Page 66 of Owned By The Cowboy

“Where’s the patient?” I hear Blayne’s deep voice ask. My hero.

“In here,” Nia calls out. “And she’s being difficult.”

He appears in my bedroom doorway, wearing work clothes and looking like he ran all the way here. His hair is messy, there’s concern written all over his face, and seeing him like this makes me want to cry with relief.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says softly. “Heard you’re feeling rough.”

“I’m fine. Nia’s being dramatic.”

He takes one look at me and frowns. “You’re not fine. You look like hell.”

“That seems to be the consensus.”

“When did this start?”

“I woke up feeling a little off, but…”

“She’s been up half the night,” Nia interrupts. “I heard her in the bathroom around three AM.”

“Nia!”

“What? It’s true. And you keep shivering even though it’s like seventy degrees in here.”

Blayne steps closer and puts the back of his hand against my forehead. His touch is cool and gentle, and I have to resist the urge to lean into it.

“You have a fever,” he says.

“It’s just a little bug. I’ll be fine by this afternoon.”

“Maybe. But right now, you need to be in bed. And these kids need to get to school.”

“I can handle…”

“Regina.” His voice is firm. Look at my man going all daddy cowboy on me…

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden. You’re sick.”

“But you have work. I know you’re busy…”

“The crew can handle one day without me. But you can’t handle one day trying to take care of everyone when you can barely stand.”

He’s right, and I hate that. I hate being weak, needing help, hate the fact that I can’t even take care of my own kids when they need me.

“Hey,” Blayne says softly, leaning to catch my gaze, like he can read my thoughts. “It’s okay to need help sometimes. Doesn’t make you’re weak. Makes you human.”

“I just feel so useless.”

“You’re not useless. You’re sick. It happens.”

“Not to me. I don’t get sick. I don’t have time to get sick.”

“Well, today you’re making time.”

Before I can argue further, he’s guiding me back to bed, pulling the covers up to my chin, and checking to make sure I have water and tissues within reach.

“I’m gonna get the kids to school,” he declares firmly. “You’re gonna stay right here and rest.”