Emily got up and moved away from him to grab some water from the fountain. She hated that she still wanted him, that she still yearned, especially now, to curl up into his arms and just sob. This was horrible—just so godawful. She needed him to be the man she thought he was, but if he couldn’t …
She looked up as Tom approached them. “She’s stable,” he said, his voice scratchy and rough. Emily hugged him.
“That’s good news, right?”
Tom seemed to have trouble speaking. “In a way. But she’s in a coma and they have no idea how much damage the bullets …” he choked on the words, “the bullets have done until she can wake up and communicate with the doctors. God, she must be in so much pain.”
Dash was at his side, his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Otis is on his way. Roman called; they’ve just landed at SeaTac.”
Tom nodded. “They’ve got Bay in ICU now. They said I could go in, but they don’t want too many people around. I’m sorry, guys. You’ve been such a comfort to me, but maybe you should go home for now. I’ll call you with any news. thank you. I mean it.”
Dash drove them back to his apartment. “Look, forget everything else and get some sleep. You can have my bed. I’ll take the couch. Grab a bath, shower, whatever you need, Ems. Whatever has happened between us …we’ll put a pin in that. We have work to do.”
Wearily, Emily agreed, and soon they were in his penthouse where she stood under a hot shower, feeling the ache in her bones being soothed. Afterward, wrapped in Dash’s bathrobe, she wandered out to the kitchen. Dash was flipping pancakes onto a plate. “Eat up, Ems. Carbs are the way to go.”
She smiled at him. “I never knew you could cook.”
Dash smiled. “Enjoy. I’m going to grab a shower now. If you’re asleep when I get out, I won’t wake you.”
He started to walk away, but turned when she called him back. “Bay will be okay, won’t she?”
“You bet your …” Dash started, but then sighed. “I don’t know, Ems. I just don’t know. All I can promise you for real is that Otis will do everything he can.” For a brief second, he smiled. “He’ll do it in a way that’ll make you want to punch him, but he is the best.”
Emily nodded. “Thank you,” she said softly, and when he touched her cheek, she leaned into it for a just a second before turning away.
Dash went to the bathroom and Emily picked at the pancakes. She wasn’t hungry even though they were delicious. She waited until she heard the shower running, then tipped the food into the trash can, carefully covering it up with some paper towels. She didn’t want to offend him.
In his bedroom, she curled up on top of the comforter and buried her face in the pillow. It smelled of laundry detergent, fabric softener, and Dash’s cologne, woody and spicy. She breathed it in. Stop it, she told herself, it’s over. She tried to distract herself by going through what they had to do. Press releases, statements, and cancellation of appearances. It couldn’t have happened at a worse time for the momentum the band had built up.
Emily stopped herself. What the hell? Why was she thinking like a marketing automaton when her friend was dying? The thought that Bay might die hit her like a train and she started to cry, then sob as all the pain she had pushed away came down on her. Not just about Bay, but Dash too. Her love for him had been complete, as had her trust, and he had broken it. Fuck it, though, she still loved him—still wanted him. She buried her face in the pillow, her sobs becoming wrenching and exhausting.
She felt the bed dip as he climbed onto it and gathered her into his arms. He did nothing except hold her while she cried and press his lips to her forehead when her sobs died down to shuddering gasps. Her mouth sought his then, unconsciously, and his lips moved gently on hers, kissing, caressing, and comforting.
“You should sleep now,” he whispered. “Just let yourself go.”
“Stay,” she whispered. “Don’t let me go.”
Dash pressed his lips to her forehead again. “Never,” he promised. “Never.”
Shae sat in the gallery overlooking the operating theater, watching her boss operate on Bay Tambe. She had met him only once in the five days they had been in Seattle, a brief, masked meeting in the theater the day before he operated. A bullet had lodged in Bay’s spine and he was trying to remove it before it could do any more damage.
The reason she was in the gallery was that, in that first meeting, she had dared to disagree with the great man. Vehemently.
“I just don’t know why you’re risking it,” she had told him. “The spine is stable. That bullet could stay in there for years without complications.”
“But she will be in constant pain, Dr. Groves.” He had stared at her over the mask, his dark eyes amused. “Bay is a musician at the very start of an exciting career. That bullet moves and she’s paralyzed or dead.”
“The chances are …”
“The chances are, doctor, that my friend will benefit from not being in agonizing pain for the rest of her life. The chances are that I know how to do this better than you. Now, as you are clearly against this procedure, you’re excused. Please update Tomas Meir on his fiancé’s condition.”
Douchebag. Utter douchebag. Shae called him every name she could think of under her breath and went to find Meir. The tall man was waiting in a private room—no doubt arranged by Otis as a favor. Shae ground her teeth. Life’s great when money isn’t a problem, she thought, but when she saw the expression on Tomas Meir’s handsome face, she felt badly. This man was in agony.
“How is she?”
Shae tried to smile at him. “Why don’t we sit?” Tom followed her to a chair and slumped into it, his big frame hunched and broken.
“Dr. Ford is operating now to remove the last bullet from Miss Tambe’s spine.” Shae tried to keep her face neutral, but it was hard in the face of this man’s pain. “He feels that she has a better chance of recovering full function, should there be any nerve damage. We won’t know the full extent of her injuries until she wakes up.”
Tom’s eyes were heavy. “Will she wake up?”
“We haven’t found any reason why she shouldn’t. We monitoring her vitals and we think she’s already beginning to emerge from the coma.” Shae frowned. “Has no one told you that?”
Tom shook his head, but held up his hand. “It’s okay; I’d rather you all concentrate on Bay. But thanks anyway. That gives me hope except …”
“Except?”
“Will she feel more pain when she wakes up?”
“We’ll help her with that, of course, so don’t worry. But long-term, there may be some pain we have to manage. I wish I could tell you that recovery won’t be painful, but I can’t. We just have to wait and see.”
Tom sighed and rubbed his face. “Thanks. Listen, I don’t think Otis has mentioned you yet. Are you new to his program?”
Shae nodded. “Three weeks in. I haven’t even been officially introduced to him yet.” She grinned and Tom gave a small laugh.
“Well, I’ve known him for twenty years and can I give you some advice?”
“Go ahead.”
“Give him a chance. He’s a pain in the ass, but his heart is big. Even if you want to punch him at first.”
Shae relaxed, liking this man and his warmth. His love for his friend was touching. “I’ll remember that.”
Otis was finishing up now, having removed the bullet. Shae glanced at the clock. Two hours. That was insane. She hoped his arrogance didn’t mean a life of pain for Bay Tambe. She had never met the young woman, but if a man like Tomas Meir loved her, then she was inclined to like her. Shae slipped out of the gallery and went back to her office. Five minutes later, Otis came in, smiling and laughing with the anesthesiologist. He met her eye, but said nothing until the other man had left.
“So, Dr. Groves, I got the little bastard and I think we saved her nerves too. A good day.”
His brown eyes were amused and mocking, but she met them steadily. “Would you like me to go update Mr. M
eir?”
Otis pulled off his white coat, then, without warning her, he peeled off his t-shirt. Shae looked away but not before taking in the lean physique, the well-muscled stomach, and the dark hair over his pecs. Something quivered between her legs for just a second, then, as he grabbed another shirt, he shook his head, unaware of the storm raging inside her. “No, I’ll do it. Dr. Groves, I’d like to introduce myself properly and learn some more about you. Helen tells me great things. After I’ve talked to Tom, I’ll take you to dinner. We can talk then.”
Nodding at her, he swiftly left the room, Shae staring in disbelief after him.
Tomas Meir smiled at the nurse who was tending to Bay as he slipped into her room. He waited until the nurse had left before pulling his chair to the bed. Sitting, he took one of Bay’s cool hands in his.
“Hey, beautiful,” he whispered, hoping she could hear him. He noticed she had more color in her cheeks now. For so long her skin had been gray and wan. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand, then his breath caught in his chest. Her fingers twitched and pressed against his. He looked up, watching for any movement in her face. “Bay? Sweetheart?”
Bay moaned softly and Tom was up. “Hey, hey, hey, baby? Bay, open your eyes, darling, please …hey, nurse? Nurse!”
As the nurse hurried back into the room, Tom’s heart swelled and burst with joy as the love of his life opened her eyes and smiled at him.
Shae fidgeted as she sat in the high-end restaurant. When Otis Ford said he’d take her to dinner, she thought he meant a quick bite at a fast food place, but no, she was sitting in one of Seattle’s most world-renowned eateries—in her jeans and t-shirt.
Otis Ford, on the other hand, was dressed in an exquisite suit, his lean body made for the expensive cut. His short, almost shaved dark hair was touched with gray at the temples, his face as finely angled as his body. A faint shadow of stubble kept him from looking too well put together, she decided. He looked amused at her scrutiny.
“Made up your mind about me?”
She flushed, but was determined not to let him fluster her. “Not yet, but it’s early days. Luckily, I now have an ‘in.’ Tomas Meir warned me about you.”
To her great surprise, Otis laughed, a genuine sound of warmth and amusement. “Then I concede defeat immediately. Well played, Dr. Groves.”
“Shae.”
“Shae. Beautiful name. Is it short for anything?”
She smiled. “Thanks, and no. Yours?”
Otis grinned. “What could Otis be short for?”
She pretended to consider. “How about, ‘Otis-is-the-way-we-always-do-it-and-don’t-argue?’”
Otis snorted. “That was terrible.” He thought about her joke and laughed again. It was a rich, deep sound that made her insides do a flip-flop. Do not get a crush on your boss. Do not get a crush on your boss. Otis leaned forward and studied her.
“Shae, let me put your mind at rest. I would never risk a patient’s health unless I was one hundred percent certain I was correct. Anyone’s health, but especially not a much-loved friend’s.”
Shae chewed on her lip and Otis half-smiled. “But you did right today. Keep challenging me. I need it to stop me from getting complacent.”
Shae grinned. “As much as I’d like that, I don’t want to spend my entire residency in the gallery.”
Otis smiled. “I do that to every resident the first time, Shae. Not just the ones who disagree with me. It gives you pause, a moment to observe how I work, and to see how our different methodologies can be effectively combined to produce the best possible outcome for our patient.”
The server came with their food and Shae almost moaned at the sight of her steak, cooked perfectly and with garlic butter oozing across it. Otis, she noticed, had ordered the trout, without butter, and a side salad with no dressing. She bit into one of her French fries defiantly.
“So what made you go into ortho?” Otis flaked his fish, checking for bones. Shae hid a smile; as ever the surgeon, she thought.
“I’m a geek,” she said honestly. “I always loved construction bricks when I was a kid. I’m fascinated with the structure of the human body—what everything else hangs on, so to speak. What makes it function and what makes it feel.”
“So why not neuro?”
“It was a toss-up between the two.” Shae cut another piece of steak and chewed it, savoring the explosion of flavor. “What about you?”
“I trained as both a neurosurgeon and an orthopedic surgeon.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Seriously?”
Otis smiled. “Seriously. I wanted to excel in both, so I spent a few more years as a resident than strictly necessary to cover both specialties. One informs the other, at least to me, more so than any other two stands of medicine—although I’m biased. It has helped me immeasurably.”
Shae was impressed. “Do you think Bay Tambe will make a full recovery?”
Otis sighed and suddenly Shae noticed the expression in his eyes: sadness and horror. It hit her then that Bay was Otis’s friend, that he loved her as such, and that it must have been hard to make the decision to operate. How scared he must have been. His arrogance was a mask. Do. Not. Fall. For. Your. Boss.
Otis’s phone buzzed at the same moment as hers. Otis checked his first and looked up at Shae, smiling. “Well, would you look at that? She’s awake.”
Bay swallowed, her throat tinder-dry and raw. The nurse, Kath, took her vitals.
“How are you feeling, honey?”
Bay tried to speak but couldn’t form the words. Tom, gazing at her, spoke for her.
“She’s thirsty; can I get her some water?”
Kath stroked Bay’s forehead. “I can’t let you drink just yet, but I can wet your mouth for you. Is that okay? All right, sweetheart, let me just go fix that right up for you.
She smiled at Tom, who, as soon as she was gone, returned to Bay’s side. He sat carefully on the bed and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “How are you feeling, baby?”
Pain, she mouthed and coughed with the effort. He bent to kiss her.
“Thank you for fighting. Thank you for coming back to me. God, Bay, I’m so sorry …I never thought he could do this.” He dropped his face into his palms for a second.
Bay tapped his shoulder and he looked at her lovely, tired face. Kym?
He shook his head. “We don’t know, darling. We’re doing the best we can. The police are being fantastic. We’ll find her, I promise, and that bas …” He couldn’t get the name out. “I want to tear that scum apart with my bare hands for what he’s done to you.”
Bay touched his face and he leaned into her hand. I love you, she mouthed and he smiled.
“I love you so much, Bay. When I saw you like that, shot …”
She shook her head at him. Don’t think about that. I’m here. I’ll be okay.
Tom nodded and laughed, even as a tear dropped from his eye. “I should be reassuring you. Look, see this button? You press it and it dispenses morphine.”
Bay pressed it repeatedly and Tom frowned. “Oh, sweetheart, does it hurt a lot?”
Before she could answer, Otis came into the room and Bay smiled at him. He was followed by a gorgeous, young African American woman who smiled tentatively at her. Otis leaned over Bay, touching her face.
“Hey, kiddo, you gave us a scare. How are you feeling?”
“She can’t speak very easily,” Tim interjected. “Her throat’s too dry and she’s in a lot of pain.”
Kath returned with a surgical tray. She wet a small sponge. “Open up, sweetie, and I’ll run this around your mouth. Don’t suck the sponge.”
Bay opened her mouth wide and let the nurse help her. Just before Kath finished, Bay clamped her lips shut. Kath laughed. “She sucked the sponge.”
“Totally worth it,” Bay croaked. “Hello, everyone. Hello, baby,” she said to Tom as he bent to kiss her.
“I love you,” he murmured and Bay leaned her face against his.
> “Love you,” she whispered back.
Otis grinned at Shae, rolling his eyes. “God, these two are so revoltingly in love, you may want to hurl. Bay, this is Shae Groves, my new resident.”
Bay and Shae smiled at each other. Otis sat on the edge of Bay’s bed. “She’s been reeling me in when I want to do wild and crazy stuff in the theater. So you’ve her to thank for not having bionic legs right now. But, seriously, how are you feeling?”
“Everything hurts,” Bay said honestly. “But I’m breathing. I feel really dirty, though. I could do with a shower.”
Otis sighed. “You may have to wait a few days until you heal some more. There was a lot of damage, Bay. Any GSW into the abdomen causes a lot of soft tissue damage, as you can imagine, let alone three. There’s a huge risk of infection. So, docs orders, take it easy. You,” he pointed at Tom, who grinned. “Leave her alone. I know what you two animals get up to.”
“Okay, Grandpa,” Bay muttered, smiling at Shae. “How’re you finding working with Otis?”
Shae colored. “It’s …interesting.”
Bay laughed and then winced as the torn muscles in her belly objected. Otis shook his head, but he was smiling.
“Come on, enough talking. Get some rest.” He left the room, Shae behind him. Tom sat on the bed and put his arm around Bay. She burrowed into his shoulder, wincing at the pain, but needing to be next to him. He stroked her face and she sighed, relaxing into him. Her whole body screeched with pain, her entire abdomen wrapped in heavy bandaging and her legs and arms tingling with pins and needles. She felt so removed from herself, as if she had been torn out of her own skin. Tom slid a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his, pressing his cool lips against hers. His kiss sent waves of delicious warmth through her, soothing her better than any drug could. She wanted to lay down and be held by him—but the fatigue she felt was unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
“Are you okay, sweetheart? Do you want to sleep?”
She nodded. “But I don’t want to be alone.” His arms tightened around her.
“I’ll be here, baby, as long as you need me.”
She touched his face and saw the violet circles under his eyes. “You need to sleep too.”
Rockstar Untamed: A Single Dad Virgin Romance Page 88