Chapter 38
Felicity opened her eyes. Two men were in the room, blurry silhouettes against the light streaming through a window. The room was way too bright. “Sun is bad. I hate the sun.”
“Well, it’s a start, I guess,” Derek said, his words in direct contrast with the profound relief in his voice.
“Lissy?”
“Everything hurts.”
“Yeah, it sure might.” Derek’s voice was taut.
“Don’t be mad at me.” She tried to swallow. “Friend was in trouble.”
Her brother-in-law came to stand next to her brother, who was sitting in the chair beside the bed. “Never again, you hear me? I’m not going to get this call ever again. You hear me, Felicity Gallagher?” Her brother-in-law’s voice broke on the last word. “Twice was enough.”
She smiled. “Wait, where’s—” She gasped, and her eyes popped open, and she tried to push and pull at the bed rail to sit up. “Oh my god, is Sam okay? Where’s Nic?”
“Lie back down right now.” The fact that Derek was doing the talking meant Dylan was probably barely holding it together. “Sam’s absolutely fine. Your mom’s down getting coffee with—”
“What about Nic? Is he okay?”
“Is he okay? You ran out in an F3 tornado and lost a fight with a wrought-iron table.”
“You should see the other guy,” she said. Her attempt to scoff turned into a low hiss. She pressed the hand that wasn’t in a cast to her side and took a few slow breaths until the worst of the pain spasm subsided.
Dylan let out a sound that might have been a sob, which threatened Felicity’s ability to hold it together.
Dylan cleared his throat. “Mom pulled your biker boy chef out by his earlobe because the stupid guy hadn’t eaten in two days.”
“You still hate him?”
Dylan frowned. “Not good enough for you.”
Felicity grinned at him, before processing his words. “Two days?”
“You’ve been sort of in and out. You needed surgery on your wrist. You needed enough meds to tranquilize a horse, according to the nurses, because you kept trying to pull out your lines.”
“When can I go home?”
Derek checked his watch. “Damn.” He handed his husband what looked like a five-dollar bill.
“Told you. I know my sister.”
“You’re making bets on my recovery? Savage for you, Dylan.”
“Just on how quickly after you woke up you’d ask to go home.” Dylan’s grin at her was still a little watery. “And I don’t know when they’re letting you out.”
She looked at her brother-in-law. “Head-to-toe assessment?”
“Concussion, six staples. Also, you were dehydrated. Hydrate better before running out in tornadoes. Fractured wrist. Displaced. Surgery yesterday went well. Six bruised ribs.”
“So, not dead.” She waved an imaginary victory flag with the wrist that wasn’t in traction. “Wooooo.”
With a huff, Dylan stalked out of the room.
Derek flinched. “He’s been worried. I think he’s going to get your mom.”
“He’s a good brother. And Mom’s here?” Sighing, she touched the stapled areas on her head. “How ugly am I compared to last time?”
Derek grinned. “The nose still looks great.”
“That’s something.” She looked at the door. “Nic’s really here somewhere? At the hospital?”
“Not sure we could pull that man away.”
She smiled a silly, giddy smile that probably didn’t go with the cast or her broken wrist. “Wait—you and Dylan shouldn’t be here. When are the twins—”
“We have two more months before official twin-watch starts, Felicity. Everything’s okay. Your mom and Dylan are going to help with the shop for a few weeks while I go back and finish up working before the babies come.”
“But I’ll be fine. You don’t have to—”
Derek silenced her with a pointed look at the hospital room.
“Fair enough.” She shifted her weight in the bed. The sheets were scratchy and sweaty and everything felt wrong. But the pillow was hers from home. It even had her favorite eggplant-colored silk pillowcase on it. “Can you get—”
The door swung open. Nic stood there with her mother behind him. At first, he just stood silent, frozen in the doorway. He was still in the same T-shirt she remembered from the minutes in the garden. “You need a shower.” She grinned.
Nic barked a laugh. He rushed to her bedside and everyone else melted out of the room. He leaned down, looking her over as if he needed a cell-by-cell verification that she was real.
His neck bent toward her, face inches from hers.
“No.” She leaned away.
“No?” His voice was lower than it had ever been.
“I haven’t brushed my teeth in days, and you haven’t showered in as long, and you might have ruined our first kiss that could have been epic with your wishy-washy nonsense bullshit, but I’m not ruining our second with corpse breath.”
He laughed before bowing his head over her good hand, holding it tightly, and kissing the knuckles. Without warning his laughter became something else. Something raw and guttural and wet.
“I’m okay, Nic.” The words were little more than a breath. “I’m sorry.”
“I almost lost you.” He looked up, eyes bloodshot and flooded.
“You didn’t though.”
His shaking hand extended toward the part of her head held together with staples. A fingertip brushed against her hair with the barest of pressure. “I need to tell you something.”
She yawned; the lingering effects of whatever horse tranquilizers they gave her were fogging her vision after that initial burst of “yay I’m alive” adrenaline faded. “I need to tell you something too … I’m so tired though…”
She woke up. The hospital room was bright again. Or still. Unclear which. The clock said seven, and she was assuming it was morning, but she couldn’t be one hundred percent sure.
Nic was in the chair like before, but his hair was clean, and he wore a different shirt.
Her mother was curled up on the second chair.
A nurse came in, waking the other two, as she introduced herself. “Ready to go home today? The doctor said he was keeping you for observation that extra night. What do you think?”
Felicity attempted to nod vigorously but winced against the pain.
Nic grabbed her hand but spoke to the nurse. “I’m assuming rickety metal stairs are a no-go with this type of injury?”
The nurse grimaced. “Yeah, no … Do you have somewhere to stay that’s a little more accessible?”
“Yep.” Nic stood stock-still like a soldier at attention.
“I can speak.” She smacked his hand away, but then winked at him before answering the nurse. “Yes, I think I might.”
“How long should we make her stay home from work?” her mother asked.
“I guess that depends on what she does?”
“Runs a garden shop and maintains a large community garden. And a plant care business,” Nic answered.
“Oh. Yikes.”
“Yikes, indeed.” Nic rubbed his chin.
“Shush, you,” Felicity said.
“Follow-up with ortho in a few weeks.” The nurse held up her paperwork. “Talk about it then. Rest as much as possible in the meantime.”
“I can rest.” Felicity nodded.
“Since when?” her mother said.
“Everyone in this room sucks.” Felicity crossed her arms, forgetting about the busted wrist, and a small whimper of pain left her before she could stop it.
Nic frowned down at her.
Her mother looked ready to scold her.
“If I can go home, I’m going to get dressed.”
“I’ll help her, Nic.”
The nurse smiled at him. Felicity couldn’t blame her. Nic had that effect on people. “Why don’t you go pull the car around. I’ll go over instructions with her and then we can bring her down.”
Nic nodded like a soldier who had been given a battle strategy to execute. She half expected him to salute and say Yes, ma’am to her mom.
After her IV was taken out and she signed the paperwork, Felicity frowned. “Wait, do I even have clothes?”
“Nic brought you some.” Her mom handed her a C’est la Vache branded tote.
She reached inside and found a navy-blue cashmere sweater.
It wasn’t full of holes and pills like her old one.
There were also leggings and underwear and a bralette, and yes, she planned on killing Nic for going through her underwear drawer without permission, because it meant he had probably seen the collection she had hiding inside.
“This isn’t my sweater.”
“He said they had to cut that ratty one off you, but he found a similar one.”
Felicity smelled it. It was probably because of the bag, but it smelled like Nic’s kitchen. Like spices but with that slight musk that reminded her of their kiss before Nic had messed it all up. Though, in his defense, it was more the tornado’s fault.
“Stop smelling that sweater and get dressed.” Her mom’s expression was severe, but her eyes were twinkling.
“I think he likes me.”
“I reckon he does.”
“Where are Dylan and Derek?”
“Derek’s running the store … and Dylan’s getting some work done around … just around.”
Felicity’s shoulders slumped. “It’s bad there … isn’t it?”
“Get dressed and then we can talk after you get some breakfast in you. You’ve been high as a kite for the last few days with all the meds they gave you after surgery.
You need to eat. How’s your wrist?” Felicity had a vague recollection of refusing the meds a few hours ago, which was why she was cogent now and also probably why her arm was throbbing.
“Hurts, but it’s okay.”
“Good.” Her mother crouched down to look her in the eyes. “I know your brother has already given you the shit you deserve, Lady Lissy, but you ever try a fucking stunt like that again, and I don’t care that you’re thirty, I’ll be grounding your arse.”
“Sam was sick.”
“Sam was sick. But she was listening to her body, and she told you it could have waited, and you decided you didn’t give a bloody feck about it.”
Felicity shrugged.
“You’ve been playing fast and loose with yourself for too long.” Her mother’s eyes had that same feral look Nic’s had. She’d never seen her mom’s eyes like that. Her mother sat in the chair, clutching the C’est la Vache canvas tote bag to her chest. “We weren’t trying to treat you like glass.”
Felicity frowned. “Nic told you?”
“Nic’s been half-mad with worry. Told me a lot of things.” Her mother’s lips pursed together. “I know he’s your friend and offered you a place to stay, but you could also come home with me.”
“Home home?”
The idea of leaving made her chest tighten. Her home was where her prickly cactus butt nightgown was. Her home was near her shop. Her home was where she could hear Nic’s rhythmic chopping and her aunt’s collection of wind chimes.
“I’m staying here.”
Her mother nodded. “Well, all right. I’m going to be staying in that apartment for a while. I already packed you a bag, because I figured you’d want to be with your friend.”
“Wait, you went through my drawers too—” Felicity felt suddenly a lot sicker than she had a few moments ago.
“You have quite a collection, but I put all that aside into a box. Nice to see that technology has improved beyond needing so many batteries. It was so expensive before.”
“Please stop, Mom.”
Her mom’s voice was full-on Derry now. “Those special cord chargers are pretty slick. I didn’t know they had so many options these days.”
“I wish the tornado got me,” Felicity groaned. She gently pulled the sweater on.
Her mother laughed. “Don’t be such a prude. Your father and I have six kids.”
“I might vomit.”
“Don’t you dare.” Her mother pointed at something on her chest.
She looked down and her mom tweaked her nose.
“Be a shame to ruin that fancy new sweater.”