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EMORY

“ W hat’s wrong with you?” Aiden asks me on Friday morning.

He’s shirtless, of course, wearing those glasses, of course, and sipping a coffee.

He’s sunburned on his shoulders, where freckles are starting to spring up from all his mornings on the boat.

I want to lick him. He probably smells like sunscreen and sweat and sunshine. If I could smell anything.

I feel like I’m dying.

“I’m fine.” I take a seat at the counter and blow on the tea he made me. He does that now. Has tea waiting when I get downstairs, because he’s always up first.

I flick him a glance from under my lashes. I wonder if he’d stay in bed if he had a real wife. Would he cuddle? Would he delay his morning sail?

His eyes are narrowed on me now instead of the news he consumes every morning. “You’re not fine. That’s coffee. You don’t like coffee.”

I set the mug down. “I can’t really taste. Pass me the other mug.”

He passes it warily before crossing his arms. “You’re sick.”

“Just a minor cold. I’ll be fine. I have to go to work now.”

“Emory. You need to rest.”

I glare. “Don’t growl at me. I have things to do. You’re not my real husband.”

His eyes spark. “You want to play that game? I fucking love games. Bring it on.” He bares his teeth in a smile, and something clenches inside me.

“You can’t tell me what to do.” I sound like I’m five years old, but I don’t have snappy comebacks today. I barely have a working brain today, but I do have a meeting with an architect.

“Funny.” He cocks his head. “You liked when I was telling you what to do last night. And you moaned my name like you were my real wife.” His tongue swipes over his bottom lip like he’s remembering exactly what made me moan.

“So the way I see it, if you need someone to take care of you when you’re sick, that man is me. ”

Heat rises with dizzying swiftness. “I need to leave,” I mutter. I stand in a rush, swaying only a little on my heels before I blink down at my feet. “You know, my shoes are two different colors.” I shut one eye. “I think they are, at least.”

Aiden’s hand is on my elbow, then on my forehead. “Jesus, you’re burning up.”

“What are you? A doctor?” I lean my head against his chest. “That’s nice,” I murmur.

“This is how I know you’re sick. You don’t think I’m nice.”

“Not you.” I shut my eyes. I don’t feel great standing up. “Your body.”

“Okay, Em. Back to bed.”

“No.” I push off him and grab for my keys, but he snatches them off the table. “Aiden,” I growl.

“Absolutely not.” His phone is at his ear, and my keys are in his hand. Dusty watches me from the couch, not interfering, content to enjoy the morning sunshine spilling in through the windows. I give him wide eyes, because really, he should be helping me. But he just wags his tail.

“Hello, Benedict. It’s Aiden Prince.” My gaze jerks back to Aiden’s face.

He’s smirking as he watches me, then his hand shoots out and grabs my elbow as I sway.

“My wife is very sick today. She can’t come to work.

” His smile grows. “Sure, I’d love to play blackjack.

Next weekend? Yes, I’ll be there. I look forward to taking your money.

” He slides the phone back into his pocket.

“I’m not climbing those stairs.” I glare at him.

He rolls his lips between his teeth, fighting a smile, and shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

“Great.”

I turn, then yelp in surprise as Aiden scoops me up. Dusty yelps and jumps off the couch.

“Aiden, put me down.”

“No.” He turns for the stairs. “I will sit on you to keep you in bed, so help me god.”

I sigh and rest my cheek against his chest. The fight is draining out of me, and it really is a nice chest. My lids drift shut as we climb, Aiden carrying me with ease. “I’ve never been invited to blackjack night,” I mumble.

“Why not?” Aiden’s voice rumbles under my cheek.

“I’m too good. They won’t let me play.”

He makes a disapproving sound. “That’s a shame.”

“I’ll teach you,” I tell him. “Otherwise you’ll bankrupt us.”

He barks a laugh as we reach the landing. “I don’t know if you know this, but I’m very rich.”

“And my brothers are very motivated.”

Aiden toes open the door to my bedroom and lets Dusty bound in ahead of us. He sets me on the bed. “Clothes on or clothes off?” he asks.

I groan. “It took me so long to get dressed. Clothes on. I can’t face removing them.” I curl up on top of the bed and pull one of the throw blankets over me. “I’m just going to nap for a bit, and then I’ll go in.”

Aiden glares down at me, arms crossed, looking absolutely fucking edible, because this is my fate. I’m married to the hottest man I’ve ever seen. “Stop looming over me.” I shut my eyes.

I hear him sigh, then the mattress dips under his weight. “Scoot,” he says.

“What are you doing?”

I crack heavy lids to see him pulling those reading glasses out of his pocket and opening his phone.

He looks at me over the tops.

Oh god.

Everything inside me pulls taut.

“Staying,” he says crisply. “Since you don’t take instructions well.”

“Do that again,” I whisper.

“What?” He gives me a bemused smile.

“The thing where you look at me over the top of your glasses. All broody and stern.” He does it again, and I sigh. “God, that’s hot. If I’d had you as a professor in college, I would have failed so fast.”

He laughs before his fingers sift through my hair. “Go to sleep, Em. I’ll be here.”