He was worried about Rowan. Even though they were doing great as a couple, it didn’t stop him from worrying since his mate wasn’t doing so well. Mikhail could see that Rowan had lost some weight, and he knew it was because he had midday to evening sickness and couldn’t seem to keep anything down.
He couldn’t even blame Rowan when he snapped at him. It was quite evident that his mate was having a miserable time. All he could do was be there to support him. He felt bad because as miserable as Rowan was and as sorry as he felt for him, Mikhail was happy. His mate was not only open to them but had called Mik his mate more than once since the first time.
Mikhail had just stepped out of the shower when Rowan came into the room. It wasn’t quite quitting time for him, so Mikhail knew that his mate must be feeling quite rotten.
Rowan didn’t say a word to him. He simply went over to his side of the bed and got in, pulling the duvet over his head.
A smile tugged at Mik’s lips, and he lowered himself to his side of the bed, placing a hand on the lump that was his mate’s body. “How are you feeling there, babe?”
The only reply he got was a grunt.
“Got off work early, I see?”
This time he didn’t even get a grunt.
“Did you manage to keep anything down today?” Mikhail couldn’t help the trace of concern in his voice.
Rowan’s peaked out from under the covers. “I had a lot of popcorn, some cashews, and midget gums.”
Mikhail frowned, and before he could speak, Rowan interrupted him.
“I know, I know. Sweets do not a healthy meal make, but everything else just looked rank at the Co-op.”
Mikhail placed his hand on Rowan’s head and lowered his own down for his welcome kiss. It was slow and sweet, and Rowan’s response to him had his towel tenting.
Rowan broke the kiss and looked him in the eyes. “I only had a minty Mentos, so technically, you’re kissing my pukey mouth.”
Rowan seemed to be watching for his reaction, so Mik lowered his head again and took Rowan’s lips in a deeper kiss that had both of them groaning in no time.
This time, when Mik broke this kiss, he held Rowan’s gaze and whispered, “I don’t care.”
Rowan gave him a tired smile before yawning. Mik could see his mate was five minutes away from falling asleep, but the alpha couldn’t let him sleep without eating.
“Babe, would you sit up for me. We got some food delivered today from the new company we wanted to try. Just have a little something please before you sleep.”
Rowan covered his eyes with his arms. “Food sucks.”
If Mikhail’s calculations were correct, they were just getting to the end of Rowan’s first trimester, so he hoped that meant the puking would stop. All the websites he’d read said the morning sickness—by the way, whoever came up with that name had lied—should stop after the first half.
Even though he’d encouraged Ro to stay in Manchester and work, a part of him wanted to kidnap his mate back to Whitfell where his papa could keep a close eye on him. But he’d spoken to his papa who had reassured Mik that some people just had it worse.
“Please, just have a little something…” He pushed Rowan’s hair back before adding, “…for me.”
Rowan lowered his arm so one eye peeked out. “That’s low.”
Mikhail winked at Ro. “Whatever it takes.”
Mik got off the bed and headed to the small dining table where he’d left the food after eating his portion earlier.
He kind of wished that he’d gone for an apart hotel because then he would be able to cook for Rowan, but he’d asked the concierge to pick up a microwave, and since he’d paid for two months, they’d obliged.
They’d got tired of their food options at the hotel, and Mik definitely had not wanted to feed his mate takeout daily, so about a week ago, they’d spent a couple of hours searching for homecooked food that was delivered daily.
Mikhail picked up the insulated bag that their food had been delivered in and grabbed the glass container with the sweet potato and carrot soup, which was alongside the sourdough bread.
He’d eaten his earlier and was pleased with the food. They’d had to switch to mostly vegetarian for the time being since it was the only thing that didn’t make Rowan’s stomach revolt.
He poured the soup into one of the bowls he’d picked up at Next—it had come in a twelve-piece set and was an angular design he quite liked. Mikhail put the soup in the microwave for only three minutes since the bag it came in had kept it pretty warm, and at the ding, he got it out, poured it into the bowl, and stirred. Then there was the bread. It had also been delivered today and was sourdough; one of his favourites. Mik cut up a couple of slices and put in on the flat plate, then placed the soup bowl on the corner of the plate. He grabbed a spoon, a knife, and the small butter packs that thankfully the hotel sent them for breakfast, then put everything on the wooden tray that previously held the coffeemaker and a couple of other items and took the food in for Rowan.
