by Nikki Duncan
You don’t think that could get complicated? Chief’s challenge came back to her.
Get? No. It was complicated and it showed no signs of smoothing out, because the more time she spent with Logan the more she wanted to be near him. The stronger his spirit pulled at hers until she couldn’t stay away and couldn’t go a day without thinking about him.
Complicated? Yeah, it was much too late to worry about that.
As a physical therapist she’d gotten well-versed in the importance of keeping a professional distance. As a firefighter she’d never expected to be tempted to follow up on a victim she’d never spoken to. Then there’d been Logan. One look into his eyes and she’d done more than follow up.
Her thoughts. Her dreams. Her off time. They were all consumed by Logan, and now that she was getting to know him they were all louder than ever. And more tempting, because she’d seen him at his worst and he’d only been kind.
He’d opened himself up, showed her his vulnerability on both an emotional and physical level. He’d chosen to share what had felt like a defining moment with her and wept in her arms. She understood his pain and loss, but beyond that was the connection that defied logic.
She was pretty sure she was falling for him, and she couldn’t stop herself from calling to check on him.
Lexi was chuckling when she answered her cell. “You calling to see how Logan liked his breakfast?”
“Why would I care about his breakfast?” She’d sent him pancakes and bacon cooked in a brown sugar glaze. Though neither of them admitted it verbally, he had to know it had been from her. Especially since he’d said it was a favorite. Still, she’d been unable to stop herself.
“Well, it was a hit. He’s officially the most-hated patient on the unit. But since that’s not why you’re calling, what’s up?”
Delancey couldn’t stop her smile. “I just wanted to check in to see how he’s doing today.”
“As his therapist?”
“As his friend who’s helping him.”
Lexi chuckled. “Sure. Because as his therapist you shouldn’t be thinking of him personally.”
“Pick on me later, Lex. How’s he doing? What’s he wearing?” Please don’t say a gown.
“This suddenly sounds like a conversation you should be having with him.”
“Ugh. Gutter mind.”
“You love me anyway,” Lexi said. “He’s dressed in shorts over the running pants you brought him yesterday. I think he likes the running pants because they’re supportive like the bandages without being uncomfortable.”
Exactly why I picked them out. Hearing that made her glad she’d bought him some when he hadn’t owned any. Of course she’d washed them in gentle laundry soap before taking them to him to avoid any adverse reactions with his new skin, but she wouldn’t admit to that any easier than she’d admit to being the one who cooked for him.
“You could call him,” Lexi suggested gently. “I’m sure he’d like to talk to you.”
Shaking her head did nothing for a phone conversation, but neither did talking with her hands. She did both frequently. “Now’s not a good time.”
“Because you do want to talk to him.”
She did. She really did. She wanted to hear his voice, to listen to the rise and fall of his breath between his words, to see if he was in an up or down mood.
“Because I’m on shift.” She didn’t want to be on the phone with him if a siren went off. Hearing the alarm and dealing with the rush of adrenaline was a struggle for her, and she’d trained herself to be ready for it. Logan was still raw from being a victim.
“Understood. I’ll text you if he starts running laps so you’ll know if you need to give chase.”
“You’re very funny.” Though she probably would try to chase him if only to make sure he wasn’t running away from their deal.
“You want me to tell him what you’re wearing?”
“Yeah. Hysterical.”
Lexi laughed. “Be safe, D. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, Lex.” She slipped her phone into her back pocket and turned to find Andy watching her.
Whatever he’d overheard, he led with, “How’s Lexi doing?” He always asked about Lexi, making it no secret he was into her. Even Lexi knew he was into her. He never made a move though, and Lexi never encouraged him.
“Working more than anyone else can handle on the unit and doing it with a blaze in her soul.” Until the words came out of her mouth Delancey wouldn’t have thought to describe Lexi that way, but she was the most dedicated person on the burn unit. Like she wasn’t complete when she was away from it. It was curious, but it was also a mystery for later.
“So same as always.” Andy peeked into a bag of groceries. “You bring Oreos?”
“Yes. Why haven’t you ever asked Lexi out?”
“I’m not a fan of rejection.”
Delancey pulled out the vegetables she’d use to put in a stew and set them in the sink for washing. “Why do you think she’ll reject you?”
He pulled at the logo on his shirt. “She rejects anyone with one of these.”
“Maybe just the wrong anyones.” Though thinking about it, she’d never known Lexi to accept a date from a firefighter or a cop. She ran into both kinds of men on her job and, given her looks, they asked her out often. It was another mystery. “You’d be cute together.”
“’Cause I’m worried about being cute.”
“Come on, Andy. Let me say something.”
“Don’t even think of interfering.” Andy pulled back the top of the Oreos bag and took a handful. “I don’t need you meddling in my love life.”
“You have no love life because you’re waiting on Lexi, but you refuse to make a move.”
“Leave it alone, Delancey, or I’ll find a way to meddle in your life.” His shrug was anything but casual. It suggested he had something up his sleeve she would hate, and knowing Andy he did. “I haven’t talked to your mom in a long while.”
Direct hit.
Andy wasn’t her mother’s favorite relative, but she’d eagerly listen to him if she thought he’d give her a way of getting Delancey on a different life track. He was loyal to Delancey, but he’d make her life a little miserable if it meant getting her off his back.
“You play dirty.” Very dirty, threatening her with her mother. “I won’t say a word to Lexi, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop pointing it out that admiring her from afar isn’t going to win her over any sooner.”
“And asking your best friend about her patient isn’t going to let him know you’re interested.”
The alarm sounded and was followed by dispatch announcing who needed to respond. Whatever Delancey might have said, and she liked to think it would have been something clever, vanished beneath the surge of adrenaline flooding her muscles and veins.
Chapter Eight
Delancey visited only a few times before Logan began to anticipate her next one. Anticipate and crave and depend on. He’d only ever anticipated the company of Ashley. He’d never craved a woman to the point he thought of little else in her absence. He wasn’t used to depending on people.
Delancey was different. She made laughing easy while she pushed him through a therapy session. Anytime he wanted to complain or give up, she distracted him with an anecdote about the men she worked with. Her stories were so rich they made Logan feel like she was talking about people he’d known for years. If the pain became too much, which was often, she’d rest a hand on his arm or back. Her touch, gentle and healing, erased the moment’s agony and filled him with yearning.
They’d worked together for two weeks, two days on and one off, working around her shift schedule. It still hurt like a revengeful bitch’s dagger to get out of bed. Changing clothes was a misery that almost equated to the blister-scraping sessions he’d endured between bandage cleanings. If there was even the smallest opening on any of his damaged or replaced skin that blister juice or blood had seeped out of, his clothes found it. A
nd stuck to it with the strength of heavy-duty Liquid Nails.
In the beginning he could barely take three steps after getting out of bed and changing clothes. Now, two weeks later, he successfully walked to the door of his room and back to the bed before his legs began to tremble. He also managed it without needing to lean on anyone.
Half sitting, half leaning against his bed to catch his breath and let his muscles relax after changing clothes, Logan considered the odds of being able to walk to the nurse’s station. If he remembered correctly from the times he’d been rolled past it on the way to or from surgery, it was almost twice the distance he was used to going. If he did it, he’d probably need a wheelchair back to his room.
You won’t know your limit until you reach it. Delancey’s advice from one of their sessions came back to him. In another session he’d told her he was at his limit, but then she’d touched him and he’d found the strength to go farther.
Disturbed and liberated at the same time, Logan closed his eyes and pictured himself walking to the nurse’s station. Maybe if he pulled it off before Delancey’s next visit he could talk her into making him a special dessert to celebrate. Though that would mean she’d have to admit to being the one who sent him home-cooked food every day.
Deny it as she did, she was the one sending him meals. He’d known it when he first mentioned it to her, but he’d confirmed it when he’d gotten a delivery when she was there. Her delivery person hadn’t been able to hide knowing Delancey. Then there’d been the way she watched him eat. Like it mattered if he enjoyed the meal.
“You’re looking good today, Logan.”
Logan looked up and found Nurse Lexi standing inside his door. She moved more quietly than the other nurses, but she’d never caught him off guard before.
“You’re even smiling. Anything in particular have you in a good mood? Maybe someone?”
The smile slipped and instantly his face felt heavier. His skin itched and pulled against the shift. He liked Lexi more than the other nurses, especially now that she wasn’t doing bandage changes. Liking her didn’t make him ready to open up to her.
“Aww.” Lexi sighed in what he was beginning to recognize as her way. “There for a second you almost looked sweet.”
“Sweet?” No one had ever called him sweet.
“No need to look offended. I said almost.” She moved closer and then stopped beside him and held out a hand. “Let’s see how far you can walk. Delancey’s going to want a report.”
“She calls to check on me?” Did he sound hopeful about that? Did he like the idea?
Lexi grinned, giving him the answer to his unspoken questions. Yeah, he liked knowing she thought about him when she was on shift, and that she took the time to check on him.
Glancing at Lexi’s offer of support, he shook his head. “I do it alone, or I don’t do it.”
“Stubborn. I like it.” She nodded toward the door, looking more cheerful than anyone on the burn unit probably should. “When we step out that door, though, you’ll pretend I’m helping steady you. We love our policies.”
“Were you a cheerleader in high school?”
“What if I was?”
“Figures.” He’d hated cheerleaders and their inherent inability to show imperfection.
“I’m not sure that was complimentary.” She inclined her head toward the door. “Walk or stay. Your choice.”
He looked at her hand again, almost willing to stay where he was. He wanted to do that first walk with Delancey, but he also wanted to go home. The sooner he was walking with complete control of his weak limbs the sooner he got to leave. Going home meant getting away from nurses and doctors checking on him almost constantly. Except when Delancey was visiting. No one came in when she was there, as if they were satisfied she’d press the call button for him if he went down.
“I promise not to cheer,” Lexi said. “I won’t even offer encouragement if you don’t want it.”
When he still didn’t move or respond, she smiled. What should have been an attractive and happy face was instead a stubborn one that said she could and would wait him out.
“Fine.” Stubborn was easier for him to accept, but he didn’t completely trust her to not switch gears back into cheerleader mode. “Not a single cheer.”
“Promise.”
He ignored her hand and eased away from the bed. Skin, muscles and nerves protested the change in position by stretching, burning and tingling.
His breaths were ragged when he took his first step. The process wasn’t fast and smooth, which he’d come to expect.
“You good?”
“Fine.” Not that he’d admit any different and risk not getting to be discharged.
Lexi didn’t reach for him, but neither did she lower the hand she held out, palm up and ready to support him.
“Speed is less important than control, so take your time.”
“Damn. I was hoping to head to Boston for the next marathon.”
Concentrating on controlling the muscles that had suffered extensive damage, Logan took another step. His skin stretched and itched. His left thigh trembled more than the right, giving him a slight limp. He looked at Lexi’s hand and pretended it was Delancey’s. In his mind she reached up and rested her fingers on his forearm and the pain eased.
Lexi nodded like she was pleased as she opened the door and held it for him. The smell of the hospital invaded his senses as he stepped into the hall. The agony of the other patients in the unit, their screams and moans, were much more invasive in the hall than they were in his room with the heavy door closed.
Hearing it so close, thinking about himself being in that same state, shook his focus for a moment and had him wobbling. A woman sat in a chair outside a room, tears streaming down her face while tortured screams came from the room behind her. She looked at Logan, but only for a second before averting her gaze.
She cared for whoever was behind that door or she wouldn’t be on the unit. The wounds ripping at the woman’s world were obviously fresh and nothing made handling the burn unit better. It was possible she hadn’t meant anything by looking away so quickly. Possibilities failed to minimize the sting of rejection, and her averted gaze was a rejection.
It might be the first, but it wouldn’t be the last time he’d have to see someone turn away from him. That was the one good thing about his hospital room. There were no unprepared eyes to look at him.
Recovery is as much mental as it is physical, Delancey had warned. When your mind gets clouded and you feel weak, draw on the strength of a happy memory or sensation. It won’t be easy, but it’ll help.
Her melodic and hypnotic tone called to him on a spiritual level. The sensation had been foreign and grossly unsettling at first, but she’d walked him through a couple of purely mental exercises that he’d found himself doing in her absence. Almost instinctively his mind searched for lighter memories.
“How’d you like your lunch?” Lexi asked when they were almost halfway to the nurse’s station. Her hand still hovered in its waiting place in the air.
“Really good.” Today’s delivery had been a substantial serving of homemade lasagna with breadsticks and cheesecake on the side. “How does Delancey keep getting this food in? I haven’t seen a hospital tray since I woke up.”
“You aren’t complaining, are you?”
“No,” he said quickly. “Only curious who she had to bribe.”
Lexi’s cheerleader bright smile was back. “That’s the magic of Delancey. No bribes necessary. Not that she’ll admit to being the one cooking for you.”
“You known her long?”
“A year or so.” The tone of Lexi’s voice revealed more about Delancey than her actual words. Her kindness didn’t seem to be limited to the injured or sick. She had friends who wanted to help her, to break or at least stretch the rules. To have that she had to be as kind and generous as he’d suspected.
“And she asked you to get these deliveries to me.”
Lexi sh
rugged as they approached the nurse’s station. A dozen or so more steps divided him from the goal. His muscles were more than trembling. They were flat out protesting in bellowing volumes.
Close to meeting the doctor’s stipulations, he breathed as steadily as possible and lifted his right foot for the next step. His muscles quivered, barely raising his foot off the floor. His left leg wept with the effort of supporting him. He would definitely be taking a pain pill if he hoped to sleep tonight.
Four steps from the nurse’s station, Lexi’s hand lowered. Her palm was still up and open, but it rested at the side of her leg instead of near his elbow. It almost made Logan want to smile, but then she might accuse him of looking, or worse being, sweet.
Victory and relief assailed him when his hand touched the counter of the nurse’s station. Leaning against it, he eased all the weight possible off his left leg. Breathing was slightly easier, but the idea of walking back to his room awakened more muscular distress.
In no hurry to make the return trip, or give in and use a wheelchair, Logan stayed where he was. His gaze drifted to the woman outside the room down the hall. She hadn’t wanted to look at him, which made him think she’d struggle to face whoever was in the room. Yet, she was there. He’d have had no one if it hadn’t been for Delancey.
“Can I ask you something, Lexi?” Something he’d been trying to understand.
“Sure?”
“Why is Delancey doing all this for me?” It had to be something more than knowing what he was facing. “She has no reason to care.”
“I dare you to tell her that.”
“Was she a cheerleader too, or just a do-gooder?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“Her petiteness. Her popularity. Her ability to inspire people to give her what she wants. Her willingness to sacrifice her free time to come here and deal with me for no money.”
“That’s just who she is.”
“And that’s not an answer.”
After a quick swipe of her tongue over her lips Lexi said, “She wasn’t a cheerleader. She’s just a good friend. A great person.”