“Please try and stay calm, sir,” a harried-looking paramedic said while running through Andy’s vitals. Jesus. Andy, lying on the floor and as pale as a Cloroxed sheet and EpiPen on the floor beside him. “He’s going to be just fine.”
“How the fuck can you say that?” Ian countered, his own face just as red as Andy’s was white. Katie put a hand on his arm, surely meant to console, and he shrugged her off angrily. If she tried to touch him again, he would turn on her without a second thought. All of a sudden, he didn’t want her there. He didn’t want any of them there, not even the damned paramedics. And forget the other parents, gawking at him like they’d all landed in a reality television show. It wasn’t a show, it was his kid, being carted off in an ambulance just like she had been; just like Lonnie.
“Sir, if you’d like to ride in the ambulance with us, you’re more than welcome, but we’re going now. Either come along or don’t but if you get in that van, you’re going to have to stay calm. For your son.”
Knowing they were right, Ian nodded and forced back the screams that wanted to emerge. He followed the stretcher out of the room, resisting the urge to take it out of the paramedics’ hands and maneuver on his own. He didn’t look back, didn’t want to see the expressions of pity on the gawkers’ faces. He didn’t look at Katie, either. If he’d let himself do that he might lose his shit completely.
* * *
“What is this?” Ian asked coldly, looking from one person to another in his son’s crowded hospital room, “What are all of you guys doing in here? Doesn’t the hospital have rules about this kind of thing?”
Ian hated hospitals, hated everything about them—but he never hated them more than when they held his kid, afraid and feeling like shit. There was nothing Ian could do about it, either, which made him want to put his fist through the nearest wall. The feeling had been beating against the walls of his chest as he made his way to the cafeteria to get a cup of shitty coffee, and it grew even worse by the time he got back to the room. The last thing he was expecting was to find his boy’s bed surrounded by a group of people. It was also the last thing he wanted to see.
“Hey, Ian,” Katie said carefully, glancing at the others and then training her eyes on him. Her face was still and perfectly composed, but instead of calming Ian down it only pissed him off further. He felt like he was being managed. He was a grown man, not one of her pet projects, and he didn’t need her treating him as such.
“Hey, man,” Andy’s Scoutmaster said quickly, his voice too loud in the way that only really nervous men ever managed, “how are you holding up?”
For a second, Ian only looked at him. Generally, he liked the guy, but only the worst kind of stupid made someone ask that question of someone whose kid was in the hospital. Sitting beside him were several women Ian only vaguely recognized as mothers of the Scout troop, and each looked equally at a loss for what to say. Ian could only shake his head in disbelief.
“Ian, he’s doing so much better,” Katie started, her eyes wide and pleading, “he really, really is. He’s still a little scared, but that’s to be expected, right? I really think—”
“I think everyone needs to go,” Ian cut her off, his voice dull, his words halting and abrupt. Katie’s eyes went wider still, and the mothers glanced at each other, shocked. Andy’s Scoutmaster shifted in his chair uncomfortably.
“What?” Katie stammered, grabbing Andy’s hand reflexively. Andy was asleep for the moment, exhausted by his ordeal, but even so, he shifted towards her and held onto her hand tight. It was a sweet sight to look at, and almost enough to change Ian’s mood. Almost, but not quite.
“I’d like everyone to go, Katie,” Ian repeated, “I think that’s what’s best for Andy. I can contact you guys if you’d like, once I know that he’s really doing okay. For right now, though, I’d like it just to be me and him. Nothing else to stress the little guy out.”
The group was silent, and Ian knew this was one of those things people would be talking about behind his back. He didn’t give a shit about people’s opinions at large. What was getting under his skin was Katie. He couldn’t avoid looking at her forever. When he finally broke down and looked her in the face, the hurt there was unmistakable. For a second, she kept holding onto Andy’s hand like she was daring Ian to pry their fingers apart. After the moms and Andy’s Scoutmaster got up and started filing out, though, she shook her head and stood. She was still in her yoga outfit, and Ian felt a pang of regret, thinking back to the class that felt like it had happened in a different life. She moved towards him, so close that he could smell the sweet, floral notes of the perfume that he already knew would always remind him of her. She opened her mouth, laying one trembling hand on his bicep once again. Once again, he shook her off.
“Just go, Katie, okay? I can’t deal with any distractions right now. Not when my boy is laying here like this.”
She nodded, once and with finality, and hurried towards the door. Ian waited until he heard the click of its closing and sunk into the chair beside Andy’s bed, trying to pretend he hadn’t seen the tears in Katie’s eyes as she left.
14
“Are you sure, Katie? Sure this’ll be okay?” Andy asked carefully. His voice was full of fear, and it was enough to make Katie’s heart ache. Not that she could blame him. It was only yesterday that he’d been laid up in a hospital bed because of whatever thoughtless person had added peanuts or eggs to his food. She understood that he must be afraid of handling food so soon afterward, but that only made it all the more important for him to do it. It was the same thing as falling off a horse. When it happened, it was terrifying, but unless you wanted to develop a real phobia, you had to get back up and try the thing again.
“I’m sure, sweet boy,” she said kindly, stroking his damp hair off of his forehead. “Do you think I would ever let something hurt you? Because, spoiler alert, I wouldn’t and I won’t.” Walking over to the fridge, she grabbed his emergency plan and brought it over to him. “See, we have a plan in place in case something does happen but it won’t, because we’re smart about our ingredients, aren’t we?”
“Kay,” he answered simply, taking another massive dollop of cookie batter and spooning it into his mouth. That was a good sign. The best kind of sign, really. He still trusted her, and that meant that all of the progress she had made with him hadn’t been undone. That was one Grant man taken care of. Now, to see about the second one, who she had a sneaking suspicion might be more difficult to handle.
Even thinking about Ian filled her with frustration mingled with anger. She kept going back to how he had brushed her off so roughly when she had only wanted to comfort and help him. He’d done it to everyone else, too, and for some reason, that was worse. It seemed like he was starting to come out of his shut-off existence and that had made Katie’s heart swell with hope. Now she knew, though, that when things got really hard, his instinct was still to shut down and shut off. There were so many people willing to help him, so many people who cared for him despite his stupid, stubborn stoicism. If he could only see it and stop throwing away the life vests being extended to him every chance he got. It was almost like he didn’t want things in his life to get easier, and it made her want to smack some sense into him before it was too late. She sighed, tucked her hair behind her ears, and put a smile on her face.
“Hey, buddy, do you think you can put these on the tray like I showed you? But don’t touch the oven. Otherwise—”
“No more cooking things,” Andy finished matter-of-factly, “I know. I won’t.”
“Good,” Katie said with a smile, “you have an excellent memory. I’m going to go find your dad for a minute. Is that okay?”
“Sure,” Andy answered again, his mind already set to the important task of cookie shaping. Katie didn’t really need to find Ian; she already knew where he was. She’d just heard the shower shut off upstairs. Despite her persistent annoyance at him, she couldn’t stop the surge of heat that flared up low in her belly at memories
of her and Ian in the shower together. She moved quickly up the stairs, hoping to catch a peek of something interesting. Unfortunately, he was already in his boxers.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey,” he answered back, only giving her a glance. He was still closed off and bordering on angry. It was like he blamed her for what had happened to Andy. She had to take a deep breath to keep herself from saying something she would regret. Things were more complicated after their relationship turned sexual, but the end objective was still the same. She wanted to help Ian and Andy get better. She wanted to see that they were good and settled before it was time for her to move on.
“Look, Ian,” she started in, favoring a headlong plunge, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh yeah? About what?”
“I think you need more help.”
“I’ve got help, Katie. I’ve got you, and that’s plenty, believe me,” he smiled, a little devilishly, she thought. Her stomach jumped pleasantly, the tone of his voice bringing her back again to their naughty interlude out under the Texas sun. It was maddening, the way he could get under her skin. It drove her completely crazy that she was thinking about what he was like in bed when she was still so unhappy about the way things had gone in the hospital. Part of her was waiting for him to offer an apology for the way he had treated her there, but a bigger part of her knew that wasn’t ever going to happen. Ian was the kind of man who was who he was, and that meant anyone in his life had to be willing to take the good right along with the bad.
“Sure,” she answered, carefully sidestepping his suggestive grin, “but I don’t mean my kind of help. I mean people who understand the kinds of parenting struggles you’re dealing with. Like joining one of those parenting meeting things, you know?”
“No,” he answered with what sounded very much to Katie like disdain, “I don’t.”
“Sure, you do,” Katie insisted. “I saw a flier for one when we were at the Y, and I think you should check it out.”
“Jesus,” he sighed, sliding into a pair of jeans that made his hips look delicious, “that’s about the last thing I want to do. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, I can see that, but you need to prepare.”
“Prepare for what?” He laughed. “The apocalypse? I wasn’t going to tell you this, but I’ve got a whole warehouse of shit to use if and when the zombie wave hits. Don’t pass it around or we’ll have every joker in the county turning up for a handout.”
“No, Ian,” Katie persisted, even as she smiled at the rare display of playfulness, “not the apocalypse. You need to prepare for when I’m gone.”
She hadn’t meant it to come out quite so harshly. She winced at the stark sound of the words, and at the resurrected tension in Ian’s expression. If he’d had an actual door planted in the middle of his face, it couldn’t have been more obvious that it was swinging shut. Still, it was going to have to be said one of these days. They both knew she wouldn’t be staying at the Grant Ranch forever. Even if that was what she wanted, Ian hadn’t given any indication that he wanted to keep her around. He’d said nothing at all to prepare her for how disappointed in her he looked now.
“Well,” he said finally, his jaw clenching and unclenching, “if that’s what’s bothering you, don’t let it. I’ve got it covered.”
“Do you?” she asked, shocked and a little hurt at how casual his response was, “Um, well, that’s good. What exactly do you mean?”
“I’m a member of a handful of parenting groups online. I don’t like to advertise it, but I know there’s things I need to learn. There’s nothing I’ll get by going to one of your damn meetings in person that I can’t get on those forums. So, see? Covered.”
“Maybe covered,” Katie corrected, wrinkling her nose in distaste. Despite the tensions she’d created, Ian grinned at her and although it didn’t resolve anything, it was still a huge relief. Maybe he wasn’t completely pissed at her after all.
“Doesn’t sound like you have a lot of faith in me. So how about we make a bet?” Ian stepped a little closer to her.
“A bet?” she asked, skeptical and intrigued, “What kind of bet? I wasn’t aware that you were a betting man.”
“Sugar, there’s still plenty you don’t know about me. I’m talking about an easy bet with easy terms.”
“I’m listening,” she said, trying not to let herself get distracted by his arms sliding around her slim waist. It was hard to keep her concentration with him as close as he was. She could feel his pulse beating as slow and steady as her own was wild. She could feel something else, too, growing stiff against her hip. It would have been so easy to say to hell with it and slide her hand down the fly of his jeans and see first-hand how Ian Grant handled makeup sex. Instead, she put both of her palms on his chest and pushed back to create some much-needed physical space between the two of them.
“Here it is. If I can prove that I’m good without any more help, you and me get down and dirty.”
“I think we’ve already done that,” she answered, her body going hot and tingly all over. This was starting to sound like the kind of bet she would like to lose.
“That’s right, but if I win, I get to do whatever I want to you in bed. Think blindfolds and maybe a pair of handcuffs thrown in for good measure.”
“Okay,” she swallowed hard, “and if I win?”
“I’ll go to your damned meeting,” he answered, more than a little grudgingly. Katie stuck out her hand, and the two of them shook before Katie marched straight over to the laptop tossed casually on the bed. Ian rolled his eyes, but he followed her willingly enough, logging into one of the aforementioned forums and sitting back while she started to scroll. After a couple of minutes, she sat up, sat back, and looked at Ian with one perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised.
“Well?” he asked. “What’s the verdict?”
“The verdict is that you’re half out of the doghouse.”
“I’m sorry,” he grinned, “but I don’t know what the hell that means.”
“It means that you are in fact a member of these groups, and that’s a good thing, but your participation totally sucks. You, my friend, are what I like to call a lurker. You just hang out in the background, hoping to pick everything up through osmosis. That doesn’t replace talking to real people, sharing your problems, getting feedback and advice—and doing it in person.”
“Shit,” he groaned, falling back onto the bed and looking up at the ceiling, “so I guess I lost, then?”
“I guess you did,” she agreed smugly, her eyes traveling involuntarily down the length of his torso and the thin patch of hair leading to his groin.
“Fine. I’ll go to your damned meeting. But I want you to agree to do something for me, too. Think you can do that?”
“Depends,” she asked skeptically, “what is it you want me to do?”
“I want you to try your hand at baking for real, flesh and blood people instead of keeping it all to the web. I want you to make some of the awesome things you’ve been feeding Andy and me and bring ‘em to my friends’ bakery to see if they’ll sell them for you. If you’re going to keep helping me out, I’d like to help you, too. We’ll both try something out of our comfort zones. Maybe we’ll both learn something.”
Katie looked at him closely, her heart thumping at a mile a minute. It would be so easy to tell him no. The terms of their bet hadn’t said anything about her having to go out on a limb with her baking, after all. As far as Katie was concerned, she wasn’t the one who needed to learn how to accept help. There was something in his face, though, that she couldn’t make herself ignore. It was hope. He looked hopeful, waiting for her to agree, and for a man like Ian hope was no small thing. She groaned, rolled her eyes extravagantly, and nodded.
“Yeah?” he asked, his smile wide and full of a genuine-looking surprise. “You’ll try it out?”
“I’ll try it out. I’m not promising anything, but I’ll try it out. Anything else I can do for you?”
&nb
sp; “I don’t know yet. I’ve got one more question before I can give you a bona fide answer.”
“What’s that?” she asked, exasperated and exhilarated at the same time.
“What does this mean for the sex?”
She got up without answering, traipsed to the bedroom door, and shut it quietly, turning the lock. When she looked back at Ian, he was propped up on his elbows and watching her every move, a wide, lopsided grin plastered across his face.
“It means,” she said, joining him on the bed and sliding one leg over his hips, feeling him growing between her legs, “that we still have sex, but we get to do it my way. Any problems with that?”
“Sugar,” he growled, sliding his hands up her dress and making her moan when his hands found her breasts, “as far as I’m concerned, that makes this situation a win-win.”
15
“So, before we go in, just remind me, brother. What exactly are we doing here?” Jonah asked. Ian, in the process of opening the ranch house’s front door, shot him a dark look that served as answer enough. Like a good brother, Jonah was doing what Ian wanted, but he wasn’t exactly the type to socialize. Unless Ian owned up to some kind of a relationship with Katie, Jonah wasn’t going to cotton to her. If that was what Jonah wanted, though, he was going to be waiting for a long time.
“Just stick to the baked goods, bro, okay? We’ll save the fast friendship for another time,” he said with a wry smile. Jonah shrugged, then licked his lips for effect.
“Okay, but only because that food was good. Who would have thought it, you know? Brownies and cookies and shit without any of the usual stuff in ‘em, and they still taste good. Girl’s got talent.”
When Jonah was right, he was right. Ian wasn’t about to make a fool of himself over it, but he was pumped about Katie’s having agreed to the bakery thing in the first place. For his part, the parents’ meetings had turned out to be a blessing in disguise, and he was still going to them semi-regularly. The need to do something for her, too, had been strong. It drove him crazy that she was still such a slave to social media. Getting her to try something new, and in such a niche market, felt like the perfect way to help her put her past behind her. The fact that her goods had sold out so quickly for two weeks running felt like validation, to be sure.
The Cowboy’s Surprise Nanny: Grant Brothers Series Book One Page 8