“Is everything all right?” Roger Cullen asked.
“Sorry, yes. I want to propose something. To Angie mostly, but I guess it really concerns all of you.”
She felt more than saw the puzzled surprise in Angie’s gaze. She had to suppress a giggle. Perhaps the word propose was a slight misnomer.
“I was thinking that, with all of your permissions, Angie could move in with me for a couple of weeks. While she recovers. I have some time off from work owed to me, so it would be no problem to take a couple of weeks off, whatever Angie needs.”
“Oh!” Suzanne’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh dear, dear Vic. That’s so kind of you. But we’ve got this covered. Angie is in good hands with us. In fact, one of us can be by her side the entire time. Right, gang? We can look after her in shifts.”
“Absolutely,” said Roger. “We wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“Anything for my big sister,” Nick said, more emotional than Vic had ever seen him.
Only Claire remained silent, watching Angie and then Vic, back and forth as though she were watching a tennis match. She smiled. “I think it’s a fabulous idea.”
The other three Cullens exploded in simultaneous disagreement, clearly insulted that Claire would side with Vic. Insulted by the whole idea that Angie, in her time of need, might leave the protective nest.
Vic held up her hand to quiet the room. “I’m sorry, Roger, Suzanne, Nick. I don’t mean to cause family drama.” She glanced at Angie, who had smartly decided to remain mute. “I only suggest it because I know you all have endless things to do on the farm. And I’m well qualified to look after her if there are any complications. And in fact if there are complications, my house is only a couple of miles from the hospital, where we can get her immediate help. Out on the farm, you’re at least twenty minutes away, and with it being winter, weather could be an issue if she needed help.”
“Well,” Suzanne said, crossing her arms over her chest and giving Vic an inscrutable look. “I don’t like it. I don’t like the idea that my baby girl is sick and not at home under my watch.”
“Ditto,” Roger said. “Although it’s kind of you to offer, really, we do appreciate it. But our daughter belongs at home right now.”
Nick looked from his parents to Claire, clearly caught in the middle. “Um…”
“Hey,” said Angie, waving her hand. “What about me? Do I get a say in this?”
All eyes in the room swung to Angie. Vic swallowed. Please say yes, she silently begged. She was trying to do Angie a favor, offer her an out from what was sure to be smothering attention on the farm. But she had her own selfish reasons too. She wanted to make up for lost time with Angie. Wanted to prove to Angie her devotion, her loyalty. Wanted to prove that Karen was, once and for all, her past and that she was ready to acknowledge where her heart stood. It was important to show Angie these things rather than to just tell her.
“I suppose Vic makes a good argument,” Angie said mildly, as though Vic had proposed something as mundane as taking her for a car ride. “We could try it for a week. I’m sure I’ll be back on my feet by then and able to look after myself.”
Suzanne looked devastated.
“Mom, it’s not like you can’t visit. And besides, I’m going to get my own place again at some point. I just haven’t found a house yet that I want to buy, but it’s going to happen one of these days and probably sooner rather than later.”
Roger emitted a defeated sigh. “If it’s what you want, honey. I know we can be overprotective at times. But those years you were in Afghanistan and Iraq…you have no idea how much we worried about you. How out of our control it all felt to us. It was very hard on us.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Boy, you got that right. They drove me nuts with their worrying.”
“We’d have been equally nuts if it’d been you over there, young man,” Suzanne scolded.
Claire stood and motioned with her hand like she was herding a bunch of school kids in the schoolyard. “It’s settled then. Mom, Dad, Nick, let’s go get a sandwich and a coffee and let Vic and Ange work out the details.”
“Thank you,” Vic mouthed to Claire as the group passed, earning a wink in response.
“I don’t know whether to kiss you or to be really pissed off at you,” Angie said as soon as they were alone.
Vic pulled up a chair and laughed. “Well, I know which one I’d pick.”
“Do you now?”
“Well, it’s a bit of a toss-up, but yes, I do.”
The mischievous glint in Vic’s eyes was a joyful revelation, because it was like old times between them, flirting up a storm. But it wasn’t all fun and games. She knew enough not to read too much into things right now—things that might not really be there, such as Vic feeling something for her beyond friendship or professional loyalty. “I appreciate the offer, Vic, I know what you’re trying to do, but it’s really not ne—”
“Whoa, wait a sec. I didn’t make the offer just to be nice or to get your family off your back for a while.”
“Is it guilt? Are you still beating yourself up about what happened to me? Because if you are, that’s—”
“No, it’s not that. I…”
Angie couldn’t read what lay behind Vic’s hesitation. Was she having second thoughts? Was she about to tell her something incontrovertibly painful and final, perhaps that she and Karen were getting back together again? Or were already back together? The thought made Angie instantly nauseous. Please, anything but that.
“Look,” Vic continued. “I want to help you. In spite of us going off the rails the way we did, I care about you, Angie. That’s never changed. And I want to be here for you. Let me do this. Please.”
“I don’t know what to say, Vic.” Would it be uncomfortable, the two of them shacked up alone together? Christ, what if Karen was going to be there too? If so, it’d be the fastest goddamned post-op recovery in the history of the world.
“Say yes.”
“Hmm, and if I don’t?”
Vic eyeballed the IV bag hanging over Angie’s bed. “Let’s see. I could easily substitute your pain drip with saline solution.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“Oh, I would!”
Angie sighed dramatically. Whatever else was or wasn’t going on between them, Vic made her smile. And while moving in with her for a week might not be the smartest decision she’d ever made, it beat the hell out of having her parents hovering at her side every minute. “All right. Deal.”
“Good girl. Now the first order of business is to start reading this lesbian romance novel together.”
“What?”
From her lab coat pocket, Vic withdrew a paperback novel, its cover featuring a hot-looking woman in a cowboy hat and checked shirt with cleavage as deep as the Grand Canyon. “We’re going to read this together. I figured something not too heavy while you’re all doped up.”
“Is there sex in it?”
“Oh, I’m sure there is.”
“Well then, what are you waiting for?”
Vic laughed. “Indeed.” She slipped her reading glasses on and thumbed open the book. It occurred to Angie that there was nothing sexier than a woman reading, especially while wearing reading glasses. “All right, chapter one. Geraldine Strombecker pulled on her leather cowboy boots and—”
“What? Wait! Geraldine? And Strombecker? Are you kidding me? What kind of name is that for a romance novel?”
Vic laughed until she was doubled over and clutching her sides. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Oh my God, the look on your face.”
With her good side, Angie reached behind her and tossed her pillow at Vic. God, even if it hurt like hell, it felt good to laugh with Vic again. Tears began to collect in her throat at the realization that there was nobody she’d rather be with than the woman who sat at her side, clutching a paperback novel with one hand and wiping away tears of mirth with the other.
Vic carefully replaced the pillow behind her head, fluffing it
first, and flipped open the novel again. Angie closed her eyes, lost herself in the rhythm and melodic cadence of Vic’s voice. She could listen to Vic, sink into those gray-green eyes, all day. And as she floated on the slow, loose ripples of pain medication and let the river of Vic’s voice carry her away, it occurred to Angie that at this moment, she’d say yes to anything Vic might ask her. She wanted, in fact, to stay in this moment forever.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
There was no shortage of offers to help settle Angie in at Vic’s house two days later. Angie’s firefighter buddy Vince, her brother Nick, and her EMT partner Jackson tried to carry her into the house until Angie finally barked at them to let her walk. Which she did, slowly. She wanted to visit with them in the great room or “parlor” as she sometimes called it (and usually in a teasing voice thick with an English accent), but Vic forced her by threat of barring future visitors to settle into bed upstairs in her own room, which was right next to the main bathroom and a short few steps away from Vic’s room.
Vic had just successfully chased away the three men when Liv and Julie showed up. Tagging along with them was the brawny new cop in town, Shawna Malik. In a pullover sweater and jeans, she looked less bulky than in her uniform and protective vest. But still, Vic thought, I wouldn’t want to mess with her.
“Thirty minutes,” Vic said in her harshest tone, leveling them with a stare she hoped looked sufficiently threatening. “She needs to rest. Which the three of you should know.”
Liv gave her a crisp salute, Julie smiled knowingly and Shawna cut her an apologetic look, spreading her hands as if to say she was simply along for the ride.
The three told Angie jokes and the latest gossip around the hospital. And while Angie eagerly devoured the company and the attention, she exhausted quickly. Vic had begun to notice the smallest signs of anything that looked off with her—her skin color, her breathing, the alertness in her eyes, the strength of her voice. And Angie, she could tell, was growing more weary by the minute.
Exactly twenty-eight minutes after the three women had tromped upstairs to see Angie, Vic shooed them away, promising them they could visit again tomorrow.
“But you’re cutting our visit short by two minutes,” Liv complained.
“Out. I’m not letting you kill my patient with kindness.”
“Spoilsport. You’re not this mean around the hospital.”
“Yes, she is,” Julie said, smiling to show she didn’t mean it.
“Bring chocolate next time,” Angie called after them. “And lesbian romance novels for Vic to read to me.”
That earned a howl of laughter and a round of promises as the three noisily departed.
“Well, Vic. You’ve got the role of jail warden down pat,” Liv said on a laugh. “Just don’t take advantage of your cute prisoner.”
Vic grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Am I missing something,” Angie said to her when they were alone, “or am I sensing sparks between Shawna and Julie?”
Vic sat down on the edge of the bed. It was a double, so there was plenty of room. “I noticed it too. Did you see the little looks they were giving each other?”
“Yes. And the secret smiles when they thought nobody was looking. Do you think Liv knows?”
“No. If she did, she’d have already blabbed about it.”
“Ooh, we know something that Liv doesn’t? Better write down the date and time.”
“Oh, my God, that is a momentous occasion. She usually sniffs out romances like a hound dog trailing a scent.”
“What about you?” Angie’s voice dropped an octave, managing to sound sexy even in her weakened state. “How do you feel about romances?”
Vic expected to see a teasing glint in Angie’s eyes. Instead, the soulfulness she saw there nearly broke her in half. What she really wanted to do was lie beside her, stroke her arm, her shoulder, her neck, her cheek, and then whisper words of affection and promise. But it wasn’t the time or the place. Perhaps, she reasoned in her mind, her reticence was because she couldn’t quite get out of doctor mode with Angie. Or, hell, maybe I’m just a coward. And she took the coward’s way out by turning her response into a joke. “Oh, I’m all for them. That’s why I’m reading to you from a romance novel.”
“I’m serious, Vic.”
Vic took Angie’s hand, stroked the back of her thumb softly and evenly, the way she might reassure a child. “This isn’t the time to talk. You need to get better first, okay?”
“But I am better, aren’t I?”
“Yes. You’re definitely getting better, but you need to go slow with this, build up your strength again.”
“But Vic, I—”
“Shh. There’ll be time later, I promise.” Vic leaned over and touched her lips to Angie’s forehead. Her skin felt warm, slightly clammy. “Are you feeling all right? You seem a little warm.”
“I’m fine.” Her tone said she was disappointed and in a mood to sulk.
“You’re probably worn out from being moved here. Not to mention the parade of visitors.”
“I’m fine. I promise.”
Vic stood. “I’m going to let you rest now. And I’ll be right downstairs if you need me, okay? I’ll be back up to check on you in an hour or so.”
“Wait. Read to me first?”
The pleading in Angie’s eyes shot straight into Vic’s heart. Saying no to this woman took a colossal amount of willpower, and Vic had no real desire to resist. If Angie asked her to hold her, she would do it. If she asked her to kiss her, she wouldn’t dream of saying no. She was gone, a sucker for this woman, whether it made sense or not.
She plucked the book off the nightstand and sat back down again. “Okay, sport. One chapter. And then you’re going to have a nap.”
Angie batted her eyelashes playfully. “Yes, Dr. Turner.”
* * *
Sex. Good sex. No, great sex.
Hands everywhere, dancing over skin, skimming breasts, brushing shoulders, tickling thighs. Lips playing over nipples, then sucking gently. A mouth that was warm and wet and soft and oh, so skilled! A mouth that was everywhere at once.
Angie thrashed her head from side to side, her pillow damp. It was as though stones held her eyelids down. She gave up trying to open them, sank back into the fog in her mind that swallowed everything. Everything, that is, but thoughts (memories?) of sex. Heart-stopping, mind-numbing, bone-shattering sex. It was that book Vic had been reading to her, the characters, in her mind, were making wild love. No, wait. It was Vic. Vic had come in here and made love to her. Yes, maybe that was it. She was wet down there, aroused, hardened into a desperate yearning. She wanted Vic. Where was she? She tried to call out, uncertain whether her voice was working. Her jaw felt thick, stiff.
A hand, cool and soft, touched her forehead, her cheek. Again Angie tried to open her eyes, succeeding this time in opening them partway. It was Vic, her mouth tight with concern.
“Angie, you’re burning up, love. How are you feeling?”
“Sex,” Angie mumbled, the word rolling around in her mouth before spilling out. “Did we…”
“You’re not making sense. You have a fever. Are you in pain?”
“You…we…were good together, Vic. You were so…hot…you were…I wanted…”
Her voice firmer this time, Vic said, “Angie, are you in pain? Does it hurt anywhere?”
“My…my side.” Jesus! A red-hot poker jabbed her repeatedly, right where she’d had that damned spleen repair. She clenched her teeth against the pain, sobered by it, defeated by it.
“I’m getting a thermometer and a cold cloth. Be right back.”
“Don’t go,” Angie tried to say, but managed nothing more than a grunt.
Vic returned and inserted a thermometer in her mouth, draped a cool cloth over her forehead. Angie mumbled.
“Don’t talk until I get a reading, okay?”
Vic’s voice was strained, her smile doing nothing to mask her concern. This wasn’t good,
everything about Vic said. When she extracted the thermometer, her brows pinched fiercely together.
“I’m going to have a look at your incision, okay?” Gently Vic pulled Angie’s baggie T-shirt up, touched the skin around her incision with hands that were methodical, clinical, but a spark of arousal shot through Angie just the same. She missed being touched. She missed Vic. The Vic that wasn’t a doctor.
“What?” Angie mumbled. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m calling an ambulance.” Vic was calm as she pulled her cellphone from her pocket.
“Why?”
Vic turned away to talk to an emergency dispatcher on the other end of the line.
“Five minutes,” she said to Angie. “I think you might have an infection. I want a surgeon to look at it right away. Preferably Dr. Kennedy, if he’s working. Or I’ll have them call him in if he’s not.”
Vic was back on her cellphone again, calling the hospital’s ER, ordering people about.
“Wait,” Angie said after Vic finally put her phone away. Her posture was erect, stiff, as though every muscle in her body were on high alert. It was anything but comforting. “Am I going to be okay? You’re…scaring me.”
Vic took Angie’s hand, kissed it and didn’t let it go. Her face relaxed, her smile a lifeline Angie clung to. “I’m going to make sure you’re okay. We’ll get you on some IV antibiotics, do a scan, hopefully nothing more than clean out your incision.”
“You don’t…have to do this.” Tears collected in Angie’s throat, an obstruction she couldn’t cough away.
“Do what, sweetie?”
“All…this. Looking after me. Being nice to me.” I don’t want you being nice to me, Angie thought. I want you to love me, dammit.
“I’m doing all this, as you put it, because I want to. And because I don’t trust anyone else to look after you as well as I can.”
“Vic, do you…” A siren wailed in the distance, growing closer. Shit, they’re using the fucking siren. I’m not dying for Christ’s sake!
“It’s going to be fine,” Vic said, but it was in that professional voice she used in the ER with patients or their loved ones, when the outcome wasn’t at all a sure thing, but she didn’t want to worry them needlessly. “I’ll be with you every minute.”
Heartsick Page 19