Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
He nodded at that. I figured he didn’t ever want to be so weak he couldn’t defend himself, though if he’d been special forces in the marines, I supposed he could focus through a hell of a lot of pain when he had to.”
He struggled to sit up, but I didn’t help him. I could only imagine the glare I’d get if I did.
We ate in silence, occasionally punctuated by his coughing. By the time I’d finished my soup, he’d only eaten about a quarter of his and a few crackers.
“Can you leave me alone now?” he croaked.
I frowned at him. “You need to eat more.”
“Carlo.”
“A few more bites. Please?”
“I’m not—”
“I’m worried about you.”
The softer voice worked. He ate some more soup, and I went to get the medicine I’d prepared.
When I came back, he stared at the greenish-brown drink I was carrying. “What the hell is that?”
“Ginger, brandy, some greens, and some herbs. I’m not allowed to reveal the exact formula.”
Blade scowled at the glass. “I thought you didn’t want me to die.”
“It’s my nonna’s remedy. It works.” He looked so exhausted I worried he might fall asleep any second. “If you drink it, I’ll go into the kitchen and leave you alone for a while.”
He studied me for a moment. I wouldn’t push him if it wasn’t necessary, but I knew this concoction worked. Finally, he grabbed the drink and downed it. I handed him some Tylenol. He swallowed those down without protest, but when I pulled out some salve he shook his head. “No more.”
“This will help you breathe better and help with the coughing.”
“Are you going to tell me you’re a fucking doctor now?”
“No, but my nonna… Everyone trusted her. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t trying to help you.”
“Are you sure? Maybe you want revenge.”
“For what? The best sex of my life?”
He sputtered. “You… I…”
“I want you to feel better so we can fuck some more, okay?”
“What is wrong with you?”
I grinned. “That’s the question everyone asks, but no one knows the answer.”
He laid back against the pillows like he’d run out of energy to sit up any longer. “Just get it over with.”
“What?”
He gestured weakly toward the salve. Was he really going to let me put it on him?
I knelt beside the couch and set the little jar on the coffee table, then I dipped my fingers in, coating them before I rubbed my hands together. I wanted to warm the salve so it would feel good on his skin.
I ran my hands along the side of his neck, then down his throat. He made a soft, contented sound as I rubbed it in. It smelled like eucalyptus, mint, and rosemary, and his chest rose as he breathed in deeply. I sat back so I could spread some on his chest, but I couldn’t help myself from pausing to stare at him.
He might not get out much, but he’d obviously kept exercising since he’d gotten out of the marines because his t-shirt did nothing to hide the definition of his muscles. I bet he’d look like a sculpture if he was naked. I wanted to run my tongue over every inch of him, tasting him as I mapped him out.
I hated that I’d never had a chance to get him fully naked and explore him. I would, though. There was no way in hell I was going to let him deny me that. When he was better, we were going to strip down, get into his bed, and stay there all fucking night.
I made the mistake of looking up. Blade’s eyes were open now, and they looked right into mine. “You should stop.”
“But you should have some on your chest.” He shook his head, and I reluctantly pulled my hands away, but I kept holding his gaze.
“I’m too sick.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Carlo.”
I stepped back.
“Rest. Get better soon.”
He was basically asleep again as he smiled and mumbled something I couldn’t understand.
I woke him several hours later to drink more water and eat more soup. He refused to let me help him to the bathroom, and it nearly killed me to watch his slow steps and the way he looked like he’d topple over before he made it across the small cabin. I waited for him to crash to the floor in the bathroom, but thankfully, he didn’t. I got him settled again and sank back into the chair beside him. Normally, sitting still all afternoon would make me insane, but not here, not with Blade.
I alternated between watching him, texting my older brother for updates on the Pisano situation, and reading. I didn’t want to turn on the television and wake Blade. After years in the military, I doubted he was a hard sleeper, even when he was sick.
Once it was dark, I forced myself to leave his side and make dinner. I’d found the ingredients to make pastina, my favorite comfort food from my childhood. It was one of the few things I could cook myself. I hoped Blade would be willing to eat some of it. He’d yet to have more than about three-quarters of a bowl of soup.