When I Need You (Need You #4)

Jensen immediately released me to the floor.

I pulled my cell out and my heart jumped into my throat. The caller ID said GABRIEL. Nicolai’s dad. “Gabriel? Is everything all right?”

“I hate to call you, Rowan, but Calder says his tummy hurts. He said he feels like he could throw up.”

“Has he?”

“No, but I wasn’t sure what he could take for it, so I thought I’d better see what you want to do.”

I stood. “I’ll just come and get him. I’ll be there in like five.”

“I think that’s for the best. He looks pretty pale.”

My stomach roiled. “Thanks, Gabriel.” I hung up and started toward the door, my mind focused on getting to my son as fast as possible.

“Whoa.” Jensen stepped in front of me. “What’s going on with Calder?”

“He’s sick, so I have to go get him.”

“Of course you do, sweetheart, but not looking like that.”

I glanced down. The upper half of my dress was bunched around my waist. My bra—no idea where the hell that had gone. But the fact of the matter was, my boobs were hanging out as was my ass. “Omigod.”

“Here. Let me.” Jensen was as adept at getting me back into my clothes as he’d been getting me out of them. Then he tilted my head back and smoothed his hands over my hair. “Better.”

“Thank you.” I looked down to hide my face in the guise of searching for my shoes. “I’m sorry. This isn’t how I wanted . . .” I swallowed the tears that clogged my throat from worry for my child and frustration that I had to leave it like this with Jensen. “I’m sorry. You’re probably mad—”

“Stop.” He invaded my space, his hands cradling my face as he forced me to look at him. “I know we have to go, so we can talk about it later, but don’t think for one second I’m pissed off at you because your son got sick.” He kissed me quickly, but tenderly. “You need to grab other shoes, or will you be all right walking barefoot?”

My brain had gotten stuck on we. “Jens, you don’t have to—”

“Help you? Wrong. I’m here, so suck it up and let’s go.” After another quick kiss he held the door open for me and as soon as we were in the hallway, he reached for my hand.

In that moment I knew I was on dangerous ground with him.

But I couldn’t think about that now.

He squeezed my fingers and said, “Breathe, mama. You won’t do him any good if you pass out before we get there.”

I inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. Some of my lightheadedness disappeared.

The sidewalk was cool beneath my feet as we crossed to the next building. Our key card only worked for our building, so I had to use the buzzer. By the time we reached the apartment on the second floor, Gabriel waited for us in the doorway. “Sorry about this. Gejel is sitting with him on the couch. I don’t think it’s anything he ate, since we all had the same thing and none of us are sick.”

“I’m sure it’s not food-related. He just gets overly excited sometimes and this happens.”

Gabriel finally looked at the big man standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders. “Hey, Jensen. Good to see you. Wish it was under better circumstances.”

“Me too.”

I’d barely made it through the door when Calder launched himself at me. “Mommy, my tummy hurts.”

“I know, baby.” I tried not to squeeze him too tightly. “We’ll get you home.”

“But I don’t wanna go! Nicolai probably won’t ever want me to have a sleepover again,” he said between hiccupping sobs.

Nicolai’s mom said, “That’s not true. Nico had a blast with you tonight. He’s sad you’re sick. But we want you to get better so you can come over again soon, okay?”

Calder nodded. Then he noticed Jensen.

Jensen crouched down. “Hey, little dude. You ready to go?”

He walked over and set his head on Jensen’s shoulder. “I don’t feel too good.”

“I heard. Hang on.” Then Jensen picked my son up as if he carted him around all the time.

Calder snuggled into him.

“Here’s his stuff,” Gejel said.

I grabbed the backpack and the duffel bag. Good thing I had Jensen’s help; I couldn’t have carried all of this and Calder and opened all the doors. “Thanks for having him over,” I said to Nicolai’s parents.

In the hallway, I said, “Do you want me to carry him?”

He pierced me with that “Are you serious?” dark look as his answer.

I had walked ahead with the key card to open the door to our building when I heard retching. I whirled around to see vomit splattering on the pavement behind Jensen. My gaze moved from my son’s back as he heaved over Jensen’s shoulder, to Jensen’s face—or rather his profile, as his focus was on Calder.

“Set him down.”

“In a second.” Jensen rubbed Calder’s back. He murmured, “You okay?”

Calder threw up again.

I stomped closer. “Give him to me.”

Very calmly, Jensen said, “I’ve got him. I think it’d be best if one of us wasn’t covered in it.”

Oh no. “He . . . it . . . got you?”

“Down the back of my shirt and my legs.”

Now I felt ill.

Calder heaved again.

Jensen kept running his hand up and down Calder’s back, murmuring to him.

And Calder didn’t fight to get down.

I stood by, feeling helpless.

Several long minutes passed with no additional heaving.

Jensen looked at me and said, “We’re good to go.”

I unlocked the building door and held it open. Jensen chose the stairs and I followed behind him, wanting to see how covered he was.

Oh yeah. His back and his pants were a mess.

When we reached my apartment, Jensen said, “Where do you want him?”

“Bathroom.”

He lowered him to the floor, by the toilet. Then he stepped back. “I’m going to my place for a quick shower and change of clothes. Leave your door unlocked, so I can come back.”

I’d crouched next to Calder, who’d closed his eyes and rested his cheek against the bathtub. “That’s okay. You’ve already gone above and beyond—”

“I’m coming back,” he repeated. “Don’t shut me out. Please.”

This man. I couldn’t wrap my head around this side of him. He continually surprised me. “Okay.”

He sent me a relieved look, and then he left the bathroom.

Calder stirred and blinked at me groggily. “Mommy?”

“I’m here. How’s your tummy?”

“It hurts. It’s all jumpy inside.”

Poor baby. I pressed my hand to his forehead. Clammy, but not overly hot. I pushed his bangs out of his eyes. “What can I get for you?”

“Gonna be—”

I had him over the toilet before he finished the sentence.

He’d hit the dry-heave stage. Hopefully that meant his stomach was about to settle down. I managed to get him undressed. Then I wet a washcloth and sat him on the edge of the tub and gently wiped him down.

The floor creaked and I glanced over my shoulder to see a freshly showered Jensen leaning against the doorjamb. “What do you need?”

Calder blinked at him with confusion.

I said, “Clean pajamas would be good. There’s some on top of Calder’s dresser.”

“I don’t wanna wear pajamas. I’m hot,” Calder said crossly, and shivered.

“How about just a T-shirt?” Jensen said diplomatically.

“SpongeBob,” Calder insisted.