“Hi,” she said, reaching out and covering his hand.
The feeling of her touch, the softness of her skin was so soothing that he almost forgot everything he’d just remembered. It felt like those memories were slipping away and he was going to float back to another space and time if he didn’t do something.
His throat was drier than the Sahara but he managed to ask, “Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” She let out a forced laugh as she touched her hand to her chest. “I’m fine. I wasn’t the one who was shot.”
“I was shot?” As soon as he asked the question he remembered the searing pain he’d felt in his shoulder when a cop tried to arrest him.
“Yes. In the shoulder.”
“Am I…” He looked down and saw that he wasn’t in handcuffs. He looked around the room and didn’t see any uniformed police. “Did I get arrested?”
“No.” Leah shook her head. “When the cops first came in they saw you with the gun and tried to arrest you, but I stopped them.”
“Where’s…the…guy…?” His voice was getting caught in his throat.
“Here.” She picked up a plastic pitcher and poured the contents in a plastic cup with a straw in it then held it to his mouth. “Drink.”
He did and the cool liquid soothed his scratchy throat.
“Better?” She asked.
He nodded and she put the cup down.
“The guy?” he asked. “What happened to the guy?”
“He’s in jail. The police arrested him. It was Martin Watts, Rebecca’s ex.”
“What?!” Lance tried to sit up but hot pain shot through his arm.
“Don’t!” Leah shouted. “Just lay there. I’ll sit you up.”
She pushed a button on a remote control and the top portion of the bed lifted up.
“Is that good?” she asked when he was upright.
“Yeah. How did he know where you live?”
“I’m not sure. All I know is that he went to the store to try and get Thor back, and he overheard Bea saying that we’d just got back from dropping him off. He showed up at the house to get me to tell him where she was.”
“And you’re okay? He didn’t hurt you?”
“Yes, I’m fine. You were the hero once again,” she smiled before her eyes widened. “Oh, shit, I forgot. I was supposed to…” Leah trailed off as she lifted her phone.
He closed his eyes, taking the moment to rest. Now that he knew Leah was okay, he needed to rest.
“He’s awake,” he heard Leah’s voice. “Yep. Hold on.”
“Lance, someone wants to talk to you.”
He opened his eyes and saw Leah holding her phone so that the screen was turned toward him. His eyes were still a little blurry and before they focused he heard his nonna’s voice, “Lance?”
As the picture became clear he saw a close-up image of Nonna’s eyes and forehead filling Leah’s screen. She was squinting and leaning toward her own camera. She still hadn’t quite mastered Facetime.
“Yeah it’s me Nonna.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“Good, because if you die, I’m going to kill you.” She teased as a tear fell down her wrinkled chin.
“I’m not going to die,” he assured her.
“Do I need to come there? You know I hate flying but I will. I can ask Charise Lemon to take over for me at bingo. And Wanda Parks can do my Zumba Gold class. And—”
“No. I’m fine. You don’t need to come here.”
“Are you sure? What did the doctors say?”
Lance hadn’t spoken to the doctors and actually had no idea if he was okay. He looked up at Leah who gave him a thumb’s up. “I haven’t talked to them yet today, but I’ll call you after I do.”
“Yes, yes. You rest!” She instructed firmly. “I love you! Now, let me talk to Leah.”
“I love you, too.”
Leah’s lips were curled in at the edges as she turned the phone around so that the screen was facing her.
“Hi, Fancy Face,” his nonna greeted her.
Wow. Nonna already had a nickname for Leah. And not just any nickname. She was using one from her favorite soap opera, Days of Our Lives. Not only that, but her favorite couple. Bo called Hope “Fancy Face.”
“Hi, Nonna.”
“Now, you listen to me. Don’t let Lance bully you around. He doesn’t like taking help from people. He hates it. He’s been that way since he was a kid. I remember when he broke his arm and leg when he was seven after falling off a roof he and his friends were playing on. It was the longest six weeks of my life. I tried to take care of him and he fought me all the way. He was determined to do everything himself. But he couldn’t. You should’ve seen the fuss he put up every time I had to help him get dressed or use the bathroom.”
“I can still hear you, Nonna,” he said, but his voice was weak.
Nonna was quiet for a moment, before he heard her say, “You have my permission to whack him with a newspaper if he’s being too difficult. That’s how we trained our dogs, and they were even more stubborn than him.”
Leah chuckled down at her screen. “I don’t think it will come to whacking, but I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Oh, Betty Fisher just knocked on my door. I know she’s only here to talk about the time her son was shot in the line of duty and how he was awarded the Purple Heart. If I have to hear her describe what she was wearing the day he got it, I swear. Coming!” Nonna called out midstory. “I have to go dear. You call and let me know how he’s doing or if you need anything.”
“I will. Bye, Nonna.”
“Bye, Fancy Face.”
Leah set her phone down and shook her head. “She’s a trip. I love her.”
Lance smiled. “I think she loves you, too.”
The moment he said the word love, the energy in the room crackled with the ever-present chemistry that he and Leah shared when they looked into each other’s eyes. Lance knew that he’d only been talking about Nonna, but it felt like more than that. It felt like he’d just proclaimed his love for her. Lance wanted to tell Leah what he felt about her, but he knew that he couldn’t. Not now. Not lying in a hospital bed.
But he wanted to.
He opened his mouth—to say what, he wasn’t sure—but before any words came out there was a knock at the door and two cops walked in.
Leah stood up. “He just woke up. I called his grandma and was about to let you know.”
“Okay, no problem.” The taller officer nodded his head before looking at Lance and introducing himself. “I’m Detective Reese and this is my partner Detective Wen. Do you feel up to answering a few questions?”
“Sure.” Lance wasn’t a huge fan of talking to cops and his memory was hazy, at best. But he knew that he wanted Martin Watts put away for a very long time, and if he could help, he would.
“Can you give us the room, Ms. Porter?” Wen said to Leah.
Leah started to leave, but Lance reached out and grasped her hand.
“She can stay.” He didn’t want her going anywhere. If it were up to him she’d never leave his side.
“Actually, we need to interview you alone,” Reese explained.
“I’ll just be down the hall.” Leah squeezed his hand. “As soon as they’re done, I’ll be back.”
He nodded, and she walked out of the room. She looked tired and he wondered if she’d been here all night, or day? He wasn’t even sure how long he’d been there. But he knew that waking up to Leah was all that mattered. She was all that mattered.
* * *
As Leah walked out of Lance’s room into the hallway she couldn’t help but glance back over her shoulder. Lance was propped up in his bed listening as the officers began to interview him, her heart squeezed. She wished that she could stay with him. She wanted to be by his side during the interview. Was he a grown man who was more than capable of taking care of himself? Sure. But that didn’t matter. She wanted to protect him, to support him, to
be his person.
She’d been at the hospital for the past sixteen hours. Doc and Kitty had gone home after Lance made it out of surgery with flying colors. The doctor said that everything went better than expected. They’d removed the bullet with “limited damage.” The doctor had explained that he’d be in and out of consciousness for a while and everyone should go home and get some rest.
Doc had insisted on taking Kitty home, since she was still recovering from her fall and surgery. Bea and CJ had stayed for a few hours after that, but once Lance was put in his own room and Leah could sit with him, she’d convinced them to go home. As much as she’d appreciated their support, she’d just wanted to be with Lance. Alone.
She hadn’t wanted to try to put on a brave face, or make small talk. Even with Bea. She’d just wanted to be with Lance.
When he’d opened his eyes, she realized she hadn’t really trusted the doctors that he would. She’d let out a breath she’d been holding since she looked down and saw the blood on her chest.
It had been a harrowing experience, but she’d been more terrified waiting to hear news about Lance when he was in surgery than she’d been when Martin Watts was pointing a gun in her face.
It had all been a lot for her body to process and she was starting to feel the effects of it. As she walked toward the elevator her head spun and she got tunnel vision, the world around her narrowed to a pinpoint.
She reached for something to grab onto and thankfully found the handrail. She closed her eyes, waiting for the dizzy spell to pass.
“Well, hello there, young lady.”
Leah opened her eyes and saw Grandpa J standing in front of her. He wasn’t her grandpa. Technically, he only had one grandchild in town. Her name was Sophie and she owned Tempting, the lingerie shop two doors down from Barks, Balls & Bellyrubs. But he treated anyone under the age of sixty like they were one of his “kids.”
Men referred to him as Colonel, which was his rank in the military, and the women all called him Grandpa J. He volunteered at the hospital and Leah was always happy to see him.
She smiled but Grandpa J did not. His silver brows pulled together in concern. “Young lady, you’re as white as a sheet. I think you better sit down.”
Leah nodded, unable to speak. In the span of just a few minutes, all of the energy had drained from her body. She felt like a rag doll as Grandpa J ushered her to a small waiting room off the hall.
When she lowered down into a chair he asked, “Do you want me to get someone to come take a look at you?”
“No. I’m fine.” She’d hit a wall. That was it. She’d found out in college, the hard way, that she could run on adrenaline for spurts of time but then she’d crash. “I haven’t really eaten or slept in over twenty-four hours.”
Grandpa J stood abruptly. “I’ll be right back. Stay here,” he commanded firmly.
She started to tell him that she wasn’t going anywhere even if she wanted to, but instead of forming words a weak nod was all she was able to communicate. Leah closed her eyes as exhaustion enveloped her. So much had happened in such a short amount of time and it was finally catching up with her.
After what could’ve been a minute or twenty—Leah had no sense of time in her current state—she heard Grandpa J’s voice.
“Here you go.”
Opening her eyes, she saw that he’d brought a banana, orange juice, a bottle of water, and crackers. She took them and sipped the orange juice.
“Were you here visiting Doc and Kitty’s boy?”
“Lance, yeah. He saved my life.” She took another sip of the cold, delicious tart liquid.
“I heard about that. How are you holding up?”
People kept asking her that, but she didn’t know why. Lance was the one that almost got killed, and it was her fault. “I’m fine.”
Grandpa J stared at her with a look that told her he wasn’t buying what she was selling.
“I am. Really,” she maintained even as tears started rolling down her cheeks.
He lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder and she melted into him. She laid her head on his shoulder and cried. Not a sweet, cute-faced, rom-com cry. No, she ugly cried. An emotional pipe had burst and she was incapable of shutting down the main line.
She cried for Rebecca and Owen, who’d spent years in an abusive environment.
She cried for Bea, who’d lost Jordan a month before their wedding.
She cried for Lance, who’d made one bad decision when he was a kid, which cost him eight years of his life.
She cried for Thor, who’d spent a month on the streets looking for his boy. She cried for herself, for falling in love with a man that was totally unavailable.
When Leah’d spoken to Lance’s nonna earlier, it was because she’d called on Lance’s phone and Leah’d answered it. Nonna’d told her that she was calling to see if Lance was on his way. Apparently, he’d told her the night before, right after he finished his tattoo that he was coming home. If he hadn’t gotten shot, he’d have been halfway to the sunshine state by now.
Leah didn’t know why finding that out had bothered her so much. He’d already postponed leaving to go on the road trip with her. Why wouldn’t he plan to leave when he got home from the road trip? It made perfect sense, but Leah felt like it was a betrayal. A rejection. She knew her feelings weren’t rational. But that didn’t change them.
And right now, Grandpa J was the recipient of all that pent up despair. Once she’d cried herself out, she leaned back and Grandpa J handed her a handkerchief.
“Thank you.” She wiped her face and blew her nose. “Sorry about your shirt.” She motioned to the large wet stain that she’d left.
“Oh don’t worry about that. Cotton dries and so do eyes.”
She grinned as she let out a cleansing sigh. She’d never been a huge fan of crying. She’d never understood when people said that they just needed a good cry. But now she did. She felt better. Lighter.
But she still felt a little self-conscious about the outpouring (literally) of emotion. She let out a puff of breath. “I don’t know where that all came from. I never do that. I’m not a crier.” Or at least she hadn’t been before Lance came into her life. Now it seemed like her tear ducts were constantly leaking.
“You know my Marie used to say, crying is as important as laughing. They both cleanse the soul.”
Leah never met Marie, but she felt like she knew her because Grandpa J talked about her all the time. She and Grandpa J had been childhood sweethearts. They’d been married for over sixty years before she passed away and he came to live with his family in Harper’s Crossing.
“Marie sounds like a very wise woman.”
“Oh, she was. I still don’t know what I did right in my life to deserve her. Her ending up with me doesn’t make a lick of sense. But I thank God every day that he let her be mine.”
Even in his eighties, Grandpa J had women lining up to get his attention. Margie and Mabel, the M&M sisters, moved from Chicago to Harper’s Crossing just to be close to him. Mrs. Daly stopped walking on the track at the high school and started walking on the path next to the river walk every morning in hopes that she’d run into him. “I’m sure she felt the same way about you.”
“I don’t know about that.” A wistful smile lifted on his face. “But I do remember when we used to go to the county fair, I’d ask her what prize she wanted me to win her. She used to look up at me with those sparkling baby blues and tell me that she’d already won the best prize in any county. Then she’d lift up on her tiptoes and give me a smooch.” Grandpa J’s eyes grew damp and Leah felt bad that she’d hijacked his handkerchief. “That’s when you know you got the real thing. When both people feel like they won the lotto.”
“Oh!” Bea exclaimed as she came around the corner with a large bag from Don Cuco’s. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you. I brought you some dinner.”
Leah knew one thing for sure, she’d won the sister lotto. As for her and Lance, she
guessed only time would tell. Unfortunately, she wasn’t a very patient person.
Chapter 25
The pain in Lance’s shoulder was very real as he made his way up the porch, returning to the scene of the crime. He noticed that Leah’s door was still damaged, and he made a mental note to fix it before he left.
The fear that he’d felt the last time he’d been on that porch, when he’d heard that asshole say that he was going to kill her came flooding back to him.
Leah’s safe, he reminded himself. Martin had shot him, not her.
Hindsight being twenty-twenty, he was grateful that he’d been shot. If not for his injury, he would’ve probably killed Martin Watts. He’d seen red when he’d heard Leah’s scream. And even though he didn’t think that man deserved to draw breath, he knew it wasn’t his place to end him. Besides the legal ramifications, that wasn’t something that he needed on his conscious.
Leah walked slowly beside him, allowing him to set the pace. Her arm was wrapped firmly around him and her beautifully curvy body was pressed against the length of his side as she worked to support him.
Once she got the door open, she shepherded him over to the couch and continued to hold onto him as he sat down. He winced as he lowered himself, and then had to smile a little at the way she bit her lip with anxiety in response.
“Okay, now. I realize it hurts, but I’ve got to get your shirt off so I can take a look at your bandage. The doctor said to check it when we got home and make sure that the activity hadn’t caused one of the stitches to pop.”
He leaned back against the couch cushions as her fingers worked efficiently at the buttons of his shirt. Once she’d gotten them all undone, she pushed the fabric back over his shoulder. She was leaned forward, giving him a perfect view down her shirt.
Fuck, there was just something so sexy about her cleavage—and this was coming from someone who’d seen her bare breasts… Hell, who’d seen her bare—everything—for that matter. But the clothes she chose and the way she carried herself in them were just incredibly tantalizing. An extension of the way she not only felt comfortable in, but celebrated her own skin.
Just One Look - Leah and Lance (Crossroads Book 15) Page 22