Page 88 of Make Mine Sweet
He gives me a thumbs down.
“That sounds about right.” I squeeze him closer. “How’s your tummy?”
He shrugs. “Better.”
“You have a friend in your bed.”
Dutch chooses that moment to lay his head across August’s knee as if daring me to kick him out.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d think about that,” Ian explains. “But he asked, so…”
“He makes me feel better, Mama.” August turns to face me, both him and the dog giving me their cutest puppy eyes.
We’ve never spent this much time with a dog before. I don’t know what’s normal or acceptable, but…I don’t mind this. Isn’t this what dogs are for? Comfort and love and cuddles?
I pet Dutch’s head until his eyes close. “I guess he can stay.”
“Thank you, Mama.”
“And the TV?”
More puppy dog eyes. “I asked Ian if I could watch while I rest.”
Ian rubs one hand over the back of his neck, glancing from the TV to me. “I can’t say no to a sick kid.”
“It’s fine.” And actually, super adorable. I might have shown more restraint, but that would only mean August propped up on the couch watching the TV in the living room instead of in his bedroom.
“Isn’t Ian so great, Mama?”
I lock eyes with Ian across the room where he’s still leaning against the doorframe.
“So great,” I confirm.
I mean it, one hundred percent. Ian is thoughtful and kind, and more patient than I ever thought a man could be. He’s looking out for both August and me with a gentle sweetness I never expected to find. I’m absolutely scared of everything that could go wrong…but I don’t want to keep pulling away from him.
I want to lean in.
“I threw up on him,” August whispers.
Maybe I don’t want to lean in right this minute.
I lift my eyebrows at Ian, but he just shrugs. The man has been a total rock, managing a medical emergency and enduring throw up, and he’s brushing it off like it’s just another day. It sure isn’t to me.
“Do you need anything?” I ask August.
“No.” He sinks deeper against the pillows. “I just want to watch for a while.”
“That’s a good idea.” He’s likely to fall asleep soon, and he needs the rest. I kiss his forehead, dismayed at the heat radiating from his skin. “I’ll come back in a couple of hours for checks.”
He nods, his sleepy eyes on his cartoon show. He’s so used to finger pricks now, he might not even wake when I come back later.
I leave him to the creatures under the sea, keeping the door ajar in case he calls or Dutch wants out. Ian’s waiting for me in the living room, a tentative smile on his face. I don’t know why that smile does it, but all the adrenaline I’ve been holding at bay finally crashes over me.
I don’t so much hug him as collapse against him in a jittery heap. He wraps his arms around my back, holding me steady in more ways than one.
“Thank you.” I exhale the words against his chest, eyes closed, letting his warmth ground me.
He kisses the top of my head. “It’s not a problem, angel.”
