CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Jagger
“He’s got a long road of recovery ahead of him.”
“But he will recover? Like back to normal?” That was definitely Clint’s voice.
“Define ‘normal,’” Wyatt retorted.
“With physiotherapy and rehab, I’m confident your brother will regain full mobility of his knee. Possibly even better than before it was shattered.” That was probably a doctor.
I was obviously in a hospital after receiving the shit-kicking of a lifetime from one Ozais Romney.
Groaning, not because I was in pain, but because my mouth tasted like the bottom of a fish tank, I stirred and risked opening my eyes.
Luckily, the lights were low and not blinding.
Clint and Wyatt stood in the doorway chatting with my doctor, while Raina—with Marco in her lap—slept on the couch near the window.
I must have groaned loud enough to draw attention, because my brothers and the doctor were at my bedside.
“You look like shit,” Wyatt said. “Seriously, dude. Did you land even one punch?”
“Don’t … don’t make me laugh.”
“Thirsty?” Clint asked, picking up the cup of water on the table beside my bed and bringing the straw to my mouth. I sipped it greedily before holding the last big gulp on my tongue to soften it.
After swallowing, I took in my surroundings. I could tell that my face was bandaged up pretty effectively. Which meant—
“Did … you … did you shave—”
“They had to shave your beard for surgery,” Clint said, reading the horror in my eyes. “It’ll grow back.”
“Haven’t seen you without a beard in years,” Wyatt added. “Let’s embrace the change. Give us guys with scruff some time to shine, huh?”
Luckily, neither of my arms nor hands were broken. So I managed to flip him the bird with no problem.
“What’s broken?” I asked, facing the doctor again.
“Your patella was shattered. So you had to have a full knee replacement,” the doctor started. “Your nose was also very broken, as was the bone around your left eye socket and your left cheekbone. We’ve put metal plates in your cheek to reconstruct the shattered bones.”
“Guy had mallets for fists,” I stated. “Just so we’re clear. I fought a fucking genetic abomination.”
My brothers both chuckled.
“Fortunately, there was no internal damage besides a ruptured spleen, which we had to remove. Otherwise, you sustained no internal injuries. I believe that with patience, physio, and rehab, you will make a full recovery.”
“Even his beard, doc?” Wyatt asked with a snicker. “What about his beard? Did you save the hair? Can we glue it onto his face until the real stuff grows back?”
The doctor merely snorted in amusement before taking his leave.
“That was some Jack Reacher style shit you did out there, little brother,” Clint said, a mix of pride and worry in his eyes. “I get why you did it, but don’t ever do it again.”
“Planned to do it again on Thursday,” I replied dryly. “Sorry.”
He rolled his eyes.
Movement to my right pulled my attention.
Raina and Marco were both awake, rubbing their knuckles into their eyes in the exact same way.
“Hey, Marco,” Clint said, “I saw a vending machine out there. You hungry?”
Marco climbed down out of his mom’s lap, but before joining my brothers, he ran up to me and wrapped his arms around my chest. “You’re the best, Jagger. I’m so glad you’re okay. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for kicking my uncle’s butt. Even if he also kicked yours.”
Brushing my hand over his soft hair, I nodded. “Would do it again in a heartbeat, bud. But I think your mom is the real hero. She took down your uncle, Ozais.” My gaze drifted to Raina who stood behind her kid with, a pensive, nervous look in her eyes.
“You want anything from the vending machine?” Marco asked. “When I broke my arm when I was six, Mom said I could have anything I wanted from the vending machine. I’m sure it’s the same for you.”
“Bring me back a something soft, hmm? I don’t think I should be chewing too much with all these broken bones in my face.”
He nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Once they were gone, and it was just Raina and me, I held out my arm for her to join me. She seemed hesitant at first, but eventually perched her perfect little ass on the corner of the bed. I reached for her hand.
“It’s not over,” I said plainly. “I’m too in love with you for it to be over. So tell me why you freaked out at the house.”
Her chin trembled as tears welled up in her eyes. She crashed her face to my chest, unable to speak. Then she gasped and pulled back. “Oh god. I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”
I shook my head stiffly. “I’m on a shit-ton of pain meds right now. I don’t feel anything but good.” Then I guided her face back down to my chest, and with that silent permission, she opened the floodgates and sobs shook her body with a violent force.
“Okay.” I stroked her hair, careful not to get my IV tangled in her wild curls. “What happened?”
“Pickford.”
Of course it was fucking Pickford.
“He accused me of endangering your family. Your nieces and nephews. He said it was bad enough bringing potential danger to the school, but I brought it to your doorstep, to your family as well. He said, ‘Hasn’t that family been through enough?’”
Fucking Pickford. When was the universe going to do us all a favor and give that man a massive coronary?
“So rather than talk to me about it, you picked a fight and ended it.” It wasn’t a question.
We both knew that was what she did. Only, now I also knew why she did it.
It made sense … sort of. I still wished she’d just told me what was going on in her head rather than shut me out.
We had a lot of work to do to build her trust in people outside her little cousin circle.
Gripping my hospital gown in her little fist, she nodded against my chest. “I’m a mess. I’m not ready for a relationship. And I definitely don’t deserve someone as wonderful or stable, with their shit together, as you.”
“Look at me, Raina.”
Once she lifted her watery gaze to mine, I gave her an irritated eye roll.
“How about you let me decide what I do and don’t deserve, hmm?
Because I happen to think I absolutely deserve someone as incredible, strong, hilarious, prickly, smart, and quirky as you.
Because you are incredible, Raina. Stop trying to convince yourself that you’re not.
That you’re not ready, that you’re a mess, and that you don’t deserve to be loved.
Because you are ready. You’re not a mess, and you absolutely deserve to be loved. ”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For all of it,” she moaned. “For getting you tangled up in this, for … ending things between us. For getting all your bones broken by my brother.”
“I chose to get tangled up in this. And as far as I’m concerned, you tried to end it.
I went along with it, knowing you were in mental distress, but I planned to sort it out with you once the craziness died down.
So technically, things never ended between us.
There was no third act breakup here. Just a terrified mother not thinking clearly.
Just a terrified mother shutting out people she’s not sure she can trust, and thinking it’d be easier to just shoulder the burden herself.
And as far as the broken bones go … bones heal.
I will heal. What matters is that a little boy we both love is safe and back with his mother.
I would let Ozais break every bone in my body twice over if it meant getting Marco back to you.
And I’d let him do it even if you ended it with me. ”
“I love you, Jagger.” She swallowed hard. “I really, really love you. And I know you didn’t go snooping on my computer. I just … I panicked.”
“It’s about damn time you realized you loved me, you little cactus. Now come here.” I grabbed the back of her head and guided her toward my mouth. It was a brief, peck of a kiss, considering most of my face was swollen, but it was still a kiss. It still had healing powers.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her salty lips against mine. “For not giving up on me. Or us. And for saving my son.”
My fingers tightened against her scalp possessively. “I won’t ever give up on us, as long as you promise that you won’t either.”
Her nod and smile were powerful enough to heal all my broken bones—if that was how broken bones healed. “I promise.”
I was doing all the things I was supposed to do, but the healing in my knee proved to be a bigger bitch than any of us anticipated. I still couldn’t stand for long periods of time, and I could forget about trying to get out for a run until at least the fall.
But, it was March, my face was healed, and I was walking without a cane, walker, or crutches. We needed to take our little victories when we could.
Nine of us stood before the Council of Island Elders. The Vino Vixens of Westhaven Winery and the McEvoys of San Camanez Brewery, with a joint proposal for equal ownership of the land, and a collaborative partnership.
“We weren’t expecting this,” Abe Jeffries said, his brown eyes shifting across all of us standing there, ready with our PowerPoint Presentation, binders for every single council member to have in front of them, and a mock 3D diagram of what we would do with the land.
“Yes, well, we weren’t expecting two of our family members to fall in love. It’s a beautiful partnership. So we’re taking it as a sign to not be in competition with each other anymore, but rather work together,” Bennett said.
Gabrielle grinned at Raina and me, standing next to each other, before addressing the Council. “Now, if you’ll all turn to page one of your binders …”
“As you can see,” I started, “all along, Westhaven Winery and San Camanez Brewery had similar visions for Bonn Remmen’s land.
We want to showcase all that the island has to offer.
Build a multipurpose pavilion where we can host weddings, family reunions, retreats, and other gatherings.
There is space for both an outdoor venue, and an indoor one. ”
“As well as ample room for an herb garden, a place to plant hops; and it’s south-west facing and largely protected from harsh winds, so it’s perfect for grapes on that natural slope,” Raina added.
I leaned against the table to take the weight off my knee. “We would love to preserve Bonn’s home. Upgrade it, of course, but turn it into the honeymoon suite. Or a place where the bridal party can get ready. It’s honestly perfect, it just needs some—”
“Extra love.” Raina slid her hand into mine. “We’ve also included the bunkhouse for seasonal staff at the pub, as well as the six new A-frame, one-room cabins.”
“Honestly,” Gabrielle chimed in, “it’s a perfect, beautiful blending of three worlds. Westhaven Winery, San Camanez Brewery, and Bonn Remmen’s legacy. Very little of the land will need to be excavated, and we plan to nurture the garden and indigenous plants he consciously planted there.”
It was tough to get a read on the Island Elders. They bounced their gazes between our PowerPoint slides, their 3D rendering, and the binder in front of them. It was all the same information, just in different formats.
Bennett and Danica went on to field any questions that involved money, since that was their forte.
Then the rest of my siblings—besides Dom, who didn’t like public speaking but was there because he was one-fifth of the company—and Raina’s cousins, answered questions and went into greater detail about our plans.
After nearly an hour of standing, my leg throbbed, but I made sure not to show it on my face as we brought the proposal to a close.
One by one, we shook the Island Elders' hands and thanked them for their time, before all nine of us convened in the community center lobby.
“Now what?” Raina asked. “My fingers are going to cramp if I keep them crossed any longer.”
I rubbed her back as I took the chair Clint brought over for me.
“Now, we wait for the verdict,” Gabrielle said. “Nothing more to do. We presented one hell of a proposal, with a solid business plan. It’s up to the Elders now.”
“Lunch at the pub,” Wyatt said. “Feel free to grab your kids first and bring them along.”
Raina and I waited until everyone else filed out, then she helped my slightly limping ass to the truck where she drove us back to my house. Marco was with my nieces and nephews, hanging out at Wyatt’s house under the careful watch of Vica and Chloe.
“Your knee hurts, doesn’t it?” she asked, glancing over at me.
“Not much. It was just a lot of standing.”
“Bullshit, McEvoy. Don’t lie to me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. I’m in a moderate amount of agony right now. You happy?”
She shook her head. “A moderate amount of agony? Is that even a thing? Agony is like the most amount of pain you can be in. So you’re in a moderate amount of the most amount of pain you can be in? That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It makes sense to me! Pull over.”
“What? Why?”
“I said, pull over, woman.”
Totally confused, she did as she was told, parking on the shoulder of the tree-lined road. “Are you insane?”
I unbuckled her belt, reached into her hair, gripped her scalp the way she liked, and hauled her against me, taking her mouth like I owned it.
Not letting our mouths come apart, she climbed into my lap, her fingers making their way into my hair.
My arms came up under hers and I held her to me, devouring her mouth, inhaling her exhales and holding her to me, because I never wanted to let her go.
After a moment, breathless, we peeled our mouths away. But then I went back for another small kiss, and another. She blinked at me, all starry-eyed and gorgeously flushed. “Is it wrong I still kind of like fighting with you?” she asked.
“This kind of fighting is like foreplay,” I said, bringing my hands up to cup her breasts
She nodded before going in for another kiss. “Even if our proposal doesn’t win, I’m glad our families came together.”
“Me too.”
“I love you, McEvoy. So much.”
Running my hands up her sides, then over her back, I pressed my mouth to her neck for a moment, inhaling her sweetness. Her fiery, rosy goodness. I met her gaze again. “I’m going to marry you, Raina. When you’re ready. When Marco’s ready. I’m going to marry you.”
Her eyes went wide. “Is this a … are you proposing?”
“No. I’m warning you that one day, when you least expect it—but are also totally ready—I’m going to propose. So … be warned.”
“I … I don’t know how I’m supposed to react to this. Or what I’m supposed to say.”
I guided her mouth to mine, our lips just hovering a hairsbreadth apart, but her eyes remained open and wide in shock. “Then don’t say anything. Just kiss me. But also … be warned.”
Then I claimed her mouth once more, because Raina Aaronson, my enemy, my nemesis, the Joker to my Batman, was mine. Forever.