Sweet Sunshine

by Jessica Prince

  So why was I having so much trouble keeping my shit together?

  It was a moot point anyway. She’d already told me she was over her crush, so why would I think she’d even be interested?

  Every time that Fletcher asshole turned around and shot Chloe a smile or a wink, I found myself clenching my hands into painfully tight fists. All my friends call me Fletch. What a douche. And what kind of name was Fletch anyway. I’ll tell you, it’s an asshole’s name. And that asshole just turned around and winked a-fucking-gain!

  “Daddy?” I felt a poke on my arm but was still in too much of a murderous daze to register. “Dad!” The slap on my shoulder finally seemed to break the spell.

  “Huh?” I turned to look at Eliza who was leaning past Chloe, the bucket of popcorn extended my way.

  “You okay, Dad? I’ve been trying to get your attention for, like, two minutes.”

  I pasted a fake smile on my face as I looked down at her. “I’m good, baby girl. Just focused on the game, I guess.”

  She shrugged casually, never thinking to question me. “You want some popcorn? I’m full.”

  I took the bucket from her, my smile turning genuine. “Thanks, honey.” As I pulled back, my arm brushed against the front of Chloe’s shirt, just a feather light touch of her breasts against my forearm, but it was enough to make my skin tingle and for her to suck in a sharp breath, sitting up straight at the contact. My eyes shot to hers to see her studying the play happening on the field with an intensity even the most avid football fans wouldn’t give a scrimmage game, and I couldn’t help but smile, because I knew, I knew she’d been affected by just the barest hint of my touch against her breasts.

  “You okay?” I asked, trying to keep the lust from my voice. Christ, I’d barely gotten a feel, but I could still tell her tits were fantastic.

  “Uh huh,” she nodded, not taking her eyes off the field.

  Unable to resist, I leaned in a little closer, holding the bucket of popcorn in front of her. “Want to share?” I asked quietly, using the excuse of the loud crowd as reason to speak close to her ear.

  “No thanks,” she turned to me and grinned, and I noted that it didn’t quite meet her eyes. It wasn’t until her whole body shivered and she hugged her arms tightly around her, that I noticed her normally peaches-and-cream complexion looked much paler than usual.

  “Hey, you all right?” I asked, studying her face.

  When she shook her head, sending those strawberry blonde curls ruffling in the breeze, I could smell the faintest hint of vanilla in the air. God, she always smelled like what she’d baked. It was enough to drive a man crazy. She shivered again, pulling my head out of the gutter. The sun had set, making the temperature outside comfortable, but seeing as it was still summer, it was impossible she could actually be cold. “I’m good. I just think I’m getting a little head cold or something. Nothing some over the counter meds won’t knock out.”

  Reaching up, I placed my palm across her forehead, it was a parental instinct I’d acquired after Eliza was born. “Jesus, sunshine, you’re burning up.”

  “I’m fine, really,” she replied, batting my hand away. “I’ll take some meds when I get home. I’ll be better by morning, I promise.”

  “Hell no,” I objected, a strong protective feeling suddenly coursing through my blood. “You shouldn’t even be here right now. Come on.” Standing, I grabbed her by the arm and began to pull.

  “What the hell are you doing?” She stared at me in shock, digging her little heels in indignantly. “I said I’m fine, Derrick. I’m not leaving until the game’s over.”

  “What’s going on?” Harlow asked, our argument having drawn her attention.

  “Can you watch Eliza? I’m taking Chloe home. She’s running a fever.”

  “Oh for God’s sake,” she rolled her eyes and laughed obnoxiously. “I’m not running a fever. I’d think I’d know if I was really sick.” Another shiver. Damn stubborn woman.

  Harlow reached over and felt her forehead. “Uh, sorry to break it to you, sweetie, but you totally are. You shouldn’t have come if you weren’t feeling good, babe.”

  “Okay, fine!” she relented, finally. “But there’s no need for you to leave,” she told me. “I drove myself here and am capable of getting myself home.”

  “You shouldn’t drive when you’re sick, Miss Chloe. It’s not safe. Something could happen to you.” Eliza replied firmly, her face set sternly. I was suddenly contemplating letting her paint her room pink like she’d been begging to do for over a year.

  “Honey, nothing’s going to happen to me,” Chloe smiled at her sweetly. “It’s just a head cold.

  “What if you pass out?” Eliza railed.

  “I’m not going to pass out. I promise.”

  “What if you need to puke but can’t pull over in time?”

  “I’m not going to puke.” I could have sworn Chloe was trying to stifle a laugh.

  “But what if you have to all of a sudden? One of my friends at school felt totally fine, then just started puking out of nowhere! What if you do that?”

  I wasn’t positive, but I thought all the talk of throwing up was making Chloe look a little green.

  She threw her hands up in the air. “Okay, I give up. I’ll let your dad take me home, will that make you feel better?”

  “Yep,” Eliza answered with a pleased smile, tossing a handful of popcorn in her mouth. Yeah, safe to say one of the rooms in my house was going to look like Pepto Bismol.

  “You behave for Ms. Harlow,” I warned my daughter. “No going crazy, deal?”

  “Deal.” Standing from the bench, she wrapped her arms around Chloe’s waist. “Hope you feel better, Miss Chloe.”

  “Thank you, baby,” she said in a quiet voice. The tone of her voice and the way she ran her fingers through my daughter’s hair made something in my chest ache. It was a feeling I’d never experienced before, and I didn’t have a fucking clue how to deal with it.

  “Feel better, hon,” Harlow said. “I’d hug you, but… you know, germs and stuff.”

  “Love you too,” Chloe deadpanned as I placed my hand on the small of her back and began leading her away.

  “This is ridiculous,” she grumbled as we made our way through the parking lot, still being stubborn even though her body had begun trembling. I thought I’d actually heard her teeth chatter. “I’m more that c-capable of d-driving my own c-car.”

  “Uh huh,” was all I uttered in return. Watching her shake with fever next to me set something off inside me. I couldn’t stand the sight of her not feeling well, and despite all her arguing, how miserable she was feeling was written all over her pale face. That protective instinct I’d been feeling earlier boiled over at the sight of it and, without giving it any thought, I stopped moving long enough to hook my elbow behind her knees and haul her up into my arms.

  “What are you doing!?” she yelped, her arms instinctively wrapping around my neck. “Put me down, I can walk!”

  “Just humor me, okay?” I grunted, willing my body to behave at the same time my pants began to tighten uncomfortably. Yes, she was sick and I wanted to take care of her, but I couldn’t deny how amazing her lush little body felt in my arms just then. “You’re shaking like a leaf. Just let me help you.”

  With an indignant huff, she stopped struggling and held on as I made my way to my truck. I placed her on her feet in order to retrieve my keys from my pocket and unlock the door, but something in me wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. So instead, I kept my arm locked firmly around her waist as I pressed the key fob and beeped the locks. I held on until the very last possible second when she climbed in and I was forced to lock the door. I knew I needed to get over whatever was happening right then, I just wasn’t sure how to do that. I was seeing her differently all of a sudden. I felt differently, despite the fact I was well aware nothing could ever happen between us.

  It’s because she’s sick, I kept telling myself.

  “Thank you,” she
whispered once I’d backed out of my spot and exited the parking lot.

  “For what?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the road instead of looking at her like I wanted to do.

  “Bringing me home. I could have asked Harlow to take me. I’m sorry you had to bail on Eliza.”

  “Eliza adores the ground you walk on.” I caught myself smiling genuinely when I pictured my little girl’s face every time Chloe came into the room. “She probably would have thrown a raging tantrum if I let someone else take care of you.”

  Chloe laughed and, despite being sick, the sound was still reminiscent of tinkling bells, just as it always was. I glanced over to see her head resting against the passenger window, her eyes closed. “She’s special, Derrick. You’re so lucky to have her.”

  How Chloe felt about my daughter caused that squeeze in my chest to return ten-fold. For nine long years I’d hoped and prayed Layla would pull her head out of her ass and view the perfection that was our Eliza the way Chloe did. But as more time passed, I became increasingly worried that was never going to happen.

  And I feared what that would do to Eliza.

  How much more would she flourish with someone like Chloe in her life? I shook the thought out of my head as soon as it popped up.

  “Thank you,” I replied, my voice sounding raspier than normal. “I know just how lucky I am to have her. And you’re welcome for the ride. I don’t like seeing you sick.”

  Her voice was softer, more tired as she replied with four words… four words that left my stomach feeling sour… four words I thought I’d always be happy with, but for some unknown reason, had me white-knuckling the steering wheel.

  “You’re a good friend.”

  Why the hell did the word friend have me cringing like I’d just heard nails on a chalk board? And better yet, what the hell was going on in my head?

  Derrick

  AS ELIZA AND I walked into Sinful Sweets the next morning, I went on instant red alert. Chloe wasn’t behind the counter. She hadn’t responded to any of my texts this morning asking how she was feeling, which was why I’d insisted on showing at the bakery for breakfast in the first place. Not that Eliza argued.

  “Hey Erin,” I called, recognizing Chloe’s manager at the espresso machine.

  “Deputy Anderson.” She gave me a shy, flirtatious smile that I’d usually feed off of, but she was Chloe’s employee and flirting back with her — even though it would have been completely harmless — just felt… wrong. Besides, my mind was fully focused on one thing, and one thing only.

  “Is Chloe in the back?”

  “Oh!” That seemed to have snapped Erin out of whatever she’d been thinking about that had her cheeks turning pink as she stared at me. “No, actually, she called in sick today,” The young woman’s forehead wrinkled as she frowned. “I think that might have been the first time she’s ever missed work. She must be feeling pretty terrible.

  My gut twisted at the realization that Chloe must have been feeling worse than she was the night before. “Do you have a key to her place?” I asked the young manager. “I want to go check on her, see if she needs anything.”

  “Oh, um… yeah, but it’s supposed to be just for emergencies. But I guess this constitutes as one, huh?”

  “I’d say so. If she asks, I’ll just throw Harlow under the bus and say she let me in.”

  Erin laughed and pulled a key from her apron pocket. “Okay. There’s a stairwell in the hall if you go through the kitchen. You can go that way instead of taking the outside stairs if you want.”

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.” I turned back to Eliza, who was comfortably sitting on one of the barstools. “You okay here for a few, baby girl? I’m just gonna run up and check on Miss Chloe for a minute.”

  She looked at me with a calculating little girl grin. “If I can have a cupcake for breakfast, I’m totally cool.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “You get one cupcake. If I find out you snuck two, you can kiss that pink bedroom goodbye.” I turned back to Erin and stressed, “She gets one cupcake.”

  Erin turned to Eliza and I heard in a conspiratorial tone as I headed around the counter, “We’ll just have to make sure to give you one big cupcake, huh?”

  Eliza giggled and I caught myself smiling even as I rolled my eyes and pushed through the door into the kitchen, ignoring the curious stares as I made my way up to Chloe.

  As I slipped the key into the lock, my chest squeezed. It wasn’t that same, enjoyable feeling from the night before. It was something uncomfortable and unsettling. “Chloe?” I called as I pushed the front door opened and stepped across the threshold. “You here, sunshine?” No answer. I made my way farther into her place, my gut twisting at her lack of response. The apartment was open so I was able to see the sheet of her unmade bed, a mangled mess, half on, half off the mattress.

  “Shit,” I muttered, that twisting in my gut growing exponentially, panic setting in. “Chloe. Where the hell are you?”

  A moan sounded through the apartment, behind the only door in the entire apartment. Rushing in that direction, I shoved the door open and froze in place at the unsuspecting sight of Chloe curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor near the toilet.

  “I threw up,” she slurred in a small voice.

  “Oh, baby,” I said quietly as I fell down to my knees beside her. The rush of relief coursing through my blood at the realization she was okay warred with a concern I’d never felt for anyone but Eliza before. “I can see that.” Reaching up, I flushed the toilet and guided Chloe to sitting. Her skin was still uncomfortably hot to the touch as I brushed her matted hair from her damp forehead. “We need to get you up, sunshine. I need to get you to the hospital.”

  “No.” She batted at my hands weakly. “No hospital. I’ll be fine.”

  Despite the ticking in my jaw at her stubborn behavior, I somehow managed to speak in a calm voice. “Chloe, you have vomit in your hair and you’re still running a fever. This isn’t a goddamned head cold.”

  “No hospital,” she continued to argue. “They smell funny.”

  Somehow, by the grace of God, I managed to refrain from commenting that they couldn’t smell any worse than she did right at that moment. As I helped her off the floor I came up with another idea, because despite the fact I couldn’t seem to get my head straight where this woman was concerned, I knew there was no way in hell I’d be able to leave her apartment knowing the condition she was in. “Fine, no hospital. But your only other option is to come home with me. Either way, you’re leaving here, whether I have to throw you over my shoulder or not.”

  “Derrick,” she sighed.

  “Chloe,” I growled in a warning tone. Then, miraculously, the fight washed out of her. “Fine. But I need a shower. I can smell myself.”

  “You need help or you think you can do it yourself?”

  I wouldn’t have thought it possible, seeing as she was running a fever and, from the looks of it, had just thrown up the entire contents of her stomach, but she still managed to shoot me a killing look as she answered, “I can do it. Go away.”

  I failed at masking my chuckle as she gave my chest a pathetic shove. “Fine. I’m gonna run down and tell Eliza what’s going on. I’ll only be a second. You sure you’re all right by yourself?”

  “Yes. Just need to get clean.” Then she slammed the bathroom door in my face.

  Chloe

  THE SHOWER HAD helped, but hardly. My head felt like it was about to fall off my shoulders, and my entire body felt like I was moving through cement. That, coupled with the body-wracking chills and pain radiating throughout my entire body made me less than happy as I pulled the bathroom door open and came to a halt at the sight of Derrick rummaging through my underwear drawer. To be fair, I’d always been a horrible patient when I was sick.

  “What the hell are you doing, perv? Stop touching my underwear!”

  “Relax, crazy,” he responded, turning from my drawer to a bag he must have found in my closet, and tossing the clo
thes inside. “I’m packing you a bag so you have everything you need at my place…” he trailed off as his eyes came up and landed on me. “Fuck me,” he groaned in a pained voice as his gaze raked up and down my towel-clad body. I tried to tell myself that the goosebumps were from the fever and not his penetrating stare, but God knew I was lying.

  “Uh…” he stumbled before grabbing something off the bed and extending it my way. “You should get dressed,” he waved the yoga pants and t-shirt at me. “You don’t want to get any sicker.”

  I took the clothes from his hand and made my way back into the bathroom. Once I finished dressing and tying my damp hair in a knot at the top of my head, my energy was tapped out. Dropping down onto the closed toilet seat, I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to stop the spinning in my head and the rolling in my stomach. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d ever felt so sick.

  There was a faint knock on the bathroom door, followed by Derrick’s low, enticing voice. “Sunshine?”

  “Hmm?” I hummed, keeping my eyes closed as the door creaked open. It wasn’t until I felt the rough pads of his fingers skimming from my temple to my jaw that I opened them and met his warm hazel eyes, filled with so much concern.

  “Let’s get you out of here so you can rest, sweetheart.”

  All I could do was nod, so I didn’t have it in me to protest when he scooped me up into his arms and carried me from the bathroom. “My purse,” I said… or at least I think I did. My mouth moved, but I wasn’t sure if I was actually forming words or not.

  “I got it, sweetheart,” his chest rumbled against my cheek as he spoke. “I have everything you need. Just relax and let me take care of you.”

  As my eyelids fluttered shut and I snuggled into the heat of his chest, the last thought I had before my body fell into sleep was: It was nice to finally have someone to take the burden off my shoulders for once.