The Family You Make

by Jill Shalvis

  Levi’s gaze met Jane’s, and in that single heartbeat something changed for both of them. Acceptance. He reached for her hand as he spoke into the phone. “Forget my job, Mom,” he said with surprising gentleness, eyes still locked on Jane’s. “I just wanted to tell you that you’re right. Jane’s my girlfriend.”

  “Oh!” his mom whispered, clearly touched to near tears. “Oh, Levi, that’s wonderful. A dream come true for me, to know my baby is happy. You are happy, yes? Is she sweet?”

  “Very,” he said.

  Jane bit her lower lip and shook her head, needing him to know she was the furthest thing from sweet.

  He just held her gaze and kept talking over the raging storm and the blood whooshing in Jane’s ears. “She’s sweet, she’s caring . . . she’s everything you’ve ever wanted for me.”

  “Oh, honey, really?”

  He looked right into Jane’s eyes and lied through his teeth. “Really, Mom.”

  Jane was boggled. Both at the obvious love he had for his mom, and also how she should’ve been embarrassed to be intruding in such a private moment, but instead only felt . . . fascination.

  “I can’t wait to meet her,” his mom said, sounding happy, so damned excited that even Jane’s cold dead heart warmed and rolled over in her chest. “Does she live in Sunrise Cove? When can I meet her?”

  “We’ll do details another time,” Levi said. “I’ve gotta go now, Mom. Kiss Peyton for me. Love you—”

  Beep.

  His phone died.

  Swearing beneath his breath, Levi looked down at his cell, expression tight with pain but also worry, and yet Jane knew that not one single ounce of it was for himself. It was for his family, whom he clearly loved beyond anything.

  That selflessness got her. She’d felt it once, with her grandparents. But like most good things in her life, it hadn’t lasted.

  Levi’s hand slipped into hers, and she started.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said, comforting her even though he was the one who was hurt. “We’re going to be okay.”

  That’s when she realized she was shaking.

  Swearing again, Levi sat up with some difficulty, but determined, he leaned against the bench, where he tucked her into his side so that they were sharing body heat, snuggling her in close. “Hug me,” he said. “I’m scared.”

  She looked into his eyes. He wasn’t scared—or at least he wasn’t letting it show—but she took the out and pretended it was for him anyway, gratefully moving in against his body.

  “We really are going to be okay,” he said softly near her ear.

  And even though she knew he was just trying to make her feel better, the same way he’d done with his mom, she found herself nodding. “I know.” The guy had an optimistic outlook, like he truly believed deep in his soul that someone would come for them. Since she couldn’t remember anyone ever coming to her rescue, this blind faith was utterly foreign to her. That’s when she realized the weight of his arm had just gotten heavier. “Levi? Stay awake.”

  “Tired.”

  An adrenaline crash and also a likely concussion were causing that, but he needed to stay awake. “Hey, so how often do you come home to visit your family?” she asked urgently.

  “Mostly only when it’s a command performance . . . by the one person on the planet who can guilt me into it.”

  She tilted her head to look up at him. “Your mom?”

  “She likes to remind me that thirty years ago she labored for well over twenty-four hours to birth me, ruining her figure in the process. Translation: I owe her.”

  Jane started to say something like how horrible of her, but Levi’s voice had been warm with affection. They were quiet for a moment, in their bubble from the real world, Levi’s arm around her, her body curled into his side, sharing body heat. Daylight was fading as the snow swirled all around them, blocking out everything else.

  “Any regrets?” he asked.

  “You mean because we might die?”

  “Let’s not.”

  She let out a rough laugh. “Agree, let’s not.”

  “So . . . ?”

  She shrugged. “I hate regrets. I try really hard not to have them.”

  “Which didn’t answer my question,” he said.

  “Okay, fine, maybe there are a few regrets . . .” She drew a deep breath as she thought about how she’d lost touch with her grandpa. She supposed no matter how hard she’d tried, she did indeed have regrets. “I lost touch with someone important to me,” she admitted. “And the more time that goes by, the harder it is to figure out how to find my way back.”

  Levi’s eyes held hers as he gave a barely-there nod of understanding. “I get that. I . . . hurt someone important to me once.” His gaze went faraway, like he was lost in the memories. “She wanted more than I was capable of giving her back then.”

  She had to admit to being curious, but she was grateful he hadn’t pressed her for more details, so she had to afford him the same courtesy. “And now?” she asked.

  “And now it’s too late.”

  Something else she could understand all too well. “So we both suck,” she said.

  He snorted, and they were quiet a moment.

  “If you could have one thing,” he finally asked quietly, “whatever you want, right now, what would it be?”

  That seemed like an unanswerable question. “I think you should go first on that one.”

  His eyes were closed again, his voice slower than before, worrying her. “I’d want to see my niece, Peyton . . . Her dad just bailed on her and my sister, and she’s lost so much. I’d want one more day with her, taking her skiing or playing tea party, whatever she wanted to do.”

  The words rumbled through his chest to hers, and warmed her every bit as much as his delicious body heat.

  “Now you,” he reminded her. “Whatever you want, what would it be?”

  She wasn’t actually sure. Maybe to have a family unit, like he did. Impossible with the life she led, of course. She came to work the ski season in Tahoe every year. The rest of the time, she was all over the world, wherever she was needed, working for organizations like Doctors Without Borders. Her next contract was already lined up in Haiti. The job was a labor of love. Hence the annual Tahoe gig, which paid her more over these two months than she would earn for the entire rest of the year. Plus, it was easier, fewer hours, and she loved the snowy terrain.

  But none of that was why she really did it. Her reason was her own and deeply personal.

  And not something she intended to share. “Well, I was going to say a cookies ’n’ cream cupcake from Cake Walk,” she quipped, needing to lighten the mood. “But now that just sounds shallow.”

  Eyes still closed, he smiled. “There’s nothing shallow about a cookies ’n’ cream cupcake from Cake Walk. What else, Jane?”

  “I guess if I could have one thing right now . . .” she repeated, stalling. “Um . . .” Maybe it would be to have enough battery to call Charlotte. When Jane was here in Tahoe, she stayed in a big old house owned by Dr. Charlotte Dixon. Charlotte was a trauma surgeon who collected people around her like some women collected shoes, and was the warmest, kindest, and most incredibly stubborn, bossy person Jane had ever met. Once Charlotte decided on having someone in her life, that was that. So yeah, Jane supposed if she could do one thing, it’d be to thank Charlotte for collecting her.

  “You’ve got a cat?”

  “It’s more like an alley cat I feed when he lets me.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Alley Cat.”

  He gave a small laugh. “Do you let him inside?”

  “No, he’s an alley cat.” Jane might have had a real home for only a brief window at her grandparents’, but she knew what a home should be, all warm and cozy and welcoming, with people in it who loved one another. She couldn’t offer that to Cat, not when she’d be gone in five or six weeks.

  “Do you let him in at night?” he asked.

  “Tha
t would just confuse him when I’m gone, and then his alley would seem cold and hard, and that’s hardly fair.”

  He squeezed her gently, his eyes serious now. “See? Sweet.”

  “If you knew me better, you’d know how funny that is.” But her smile faded quickly when she realized he’d tipped his head back against the wood bench behind him. He was pale, too pale, and his mouth was a hard grim line.

  Definitely still in pain and possibly fighting to stay conscious. Given what he’d done for her tonight, she knew she’d do just about anything for him in return, so she opened her mouth to give him a truth, to confess what she’d really do with her last moment on earth. But in that very moment, the gondola came to life with a little jerk and . . . started moving again.

  “Oh my God!” She looked around with shock and relief, having really thought her number might be up. “We’re going to make it!”

  When Levi didn’t answer, she tightened her grip on him. “Levi.”

  But he was out cold.

  Chapter 4

  Sunrise in Tahoe was magical. Jane knew of no other way to describe it. One minute the sky was like black velvet dotted with diamonds, and the next, a kaleidoscope of colors. No matter the season, when the sun peeked over the Sierra Nevada and showed off her beauty in all its glory, the view was so stunning it could almost make her forget she’d already had a shitty day.

  Almost.

  Because she was currently inside the ER, unable to see anything other than the curtain surrounding her cot.

  Five minutes after Levi had passed out on her, their gondola had returned to base, where they’d immediately been taken to the hospital.

  The ER had been overloaded. She’d sat with Levi in the cubicle until his wounds had been cleaned and stitched up and he’d been wheeled off to Imaging, which had been hours ago. She’d since been checked over, and at the moment sat in a cubicle on her own, worrying about Levi.

  Dr. Mateo Moreno slipped in past the curtain. He was one of her very favorite ER doctors, and not just because he treated nurses with respect and kindness instead of the usual assholery they got from most doctors, but also because he lived next door to Charlotte’s house, where Jane rented a room, and he was a friend.

  Or at least as much of a friend as Jane allowed herself.

  “If you needed a nap after your shift at North Diamond, you could’ve just said so,” he wisecracked as he pulled up a stool. “You okay?”

  She snorted in amusement. “Isn’t that your job to know?”

  His own amusement faded as he met her gaze. “I’m betting your experience was terrifying.”

  One hundred percent, but it was a personal rule not to do vulnerable. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “How did I know you’d say that?” He began to peck on the computer at her bedside. “You call the boss yet?”

  This was a joke reference to Charlotte. Thirty-nine-year-old Dr. Charlotte Dixon was five feet of pure heart and soul encased in hard steel with a southern accent. Nothing and no one got by her, and God help you if you ended up in a skirmish with her, whether that be at work or at the local bar’s pool table or at her weekly poker night, because the woman was fiercely competitive. And yet she loved with everything she had. If you were lucky enough to be in her close circle, she couldn’t help herself, she’d be this gentle but demanding presence in your life as she coaxed/bossed the best out of you, whether you wanted to be your best or not. “I’m waiting until I’m cleared,” Jane said. “So I can show her in person that I’m fine. Otherwise she’ll freak.”

  He laughed softly in agreement. “She just got off her shift. I don’t know if she’s still in the building, but if you don’t leave her a message before you go, you know she’ll find out and freak anyway.”

  “Not if you hurry up and get me out of here. With a little luck, she’s still in the staff room gabbing with everyone like she does, and I can go pick up her favorite breakfast and coffee for a distraction and beat her home.”

  “Just when we all think you don’t care at all . . .” he teased.

  “Ha-ha, you’re a laugh a minute. You missed your calling—being a comedian would’ve saved you all that college debt.”

  “I like this paycheck better.”

  She knew it was about far more than his paycheck. The guy cared about people almost as much as Charlotte did. “You about done yet?”

  “Almost.” He went back to his pecking, making her sigh in frustration. “Almost” in doctor-speak could be anything from five minutes to never.

  “So . . .” she said with as much nonchalance as she could muster, “how’s the guy they brought in with me?”

  “Hmm?”

  “The guy who was on the gondola with me. Head injury. Is he okay?”

  He hesitated, which was odd for Mateo, who was a straight shooter. Then he slid her a look. “Professional interest?”

  “Of course,” she said, because personal interest would yield her nothing thanks to privacy laws.

  Mateo looked at her for a long beat, then shook his head. “Damn, woman. You and that poker face. But you know the drill. If you want info on a patient, you’re going to have to see if he’ll allow visitors and talk to him yourself.”

  She sighed. “Or you could just give me a hint.”

  “I’ll say this. You and Levi both got damn lucky.”

  “You know his name.”

  “Yeah. I know his name.”

  “You worked on him in the ER?”

  “I did. And also . . . we go way back.” And then he went back to typing, shoulders a little atypically tight.

  Seemed everyone had their secrets.

  As for her and Levi getting lucky, she wasn’t sure luck had anything to do with it. Levi had thrown himself across the gondola to protect her body with his. If he hadn’t, he’d be fine. And she’d be . . . not fine. “I’ll take lucky any day of the week,” she said softly.

  Mateo’s eyes softened. “Same. And since you’re not going to ask on the details about yourself, I’ll just tell you. Your wrist is sprained and the contusions on your jaw and cheek, while probably painful, are nothing to worry about.”

  “So you’re releasing me to go home and take a nap for real.”

  “Yes.” Mateo pushed the keyboard away and turned back to her. “How you going to get there?”

  “I don’t know yet.” The old Subaru she drove, which was Charlotte’s spare car that she always lent to Jane when she was in town, was still in North Diamond’s parking lot. Problem was, she’d lost her keys at some point between the gondola and the hospital.

  “I’ll take you home,” Mateo said. “I was off thirty minutes ago. I stuck around to spring you free.”

  She smiled at him. “You’re the best, Dr. Hottie Patottie.”

  He face-palmed. “You promised you’d make all the nurses stop calling me that.”

  One of the five urgent care clinics she rotated through, Sierra North, was attached to the hospital. There was some staff crossover, and she knew a lot of the same nurses he did. “Oh, I got them to stop.” She hopped off the cot. “That was just for me. I enjoy watching you squirm.”

  “You’re a sick woman.”

  “Tell me about it. Let’s go.”

  Mateo went to get his stuff and Jane took a stroll down the ER hallway, gait purposeful so people would assume she was on official business.

  She needed to see Levi for herself and know he was okay on top of lucky. Because actually, thinking about it, it would just be just plain rude to not check in . . .

  He wasn’t in any of the ER bays. Wasn’t in Imaging either. She found him in a patient room, hooked up to an IV, asleep. “Thanks for saving my life,” she said softly. “I owe you one.”

  He didn’t give so much as an eye flicker, so she turned to go and . . . bounced off Mateo’s chest.

  He gave her a long look as he shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. He didn’t say anything, not on the walk out of the hospital and not whe
n they walked across the snowy, slippery parking lot to his car. On the heavily foot–trafficked path, the thick layer of newly fallen wet snow crunched beneath her feet, giving away slightly with each step like a sponge. A few snowflakes drifted down from the sky utterly silently, looking innocuous, landing on her head. She tilted up her face, feeling them settle on her eyelashes, gentle as a kitten’s kiss, making her marvel at the difference between this morning’s weather and yesterday’s.

  He turned on the engine and cranked the heat to high, aiming the vents at her before finally pulling out of the lot.

  They stopped at the Cake Walk, which was Sunrise Cove’s local bakery. Jane was convinced the place was actually heaven on earth. She quickly grabbed Charlotte’s favorite muffin and coffee, and then they got on the road again.

  Slowly. God, so painfully slowly. She looked over at Mateo. “You know, for a guy who works in the ER, moving at the speed of light all day long, you drive like a grandma.”

  “You’re just panicked because you want to beat Charlotte home so you can shower and get to bed before she indeed freaks over what happened to you and then mothers you to death.”

  “Yes! Join my panic, won’t you?”

  He laughed and turned onto their street. Then he stopped laughing. “Uh-oh.”

  “Uh-oh? What uh-oh?” She leaned forward, trying to peer out at the bright morning, but she didn’t have her sunglasses. Sun on snow glare was the absolute worst. “You know I don’t like uh-oh.”

  Mateo pointed to the car in front of them.

  Charlotte’s.

  Shit. Jane sank down low into her seat. “Just park and get out of the car and leave me in here. I’ll sneak out once she’s inside.”

  Mateo made chicken sounds.

  “Oh, like you’re in the clear. You’re still totally in the doghouse with her for clearing our driveway of snow in that last storm.”

  “Yeah, and maybe you can explain that to me. She actually put the snow back.”

  Jane laughed at his confused expression. Men were slow sometimes. “She doesn’t like to accept help. She’s . . . stubborn.”

  “Takes one to know one.”