“I’m at her disposal.” He nods in my direction.
Noelle grins at me. “Lucky girl.”
“I’m sick.” I shrug. As if that’s any excuse. “He’s here out of pity.”
She slings her bag over her shoulder and turns towards the barn. “Whatever works. Let’s go get Misty taken care of.”
When I step inside, the lingering dust in the air sends me into a coughing fit.
Damn it, he was right.
“Why don’t you wait out here? We can take care of her.” Oliver moves closer, his hands twitching at his sides. He sounds genuinely concerned.
“I’ll be fine,” I sputter, choking out another volley until I nearly gag. “Fucking mucus.”
“Soph, please?” The way he says it makes me pause.
Almost like he really cares.
I wish Biggie was here, looking at me like that.
Except I don’t even know what Biggie looks like.
Not even what color his eyes are.
This has to change. I need to give in and tell him. I don’t want to keep hiding.
“Okay. I’ll go back in. Thank you,” I say weakly.
Man, this cold has really kicked my ass.
“Good girl,” Oliver exhales. “Go get better.”
“You’re hysterical.” I’m pissed I can’t be there with my horse, and now he’s dropping praise bombs making me feel…weird.
Another spasm in my lungs knocks the wind out of me.
My knees give as I cough so hard I almost dry heave.
Before I can protest, Oliver scoops me up, his arm under my legs, the other around my shoulders and cradles me against his broad chest.
“And…that’s enough of that shit. You’re going back to bed.” His words vibrate against me in a deep rumble.
“Put me down.” But I don’t struggle.
“In a second.” He cuts across the muddy ground and stops in front of Uncle Dixon’s house.
Lori swings the door open with her fingers over her mouth, fighting a smile.
“Go get better, you can yell at me later.” Without fanfare, he sets me down and stomps away.
“Are you okay?” Her voice is laced with thinly veiled humor.
“Yea, just my pride got hurt. This damn cough.” I toe off my boots and collapse onto the couch.
Lori shakes her head. “Did you see how he looked at you?”
I lean back, melting into the cushions and wishing I could magically transport myself into my bed. “Like he was mad?”
