Page 49 of Beautiful Crazy
Squinting from how bright the living room is, I peer up at Gemma. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay.” She shrugs. “My stomach is a little sore; so is my shoulder.”
“Your shoulder?” Standing up off the couch, I stretch my arms over my head, not missing the way Gemma’s eyes dip down and take in the sliver of skin that shows on my stomach.
Clearing her throat, she lifts her gaze to meet mine and says, “Yeah, it was a laparoscopic procedure, and I guess they go in through your shoulder. They told me it should only be sore for the first twenty-four or so hours, but leave it to me to deal with it longer.”
“What time does your pharmacy open up?” I ask.
“Nine. Do you want some coffee? I can make us some.”
“Oh, no, you don’t,” I blurt out. “I’m taking care of you today, remember?”
“That was last night,” she points out, crossing her arms over her chest in a way that I’m sure she thinks looks fierce. It’s adorable, just like the scowl etched into her face.
“And today,” Imutter. “You’re still sore, and the hives are still here. You need the help, Gemma. Accept it.”
Gemma scoffs as we both exit the living room. “I swear, you and my sisters have teamed up against me,” she says with a huff.
“To help you?” I chuckle. “God, what monsters we are.”
Glowering at me, which is even more adorable, she flips me off. “I’ve changed my mind,” she grumbles. “You can’t be my friend.”
“Nice try. You’re stuck with me. Now, point me in the direction of where your coffee is, and I’ll make us some while you go lie down.”
She looks like she wants to argue, but after a moment, she breathes out a sigh. “There’s a glass bowl on the counter that holds all the coffee pods. I’m assuming you know how to use the Nespresso?” I nod. “Okay. The coffee mugs are in the same cabinet as the wineglasses.”
“Is there a certain flavor you prefer?”
“Roasted hazelnut, please.”
“Are you hungry?” I ask her, and she immediately shakes her head. “When was the last time you ate?”
“Everett, you don’t need to wait on me. I’m fine.”
“When was the last time you ate?”
Biting down on her molars, Gemma looks at me deadpan for a moment before she finally says, “Yesterday afternoon.”
“How do you like your toast? Butter?”
“Butter and peanut butter, please.”
Leaning in, my hand goes to her hip as I press a kiss to herforehead. Gemma sucks in a breath before melting into the touch. When I pull back, she peers up at me, pink cheeks and a twinkle in her eyes that has us both pausing. My stomach dips and my chest tightens. “Okay.” Tipping my chin, I tell her, “Go lie down, and I’ll bring those to you in a couple minutes.”
By the time I finish making her slice of toast, Sutton pads out of his room, hair in every which direction, one eye closed as he looks at me. “Morning.”
“Morning, Sut. How’d you sleep?”
Holding up a thumbs-up, he mumbles, “Good. What about you?”
“The couch isn’t the most comfortable, but I’m guessing it was you who covered me?”
He nods.
“Well, thank you. That was thoughtful.”
Sutton takes his mom her toast and coffee while I work on making us something to eat. After rummaging through the fridge and the pantry, I settle on the basics. Scrambled eggs, sausage links, bacon, and toast. I make Sutton a chocolate milk, then I brew myself a roasted hazelnut coffee because Gemma’s smelled too damn good for me to not try it too.