“Sure.”
“We’ll call you later and see how he’s doing. If you think he’s okay, then we’ll go back to our own places.”
“You’ve been here for two days?” Brodie asked, surprised.
Mac flushed. “We’ve taken shifts. He’s a friggin’ miserable patient and we could do with a break.”
Kade had good friends, Brodie realized. Very good friends. There for each other through thick and thin. Brodie ignored her envy and nodded. “Go, I’ll be fine.”
“We know you will.” Quinn walked up to her, placed his big hands on her shoulders. He gave her a slow, sweet, genuine smile. “Congratulations on the baby, Brodie. We can’t wait to meet him...or her.”
Brodie felt her throat tighten. “Thank you.”
Quinn turned away and Mac bent down to give her a small hug. “Yeah, from me, too, Brodie. I don’t know how you two are going to make this work but we’re rooting for you. And Rory wants to have lunch. She says the two of you are reasonably smart people and you can figure out the pregnancy thing together.”
“I’d like that,” Brodie murmured.
Quinn pointed at the container. “Make him eat. He’ll feel better for it.”
Mac clapped Quinn on the shoulder and steered him to the door. “Stop fussing. Brodie can handle it.”
“I know but he gets all depressed and mopey after a migraine,” Quinn complained.
“Brodie. Will. Handle. It.” With a last eye-roll at Brodie, Mac steered Quinn through the doors. He looked back and flashed Brodie a grin. “I swear after raising these two, having a kid is going to be a breeze.”
Eight
“Go away, Quinn.”
“Sorry, not Quinn.” Brodie pushed open the door to Kade’s bedroom and walked into the darkness to stand at the end of his bed. Her eyes adjusted and she took in his broad back, the yummy butt covered in a pair of loose boxers, the muscled thighs and calves. He was in great shape—long, lean and muscular. Powerful.
“Brodie?” Kade rolled over and leaned on one elbow. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and squinted at her. “What are you doing here?”
Brodie clasped her hands behind her back. “I brought you some chicken soup and your buds asked me to check on you to see if you’re not, well, dead.”
“They’d be so lucky,” Kade growled, sitting up and resting his elbows on his bent knees.
“How are you feeling?”
“Horrible.”
“That good, huh?”
Kade lifted a muscular shoulder. “It’s a combination of relief that the pain is gone and mental exhaustion. My head is sore.”
“Do you still have headache?”
“Not a migraine...” Kade tried to explain. “It’s more like my brain is tired. For a day afterward I feel exhausted, like I have a mental hangover.”
“Are you sure you’re not pregnant? Add nausea and vomiting and that’s how I feel all the time.”
“Sorry, babe.” Kade patted the mattress next to him. “What are you doing over there? Come here.”
She really shouldn’t. If she sat down next to him she wouldn’t be able to keep her hands to herself and then she’d get naked and he had a headache. And he needed to date other women—women she’d found for him!—and she was supposed to be keeping a mental and emotional distance so there were like, a hundred reasons why she shouldn’t sit down, why she shouldn’t even be here...
Despite all that, Brodie walked around the bed to sit on its edge. Kade immediately wound an arm around her waist, pulled her backward and spooned her from behind. His hand covered her breast and she sighed. “Kade...”
“Shhh.” Kade touched his lips to her neck and thumbed her nipple. It bloomed under his touch and she felt heat rushing down, creating a fireball between her legs.
“I need you,” Kade whispered in her ear. “I need to be inside you, touching you, being with you. Say yes, Brodes.”
Brodie rolled over to face him and touched his jaw, his lips. She opened her mouth to speak but Kade placed his fingers over her lips. “I don’t want to hear that this is a bad idea, that we shouldn’t, that this is madness. I know it is and, right now, I don’t care.”
Oh, in all honesty, she didn’t, either. Wasn’t she allowed to step away from the complications and just enjoy his touch, take pleasure in the way he made her feel? Making love to Kade was sheer bliss and, after the weeks she’d endured, wasn’t she entitled to some fun? To escape for a little while? It didn’t have to mean anything. She wanted him, needed him—in her, filling her, completing her.