Page 15 of Bred By the Minotaur (DreamTogether Breeding Program #3)

Thirteen

Phoebe

Janelle is surprised and relieved at my sudden appearance. She leads me inside to find Milo on the couch, the fur on his forehead slick with sweat. When Janelle kneels in front of him to tell him that I’ve arrived, he starts crying and pushes her away.

“Dad!” he whimpers, reaching out toward nothing.

I stroke him over the blanket. “Hey, Milo. It’s me.”

His eyes finally seem to register that I’m there, and his frantic thrashing stops.

“Phoebe!” He tries to sit up, but he can’t, his body swaying as he lies back down. “I feel so bad. Everything is pink.” The rest of the words that come out of his mouth are garbled.

“I think he’s running a fever,” Janelle says as I rummage around the downstairs bathroom. I find a thermometer and verify her suspicion.

“Fudge. It’s 103.5.” That’s much too high. “We have to take him to a hospital.”

“A hospital?!” The poor woman is horrified. “Hank’s going to kill me.”

I shake my head and pick Milo up off the couch, staggering under his weight. He isn’t just a little five-year-old human boy—he is a minotaur boy, and I need a wheelbarrow for him.

Janelle helps me carry him out to the car as he whimpers and moans. At least she has a medical release from Hank just in case of an emergency like this, so she comes with me to be his guardian.

One fever reducer and some IV fluids later, the hospital staff helps us carry Milo back to the car. At the house, we bring him inside together, but unfortunately, we can’t get him up the stairs, so we lay him on the couch with his head on my lap.

After the frazzled Janelle leaves, I sit there stroking Milo’s shaggy hair, watching the even breaths he lets out of his cute, round muzzle. I adjust the blanket laid across him to keep him warmer.

From here, I can see into the kitchen. And sure enough, there is a note on the refrigerator that reads:

MILO EMERGENCY CONTACT

PHOEBE

With the phone number of the phone they gave me listed underneath. And frankly, I’m glad it was me, though I can’t say I ever gave permission for it to go there.

All’s well that ends well. I lean my head back against the soft couch with its new, plush cushions, and my eyes fall closed. Milo’s soft fur under my hand lulls me to sleep.

“Phoebe?!” I jerk awake at the sound of Hank’s worried voice. He comes into the room, and his brown eyes are big and wide, his breath harried.

“Shh.” I hold up a finger to my lips as Milo stirs, then offer him a smile. “It’s okay. He’s all right now. But we should keep an eye on him.”

With a sigh of relief, Hank sinks into the chair next to the couch. His face is sooty, and he looks absolutely exhausted.

“What a fucking day,” he murmurs, his head falling back. “What on earth happened? How did you get mixed up in this?”

I blink at him. “What do you mean? My name was on the fridge, clearly labeled ‘Milo’s emergency contact.’” I shoot him a chastising look. “You could have told me first, at least.”

His head jerks up. “I never did that.”

“It’s on the fridge. In the kitchen.”

Getting out of the chair, he heads into the next room and spies the same thing I did. Then, a realization seems to strike him, and he rolls his eyes. “My mother.”

“Your mother?”

He returns, sinking even deeper into the chair this time as he rubs his face. “She did that. Meddling. I’m sorry.”

“I’m glad Janelle called me,” I say, stroking Milo’s head. “He has a fever, and he was starting to hallucinate. He calmed down when I got here, though, and we took him to the hospital.”

Hank stiffens all over. “The hospital?”

“The fever broke pretty quickly, but they sent home some more of that strong fever reducer in case it gets bad again.”

His mouth slightly ajar, he nods in understanding.

“Thank you,” he says, voice turning hoarse. “You really went above and beyond.”

I swallow the words I want to say, that he’s my son, too, and it’s the bare minimum I can do for him. Instead, I say, “I was in the right place at the right time. Anyway, what happened to you tonight? You were AWOL for a long time.”

He looks fully exhausted as he says, “Two fires. Two families that have lost everything.” His kind eyes find mine, and they’re full of sorrow.

“The second one was a single mom and her two kids. The girl almost didn’t get out—she wouldn’t have without Ron.

So when I got that voicemail...” Hank trails off, clearly too rattled to even say the words.

“Everything is fine.” I risk leaning forward to put a hand on his shoulder, and at first, he tenses up under me. Then, his muscles all seem to release at once, and he sags forward. He puts his other hand on mine and squeezes it.

“The moment I heard your voice, I knew it would be all right.” He stares down at the floor. “I knew Milo would be safe with you. That you would do what needs to be done.”

“I guess I’m glad your mom put my name on the fridge,” I say. “Janelle was scared out of her mind.”

He shakes his head. “She was my only option when Mom went out of town.”

I know why he didn’t call me instead. Still, it would be fun to spend that much time with Milo. I want to learn everything about him.

“How much longer is your mom gone?” I definitely don’t trust Janelle to look after Milo anymore. He needs someone he feels comfortable with.

Hank cocks an eyebrow. “Another three days.”

So Saturday, Sunday, and Monday. I try not to work over the weekend when possible, and I can probably take Monday off.

I can’t believe I’m thinking about offering this, but I don’t like the idea of Milo being stuck with another stranger. If Hank has no other options...

“What if I looked after him?” I ask. “Maybe he doesn’t know me that well yet, but he trusted me when he was scared. I think that’s a good sign.”

Hank’s head jerks up, and his mouth falls open.

“You would?” He sounds hopeful but hesitant. “Really?”

I hope I’m not sending him the wrong message, but it seems like he’s really in a pickle here, and I can help.

“I’m right down the street. It doesn’t make sense for you to pay someone else to do it.”

“Well, I would pay you?—”

Just the thought of it makes my skin crawl. “No.” I clear my throat, then look down at Milo’s sleeping face in my lap, and my heart squeezes. “It would be my pleasure to spend some time with him.”

“You’d have to pick him up from school...” Hank trails off.

“So? I’ll say I’m his nanny. Write me a note.”

“Only if you’re sure.” He scratches one of his cute little ears, and opens his mouth like he’s about to say something more, but thinks better of it.

“I’m sure,” I say with surprising confidence. It’ll give me a great opportunity to get out of my sister’s house for a while. “Actually, could I hang out here while he’s at school? So I can get some work done?”

Hank blinks those long-lashed eyes. “Oh. Yeah, of course. You can do whatever you want.” The hint of a smile pulls at his lips. “My house is your house.”

That sounds a little more serious than I was thinking, but I thank him anyway.

I gently set Milo’s head down on a pillow where I was sitting and get to my feet. “All right, now that you’re home, I should probably go.”

Hank walks with me to the front door. When I step out, he follows me and shuts it behind him.

“Thank you again,” he says with a heavy swallow.

“I really don’t know what I, or Milo, would have done without you tonight.

I’m sorry about my mom getting you involved.

” Hank’s eyes are moist, though, and I think this has all thoroughly shaken him.

His son means the world to him, that much is obvious, and the adrenaline of worrying hasn’t worn off.

“It’s okay. I was happy to do it.” I pat his arm. “His safety means a lot to me, too.”

Hank gazes down at me, then suddenly, he wraps both his big arms around me and pulls me in for a hug. My cheek is crushed against his chest as he squeezes me. He smells like smoke, but also like him —a warm, sweet smell that fills me up and calms my heart.

Any instinct I had to pull away vanishes, and I melt into those furry arms that are wrapped so tightly around me. Hank rests his head on mine and holds me like I’m going to disappear.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “Thank you, Phoebe.”

Hank

Finally, I realize I ought to release Phoebe, even though she still hasn’t spoken. When I free her from my arms, her cheeks are pink and her eyes are glossy. She looks up at me, and for once, she’s unguarded.

“Well,” she says in a high-pitched voice as she pulls away from me, tripping over her feet. “I should go.”

Then she’s gone, trotting off down the street back to her sister’s house. I watch her, my arms still warm where I held her, my chest aching.

I don’t know if that was the right thing to do, but right then, I couldn’t help myself. The way she felt protective of Milo made my heart swell and my stomach do somersaults. She knew what needed to be done, and she did it.

My bull’s vision homes in on her as she jogs down the street, and I let out a powerful huff before heading inside. The way I need this woman is soul-crushing.

But her agreeing to help me with Milo for the next few days... that gives me hope, too. Maybe I can have what I want if I continue the course.

My poor little calf continues to sweat through the night, tossing and turning and occasionally calling out for me. I end up taking Milo to my room so he can sleep in my bed and I can keep a better eye on him.

By morning, I’m exhausted, but he’s got enough energy to shake me awake.

“Daddy,” he says. “Phoebe came over last night. She took me to the hospital.”

“I know, squirt,” I tell him, yawning. “She told me.” I try to rub the sleep out of my face. “Seems you like her.”

Milo’s bright blue eyes are simply glowing. “Yeah! She’s quiet, but she feels really big things.”

It takes me a second to understand, but I think I agree with him. “She does, doesn’t she?”

Phoebe has a tough exterior, but I know she’s soft on the inside. It’s just one of the many traits I’ve come to admire about her.

I have to go to work again that afternoon, so I call Phoebe to give her my schedule.

She shows up at the front door two hours later with a backpack on, ready to take over.

I show her what I had planned for dinner, and she assures me she can cook some pasta without too much direction.

The confidence with which she takes control, pouring a cup of water and carrying it while she goes to find Milo in his bedroom, gives me a tingly feeling.

He’s awake, playing his handheld game in bed, but he tosses it aside when Phoebe walks into the room with me right behind her.

“Remember how I said Phoebe was going to look after you today?” I ask. Milo nods furiously. “Okay. You’re sick, so try to take it easy.” I kiss his forehead and rub the rounded stubs of his horns for good luck before backing away.

Phoebe waves me off. “No need to hover. You can go to work now. Milo and I will be fine. Right?” She ruffles his hair and he giggles.

They look so natural together that my heart goes wild in my ribcage.

“All right. I’ll be back around three in the morning.” I nod at Phoebe. “Feel free to use the guest room.”

She nods and waves me off, so I see myself out, a great weight off my chest.

Whatever happens, I know Milo’s safe with her.