Chapter 20
Halle
I wake slowly and, with Herculean effort, pry my eyelids open. But as soon as I do, the room swims in a gauzy haze, like I’m looking through murky waters. My lids fall closed again.
The next time I wake up, it’s because, from somewhere beyond my conscious state and bedroom, I hear laughter.
It’s the sound of my daughter’s sweet giggle followed by a deep, resonating chuckle.
I bolt upright in bed, the sweat of panic beading in the hollow of my throat. The move is clearly the wrong one because a sharp pain hits me squarely between my brows, nearly knocking me back over. My stomach rolls with nausea. I manage to prop a hand behind me and steady my head with the other.
Taking deep breaths, I slowly exhale and take stock of my current state.
Blankets are thrown around the bed, and my sheets and pajamas are saturated and sticky from sweat. I give an experimental sniff at my underarm and practically recoil from the stale, nasty stench.
Regardless of my current state of dress and odor, my immediate priority is checking on the safety and well-being of Lenni.
I untangle my legs from the blankets, using energy I don’t have to throw the covers back and swing my legs over to the side of the bed, my bare feet touching the floor.
Once again, my body betrays me, and my head lolls forward in a wave of dizziness.
I groan and swallow down the bile that threatens to escape my throat.
The next minute—or it could be ten because right now time is an unknown quantity—a large, masculine body appears beside me, hands positioned on my shoulders to hold me upright. My head swirls in dizziness, the edges of my vision bursting with white light.
“Hang on there, Cherry. Let me help you.”
With strength I didn’t know I possessed, I tilt my head and peer into Dane’s earnest gray eyes.
I lick my dry lips and try to speak through a parched mouth.
“Lenni?” I croak out, the words like fire from my burning throat.
Those gray eyes crinkle and his mouth curves at the corners to offer me a smile.
“She’s doing great. I have her coloring at the table right now, but she’s dying to get out on her bicycle.”
My body sags in relief. And then I’m hit with another panicked thought, and my heart bottoms out in my stomach.
I gasp. “What day is it? How long have you been here? And when…?”
Before he can answer, Lenni runs into my room, bringing with her a barrage of happy, high-pitched chatter.
“Mama! You’re awake, Mama!” She tries to reach up on her tiptoes to hug me, but I shift my weight to pull away, and Dane puts out a hand to stop her.
“Hold up there, Lulu Lennon,” he says with such familiarity that I want to cry. “Your mommy is still really sick.”
Technically, I got this bug from her. With her starting the new daycare a few weeks back, she brought all the ick germs home with her.
I’m just thankful my sweet girl didn’t get as sick as I am with this virus.
There is nothing worse than when you have a child sick in your arms and there is nothing you can do but wait it out.
Disappointment washes over her face, her smile dampening until Dane lifts her up in his arms, then she grins wildly.
My ovaries dance and flip at the sight of him doting on my daughter. Our daughter.
For five years, I managed to avoid this very image in my head because I never wanted—or expected—it to happen. To me, it would be the worst if he swooped in, stole her heart, and then left her devastated when he got bored and left us.
I’ve seen it too many times to friends who were children of divorce. The mothers were left to pick up the pieces while the dads just left their families behind.
Nothing in this world can be as damaging to a child’s psyche than loving their father and then losing that relationship when he moves away and on with his life.
And shit. It might already be too late because I can see how Lenni looks adoringly at Dane.
My heart clenches in fear, and I want to protect her own heart from that pain.
On the positive, at least she doesn’t know Dane is her father. And I need it to stay that way. For the present time, Dane can just be her good friend, Ax.
“It’s okay, Mama. I’m not sick. Ax gave me my witamins and milk so I can be strong.
” Lenni flexes her little bicep to prove she’s immune.
“And Mama, he played Olaf with me. And we watched Moana. And we played hockey. And he made me pancakes wiff lots of surr-up. But not bananas. I told him I don’t like those. ”
She shakes her head and wrinkles her nose in an icky face of disgust. Lenni has always been a good eater, trying almost anything I put in front of her.
She’s a huge fan of broccoli, tomatoes, peas, even bell peppers, eating them like candy.
But it’s the smell and texture of bananas she’s never been able to get over.
I want to laugh but my chest hurts too much, and I fear I’ll start in on another coughing fit if I do.
I work my lips into what I think is a cracked-lip smile instead. “That’s good, baby. I’m glad Ax could be here to take care of you.”
I lift my gaze to Dane and strangely enough, I see the same expression on his face as he stares at Lenni. It’s plain as day. Adoration and love.
“And I want to wide my bike outside. Ax said you need to say okay. Can I, Mama? Please? I pwomice to wear my helmet.”
My brain tries to keep up with her excited chatter. Her face lighting up, she wiggles in his arms and Dane sets her down on the floor again. “Oh, and Mama, I made a picture for you. To make you better. I go show you.”
Without any further explanation, she runs out of the room and down the hallway, leaving me under the watchful gaze of Dane. He turns to my bedside table, grabs a glass of water, and hands it to me as I lift my body into a sitting position.
“Here, drink some water. You need to stay hydrated.”
I gladly accept the offer and take several long gulps, the cool liquid drenching my parched tongue and dry throat. When I’m finished, he takes the glass from my hand and places it back on the table.
Kneeling beside the bed so we’re at eye level, he gives me a grave look of concern.
“You had me worried, Hal. I was about to call in a doctor, you’ve been so out of it.” His eyes flash with what looks like worry. “In fact, if you’re okay with it, I want to call my IV therapist to come over. You’re in need of some major rehydration.”
“Oh. Um, is that necessary? How long have I been out?”
I try to recount the last time I was lucid and aware of what was going on around me.
There are flashes of recollection of me lying on the bathroom floor the first night after I put Lenni to bed.
The next morning, I remember watching her from my spot on the couch, unable to move a muscle as she poured Cheerios into a bowl, and hearing the cereal pieces scatter over the floor.
I have no memory of texting or talking to Dane.
“Two days,” he states. “Three nights.”
My mouth drops open, and I gape at him. “Two days? Oh my God. I’ve never been this sick before.”
Dane pats the top of my thighs, still covered in my stinky pajamas. A sudden wave of embarrassment washes over me, and I push his hands away.
“I’m so sorry I burdened you with this. I was…”
“I know, you were desperate.” He chuckles and lifts a shoulder. “But look, it’s fine. I’m just glad I was in town and could be here for you both. But tomorrow I have to be at a morning practice and I have a game tomorrow night. I’ll need to make some arrangements for Lenni.”
I wave him off, turning to the side of the mattress and gingerly placing my feet on the floor. I push my palm against his chest to get him to move. “It’s fine. I can manage.”
He shakes his head when I wobble and then holds me upright with large hands that cup my shoulders. Once I’m stabilized, he then sits down at the edge of the bed next to me.
“Halle, come on. You can barely sit up without passing out, much less take care of Lenni. I can still help you figure it out. I just need to call in some backup and make arrangements. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Emotion clogs my chest, and I want to burst out in tears. Maybe it’s not a wave of dizziness from this virus but a swooning sensation from seeing this side of Dane I’ve never witnessed before that overtakes me. He’s so in control of everything, like all of this is just a walk in the park.
When I don’t respond, Dane continues.
“I can drop off Lenni at daycare before practice, and I’ll ask Nils Lundren if his nanny can watch Lenni during the game. You just stay here and rest and get yourself better. For both your sakes.”
In the past, Dane always played it like he was just an easygoing, cheeky charmer, where everything came easy and the world was his oyster. But he’s proven through this to obviously be good under pressure and that he doesn’t ruffle easily. Maybe that’s what makes him such a good hockey player.
Unlike me. I overthink everything and panic over every decision I make over Lenni.
Even looking for a new pediatrician for Lenni took me over a week to research. I narrowed through the list of doctors, reading through the reviews one by one, creating a spreadsheet of their qualifications and backgrounds before I made my selection.
Even in making the decision to call Dane—although I can’t for the life of me remember doing it—I probably stewed over it until I was so sick I could no longer take it.
Before I know I’m saying it, the words slip from my mouth.
“When did you grow up, Dane?”
With a tilt of his head, he quirks an eyebrow and gives me one of his signature smirks, the same one that won me over back in the day. My heart skips a beat.
“I always had it in me, Cherry. I just never had a chance to prove it to you until now.”
A noise sounding a lot like a laugh bursts from my lungs, followed by a deep barking cough. “I see you’re still full of yourself though, aren’t you, hockey boy?”
“When you got both the skills and the looks, Cherry.” With a bit of a swagger, he flicks his hand to flip his hair back with a haughty flourish. “Who wouldn’t be, eh?”
Oh Mylanta. Dane hasn’t changed too much.
But I’ll admit, the man may be arrogant and have an ego the size of a hockey arena, but he backs it up with his damn good looks and a level of charm that will steal your heart.
Dane Axelrod is blessed with a fierce jawline that could cut glass and is covered in a tawny honey-colored scruff that makes my fingers want to strum through it.
Once again, I’m struck with the physical changes in his body.
Toned, muscular arms that look like mountains protruding underneath his form-fitting Henley shirt, and thighs that bulge from years of skating and intense physical workouts that I can’t help but yearn to wrap my legs around again.
And he’s not just a pretty face, either. Dane has a quick wit and a bold confidence that measures up and makes me swoon.
What he’s apparently done with Lenni the past few days while I’ve been under the weather shows that he is willing to accept fully capable of handling our child.
Which means I need to be even more vigilant at guarding both Lenni’s and my hearts.
“Why did you agree to help us?”
Dane’s gaze finds mine, his gray eyes flashing with confusion. He grabs my hands in his, and turns my palms face up. His thumbs stroke a lazy pattern over the skin of my wrists and goose bumps of electricity surge through my body.
My sense of smell and taste may be severely affected by this virus, but it doesn’t douse the spark of sensual heat I feel from his touch.
“Halle, I would do anything for you.” He stares at me from under his long lashes. “And for our daughter.”
As if his words summon her, Lenni comes bursting through the bedroom door right on cue. This time, she holds a piece of pink construction paper that she must’ve pulled out of the cubby in the kitchen.
“Look, Mama! I made a card for you.” She shoves the picture in front of me, and I grab the edge, flipping it around to see the artwork. “And look, Mama, Ax helped me wiff the words and dwaw the hockey stick. He plays hockey like Zack and Drew.”
I glance at him and try to hide my smile. And then I look back down at Lenni, who grins broadly with the knowledge she’s shared.
“I know, baby. And he’s a really good hockey player.”
“Yeah. He plays for the Vikings. And he called you baby, too.”
My eyes go wide, and I pin him with my question. “Oh? Did he now?”
He shrugs and gives me a wink. “Old habits.”
“Yeah. But I towd him you’re not a baby. He’s silly,” she explains, then grabs Dane’s hand and pulls his arm. “Come on, Ax. Time to wide my bike.”
I watch as my little girl tugs Dane up to his feet and pulls her two-hundred-something-pound father toward the doorway. Dane just looks back at me and grins that boyishly charming smirk.
Oh shit. I’m a goner.