Charlie picked up where he left off before Jonah could work up any sort of deflection. “And Natalie has answered all of our texts—and believe me when I say, we each sent more than one or two—with the exact same reply. ‘I’m fine’.” More air quotes, and yeah, that sounded like Natalie.
Tess took the conversational baton and ran. “And you’ve been moping around this hospital all day long, looking like someone stole your puppy and smelling like a goddamn distillery.”
“I don’t smell like a distillery,” Jonah argued, but oh, it was the low-hanging fruit. Also, probably not true.
“Dude,” Connor said, brows arched. “You have Maker’s Mark coming out of your pores. For real.”
“Fine.” Jonah rolled his eyes. “But I didn’t treat any patients today. Just caught up on case notes.”
“So, you’re seriously not going to tell us what’s going on with Natalie?” Tess asked. “And do not—do not—insult me by saying nothing is going on, or I will have to harm that very pretty face of yours.”
Jonah exhaled, shoving his hands into his pockets. The three of them weren’t going to stop until they had some answers. He might not be able to tell them the whole story, but he could air out enough to get them off his back. Plus, they already knew he and Natalie had been more than friends.
“She broke up with me and moved out last night,” he said, the words feeling like bits of glass between his teeth.
For a second, Tess, Charlie, and Connor simply stared at him. The big man regained his wits first. “Are you kidding me?”
Jonah’s laugh lacked all joy. “Do I look like I’m kidding you?”
Connor’s hands went up in apology. “Fair enough. It’s just that you guys are…well…”
“You,” Charlie finished.
“Okay, wait,” Tess said, too shrewd for her own damn good. “That only explains the moping. Why would she break up with you? She was walking around here looking like that emoji with the hearts for eyes just a couple of days ago.” Her stare sharpened over Jonah. “Did you piss her off?”
“No,” he said, jamming a hand through his hair. “It’s…complicated.”
“Complicated enough that she’s taking a leave of absence?” Charlie asked. “That doesn’t make any sense unless—”
Charlie’s spine straightened at the same time Tess’s did, the latter giving Jonah a look that said he was going to have to plead the fifth really fucking soon. “Oh, my God. Her cancer is back, isn’t it?”
Jonah hesitated. As badly as he wanted to say something, if only so Natalie’s friends could know enough to support her, this wasn’t his story to tell. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to,” Connor said, and Charlie nodded in agreement.
“That woman is crazy for you like I’m crazy for Parker. The only thing that would make her break up with you is something that drastic. Trust me. I know.”
Jonah remembered what Charlie had sacrificed in order for Parker to keep his internship, and yeah. She wasn’t wrong about drastic measures.
Still, he couldn’t betray Natalie’s confidence. When she was ready for their friends to know her cancer had returned, she’d tell them. Until then… “If you want to know about Natalie’s health, you have to ask her.”
Something that looked an awful lot like respect flickered through Tess’s stare. “Okay, so let’s talk about this breakup, then. I’m going to go out on a limb and assume it was one-sided.”
“Definitely,” Jonah said. At least there was one thing he could shout from the goddamn rooftops.
“And you’re as crazy for her as she is for you,” Charlie said, and once again, Jonah nodded.
“I really am.”
“But she’s pushing you away because she’s doing that Natalie thing where she says she’s totally fine, only this time, she’s not so fine,” Tess said.
It was a little too close to admitting that Natalie was sick, so Jonah arched a brow and stayed quiet, but all three of them made the logic leap well enough.
Charlie tilted her head. “So, you want her back.”
“Yes,” Jonah said, and God, it was a massive understatement. “I want to be with Natalie more than anything, and I think she wants to be with me, too. She’s just…not used to letting anyone have her back.”
“Dude.” Connor’s face brightened, his goofy smile returning in all its glory. “You need a grand gesture!”
Jonah blinked. “I need a what, now?”
Connor heaved a twenty-pound sigh. “A grand gesture. You know, a big-deal, slightly crazy way of showing her you dig her and you want to be with her no matter how hard things get.” He looked at Jonah, then Charlie and Tess, before throwing his hands into the air. “Seriously, don’t any of you read the books I leave in the lounge?”
“I do!” Charlie and Tess chorused, although Tess seemed to go a little red at the question.
“Connor’s right,” Charlie said, turning toward Jonah. “If you want to get Natalie back, you’re going to have to go all-in.”
“You can’t just go barging in on her, all pushy and stuff, either,” Connor said sagely. “There’s a huge difference between a grand gesture and something that deserves a restraining order.”
Jonah opened his mouth to tell them there was no hope. He’d already told Natalie how he felt. He’d told her he wanted to be there, to carry her when she needed strength and to help her get healthy again, and she’d left anyway.
But then he stopped. Natalie hadn’t walked away because she didn’t care for him. She’d walked away because she did. That meant there was still hope.
And if there was one thing Jonah could do, it was hope.
After all, he’d learned from the best.
“Okay,” he said, his first smile in over twenty-four hours tugging at the corners of his mouth as a plan started taking shape in his head. “If a grand gesture is what I need, then a grand gesture is what I’m going to make.”
30
Natalie sat in the kitchen at her parents’ house, a cup of tea between her palms that she had no intention of drinking. It had made her mom feel better to brew it for her, though, so Natalie had given in when her mom had asked if she’d wanted any. She’d run out of tears a few hours ago, falling into a deep, dreamless nap after her mom had left her room.
The sleep might’ve helped her throbbing head and puffy eyes, but it had done jack shit for her broken heart.
“Stop,” Natalie whispered, rubbing a hand over the front of her nightshirt, which she’d paired with a pair of plaid flannel pajama pants for the sake of modesty. She needed to forget about Jonah, once and for all, no matter how little she wanted to.
A buzzing sound captured her attention from the counter by the coffeepot. She’d left her cell phone down here so she could ignore it—Langston must have announced her leave of absence, which had triggered a landslide of texts and emails asking about her well-being. Her colleagues were concerned, she knew, but she wasn’t ready to tell the whole universe about her cancer yet. Still, Jeff had mentioned reaching out to a couple of hospitals running clinical trials, to see if she was a good candidate for one of them. She should probably check to make sure he hadn’t called.
The text that had just come in flashed across her screen, marked 9-1-1. It was from Tess.
Hey. I need you. It’s urgent.
Natalie’s heart pumped out a heavy dose of dread, and she answered automatically.
What’s the matter? Is Jackson okay?
Tess had sworn the second her son was born that if he ever needed a surgical procedure, no one would touch him but Natalie.
He’s fine, came the quick reply. But I need you to come to the front door.
Natalie’s brows popped. What? How did she even know where Natalie was?
I know, I know. Just trust me. Please?
Natalie sighed. The truth was, she knew she wouldn’t be able to dodge Tess and Charlie forever. Jonah had probably told them she was staying with her parents—Tess w
as frighteningly persuasive, and Charlie was no slouch, either. If they wanted to find her badly enough, they’d do it.
Clearly.
“Okay, okay,” she said a second later when a knock sounded off on the front door. “Jeez, you guys. You didn’t have to—”
She opened the door and her lips parted on a soundless gasp. Tess was there, and Charlie, too. So were Connor and Parker and Mallory.
And Jonah stood right in the middle.
“I know we’re—I’m—sort of blindsiding you with all of this.” He gestured to their friends, all of whom were holding bags of various sizes and throwing Natalie for the biggest loop of her life. “And I’m sorry for that. If you really, truly don’t want to see me, I’ll go. But I’d really like it if you’d hear me out for just five minutes.”
She didn’t say anything—couldn’t, really, with the way her head and her heart were both screaming two different answers—and Jonah took her silence as a sign to proceed.
“I tried to come up with the right words to tell you what you mean to me, but then I realized it would be better to actually show you. So”—he turned to Mallory, who handed over the bag he’d been holding, and Jonah pulled out a clear plastic takeout container and handed it over to her—“I want to give you the last bite of cheesecake,” he said, and oh, God. Oh, God.
Sure enough, the box contained one bite-sized piece of cheesecake, and Natalie’s hands began to shake.
Jonah turned toward Connor, who handed over his bag. “I want to laugh when you’re happy,” Jonah said, pulling out a Blu-ray copy of When Harry Met Sally and handing it over.
“Jonah,” she whispered, her voice catching, but he shook his head.
“And I want to ache when you’re sad,” he added, taking the bag Charlie and Parker had handed over together and giving her the box of tissues inside.
Which was probably smart, considering the bag Tess handed over contained a small box containing a gold heart locket so beautiful, tears sprang to Natalie’s eyes.
“I want to be more than two halves making a whole,” Jonah said, popping the locket open, and Tess quietly stepped in to take everything out of Natalie’s hands and lead the rest of the group away from the front step.
Jonah pressed the two sides of the locket back together and held it out to her. “I want to be two wholes making something bigger. Something only the two of us can make. I want you.”
“Jonah,” she tried again. “I have cancer.”
“I know,” he said. “But you also have a strong treatment plan and the very best doctors. And you have a one hundred-percent success rate with beating this disease.”
Natalie’s resolve wavered. But she couldn’t hurt him. She couldn’t. “I’ve had all that before. It doesn’t mean I’m going to beat it again.”
“Oh, yes it does,” he told her, stepping in until he was so close, she could feel the heat of his body, right there in front of her. “Because this time you also have me, and I have enough hope for both of us. I need you, Nat. I need to be here for you no matter what. I need you to fight and beat this cancer like we both know you’re going to and live a good, long, happy life with me, because you’re the only person in the world who can make me a long-haul guy. I don’t care if there are risks, and I don’t care if there are tough times that mix in with the good. I want you, Natalie. I love you.”
Jonah slid his fingers over her cheek, and that was when she realized she was crying.
“Happily ever after isn’t always easy. But you are my happily ever after. You are the best fucking thing about me, and I am not letting you let me go. So, if you could just let me love you, and carry me while I carry you—”
“Yes.”
“Really?” he asked, blinking twice.
Natalie laughed, and oh, it felt so good. “God, yes. Did you really think I could say no to that? It’s even better than a rom com ending.”
“Well, I was aiming for a grand gesture, so I kinda went big. But in case you haven’t noticed, you’re a tiny bit stubborn, and you don’t like letting people take care of you.”
“In this case, I can make an exception.”
He lifted his brows, his smile growing wide. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m still scared, and I’m sorry I hurt you by walking away. But I promised I’d always be here, so yes, I’ll carry you while you carry me. I love you, too, Jonah. God, I love you so freaking much.” She stepped into his arms as if it was the only place she’d ever belonged. “And in order to kick cancer’s ass—again, like we both know I’m going to—I’m going to need a little help.”
“Whatever you need, sweetheart. Name it, and it’s yours.”
Natalie pressed up on her toes, brushing her lips over his in a soft, sweet kiss. “Actually, that last bite of cheesecake looked pretty good.”
“Done,” he said, but she shook her head.
“How about we split it?”
Jonah laughed, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, and Natalie’s chest filled with hope.
“That sounds perfect.”
EPILOGUE
Three weeks later
CONNOR BRADSHAW WAS WAITING for a disaster. Which was more status-quo than stressful, considering he’d been trained to the teeth as an Air Force flight medic and worked in a Level I trauma center for the past four years, but he wasn’t about to bitch, regardless. Cars crashed. People harmed each other. Health failed in dozens of different directions. Bad things happened, and as much as Connor hated that little nugget of truth, he’d learned the hard way that there was no getting around it. But if he could help people through the worst moments of their lives instead?
He was going to be down every single time. No matter how big the disaster, or how bloody the aftermath.
He’d survived worse.
“Listen up, cats and kittens, because this one is gonna test your stamina.” Tess turned to look at the group of docs huddled against the cold in Remington Mem’s ambulance bay. Jonah, Drake, Mallory, Vasquez (standing as far as possible from Mallory)…damn, whatever patients were incoming had to be in pretty rough shape for all this firepower to be out here, waiting. Usually the nurses met the ambos for triage and handoff from paramedics—especially in January.
Connor’s adrenaline tapped out the Morse code equivalent of hey-how-are-ya in his veins, and he pulled in a slow breath to let it know he was juuuuust fine, thanks. He was hardly a fucking rookie. No way was he going to let his physiology tank his ability to help the patients coming in on this call. Not when they were clearly going to need all the help they could get.
Tess elbowed her way into the trauma gown that matched the ones the rest of them had donned as they’d been pulled from various tasks to handle the incoming call. “Dispatch has multiple traumas from a car wreck headed our way, ETA five minutes. At least one thoracic crush injury, a couple of penetrating lacerations, and a traumatic leg injury—that’s yours, Mallory—plus possible head and neck injuries all around,” she said. “I want fast assessments and faster treatment. No one’s dying on my watch today. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Connor’s response stuck out a little in the chorus of yeses and echoed-back “got it”s, but he was hardly apologetic. The Air Force had made a lot of things second nature in his life, and he was grateful as hell for each of them. After all, the six years he’d spent there before he’d landed at Remington Mem hadn’t just taught him how to take care of people who needed it.
They’d also taught him to hide in plain sight.
Spine straightening, he stuffed the thought back into its usual hidey hole and forced himself back into the here and now. The part of a trauma that could freak a person out the most was waiting for the patients to arrive—all that what-if, flying around and fritzing out your circuitry—so Connor decided to fill the time the best way he knew how. Christ, but humor was better than Kevlar some days.
He looked at Jonah and grinned. “Hey, man. Other than being your better half, how’s Dr. K?” he asked. “Yo
u gave her my care package, right?”
JONAH’S entire demeanor changed in a blink at the mention of Natalie, his smile so big it was like a third person in the conversation. God, the dude had it so bad. It was awesome. “Romance novels and mini-Bundt cakes from Sweetie Pies? Really, man?”
“She loved it, didn’t she?” Connor’s grin broadened. The woman was going through chemo, for fuck’s sake. She deserved the very best.
“She did,” Jonah admitted. “Although I’m pretty sure Tess swiped that one book with your buddy on the cover. When she came to visit the other day, she and Nat were giggling over it.”
Connor bit back a snort. Declan would probably shit twice and die if he heard that—dude hated the spotlight, enough that his face was rarely ever in the photos on those book covers, and Connor made a mental note to shoot the guy a text this week to check in. “So, the first round of chemo went okay?”
“Actually, it did,” Jonah said with genuine enthusiasm. “She’s responding even better than Wells expected, and she’s keeping busy with research and ideas for future trials—”
“Go, Dr. K,” Connor interjected, because she really must be responding well if she was able to work during treatments. Of course, Connor was sure Jonah kept close tabs on her, anyway. God, he loved a happy ending.
Jonah laughed. “Once her treatments are done and she gets a clean bill of health, she’ll be back to work,” he said with confidence. “It’s a marathon, not a sprint, though. For now, she’s spending a few days with Rachel and Annabelle. They came up for a quick visit in between Annabelle’s treatments.”
Connor brightened. Man, that kid was cute enough to be unfair. “Yeah? Annabelle’s well enough to travel, then?”
“She is,” Jonah confirmed, taking his cell phone out of his pocket and swiping his way through a couple of pictures. “There are precautions, of course. They skipped the airport and road-tripped it instead. But Annabelle is making huge strides in that clinical trial in Tampa. She wanted to come give Natalie some moral support now that she’s got that first round of chemo under her belt.”
Better Than Me (A Remington Medical Contemporary Romance) Page 29