“I’m sorry you think I’m being mean. But you do need to open your mouth for me.”
“Okay. Why didn’t you just ask? Sheesh, I’m not a mind reader like you.”
“My bad,” he said dryly.
She nodded. Then she opened her mouth. Because Immy was a good girl who always did what she was told. And she’d smack anyone who said differently.
Okay, she might also get slightly violent when she was running a fever.
But it was nothing to worry about.
“What’s going on?” Abe asked as he walked into the room. He had on his running gear.
“Immy isn’t feeling well. I caught her standing on the stool to reach the extra medicine above the fridge. When I walked in, she nearly fell.”
Hey, that wasn’t fair.
She’d only nearly fallen because he’d startled her.
She waited for his rebuttal, but he didn’t say anything.
Ahh, it seemed he’d lost his ability to read minds.
“Here we go, Immy,” he said as he drew out the thermometer. “Yep, she’s got a fever. Quite a high one.”
“I don’t feel so good,” she said, holding her arms out to Jenner. “Carry me.”
“Of course, baby.” He lifted her onto his hip and she snuggled her face into chest. “I’m going to take her upstairs and put her back to bed. We might need Eric.”
“Nooo,” she groaned. Darn it. Why was her throat so sore and croaky? “No bed. No Eric. Wanna swim.”
“That’s definitely not happening,” Abe told her firmly, grasping hold of her chin. “She’s very pale and her eyes are glassy. Could just be the flu, though.”
“Yes, but with Immy that can turn bad quickly.”
Abe nodded.
“Jenny, want a swim,” she grumbled.
“Uh-uh, just because you’re sick doesn’t mean you get to call me that.”
“But I like that nickname. You call me Twinkles.”
“Twinkles is cute. Jenny is not cute.”
“Are you sure? Because you’re cute.” She leaned back and then booped his nose. “Cute. Cute. Cute.”
“What’s going on?” Sampson asked as he strode into the kitchen dressed in running gear. “Why are you carrying Immy? And why is she poking you in the nose?”
“I’m carrying her because she’s ill and needs to go to bed. Why she’s poking me in the nose . . . well, I have no idea, to be honest.”
“I’m booping him. It’s a cute nose and it needs to be booped.”
“Shit. What’s her temperature?” Sampson asked, walking over to put the back of his hand against her forehead.
Oh wow.
“You’re so cold!” she cried. “Sampson is the coldest. Like ice. Ice-man Sampson.”