by Zoe York
The names were all vaguely familiar, but Jenna was certain she wouldn’t retain any of it. “I might just get takeout from the diner tonight.”
“Mac’s is great. I should warn you, though—it’s gossip central. You stop in there, everyone in town will know who you are within the hour.”
Jenna grimaced. “I was there two hours ago.”
“Well, we’ll do our best to head off the curious mob, then.” Liana stopped her bustling and gave Jenna a searching look. “And you are welcome at our house any time. Don’t let Sean’s bark scare you off.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow.” And the next day, and the day after that.
After Dean and Liana left, Jenna walked through the small house feeling shell shocked. This wasn’t one of the dozen scenarios she’d run through in her head. Honestly, she hadn’t properly pictured just how small and remote Pine Harbour was. She was grateful for the place to stay, rather than driving back to the nearest city, but she was also feeling off-balance at the instant acceptance by Sean’s family.
She’d been raised to be suspicious of newcomers. To worry about what they wanted and be on guard for their inevitable departure. She wouldn’t leave Sean, ever, but they couldn’t know that yet. They didn’t know her.
A commotion in the back yard drew her attention, and she stepped onto the deck. A small blur of dark hair and pink cotton streaked across the yard toward her, skidding to a halt when the little girl realized the body on the deck didn’t belong to a person she recognized.
“Uh oh,” the little girl said. She was small, maybe one or two, with big brown eyes and a sweet, round mouth.
Behind her hurried a pretty, curvy brunette who was wincing. “Hi!” She stopped just behind her daughter. “You must be Jenna.”
Jenna ignored her racing pulse and nodded. Might as well put on a brave face, even if she just wanted to run screaming into the house and hide in a blanket fort. “Word travels fast.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I’m Olivia Minelli, and this is my daughter Sophia. We live just there.”
Jenna glanced at the little girl. Pudgy hands and sweet, dark curls. Jenna liked kids, and right now, she knew that looking into the eyes of an innocent would be way easier than seeing knowing sympathy gazing back at her. She dropped into a squat. “Hi.”
“Hi,” was the whispered response.
“Do you know this house?”
She got a nod.
Well, if every single person—big and small—in this little town was going to trust her based solely on her connection to Sean, she’d do her best to live up to that expectation. “Do you want to come inside?”
Another nod, then the girl ran up the stairs and reached for the just-a-bit-too-high door handle.
Olivia moved after her, lifting her daughter up so they could open the door together. “There you go…”
Jenna took a deep breath and followed them inside. As much as she wasn’t ready to deal with the larger-than-life cast of Pine Harbour friends and family Sean had told her about, it probably would be easier with some noise in here. The last thing she needed right now was to be lost in her own thoughts.
“I don’t know what I have to offer you…” Jenna said, opening the fridge door. “Ah. Beer.” There was quite a selection. She grabbed a craft IPA—thank you, Sean’s friends and family, for having good taste in drinks—and turned around, holding it out to Olivia. “Would you like one?”
The other woman gave her a faint smile. “I’m good.”
“Do you mind if I…?”
“Please, go ahead.” Olivia’s smile grew a little bashful. “I’m pregnant. If I wasn’t, I’d totally be splitting a beer with you right now.”
She wasn’t showing yet, so maybe it was early days still. None of her business, but there was something about that little tidbit that set Jenna at ease. She could talk to pregnant women for days. She gave Olivia a more natural smile as she twisted the cap off the beer. “Congratulations. And who said anything about splitting?”
Olivia laughed. “Thank you. Most people don’t know.”
“Would you like water or…” She cast about the strange kitchen. “Whatever else your husband and his friends have stocked this place with?”
“I’m fine, but thank you.” Olivia took a few steps into the hallway. “Sorry, I should keep an eye on the dancing ballerina. I also need to give you a heads up. You might have visitors.”
“Visitors?”
“Liana called and said that the word is out. Ten bucks says Dani is already loading food into her car. Brace yourself for casseroles. My mother-in-law will almost certainly bring baked goods. And I’m not sure we’ll be able to keep Matt away.”
“Matt? Sean’s brother?”
Olivia smiled fondly. “He’s a big personality.”
Jenna raised her beer bottle and shook her head. “So there really are people about to descend?”
“Yeah. Sorry.” Olivia laughed weakly, and Jenna joined her. At least the beer was cold, and there was more of it. “Do you want to…talk?”
“No?” Jenna laughed at the way the word came out as a question. “Not yet.”
“Okay.”
“Any chance your friends coming over are bringing cake with them? Chocolate cake?”
“I can make chocolate cake happen.”
“That would be great. I’m going to take a shower because I’ve been on the road for hours.” She opened the fridge door and grabbed another beer. “I’ll be back in a bit. Feel free to let people in.”
She drank the second beer in the shower. It was the most frat boy thing she could imagine doing, and she kind of hated herself for it. But on the other hand, the shower felt good and the beer felt better.
When she got out, she could hear voices in the living room.
It took all of her internal fortitude to get dressed.
It wasn’t a horde of people, thankfully.
Just Olivia and a taller, slimmer brunette who had a baby in a car seat at her feet. Sophia was kneeling in front of the baby and playing with his toes.
“Hi,” Jenna said, stopping awkwardly in the doorway.
The new woman flew across the room and threw her arms around Jenna. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered in Jenna’s ear. “I can’t imagine how scared you must have been. I’m so, so sorry. Sean’s a fucking dickhead.”
From everything Sean had told her, only one person would say that.
“You must be Dani,” Jenna murmured, shell-shocked.
“Yeah.” The other woman stepped back and propped her hands on her hips. “Nice to meet you, by the way.”
Jenna nodded. “Likewise.”
“I understand you just arrived today. I bet he was a bear to you. He’s been insufferable. We’re here for whatever you need. Chocolate cake is in the kitchen.”
“Okay. Wow, I was kind of kidding about that. I mean, thank you, I want it. But this is really overwhelming.” Jenna shoved her hands through her damp hair and tried to process everything. She couldn’t. This was too much. What she needed was a bit of space.
“How about some coffee?”
Yes, coffee was easy. “Sure. Thank you.”
“We won’t stay long,” Dani continued as she led the way into the kitchen.
Thank God.
“Just wanted to bring you food.” There were takeout coffee cups on the counter, along with a tray of cookies, a container out of which Dani cut pieces of chocolate cake, and a few boxes of crackers. “I’ve stocked the fridge with some easy to heat up things, as well as cheese and grapes.”
“Wow.” Jenna accepted one of the cups of coffee and added some sugar and milk to it before sitting heavily at the table.
“This is a lot, we know,” Dani said, joining her. “But we all love Sean, and he loves you, so ergo, we love you.”
She wasn’t sure he loved her. So instead of saying anything, she took a long, slow sip from her coffee. “Thank you,” she finally managed. It was the truth. She was grateful.
<
br /> “He’s going to get better,” Dani said softly. “And when he does, he’ll be so glad you’re here.”
Time would tell, but as of that moment, Jenna wasn’t willing to take that bet.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE NEXT DAY, she headed back to Dean’s house mid-morning. Liana let her in, and made enough small talk that Jenna realized Sean wasn’t up yet.
“Should I come back later?”
“No, it’s fine. He’s just prickly about being woken. He doesn’t sleep well.”
Jenna nodded, when really what she wanted to do was race up the stairs and climb into bed with him. Was he having nightmares? Muscle spasms? Headaches?
“We don’t want to get too involved,” Liana said carefully, moving down the counter to set her hand on one of the thickest medical charts Jenna had ever seen. “But Sean told Dean to leave this out. He said you’d know how to read it.”
A shiver ran through her. He’d told her yesterday about the vertigo. He’d meant it to scare her off, and she had no doubt this was another volley. But she’d seen people survive unimaginable horror. She wasn’t easily frightened.
She nodded. “I do.”
That didn’t mean she wanted to read it all in stark, medical language, though. She wanted to curl up next to Sean and have him run his fingers through her hair as he told her what happened. How awful it had been, but hey, now it’s in the past. Hurray, they were together again.
Except they weren’t, and it wouldn’t go like that. The chart practically yelled that at her. It was thicker than a textbook. So big it had changed him.
And now he wanted to frighten her with the reality of what had happened to him. She didn’t understand why—if he thought he was doing this for her, or for himself. Either way, she needed to know what he knew so she could find a new path for the both of them. Together.
Dragging in a breath, she flipped the folder open and began reading.
SEAN LAY in bed and stared at the ceiling.
He didn’t like anything about his current miserable existence, but if he had to pick something that was tolerable, it was this moment, before he moved. His head didn’t spin, and the ringing in his ears hadn’t yet been complicated by other noises.
And then he heard her, and for a second, he was back in Spain.
We could stay in bed all day. Isn’t this the best?
You’re the best.
You’re just saying that because you want to get lucky.
I’m already lucky. I woke up beside you, didn’t I?
He hadn’t known how good he’d had it, that it would all be taken away.
And then another thought. Not a memory, but a recrimination. She’s right downstairs.
He wasn’t so self-centred that he didn’t realize, theoretically, that he had another chance here. Her showing up could have been the bright light, the shining hope he’d desperately wanted when he first landed in the hospital in Germany.
She laughed at something either Dean or Liana said, and he twisted his head to catch more than just the edge of the sound.
And the world hurtled sharply.
Whoa. No sudden movements, dickhead. Vertigo rule number one.
He shut his eyes, but the swirling disorientation didn’t stop, and the ringing in his ears ramped up alarmingly. He gritted his teeth and grabbed the pillow, trying to block everything out.
Deep breaths sort of worked. Enough to keep the rise of bile back. Throwing up on himself would be a fine fucking way to start the day.
No, he wasn’t selfish to want to protect her from this. She deserved more than two weeks of bliss, then a lifetime of playing nursemaid to an invalid husband.
He rolled onto his side, then his front. His legs pulled up easily under him. Fucking irony. His body worked just fine without his head.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed up onto his hands and knees, keeping his head pressed against the pillow until the last possible second.
A knock sounded at his door, followed by Jenna’s voice. “Sean?”
Fucking hell.
He knew what he needed to do. He needed to push her away. God. He didn’t know if he was strong enough for that, but he’d damn well try. “Go away.”
She hesitated, then sighed. “Dean and Liana have gone out. It’s just me.”
Just her. She said it reassuringly, like she had any clue what was on his side of the door. Like anything they’d shared could prepare her for the fact he couldn’t get out of bed without assistance.
At least yesterday she’d found him standing. This? On all fours, unable to lift his head without tossing his cookies? No.
His chest ached. Jenna, please, he wanted to beg. But that wouldn’t work. He needed to be hard about this. He’d left her his chart. Couldn’t she see what he’d become?
“Go away,” he said again. “I don’t want you here.”
His voice broke on the last word, and he hated that show of weakness.
It took her a long time to respond. “I told you yesterday that I will go, but I will also come back. You might as well see me first.”
It wasn’t seeing her that was the problem. It was her seeing him. “I’m a mess.”
“I don’t care,” she said softly. Then she raised her voice. “I mean, I care. I’ll wait here as long as you need me too. But I’m okay with messy.”
This was a stupid conversation to have through a door. And more to the point, it wasn’t working.
He carefully slid off the bed. He hated the silver walker in the corner, but if Dean wasn’t here, it was either crawl or use the assistive device.
And he wasn’t fucking crawling in front of Jenna.
He made his way to the walker, then hauled himself up. He hated how his arms shook. Hated how he had to find a new focus point before he could take each step.
When he opened the door, she was standing in the middle of the hall, wearing jeans and a t-shirt and looking perfectly perfect. Giving him lots of space. Plenty far away, really, but still too damn close.
“I need to…” He pointed to the bathroom. She stepped aside, but he didn’t want her to watch him hobble, either. “You could sit in my room. There’s a chair.”
Too late, he realized that his desire not to stumble in front her had also been an invitation for her to sit.
Damn his fucking useless head.
The guest room had a whole sitting room area, and that’s where he found her when he returned. He’d scrubbed his face and brushed his teeth. Still looked like a homeless hobo, but he didn’t smell like one.
“Morning,” she said softly as he stepped toward her. Step, lift, clunk. Step, lift, clunk.
His snail’s pace gave him lots of time to soak up how good she looked. She’d braided her hair today. Even though she’d cut it, it was still long enough for that. A thick twist with loose strands spilling out of it. She’d kicked off her shoes downstairs, too, like she was planning to stay a while.
She was sitting in the arm chair, so he took the couch. As soon as he was down, he kicked the walker out of the way.
“I read your medical file.” She pressed her lips together for a second, and he didn’t miss the tremor in her cheek. “You had a stroke?”
“So they say.”
“Sean…”
Fuck, he didn’t want her to worry about him. He wanted her to run screaming, not crying. “I’m getting better.”
“I can see that.” She curled her legs beside her and rubbed her hand up and down her calf. “It sounds like it was really touch and go at the start.”
He’d been there. It had been awful.
“Since your speech returned so quickly, hopefully—”
“I’m getting better in a not-going-to-die kind of way,” he bit out. “Don’t confuse that with any hope for further improvement.”
She dropped her gaze to the floor.
“The key parts of the file were on the top. Chronic tinnitus, vertigo. Migraines, nausea, balance problems. Short term memory gaps. None of that is
going to get better. My brain was put in a pressure cooker. This is the new me.”
She didn’t say anything, just kept her gaze averted.
He sighed. “You shouldn’t have come—”
“I’m not sorry.” She said it quietly, softly, but there was steel in her voice, and it shut him up. “I should have come sooner.”
“No.” Jesus, no. He couldn’t have handled her. Selfish. “How much did this screw you up for work?”
“It didn’t. That’s fine.” She pushed to her feet, still not looking at him. She started to pace. “I’m sticking around for a while.”
“You wanted—”
She jerked her head, finding his gaze, and he shut up. “When I found out, you were… here. With your family. So… I gave notice. I’m fine. It’s fine. I waited until they got a replacement for me.”
He sagged back against the couch in relief. She could go back. She could get another contract. She was only staying for a while. Maybe he could handle that. They could wrap up their affairs, so to speak. “Dean told me he set you up in his place. You…” He swallowed back the invitation for her to stay here. It wasn’t his house to offer, and he wasn’t sure he could handle it if she accepted, anyway.
She resumed pacing when he didn’t finish that thought. She moved with an effortless grace that stayed him. He hadn’t told her enough how beautiful she was. He’d missed so many opportunities in those two weeks to be a better man. He couldn’t let his head swivel to track her as she paced, but each time she moved into his field of vision, his heart seized up, and only relaxed when she slipped away on the other side.
It was fucked up, how much anxiety she caused in him just by being in his presence.
No, that wasn’t fair. She didn’t cause it. He let himself go there, let himself get wound up and worried about shit he couldn’t control.
She stopped beside him and sat on the couch.
His pulse jolted.
She wasn’t touching him, but she was closer than she’d been the day before. It made him want all sorts of things he couldn’t have. He’d tried to think about this—about being well enough to hold her, to kiss her. To do everything he’d missed.