by Selena Blake
“Oh. Right.” He rubbed the ache in his forehead. “He mentioned that a while back.” But Greg had forgotten.
Gretchen handed him a pill. “Anyway, they said they’d be here this afternoon. I haven’t heard back from your dad yet and JJ hasn’t either.”
He saw the worry etched in her face and was touched by her concern.
“I’m sure he’s okay. I bet he just turned his phone off to preserve the battery,” he said.
“You’re not supposed to be comforting me,” she said and he heard the tease in her voice. “I’m on nurse duty. You’re playing the part of the patient. Here. Read the funnies.”
She handed him the full color comics section of the paper and returned to her breakfast.
“Thanks.”
She angled her head to look over at him. “You’re welcome.”
He doubted she knew everything he was thanking her for. For being there when he’d needed someone the most. A familiar face. A friendly smile. A strong back.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked a moment later, before starting on a new section.
“You.”
Her smile was sweet and she seemed to sink back against the pillows as if she was relishing his answer. After studying him for a long moment she chuckled and shook her head. Did she not believe him? Did she not understand that she was his only reason to smile right now?
“I think that pain medication has gone to your head,” she teased.
He wanted to correct her, to assure her that his feelings had nothing to do with the medication but she finished off her orange juice and turned to him. “Are you finished? Want anything else?”
“No. Thanks. That was perfect.” And the sooner the pain medication kicked back in, the better he’d be.
She plucked the tray from the bed and headed down the hall, giving him time to look at her room. It wasn’t terribly large and the furnishings were somewhat sparse. But he liked that she kept the dresser cleaned off and that she had a rocking chair in the corner. He could imagine her sitting there, reading a book with a blanket thrown over her legs.
The cream bedspread wasn’t the flowery concoction he’d expected. In fact, there wasn’t a flower in the space.
“How did I get to bed anyway? I remember falling asleep...”
“On the couch. You skipped dinner and went straight to bed. I didn’t want to wake you. You were sleeping so peacefully but better to rest in bed than on an old couch.”
“Your couch isn’t old. And it’s not that uncomfortable.”
“It’s old. Trust me. I picked them up at a thrift store and had them re-stuffed and recovered. Besides, you’re too tall to stretch out comfortably on them anyway.”
An orange and white cat hopped up on the bed and stretched, becoming the center of attention. He vaguely remembered being introduced the day before. Gretchen greeted the cat and scratched under its chin. The animal gazed up at her through squinted eyes, adoring every second of the affection.
Greg knew where the feline was coming from. He’d been on the receiving end of Gretchen’s touch enough in the last two days to know just how gentle and yet strong she was. How she was careful and take charge when she needed to be but sweet and funny all the time.
The cat gave up her post in front of Gretchen when she turned her attention to the paper again. Gizmo’s green eyes focused on Greg and gave him a long, thorough stare.
“Do you mind cats?” Gretchen asked.
“No.” Though he’d always considered himself more of a dog person.
“This one’s sweet as sugar. But don’t tell her I told you that. She thinks she can play it cool. But if you hold your hand out... See. Told you.”
Gizmo purred as she rubbed against Greg’s hand, practically tripping over herself with pent up affection.
“She acts like Cindy never loves on her, but I know different.”
The ball of fuzz snuggled up against his hip and propped a paw on his thigh. He petted her as she fell asleep, surprised at the tender feelings in his heart.
“She makes herself at home,” he murmured, feeling Gizmo’s purr vibrate against him.
“You must be warm.”
Even though she was perfectly in tune with the world around her Gretchen kept her focus on the crossword puzzle. He watched her, pencil tapping against her chin, as she searched for the right answers.
“Do you always complete the crossword puzzle?” he asked, relaxing against the pillows. Fighting the drowsiness was a losing battle.
“Sometimes. When I have the time. It’s actually been a quiet weekend for me.”
“You mean catering to a strange guy in your home wasn’t lively enough?”
She folded the paper and stuck the pencil behind her ear. “You’re not some strange guy, Greg. I’ve known you for, what, a decade?”
She sure did know how to cut to the chase. But he wasn’t sure he’d ever really known Gretchen. She’d always been there, in the periphery. A good friend to his sister, but letting others stand in the limelight. He was surprised to find that she wasn’t the mousy, quiet woman he’d assumed she was.
Standing next to Cindy and Baby, it was easy to see how anyone could be overshadowed. But out of their shadow she was talkative and funny, caring and even a little sassy now that he thought about it. Gretchen never fought for attention, she simply was.
“I’ve got some work to do. Do you want to take a nap, watch TV, finish the paper?” Again, she didn’t press but asked the question casually as she tidied the newspaper.
“I’m about to fall asleep anyway.”
“Pain pills can do that,” she said, crossing the room.
“And a warm kitty.” He stroked a hand down Gizmo’s back and the cat’s purr roared back to life. Gretchen was right, it did sound like a mini motorboat.
She grinned and then closed the door almost all the way, behind her. Whether to give Gizmo an escape or so that she could hear him if he needed her, Greg wasn’t sure. But as sleep claimed him, he knew he missed her steady presence by his side.
CHAPTER TWELVE
California
Trevor woke to the sound of Julia’s voice. He cracked open an eye and squinted into the early morning light. He felt drained. A busy few weeks of public appearances and meetings, not to mention three photo shoots, had kept them both busy. Hopping from city to city had its perks, but now that Julia was his fiancé and they had a house together he found himself wanting to spend more and more time alone with her, building a home.
A knock at the bedroom door nixed the idea of lounging in bed a while longer. He sat up and scrubbed a hand down his face. The fact that he still wore his boxers was a testament to how tired he was. Julia too. They hadn’t made love in a week. Not for lack of desire either. Simply a lack of time, energy and opportunity.
Greg’s accident had been a wakeup call for them both. It was time that they got back and spent some time with the people who really mattered.
Joe stood on the other side of the panelled door, already fresh faced and dressed. Trevor momentarily envied the guy’s ability to operate on a few hours’ sleep. But then that was probably a by-product of his training and years in the field, serving his country in truly heinous places. Trevor never asked for details. He didn’t need to know to appreciate Joe’s service. And he was damn glad to have the guy on his side, especially since he’d brought Julia into the crazy drama that was his life.
Joe nodded in that simple way of his that said so much. Good morning. I have news you should hear. Your ears only.
Three perfectly succinct ideas all wrapped in one quick tilt of the head.
Trevor glanced over his shoulder and watched Julia pace back and forth in the bathroom, cell phone pressed against her ear. It sounded like she was talking to Gretchen. Thank heavens for Gretchen or his fiancé would have been a basket case by now. She’d hadn’t dealt with anything so tragic and terrifying since her mom died. And certainly not from the other side of the country.
H
e stepped into the living room and closed the door behind him.
“The accident is unrelated,” Joe said.
Thank God. They’d both immediately wondered if Greg’s accident hadn’t been an accident at all, if Trevor’s latest stalker had kicked things up a notch and was targeting Julia’s family.
Trevor exhaled a breath. It felt like he’d been holding that in for two days. It was bad enough that he and Julia were targets but he simply couldn’t accept that their loved ones might be in the line of fire. He’d known what he’d been getting into. Somewhat. But he’d kept on, stepping into the limelight, taking sponsorships, having his picture taken. Julia, bless her, was along for the ride because they couldn’t stand to be apart. But their family? They hadn’t signed on for the craziness.
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in days.”
Neither of them had mentioned the idea that Trevor’s latest stalker might be connected to Greg’s accident to Julia. They agreed that there was no reason to worry her without more information. Not for the first time, Trevor was happy to have Joe on his team, along with Joe’s connections.
“I’ve already confirmed our flight back to Atlanta. The car will be here in forty five minutes.”
The door behind them opened and Julia stepped through. Trevor smiled at her, reassuring her that everything was okay. He hated that it seemed like something was always going on outside of their relationship, that there were outside forces threatening their happiness, and that of their family. She wasn’t the only one who’d read about the reporter who tracked his mother into the grocery last week, seeking details of Trevor & Julia’s wedding. Luckily, Joe recommended a guy to watch over Trevor’s mom until the fervor died down. One month. Would they make it?
“Good morning, Joe,” Julia said.
“Morning, Julia. The car will be here in forty five minutes.”
“We’ll be ready,” she promised even though they occasionally weren’t ready since they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. But Joe let it pass with little more than the slightest curve of the lips.
Joe nodded and headed across the suite to his bedroom.
Julia blew out a sigh and stalked into the closet. She returned a few seconds later with their rolling suitcases and he helped her put them on the padded bench at the end of the bed.
“How’s everything at home?” Trevor asked.
“As good as can be expected I guess.” She gave a small little shrug that wasn’t normal for her. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her close.
“Gretchen says he’s fine and you talked to him yourself. We’ll be there in six hours and you can see for yourself.” He kissed her temple, once again thanking his lucky stars that she’d walked into his cousin’s shoe store that week he’d filled in last autumn.
“I know.” The small sigh at the end of the sentence said it all.
“I know, baby.” He knew how close she and Greg were. They weren’t just step siblings. They were so close in age they were practically twins. They were also business partners. And the distance, the traveling with Trevor, didn’t help. It was hard to enjoy the luxury accommodations and the incredible views when you were worried about your family. He ought to know.
“I just want to hug him. You know? Then I’ll be sure. I just...the driver...” She broke off, not needing to say more. A simple car accident had become so much more serious since two of the three passengers had gone to the hospital. The third hadn’t been that lucky.
Perhaps he should have called off the past two days events and taken her home early.
“Don’t think about it, baby. Greg survived. We’ll mourn Peter properly when we get back home.” It felt great to say that. Home. Home with Julia. His life, his heart.
“You could take my mind off of it,” she whispered so softly he wasn’t sure he’d heard her correctly.
“How about you go take a quick shower while I pack up.” There were people to pack for them of course. But they liked their privacy. And with a stalker on the loose, Trevor didn’t trust anyone around his things except for the people within the walls of this suite.
“How about you come with me?” she countered, her head tipped back.
Her hair was long, sweeping over his hands where they massaged the knots between her shoulder blades.
“Julia Fairchild, have I ever told you you’re a vixen?”
“A time or two,” she smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes the way it normally did. The cute little creases in her cheeks were missing.
“Then I’d better get busy. We don’t want to miss our flight.”
He ducked his head as he cupped her cheeks. Their lips met in a sinfully sweet kiss. There was a sense of urgency, but also a slow, lingering quality that made his blood boil. He scooped her up and headed for the elegant bathroom. Stopping just outside the shower, he didn’t break the connection as he fumbled for the knobs. Water slushed across the tile floor and he blindly reached into the spray to test the heat. It was ice cold.
“You’re going to have to let me come up for air,” he whispered against her lips and she giggled. That was an improvement. She hadn’t laughed since she’d gotten word of Greg’s accident.
“You don’t want a cold shower?” she asked.
“You’re evil, you know that?”
“But you love me anyway.” She said the words with the confidence of a woman who knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that she was indeed loved and adored.
“Yes. I do.”
“Practicing your vows?” she asked as he adjusted the temperature.
As soon as a warm stream hit his hand, he ushered her into the spray. “I’m not going to need any practice.”
Of that he was sure. At one point in his life, several actually, he would have balked at the idea of marriage. He would have had cold feet and misgivings. But not with Julia. Loving her, living with her was as natural as breathing. He couldn’t wait to be her husband.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Greg woke to the sound of a mini motorboat. He stroked a hand down Gizmos back and the feline stretched, rolling onto her back before returning to snuggle against his left side. As usual, his body reminded him just what a rough couple of days he’d had. And though his head didn’t feel like it was being split in two by a meat cleaver there was still a distinct throbbing in his leg and shoulder. An overall ache stormed the rest of his body, just as the doctor said it would. Trauma, he’d said.
His stomach growled and he rolled his head to the right. According to the alarm clock, he’d slept the morning away. He should get something to eat, to keep his strength up. Then he needed to start on damage control. If his mind would let him focus, he needed to create a list of all the things he’d planned to get done this week. Not just on his clients’ projects but on his own renovation, and of course, JJ’s loft. But just thinking about the steady stream of to do items made him a little dizzy.
He pushed all thoughts of work out of his mind and carefully shifted until he was on his right side. He dropped his legs down over the edge of the bed and bit back a groan at the sharp, stabbing pain. Why had he thought this would be possible? Unless he was doped up on meds, getting in and out of bed or up and down off the couch was a chore best completed with help.
But he had too much pride to call out for help.
He gritted his teeth and used his left arm to push himself into somewhat of a sitting position. Rather than hold himself there and wait for the agony, he summoned his strength, rocked forward and stood. His vision swam for a moment and then righted itself. For just a second, he felt like his old self again.
After a pit stop at the bathroom he found Gretchen typing away in what looked like a home office. Where the tones in the rest of her home were neutral with careful pops of color, this space was crisp and bright. White walls bounced the light from a large picture window around the room. Bold dashes of brilliant pink and turquoise caught his attention as he took in the sleek desk and white daybed.
There was
a large grid of shelving against the far wall full of what looked like notepads, folders and magazines.
She must have caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, because she jumped, coming off the chair a good three inches. “Greg–”
Her voice was high and startled. He hobbled forward on the crutches, hating the way they jarred his shoulders and apologized for scaring her.
“It’s okay. I’m just used to being alone. How are you feeling?”
“There was a second there where I felt normal again.”
She turned in the white and silver desk chair. “Didn’t last, huh?”
“Nope.”
Two more steps carried him to the center of the room where he could get a better look at her space. Somehow this room seemed the most like the Gretchen he was coming to know. Not the carefully restrained woman he’d thought he’d known. The woman who chose tan walls, khaki fabric for her sofas. But bright and unexpected. Colorful.
“What are you working on?” He peered past her to look at the monitor. A bold blue design filled the screen. There was a yellow monogram in the middle.
She hopped up and waved a hand toward the daybed. “I’ll tell you if you’ll sit down. You need all the rest you can get.”
As soon as she’d helped him get settled she stood back and looked down at him. He sensed that she had more that she wanted to say but was keeping herself carefully in check. Somewhere in the course of the last thirty six hours he’d developed an almost sixth sense where she was concerned. She didn’t like him wearing himself out. But he knew that if he continued to get help he’d need it longer. He was walking a fine line of letting his body heal and keeping himself strong.
“You must be hungry. I had a sandwich. Nothing fancy.” She stepped across the teal and cream rug and grabbed a big bowl from her desk. “I didn’t want to wake you.”
She handed him the bowl without explanation. It was filled with several kinds of potato chips. Popular brands of cheesy and cool corn chips, onion and sour cream, barbeque, and what he assumed was vinegar. An interesting combination. One he’d never seen before.