Page 9 of Work It Out
Children, all of them. But Samuel was right. They were hers.
Yes, she was standing between Jake’s thighs, but he appeared ready to topple over. This wasn’t sexual. Okay, it wasn’t totally not sexual, at least not on her end. But she was being as professional as possible. Besides, he was too sick to feel anything but miserable.
“Blaine.” She kept her gaze on Jake. “Go to the gym and grab a couple cans of oxygen from the first aid kit. Samuel, get the throw blanket off the sofa. Pierce, find him two acetaminophen and a huge glass of water.”
“I’m fine. I really don’t—” Jake began once again, pulling away from her grasp.
She covered his mouth with one palm. “Put your pride in your pocket, Newman. The altitude doesn’t care how big your dick is. It’ll kick your ass regardless.”
He pulled her hand away, and his grin turned loopy. “You say the sweetest things.”
She was torn between shaking them all and laughing. “Unless you want to end up in the ER, you’ll do what you’re told. And don’t think I won’t have your ass hauled out of here. The last thing I need is a lawsuit when you pass out and crack your over-valued noggin. My insurance isn’t up to the strain.”
What she didn’t tell him was that she’d do damn near anything to keep him out of the hospital, if only so she didn’t have to step foot in one. Even the memory of antiseptic stink gave her flop sweats.
Turning, she found the guys standing exactly where she’d left them, mouths gaping like fish. “Move. Now.” Self-preservation must have kicked in because they scattered.
“You gotta teach me that,” Jake mumbled. “It’d really come in handy on set. Or with Granny Jean.”
Despite her nerves, a chuckle bubbled out. “It’s cute you think that’d work on Jean.”
The last of his energy, all the fight he’d shown, drained out of him and he groaned. “I’m supposed to be at her place at six. If she finds out I’m not acclimating like I should, she’ll go into hardcore coddle mode, Pierce’s diet be damned.”
“Don’t worry about that now. I’ll take care of Jean.”
She bent down and tugged off his shoes. Blaine stormed back into the room hauling two cans of compressed oxygen, a bottle of Tylenol, a big glass of water, the throw blanket, and a bad attitude. “Here.”
“That was fast,” she said accusingly.
“Had oxygen in my truck. I keep it on hand for Earl.” He smiled at Jake. “One of my clients. Really, really old guy.”
Jake ignored the obvious bait. “Thoughtful of you. Earl’s good peeps.”
Geeze. Blaine was taking overprotective to a new level. Or maybe a really old one, like paleolithic old. Was he growling?
She took the glass of water and handed it to Jake. “You, drink this. And you,” she turned back to Blaine, “set that stuff on the bed and go find out if Pierce has any more appointments today. If he does, he’ll either have to cancel them or farm them out. He needs to keep an eye on this one.”
“He doesn’t.” Jake drank deeply. “Have appointments, that is. He cleared today and tomorrow for me.”
Blaine stared at Jake, then Rayah. Back to Jake. Without another word, he left in a silent man-huff. Not that she harbored any illusions about him going far.
Rayah shook two pills into her palm and handed them to Jake. “You’re probably dehydrated. Between the flight and the altitude, it’s not uncommon, but it makes it harder to acclimatize. Rest for today. Drink lots of fluids. We’ll see how you feel tomorrow. But be warned, if your symptoms get worse, Pierce is calling a squad. And he’s staying here with you tonight.”
“Sure thing, boss.” For once, Pierce’s expression was serious as he watched Jake lie back on the mattress.
She covered Jake with the throw, ignoring the insane urge to stay and watch over him herself. He’d be fine with Pierce. They were friends, and it wasn’t like Jake was in any real distress.
When she started to step away, Jake caught her arm. His thumb rubbed hypnotically over the tender skin on the inside of her wrist. “Thank you, Rayah.”
A shiver of awareness danced up her spine, and she almost smoothed the hair from his forehead. Distance, she needed to put some distance between them before she did something stupid. Gently, she pulled free of his grasp and turned back to Pierce. “Get one can of oxygen in him before he crashes. Keep the other in case he needs it while you wait for an ambulance. And let me know if you guys need anything.”
She paused in the doorway, watching Pierce spray oxygen under Jake’s nose and encourage him to take deep breaths.
Where she slept was now the least of her worries. Her desert dreams had likely died a sweat-soaked death that morning, and Jake’s were currently circling the drain. When it came to altitude sickness, there was no cure. People either acclimated or they left for lower ground. Judging by Jake’s listless eyes and heaving chest, option two was a definite possibility.
That left Rayah with her last crazy-pants plan. Heaven help her, to save Explosion she might have to throw herself headfirst into Bigbone’s nuttiest tradition.
Chapter Three
