Stripped Down (21 page)

“Of course. Does she need any clean clothes, or did she miss?”

“Unfortunately, she didn’t, but we have spares, so she’s changed.”

“Thank you so much. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

We said our goodbyes, and the moment I hung up, I slumped forward onto the bar.

So much for her eat-a-thon this morning.

Kids.

“Is everything okay?” Beck asked, concern deep in his tone.

“CiCi’s sick. I have to go get her.” I straightened and unlocked my phone to call my mom. It was one of the few times I’d use her car. “I have to call my mom to drive—oh, shit. Fuck!” I smacked my hand to my forehead. “Dad’s having tests all day. She’s at the hospital.”

“Let’s go.”

It wasn’t an offer or even a question of if I needed him. It was a simple, “Let’s go.” Like any other option wasn’t worth considering.

“What about the club?” I stared at him, my eyes wide.

“I’ll call West. He’ll open until one of the girls comes in. Come on.” He reached around me, grabbed my purse, then took my hand.

“Are you sure?” It was a stupid question, considering he was already pulling me across the club as I clutched my phone, but hey.

“Blondie. Let’s go.” He tugged on my hand and kept his grip tight.

I wasn’t quite sure on the purse, but I could think of worse things than being dragged around by Beck. Like the situation he was driving me into.

I hoped he didn’t mind vomit in his car.

He insisted on coming into the school with me to get her after we picked her car seat up from my house. I didn’t want him to, but I was too determined to get to CiCi to argue with him.

Never mind hell hath no fury like a woman scorned—hell hath no fury like a momma trying to get to her sick baby.

“Mommy.” She forced a smile from where she was lying on the bed in the nurse’s office. Her face was pale, and despite the light blanket she had over her lower body, she was lightly shivering.

“Hey, little one.” I went to her right away and pushed her hair back from her face. “I’m taking you home, okay? Let’s get you to bed.” I pushed the blanket back and lifted her up into my arms.

“Here.” Beck shuffled into the room, which made it seem like it was tinier than it was, and gently took her from my arms.

As much as my mom reflex hated it, my arms were thankful.

“Beck.” CiCi smiled again, and this time, there was a little light in her eyes.

“Hey, kid. Just don’t throw up down my back, okay?”

“I’ll try.” She rested her head on his shoulder as he adjusted his arm beneath her so she was essentially sitting on it.

I quickly spoke with the nurse, and after thanking her and confirming she’d be out of school tomorrow, I gently touched CiCi’s head. Beck followed me out of the school. Luckily, we’d parked right outside, so I stood by and watched as he buckled her into her car seat without a word and shut the car door.

A lump formed in my throat as I walked to the front passenger’s seat and climbed in. No amount of swallowing made it disappear or even shrunk it, so I chose to ignore the thing that was staring me in the face.

Beck didn’t just care about my daughter. He cared about her.

And it was just too much to deal with. So I beat it back down to the very depths of my mind and turned in my seat as Beck started the engine.

“If you feel sick, you need to tell me, okay?”

CiCi nodded, her tired eyes slowly blinking at me. “I’m tired, Mommy. And my tummy hurts. And I’m really cold.”

“I know.” I reached back and squeezed her knee. “You can go to bed when you get home, but you need to try a little bit of water and some medicine.”

Another nod, but this time, she closed her eyes.

I left her. If she was tired, she was gonna fall asleep either way. I just needed her awake long enough to give her medicine to bring down her fever, and hopefully, she wouldn’t bring it back up.

Except, by the time we got home, she was completely out of it. Not even Beck’s lifting her out of the car made her stir more than a half cough that made him freeze with fear that she’d vomit. The way his eyes widened and his jaw went slack in shock made me laugh. For a guy who was so good with her, he really wasn’t prepared for the grosser side of a kid.

I wonder what he’d think if he knew I could catch vomit in the palm of my hand.

Not a skill one writes on their résumé, admittedly, but I was still pretty proud of it.

Beck laid CiCi down in her bed and stepped back. “Will she take medicine if she’s this asleep?”

“No. I’ll have to wake her a little, but she’ll drop right back off. Could you get it for me? It’s in my purse at the bottom of the stairs.”

“You want me to go in your purse?”

“I promise my tampons won’t attack you.”

He stepped back slowly with a half grin. “If you’re sure...”

I rolled my eyes. He was an idiot. I didn’t want to think about how fond I was becoming of that side of him.

There really was so much bullshit in my head.

I carefully stripped CiCi down to her underwear and pulled the covers up under her arms. A low cry left her mouth as she was roused from her sleep by my actions, and she scrunched her face up.

“Shh,” I said, smoothing her hair back. “It’s okay. I need you to take your medicine, okay?”

“Don’t wanna,” she whispered, moving her face to the edge of the bed. “Tummy hurts.”

“Here,” Beck said. “I thought I’d bring this up too.”

I turned. He had my biggest mixing bowl. I’d left it on the counter after having washed it yesterday.

“Mom—”

Retching interrupted CiCi’s plea for me, and I moved like a lightning bolt. One of my hands cupped beneath her mouth, and the other snatched the bowl from Beck. I got the bowl beneath my hand just in time to catch the majority of her vomit.

“I need a towel. In the bathroom. Next room,” I said to Beck, not moving. “Please.”

Thirty seconds later, he was handing me one. “Hey, princess,” he said, bending down in front of CiCi. Her sad gaze met his. “You want me to wash this out for you?”

“Bring it back,” she whispered.

He nodded and took the bowl as I wiped my hand of the excess vomit. He’d brought me a bath towel—of course he had—so I used the other half to wipe her little mouth.

“Better?” I asked softly, dropping the towel to the floor in front of me. “Tummy better?”

She nodded. “Medicine?”

“No, little one. Let your tummy settle, okay? Just sleep for a while. That’ll make you better.”

“Promise?”

“Hey. Is Mommy ever wrong?”

She shook her head. “Magic kisses?”

I stared at her for a moment, my lips curving. “Okay. Magic kisses.” I pulled the sheets back and dipped my head. Then blew a light raspberry on her belly button.

She giggled quietly, so with a smile, I kissed her tummy and then covered her back up.

“Super-duper magic kisses.”

“Thank you.” She pulled the covers over her head.

“You’re very welcome.” I kissed her warm forehead and stood, making sure to grab the towel.

The downstairs tap was running, and a smile crept onto my face at the thought of how Beck was coping while cleaning that bowl. I couldn’t think of it for long though because my hand desperately needed some soap on it.

I walked into the bathroom and gave my hands a thorough wash. The towel would have to go straight into the washing machine, but if I was honest, I really needed to do a load of laundry anyway.

After I’d dried my hands on a clean towel, I scooped up the dirty, sicky one and poked my head through CiCi’s bedroom door.

In just enough time to catch Beck kissing the top of her head and pushing her hair out of her eyes where she’d rolled over.

I didn’t know how, but simultaneously, my heart jumped right out of my chest and my ovaries exploded like fireworks.

I turned away and darted across the hall before he noticed me. I didn’t want him to know I’d seen. I wanted to hold on to that moment where I had seen a man care about my daughter when he hadn’t had to, when nobody had been looking. I wanted to hold on to the memory of something so simple and sweet and just keep it for me.

I wanted the memory of Beck comforting my daughter. I wanted to file it away with the other glimpses of his sweet side. I wanted it to be mine.

Because, eventually, he wouldn’t be. He couldn’t be.

I stuffed the sheet into the washing machine with a deep inhale. The other laundry would have to wait, and I needed an immediate distraction, and there was nothing more distracting than the whir of a washing machine. Each click and beep of the machine was welcome as I set it up and hit the start button.

I was right. The whir filled the air, the glugging and whirling of the parts inside getting ready to shoot almost boiling water onto the yucky towel. I washed my hands again. Sure, I was proud of my mad mom skills, but that didn’t mean I liked how it felt after.

“That was pretty impressive. How you caught her vomit. You were like a ninja.”

I glanced over my shoulder with a smile. “It comes with the territory. Like a reflex.” I shut the tap off and grabbed yet another towel to dry my hands. “Did you take her bowl back up?” I asked, knowing full well he had.

“Yep.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants and leaned against the doorframe.

“And did my tampons attack you when you got the medicine out of my purse?”

“We had a moment where it was uncertain, but I think my undeniable charisma and stunning smile convinced them to settle down.”

“That must have been it. I’m impressed.”

Beck grinned, his eyes lighting up with his smile. “Will she be okay?”

“She’ll be fine. It’s just a bug. She was a little sick before school, but I put it down to her gouging on blueberries.” I shrugged and hung the tea towel back up on the oven door. “It’s one of those things. She’ll sleep it off and be fine by bedtime tomorrow.”

“Are you sure? Where would she have gotten a bug from?” His concern for her was obvious in the way his smile dropped and his eyebrows drew together, which darkened his gaze.

“Beck, she’s six. She can catch a stomach bug in her sleep.”

“Really? Are you not worried at all?”

“Of course I’m worried. I don’t like to see her like this, but I know exactly how it’s going to go down. She’ll wake up and try a little cold water. If she’s sick again, she’ll go back to bed. If she isn’t sick, she’ll lie on the sofa. Either way, she’ll roll around like she’s queen of the world, demanding anything from more water, to a blanket, to a coloring book, to another movie, and finally, a foot rub and her hair braided.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Exactly how many times have you done this?”

I looked up at the ceiling. “At least once a year for the past four years. Three times last year. This is the first this year.”

“Really?”

“Again, she’s six. Germs are her best friend. It’s like a yearly rite of passage.” I shrugged again then met his gaze. “I guess you have to go back to work now.”

His lips thinned. “She was awake when I gave her her bowl back. She asked me if I’d stay.”

Of course she did. My heart squeezed. “What did you say?”

“I said I had to work, but I could come back later when she’s awake if it was okay with you.” He paused. “It was easier than telling her I couldn’t stay, even though the club’s taken care of.”

I nodded a little. “You can come back later. She’ll be upset if you don’t.”

“All right. Will you call me when she wakes up?”

“Sure.” I walked over to the fridge and grabbed the handle. “Thank you for helping me bring her home.”

He smiled. “No problem.” Then he pushed off from the doorframe, turned, and walked to the door.

I rested my forehead against the fridge.
What am I doing? Am I really going to let him go right now after what I just saw?

I was going to lose my mind over this man. I knew it. I could already feel it happening. Maybe it’d already happened.

He made my daughter happy, and if she ever needed to be happy, it was when she was sick. And, heck, he made me smile too. Not to mention the fact that we still needed to talk. Our conversation had been cut short by the school’s phone call, and I was tired of running out of time.

“Beck?” I managed to get out just before he opened the front door.

“Yeah?” He spun back to face me, his dark eyes unreadable.

I turned my face to the side so I could see him fully. “You don’t have to go,” I said softly. “You can stay. Only if you want to though.”

He rubbed his hand down his face, his eyes never leaving mine. Then he walked back into the kitchen. I stood away from the fridge as he stopped right next to me.

Slowly, he touched his hand to my face, his fingertips teasing my hairline. His dark gaze searched mine, and my heart jumped into my throat as the usual tingles his touch sparked danced down my neck. Then he slid his hand into my hair, allowing the blond strands to fall away from his fingertips.

“Do I want to go home to my big-ass house with its cold emptiness?” he asked in a low voice. “Or go to the club where half the girls there still see me as a mountain to be conquered? Not particularly, baby. I’d rather stay here. Even if there will be a demand for movies and water and foot rubs from a tiny person.”