Chapter 25
Winnie didn’t sleep for more than an hour straight at a time.
Sometimes she woke crying, other times just restless with her legs feeling “runny” again.
When she would finally drift back off, I would just sit there, watching her.
Watching her chest move, watching her eyelashes flicker in her sleep.
Sometimes from her side, sometimes from under Tanner’s arm.
“Mom, I have to go to camp,” she says once the sun finally cracks the horizon.
She sits in her bed, eating her little breakfast of eggs and bacon, looking incredibly small.
“Honey you won’t be able to go today,” I tell her. “We need to get you home and resting.”
Her bottom lip wavers. “But the football game is today. Tan and I have been practicing.”
“I know. But I’m sure they will have football again this summer.”
“What’s wrong?” Tanner steps back into the room with vending machine coffees.
“It’s football day at camp and she’s sad she’s missing it.”
“How about,” he says handing me a hot paper cup. “Once you’re better, you and I can play a game of football? We will get Uncle Rhett to play, and even Jackie. We can make sure they both lose, how does that sound?”
She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Or we can play against your mom again and make sure she loses big this time.”
She smiles, much more content with that arrangement.
“Well.” A nurse pops her head in and gets some hand sanitizer. “It looks like we will be able to get you out of here soon. I’m June. How are you feeling today, Miss Winnie?”
“I need to go to camp,” Winnie tells her.
“You, my little friend, are not going to camp today. We need to make sure you’re ready to head back on Monday.” Then she narrows her eyes playfully at Winnie. “As long as you promise not to try anybody else’s snack again.”
Winnie agrees as June comes over and checks her temperature and her rash. “You’re looking great. Let’s check your breathing.” She takes the hot pink stethoscope from around her neck and presses it to Winnie’s back. “Take a deep breath for me.”
“If I breathe good, can I go to camp?” she asks and June laughs.
“Not today kiddo. Another big deep breath.”
Winnie follows her orders then blows it out.
“Everything is sounding great. We will have the doctor check her chart and get those discharge papers ready.”
“You don’t have your car here,” Tanner says to me now. “How about I go swap my truck for your van before they discharge her.”
“You don’t mind?” I ask, handing him my keys.
“Hannah.” He tips his head with mock annoyance, then points at Winnie before leaving. “Be ready for us to bust you out of here once I get back. Got it?”
“Got it,” she echoes.
When Tanner comes back, he brings back Winnie’s drawstring bag, and it’s stuffed full.
“I figured she would want clean clothes.” He hands me the bag, almost looking bashful. “I wasn’t sure what she would want, but her Cubs T-shirt that she loves is in there.”
I feel my heart skip over itself. “You didn’t have—” I start to argue, but I stop myself. “Thank you.”
“Is my purple skirt in there?” Winnie leans over.
“Yup. I’ll go pull the van up while you guys get ready.”
I shuffle through the backpack, and I spot a dress for me. And clean underwear too. A comfortable pair.
“Your husband is a good man,” June says when she returns with the paperwork.
“Oh he’s—” I begin to argue but the truth dies on my lips and Winnie only smiles. “Thank you. He is.”
Once I slip on my clean dress and get Winnie into her purple skirt and Cubs T-shirt, June wheels Winnie down in the wheelchair. The wheelchair she is now asking to keep. Outside we find Tanner waiting at the curb, with his arms crossed over his chest.
It shouldn’t make me feel the way it does seeing him posted up against the van, but damn. Then an image of bringing home a brand-new baby with Tanner flashes through my mind and it nearly sends me into a tailspin.
“Come on, Mom. It’s hot out.” Winnie tugs me toward him when I realize I stopped walking. I clear my throat and shove the thought away.
“Beautiful,” Tanner whispers in my ear as I shuffle next to him. He opens the door for Winnie and then motions for me to go around to the passenger side. “Factually, beautiful.”
“I can drive.” I shake the blush from my cheeks and reach for the keys.
“No ma’am. You got less sleep than she did.” He motions over his shoulder to Winnie in the back seat who playing with her sheep. “Hop in.”
I buckle in and let Tanner’s hand find mine, or maybe mine found his.
“Nice dress,” he says, placing our hands in my lap, his thumb running over my thigh.
I shake my head, biting the inside of my cheek to hide my laughter. “Thank you. My husband picked it out.”
He adjusts himself in his seat and slips his sunglasses over his eyes, looking smug as hell.
Back at home, Tanner carries a fake sleeping Winnie up to bed and I watch from the doorway as he lays her down and pulls her comforter up over her shoulders.
I am thankful this doorway is keeping me standing because I have nothing but weak knees, a pounding heart, and a sudden and very real desire to have this be a regular sight.
Tanner turns once we leave her room. “Do you want to nap for a little bit? I’ll stay up and listen for her.”
“I don’t think I could sleep even if I wanted to,” I tell him and head to the kitchen.
“How about a beer then?” he asks.
“You don’t have to stay. You’ve already done more than needed.”
He stands there with his hands in his pockets. “If you want me to go, I’ll go. If you want me to stay and have a beer, I am happy, if not inclined, to stay and have a beer. In fact, I would prefer it.”
I swallow. What the hell has gotten into me? The sight of him in his crumpled clothes alone has me more hot and bothered than I can even comprehend.
“A beer would be great,” I say eventually.
“Go sit.” He nods toward the couch. There’s a commandment in his voice that flushes through me. A commandment that has me following his order.
Tanner turns to the fridge, then finds the bottle opener in the drawer without even searching around. He walks over, hands me one, then turns and sits on the opposite end of the couch.
“Really?”
He tilts his head, amused at my tone. “What?”
“You’re going to sit over there?”
“Would you prefer to come sit over here with me?”
I take a long drink of my beer and shake my head. “No sir.”
“Sir? Did you really just call me sir, again?”
“Oh, should I call you husband?” I push his leg with my foot and he grabs it, then pulls both of my feet into his lap and begins to massage them.
“Did you expect me to just sit around the waiting room?”
I drop my head back onto the pillow because I cannot meet his eyes when his thumbs are sending a borderline orgasmic sensation through my body.
“No,” I admit. He moves his hands from my feet to my calves and then back to my feet. “Holy shit this feels good. Never stop.”
He laughs quietly, “I’ll never stop takin’ care of you.”
I fall asleep knowing he means it.