Chapter 311: Wife, I’m Not Afraid of Getting a Shot
Very few people knew Adrian Lancaster was afraid of needles.
The moment he heard Wren Sutton say she was going to call a doctor to give him a shot, his entire body tensed up, a hint of panic clouding his already pale face.
"Wren, is all that really necessary? I can just sleep it off, drink lots of water, and take some fever reducers. I’ll be fine. I... I don’t need a shot."
Wren Sutton paid him no mind. Her mind was already made up; the shot was non-negotiable.
"If you don’t get a shot, your temperature won’t drop. A fever that high can fry your brain."
She paused, looking at the man on the bed, and asked him seriously, "Adrian Lancaster, do you want to become an idiot?"
Adrian Lancaster shook his head like a rattle. "Of course not!"
’If I become an idiot, Wren will want me even less. Owen and Nina won’t like me anymore either.’
"Then you have to get the shot if you don’t want to become an idiot," Wren laid it out plainly. It wasn’t a threat.
"102.9 degrees is no joke. I know you’re afraid of needles, but you’ll just have to bear with it. It’ll be over quickly."
"A little bit of pain is nothing compared to your health."
Adrian wilted. His eyelashes lowered, hiding the fleeting panic and helplessness in his eyes.
He gave off the air of someone who was utterly repulsed by the idea, yet didn’t dare defy his wife, looking thoroughly aggrieved.
He was like a large dog held by the scruff of its neck, wanting to struggle but unable to bring himself to do it.
’He desperately wanted to argue, to play difficult, to find a hundred excuses to get out of it.’ But the moment he met the undisguised concern and seriousness in Wren’s eyes, the words on the tip of his tongue softened into compromise.
"...Wren, I’m not afraid of needles."
Wren hummed in satisfaction. "Good. You just rest quietly. Don’t talk. I’m going to call Dr. Foster."
"..." Adrian Lancaster opened his mouth but said nothing.
’What’s said is said. To admit he was scared now would be humiliating.’
’He didn’t want to look like a coward in front of his wife.’
’Fine, a shot it is. It’s not like anyone’s ever died from the pain of getting one.’
Wren looked away, picked up her phone, and quickly found their family doctor’s number in her contacts. She tapped the screen, and the call went through.
"Dr. Foster, hello. Adrian Lancaster has a high fever of 102.9. Fever reducers and cooling patches aren’t working. Could you please come over and give him a shot? The sooner, the better."
Dr. Foster didn’t dare to delay. "Of course, Young Madam. I’m on my way."
After hanging up, Wren didn’t even think about resting. She turned and went into the bathroom.
She soon returned to the bedside with a basin of warm water. Steam billowed from it, forming a faint white mist in the cool air.
"Wren, what are you...?" Adrian had already guessed, of course.
"I’m going to try to bring your temperature down before the doctor gets here. A sponge bath with warm water will help dissipate the heat."
As she spoke, Wren rolled up her sleeves and dropped a fresh, clean towel into the water.
Adrian felt a pang of concern for her. "That’s too much work for you. Let the staff do it."
"One is in the nursery with the children, and the other is in the kitchen cooking. They can’t look after you. Right now, I’m the only one who’s free."
Wren didn’t look up, her focus entirely on wringing out the towel. Her slender, beautiful fingertips, moistened by the warm steam, had taken on a soft pink hue.
Once it was wrung out, she didn’t hesitate. She lifted the blanket and his shirt, and began to wipe down his arm.
The moment the towel touched his skin, Adrian’s entire body went rigid, and a fine layer of goosebumps immediately broke out across his skin.
The warm water from the towel glided across his skin. It was meant to cool him down, but the touch of Wren’s warm fingertips sent a jolt through his heart.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he discreetly suppressed a strange, rising heat.
Save for his most private areas, Adrian’s entire body was practically exposed to Wren.
Broad shoulders and a narrow waist. Firm, smooth pectoral muscles and abs. Long, powerful thighs.
The physique usually hidden beneath bespoke suits was now on full display—rugged, sexy, and a feast for the eyes. It made one want to reach out and touch.
But Wren’s mind was as calm as still water, without a single ripple of distraction, let alone any fanciful thoughts. She was focused solely on bringing Adrian’s fever down.
Her movements were light as she wiped him down, carefully avoiding any sensitive spots and focusing on the larger surfaces of his skin.
The towel slid over Adrian’s abs, then moved slowly down to his thigh.
The warm touch drew the feverish heat from his skin, and with it, the last of his strength to put on a brave face.
"Wren, I’m cold..." Adrian’s voice was strained.
’In truth, he was ticklish. But even more, he was afraid this intimate contact would make him lose control, to completely lose his composure.’
Wren glanced up at him. "Almost done."
She leaned closer, continuing to wipe him down with the towel.
Her breath, carrying the clean, damp scent of the warm water, ghosted across the side of Adrian’s neck, warm and soft.
Adrian couldn’t help but shudder. The warmth seemed to seep into his very bones, making his already groggy head feel even dizzier.
He tilted his head back, and his gaze met Wren’s earnest expression.
Her eyes were downcast, her long lashes casting soft shadows on her cheeks.
Her nose was delicate, her lips pursed in concentration. She was completely absorbed in tending to him, without a single ulterior thought.
The more open and unconcerned she was, the more uncontrollably Adrian’s heart hammered in his chest.
The THUMP-THUMP-THUMP of his heart drowned out the grogginess and headache from the fever.
He subconsciously held his breath. His gaze fell to the crown of Wren’s head, flickered over the faint blush on the tips of her ears, and finally settled on the slender, fair hand holding the towel.
’My wife is so beautiful. Every part of her is beautiful. Not even a goddess from the heavens could compare to her.’
Adrian’s body, once tense with the fear of the impending shot, gradually relaxed. A tingling warmth replaced the tension, spreading from where her hands touched him all the way to his core.
After a moment of silence, he quietly raised his hand. His movements were so light he seemed afraid of startling her. With slightly curled fingers, he gingerly brushed his fingertips against the wrist she had resting at her side.
It was just a light touch before he quickly pulled his hand back, like a child who had just snuck a piece of candy, his eyes filled with a delight he couldn’t hide.
Wren felt it. Her hand stilled, and she lifted her gaze to meet Adrian’s. Her expression was like a teacher’s. "What is it? Still cold?"
"No." Adrian shook his head, his voice soft and hoarse. "Thank you, Wren. You’re working so hard."
He paused, a faint smile blooming in his eyes, tinged with a sick person’s languor and affection.
"I suppose this is a blessing in disguise."
They were quite close, and his warm breath brushed against her cheek, carrying the burning heat of his fever.
Wren’s cheeks flushed. Her heart inexplicably skipped a beat, and even the tips of her ears quietly reddened.
She instinctively turned her head, avoiding his direct, scorching gaze. The movements of her hands grew even lighter.
"Behave yourself. Dr. Foster will be here soon."
Warm light fell upon them both. The room was quiet, filled only with the faint sound of the towel against skin and the rhythm of their slowly syncing heartbeats.
There was no deliberate flirtation, no excessive drama, just an undeniable tenderness that was as light as the wind and sweet to the core.
Having wiped him down everywhere she needed to, Wren set the towel aside and pulled the blanket back over Adrian.
Her warm fingertips accidentally brushed against the burning line of his shoulder. It felt like the light sweep of a feather, and Adrian shuddered again, the emotion in his eyes so thick it threatened to spill over.
He looked at her, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Mrs. Lancaster, you don’t even realize what a flirt you are."