by KB Winters
“I’m sorry for your loss, Shae. I know it doesn’t do a damn thing to help, but I hate that anyone else has to feel this way.”
He flashed a smile that made me happy I was sitting down because it was a knee-capper, the kind of smile that took a woman’s legs right from under her. “Thanks for that, Ivy. I’m glad your brother is all right.”
“Me too. I just hope I can find a way to stop pushing him away with my own fears.” I let out another sigh and gave him a shaky smile, still a little chagrined that I told him about me and my worries.
“You’ll find a way.”
He said it with a smile that did things to my body, things it had no right to do when I was so worried about Ian. And now Shae.
“Yeah, how do you know that?”
He shrugged. “Because I do. You have a vibe about you, Ivy.”
“Knock, knock.” A tall man stood in the doorway wearing an expensive suit and a suspicious expression on his handsome face. His glance bounced from Shae to me. When he stepped inside, I could see that he looked like a slightly older version of Shae.
“Am I interrupting?”
He had a no-nonsense tone that told me I was the one who was interrupting. It had me on my feet and casting an apologetic glance down at Shae. “Nope. Thanks for listening Shae. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
He flashed a panty-melting grin my way and took my hand. “Thanks for saving me, Ivy. And you can come back anytime, to talk to me or just to look at me. My face is getting better every single day.”
I laughed as my hand slipped from his and waved. “I might take you up on that offer. Get better soon and that’s an order!”
I left his room with a smile that some would say was inappropriate, considering Ian was still laid up with a leg broken in multiple places and looking at an indefinite hospital stay and more surgery. I wasn’t ready to face him yet though, so I kept on toward the exit and went home for a bath and a change of clothes.
A place I could worry and cry and scream my head off if I wanted to without offending anyone else.
Chapter Six
Shae
My eyes stayed glued to the round curve of Ivy’s ass until she turned out of my sight to go about her day, and I turned my attention to my older brother.
“Who’s the little hottie?” Eamon asked, as he also inspected her disappearing curves.
My brows quirked. “Should a man in your position even notice how hot she is?”
He grinned. “I’m in love with my woman, but I’m not blind.”
I knew he’d deny it until he was blue in the face, but whenever Eamon spoke about his woman, Layla, his whole face lit up in a way I couldn’t remember seeing since we were kids. When our Mom was still alive.
Eamon was like a dog with a bone. He wouldn’t let it go. “Who is she?”
I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t get out of it. “That hottie,” I nodded toward the door Ivy’d just sashayed out of, “is the good Samaritan who saved my life. She was outside when Frank and Gio dumped me in the parking lot.”
Eamon walked up to my bed and sat down in the chair Ivy had just vacated. “Shit, did she get a good ID on either of them?” He shot his cuffs and adjusted his tie, smoothing it down the front of his designer shirt like he was about to call a board meeting to order. Eamon was in business mode, which meant the fucking Milanos should be scared as fuck. After kidnapping Layla, Eamon was out for blood, but spilling the blood of a Connelly? He was out to destroy them. We took our family oath and our family business seriously, which meant we avenged anyone who spilled a drop of our blood.
I matched his dark stare, and repeated Ivy’s detailed account of my dumping in the parking lot. “Her description of Frank matches what I’ve been able to recover of my memories. Gio was there too, that little fucking shit. I owe him an ass whooping for the ages, Eamon.”
“And you’ll get it. Pine boxes, remember?”
“How could I forget? I’m just waiting for the doctor to give me the all clear.” Even before I finished my words, Eamon leaped up from his chair, hovering over my bed, pushing and pulling me this way and that, checking my injuries for himself.
“Ouch, bro. Easy,” I said at his rough but worried treatment. Did you get a medical degree when I wasn’t looking?”
He stepped back from the bed, apparently satisfied. “Just checking you out myself. Patrick will want an update. One he can trust.” Eamon’s serious gaze penetrated my own. I nodded my consent before bowing my head to give him a proper look at my skull.
“You got cracked good a few times.”
I touched the tender spot on my head. “No shit, that’s why I’m on concussion watch.” And why my head throbbed like a motherfucker, but I kept that to myself just in case my family thought of sidelining me until they dealt with the Milanos.
“How’s the pain?” Eamon asked, looking intently into my eyes now as if he had the skill to see into my brain for any injury there.
I shrugged and pushed him away, tired of being poked and prodded by everyone. “It hurts, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Eamon’s blank expression gave nothing away, but his hands were clenched and his jaw ticked every few seconds. “Just checking. This happened because you went after Layla. For me.”
“Fuck that, brother. This happened because Lorenzo fucking Milano isn’t satisfied with his lot in life. They want to go after the big guns, then they better be prepared to fight like we are the big guns.”
There was no way in hell I would let this go, not even if Patrick demanded it. “They’re out of their fucking league, and I can’t wait to prove it to them.”
Eamon’s lips twitched before a smile spread. “Glad to hear that, little brother.”
I heard heels clicking at the door and then a familiar voice. “Oh. My. God. Shae!” Layla entered the room carrying a bunch of shit in her arms, tears swimming in her eyes as she looked me over. Shoving everything at Eamon, she rushed to my side and grabbed my hands. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. You guys should have just left me.”
Some people said those words out of guilt or just because they thought it was what one said in these moments, but I could see how torn apart Layla was by all of this. No way. I couldn’t let that shit stand.
“Layla, stop. I mean it.” She stared up at me with those big eyes that made a man feel compelled to protect her. Although my life had always been about getting bitches and riches, I could understand how Eamon had fallen for her.
“Layla, hear this. There was never any option about coming to get you. This wasn’t your fault, it was theirs. Got it?”
“Yes, but why—”
“Because I was the dumbass they caught alone and off-guard. And because I’m a Connelly. Blame Frank fucking Milano, all right?”
She looked up at Eamon, concern in her eyes before she turned back to me with a resigned nod. “I still feel responsible, but yeah, fuck those guys.” Her smile was genuine and that mattered to me. “I brought you some things to keep you from getting bored.”
Eamon snorted. “He’s got a cute little blonde to help in that department.”
“Yeah? Here? Tell me about her,” she said as she unloaded several bags. The first had balloons and flowers, two gifts I’d never gotten in my whole life.
“I know you’re a man, but flowers have oxygen and they’ve been proven to help healing.”
Yeah, I could see exactly how Layla had wriggled her way underneath my brother’s defenses without his consent. She was a beautiful little firecracker who loved the hell out of him, at least based on the way she looked at him. Then again, what the hell did I know about love? I’d never been in love; never even thought I might be. Hell, I didn’t do love. In our line of work, it was a weakness, one that the Milano crime family had eagerly exploited when they took Layla.
“Ivy is the woman who found me in the parking lot and got me help. That’s all.”
“You were holding hands when I showed up.” Eamon sold me out,
laughter burning up his familiar green eyes.
“I was offering her the same kindness she gave me by listening to her worry about her kid brother.” The rest was her story to tell. “And yes, she’s beautiful. And yes, I’d do her in a second.”
Layla grinned and pulled out a couple different magazines, a crossword book and a tablet. “You’re such a dog, Shae. But, that was nice of her.”
“Yeah, she’s seems like a nice girl,” I said. With sinful curves. A woman like that was definitely taken, probably by some stand up guy who worked at a bank or a corporate law firm. But that had never stopped me before.
“Then maybe later you can share this with her?” She held up an aluminum foil tray filled with lasagna. “I also got salad, garlic bread, tiramisu and,” she leaned in with a stage whisper, “potato soup for later. I’m sure they have a microwave around here somewhere.”
I smiled up at her and put a hand to my chest. “Damn. I’ve always wanted a sister. Thanks, sis.”
Her face lit up at my words, and she turned to Eamon with a pretty little blush that darkened my brother’s eyes.
“Okay,” I said, teasing him. “Get out of here with that shit. I don’t want to see your fuck me eyes aimed at my sister.”
Eamon glared at me. “You’re lucky you’re already in the hospital.” Layla just laughed.
I scoffed at him. “I could still take you, old man. But not until after we deal with this Milano problem.”
His demeanor turned serious once again, giving me a sharp nod. “It’s a date. C’mon, Layla. We’d better get to Patrick’s before he brings his whole brigade down to the hospital.”
Our father liked things to go his way and when they didn’t, he moved heaven and earth to make it happen, which meant Eamon’s words were more than teasing between brothers. We both knew if Patrick had to wait too long for an update, he’d bring a dozen thugs with him to terrify the doctor into giving up my medical status.
“Go on, then. Tell Patrick I’m fine and not to worry about me. Thanks for the visit. And the gifts, Layla.”
Layla bent down and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Thank you for saving me, Shae. If you need anything, call me.”
Her actions stunned me into silence, and I just nodded, trying to remember the last time I’d felt a woman pressed up against me in a purely platonic way. The only woman in our lives was our Aunt Fiona, and no one would ever describe her as motherly or nurturing and live to talk about it anyway. Raised in a family of men, Rourke’s mother was as cold and tough as any of her brothers and ten times as crazy. So Layla’s hug affected me in ways I didn’t want to think about.
Instead of thinking about those unwanted feelings, I turned my thoughts to more pleasurable subjects. Like a certain curvy blonde with kind blue eyes and dick-sucking lips.
“Doc, the boredom is killing me!” I knew I sounded like a whiny little bitch but seriously, hospitals had shitty TV, crap food and fuck all to keep a guy entertained while he healed. Or whatever.
Dr. Mannheim stood at the foot of my bed staring at my chart, spewing authority all over the place in his stark white coat and the thing he kept poking into my chest around his neck. The stethoscope.
“The good news, Mr. Connolly, is that nothing else is killing you. No concussion and all the bruises will heal with time, along with your other injuries. I want to monitor that goose egg on the back of your head for another day. If it all looks good by then, you can go home.”
“How about you let my family monitor me?” That was a damn sight better than another twenty-four hours cooped up in the hospital. A sitting fucking duck.
“I could do that, but by the time they realized something was wrong, you’d be dead. Unless you have a doctor in the family.”
I did, but he lived on the east coast, thousands of miles away from Rocket, Nevada. “Nope, no doctors.”
“Your stay in our fine hospital is not that bad, I hope.”
“Not bad but there’s nothing to do here, Doc. I’m no invalid but your nurses won’t let me even walk around. What’s up with that?” I complained.
“It was an order from me, I’m afraid. But now that I’m certain you don’t have a concussion, feel free to walk around and stretch your legs.”
I smiled at his words. “Then I’ll stop my complaining.”
“Sounds good. Let the nurses know if you experience any dizziness or nausea, blurred vision or any other symptoms that cause concern.”
“Will do, Doc. Thanks.”
Left alone again, I decided to try out the toys Layla left to entertain me. So back in bed, I grinned when I saw what movies she’d uploaded for me on the iPad she’d brought. Sons of Anarchy: The Complete Seasons 1-7. That should take me a while to watch. I flipped to the next one. Pretty Woman. I chuckled at her choices and checked out the next one. Casino. I started watching it, but it didn’t hold my attention.
Damn, I was bored, and whenever I got bored, I tended to do stupid shit. Not today, though. I planned to do whatever it would take to get me discharged before the book closed on tomorrow. So I decided to take a little walk since I had the doctor’s approval.
I hated hospitals and knew it had everything to do with coming here as a kid to visit my mother as cancer ravaged her entire fucking body. The antiseptic smell made it hard to forget that time, which was ironic since these days I barely remembered much else about her. The halls were too bright with a low hum of activity as I walked the corridors, listening to machines beeping, patients talking and laughing, families crying in the distance.
As much as I enjoyed my relative freedom, this was too much. Too much jogging my memories. I turned on my heels to make my way back to my room. I’d rather watch one of the cheesy movies Layla got for me than deal with all the illness and pain surrounding me in the hospital.
I sat back and let the movie continue, but I wasn’t focused on it. My mind kept wondering back to Ivy, so open and honest. So beautiful. I should probably forget about her, leave her alone while I dealt with the Milano assholes, but even the thought of that didn’t sit right with me.
I wanted to be with her, and I made a vow, right then. I would be with her. Soon.
Chapter Seven
Ivy
I took a deep breath as I stood outside Ian’s hospital room to cleanse away the worry that made my stomach lurch, the one that threatened to send the sandwich I’d just eaten coming back up for a repeat appearance. In addition to nourishment, after two days in the same clothes, I had finally showered and changed into a clean sweatshirt and jeans. I pushed the door open and fixed a smile on my face.
“Hey, Ian. How are you feeling today?”
He looked at me warily and my shoulders fell. “Feeling better today, Ivy. You?”
“I’m not the one in the hospital.”
One side of his mouth pulled up into a grin. “Yeah, but you look like shit.”
“Thanks, Ian. You really know how to compliment a girl.” Teasing was a good sign. It meant he wasn’t still angry with me for our little fight. At least not angry enough to hold a grudge.
“I’m sorry,” I told him, the words rushing out before I lost my nerve to apologize, or worse, start justifying my behavior.
“I know it’s annoying to have someone worry so much, and I’m sorry about that, Ian. Truly.”
He listened carefully and nodded. “But?”
I smiled at my kid brother. “But I won’t apologize for how I feel. What I’m sorry for is trying to push my fear onto you. That wasn’t fair of me. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”
“You mean that?”
I planted a wry grin on my face. “I do.”
Ian was almost as much my son as he was my brother because I was eight years older, and I’d taken responsibility for him in all the ways that mattered. It wasn’t easy, but I found a way to keep us clothed and fed while making sure we both finished high school, something I was sure would make Mom and Dad proud.
“Ian, you were right about my fears
, but you were wrong to tell me to move on. I’m living my life the best way I can. I worked very hard so that you could too.”
“I know,” he sighed, a guilty expression on his face as he slid down in the bed. One of the monitors beeped until he righted himself. “And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I can’t be sad and scared all the time.”
“Oh, Ian.” I stood as close to him as I could without disturbing any of the equipment keeping his body running smoothly. The monitors, catheter, and IV drip. “I don’t want you to be sad or scared all the time. I’m really happy you’re not as affected by the accident as I am, but I am. Anyway, I’m going to do better. I promise.”
“Thank you.” He said with a note of acceptance that told me it was time to move on.
“Any word on when you’re out of here?”
He looked away, avoiding my gaze which meant he was hiding something from me. I didn’t push because if Ian wanted me to know, he would tell me.
“Soon,” was all he said. “But that could mean a few hours from now or by the end of the month.” He shrugged like it didn’t matter, and I tried not to be offended.
“In other words, butt out?”
“Yeah,” he sighed, looking at me with too much guilt for a guy with a mangled leg.
“Okay. I’m butting out unless you invite me in.” I didn’t really believe that, and I didn’t think Ian did either, but I would try my best. Maybe if I didn’t spend so much time hovering, calling him up to check on him or stopping by with meals for him, then I wouldn’t worry so much.
“Seriously?”
“Yep. I’ll call you once in a while to say hey because we’re family. All you had to do was ask, Ian.”
“I’ve been trying to but you weren’t listening.”
“Fair enough. Well I’m trying now, okay?”
“Good. Don’t take this the wrong way, but my friends are coming by to visit.”