He frowned. “What? No, you don’t. And even if you did, I don’t care.”
“No, I mean, I need to brush my teeth. I threw up and my breath probably smells like vomit and . . .” She trailed off as he scooped her up carefully in his arms, walking towards the door.
“We need to get you back to bed.”
“Ed—”
“I’ll get you a bowl in case you feel ill again.”
“Ed—”
He lay her on the bed. “I should take your temperature in case you’re coming down with something. I’ll get the first aid kit. I don’t think I’ve got a rectal thermometer, though. Those are better, right?”
That definitely didn’t sound better to her. No way was he getting near her with a rectal thermometer. They hadn’t even gotten to second base; did he really think she was going to let him stick something up her butt?
Not. Happening.
“Ed,” she said loudly as he drew the covers up over her.
“What? Do you feel sick again? Do you need the toilet?”
“Ed, I’m okay,” she told him as he went to pick her up again. Seriously, the guy was going to give himself an ulcer if he kept worrying over her this much.
“You’re not fine. I thought you looked flushed.” He put his huge hand over her forehead. “Definitely got a fever.”
“Then your internal thermometer must be off because I’m not sick. I don’t have a fever.”
“You just said you vomited. Was it the food?” He looked at the plate of food he’d left. She’d eaten a cracker and a slice of apple. She’d meant to eat more but then she’d gotten sleepy. And the bottle of water that was still three-quarters full. “Was something bad? Was that why you didn’t answer the phone? Because you were throwing up? Shit, why did I leave you?”
Actually, she’d completely forgotten to turn on her phone. But he didn’t need to know that. “It’s not the food. I’m not ill.”
“Here, have some water, you’ll be dehydrated. I’m going to call Xavier and have him come out and check you over.”
“Ed! Stop. Listen to me.”
He frowned down at her. “What is it? I need to get you a sick bowl. I don’t want you getting up to go the bathroom and getting dizzy then fainting. You can just use the bowl and then I’ll empty it for you.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“I should never have left you on your own,” he berated himself. “That mistake won’t happen again.”
“Ed, I’m not sick. I just had a nightmare. Sometimes, when I wake up after one, I feel sick. It’s happened several times. I promise, it’s not the food and I’m not ill.”
“You vomited because of the nightmare?”
“Yes. That’s all. And you can leave me alone. I’m not helpless.”
“I know you’re not helpless. But it’s not easy to come home and see you distressed and hurting. So upset that you vomited.”
“I don’t like it either. I promise, there’s no need for Xavier to be called out or a rectal thermometer.” She wrinkled her nose.
His lips twitched. “Don’t like the idea of something being put into your bottom, Georgie-girl?”
“No!”
“Hmm, that’s too bad.”
What did he mean by that?