Page 47 of Haden

“In my bathroom.”

“Heating pad?”

“Also in my bathroom. I can manage. I’ve been doing so for seven years.”

He flinches. “Well, now you’re not alone. You text me when you start feeling bad, and I’ll come help you get comfortable.”

I inhale deeply. “Fine.” The only way to get him off my back is to agree, so I do. And I will text him because I can’t imagine the wrath he’d unleash on me if I don’t.

Haden holds out a hand, palm up. “Give me your phone, baby.”

I tug it out of my back pocket, open the screen, and hand it to him. A few seconds after he taps away on my screen, his own phone pings.

“There,” he says as he sets mine on the desk. “I texted myself, so now I have your number, too.”

Just as Haden stands, the door to the office opens. A man I don’t know steps in. “Are you Haden?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Mike Sparks.” He holds out a hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m glad you’re here. I’m just getting started on renovations, but we can use all the help we can get.” Haden nods toward the entrance. “Let’s head over to the mansion, and I’ll show you what we need to do.”

Relief that he’s going to stop hounding me makes it easier to breathe.

Haden grabs the braid he fixed himself and gives it a tug, forcing my head back. When I’m looking up at him, he bends down and kisses me. “Text me,” he orders. And then he’s gone.

Apparently, our working relationship will not be separate from our personal one. He just fucking claimed me possessively in front of a stranger.

Why am I grinning?

Chapter 17

Haden

* * *

I’m worried about Emilia. I don’t like finding out that she’s had such debilitating symptoms once a month. She needs to see a doctor. Maybe something is wrong.

I get caught up organizing Mike and two other men from town who are going to work on renovations. I’m grateful that Gretchen recommended them and Brody arranged their hire before I arrived. This way, we’re not wasting valuable time. I’d rather hit the ground running, especially now that I know there’s a substantial fire hazard.

I’ve also learned that these men and others have worked here before. In recent years, Old Man Wilde fired nearly everyone. He didn’t think he needed the help. He was wrong, but the guy was ninety-five. He probably wasn’t playing with a full deck by the time he died.

The important thing is that there are people in town who need jobs and know this mansion better than anyone living in it.

It’s nearly noon before Emilia texts me to let me know she’s going to lie down.

Everyone is on task, so I let Brody know I’m going to check on her and head for her room.

That’s where I find her on her knees, leaning over the toilet, vomiting. I go into a panic. Vomiting? What the absolute fuck? She didn’t mention this.

I rush toward her, grateful that I braided her hair this morning. If I hadn’t, it would be dangling in the toilet. The first thing I do is wet a washcloth. And then I squat down next to my girl, gently setting a hand on the back of her neck.

She’s breathing heavily. “It’s okay. I’m done.” She spits into the toilet a few times before giving me a wan smile. “I was hoping you would miss this part. But you never miss anything.”

I wipe her face. “Never, baby. I’ll never miss anything. Do you also vomit like this every month?”

“Yeah. But just once. I’m done. I promise. And I feel better. Now I just need drugs and my heating pad.”