And Then He: A Rogue Mountain Billionaire Novel

by Kateri Collins

  “Jeb?” I try to sit up, but the effort’s too much. My chest feels tight and immovable. I flop back on the pillows. It’s no longer as painful to breathe but I can only take shallow breaths. “Jeb? Is that you?”

  He gently squeezes my hand and I feel the side of the bed shift. “It’s me, Tiffani. Go back to sleep. I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” he whispers.

  My tongue catches on the top of my mouth. “Wh…, Where am I?”

  “You’re in the hospital, but you’re okay. Go back to sleep. You need to rest.”

  Sleep sounds like a good idea. I’m too tired to argue anyway. But a name keeps rising to the surface. A lone name in the desert of my brain. “Drew? Can you call Drew?”

  His grip tightens. “I don’t have his number and you don’t have a phone on you.”

  I pinch my eyes shut, but no tears fall down my cheeks. I’m probably too dehydrated for tears. “What happened to me?” I whisper.

  “You were running on the gorge trail and must have tripped. I found you and carried you to the hospital.”

  I try to open my eyes, but the effort is too difficult. “I don’t even remember.”

  “You blacked out as soon as you saw me. Lucky for you, I was taking a late evening run.”

  A flash of a downed tree. Then another. And another. But then they’re gone. “I don’t feel lucky.”

  “No,” he says, his voice thick with emotion, “there is nothing lucky about what happened to you.” He clears his throat, “Tiffani in the future, would you mind falling closer to the beginning of the trail? I had to carry you about five miles.”

  My lips crack a small smile but it hurts too much. I moan instead. In the quiet that follows, I remember something so important, I can’t believe I forgot.

  “Fischer?” I open my eyes and try to sit up. “Where’s Fischer?”

  Jeb puts his hands on my shoulders and gently pushes me back against the pillow. “Fischer’s dead Tiffani.”

  A machine beeps in the background. I wince at the obnoxious sound. I try to remember if Fischer came with me or not, but I’m confused; he always comes with me. “No,” I exhale as I lean against the pillow. “He came with me.”

  “I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep,” he whispers.

  Exhaustion pulls me under, and I no longer have the strength to fight it.

  “I’ve got you, Tiffani. I’ve got you,” he coos. The last thing I remember is his hand tracing the side of my face.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The squeech squooch of rubber shoes against linoleum wakes me. I open my eyes in time to catch movement on my left side. I tilt my head to watch the nurse checking the hospital equipment in my room.

  She squeezes a vial of something into the tube port attached to my left wrist. “Good morning, Tiffani. How are you feeling today?”

  “Better, I think. What time is it?” I ask as I try to scoot myself up. A shooting pain rips through my chest. I fall back against the pillow.

  “Careful,” she says, “or you’re liable to re-break something. You need to take it easy for several weeks for your ribs to heal.”

  With careful fingers, I feel the thick layers of cloth wrapped around my midsection. “I broke my ribs?”

  She gestures to my leg suspended in the air. “And your right leg and foot.”

  “Oh no,” I moan. “Why don’t I feel it?”

  “Because I just loaded you with another round of pain medication. Don’t worry, tomorrow we start weaning you off. You’ll definitely feel pain then,” she says with a coy smile.

  I want to punch her, but then I don’t because I like the way her hair looks, and her earrings are pretty too.

  “You’ll have your fiancé to distract you,” she says. She tilts her head at the chair in the corner.

  I follow her gaze. Golden brown hair tied back in a ponytail, amber eyes, luscious lips.

  “Jeb?” I giggle, scrunching my nose. “Is that you?”

  He stands up and stretches. His shirt lifts up just enough for me to see his very delicious man line. “Hmmm,” I moan, “Hi there, Sexy.”

  He stops mid-stretch and turns to the nurse. “Is she okay?”

  The nurse chuckles. “I think the morphine just kicked in.”

  He lifts the plastic lid from the tray on my bed table. “Hungry for some pancakes and syrup?”

  “Only if you feed me.”

  He raises an eyebrow. I giggle enjoying this flirting game, especially with McSteamy. He sits down on the edge of the bed next to me. He cuts the pancake with the fork into a bite sized piece and then offers it to me with a sly grin.

  The fork hovers in midair just inches above my mouth. “Did you remember the syrup?” I purr.

  The fork retreats back to the plate. Jeb grabs a container. He slowly pulls off the wrapper.

  “I know a couple places you can pour that sweet sauce.”

  He stops and turns to me. I bite my lip in anticipation, as I moan again.

  “I wish it could always be this easy,” he murmurs. He dips the fork in the syrup and brings it over to me. A droplet of it falls on my chin. I wrap my lips shamelessly around the fork. After I swallow, I offer my chin to him. “Can you think of any way to clean me off?”

  His eyes cloud over. Want and desire appear. He bends down. I close my eyes in anticipation, and then he…

  Chapter Forty

  I feel the slight tug of a ring getting stuck on a knuckle, and then the calloused fingers of someone twisting and pulling. “Some promises are meant to be broken,” a voice whispers in my ear. I shiver as I shrug my ear into my shoulder and try to go back to sleep. I pull the scratchy blanket closer to me, but I can’t seem to get comfortable.

  “Good morning.”

  My heart skips a beat. The voice triggers memories of a dozen ‘almosts.’

  The foot of my bed shifts. I wake up to the warm glow of Jeb.

  “What time did you get here this morning?” I ask.

  Red manicured fingernails start poking and pressing around my chest. Lightning tears through my body from the inside out. I clamp my eyes shut and grit my teeth until the pain passes. “Come in? He has barely left your side for the four days you’ve been here,” the nurse says.

  I glance over at him, feeling awkward and shy. He’s saved me more times than I can remember. His presence reassures me that everything will be okay. “Thank you.”

  His lips pull to the side. His face shines brighter if that’s possible. “You’re welcome.”

  I turn back to the prodding nurse. “Why can’t I remember how long I’ve been here?”

  “You’ve been unconscious most of the time and on a lot of pain medication. You were quite cheerful yesterday…,” she grins and winks at Jeb.

  He raises his hand to his mouth and covers the beginning of a smile. He clears his throat and glances out the window.

  The room suddenly feels hot and cramped. Beads of sweat form at the base of my neck. I want to hide under my blankets. Hell, I want to run out of the room. I can’t even begin to imagine the humiliating crimes I committed while under pain medication. Jenn, a Diner regular and O.R. nurse at this very hospital, told me about a patient who called her boyfriend’s penis, Anaconda. Anaconda belonged to a married O.R. doctor. The patient, an O.R. nurse no less, described in vivid detail all the things she liked to do with her Anaconda. Jenn threatened everyone in the operating room with pain and suffering if anyone so much as uttered one word about what happened. I wish she was here to protect me.

  “Oh god,” I moan. “What did I do?”

  He narrows his eyes at the laughing nurse. Her raised lips wilt under his blazing glare. She clears her throat and gets back to work. She pokes and prods and presses at my chest with what I can only assume is unnecessary force. I wonder if her blood red daggers were the very ones that wrapped around Anaconda’s neck.

  He reaches over and gently squeezes my foot. “Tiffani, you did nothing wrong. You have been the perfect patient.”

>   I let out a sharp exhale that comes out much louder than I intended, sounding more like a gasp of ecstasy, than a sigh of relief. My god, is there no end to my embarrassment? Since moving is out of the question, I close my eyes to hide.

  Red dagger takes her time applying ointment to the wounds on my ‘good’ leg. Her nails dig and jab the healthy skin around each gash. I wince, withstanding the ordeal as best I can. When she rewraps the bandages as if I’m a zombie from “The Walking Dead,” white lights dance across my vision. I take a shallow breath and count to five. “Excuse me, m’am, when can I go home?”

  She puts her tools of torture back in a little carrier. She will take her sweet time answering me. My punishment is not over, of that I have no doubt. The quiet beep beep beep of the machines fall somewhere between the sinister and the ominous. Then she flashes a Cruella de Ville smile. “Probably tomorrow. There’s not much left we can do for you here. You just need rest. No work for the next few weeks.”

  “No work?” I fight to sit up, but my tight bandages and shooting chest pain win this round. I crash back against the pillow, panting in and out. When I finally catch my breath, I continue, “But, but I have to work, I have bills to pay, and my boss, he won’t let me live above the Diner if I don’t work, I…, I…,”

  She raises her free hand. “Dear, you need to calm down. You’ll have to work something out. You also can’t do steps for a while.”

  She enjoys my misery, I know it. Her cute boo-boo bandaid pink scrubs cover a pair of singed black wings. This angel of death plots ways to draw out her patient’s pain and suffering. “But I live on the second floor. I need to at least climb the stairs to my apartment.”

  “I’m sure there’s a friend or someone you can stay with.”

  “You’ll stay with me,” Jeb says.

  I raise an eyebrow at him. He shrugs. “It’ll be fun.”

  Fun is exactly what I’m worried about. There’s something that bothers me about Jeb too. A distant memory I can’t quite recall. “You’ve done enough already.”

  He flashes a smile that makes me remember that under the cuts and scratches, and all the bandages and bruises, I am a woman. “I insist.”

  My head nods on its own, a reflex brought on by my inability to resist Jeb in any way, but the insistent nudging from Tiffani Beth, whispering ‘Drew, don’t forget Drew,’ can’t be ignored either. “I need to talk to Drew first. He has no idea that I’m hurt. He has no idea Fischer’s dead.” I blink to hold back tears. “He’d want to know.”

  His shoulders stiffen. The lines on his forehead pinch together. The temperature in the room drops. I tremble. Fear is there, just below the surface.

  A crazy metallic sound buzzes on the windowsill. He gets up from the bed and gets his phone. His lips turn into a grim line. “I have to get this. If you’ll excuse me,” he says and steps out of the room.

  I release a loud exhale I didn’t realize I was holding.

  “Everything alright?” Red Dagger asks.

  There’s irony that this purveyor of pain becomes my sole confidant. “Jeb scares me sometimes.”

  She clucks her tongue. “Dear, he hasn’t left your side since you’ve been here.” She raps her pen against the clipboard. “He barely sleeps. I don’t think he even eats. He’s been nothing but caring and attentive. There’s nothing scary about him.”

  “I don’t know,” I whisper. “He confuses me.”

  She squeezes a syringe into the IV port on my wrist. “That’s the medication talking. You’ve got nothing to be afraid of.”

  “He’s really moody.”

  She picks up her carrier and turns to me. “Most patients don’t get a single visitor during their entire stay. You have one who won’t leave your side. Count your blessings because a good man is hard to find,” she says. “Accept his offer to stay with him. It doesn’t appear you have another choice anyway.”

  The hard lines of her face grow soft and round. Fuzzy even. I no longer feel like arguing. Besides, Red Dagger is right. I am alone. I need Jeb.

  Chapter Forty-One

  I’m vaguely aware of people speaking close by. I peek through hooded lids. Jeb and Dr. O’Neil stand next to each other at the foot of my bed.

  “She’ll need to keep her leg elevated for a few weeks to keep the swelling down. Ice, pain killer, and rest. After three weeks, I’ll take a look at her in my downtown office. She won’t be able to climb stairs for some time, so you’ll have to assist her, and please, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

  Jeb reaches to shake her hand. “I appreciate all your help Doctor.” As they shake, he says, “She’s had a tremendous amount of emotional distress the past few days. Is there anything you can prescribe to keep her calm or is there anything I should watch out for?”

  Dr. O’Neil pulls her clipboard to her chest. “The human body has built in protective features in cases of excessive outside stimulation. In other words, she’ll probably sleep the next few days and when she’s rested enough, both mentally and physically, she’ll stay awake for longer periods of time. Eventually, she’ll return to her normal sleep patterns.”

  “Thank you Doctor,” he says. Dr. O’Neil nods as she leaves. Jeb puts his hands in his pockets. He shifts back and forth between his right and left foot. “I don’t know,” he murmurs. “I don’t know.”

  What doesn’t he know? Why’s he so worried? I close my eyes before he catches me awake. I don’t think he’d like me watching him in his current frame of mind.

  The side of the bed shifts. I feel his fingers butterfly kiss the side of my face. I move just a little, and his fingers disappear. I open my eyes to his amber ones. “Hey,” I whisper.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I could be worse,” I shrug.

  He pulls away from me. His forehead scrunches up. “Worse? How?”

  “I could be dead.”

  “Don’t say that Tiffani. Don’t EVER say that.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Jeb reaches over and clicks my seatbelt. I catch a whiff of his woodsy man scent that reminds me of my favorite running trail. The very trail that brought me to hurt and pain and misery. “Gotta keep you safe and sound,” he says before he ducks out of the passenger side door.

  Happiness rolls off him and fills the confines of the jeep. As if staying with him actually does him a huge favor. As if staying with him doesn’t cross a line there’s no turning back from. A line I’m not sure I want to cross. “Jeb, are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

  He puts the key in the ignition, and the monster jeep roars to life. “Impose? I can’t wait. I finished one of the spare rooms a week ago. You’ll be my first guest.”

  “I don’t want to be a burden—all the meals, picking up prescriptions, helping me in and out of bed…” I don’t even want to think about let alone mention the whole showering and bathroom thing or the laundry.

  “Are you kidding, I can’t wait to get you into bed,” he says. I add heart attack to my growing list of ailments. “Tiffani, you have no need to worry. I will be the perfect gentleman. I’ve made preparations to protect your dignity.”

  I try to protest, but he raises his hand. “It was no trouble at all. I wanted to do it.”

  “Are you sure?” I whisper.

  “Tiffani, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

  I want to ask him why, why is he so sure, when a million worries and a thousand fears plague me. I was so sure of Drew’s love and Cassie’s friendship, and then everything went to shit. “Where do you live anyway?”

  He winks at me. A sly grin crosses his lips. “About ten minutes from town, out in the boondocks. I bought an old Victorian located in the middle of fifty acres. It’s nice and quiet—the perfect place for you to rest.”

  Rest. All I’ve done for days is rest. I’ve spent my entire life working odd jobs to make ends meet only to be sidelined by my own clumsiness. Walter probably hired a new waitress. Jeb said Walter promised to let me ke
ep the apartment for a few months, provided I go back to work at the Diner as soon as I’m able, but I can’t think about my future and what it will entail—at least not yet. For now, I need to live day by day—and there’s some basic things I need to survive. “Would you mind stopping by my apartment?”

  His fingers tighten around the steering wheel. “What for?”

  “I need to pick up a few things.”

  “Consider it done. I packed up your stuff yesterday after I checked the shop. Everything you’ll need is in your room at my house.”

  The color drains from my cheeks. If he went through my drawers, he certainly didn’t miss the sex toys Cassie and I bought one drunk night our junior year. Or the lingerie. Damn Cassie and her girl’s nights.

  “Did you happen to find my phone?”

  “I looked everywhere for it, but no luck. I’ll pick you up a new one. You had one of those dinosaurs anyway.”

  A few tears leak out before I can stop myself. I wipe my nose across my sleeve. “I just wanted to talk to Drew and let him know about my accident and about Fischer. I’m sure he’s tried to contact me.”

  He hits the gas and jerks the steering wheel to the left.

  “Ahhh-woooo,” I shriek as the seatbelt slams against my chest. Torture. My leg. My ribs. My arm. My body…tortured in the fiery pits of Hell. I collapse back into the seat, unable to catch my breath.

  “Sorry about that,” he says, although he doesn’t sound the least bit sorry. “I wanted to make the light. You were saying?”

  “Huh?” I moan. I can barely form one coherent thought let alone remember what we were talking about, and I’m so tired. So freaking tired.

  He reaches over and rubs my arm. “Go to sleep Tiffani, I got you.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  “Tiffani,” Jeb says quietly. He pumps my hand a few times. “We’re almost home. I want you to be awake when we come down the drive.”