Page 69 of His Sassy Omega
“I’m trying to get up,” I huffed, because obviously. I pushed at him again, not moving him an inch. “I need to get to the bakery.”
He pushed me back down, pulling the blankets over me, catching my hands in his when I tried to push them off. “Quinn, stop.” His growly voice stopped my struggles. “Josh is opening. He’s got it covered. Finn thinks you had a fairly strong, twenty-four-hour stomach bug. You were very dehydrated, running a low-grade fever, and you are exhausted. You are on bed rest until tomorrow, doctor’s orders. And that depends on how well you feel the rest of today.”
I huffed, then ground the heels of my hands into the heat prickling in my eyes. Good God, I would not cry again. What the fuck was wrong with me? I had cried more the last few days than I had the last ten years of my life. It was getting ridiculous.
The feelings this time that caused my eyes to water were completely different than in Lachlan’s office. It dawned on me that this man had not only freaked out when I’d passed out, but he’d also taken care of me. Taken care of me at my worst. He’d stayed.
I didn’t ever let anyone take care of me. I was capable of taking care of myself. I thought back, trying to remember if I’d ever even had anyone I was seeing seriously the last time I wasn’t feeling well. I’d dated Leo the longest, and I’d had a cold once the whole time we were together.
Leo had definitely not taken care of me. He’d told me to text him when I was germ-free. I’d been absolutely fine with his response. Even as a child, I hadn’t wanted my parents fussing over me when I’d been sick. Leave me in peace on the couch, and I’d either get better or die.
But this felt good, letting Lachlan take care of me. To have someone worry about me. I felt warm inside, and I liked that feeling. The feeling of knowing he had stayed, he had worried, he had wanted to make sure I was okay.
He pulled at my hands, bringing them down. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
I shook my head, taking a deep, shuddering breath. I had all these feelings and emotions, and it was overwhelming me.
“Tell me,” he ordered, in his deep, dark voice that made me want to do anything he said. Damn him.
“You stayed,” I whispered, not able to meet his eyes. “You took care of me.”
His long finger under my chin forced me to look at him, and meet his eyes. His icy blue eyes were questioning. “Of course I stayed. Why wouldn’t I?”
I shrugged. “You didn’t have to.” As far as explanations went, it was pretty lame.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he told me. “I couldn’t have left you if I’d wanted to. My heart nearly stopped when your eyes rolled up and you started to fall. I was so worried about you.”
I swallowed the lump that had taken up residence in my throat and took a breath. I needed a minute to let his words sink into my soul.
This man, this wolf, this alpha, made me want things I’d never wanted before. He made me feel things I’d never allowed myself to feel before. There was a pull I felt towards him, a feeling like if I fell, I knew without a doubt he would catch me.
It was a heady feeling, full of warmth and peace, and it scared the fucking hell out of me.
The rumbling of my stomach broke me out of my frankly all over the place thoughts, and Lachlan chuckled. “I was going to ask if you felt up to eating something, but I think I have my answer.”
I was hungry, but also not. My stomach still just not feelingrightsomehow. “Maybe something light?” I hedged, knowing I needed to put something in it.
“I have chicken soup simmering on the stove for you. I’ll be right back.”
He brought me the soup in a mug with a handle, so I could hold it in my hand. It smelled amazing, but I recalled what he’d said about his lack of cooking skills.
“Did you make this?” I asked suspiciously.
He snorted. “God no! You would be puking again if I had.” He ducked his head again, blushing a little. “I have a chef. She’s amazing, and she made a big pot and dropped it off.”
I sipped at the salty, chicken broth, feeling better with each sip. It was scrumptious, and whatever magic chicken soup had, this one had it in spades. “Why are you blushing?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. That just sounded extremely snobbish. Like I’m so rich I have a private chef.”
I grunted. “If I had that many zeros in my bank account, I’d have a private chef. I can cook, but it’s not my favorite thing to do. I’d rather be baking any day. Don’t apologize for the things you have. Your family donates plenty to this town and charities. If you want a chef, go for it.”
I sipped at my soup some more. “This is the best chicken soup I’ve ever had. Your chef can feed me anytime.”
He leaned forward, and kissed my nose in a gesture so sweet, it had me looking away from him.
This man was nothing that I’d thought he was, and everything I’d never thought I’d want. But want him I did. In more ways than just sex.
He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. “So…my mom always has my brothers and me over for dinner on Christmas Eve. Would you like to come? With me? As my date? As my boyfriend? Unless it’s too soon. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
