Chapter 6
Chapter Six
COLE
My friend is a straight up chicken. He wouldn’t even come into the hospital room with me. I also noted the nurse took off.
“Sierra?” I knock on the bathroom door again.
“Go away.”
I frown at the wooden panel. “How about you come out so we can talk?”
A groan. “No. Please. I’m not ready. I may never be ready.”
Resolve has me leaning a hand on the doorframe. “I’m not leaving.”
“Please, have mercy.”
“I could get the nurse.”
Silence on the other side. I consider chasing down the nurse that let me in, but I decide this is between me and Sierra. My fake fiancée.
The woman I’ve loved and lost.
“You can come out, or I can come in.”
The sounds of the hospital filter into the room, but otherwise there’s nothing but tense silence.
“Sweetheart, I’m going to open the door now.”
But she beats me to it. The handle twists and the door creaks open a fraction of an inch.
Not enough, but it’s progress. “Ready?” I ask.
“Never.”
I chuckle at the absurdity of the moment. “Sweetheart, I know you’re nervous. Truthfully, I am too. You’ve got to be scared. But I’m here to take care of you. Nothing’s going to happen now. We’ll get you home so you can heal up.”
I rest my other hand on the cold metal door handle. “I’m coming in now.”
She inhales sharply. “No. Let me come out. It’s claustrophobic in here.”
“Alright, come on.”
“Move back, please.”
I step away from the door, giving her room. I understand not wanting to be crowded. Her nervous system is clearly operating in a high stress mode.
The door swings. My insides tighten.
Out shuffles Sierra. She doesn’t look my way. She heads right for the windows, snagging a cup of water off her table as she goes.
Damn. Not the reunion expected.
I wasn’t sure what would happen, but flat out ignoring me isn’t one of the scenarios.
As my shock wears off, my worry grows. Even as strong as my spine is, I sway on my feet.
She’s so small. So alone.
Especially framed by two enormous windows, standing with her back to me. Her shoulders are hunched. And her whole body is strung tight.
There is a sizzling, anxious energy in the room coming from both of us.
I try to lighten the mood. “That’s a pretty interesting outfit. What are you wearing?
She shakes her head. “Don’t even ask. This is what that Slaughter guy sent for me.”
A grin ghosts across my face. “That explains. If Cade didn’t wear a uniform all the time, the fashion police would lock him up and throw away the key.”
A husky laugh floats from her. “He can’t wear this T-shirt. It’s a kid’s size.”
“Is it Transformers or Ninja Turtles? If so he kept it since he was young.”
“Good grief.” She tugs at the too short hem of the shirt where it rests against her pale, bare skin.
All the moisture leaves my throat. My words come out gravelly. “Hey, can we look at each other?”
Sierra shifts. Her long red hair sways against her back. “I’m not myself. You’ll have to forgive me. Especially since I don’t know who I am.”
“Sweetheart.” This time my rusty voice is a fraction softer.
“I heard I’m engaged and since you’re the only person who’s supposed to be coming, I presume you’re it. The fiancé.”
My reply hangs on my tongue until I force them out. “I am.”
“This is weird,” she mutters.
“Agreed. I’m sure it’s hard as hell.”
The air crackles between us with a lightning charge.
She drops her face into her hands and goes quiet for a beat. “This whole amnesia thing is freaky and I have to admit, I’m really nervous about looking at you.”
“You don’t remember me at all?”
She shakes her head. The cascade of red silk shimmers in the light. “Not a thing and I’m scared to look at you.”
“I don’t think I’m too hideous.”
Her laugh is a little snort. “The nurse said you’re a looker.”
“Now that’s pushing it. I’d say I’m a six on a scale of ten.”
Her shoulders shake. Laughter is good.
I’m not used to seeing her hair down. Sierra’s a ponytail girl. Or a braid, tucked into a tight bun, when she’s working.
Unless we were in bed, then it was wild and free. Just like the rest of her.
Tingling starts in my fingertips and winds its way up my arms. Heated memories fight for space in my head. Right alongside the painful ones.
God, I wish this reunion was under different circumstances.
Taking slow steps toward her, I say, “Look at the bright side. This is kind of like you’re meeting a blind date.”
“Right, a one-sided blind date, since you know me.”
Oh, I know every single delicious inch of her. I know her fierce heart. I know the backbone of steel. I know everything. Pain knifes through my chest.
God. I missed her.
I rasp out a reply. “I do know you. Well.”
With my heart in my throat, I move in, letting her feel my presence against her left shoulder. “Not much of a view out there.”
Her long lashes flutter, but those eyes stay away from my direction. “I’m ready to get some fresh air.”
“The sooner you look at me, the sooner we get out of here. Unless you want to put a blindfold on and let me carry you.”
She squeezes her eyes shut and she chuckles, but the sound quickly dies. Sierra struggles as I try to accept that this woman is a shell of the woman I knew.
Shit. I want to hold her—need to hold her. My chest feels hollowed out. She used to fill me up with sunshine.
Sierra clenches her fists. “Oh god. This is ridiculous. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I need to just look at you.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. We’ve got time. It’s a few hours before our flight.”
That knot inside my chest tightens more until I can’t draw in any oxygen. I’ll be the one needing the crash cart soon.
I brace when she says, “Alright. Here goes nothing.”
Her smokey blue eyes hit me like a sledgehammer. Her inhale is audible.
Bam! All at once, there’s a crashing sound and cold water hits me in the face. I jolt and blink. “What—”
Sierra’s eyes flare as her hand covers her mouth.
Is that humor in her eyes?
“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t throw that on you. I accidentally dropped my cup.”
I wipe my face. There’s a puddle between us and little shards of hospital ice cover my boots and the tile floor.
She stares at the spreading water for a second before looking back up at me. “I’m sooo sorry. I short circuited for a second.”
I grab the box of tissues from the rolling table and drop down to wipe up the spill.
“Could have been worse. I would have had a lot more on me if you did throw it in my face.”
Sierra’s soft laugh rocks me as she tries to take the box from me, but our heads bump.
I grab her arm to keep her from tipping over backwards.
Her bare skin is scorching hot beneath my fingertips. I pull my hand back, trying to make it look casual, but my fingertips are buzzing.
Sighing, Sierra shakes her head. “I’m such a klutz. First, I douse you, then I try to knock you out.”
“No, it’s okay. It wasn’t all you. My head was involved too. Take it easy. I’ll get this.”
Her face blushes pink before she stands up. And for the thousandth time since the day we met, her beauty kicks me in the gut.
I love her eyes. Big luminous pools surrounded by long, dark lashes that brush her cheeks.
It’s also the delicate line of her nose and it’s definitely the cupid’s bow. Her pale pink lips are pure perfection.
Stop...
Jesus. She’s got amnesia, you dick. Now is not the time to be lusting after her.
When I’ve wrangled the ice back into the cup and wiped up most of the water, I stand to find her watching me. Her gaze is filled with uncertainty.
I brush a wisp of hair back over her shoulder. “Banging heads is bad for your concussion.”
She stares up into my face.
I can’t stop tracing my eyes over her. Just like the first time I saw Sierra. It was a deployment briefing. I couldn’t hear a damned thing anyone said for a solid ten minutes.
I had to have her.
But this isn’t a pretty reunion, I remind myself.
“I see the bruises and stitches.” I nod toward her arm. “How are you feeling?”
“Besides lost, a little dizzy now and then. Bruised up. But otherwise, I’m just ready to get out of here.”
“Let’s get going, then.”
She chews on her lip for a second. “Guess being engaged to you is my ticket to freedom.”
I force a grin. “I guess so.”
I can’t believe I’m lying about being engaged. Especially to a woman that would have rather set me on fire than talk to me, even a week ago.
It’s stupid of me, but I reach out and wrap a tendril of dark red hair around my fingers. “Being my fiancée could have its perks.”
“I didn’t believe it was true.”
I catch her hand. “Would it make you feel better if I asked again?”
Her lips part as her brows go up.
Emotion wells up inside of me until there’s no room for air. “Sierra, will you marry me?”
Those beautiful blue eyes widen until she smiles. “Am I supposed to say yes?”
“That’s one of two replies.”
“If I say, no?”
I try to sound relaxed. “They might not let you leave with me.”
She hinges back and says, “Heavens, then my answer is a resounding, yes.”
I fight a tremor that runs down my arm as I press her hand to my sternum. “Thank you for that.”
“It was a joke.”
“Not in my book.” I squash the rampant desire to kiss her and let go of her hand.
Her eyes skate over me. Dropping down, across my chest, and lower to my legs. The little telltale flush of her cheeks and little lick of her lips is all I need to see.
She’s still affected.
She jerks her gaze away.
Now, that is new.
Sierra used to eat me up with her eyes. I fucking loved it. But this shyness is different.
I hate that she’s not herself, but her tentative inspection feels like a total turn on.
Her blush darkens.
My pulse throbs.
The way the color brightens her fair skin is just plain sexy. I’ve seen the same flush five-hundred times. Sometimes when she’s aroused. Sometimes when she’s mad.
Her mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. A sheepish expression brightens her eyes. “I have to say, I can’t believe I'm engaged to you.”
“Yeah, why?”
“You’re… just not what I expected.”
I chuckle to cover the tension coiling inside of me. “Oh, this should be good. You can explain that later. We should get going.”