“Fuck off, Baptiste.” There was no heat in his words. He was too busy fighting with the thermometer package, swearing under his breath.
I took it from him, opening it easily.
He glared. “Show-off.”
“You’re welcome.”
Eva giggled, and my heart melted for her.
I sorted through medicine bottles, finding the right ones. Cole got her a glass of water and held it up to her lips so she could take the medicine.
“I can hold my own water,” she said dryly, but something in Cole’s expression halted her complaint. She sipped silently.
He held up a thermometer, and she obediently took her temperature.
“102.3.” His voice was tight. “That’s too high.”
“It’s not.”
“It’s too high, Eva.” His phone was already out again.
“Cole.” I caught his wrist. “Medicine first. If it doesn’t come down in an hour, then we can call a doctor.”
He looked at me, then at Eva, then back at his phone, and finally nodded, stiff and reluctant.
I opened the chicken noodle soup, lifting a spoonful to her lips.
Eva raised an eyebrow. “I can feed myself.”
“Dammit, sparrow. Let Tristan take care of you,” Cole snarled, and her eyes widened. “He needs to,” Cole said softly, surprising me with his insight.
“Please, kitten? Just a little?”
Eva nodded and let me feed her a spoonful of soup.
She ate slowly, each swallow clearly an effort.
Cole adjusted her pillows, moved her hot water bottle closer, then repositioned the tissues.
“You’ve fluffed her pillows four times,” I said drily.
“I—”
“They’re fine.”
“Thank you,” Eva said softly, reaching out to hold Cole’s wrist. “They’re perfect.”
“Stop reassuring me,” he muttered, moving away from her and crossing his arms, his expression grumpy. “We’re supposed to be making you feel better, not the other way around.”
Eva’s eyes widened, and she smiled, the first genuine smile I’d seen since we got there.
“Good girl,” I murmured when Eva finished half the soup. “That’s perfect.”
Her phone buzzed—Alek. She held out her hand, and I reluctantly handed it to her.
Alek
What do you need?
