Chapter 4
EMILY
It’s amazing the difference a few hours can make.
Three hours ago, I was still at the hospital, waiting on the X-rays Derek bullied the ER doctor into ordering despite my insistences that I felt fine.
“Adrenaline can mask all sorts of injuries,” Derek told me somberly when I suggested a full round of X-rays might not be necessary. “A buddy of mine ran for miles on a broken leg without realizing. He had to have surgery on it, and he’s walked with a limp ever since.”
I could have pushed back. But the fear still lingering in his gaze convinced me not to. Because I realized, even if I didn’t need the X-rays, Derek did.
If I’d ever wondered just how protective Derek could be, I found out today.
Not just tracking me down on a hunch that I was in trouble, flying down the highway at speeds I shudder to think about.
Or tying himself to a broken guardrail and risking his own life to rescue me.
It was everything after, too—riding in the ambulance with me despite the paramedics protests, standing guard outside my room while the doctor examined me, and holding my hand while shooting threatening looks at the police whenever he thought their questions were getting to be too much.
Oh, and I can’t forget Derek carrying me from the hospital to his car once we arrived at his parents’ house, all the way to his second-floor bedroom.
Not because I couldn’t walk—the X-rays revealed just what I thought, which was that I might be bruised and sore from the impact of the crash, but otherwise okay—but because he didn’t want me taxing my body any more than it had been already.
“It’s the quickest way to get sick,” he explained as he scooped me into his arms. “Pushing your body too much. And after what you’ve been through already, with the 15K, and the crash, and the stress of everything after… you need to rest as much as possible.”
I briefly thought about mentioning that he’d put his body through a lot, too.
But then he was carrying me like I was the heroine in an adventure romance movie, and a cluster of women hurrying across the parking lot were staring at us with hearts in their eyes, and I decided to just roll with it, instead.
Because it was really romantic.
And honestly, it was pretty sexy, too. So much so that I’m already thinking about suggesting it as something to try the next time we have sex.
I can picture it, Derek coming home from work, his gaze dark and hungry as it lands on me.
Then he strides across the living room and lifts me into his arms, kissing me passionately before carrying me into the bedroom.
My breath catches at the thought.
Heat races through my body.
Tingles of electricity prick at my skin.
A delicious ache builds at my core.
Yes, I’m sore after the events of today. My nose and chin feel tight and swollen from where the airbag hit them. There’s a seatbelt-shaped bruise across my chest that protests whenever I move. The muscles in my neck and shoulders are banded tight.
But apparently my lady parts were unaffected. And if we were back at home instead of at Derek’s parents’ house, with his parents downstairs, no less, I’d probably try to convince Derek that a round of gentle sex was just what the doctor ordered.
“Are you feeling okay?” Derek asks from the doorway.
His forehead creases as he looks at me. Before I can answer, he hurries into the room and sets the tray he’s carrying on the bedside table.
Then he perches on the edge of the bed and rests the back of his hand against my forehead.
“You look flushed. Are you feeling feverish? Chilled? Dizzy? Nauseous?”
I catch his hand in mine, pulling it down. “None of those things. I feel fine.”
“Are you sure?” He grazes his thumb feather-light across the bridge of my nose. It’s not broken, and so far, I haven’t shown signs of sprouting two black eyes. But according to the ER doctor, the full extent of the bruising may not show up for another day or two.
Which, lovely. I can’t wait to show up at the daycare on Monday looking like someone punched me.
The kids will pepper me with questions, which I understand, because I teach in the three-year-old room and at that age, it’s pretty much non-stop questions.
But still. It’ll be a distraction I’d rather not deal with.
And that’s not even taking into account all the questions from the adults. I shudder to think of how many times I’ll have to tell the story of my kidnapping and brush with death.
It’s funny; I would have thought I’d feel more shaken up over everything that happened.
I mean, I was abducted by an armed man, for Pete’s sake.
He was going to take me to who-knows-where to be a stand-in parent to Kylie and possibly—judging from his comment about how I looked—a partner to him, as well.
And on top of that, the car I was riding in nearly pitched into the Mohawk River.
As the events of the day spin through my head again, my body gives an involuntary shiver.
Okay, maybe I’m not quite as unaffected as I thought I was. But still, it’s not as bad as I would have expected. And I think it’s all because of Derek.
One of the things I love about him is how he makes everything better.
Not just the saving me part, but just being close by.
Hugging me. Smiling at me. Bringing me what appears to be a mountain of snacks and watching me with his sweetly-worried gaze.
Even the gentle way he touches me, like I’m made of the most fragile glass.
“You are feeling feverish,” Derek insists. Frowning, he touches my forehead again. “You’re flushed and you just shivered. That could signal inflammation. I think we should head back to the hospital.”
“Derek.” I scoot over on the mattress so there’s room for him next to me. Then I give the empty space a pointed look and say, “Sit. Not on the edge of the bed. Next to me.”
He regards me for a second before he acquiesces. With a sigh, he settles onto the bed and takes my hand between his. “I know you don’t want to go back, Em. But if there’s something wrong—”
“Nothing’s wrong.” At the jump of his eyebrows, I amend, “Okay. I’m sore. Today was pretty insane. But there’s no inflammation. The doctor said I’m just bruised, and I’m going to be fine.”
“But you have a fever—”
“Not a fever.” I brush a soft kiss across his lips.
“I shivered because I was thinking about everything that happened. And my cheeks were flushed because I was imagining—” I glance at the open doorway, where his parents could ostensibly appear at any moment, before continuing in a much quieter tone, “I was imagining what it would be like if you carried me like you did before. But into the bedroom at home, instead.”
Derek’s eyes go wide. “What?”
“It was really sexy,” I say. “How you carried me like a heroine in one of those romantic action movies. And it got me thinking about what it might be like if you did that back at home.”
Interest lights his gaze. “You’d like that?”
I steal another quick look at the door. “I think so. Maybe we could try. If you want.”
Desire tightens his features. “I would definitely like that.” A touch of pink colors his cheeks as he adds, “I didn’t try it before because… I wasn’t sure. With my leg and all.”
Crap. Why didn’t I think of that?
But most of the time, I don’t even think about Derek’s prosthetic. Or that he’s missing part of his leg when he takes it off. Derek is just Derek. The most attractive man I’ve ever met. And the man I’m head over heels in love with.
“It’s okay,” I reply quickly. “We don’t have to. It was just a thought.”
Derek’s arm comes around me, hugging me close. “No, I want to. Today… it made me realize I can do even more than I thought.”
My heart squeezes. I know it’s been a rough road for him, coming to terms with such a devastating loss. All the things he used to be able to do without a second thought turned into obstacles he wasn’t sure he could overcome.
But he has. And what he did on the highway couldn’t be more proof of it.
“You were amazing,” I tell him. “Did you hear what the people on the road were saying? They were so impressed. Carrying me and Kylie up the rope the way you did? I can’t imagine anyone else being able to do that.”
“They didn’t think that before I went down. They thought I would get myself killed.” Derek raps on his prosthetic, fully visible beneath his shorts. “They saw this and assumed I couldn’t do it.”
“But you did. You swooped in like a superhero and saved us.” I kiss him again. “I know I said it before. But thank you.”
“Em.” His features pinch. “Don’t thank me. Protecting you should be a given. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there to stop it from happening at all.”
“Stop.” I give him a light shove. “Don’t even think that. I did something that should have been totally safe. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine for not calling for backup before I confronted Harry.”
“You had no idea,” Derek retorts. “How could you? And you saw a child in trouble. Was in trouble. Of course, your instinct was to help her.” He pauses. “That being said, I think I’ll go with you to the restroom next time.”
“Deal,” I reply with a smile.
At the thought of Kylie, I reach for my phone to re-read the messages from her mom. I know what they say, of course, but it’s comforting to see them again. We exchanged numbers in the hospital, and she promised to keep in touch to let me know how Kylie’s doing.
As I start skimming the messages, Derek asks, “Have you heard anything else from Kylie’s mother?”
“No,” I reply. “Just the messages she already sent. Which is fine. I’m just glad to know Kylie’s okay.”
Well, as okay as she can be after her father tried to kidnap her. That’s something no ten-year-old should ever have to deal with. But from talking to her mom, it sounds like Kylie has lots of support. And hopefully, given time, the emotional scars will fade.
“I’m glad she’s okay, too,” Derek agrees. “Physically, at least. But what her dad did…” He scowls. “I wish I could have had a few words with him.”