“I feel responsible for her, that’s how I feel,” he gritted out. “And right now I’m going to punch your face if you don’t tell me what’s wrong with her.”
Plopping into his chair, Julian grabbed his folder and started scanning the contents. “She’s running a fever. A high fever. Molly took her home to stay with her, and I was the guy who picked up the prescription and dropped it off.”
Garrett’s overwhelming protectiveness surged with a vengeance. Kate was never sick. Ever. He didn’t like knowing she was sick at all, and now, he felt sick inside. “I could’ve picked it up for her.”
“And tear you away from Cassandra Clarks and our plans for world domination?” Julian said. “No, bro. If that girl is selling anything, she’ll sell it to you. I saw her with you at your party. I think she digs you even if you don’t dig her.”
“She digs him enough to marry him.” Landon filled his brother in, then broached the topic currently setting Garrett’s brain on overdrive. “Is Kate still planning to move to Miami?”
“As far as I know, nothing has changed her mind. But Molly’s privately freaking out about it,” Julian said, his expression going somber. Garrett knew his younger brother was intensely territorial and protective of Molly, and even if he was usually cool as a cucumber, it must irk him not to be able to do anything to spare her any pain.
“So is Beth,” Landon murmured sadly.
Garrett looked down at the conference table and scowled. Nobody in this goddamned world could be as freaked out about it as he was.
He pictured Kate in Miami, sick and alone. Who would take her to the doctor? Who would even know that she was sick? The thought was so disturbing he pulled at his tie, feeling choked to death.
But as much as he loathed that she was sick today, maybe this would provide an opportunity to make Kate see how indispensable family that protected and cared for you was. Also, her stubbornness might be at a low point because of the fever, and he might be able to talk to her without putting her on the defensive.
“You guys don’t mind if I take the rest of the day off? If there’s even a chance of making her stay, I need to filter through her defenses and find out why the hell she wants to leave.”
“You mean you want to bulldoze through her walls, without any tact whatsoever, and screw everything?” Julian teased.
“Jules, I happen to think Kate is the one who’s bulldozed through Garrett’s defenses with her imminent departure,” Landon said.
Both his brothers looked terribly amused.
Garrett shoved his arms into his jacket and grabbed his iPhone. “Screw you. You guys know how hotheaded Kate is when she gets something in her mind—at least today she won’t have all the energy to fight me. Hell, you took two months off for your honeymoon, Landon, and you don’t even work here anymore. Jules. I’m taking a day off, no matter what you both have to say.”
Julian answered, with a laugh, “We have a lot to say about it, bro. We just won’t be saying it to you.”
* * *
“So I know you’re going to find all sorts of things wrong with my stupid soup, but it’s still chicken and broth and I’m not the baker here, okay, Kate?”
Molly set the tray with the steaming bowl on a chair by the window and parted the drapes.
Kate almost hissed as she raised her hand to shield herself from the sunlight.
“Wow. You look so bad, Kate.”
Molly’s blue eyes brimmed with sisterly pity as Kate sat up in bed and tried to peel her sweaty T-shirt off her skin. The cotton was soaked from when the fever had started dropping during her nap. Her hair was plastered to the sides of her face as if with glue.
“I feel worse than I look, I guarantee,” Kate rasped out, her throat raw.
She had strep throat. Which meant she had nausea, a throat that ached like hell and a fever that was kicking her fanny. Wonderful.
“Let me run a bath for you.”
Molly disappeared into the bathroom, and Kate groaned when she heard the loud chime of the doorbell.
“I’ll get that, Kate. Don’t even move a finger. I’ll be back in a bit. In the meantime, you can eat my sucky soup,” Molly said, poking her head back into the bedroom. Kate smiled weakly and nodded.
As her little sister went down the hall to the front door, Kate marveled at how sharp and efficient she was being.
Molly had always been a red-hot mess, but today Kate truly felt Molly’s motherly instincts surge to the forefront as she tried to pamper her big sis.
It was a rare event when Kate succumbed to being sick. She just didn’t have time for it. What the hell was wrong with her?
The stress of her move had her sleepless and anxious and now, apparently, had left her with no defenses against strep.
Sighing and plopping back on her pillow, she heard voices in the living room. Then she heard footsteps approaching. Kate opened her eyes, and her stomach dropped when she saw him.
The last man she wanted to see.
Or to be more precise, the last man she wanted to see her like this.
She flew upright to a sitting position, her cheeks warming in an awful blush when Garrett stopped at the threshold. Her blood bubbled in her veins, and the feeling was unbidden and unwanted. He looked positively beautiful, his shoulders about a yard wide, his patterned tie slightly undone. His dark hair stood up on end as if he’d been pulling at it on his drive over.
He was honestly the most beautiful thing she’d seen all day.
She indulged in a small moment of grief as she realized that while he looked so excellent, she’d never looked worse.
“Did you lose your GPS? Your office is the other way,” she said, merely because attitude was the only thing she had left now.
“I followed another compass today.” A tender look warmed his eyes as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
He removed his jacket, and her pulse jumped at each flex of his muscles under his snowy shirt.
“How do you feel, Freckles?” He draped his jacket on the back of her desk chair and rolled his sleeves to his elbows. “We should’ve made you drink tequila Saturday. That would’ve killed anything off.”
All the grogginess fled from her when he seized the tray with the soup and brought it to the bed.
“Molly suggests you eat her sucky soup.”
Kate grimaced. “I’m not hungry, Garrett,” she said in her slightly raspy strep-throat voice. “There’s no need to check up on me.”