Chapter Fifteen Jasmine
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Jasmine
The world was still black, and someone was still calling my name, but the voice wasn’t Derek’s.
It was soft, feminine, and unfamiliar. My eyes fluttered open, and I found myself lying in my bedroom, staring into the concerned faces of Eleanor Pike and another woman.
The stranger looked to be around my age, with kind eyes and a calm demeanor, but I had no idea who she was.
The sharp, acrid smell of something unpleasant filled my nose, jolting me further awake.
“Hi, Jasmine,” the woman said in a low, sweet voice. “I’m Dr. Lyons.” She held up a small bottle, the source of the invasive smell that had forced me back to consciousness.
“Doctor?” My brow furrowed as I blinked at her and Eleanor, my confusion growing. I shifted my gaze to Eleanor, hoping for answers.
“Well,” Eleanor began, her tone a mix of exasperation and amusement, “spending hours in the pouring rain in nothing but spandex, and then not eating or drinking for more than a day, has caught up to you.” She offered me a gentle smile.
“Derek called David in a panic. I swear if we had gotten here a minute later, he was going to carry you to the nearest hospital.” She chuckled softly.
“The nearest hospital is twenty miles away.” I barely registered her setting a tray on my lap containing a large bowl and spoon, while I tried to process her words.
Derek. Panic. The two ideas didn’t compute. Derek was unflappable, always composed and in control. The thought of him pacing and panicking over me? Impossible. Yet here I was, staring at Eleanor as she recounted a story that seemed more fiction than fact.
“Why am I in my pajamas?” My voice was weak and raspy. Peeking under the covers, I confirmed that I was no longer in my damp, gross workout clothes but instead dressed in one of my cotton pajama sets.
“We let your husband change you,” Dr. Lyons replied matter-of-factly, her calm tone at odds with the bombshell she’d just dropped.
Derek had changed me. My cheeks burned at the thought, but I was too tired—and, admittedly, too comfortable—to let embarrassment settle in.
“Where is Derek?” I managed to ask, though I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.
“Honey, that man has been wearing a hole in the floor the entire time we’ve been here,” Eleanor laughed.
“And this one”—she gestured to Tora, curled up beside me like a furry guardian angel—“hasn’t left your side once.
When Derek tried to shoo him away, baby”—she nudged Dr. Lyons playfully—“I thought they were going to come to blows.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Tora? Derek? At odds? The image of Derek having a standoff with a dog would’ve been hilarious if I weren’t so weak. I reached over to scratch behind Tora’s ears, my chest tightening with emotion.
“I think Tora knows we’re here to help,” Dr. Lyons said, her voice warm. “Animals have amazing instincts. You two must be really special to each other.”
Her words struck a chord, and my vision blurred with tears. I could only nod, my throat too tight to form words. Tora shifted slightly, nuzzling his head into my hand as if to agree.
“How do I take care of the bill?” I finally croaked, desperate to focus on something practical to distract myself from the emotional tidal wave threatening to overtake me.
“There’s no bill, sweetheart.” Eleanor patted my arm reassuringly. “Derek took care of everything. You just focus on getting better. I even made you some chicken and Pike berry soup.”
Eleanor’s words brought a wave of gratitude, but it was quickly followed by suspicion. “There are Pike berries in the soup?” I asked hesitantly, visions of questionable recipes like raisin-filled potato salad dancing through my head.
“Yes.” Eleanor chuckled. “It’s an old family recipe, and it works wonders. Trust me—it’s delicious. I wouldn’t serve you anything I wouldn’t eat myself.”
Her sincerity was enough to make me lift the spoon to my lips.
One tentative sip turned into another, and before I knew it, the bowl was empty.
The savory-sweet combination was unlike anything I’d ever tasted, and I couldn’t tell if it was the soup itself or the fact that I hadn’t eaten in over a day, but it might have been the best meal of my life.
Eleanor took the tray from my lap, and Tora immediately rested his head in its place, earning himself another round of ear scratches.
“You must really love this dog.” Dr. Lyons glanced up from the tablet she was typing on. “To go searching for him all day in the rain like that?”
Her casual remark hit me like a freight train. Derek hadn’t told anyone that I was responsible for Tora going missing. My stomach churned with guilt and confusion. Why would he protect me like that after everything?
I looked past Eleanor and Dr. Lyons to the doorway, where Derek stood with David.
His arms were crossed, his face a mixture of worry, guilt, and something softer that I couldn’t quite name.
Our eyes met, and for a moment, the world seemed to still.
I mouthed the words thank you, and he gave me a small, strained smile in return, the tension in his expression betraying the weight he was carrying.
As much as his actions left me reeling, one thing was clear: Derek Carter, the man I thought I’d figured out, was proving to be far more complicated than I’d ever imagined.
It was another hour before everyone left.
By then I was feeling a lot better, but Dr. Lyons insisted on continuing to monitor my vitals just to be sure.
Derek hadn’t stepped into the room while Eleanor and the doctor were there, insisting he didn’t want to get in the way.
Instead, he managed to coax Tora outside for a walk.
I wasn’t sure if he did it to create some distance between us or to ensure I wouldn’t be left alone.
Either way, I couldn’t decide how I felt about it.
If Derek’s reaction to me losing Tora was supposed to simplify my feelings for him, his response to my getting sick had done the opposite. I was back to square one.
Dr. Lyons and Eleanor left me with about a week’s worth of soup and Derek with a detailed list of care instructions.
Despite my initial protests, I promised to spend the next two days resting, drinking fluids, and eating the soup—though I knew that last part wouldn’t be an issue.
Alone in the quiet bedroom, Tora’s soft snoring at my side, I tried to listen to the hushed voices outside until I drifted off into a light, dreamless sleep.
When I opened my eyes again, Derek was sitting in the armchair across from my bed.
He looked up when he noticed me staring and offered a small smile.
I blinked, assuming I must still be dreaming.
Derek Carter didn’t just sit quietly in my room, looking concerned.
This had to be some fever-induced hallucination.
I closed my eyes again, hoping the next time I opened them, reality would make more sense.
But the next time I peeked, Derek was still there. This time, he was scrolling on his phone. When he glanced up and caught me looking, he smiled again. That’s when I decided to speak.
“Do you plan on going to bed anytime soon,” I croaked, my voice hoarse from crying and disuse, “or do you intend to guard my bedside all night?” I twisted to sit up, rousing Tora in the process. “Because if you are, I think I’m already covered.” I patted my loyal companion’s head.
“I won’t argue with you there.” Derek chuckled, setting his phone down on the nightstand. He poured a glass of water from the pitcher and handed it to me. “I don’t think I could do a better job than him, but I don’t mind. I’m not in a hurry to get back to the couch.”
“Tell me something.” I took a sip of water and placed the glass back on the table. Derek raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “How uncomfortable is that couch?”
“Extremely,” he replied, deadpan. Then a small smirk tugged at his lips. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I happen to be in possession of a king-size bed,” I began, trailing off at his quizzical expression. “And you might have saved my life, so I might be amenable to sharing it. If Tora’s okay with it.”
“That’s a very generous offer,” he said, leaning back in the chair and crossing one leg over the other. “But what if I don’t want to catch whatever it is that got you into this predicament?”
“I’m not contagious,” I shot back, narrowing my eyes, at least I didn’t think I was.
“You also haven’t showered or brushed your teeth in over twenty-four hours, so I’m not entirely sure which option would be worse.”
I sucked my teeth and rolled over, turning my back to him. “Fine,” I muttered. “Give your chiropractor my regards.”
Derek’s chuckle filled the room, followed by the creak of the armchair as he stood.
“Jas,” he said softly, using my childhood nickname.
The sound of it made me freeze. I turned to find him gazing down at me, his voice warm and teasing.
“I’d be willing to consider your offer if you took a shower.
You know you want to,” he added with a grin, extending a hand to help me up.
He wasn’t wrong. I was desperate for a shower.
Now that the feverish haze was fading, I felt gross and sticky.
I’d also been sweating into these sheets for over twenty-four hours.
I couldn’t fathom how Derek hadn’t passed out while changing me into pajamas.
Self-consciousness crept in as I hesitated, but his steady hand coaxed me to my feet.
“C’mon,” he said, his arm steadying me as we shuffled toward the bathroom. “I gotcha, stinky.”
I burst out laughing, swatting him weakly on the arm. Once we reached the bathroom, Derek started the shower and laid out a towel and clean pajamas. I perched on the closed toilet lid, watching him move with surprising efficiency. His presence was oddly comforting.
“All set.” He took a step toward the door. “Yell if you need me.”
After the shower, which felt like the most luxurious experience of my life, Derek helped me back into the king-sized bed, which now had clean, soft sheets. “Feel better?” he asked, his voice soft.
“Much better,” I replied, unable to suppress the smile spreading across my face.
“You smell better, too,” he quipped, dodging the pillow I tossed at him. “You didn’t smell before,” he added hastily, laughing as he left the room.
Twenty minutes later, Derek returned, freshly showered and wearing only pajama pants. My eyes betrayed me, sliding downward before I could stop them, confirming what I’d already suspected from Cassie’s comments: impressive print. Damn it.
“You okay?” Derek refilled my water glass, his biceps flexing suspiciously.
“Would you mind putting on a shirt?”
“Why?” he replied, feigning innocence.
“Because it’s distracting.”
He smirked but left, returning moments later in a white T-shirt that did little to diminish the distraction. He shooed Tora off the bed before climbing in, only for Tora to reclaim his spot at the foot of the bed once Derek settled.
“Lights on or off?”
“Still afraid of the dark, Derek?” I teased.
“Lights off, smart-ass,” he replied, switching off the lamp. The room plunged into darkness.
“Derek?” My voice wavered, and I was glad he couldn’t see me.
“Yeah?”
“I’m really sorry I lost Tora,” I whispered, sniffing back tears.
“I know,” he said softly. “I’m sorry I lost my temper with you. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Tora’s a pretty special guy,” I murmured, reaching down to pat his head.
“Yeah, he is.” Derek let out a long sigh. “And I should’ve told you he likes to bolt if you take him off the leash.”
“He likes to what?” I jerked up, outrage bubbling in my chest.
“Good night, Jasmine.” Derek chuckled. Within minutes, I was asleep.