Page 21 of Desperate Pucker (Denver Bashers #6)

Maddy

When I wake up, my head is throbbing and my stomach feels like it’s been hollowed out and folded in half.

I groan into my pillow. God, I feel like crap.

“You’re bad at following directions, princess.”

My eyes go wide at the sound of Ryker’s voice. Slowly, I sit up and look around. My gaze lands on his massive, muscled back. He’s standing at my stove cooking something.

What the hell? What is he doing here?

And then, a second later, my foggy brain remembers. He came over to check on me when I didn’t show up for work. He made me drink water. He gave Bruce treats and made fun of his name. And then he left to get me food.

The shock fades, leaving behind a warm and fuzzy feeling.

He turns around and pins me with a serious gaze. “Drink your water.”

Goosebumps fly across my skin. I reach over and grab the glass from the coffee table and drink it.

A minute later, Ryker walks into the living room carrying a tray with a bowl of soup and a small mug of tea.

“You need something in your stomach.” He sets the tray in my lap.

My stomach growls at the savory smell. “What is this?”

“Chicken bone broth.”

I dip the spoon in the liquid, blow on it, and take a sip. I close my eyes at the mild savory flavor and how warm it is.

Ryker sits in the armchair next to the couch. “Did you throw up while I was gone?”

I shake my head and take another sip. “I just slept.”

He reaches over and presses the back of his hand against my forehead. My skin tingles at the feel of his skin on mine.

“You don’t seem to have a fever.”

“I’m not sick sick. It’s just food poisoning.”

“You can have a fever with food poisoning sometimes.”

“Are you a nurse in addition to a hockey player?”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “I used to babysit my younger siblings growing up, and sometimes when they’d get sick, I’d look after them.”

That warmth inside of me intensifies when I picture this tough, grumpy guy looking after his little brothers or sisters.

“Are you the oldest?” I ask.

“Yeah. My parents had me when they were pretty young, in the middle of college.”

“Oh, wow.”

I glance up and see that he’s looking at me. His bourbon eyes are focused and watchful. His gaze lingers before he glances off to the side. Almost like he doesn’t want to take his eyes off me. It makes my tummy flip.

“How much older are you than your younger siblings?”

“Sixteen years. My brother and sister are twins. They’re nineteen.”

I set my spoon down and grab the mug. “What’s this?”

“Ginger tea. It’ll help settle your stomach.”

I take a long, slow sip. He stands up and grabs my empty water glass, then heads to the kitchen to fill it up.

I watch him as he rolls up the sleeves of the shirt he’s wearing. I zero in on the thick muscles of his forearms, how they flex when he turns on the faucet.

That familiar flash of heat hits me. This hot, serious man is also a doting caretaker. That’s really fucking sexy.

I clear my throat and keep eating my soup.

“Easy,” he says when he sets the glass down in front of me. “Don’t eat too fast.”

“You pestered me to eat, and now you’re changing your mind.”

“I don’t want you to vomit again.”

I set my spoon down. I don’t want that either. He’s already seeing me at my grossest—unshowered, my hair a rat’s nest, wearing dirty, oversized pajamas. I don’t want him to see me puking my guts out too.

A wave of self-consciousness washes over me. As sweet as Ryker is being right now, part of me can’t help but feel uncomfortable that he’s seeing me like this—at my weakest and most vulnerable.

I sip my water. “You must love being the oldest sibling. You love being bossy. I bet you bossed around your little brother and sister constantly.”

It’s petty that I’m teasing him, but it’s the only way I can think to feel normal right now.

There’s a flicker in his gaze as his mouth slants up. “You know that’s my greatest joy in life, princess. Bossing people around.”

I let a soft laugh slip. A second later, his phone rings. He frowns at the screen. When he answers, I turn to pet Bruce while he snoozes next to me on the couch.

“Yeah, sure. How many cookies do you need?…You want them all decorated pink?…Sprinkles or no sprinkles?…sure…okay…sounds good…be careful when you go out tonight, okay?…love you too.”

He ends the call and slips his phone back in my pocket.

“Do you have to leave?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nah, that was just my sister asking me to bake a bunch of cookies for her.”

“Wait, you bake cookies?”

“Yeah.”

I go quiet.

“Why is that so surprising to you?” he asks, his tone on the edge of amused.

“You don’t look like the kind of guy who bakes.”

Amusement flickers in his eyes. “I like baking. And cooking.”

“Do you do it a lot?”

“Yeah, when I’m in the mood.”

“What are you baking for your sister?”

“Pink sugar cookies. She’s a volunteer tutor at an after-school program for girls who are from low-income neighborhoods. She likes to bring them treats, so I bake them cookies sometimes.”

My heart flops in my chest at how freaking sweet he is to do that.

A second later, guilt throttles me. I think about how we clashed the first few times we met—how I assumed he was a sexist jerk because he didn’t want to work with me.

A sexist jerk wouldn’t do what he does. I was wrong to think that about him.

I clear my throat and eat more of my soup. As I get closer to the bottom of the bowl, I notice a bunch of tiny, star-shaped pasta.

“What’s this?” I look at the spoon.

“Pastina. I used to put it in the chicken broth I’d cook for my little brother and sister when they were sick. It was their favorite pasta and the only way I could get them to eat.”

There goes my heart bouncing around my chest again. “That’s insanely cute, Ryker.”

He finally lets a small smile break free. My tummy does that loopy thing again. God. It always feels like winning a game I don’t even know how to play when I get this guy to smile.

“Did you have to watch them a lot growing up?”

“Mostly when they were little. Kids that age get sick a lot. I’d look after them when my parents were at work so they wouldn’t have to pay for a babysitter.”

I wonder if money was tight for Ryker’s family growing up. Hockey is an expensive sport, just like figure skating. Unless you have a lot of money, it’s a struggle for most parents to pay for their kids to do either activity.

“That’s when I started baking,” he says. “When the twins were on the upswing after having a fever or some stomach bug, I’d bake them cookies as a treat.”

I smile. “Best big brother ever.”

His stubbled cheeks flush the lightest shade of pink as he rubs the back of his neck. “They think I’m annoying.”

“Well, yeah. All siblings are annoyed by each other. But deep down, I bet they love you a lot.”

Warmth flickers in Ryker’s eyes when he looks at me. I finish most of the soup in my bowl, along with my tea.

“How are you feeling?”

I let out a breath. “A little better. Still pretty weak and achy, but my stomach feels more settled. I’m craving sugar now.”

Ryker shakes his head. “No sugar for you just yet.”

I stick out my lip, but he just stares at me.

When I yawn, he nods at the pillow at the end of the couch. “You should get some sleep.”

A tiny ping of sadness hits me. Does he want me to sleep so he can leave?

“You probably have to head out, right?”

“I’m not going anywhere, Maddy.”

He gets up, makes his way over to the couch, and tucks me under the blanket. He leans down and brushes my hair out of my face. I melt.

“Why do you keep calling me Maddy?”

He lifts an eyebrow. “Because that’s your name. You told me it was fine to call you that when we met.”

“Yeah, but everyone else calls me Madeline. I figured you would too eventually.”

His eyes flicker with something I don’t recognize. Something warm and fiery.

“I like that I’m the only one who calls you Maddy. It makes me feel like you’re mine.”

My stomach dips. Oh.

I’m caught off guard by how much I like that.

Ryker and I are in a weird limbo right now. When we met, we didn’t like each other, but we figured out a way to work together. Sometimes we get along. Sometimes we fight like sworn enemies. He’s kissed me breathless and made me come. He drops everything to take care of me.

My heart swells in my chest just thinking about it. I don’t know what exactly we are to each other. All I know is I like it.

I like that he calls me Maddy. I like that he thinks of me as his.

“You’ll stay with me?” I ask, my eyelids feeling heavy when I blink.

“Yes.”

I yawn again. “You can turn on the TV if you get bored.”

“Don’t worry about me, princess. Just rest.”

He runs his hands through my hair. Tingles fly across my scalp.

“Oh god, that feels so good,” I murmur.

He sits on the edge of the coffee table, gently running his fingers through my hair until I fall asleep.