Page 38 of Santa Baby Maybe
“Guard cats are not a thing.”
“Did he not just protect me from the dangling toe that was hanging over the bed?”
“I don’t think you were in any danger from my dangling toe,” W.B. insisted.
“Yes, but Jake didn’t know that.”
W.B. was still grumbling, but then he very carefully lifted my right leg up and off his, placing it gently back on the bed.
“How does it feel?” he asked.
“Fine,” I said, getting up on my elbows to look at it. “It looks like the swelling has gone down a lot.”
He grunted his agreement, but he didn’t immediately move. “It’s early,” he sighed. “You should go back to sleep.”
“That’s not going to happen. Once I’m up, I’m up. But I’ll get coffee started, if you want to use the bathroom.”
He sat up. “You do your thing in the bathroom while I make coffee and bring it to you. But first I have to take a piss. I’ve had to go for the last hour.” W.B. rolled off the bed and his feet hit the floor with a thud.
“Why didn’t you just go?” I asked him.
“Didn’t want to wake you. You got a spare toothbrush?”
“There should be one in the top drawer under the sink. My dentist always loads me up with extras.”
Another grunt. I got the impression W.B. wasn’t a morning person. Still, as the door to the bathroom closed behind him, I considered what had happened. He’d stayed with me all day, slept next to me all night, making sure not to jostle my ankle. And he’d mildly tolerated the fact that Jake nibbled on his toe.
I glanced at the clock on my nightstand and saw it was barely six a.m. I laid back on the bed and considered the logistics of getting into the office on crutches. Especially since it occurred to me that my car was still parked downtown. I shook my head. W.B. had handled everything so smoothly, it hadn’t occurred to me to question him. But it would have made more sense had we gone to get my car after the urgent care visit instead of Ubering back home.
Except it felt like I hadn’t had time to think. He’d just swooped in and handled everything, like I was his responsibility. Including making sure I slept with my ankle raised.
He came out of the bathroom and looked to me like he was trying to come to some kind of internal conclusion. Then he moved to sit on the end of the bed while he very carefully unwrapped the bandage around my ankle.
“Definitely less swollen. You probably won’t need to ice it today.”
“Uh, yeah, not like that was going to be an option. I need to get into the office. And I just realized I left my car downtown.”
He scowled at me. “You’re not going into the office. The doctor said you have to stay off your foot.”
“Yes, with crutches.”
“No. You need to stay home today.”
I scowled back at him. “I don’t think you get to make that decision for me.”
His scowl looked only slightly less threatening. “I don’t. The doctor does. She said seven days. You can spend at least one more day lounging on the couch. Crutches can be a bitch and your temptation will be to just limp on it.”
He wasn’t wrong, but there was so much going on as we got closer to Christmas. “My team needs me.”
“I don’t doubt that, but they can handle things for one day.”
“Are you kidding? We’re only weeks out from Christmas. We’re decorating all the trees in the windows with personal ornaments.”
“Again, all stuff that can be handled by your team with you directing them remotely. One day,” he said, so reasonably. “Then you can deal with the hassle of crutches tomorrow.”
“Fine,” I muttered.
“You’re cute when you don’t get your way,” he said softly. “I wish I could stay here with you, but I do have to get into the office. There is something going down and I need to be there for it.”
