Chapter 5
LANCE
Steppingout of Blythe’s hospital room – Lance sagged against the wall and let out his breath. This was the first time she had really awoken and held part of a conversation in a day. She was so out of it, so groggy, the doctors had her on oxygen, antibiotics, and bronchodilators to get some of the soot and chemicals out of her lungs or body.
It was bad.
Lance had been utterly shaken when he found out that she was fading in and out. Severe trauma to the lungs was tough, but combined with whatever was burning in the house, any possible accelerants, and the stress and strain it put on the body – it was not unusual to have someone completely flip out or start shutting down. When he arrived at the hospital to check on her after his shift, he broke down when he found out that she’d coded and had to be resuscitated.
He nearly lost her – and really hadn’t had the chance to get to know her yet. Her chest was in pain from the inflammation of her lungs, her windpipe, and the chest compressions. He wasn’t sure how to tell her that without falling apart.
In the firetruck on the way back to the station, Colton had revealed that he’d married his ex-girlfriend and had a secret child that he’d just found out about. The boy was three, and the firefighter he admired more than anything looked so blissfully happy at both announcements.
Both Lance and Alec kept reminding Colton that his ex-girlfriend had ignored him, ghosted him, and left him without any word yet it didn’t seem to matter. Colton had some blind obsession regarding his new wife and some crazy theory that they were going to get past all of the misunderstandings somehow.
He hadn’t understood at that moment, but carrying Blythe to the ambulance, seeing her unresponsive, and getting hit with the news that she nearly died? Well, that had a way of changing your priorities. The way she clung to his hand had nearly broken him. No, he hadn’t understood Colton’s easy change of heart.
… But he did now.
Life was short and much too fleeting.
The woman he’d felt such an attraction to on the day that those calendar photos were taken— she was nearly taken from him. He hadn’t been ready to finally ‘grow up’, mature, and look at settling down… but the feelings that ricocheted through him watching her sleep fitfully with the oxygen mask on her face, her breath rasping hoarsely with each breath, made his own chest ache.
Nothing else mattered anymore. No, death and nearly losing someone had a very brutal way of putting things in perspective, and his vision was startling clear now. He was going to do the once-insipid things just to see her eyes sparkle at him, to see that smile, and to be able to hear her already husky voice laugh with him.
Walking toward the nurses’ station, Lance nodded in a distracted greeting.
“Blythe Monroe in room number four just woke up…”
“Ah, good, Sleeping Beauty is awake now. I’ll be right in to get her vitals and check on her.”
“Can you get her something for pain – she was complaining of her chest hurting.”
“I’ll get her something if the doctor allows it.”
“Do you mind if I grab her another blanket from the warmer down the hallway?” Lance asked suddenly, remembering how cool she felt at the touch of her hand.
The nurse nodded, pointing down the hallway, and he moved toward the unit that was plugged in nearby. When he was little, his mother used to throw his towel in the dryer. She had died when he was young, and his father had taken off to who knows where, but he still remembered that memory. It was wonderful to be enshrouded in something cozy, knowing you were safe and cared for, and he wanted to give Blythe that sensation. Even now, as an adult, he kept a plug-in towel warmer in his bathroom near the shower. He plucked out two of the thin blankets – and then grabbed a third one, just in case, before returning to her room.
As Lance slipped into the room, he saw Blythe’s eyes were closed, and her hand that had the I.V. in it was laying on her chest… holding something. Curious, he walked over silently and unfurled a blanket, tucking it around her feet carefully, trying not to disturb her. He shook out another one and draped it over her upper legs and torso and paused.
Completely taken aback and humbled, he realized that she was holding the tiny card from the flower arrangement that he’d bought her to brighten up her room. It had been a simple thought, done without hesitation. He just didn’t want her to wake up alone or in some dark, isolated room. She would be scared, and everything in him just wanted to comfort her. Moving to shake out the third blanket, he started to lay it over her and saw her eyes watching him.
“They’re bringing you something to help with the aching,” he said softly. “I thought you might like a warm blanket… or several of them.”
“Thank you,” she began and then flinched, swallowing audibly and trying not to cough. He helped her sit up and gingerly patted her upper shoulder blades over her hospital gown as she tried to suppress the cough that had to be hurting her right now.
“Might be an old wives’ tale, but the sisters at the orphanage swore that having someone pat you helped bring up any congestion.”
“Not… sick…” she rasped, her voice sounding raw and gravelly.
“No, you aren’t, but it doesn’t mean that you don’t have some nasty stuff to expel,” he replied, rubbing her shoulders and patting them, trying not to make this about him touching or feeling her; rather, he was just trying to comfort her. “Let me know if you want another warm blanket,” he chuckled softly. “I know where the hidden stash is, and I’m not afraid to mug them for another satisfying hit of the good stuff.”
Blythe laughed hoarsely, then coughed hard – and he winced. It sounded painful to him, combined with the small sound of distress she made, waving and reaching for a tissue. He quickly handed her one, and she spit out something, looking utterly fatigued and disgusted as she lay back.
“Are you okay?” he asked, smoothing back her hair to comfort her – and she waved him closer. Leaning down, he put his ear toward her face, so she didn’t have to exert much effort.
“My mouth… tastes like charcoal,” she rasped gingerly, and he chuckled, grinning at her.
“Is that an invitation? You know men and their grills - we love barbecue.”
And for the first time in two days – she rolled her eyes and smiled at him before mouthing ‘No’. He didn’t mind in the slightest because seeing her almost back to her old sassy self was probably the best thing ever. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes.
He moved to remove the little card that had been on the flowers he purchased for her from her hand only to have her reach forward and grab it again. Before he could question it, she quickly pinched her eyes shut, almost as if to avoid him, and laid the card back down across her chest, putting her hand over it.
Right over her heart.
“All right,” he whispered. “Get some rest, and I won’t touch it.”
Lance moved toward the seat on the other side of the room, plopping down and kicking it back slightly so he could try to get some sleep, and couldn’t fight the smile on his lips.
She was clinging to the simple little card like it was a lifejacket, putting it over her heart, whether she knew it or not. That was about the sweetest, most endearing thing he’d ever seen – and if he wasn’t already serious about all of this?
That simple movement would turn the tide for any hard-headed man – and he was already swimming in the other direction.
Several hours later,he heard a noise and cracked open an eye from the chair he’d been dozing in, only to see that Blythe was trying to get out of her hospital bed. Not moving, he opened both eyes and spoke from his location.
“Uh, what exactly do you think you are doing?”
“Don’t make me talk…” she said hoarsely.
“Paper and pen – got it – but get back in bed,” he began bluntly, getting up and walking to her side quickly, he met her eyes and saw the feelings of helplessness written in that dark gaze he had just been dreaming about. “What do you need? I’ll get it for you.”
“You can’t…”
“Blythe…”
She tried to jerk her arm out of his hands and made a noise as he accidentally pulled the tape on her IV line. He cursed softly, hesitated, and then simply moved, scooping her up in his arms.
“Where do you want to go… and heads up. You’ve still got your catheter inserted and taped to those sexy legs. You’ve got about ten or fifteen feet of tubing, so we aren’t going far.”
“Oh my gosh,” she chuckled hoarsely, staring at him in disbelief and dismay… only to cough again. Her entire body was shaking with the effort to dispel whatever was inside. She was sounding a little better. Well, an infinitesimally minute amount, but hey – an improvement was still an improvement. “D-Down…”
“Can I just say that I’m really frustrated my arm is on your back and under your knees, because I’m betting your hospital gown isn’t tied well…” he chuckled tenderly, waiting for her to lose her temper… except she looked away.
Her lower lip wobbled precariously as a tear grew and hovered at the corner of her eyes before his very own. He was experiencing the weirdest protective feelings within his soul, and the idea that he made her cry did not sit well in the slightest.
Leaning forward, he kissed her hair lightly.
“I was only teasing you and trying to make you smile. Your gown is tied just fine, and if it wasn’t – I promise that I will not look.”
“I’m sorry…” she whispered, wiping her eyes.
“Let’s get you back in bed…”
“My tailbone hurts,” she mumbled. “I’ve been sitting on it so much and lying on my back for so long that my tailbone is killing me.”
“Let me get you a pillow, and we’ll just prop you on your side.”
“You don’t have to be so nice to me…”
“And you don’t have to argue with me,” he countered, leaning close and brushing his nose against her hair near her ear. “You smell like brisket.”
And was rewarded with a hoarse laugh combined with a shy smile.
“That’s my girl,” he murmured, tucking her back into the hospital bed. He pulled a pillow out of the small closet nearby and saw her wary look as he carefully tucked it underneath her hip, making sure the sheet covered her.
Yeah, there were a few hard life lessons he’d learned over the years - being deathly ill, in a hospital for any reason, or completely plastered in a field at an outdoor rock concert wasn’t a good look for anyone, nor did it feel sexy in the slightest. If you felt like the contact between the grass and your fingertips was the only thing keeping you on the planet, it was hard to be ‘in the mood.’
“So let’s talk for a second,” he began and saw her give him a droll stare that only made him smile. “Well, if you insist – I’ll talk, and you can just listen.”
Blythe rolled her eyes and gave him a thumbs-up.
“They are probably going to discharge you in the next few days,” and he saw the instantaneous look of panic on her face, but he was two steps ahead of her. “And I’m assuming you have no place to go, so I’ve got an idea.”
“No,” she said hoarsely.
“Shhh,” he countered, smirking. “Let your voice rest, remember? I’m going to be at work for the next three days, and you are welcome to crash at my apartment. Now, fair warning… it’s a pigsty.”
And bless her – she laughed. It sounded like fingernails on a chalkboard, but it was so open, honest, and easy that it was probably the best thing he’d heard in a week.
“It’s not glamorous. I use paper plates for a reason. I’m a typical bachelor, and if it can’t be shoved into a laundry basket before a girl comes over, then I don’t need it. I have a sleeper sofa, a bed, and a recliner – all three are comfortable to sleep in. You are welcome to raid my closet for anything that might fit you and I have an emergency credit card in the far back of the utensil drawer that you can use until you get your life back together.”
“Paper, p-please…” she whispered, flinching and her eyes glassy once more.
“Hold on – and don’t cry. I’ll get some paper.”
Lance bolted out the hospital room door and made a beeline for the nurses’ station again – reaching right over and grabbing a tablet.
“Sir? Wait! You can’t just do this!”
“I’ll be right back…” he yelled over his shoulder and heard footsteps behind him as he darted back into Blythe’s room. Thrusting the spiral at her and the pen, he snapped. “Write fast – I’ve got an angry T-Rex about to come through that door any second now!”
She looked at him in shock.
“Write! Write!”
Blythe didn’t hesitate – she started scribbling as fast as humanly possible just as a woman built almost the same as he slammed through the doorway, causing the both of them to look up in alarm.
“YOU!” the nurse snapped hotly, rushing toward the bed – and Blythe ripped off the paper and handed it to her mutely, shaking it for good measure.
“Hurts…” she said when the nurse didn’t take it.
“It’s hurting her to talk,” Lance added, pointing at the paper. “It was an emergency, and I needed it for only a minute.”
“Do not snatch things off the counter or desks at a hospital – and you know better than that. Do not make me call your boss.”
Lance shrugged.
“Call him. He knows I’m here. Besides, I’m an example of how to get stuff done,” he smirked. “A bad example… but hey, if there weren’t any flunkies, who’d be the winners in this world, right? You need people like me, just like my girl needs her lunch and a piece of paper.”
“Why, you little…”
“Nuh-uh,” he grinned, waving his finger. “Technically, you are working for our insurance right now, so scoot along and get some pudding, Jell-O, or broth before I decide to call your boss… eh? How’s that threat feel?” …And felt Blythe swat at him, her eyes flashing as she jabbed a finger, pointing at the nurse.
“Sorry,” he replied quickly. “She’s sorry. I’m not.”
And felt her swat him again.
“Oww?” Lance chuckled – and this time turned to put his backside toward her, looking over his shoulders and wagging his eyebrows playfully. Blythe rolled her eyes, but that adorable smirk was there on her face. She was quite aware of what he was doing. “Still waiting on the pudding pack for my little Betty Boop, Nurse Rex.”
“It’s Nurse Brummell… and I’ll have someone request a tray for the patient.”
Not two seconds after the nurse left the room again, he felt a hard slap directly on his backside that caused him to wince.
“Ooow?! Seriously, your bedside manner has got to improve. Don’t you know it’s only a thrill to a certain level of pain, and after that, it hurts. Cup your hand and slap me gently, don’t blast my cheeks like you are trying to slap the sin outta me… and FYI, you nearly got the job done. Seriously. Your tailbone and now my butt cheek.”
She scribbled something on the torn piece of paper and handed it to him. Her writing was messy and everywhere in different directions with each thing she wrote down, but he could still make it out.
Thanks – now my hand hurts too.
Don’t be rude. She’s my nurse!
And then he turned the paper sideways to read what else she had written.
I hate this! What am I supposed to do? I don’t want your charity, especially when we barely know each other. Why are you even here? I was literally moving in the morning to my new place and barely got the keys when this happened. Everythi –
Her writing had stopped because of the nurse interrupting them, but the gist of it was there. She lost everything and didn’t want to be beholden to him or take charity, and she was scared. He understood that because it was a life-altering event in so many ways.
Lance didn’t say a thing but instead pulled up a small chair beside the hospital bed and took her hand in his. He looked at her, and there must have been something written on his face… because her own started to crack. She began to cry and snatching the paper from him, wrote down something else, shoving it at him, waving it as a sob slipped out.
I’m sorry, I hate crying.
How am I going to do my job if I can’t talk???
“First of all, it’s okay to cry,” he said gently, his eyes holding hers. “Secondly, you are going to heal, and it will stop hurting so much. You’ll be back to work in no time. You got me?”
He saw her nod and smiled softly as she sniffed, wiping her face with her free hand and leaving streaks from her tears. Things had to look pretty bleak to her right now. He understood and wanted to help.
“And you are going to stay at my place to rest for a minute – nope!” he interrupted as she started to open her mouth. “No, just listen. I’m not going to be home and it’s a safe place to sleep until I get off work. Then, we’ll get a few things, get you moved into your place, and you aren’t alone in this. I’ll help you,” he offered softly.
She waved her hand at him for the paper. He handed it over begrudgingly, chuckling as she glared at him, writing one word and underlining it several times before handing it back.
WHY?
Looking up from the paper, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He could still see her lying there, limp in his arms. The way she was wheezing when he’d put her on the gurney, that feeling when he knew she’d nearly died here at the hospital. He was drawing on those feelings to do something completely different, something that probably scared him as much as it scared her to be homeless.
“It’s something any half-decent boyfriend would do for his girlfriend…” he whispered – and she glared at him, shaking her hand for the paper that he was still holding. He knew she wanted it back, was probably going to write something on it that would sting because he’d been so careless in his first impressions with her,and he desperately wanted to see that starstruck yearning in her eyes again.
“We’re going out Friday when I get off of work,” he said, holding the paper still. “We’re going to get you moved in, unpack some things, get you some essentials, and spend the day shopping together.” She waved her hand at him frantically again, signaling for the paper.
“Then we are going to go have a nice dinner, maybe take a walk along Ember Creek in the moonlight and watch the stars together – just like other couples do,” he whispered, not looking away from her. “Does that sound okay? Do you think we could try this again? Start over one more time?”
Her doe eyes stared at him as her lip wobbled precariously.
“Please don’t cry anymore, Blythe,” he breathed. “Look, I know this is weird, and not typically me… but a little part of me dies every time I see you tear up. I promise it’s going to be okay – and if it’s not, then we’ll work through it together somehow.”
A sob escaped her as she stuck out her hand again, waving it – and blindly reached for a tissue with the other one. He sighed and handed her the paper, only to see her scribble something once more, and this time, she folded the paper, handing it to him. Her face gave away nothing. She was too busy wiping her eyes and staring at him. He unfolded it, bracing himself for rejection and smiled.
No barbecue, okay?
And I’m still scared, but I feel better - Thank you.
Blythe gave him a teary smile as she nodded and then shrugged slightly, waving her hands and remaining silent.
“It helps not to talk?”
She nodded, before giving him a thumbs-up.
“I think I’m gonna go track down the T-Rex and see where your pudding and broth is at. If I disappear to grab a sandwich at the cafeteria, are you going to be okay for a few minutes?” he asked, seeing her nod… and she smiled.
Lance was going to find the nurse, get her some food, and insist on a sponge bath or something so she felt like her old self. Once she got cleaned up, had fresh sheets, ate, and got some more sleep, she’d feel much better, and maybe things wouldn’t be so overwhelming. Perhaps I’ll get her a robe at the gift shop or some fuzzy socks, he smiled, waving slightly as he left the room.
… And fist-pumped the air before jumping up in the middle of the hallway, dancing erratically, completely overwhelmed with excitement. This was a turning point for both of them – and it was starting now.
They were going out on a date!