He’d been close to death before and hadn’t felt nearly as miserable as having that damn stomach flu. Plus he had to watch Noelle suffer knowing he couldn’t do anything to fix it for her. The best he had to offer was crackers and hydration. The bear wanted to snuggle her close to comfort her, even though they were both sweaty and miserable and smelling pretty rank. If he’d had the strength, he would have dragged them both into the shower.
Not that the thought of a naked Noelle reminded him of actually getting clean.
He heard part of her conversation with Kara, in between dry heaves, and braced himself for more questions from Noelle, maybe an angry Owen battering down the door to kick Jameson’s ass. Jameson probably wouldn’t have put up much of a fight, since death seemed preferable to continuing on without Noelle or with the stomach flu. But she stayed quiet and reflective in the living room, occupying the nest of blankets and pillows he’d made earlier.
He fed her and ensured she had whatever she wanted to drink, and he didn’t push for another conversation about what the future might hold, even though the bear mentally paced and grumbled about locking things down. Putting a ring on it, getting her to verbally commit, signing a lease or something, anything that meant she intended to stay.
Eventually he couldn’t take the passivity. He had to do something to convince her, to make Noelle see that he was serious about supporting her in whatever she wanted to do. He needed a plan. Something he could do to move things along, while not spreading the plague to anyone else. He retreated to one of the guest bedrooms where he’d dragged his stuff, and called Sasha. “All right, fucker. You owe me huge for your pals not showing up and leaving me stranded in the snow. I need some help.”
Apparently Owen couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut, because Sasha and everyone else already knew that he’d discovered Noelle was his mate. Luckily most of them were happy about it, although apparently one of the little girls sobbed because she wanted to marry Jameson. Their thirty year age difference and her being only five didn’t bother her. He shook his head and tried not to smile, since it was pretty damn adorable, and figured he could at least buy the sweetheart flowers.
Jameson had bought a lot of goodwill upstairs by dragging the doc back to the building in time to save Kara and the baby, although the doc was still stuck there due to the blizzard. She basked wherever she could find sun and refused to trek through the snow again until it was in a vehicle with a heater. But everyone in the bear den was more than willing to help him make Noelle’s Christmas a special one.
He just wished they could both stop puking long enough to remember what day it was. The second day of the illness was Christmas Eve, and he’d started to feel better enough he could drag himself downstairs to make sure none of the other bears had fucked up the decorations. At least the tree was still alive, and the various boughs and garlands stayed in place. He dragged himself around to make things as perfect as possible for Noelle and her girls.
She still hated Christmas, which was no surprise given the events of the previous week. The stomach flu was really the nasty icing on a shitty fruitcake. Jameson would have tried to impress her with a giant diamond or expensive presets, but the blizzard kind of put a limit on his options. It took way too long to come up with a good solution, but when he did, he couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off his face. Even Sasha found it nauseating.
He waited to get to work until Noelle had gone to bed, luckily very early, after doing a long call with her girls. The twins were generally aware that Christmas was happening soon, from being around the older kids, but it was obvious they had no real idea what that meant. Which was just as well.
He spent the next hour cutting out paper snowflakes, hanging up tinsel and bows and shit, and snapped a few branches off the back of the giant tree downstairs to make a sad Charlie Brown kind of Christmas trees right there in the apartment. It took a little pilfering and asking for help from upstairs, but he managed to find stockings, presents, and matching jammies for the girls and Noelle. He thought he escaped the whole onesie jammy embarrassment until Sasha, grinning like a bearded Cheshire cat, produced the matching outfit for Jameson, too.
So he added that to the list of ‘favors’ he owed the Russian.
It was almost midnight, but still technically not Christmas, when he finally climbed into bed with Noelle. He’d meant to go into his room and lay awake with nervous excitement, like he had once or twice as a kid, but his feet took him to her room and he couldn’t turn back. She barely stirred as he slid under the covers and spooned her, though her arm drifted up to touch his face and shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
He kissed the side of her neck, glad she no longer felt so feverish, and pulled her back into the curve of his body. “Nothing. Wanted to snuggle. You want me to leave?”
“No,” she murmured. Noelle buried her face in the pillow but held on to his arm where it draped over her side. Her butt fit perfectly against his groin, too, which reminded the bear of all the fun they’d had a few days prior. She wiggled and settled down, patting his hand. “I’m definitely not up for that, big guy. Not until I’ve gone longer than two hours without yarfing.”
“Done and done.” Jameson reined in his lust, since there’d be time for that later, and kissed the back of her neck, her shoulder, down her arm. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”
Noelle huffed and wiped at her cheeks, though he couldn’t tell if it was sweat or tears she tried to hide. “Some Christmas Eve. Separated from my kids, sick as a dog, no presents to look forward to, and a blizzard outside. Just wonderful.”
“Bah humbug, you beautiful thing.” Jameson chuckled. “Get some sleep and maybe you’ll wake up to a Christmas miracle.”
She tensed and looked over her shoulder at him, suspicion waking her up even more. “What did you do?”
“Nothing.” Jameson nudged her to lay back down. “I just checked downstairs and everything still looks okay. I think you’ll feel better after the kiddos get to see what’s down there.”
“Maybe.” Noelle sighed and tried to get comfortable again with the pillow and his arm in the way. “Hopefully we’re both feeling better. The kids shouldn’t be contagious anymore, so at least we dodged the pox.”
“The doc checked them over and said they’re all mostly scabbed over so should be fine to be around tomorrow.” Jameson stared past her shoulder at the closed door. “She recommended we stay away until then, too, so we don’t risk giving them the flu again. They should be fine but she said not to risk it.”
It was just a slight fib, since it wasn’t precisely what the angry tiger said. He just didn’t want Noelle running out of the apartment to get her kids. She needed more rest. They’d both feel much better the next morning. He just hoped she didn’t go full Scrooge on him and found just a teensy, tiny bit of the Christmas spirit. Otherwise his big plan would fall as flat as all four of the tires on her car.