Chapter 126

She studied the items in the bag a moment before opening the door. She only hoped he'd take the little gift in the right way. As she walked through the living room she shrugged and wondered if he was still asleep. On the way to Philly from Carly's he'd been shivering and sick. Now? He was fighting a full fledged cold. When not at the arena or setting his guitars up he was full to the brim of cold meds. It wasn’t a pretty sight that red nose and that scratchy cough. But did he take time off? No, none of the the band or crew did, no matter how much she and Geena complained. They dosed up on all they could, chewed gum like madmen and spit wherever they wanted. Gross. It was and forever more would be just gross. Thank God he had the good sense to spit into Kleenex when not on stage.

 

She’d been nothing short of grateful when they'd shown up at Carly's after Montreal. Between the fight with Jon, the semi resolution to all that tension, and now Richie’s cold, she was on pins and needles. He had to be single most the worst patient in the world. His sunny nature went somewhere in the vicinity of Timbuktu while sick it seemed. Hearing his voice all gruff AND whiny was beginning to play on the last of her nerves. If it wasn't fix the pillows honey, it was "I'm still cold," or "can I have juice?" Not that she minded taking care of him, she really didn't mind, but he grumbled about being sick constanty and didn't want her anywhere but beside him.


 

They had hunkered down for those two days, him in the bed sounding like some weird odd mixture of goose and fog horn, and she tried to nurse him back to health without puking on him each time she saw him cough up his lungs. Okay maybe it wasn’t lungs, but it damn sure seemed like it.


By the end of day two, nerves and body frazzled she escaped to shop, and ending up buying stuff for him instead of her. Figures, he’s the big baby, and I buy for him.


She smiled as she walked along the hallway, again surprised at the elegant taste the man with the naughtiest mind and mouth had. And he's color blind, he obviously had to have someone help decorate, or no telling how this showplace would have looked.

 

Stepping to the bedroom door she called out a soft "I'm home," just in case he'd awoken, her stride taking her to the bed as she curiously looked around the empty room. Well where did he go?

Richie walked out of the bathroom freshly showered in a pair jeans and button up black shirt. Thank God he felt like himself today. Two days of sneezes, cought and wheezes were driving him around the bend. He had to admit, with exception to the cold, having a lovely wife there to cater to all his needs had been nice. He knew though that his less than sweet nature as a patient had finally worn thin. That was probably why he’d awoken alone.


"Well there you are, wondered where you went off too." He sauntered over and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, still playing it careful just in case he had any cold germs left. Fuck if he’d make her sick, especially now.

She tilted her head to return the kiss then pulled back one brow arching. "you obviously missed the note on the bedside table, just like you missed my lips."

He gazed over to the bed stand and chuckled "So I missed the note, the kiss was dead on Darlin’. Don’t want my baby getting sick now do we? "

Her eyes wandered over his body a smirk starting to build. "Thanks to the cold and working out you've lost weight and you look yummy enough to.... " She held the bag up, as her words trailed off. He still wanted to take care of her and that warmed her heart, also made the buying of said present even better. "Wanted to get you something you hadn't worn a million times for the Philly shows baby. Hope you don't mind."


Richie glanced at the bag his eyebrow arching. " You got me something?" His tone was almost childlike in its pleasure. He did love those presents bought for no good reason other than the person had thought of him.

She held the bag away from his hands. "That's what I said Rich." She grinned as he almost snatched for the bag, "It's a self serving gift that might just keep on giving though."

He peeked in the bag. "Well what do we have here?" He pulled out a pair of brown leather pants and tight black knit shirt "Trying to show me off a bit baby?"

"I Just think it's time you showed off the work you've been doing on yourself. Kinda tired of reading all the silly crap online that has you all pudgy and old looking. Hell you almost look as young as me these days love." She winked as one finger traced the tight black long sleeved tee he had on. “If you wont wear a button up at least I can see the muscle definition."



He grinned " Yea Jon's a slave driver at the working out thing, but I think I kinda like it . We get to chill and work off some steam and get all sexy for our ladies "

She snorted as she moved to the bed, straightening the covers he'd left all willy nilly. "More like working off frustration when the women feel like shit."

"I didn't say it you did," he winked. " So how you been feeling?" He pulled her closer, his hand moving to rest on her stomach.He couldn't get enough of feeling that tiny bump that meant he'd have another child.


Ever since their discussion in Montreal over her clothing, her mood had been up down and sideways. He was never sure exactly which Bri he’d get at any given moment. Truthfully two days of cold med induced sleep had been a nice break. For the moment though she seemed okay. She was even laughing.

 

She leaned back against him and tried to not laugh, "the same I've felt the last three days Rich. Sometimes ill sometimes not, and thankfully not as sick as you or Geena. She called early this morning to alert me that Jon might be grouchy tonight. Seems she had one good night and it was back to praying to the toilet Gods for the next two nights."


Richie winced. "Poor Girl. Can't she get something for it? As for Jon I think that little trip in the limo did the trick. He's been a lot more understanding about her nausea."

She grinned slightly, "I’m not the one that has to deal with Rocket J, Thank God."

Richie shot her a puzzled look. "Rocket, what rocket?"

She turned and glanced up at him, and couldn’t decide if she should tell him or not. Shrugging off the idea of how much teasing she was setting into place, she started. "Well if you're Bullwinkle, he's gotta be Rocket right?"

Richie stood there for a moment thinking about what she said then a deep roar echoed out of his throat. "You got to be kidding me Squirrel? You're equating him to a squirrel?" Richie's laughter started, his humor fighting the remains of his cold as he tried to catch his breath. "G doesn't call him that does she? Oh God Jon is gonna—“ He broke out into another fit of laughter

 

She watched him laugh and couldn't help joining him. "No, G doesn’t, but we all called you, umm.." She paused and started to blush, "You were the moose, those silly pants are the moose guard and it just hit me, Bullwinkle was the moose, and considering your best friends with Jon, well wouldn't it make him Rocket J. Squirrel?”

 

“Oh this is gonna be fun. You need to tell her to hang on, cuz you know I’m gonna use this darlin’. Hell I I dunno which is funnier Rocket or Squirrel. I guess I’ll try both! " He roared again tears streaming, "Damn, another reason I’m glad I got the moose now."

 

"So am I."