Page 76 of Nanny for the SEAL

It seems to go smoothly until I roll over, and the movement doesn’t sit right. I have to sprint to the bathroom, and when I reach the toilet, I heave up bile.

Xaden is there the entire time, rubbing my back and holding my hair out of my face. He presses a cold cloth to my skin and gets me a small cup of water to swish in my mouth and spit out.

He’s incredible.

I’m too tired to lift my head, and I whimper as I try to catch my breath. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“It’s okay, hun. We’ll get you sorted. Maybe one of those snacks didn’t sit right with you.”

I nod half-heartedly. “Maybe.”

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

Xaden wipes down my face and carries me back to the bed. After he sets me down, I can feel him stand up, and I reach out with my hand, my eyes still closed.

“Don’t leave me.”

I hear the shuffle of steps, and then Xaden’s hand takes mine from behind me as he acts as the big spoon.

“I’m not going anywhere, babe. I’ve got you.”

As silly as it is, hearing him say that is precisely what I needed. I feel safe with him. He really does have my back, and I haven’t known what that’s felt like in so long.

Unconsciousness starts to claim me, and Xaden is right there, stroking my arm. As I drift off, I make a silent promise to tell him everything I’ve been holding in.

This is it. I trust him, and I feel cared for by him so damn much. I need to be honest.

In the morning…we’ll talk about it all in the morning.

TWENTY-FIVE

Ivy

“Okay, I’m over this.” I lean up onto my knees, flushing the toilet and struggling to my feet. “This can stop any time now.”

The waves of nausea have been hitting me like repetitive mac trucks for about a week now. I may have thought it was food poisoning or an upset stomach before, but not now.

I’ve either got the mother to end all stomach bugs, or I’m dealing with something more serious, and that, of course, freaks me out.

I shuffle over to the sink, rinsing out my mouth and splashing my face with water. After all this time, I’ve gotten pretty good at knowing if the nausea is actually going to make me throw up or if I’m just going to be miserable for a few hours.

The weird thing is that it’s worse when Idon’teat. It’s also worse if I overeat or eat the wrong thing, and that “thing” seems to change on a daily basis.

I’m also more rundown than I’ve ever been. It feels impossible to get enough sleep to avoid being groggy in the morning, and naps have become my new afternoon pastime.

As I dry off, I head back to the bed. I have today “off” as it were. Xaden is watching Daisy at his place so I can get a bit of rest, and Sam is even swinging by to bring me a little care kit.

I lay in the quiet for a little while before the doorbell rings, and I know that it’s Sam. It takes me a few minutes to get up and over to the door without barfing, and I’m glad that I messaged Sam about all this so she knows to wait.

When I finally reach the door, I open things up, and the fresh air is both too much and very welcome. It’s gotten that much colder outside as we progress into late fall, and the chilly wind helps shoo away some of the nausea.

“Hey, boo. You look like shit.” Sam offers a smile, leaning in for a hug.

I welcome her in, chuckling, and then lock up behind her. “Yeah, that seems to be the case.”

Sam holds up a canvas tote with a grin. “Well, let Abuela’s homemade chicken soup recipe tend to your needs.”

I smile. I’m not sure if anyone’s soup recipe can make me feel better, but I’m definitely willing to try. And it’s beyond sweet that Sam came all this way with it.

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