Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
He tended to the hearth and soon had a roaring fire inside it before returning to the bedside. “I'm going to get you some juice to drink. Is apple okay?” Apple juice was my favorite, so I nodded excitedly, but wished I hadn't when dizziness hit me. “Do you need the bathroom before I go?”
I answered with a quiet, “No,” not wanting to move my head again.
“Do you need me to change you?”
His question sent my pulse into overdrive. As much as I wanted to jump at the offer, and have him take care of me in that way, cleaning my skin and wrapping me in fresh, soft cotton, I knew I had to decline until he knew what it meant to me. I tried to keep the disappointment from my voice when I answered, “I'm okay.”
“Okay, just let me know when you're ready.” He combed his fingers through my hair, and then leaned forward to press a gentle kiss on my forehead, making my heart pound out of control once more. He stood up from the bed and as soon as he left the room, I wanted him to come back. I wanted to feel his kisses on my forehead or whatever other body part he wanted to put his lips on.
I'd never felt like this before. I'd never had such an instant and strong connection with someone. My dating history wasn't extensive, but I had gone on dates. No man I'd ever gone out with made me feel like this. Not that Weldon and I were having a date. It was more like a rescue mission.
It took several long minutes for him to reappear, and I realized why when he carried in a bowl of some kind of soup. When I saw what was in his other hand, my stomach did a cartwheel. He'd brought me apple juice, as planned, but it wasn't in an ordinary cup. It was in a purple sippy cup which had two rubber handles.
When he saw me eyeing it, Weldon said, “I thought it would be easier to help you.” He placed the bowl of soup on the nightstand before sitting next to me on the bed. He held out the cup and asked, “Is this okay?”
Words escaped me. How could I explain that it was so much better than okay? That this moment was everything I'd ever dreamed of? Instead, I just nodded as my tongue traced my lips in anticipation. Weldon smiled and held the cup out to me; not for me to take, but for me to drink from. He kept it securely in his hand as I wrapped my lips around the spout. I lightly bit down on it, loving the springiness of the rubber between my teeth.
I took a long draw, splashing the sweet liquid across my taste buds, quenching not only my thirst, but the desires of my heart. It was a simple act which meant so much. I quickly sucked down gulp after gulp, chasing the flavor and sensation.
“Easy,” he cautioned. “Try to take small sips. Too much too quickly could make you sick again.” I slowed my drinking, swallowing only a small mouthful at a time. “There you go,” he said, combing his free hand through my hair. “Good job, Taterbug.”
My heart skipped a beat. Not only was Weldon allowing me something that I’d desired for so long, he was encouraging me. He even seemed proud of me. I took a couple more drinks before releasing the spout from my lips.
Weldon placed the cup on the nightstand and picked up the bowl. “This is just chicken broth. It will be easy on your belly. As long as you don’t have any problems with it, I think you’ll be fine to eat regular food for dinner.” I was thankful that he knew about the poisonous berries I’d eaten, and how to help me recover.
I nodded and he scooped some of the liquid into a spoon. He gently blew on it to make sure it wasn’t too hot before offering me the bite. Once again, he didn’t hand me the utensil or the bowl. He didn’t expect me to feed myself, and appeared happy to help.
I knew that’s all it was; that he was just being an incredibly nice man. He had no way of knowing the significance this moment held for me; that I was imagining I wasn’t sick, and that Weldon was my Daddy, feeding his boy.
As I took the bites he offered, my daydreams warmed my stomach even more than the soup, but that warmth was wrapped around a ball of guilt. I had to tell Weldon about my desires. It wasn’t fair to take advantage of the moment like this. But I selfishly decided to allow myself just a few more bites first.
Chapter Four