"Was he driving fast," Ryan asked.
'No. He drives like a grandma in a Corvette. Always worrying about other drivers. And yet he gets hit."
Ryan sighed. "That's the fifth fatality accident we've had on that road during the last three months. I'm going to have my deputies set up a road block for drinking too much. We'll fill the jail the first hour we conduct our sobriety tests."
"That's scary," she replied her focus on the ambulance in front of them. "You think he was trying to protect me and that's why he turned the car?"
"Yes," Ryan replied. "If you had hit dead on, there might be more than one body bag out there tonight."
A sick nausea filled her stomach at how close they'd come to being killed.
"Maybe I don't want to go out to dinner at the lake on Friday nights. Maybe I just want to stay home," she said.
"I tell my friends to get off the roads by eleven and never stay until two when the bars close," he said glancing over at her.
The ambulance pulled up in the emergency entrance. Ryan parked the patrol car in a reserved spot and the two of them jumped out, almost running to the entrance.
By the time they reached the door, they had already wheeled Ryan back into an exam room.
She wanted to go in, but knew they wouldn't let her. She wasn't his wife. She wasn't next of kin. She was only the girl who had loved him for years and still did.
Tears welled up in her eyes. She did love him. Even after all the heartbreak he'd caused her, she loved him.
With a gasp, Max woke up, trying to rise up on the gurney.
"What the hell? Where is Meghan?" he demanded.
"Calm down. She's all right," the paramedic told him. "It's you we're concerned about. Looks like your head took a pretty big hit on the window."
"I'm fine," he said though his head was pounding. He knew the signs. Had experienced them in football more times than he wished to remember. Concussion. After so many times, he'd learned to diagnose himself.
"Pupils are dilated," a nurse said in a calm no nonsense voice. "Blood pressure is high, but stable. Pulse is steady."
The paramedics slid the backboard onto the bed. He wanted to get up. He had to know if Meghan was truly okay or were they lying to him. His mind flashed back to the accident. The last thing he remembered was the truck headlights coming straight at them. There was a car on his side of the road and the truck was barreling straight for them on their side of the highway. No place to go.
"Any tingling or numbness the nurse asked?"
"None. I want to go home," he said. "Where is Meghan?"
The second paramedic opened the door and glanced out. "There's a real pretty red head with curly hair talking to the Sheriff."
"That's Meghan. I want her in here," he demanded.
"Sorry, there is not enough room in here and we need to finish checking you out," the nurse said. "The doctor should be coming in the door any second."
"I'm not staying the night," Max told the woman. He'd been in enough hospitals to know that you never got any rest and they were nothing more than a big petry dish full of germs. Not his kind of place.
The door opened and a serious looking doctor walked in with a stethoscope around his neck. "You're awake," he said. "They told you were out."
"He woke up just as we pulled up," the paramedic responded.
"Let's do some X and then we'll get a CT to make certain nothing is damaged. Then we'll talk," the doctor told him.
Thirty minutes later, Max was starting to get agitated. Everything had checked out fine and still they refused to let Meghan come in the room. He needed to see her, to make certain she was all right. Until he saw her with his own eyes, he wouldn't believe she hadn't been hurt.
His last memories were of the truck heading towards them on her side of the car. He'd spun the wheel in his direction and that was the last thing he remembered.
Throwing back the sheet, he'd had enough. They had cut his clothes off of him and put on one of those ridiculous gowns, but he didn't care. Swinging his legs to the floor, a wave of dizziness swept over him and he sat there for a moment letting it pass.
The door to his room swung open. "Mr. X what are you doing? You need to stay in bed."
"I want to make certain my girlfriend is all right. No one will let me see her."
The doctor frowned. "If I allow her in here, will you stay in bed until I've gotten all my reports back?"
Max glared at the doctor. "Look I know I have a concussion. Playing professional ball you get two to three a season. I don't think anything else is wrong with me. I'd like to see my girlfriend and go home."
"Let's start with me allowing your girlfriend to come in here and we'll go from there," the doctor said. "How would the people of Cupid treat me if I let you go and you died at home tonight? Let me do my job and we'll decide on a treatment plan."
He went to the door. "What's her name?"
"Meghan," he said, swinging his legs back into bed and covering up with a sheet.
The doctor went outside and when he came back, Meghan was with him.
"Max, I've been so worried," she said rushing over to his side. Tears welled up in her eyes and she let out a shaky breath. "I kept saying your name and you wouldn't answer me. I was so afraid."
He reached up and stroked the side of her face. "I'm okay. Got a bit of a headache, but the doctor says he's going to let me go home."
"I don't recall saying that," the man standing in the corner watching them said. "I'm going to go check your X-rays and we'll make a decision when I get back."
The door closed behind him and Meghan all but crawled in bed with him. "No one would tell me anything. All those damn hippa laws. I've been so worried."
"I'm fine. I've been worried about you," he said. "Everyone kept telling me you were okay, but I needed to see you."
"Ryan told me you spun the car away from my side. He said you took the brunt of the hit. Did you do that?"
If he admitted the truth, then she would gush even more about what he'd done. He was grateful they were both alive. "I don't remember. I just remember seeing the headlights coming right at us and I had no place to go. What about the other driver?"
She shook her head. "Dead and drunk."
An ache welled within him. He didn't approve of drinking and driving, but he never wanted to see someone die from a bad choice. Whoever had been behind the wheel of the truck had died tonight and that left him sad.
"I'm sorry to hear that," he said. "But I'm grateful you're okay."
"And I'm grateful you're here where you can get the help you need."
"I'm all right. I just want to go home."
They'd left the restaurant at almost eight o'clock. The clock on the wall showed after ten and he was ready to get back to some normalcy in his life.
The door opened and the doctor came in and glanced at Meghan. "You kept him in bed."
"Yes," she responded.
"Okay, so the x-rays don't show any broken vertebrae or any fractures. We know you have a concussion, but you're use to dealing with those. I checked you out and I don't think there is any internal damage. Your vital signs are all good. I'd rather you stayed overnight just to make certain you're okay, but I doubt you're going to agree to that."
"No," he said thinking of all the times he'd been in the hospital before and how he didn't want to spend another night here if he could.
"I was afraid of that. I'll release you if someone will stay with you. You can't go to sleep for at least another three hours. Then I want someone to wake you up every two hours to make certain you're all right. I'm going to give you some pain pills because tomorrow you're going to feel like a truck ran you over. I want you to rest and take it easy for the next couple of days. If you have any problems, any pain, bleeding anything come back to the E.R."
"Okay, I will," he promised knowing he would have to be dying or bleeding profusely to get him back in this place.
"Do you have someone you can stay with that can c
heck your pupil every two hours?"
"He can stay at my place," Meghan said. "I'll watch over him."
Max glanced at her. She was going to let him spend the night at her house? Maybe something good would come out of this yet.
"Is that all right?" the doctor asked him.
Hell yes, it was all right. It was great. "Yes," he responded while doing a happy dance inside.
"All right. I'll send a nurse in with the discharge papers," he said and walked out the door.
"What does the car look like?" he asked knowing his beloved Corvette was destroyed. The first thing he'd bought when he was accepted into the professional football league, his beautiful car.
"Not good. In fact, I'm going to call Uber now to get us a ride home. Ryan brought me to the hospital, but he had to get back to the wreck and help his deputies write up the reports."
He picked up her hand and ran his fingers over the top. "Thanks for letting me stay with you tonight."
"You're welcome. I thought with you're being hurt, I was safe and since you were the one who was injured in the wreck, it was the least I could do."
"I'm going to be just fine," he said and brought her hand up to his mouth. He kissed the back of it.
If she thought she was safe because he had a concussion, she was wrong. He'd had sex when he was hurt a lot worse than this. And right now, he wanted Meghan in the worst possible way. Almost dying did that to a man. Made you remember the important things in life. And being with Meghan was important.
Meghan stayed by Max's side as she helped him into her apartment. A nice young man working his way through college had given them a ride to her home. Opening the door, she got him inside and then shut the portal behind him.
Walking over to her couch he slumped down in the sweat pants the hospital had found for him to wear home. "Would you mind letting me wear your pink fluffy robe? I know whose body has been against that material. This material, I'm afraid a homeless man wore these pants before me."
She started laughing. "Let me help you into the bathroom and I'll bring it to you."
"Okay," he said. "I'm fine. I get a little dizzy occasionally when I move too fast, but other than that, I feel good enough."
"Still, you need to rest," she said going into the bedroom and coming back with the pink fluffy robe she'd worn the night of the Cupid dance. That seemed like a long time ago.
'Here, you go," she said handing him the robe. "You change and I'll make us some hot cocoa."
When he came out, he handed her the sweat pants and t-shirt. "Burn them. I don't want to ever see them again."
"And you going home in the nude?"
"No," he said frowning.
"You have no car. No pants or shirt. You're stranded without clothes." She grinned. She couldn't help but think about the night he'd helped her. Now she was helping him though her mishap was more light hearted than a car accident.
He groaned. "Dealing with the insurance company is not going to be fun."
"Don't think about it tonight," she said brining him a hot cup of cocoa. She sank down onto the coach and he was beside her.
After she sat the drinks on the coffee table, she turned towards him. "I really thought that all my feelings for you were gone. But tonight seeing you passed out, not even certain if you were going to live or die, my heart just about stopped. I don't know what the future will bring, but tonight I want to be as close to you as I can get."
Reaching out he ran his finger down her cheek. "I want you so bad, this pink robe is not hiding how I feel."
"But you're hurt," she whispered against his mouth.
"Not bad enough to stop me from being with you," he said gazing at her in a way that had her insides fluttering like an earthquake.
Reaching up she pulled his mouth down to hers, loving the way his mouth took possession of hers, The feel of his lips caressing her and the slid of his hands down to her breasts had her arching up against him, wanting him, needing him.
Releasing her lips he stood and held out his hand. "Come on Meghan. Show me you're feeling the same thing I am. A hot scalding need to be with you."
"Max," she said with a sigh and took his hand.
"No one has ever made me feel like you do. No one has made me want to fight heaven and earth to be with you," he promised as he walked backwards to her bedroom.
A shiver went through her.
"Are you cold? Let me warm you." He pulled her down with him to the bed.
"I'm not cold. I'm hot with need for you," she said, her fingertips running down his chest, his stomach, to his manhood. She wrapped her hand around him, and he groaned with pleasure. Stroking him she felt in awe of his response to her touch.
"Then let me fix that for you because I ache with desire for you," he said as he gripped her head, holding her mouth hostage, his fingers tangling in her hair, not letting her escape his kiss. And she didn't want to escape. This felt right, like she'd found where she belonged. Yet the scientist in her warned her this was her body's response to the chemistry between them.
His hands slid down her neck to her shoulders and further down until he reached her chest. Cupping her pale globes, he released her mouth from his and leaned down to lift the soft weight of her breast to his lips. Gently, he tugged on her nipple, sucking as much of her into his mouth as he could, as she bucked wildly against him, moaning deep in her throat. Her breathing ragged as her hands moved to his head, trapping him against her breasts as she strained, trying to give him more access to her body.
From the first moment they kissed all those years ago in high school it had been this way between them. There was a sensual connection that was like a live wire going between them. A simple glance, a touch, a kiss and a fire ignited within her.
He moved his hand down her body, skimming over her flat stomach, down until he touched her womanly folds, and she cried out his name gazing at him with longing.
"You feel like silk," he said as he parted her folds and delved inside her.
Slowly, he stroked her, as the blood pounded in her ears, her heart racing, desire swelling inside her. Her fingers gripped the sheets as he brought her pleasure. Honey flowed, a natural lubricant as he prepared her for his entrance. Her body tightened around him, and she cried out, shuddering as she stared straight into his soul.
Smiling, he parted her legs with his. Her body fit perfectly against him, her breasts touching his chest, her hips supporting him, his manhood nestled between the juncture of her thighs, right where he belonged. He entered her in a single swift movement.
"You feel wonderful," she whispered into his ear. "Filling me up like this."
"Meghan," he whispered.
Staring into his eyes, she felt they were connected as one as he moved inside her, stroking her, loving her. Clutching his back, she clung to him as they rode the waves of passion together, holding onto to one another
A tightening spiral of pleasure filled her, and as much as she wished he could last longer, knew that they were both at the crest.
"Max," Meghan called just as her body convulsed with pleasure.
His manhood tightened and swelled within her. With a guttural cry, he slammed into her body, shuddering his release. No matter what happened in their future, she would always remember tonight as the night she'd given him her heart again.
Her heart was pounding, his breathing heavy, as he rolled them to their sides, pulling her snug against his body. She looked up at him, and he reached down and kissed her on the lips.
"Oh, Max, why is it always so good between us," she whispered against his lips.
This morning when Ryan had told Taylor about the accident involving Meghan and Max, which completely shocked her. She'd rushed over to check on her friend. A head-on collision was the worst and she needed to see that Meghan was all right physically and ask her what the hell she was thinking going out with Max. The man had broken her heart once and it had taken her years to get over the fact that during her darkest hour, he'd gone off to football
camp. Never answering her calls.
She remembered the days and nights of being with Meghan, helping her get over what Max had done to the couple. And now they were together again?
She rang the doorbell, waiting patiently with coffee and some of her pastries from the restaurant in hand. It was the weekend, Saturday, her busiest day at the restaurant and she couldn't stay long, but she needed to verify that Meghan was all right physically and emotionally.
She rang the doorbell again, nothing. Could she be passed out in the apartment somewhere or had she gone back to the hospital?
Taylor knew she kept a hidden spare key. Searching, she quickly found it and put it in the lock. Opening the door, she called out. "Meghan?"
Nothing, no response. Walking through the small apartment, she saw a strange set of clothing. An ugly man's warm-up suit. That was odd. Continuing on, she kept calling. "Meghan? Are you here?"
A moan sounded from the area of the bedroom and she walked a little faster. What if she was laying in the floor hurt. Opening the door to her bedroom, she saw the rumpled bed. "Meghan?"
The sound of water running had her hurrying towards the bathroom. She yanked open the door and the vision she saw was burned on her brain forever.
Max had Meghan up against the shower and they were doing it. What the hell was she thinking. "Meghan!"
"Oh my God, Taylor, what are you doing here. Get out."
"Get dressed and meet me in the living room," she said. She pointed at Max. "And you too."
Hurrying out the door, she couldn't believe what she'd seen. Thank goodness, she hadn't seen any body parts as the shower door had a design on it that hid your body from view. What was Meghan thinking?
She went into the kitchen and poured the coffee into cups and sank down at her dining room table. A few minutes later, Meghan appeared in the door, in her pink fluffy robe.
"Why are you here?" she asked.
"Because I was worried about you. Ryan told me this morning that you were involved in a serious car crash in Max's Corvette. But I'm shocked. What are you thinking Meghan? I still remember how upset you were that when you thought you were pregnant, he wouldn't answer your phone calls."
Cupid Scores: (Western Historical Small Town Contemporary Romance) Page 7