by Kim Law
Nate’s look turned to one of incredulity. “Are you suggesting that I like sloppy seconds?”
“I did not sleep with her,” Jaden gritted out. They’d covered this multiple times already.
“Sure you didn’t. That’s what she claims, too.”
“Because that’s the truth.”
“Yet you fell down her steps at eight o’clock in the morning. Dressed in your tuxedo from the night before.”
“I got drunk. I couldn’t go to the house after Megan had broken up with me.”
“But you could have stayed at the hotel.”
The two of them stared at each other, their eyes locked in the rearview mirror, until Jaden finally nodded. “Yes.” He could have done that. He should have done that. And he didn’t know why he hadn’t.
Instead, he’d come back here and taken Arsula’s clothes off.
He remembered that now. He also remembered kissing her. He’d been the one to start it.
And he’d liked it.
The details remained sketchy concerning what she’d looked like once that red dress had been removed. As well as how far things had progressed before they’d . . . stopped. But had he been able to get it up . . .
He forced himself to look away. He wouldn’t have been able to forgive himself if that had happened. He wanted Megan. He was committed to Megan.
“What are you doing, Jaden?” Nate remained in the car, the door closed and his tone solemn. He still hadn’t turned around. “Do you intend to sleep with her now? Is that what’s going on?”
“No. I intend to get my girlfriend back.” He just had to figure out how. “I love Megan. You know that.”
“Yet you think staying with another woman while you recuperate will . . . what? Help win Megan back?”
They both looked at Arsula again, who now watched the two of them with an unwavering stare that Jaden innately understood to mean she was aware they were talking about her.
“There’s nothing between me and Arsula,” Jaden stated without taking his eyes off her. He didn’t understand why he was here any more than Nate did, but he was okay with his decision. He tried his best to explain. “I needed a place to stay. Someone to help me out until I can handle things on my own.”
And it wasn’t as if his girlfriend had shown up to do it.
Nate finally turned in his seat. “Seriously. That’s your reasoning? Then why not let me help?”
Jaden had never heard so much as a hint of need come from his brother before, and Nate would probably go to his grave denying it ever happened. Yet in that one question, need had been overflowing. “Like I told you at the hospital, I know your life isn’t here. You never stick around. And I won’t ask you to do that for me.”
“But I offered.”
“And yet aren’t you already jonesing to be back on a crab boat?”
Nate had left home after graduating high school, and he’d made Alaska his base. He was a crab fisherman in the winter, and who knew what he did the rest of the year. And until the last couple of years, he’d rarely returned home at all.
Jaden understood why. Just as he also understood why it was now easier for him to be there. Only one other brother knew the full story about what had really kept him away.
Recent changes in the family dynamics hadn’t changed Nate all that much, though.
“I was surprised to see that you’d made it in for the wedding,” Jaden continued, “but I know sticking around isn’t for you. You’ll feel the need to go soon, and that’s fine. I understand. And I don’t judge. But I won’t be the one who keeps you tied somewhere you don’t want to be.”
Nate wore an expression indicating he had more to say, but in the end, he shook his head, mumbled something about the absurdity of little brothers, and exited the car. He circled the hood, heading for the back passenger door, while Jaden quickly lifted his crutches from the floor. The second the door opened, he jabbed them out, rubber bottoms first, and clamped down on the pain as he maneuvered himself forward. He got to the edge of the seat, foot still straight out in front of him and still hurting like a mother, and thrust the vase of flowers he’d brought from the hospital toward Nate.
“Carry these, will you?”
“The flowers the woman with whom you didn’t sleep brought you?”
Jaden scowled. “And try to be nice when we get in there.”
“Nice is overrated.” Arsula’s voice came from behind Nate, and both brothers shifted so they could see her.
She hadn’t put on a jacket before coming out, and her teeth chattered as she took the vase out of Nate’s hands. Without a word, she turned and led the two of them into the much-warmer building. Once inside, Jaden could see Jenna and Haley waiting in the back room, and with sweat making a slow trek down the middle of his back, he forced himself to keep moving. Nate stayed close by, but as if in unspoken agreement, he didn’t physically offer to help.
Once they reached the room, Jaden stopped just inside the open french doors and literally hung on his crutches. He should have taken the advice of the discharge nurse and let Nate bring him home in a wheelchair.
He also should have taken his pain meds.
“Let me help you into the bed,” Arsula said, and Jaden didn’t have the energy to refuse.
With her help, he shrugged out of his coat, then together, she and Nate worked to get him situated on the small sheet-covered mattress. It was only after he was once again horizontal—his breaths coming out in pants and his right foot throbbing like a son of a bitch—that Jaden realized they’d put him in a hospital bed.
He lifted his head and took in the room.
“Where’d you get the bed?” he croaked out in exhaustion.
Arsula handed him a glass of water, and Nate passed over a couple of pills.
Jaden took them.
“I spoke with a friend before leaving the hospital,” she answered. “She made some calls and got the medical equipment place to deliver today.”
A small fridge served as a bedside table, a TV hung from a mount on the ceiling, and a dark-brown couch had been pushed against the wall, positioned underneath the TV.
“I figured I’d be on a couch.” He lowered his head back to the pillow.
“You need to get plenty of rest while also keeping your foot elevated.” Arsula arranged a blanket over his legs. “That’ll be easier done in a bed than on a couch.”
“And we brought you pillows from the house,” Jenna informed him. “They’re the ones with the feathers inside. Megan said they’re your favorite.”
Jenna and Haley stood at the side of the bed, both looking as hopeful as they did worried, and Jaden reached out a hand to them. He ignored the flare of hope that threatened to ignite at the mention of Megan caring enough to make sure he got the type of pillows he preferred. She still hadn’t returned any of his texts, nor had she stopped by the hospital before he’d left.
“Thank you for helping me,” he said to both girls. “The feather pillows are definitely my favorite.”
The girls smiled, and he squeezed each of their hands, but his energy was dropping fast.
“How about you two help me get Uncle Jaden’s things,” Nate said, and the three of them disappeared from the room. The bell on the front door tinkled as they went back outside, and Jaden watched as Arsula cringed at the noise.
“I’ll take the bell down,” she assured him. “I wouldn’t want it to wake you every time it rings.”
His sister had started and now ran a public relations firm that had both local and nationwide clients. It was wildly successful, but she’d originally begun the company out of the house. Most business was done via phone or on location with the paying customer. He couldn’t imagine the bell on the front door of her office would be ringing all that often.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Jaden assured her. Then he closed his eyes.
He woke a few minutes later to the sound of low voices coming from the front room. He couldn’t see them, but he heard Nate and Arsu
la talking.
“My number is on there in case of an emergency,” Nate was saying. “Along with Gabe’s, Nick’s, and the landline at the house.”
“And I already have Dani’s,” Arsula added. “Here’s mine.” There was silence for a moment, and then Arsula said, “I’ll let you know how he’s doing.”
Nate laughed without humor. “Don’t worry. I’ll be checking up on him.”
As they’d come to agreement at the hospital about where Jaden would stay, Nate had continued to insist he’d remain in Birch Bay. Therefore, he’d be the one to ferry Jaden to and from appointments.
Jaden hadn’t argued.
The rattle of pills could be heard, as well as Jenna and Haley laughing from a room farther away, and even without seeing the exchange, Jaden could sense the awkwardness between the two adults.
“Nate,” he called out, suddenly not ready for his brother to leave.
Nate poked his head into the room. He held up both hands as he stepped across the threshold, a suitcase hanging from each. “The girls and I grabbed your bag from the rental—which Nick and I returned to the airport, by the way—and we also packed some clothing that Gloria ran out and picked up for you.”
Jaden stared at the suitcases. “She didn’t have to do that.”
“She knows that.” He set everything down. “But you’re going to need more than a couple of changes of clothes, so take them and say thank you.”
“Thank you,” Jaden murmured. He could barely keep his eyes open, but at least the pain had started to fade.
He also had no idea what he’d just said thank you for.
“Nate?” he asked again. He had no clue if his brother was still there, given that he could no longer hold his eyes open. Or how much time had passed.
“Still here,” Nate assured him.
“Will you ask Megan to call me?”
There was a pause before he answered. “I’ll pass along the request.”
“Or can she at least text me?” Jaden pleaded.
“I’ll pass that along as well.”
His heart felt too heavy. “Is she even still at the house?”
“For now.”
He nodded. They’d told him she intended to leave. “Tell her to stay. There’s no reason for her to go. Dad and Gloria like having her there.”
Nate didn’t reply, or if he did, Jaden didn’t hear him.
“Nate?” Jaden called in a panic, managing to lift his head from the pillow. He forced his eyes to open and found Nate standing at his side. He could also see Arsula and the girls sitting behind the reception desk in the other room, their heads bent together.
He swung his gaze back to his brother’s.
“What?” Nate said.
“I know you don’t understand”—he looked at Arsula again—“this. And to tell you the truth, I don’t, either.” His words were slurring badly, but he pushed on. “But I didn’t want to be at the house. Not like this.”
It was bad enough to have to be dependent on anyone, but he certainly didn’t want to be sitting around the house he’d grown up in as if he were seven again, waiting for his mother to take care of him.
Nate gave a nod and finally didn’t look as angry as he had all day. “I’ll always understand the ghosts that exist in that house.”
Jaden fell back to the bed and caught his breath as if he’d been running instead of merely talking, and as he did, he watched Nate turn to take in Arsula himself. “And I may not understand it,” Nate said in agreement, “but I’m here to tell you that that one’s got more than one screw loose. However . . . I also can’t say that I’m immune to the draw of staying here.”
Jaden watched Arsula. Best he could tell, if she wasn’t throwing things at people, she was smiling. “It’s not like that,” he insisted.
“Right.” Nate patted him on the shoulder. “Then might I suggest that if you ever do want a chance at getting Megan back, you’d better make sure it doesn’t turn into that.”
Chapter Eight
Jaden opened his eyes later that night, his brain foggy, without a clue where he was. An antique floor lamp in the far corner of the room cast a small circle of light over scratched wood flooring and one end of a dark couch. Drapes were drawn over windows on the adjacent wall, a small chest of drawers sitting between the windows, and a set of glass-paneled doors were pulled almost closed on the wall opposite the chest. From the blue-tinted glow beyond the doors, he assumed a computer monitor must be on in the next room, but nothing else indicated there might be a person at the computer.
The kind of silence that permeated the room made him think it must be snowing outside, and sitting there all alone, he had a brief moment of panic.
“Hello?” he said into the void. Then his eyes landed on a small bell sitting atop a stack of books, all piled neatly on the mini fridge beside the bed.
Mini fridge.
A bed.
He took in a vase of flowers, a glass of water, a cupcake with a single candle protruding from it, the diamond engagement ring he’d attempted to give Megan, and two small prescription bottles sitting within reach. And suddenly, everything—except the cupcake—made sense.
He’d broken his ankle.
And he was in his sister’s office, being taken care of by a woman he’d almost slept with.
He stared at the ceiling. Damn. He’d made a mess of everything.
He needed to heal up, get Megan to take him back, and get the hell back to Seattle. But at the same time, he knew that at least two of those things were not going to be smooth sailing. He currently had all kinds of hardware holding his ankle together, and according to his surgeon, he was looking at months before a full recovery. The surgeon also claimed it would be six weeks before he could put any weight on it.
Grunting with the movement, he reached for the bell. He couldn’t stand to be trapped in a room all alone.
Holding the old-fashioned bell out to the side, he rang it as if his life depended on it. A noise sounded from above, but he didn’t stop ringing, and by the time Arsula rushed into his room, wide-eyed and panicked, he almost felt better.
“What’s wrong?” She flipped on the overhead light and quickly crossed to the bed. “What can I do?”
“I like this bell,” he told her, speaking above the still-clattering noise. He knew he was acting like a child by continuing the ringing, but he couldn’t seem to help it.
Confusion crossed her features as she caught the lip of the noisemaker, and she jammed three fingers inside the opening to silence the noise. Once the clanging stopped, she lowered his hand to the bed. “What do you need me to do?”
He tugged to free the bell. “I need you to give me back my bell.”
“Jaden.” She snapped out his name, and he finally quit pulling against her.
“What?” he snapped back just as abruptly.
“What’s wrong?” she asked again. She returned the bell to the stack of books and moved as if intending to take a look at his ankle.
“Stop.” He pulled back, even though she had yet to lift the cover. “I’m fine. I just woke up and didn’t know where I was.” Which was only partially true. He didn’t want to admit, though, that he’d woken up and just felt like throwing a tantrum. Grown men didn’t throw tantrums.
And he wasn’t even sure why he was.
Thankfully, she left his foot alone, and when she didn’t immediately exit the room, he admitted to himself that he’d rung the bell because he’d wanted her in there with him.
He took in her dark hair, random strands making a soft fluff around her face, while the remainder of it fell halfway down her back. She was also barefaced and in pajamas. Red-and-green plaid bottoms, and a red cotton shirt. He looked down at his similar attire. He’d left the hospital in blue-and-green plaid with a long-sleeve navy T-shirt.
“How long have I been asleep?” he asked, and she glanced at the wall behind his head.
“Ten hours.”
His eyes bulged. “Are you kidding
me?”
“I am not.” She moved back up to stand at his side and tilted her head as she looked down. Concern colored her eyes, and he remembered thinking how pretty a brown they were when he’d first met her.
“How’s the pain?” she asked.
“I’m not currently covered in sweat.”
“Good to hear.” She glanced at the clock again. “I’ve come down twice and given you more painkillers, but it’s not quite time for you to take another if you can hold out. Nate said you should take them regularly the first few days, though, since pretty much all you can do is sit here and hurt.”
She pursed her lips in sympathy, then waved a remote in the air.
“You can also watch TV.”
“Or read, apparently.”
Her eyes flicked to the stack of books. “I didn’t know what you might like, so I brought down a selection.”
“I doubt I’ll feel like reading.” He was still in the mood to act like a juvenile, so he didn’t bother perusing the titles. Nor did he take the remote. He just lay there.
But he did wonder why a cupcake now sat beside his bed.
“Can I get you some food?” She placed the remote beside the bell. “And a trip to the bathroom, perhaps?”
He frowned at the thought. He had to pee like a racehorse, but he had no idea how that was supposed to happen. Nor had he thought that through when he’d begged her to take care of him. At some point he’d need a shower as well.
Christ. How was he going to handle a shower when he could barely stand on one foot?
She seemed to understand his current need without him having to say it, and since he was at her mercy, he allowed himself to be coerced from the bed. With crutches in place and his leg bent behind him, he hobbled out a side door and into a small hallway.
“This building was originally a house,” she shared as she pushed open a dark paneled door. “It had already been converted before your sister bought it, but whoever did the renovations left this restroom equipped with a walk-in shower instead of just making it a powder room.”