Page 71 of The Reluctant Alpha

"No, I don't," I admitted miserably. "But I reserve the right to be dramatic about this."

"Of course you do."

"And panicky."

"Absolutely."

"And completely in denial for at least another twenty-four hours."

Bayer chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Whatever you need."

I finally felt stable enough to risk moving and turned to face him. "What I need is a toothbrush, mouthwash, and possibly an exorcism."

"I can help with two of those," he offered, standing and retrieving my toothbrush from the counter. He handed it to me with toothpaste already applied, then filled a cup with water.

I brushed vigorously, desperate to erase the acidic taste from my mouth. After rinsing and using a very generous amount of mouthwash, I finally felt somewhat human again.

"Better?" Bayer asked, helping me to my feet.

"Marginally," I admitted, leaning against him. His solid warmth was comforting, even as my mind raced with implications I wasn't ready to face. "This doesn't mean anything, you know. People get sick all the time without being..." I waved my hand vaguely.

"Of course," Bayer agreed, but his scent had changed subtly to a warm, spicy note. Wait – I could smell him? Since when was that normal?

"Stop smelling happy," I grumbled, as he guided me back to bed. "This is a crisis."

"I'm not smelling of anything," he protested, but his lips twitched again. "Maybe you're just more sensitive to scents now because—"

"Twenty-four hours of denial," I reminded him, pointing a warning finger. "That was our deal."

"Right. Sorry." He tucked me back under the covers with such gentle care that I felt my irritation melting despite myself. "What can I get you? Crackers? Ginger ale?"

The thought of food made my stomach lurch again. "Just water, please. And maybe a time machine so I can go back and make some different life choices."

Bayer disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a glass of water. "Esther will want to check on you."

"No," I said firmly. "No Esther. No tests. No confirmation of anything until I've had time to process this possibility that we are definitely not discussing."

"Danny—"

"Twenty-four hours," I insisted, taking a small sip of water. "Please, Bayer. I need time to freak out privately before everyone starts knitting tiny bear onesies."

His expression softened. "Okay. Twenty-four hours." He sat on the edge of the bed, taking my free hand in his. "But you're not alone in this. Whatever 'this' turns out to be."

I squeezed his hand, grateful for his understanding even as panic threatened to overwhelm me. "I know."

"And for what it's worth," he added carefully, "I think you'd make an amazing father."

The simple sincerity in his voice caught me off guard, bringing unexpected tears to my eyes. "Don't be nice to me right now," I warned, blinking rapidly. "I can't handle nice."

Bayer nodded solemnly. "Would you prefer I be a jerk? I could try, but I'm not very good at it."

That startled a laugh out of me. "No, I suppose not. Being a grumpy bear is about as mean as you get." And I was so fucking lucky.

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "How about I just be here? No expectations, no discussions about...things we're not discussing. Just me, being here for you."

I nodded, suddenly exhausted. "That sounds perfect."

"Try to rest," he suggested, standing reluctantly. "I need to check in with Phoenix, but I'll be back soon."