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Dirty Daddies: 2020 Anniversary Anthology

Page 2

by Maren Smith


  “I was outside for a walk and Linc called out to me. I must have turned too quickly or something. Because the next thing I knew, I woke up here.”

  “Right. Did you feel sick? Have a headache? Have you noticed any dizziness before this?”

  “Umm.” How much to tell him? She didn’t want him to think she was actually ill. She didn’t have time for that.

  “Charlotte,” Clint said warningly. He was standing at the end of the bed, his arms crossed over his wide chest, a scowl on his face. He’d changed back into jeans and a plaid shirt. She’d wanted to peek in on him in his suit earlier. Which is how she’d come to be outside their bedroom door, accidentally eavesdropping on his conversation with Kent, when she’d heard him talking about eloping.

  Guilt swamped her. He didn’t want any of this wedding. She’d pushed him into it.

  “Tell Doc the truth,” Clint warned.

  She licked her lips and glanced over at Doc. “Umm, well, I guess I felt a bit dizzy earlier today.”

  “All right, anything else? Headache? Sore throat?”

  She shook her head then winced. “I’ve got a bit of a headache right now.”

  Doc nodded. “Think you can sit up okay? I want to check your throat and have a listen to your chest.”

  “Yes, I can.” She put her hands down to push herself up. Suddenly, Clint was there. He moved pillows around so she was half-reclining. She gave him a small smile.

  “Thank you.”

  Clint’s face softened before he moved away so Doc could examine her. He looked down her throat, felt her glands. Then he peered in her ears, before checking her breathing with his stethoscope.

  “Right, Clint, can you help her lie on her side and pull down her pants. I’ll take her temperature.”

  She groaned. See? Here came the butt stuff.

  “Did you just say here comes the butt stuff?” Doc asked, raising an eyebrow.

  She could feel herself going bright red. Whoops.

  “Umm, maybe?”

  Doc turned to Clint. “Butt stuff?”

  Clint shrugged as he moved the blanket off her and reached for her jeans.

  “There’s always butt stuff with you, Doc,” she muttered.

  Doc rolled his eyes.

  Clint leaned in to whisper in her ear. “There’s plenty of butt stuff you like.”

  Oh dear Lord.

  He slid her jeans and panties down, taking them off entirely. Then he rolled her so she was facing away from Doc. She knew the drill and pulled her legs up to her chest. Clint placed the blanket back over her, rubbing her back gently as he sat on the bed, his thigh brushing up against her back.

  “Good. Raise the blanket and part her bottom cheeks for me.”

  She buried her face in the pillows as she felt Clint following Doc’s orders.

  “Here’s the thermometer, Charlie,” Doc said quietly, slipping the cool, glass rod deep into her bottom.

  Jeez, with how often she had this done you would think it would get easier.

  It did not.

  Clint rubbed her back, knowing this wasn’t fun for her.

  Doc pulled the thermometer free moments later. “Keep her covered with the blanket. Charlie, you can roll over.”

  She moved onto her back and looked up at Doc as Clint rearranged the blanket.

  “Charlie, when is the last time you ate?” Doc asked.

  She blinked. Then she forced her mind to think.

  Doc made a noise of displeasure. “I’m guessing if it’s taking you this long to remember then it was too long ago.”

  “Charlotte, what did you have for lunch?” Clint asked.

  Lunch? She glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. Shoot. How was it two already?

  “I think I forgot. Sorry. But I ate breakfast.”

  “Really?” Doc asked. “And what did you have?”

  “Ahh, Lucky Charms.”

  Clint groaned. “Charlotte, that is not a proper breakfast.”

  “Sorry,” she whispered. “I was in a rush and I wasn’t very hungry. There’s a lot going on at the moment.”

  Clint ran his hand over his face. “This is my fault. I haven’t been around much lately. You think she fainted because she didn’t eat enough today?”

  Doc reached out a hand and gently grasped hold of hers. He examined her nails and fingers. “When was the last time you drank some water?”

  She licked her lips. “I’m… I’m not sure.”

  Doc sighed. “Her temperature is up slightly and she has a bit of a red throat. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s coming down with a cold. But what really worries me is that she seems rundown. She appears to have lost weight. She isn’t eating or drinking enough. How about sleep? Is she getting regular naps?”

  Clint’s jaw was tight as he shook his head. Poor Clint.

  “Right. Since this is not the first time we’ve run into this issue and because we want you to be fully well for your wedding, I’m grounding you and putting you on bed rest.”

  Her mouth dropped open. Grounding her? Could he do that? She looked over at Clint, who was frowning. Was he going to object?

  “For a week?” Clint asked.

  Wait. He was going along with this? Were they actually serious?

  “Let’s make it five days. Depends on how quickly this temperature disappears. You’ll need to put her back on the suppository vitamins again.”

  Clint just nodded. Crap. This kept getting worse and worse. She didn’t want those damn suppositories again. And she definitely didn’t want to be grounded or on bed rest. Whatever the hell all that entailed.

  “What? You can’t ground me.” She looked from Doc to Clint. “Can he?”

  “He’s Doc. Of course he can, if he thinks that’s what’s best for your health.”

  “What does being grounded mean?” she asked. It was a first for her, surprisingly.

  “It means you’re not leaving the house,” Doc told her, pointing at her. “You’re staying in bed for at least two days. I will visit again then to reassess. It means no phone. No computer. You can watch T.V. or read if you’re bored. But I want daily naps.”

  She was expected to not only lie around in bed but be able to nap and sleep? What the hell? And she could watch T.V. or read? She was going to go insane. She had so much to do. She needed her phone. She had things to organize. And her bridal shower was in four days.

  “I can’t do that,” she croaked. “The wedding is in ten days. I don’t have time to lie around in bed.”

  “You’re doing what Doc says, Charlotte,” Clint told her firmly.

  “But… at least… can’t I have my phone? I can do most of it from bed if I have my phone.”

  “Nope,” Doc said. “I want total rest. You’re grounded because you haven’t been taking care of your health. If you’d told Clint that you were feeling dizzy or tired or ill, then I would have just prescribed some vitamins and rest. But since I know you would keep going until you collapsed again, you’re grounded.”

  “This isn’t fair. How am I supposed to get anything done? There’s still so much to do. I can’t manage it all if I don’t… have… access…” She suddenly found it harder to take in a breath. Her throat tightened, the room spinning dizzily.

  “Whoa, little darling. It’s all right. Don’t panic. Hey. It’s okay.” Clint moved around on the bed so he was facing her, he took her hands in his. She felt so small. His big hands dwarfed hers.

  “Calm down. Everything will be okay.”

  “It won’t… it won’t be. It will all be a mess. I’ve got so much to do. I don’t… I don’t…”

  “Easy. Just breathe. Just breathe, Charlotte.”

  “Nice deep breaths, Charlie,” Doc coaxed calmly. “In. One. Two. Out. One. Two. That’s it.”

  “Good girl,” Clint added, his gaze steady on hers. “I’m here. You’re fine. There’s no need to panic.”

  Her breaths started to come more easily and the room steadied. A wave of exhaustion washed
through her and she slumped back against the pillows behind her.

  “Everything will work out all right, little darling,” Clint reassured her.

  “How? How will I get it all done?”

  “You won’t,” he told her simply. “I will.”

  “What?” She gaped at him. What was he trying to say?

  “I’ll take over organizing everything. Write me a list with details and I’ll do it all.”

  “But you don’t even want any of this! You don’t even want the wedding!”

  Clint reared back at her words.

  Behind him, he heard Doc clear his throat. “I’ll get going. I haven’t brought any suppositories with me. I’ll bring some down. I’ll also grab some of the nutritional shake that Caley takes. Might be a good idea for Charlie to have it as well. Especially if her throat gets sore and makes it harder for her to eat.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Clint said quietly. He stared at Charlie, who was watching him with wide eyes. Tears welled and she blinked. They dripped down her pale cheeks, nearly breaking his heart.

  “Little darling, what are you talking about? What do you mean, I don’t want this wedding?”

  “I overheard you talking to Kent,” she told him with a sniffle. She reached up to wipe at her cheeks and he grabbed a couple of tissues from the bedside table, wiping her cheeks. “I know I shouldn’t have been listening. I just wanted to catch a peek of you in your suit. I heard you tell him how we should just elope. That you didn’t want any of this. Clint, I’m so sorry.”

  He stared down at her, then gathered her onto his lap as she started to sob in earnest. Shit. She’d heard him say that? He hadn’t really meant it. Well, he sort of had. But he’d never have said it had he known she was there. She knew better than to eavesdrop in on conversations. Part of him wanted to scold her. The other part wanted to get down on his knees and apologize for making her feel like he didn’t want this.

  Damn it. He’d fucked up.

  He rubbed her back. But her tears didn’t slow. Poor little darling.

  “Charlotte, I need you to stop crying now. Come on, this isn’t good for you.”

  No response. He knew her reaction was partly due to exhaustion. She’d worn herself out. He should have seen it before now. Bear had warned him. Fuck, could he have messed this up anymore?

  How to get her to stop and listen, though? Well, he could think of one way. And it was probably something they both needed right now. For him to take control.

  “Little darling, listen to Daddy.”

  Instantly, he felt her paying attention.

  “I want you to stop crying now, baby. Daddy is going to make everything better. I promise. First, though, you need to calm down.”

  She sniffled and he grabbed some more tissues, wiping her cheeks then helping her blow her nose. He placed her back on the bed so she was reclining against the pillows and he was facing her, his hands on the mattress as he leaned into her.

  “Charlotte, I am so sorry.”

  She blinked, staring at him like he’d grown a second nose or a really hairy mole.

  “What?”

  “You said sorry.”

  He frowned. “I know how to say sorry.”

  “You never say sorry.”

  He sighed. “I’m saying sorry now. Although, you shouldn’t have eavesdropped on a private conversation.”

  “Sorry,” she muttered, glancing down at her lap.

  He reached out and tilted up her chin. “Nothing good ever comes from listening to other people’s conversations, little darling.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I’m in trouble, huh?”

  “Well, since we’re both in trouble, we’ll call that one even. What you are in trouble for is wandering off without telling me and for not letting me know that you weren’t feeling great.”

  “I didn’t realize I wasn’t feeling well. I mean, I guess I’ve had a few dizzy spells.” She rubbed her head. “I thought I was just a bit stressed and tired.”

  He placed his hand around the back of her neck, massaging. “I don’t want you to be either of those things. And if I wasn’t working so much to get some time off then I would have noticed. I should know better. I employed Linc as the ranch manager to free up my time, so I could take care of you better.”

  “You always take care of me,” she protested.

  “Not well enough this time.” Guilt filled him. “And I didn’t mean what I said, little darling.”

  She bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes again. Christ, he hated when she cried. He really hated that he was the cause.

  “Don’t cry, baby,” he crooned.

  “Sorry.”

  He wiped her cheeks again.

  “I didn’t mean to force you into a wedding you didn’t want. We don’t have to have the wedding at a church. And I don’t need the horse and carriage. And you can wear what you want—”

  “Hey, look at me. Look at me.” He waited until she raised her eyes. “I want this wedding, Charlotte.”

  “But you’d be happy with a quick ceremony in Vegas, you don’t want all this other stuff—”

  Clint placed a finger on her lips. He deserved an ass-kicking for making her feel this way. “I want what makes you happy. I will admit, I was surprised that you wanted a big, church wedding. But I’m happy when you’re happy. I was just venting because I hate ties.”

  “Ties?”

  He nodded. “Ties.”

  “You don’t have to wear a tie.”

  “But that’s what you want.”

  She shook her head. “I used to dream of my wedding when I was a kid. I would dream up a fantasy because my homelife was so crap. I guess I also thought that a big wedding might make up for the fact that I don’t have any family here. But I don’t want it if you won’t enjoy it. I would never force anything on you, Clint.”

  Fuck. It was official. He was a jerk.

  He cupped her face between his hands. “Listen to me. All I want in this life is for the people I love to be happy and safe. This is what you dreamed of so it’s what you’re gonna get. And I’ll get what I always wanted. You, tied to me forever. I get to put a ring on your finger and ensure that everyone knows you’re mine. I’m a demanding bastard. I know that. I get my way in most things. I want you to have your every desire, little darling.”

  “Don’t wear the tie,” she whispered. “Please.”

  “All right. No tie. See, done. Perfect.”

  “Really?” she whispered. “Are you sure?”

  He leaned in and kissed her. Then he moved his hands away from her face. “I’m sure.”

  After studying him for a moment, she let out a deep breath, nodding. Relief filled him.

  She chewed her lip, looking worried again. “Except how can I get everything done if I’m stuck here in bed for a couple of days?”

  Looking at her pale cheeks and listening to her husky voice that told him her throat was feeling sore, he thought it would likely be longer.

  “I told you, I’m going to do it all.”

  “But you have enough to do.”

  “Then I’ll rope in some help. I’ll go get a pen and paper and you can write down everything that needs doing.”

  She gave him a skeptical look.

  “I can do this. I’ll take care of the wedding. And I’ll take care of you as well. That’s my job, little darling.”

  Chapter Four

  Clint clapped his hands, looking around at the men in his office. Bear stood by the door, silently watching over everyone. Kent, Zeke and Macca were sitting, talking. Jed leaned against the wall to his right. Bain was scowling as he stared down at his phone, tapping away.

  Zeke, Jed, Macca and Bain all worked for JSI, while Bear worked on the ranch. But he considered them all to be family.

  This was everyone who had been available to help on short notice, but he thought it would be enough. How hard could it be, getting all this stuff done?

  “Now that we’re all here, let’s get on with this
.”

  The door opened and Doc and Archer stepped in. That surprised him, usually one of them was always with Caley.

  Plus, Doc wasn’t exactly the helpful type.

  Doc nodded to everyone as he walked up and handed Clint a paper bag. “Here’s the vitamins and a bottle of that nutritional shake I was talking about. Is she sleeping?”

  Clint nodded, taking a quick look at the baby monitor. He’d fed her a late lunch then waited until she’d fallen asleep before calling everyone to meet with him.

  “So what’s going on?” Archer asked. He was new to the ranch. A head doc. Clint had rolled his eyes when Kent said he was hiring him. What the hell did they need with a shrink? But he seemed to be an okay guy. So long as he didn’t get into Clint’s head.

  He liked it just the way it was.

  “I need your help. You may not have heard, but Charlie fainted today.”

  Some nodded, others looked at him in concern.

  “She’s all right, but she needs to get some more rest and eat properly. Doc’s grounded her. She’s currently upstairs taking a nap. She’s on bed rest for the next two days at least.”

  This time everyone gave a satisfied nod. When a Little was ill, she needed extra coddling and looking after.

  “The wedding is in ten days,” Bear spoke up. “You need our help?”

  Clint nodded; glad his friend had gotten to the heart of it. He turned the whiteboard around. At the top he’d written: Wedding Shit To Get Done.

  Kent groaned at the wording.

  “Doc wants Charlie to completely rest, which means no organizing stuff. So it’s all on me.”

  “Which means you’re roping us in to help,” Bain said dryly.

  “You bet. No need to do everything myself when you’re all sitting around, twiddling your thumbs.”

  “I quite enjoy a bit of thumb twiddling,” Archer offered with a grin. “Helps me think.”

  “Well, you can twiddle your thumbs as you pick up all the stuff Charlotte needs from in town. She’s got a list.”

  “Sure. I like shopping.”

  Clint gave Doc a look. Seriously? Archer liked shopping? Doc just shrugged. “He’s weird.”

 

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