Page 66 of His Sassy Omega
“Thanks.” At least I hadn’t felt the need to throw up on the drive over. Being out in the cold air was helping some.
He shoved a cup beneath my nose. “Coffee?”
I flinched sharply away from the smell, moaning. Fuck. So much for being over it. “No.”
I gulped, trying to get some air into my lungs.
“Quinn, seriously, you look like you’re gonna hurl.”
I held up a hand, shutting my eyes tightly, and taking steadying breaths through my nose. Finally, the nausea backed off. I reached into the little fridge and grabbed a lemon lime soda. Popping the top, I took a sip.
Josh put his hands on his hips. “Now I know you’re sick. You never drink soda.”
It was true, I seldom did, unless it had alcohol in it. I was a coffee fiend, and I mostly stuck with water later in the day.
“I think I’m just tired, or stressed, or both. I’ll be okay.” My voice sounded rough to my ears, a little hoarse and weak, and my legs felt wobbly. I really needed to sit down. Right now. I grabbed one of the chairs and sank gratefully into it. “I can run the register.”
He looked at me, frowning. “Do you think that’s a good idea if you’ve got the flu? You should just go home. I can handle this.”
I shook my head, taking another sip. The soda was overly sweet, but it seemed to be helping some. “I’m feeling better. It’s not the flu. Not surewhat it is, but I’m not achy and I don’t have a fever. It doesn’t feel like the flu.” My stomach was a little sore, but nothing else was. “Just tired.”
He reached out a hand and felt my forehead, clearly not believing me. “All right, but if you start feeling worse, or you hurl, you’re out of here. Don’t breathe on anything.”
“You’re not the boss of me,” I muttered into my can of soda, but my voice lacked heat and my usual sass.
“I am today,” he told me firmly, arranging cookies behind him, and starting another big pot of coffee. It was cold out, and people would want hot drinks. The smell of the coffee was getting to me, but I tried not to show it. I usually adored the smell of coffee. But today the smell of it was off. The dark, bitter smell of it made me turn my nose up.
“You just sit there and look pretty, and take people’s money,” Josh ordered me.
“Yes, sir.” I gave him a middle finger salute, even though I knew he was right.
I’d seen myself in the mirror this morning, it wasn’t much better than it had been a few hours earlier. I was far from looking pretty this morning. At least I was sitting, and I was grateful for that. My legs were still shaking, yet my limbs felt heavy. I felt sluggish and just off, in a weird way I couldn’t describe.
We were a few hours into the festival, and had a lull in customers, when I felt myself jerk, my head hitting my chest. Had I dozed off? I blinked rapidly, glancing around.
Josh frowned at me. “Quinn, go home. Seriously, I can handle it until the girls get here to relieve me. Once they do, I’ll head to the bakery and work on this week’s orders. You look like hell. You don’t need to be here.”
I rubbed a hand over my face. “I’m fine.”
“You’re scaring the customers. No one wants cookies from someone that looks like death warmed over.”
“I’m. Fine,” I bit out. I heard him mutter something that sounded like “stubborn omega” under his breath. I rubbed at my stomach absently. The dull pain from earlier was back.
“You gonna puke?” he demanded, in a tone that let me know he was about done with my shit.
I glanced over to where he was watching me. My stomach didn’t really feel upset anymore, but there was a dull ache, kind of like cramps in it, that was bothering me.
“No. I told you I’m just tired. And stressed.” Maybe it was my appendix? Was your appendix on your right side or left? I could never remember, but I so did not have time to deal with it if it was that. My appendix would have to put any plans of bursting on hold, until after the holidays. I did not have time to deal with its nonsense.
Josh didn’t look convinced, but since I hadn’t puked since I’d been there, he was smart and let it go. He glanced at his watch. “I’m going to go find something to eat that’s not made of sugar. You want anything?”
I was hungry, kind of, but not hungry at the same time. I hadn’t eaten anything since the afternoon before, and I’d lost that sometime early this morning. But the thought of eating…eh, no. “No, thanks.”
He frowned, the same frown he’d been giving me all day. “If I see anyone selling soup, I’m getting you some, and you are going to eat it.”
I gave him a two-fingered salute this time. “Yes, sir.”
I was hoping we didn’t have any customers while he was gone. I’m not sure I had it in me to fake my customer service skills right then. Thankfully, we only had a couple of people wanting some cookies and hot chocolate, but it wasn’t anything I wasn’t able to handle.
