Cherry made a choked sound and Armie eyed her with interest. “Don’t expire, honey. Turned out she mostly just wanted me to talk dirty to her.”

She cracked open one eye. “Bet you’re good at that.”

Smiling, Armie said, “Yeah.”

“Here’s a news flash,” Denver interjected, just to keep the two of them from teasing in front of him. “Havoc can find you at the rec center, too.”

“Nah, he wouldn’t bother coming to Ohio.” Looking past Denver, Armie studied Cherry with concern. “Something for fever? Anything else?”

Again Denver stroked her hair away from her face, put his mouth to her forehead, and flinched. “The gift shop is closed.”

“So I’ll make a run to the store. Not a problem.”

“You don’t mind?” Denver didn’t want to leave her.

Pushing herself up against the headboard, Cherry huddled a little tighter and, teeth chattering, said, “You can both go. I can take care of myself.” That statement ended with a cough.

Which Denver had been expecting.

He needed to get her fever down. While walking Armie to the door, he rattled off a list of things for him to grab. When he reached for his wallet, Armie refused him.

“You paid for my drinks. We’ll call it even.”

“Thanks.” Soon as he left, Denver went into the bathroom and dampened a washcloth. When he headed back, Cherry watched him with alarm.

“What are you going to do?”

“Smothering a fever won’t help anything, babe. You need to lose the blanket.”

“No.”

The demonic tone might have amused him at any other time. But not now. She looked miserable and it twisted his heart.

He sat beside her again. Putting the damp cloth on the nightstand, he took hold of her blanket.

“Denver, no,” she whimpered.

“Trust me, okay?” Relentlessly he wrested the blanket from her, but let her keep the sheet—for now. “I’ll make you more comfortable.”

Around more coughing, she growled, “You’re not a damn doctor.”

“My father is.”

That stalled her. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” He rarely shared his family history. No point to it. But if conversation helped her to relax, hell, he’d tell her fairy tales if she wanted to hear them. “He has his own practice.”

While she licked very dry lips and thought about that, he stroked the cool cloth over her face and then her neck.

At first she sucked in a breath. A second later she leaned into his hand.

If, as he suspected, she had the bug that’d been going around, sex was off the table for at least a week. It’d take her that long to start feeling human again.

Her hair was smashed on one side, frazzled out on the other. And he’d never seen her makeup so wrecked. But he wanted to hold her close and care for her, and for however long it took for her to get well, he wanted to be with her. With or without her looking her usual irresistible self.

With or without sex.

Armie had great instincts and if he didn’t trust the guys claiming to be her family, then Denver didn’t trust them, either. So at least for now he had a damn good reason to stick close—beyond the fact that for the first time in his life, a woman had him in over his head and he knew it.

CHAPTER FOUR

WHEN DENVER TUGGED her sheet away, too, and then urged her against his body, bone-deep chills had Cherry trying to burrow closer. “This is awful,” she mumbled.

“Me holding you?”

Never that. His attention was the most wonderful thing to ever happen to her.

But the timing was the worst.

Almost too drained to reply, she whispered, “You seeing me like this.” When he lifted up the back of her T-shirt, she braced herself. The first touch of that cloth felt like ice on her spine and she hissed in a breath that brought on a nasty coughing fit.

He stroked her, rocked her, made soft shushing sounds—those same husky sounds he’d made while holding her legs open and gently squeezing into her.

Remembering his size, the delicious sensation of being filled, Cherry ducked her face. “This sucks so badly.”

“I’m glad I’m here with you.” Holding her hair up with one hand, the cool cloth in the other, he stroked it from her nape all the way down her back to the top of her barely there underwear. “And I love your panties.”

She groaned. “If I’d known I was going to be sick—”

“Don’t say you wouldn’t have worn them.”