“Oh, the struggle.” I laugh and roll my eyes.
“Don’t get sassy, Kels.” His voice drops and I smirk.
“Oh yeah? What are you going to do if I do?”
“Open the door and find out.”
I freeze. No, no, no, no.
I rush to the door and look through the peephole. Landon is standing on my front porch, his phone still in his hand, pressed against his ear. I just got out of bed so my hair is piled on top of my head in a messy bun and I’m wearing an oversized T-shirt and my sleep shorts.
Without thinking, I yank the door open. I can tell I’m smiling like a dork because my cheeks are hurting.
“What on earth are you doing here?” I ask as I hold the door open for him to come in. His eyes roam my body and I become extremely self-conscious as he does. I’m not used to the way he blatantly just checks me out anytime he can.
“I want to drive you to Urgent Care.” He looks at me shyly.
“Landon, you don’t have to do that. Really.” He steps toward me.
“I know I don’t, but I want to.”
The look he gives me melts any reserve I had. He steps up beside me and presses his lips to my temple before he moves down the hallway toward my room.
I follow and step into Carter’s room to gather some clothes for him to wear. He’s only worn pajamas and probably needs shower.
I grab some things for him to wear and walk across the hall to my room. .
“Hey, buddy. How’re ya feeling?” Landon leans down and brushes the hair from my son’s forehead. “Gosh, you’re burning up.” He looks back to me with such a worried expression written across his face.
“C’mon, baby, you can just wear your pajamas to the doctor.” I help my son to a sitting position and grab the thermometer from the nightstand beside the bed. I run it across his forehead and behind his ear. 103.4.
“What is it?” Landon asks. His hand presses against the small of my back as he leans his large frame over my shoulder to read the thermometer. “One-oh-three?”
“Yes, we need to go.” Landon nudges me out of the way and gently places Carson in his arms and carries him down the hallway to the front door. I open the door and follow them out, locking up behind me.
Landon is quick to get Carson buckled into the booster seat in the back of his jeep and I move to the other side to get in.
The wait at Urgent Care was ridiculously long and the only reason we were moved to a room forty-five minutes after arriving is because Landon is Landon. When the receptionist laid eyes on him, she catered to our every need until we were pulled back.
The door opens and a young nurse practitioner walks through. She flicks her gaze to me then back at the file in her hand. “So, fever huh?”
“Yes, it started yesterday afternoon and we’re having a hard time keeping it down,” I reply.
“Obviously. You shouldn’t have waited this long to bring him in.” Ouch. That statement makes me feel like a shitty mother. She tosses her file on the counter beside the sink and moves to wash her hands. She is clearly someone who doesn’t love her job wholeheartedly and it shows.
She turns, tossing the paper towel in the trash can, and notices Landon standing against the wall. Her entire expression changes then.
“Hello,” she purrs. She actually purrs, like a cat. “I’m Alicia. I’m a huge fan.” She holds her hand out to Landon; he glances down at it quickly then pushes off the wall to stand beside the bed Carson is currently curled up in a ball on.
She shakes off the obvious rejection and grabs her stethoscope from her neck. I step back to give her room to check Carson out, but she chooses to stand on Landon’s side. A little too close.
I’m not used to being jealous, but this bitch is starting to hit a nerve.
She presses one end to Carson’s chest and listens as he breathes. She tells him to take a deep breath, which only causes him to cough uncontrollably and begin crying. I move closer to him and press a kiss to his temple.
“It’s okay, baby,” I whisper in his ear.
“It sounds like he may have bronchitis and possibly strep since you said his throat has been hurting. He will need to be swabbed for strep and possibly some breathing treatments to try to control this so it doesn’t turn into pneumonia.” She flicks her hair after placing the stethoscope around her neck again. Her attention zones back in on Landon and I visibly watch her hungry eyes roam his entire body.
Landon rolls his eyes and steps around the table, coming up behind me. He grabs my hand and stands there staring at her.
Take that, bitch.
“How long will he need to be on this medication and when will we see improvement?” I ask.
“Obviously, when he starts feeling more like himself, that’ll be when you’ll notice.” She rolls her eyes and walks to retrieve Carson’s file.
“Hey.” Landon’s voice is so deep it sends a chill down my spine. “Don’t talk to my girlfriend that way, treat her with respect. Especially when she is here with her very sick son and just trying to make sure he feels better.” She starts to cut him off but he refuses. “And, if you hate your fucking job, do something different. Your bedside manners are shit and need a lot of work.” He turns his back to her and steps near Carson to check on him. I risk a quick glance to Alicia to see her face red with embarrassment and her mouth hanging wide open.
She quickly exits the room and another nurse brings in the swab for his throat. We wait a few minutes for the test results, the nurse returns giving us a prescription for medicine to help treat the strep and bronchitis. It does not go unnoticed that he called me his girlfriend, either. I’d love to ask him about this, but my focus is all over the place with Carson as sick as he is.
Once we finally found a pharmacy open to fill his prescription and get his nebulizer machine for his breathing treatments, we head to my house.
“Looks like a storm is rolling in.” Landon is looking at the weather app on his phone. “Will you be okay here by yourself?” he asks as he glances in the backseat to a snoring Carson.
“I’ll make it.” I don’t mention how storms scare me shitless. I hate thunder and lightning and my anxiety often gets the best of me. Mix that all together with an extremely sick child and I might as well mix a Xanax with alcohol tonight.
“I can stay if you want. I don’t have practice tomorrow until the afternoon.” He shuts the engine off. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“Actually, I’ll take you up on that offer. I’m terrified of storms and the thought of this all happening while Carson is extremely sick already has me on edge.”
“It’s settled then.” We both hop out of the car. He grabs Carson easily and I follow behind with the bags from the pharmacy and his machine.
Chapter Twelve
After finally getting Carson to take his medicine and sit for a fifteen-minute breathing treatment, he finally falls asleep against Landon on the couch. Landon has one foot propped up on the coffee table and one arm stretched across the back of the couch, with Cars playing on the TV. Carson is snuggled into the side of Landon, his little mouth wide open, and he’s finally getting restful sleep.
I finish cleaning up the mess from the medicine and put everything in the kitchen. Carson has to do a breathing treatment every six hours, even through the night, so I set an alarm on my phone to wake me up.