Exton
“I don’t want to replay it right now,” she sighs, the fight almost gone from her.
“I get that, baby. Not interested in you going through it again, but need to know if the threat is neutralized or if there’s still something or someone out there.”
“I don’t know.” She’s finding ways to make herself smaller. My brave, bold, confident dragon slayer would curl into herself if given the chance.
“If you don’t want to tell me right now, promise me you’ll tell me by the time we get home.”
She squeezes her eyes shut, but I can’t have that. I tug her tighter to me with the arm I have over her waist and rest my mouth near her ear.
“Your right elbow needs surgery. It’s cast to hold everything in line and keep you from wiggling it as the swelling recedes.
Layton has a surgeon he recommends in Austin that can see you tomorrow for that surgery.
Or you could do it here. Wanted you to have the option.
Either way, probably six weeks for good use and ten or so before you can really work on clients.
He also knows a PT that can come to the house and work with you so that you have full range of motion.
Hell, she could probably help with exercises and recommendations on the repetitive things you do that would shorten your career if not addressed. That is, if you want.”
She nods.
I squeeze again. “Willa?”
She nods again, and I watch warm tears slide from her eyes. I roll her into me and hold her there, her tears staining my shirt, and she sobs. She cries until she’s out of tears and catches her breath.
She’s cockeyed. Between her cast and her brace, the knots on her head, my too-big frame in her bed, and our desire to be close, it’s not comfortable. But it’s right.
“Oh, get a room. Wait, you did,” Layton says, pushing in with four coffees and a white bag dangling from his other hand. “This place has a decent cafeteria.”
“We’ll leave that to be seen,” I say.
“No, really. It all looked and smelled amazing.” He looks at Willa and lifts the cardboard cupholder. “What’s your poison?”
“What are my choices?” She cranes her neck as if she can see through the cups.
“Black, black, chocolate with a dash of espresso, and vanilla latte.”
“Chocolate,” she practically screams and gets a little sparkle back in her turquoise eyes.
I make a mental note that coffee plus chocolate helps a sullen Willa Jayne. I knew about the coffee. The chocolate is new.
Layton hands her the coffee and passes me what I assume is a black one, and then passes the white bag over. She can’t grab it with her medical situation, so I set it on her lap after she resituates herself to sitting.
“Are we going home and getting you to my doctor friend for surgery, or are we staying here?” Layton asks, thumbing his phone. “Need to get a hotel tonight if we’re staying. If we’re going, I want to make sure Danny will be ready for you.”
“I don’t know whether to be annoyed that the two of you planned this while I was unavailable.
But definitely confused as to how you have a surgeon named Danny on your phone who can work on a patient tomorrow—” she looks from me to Layton “—because you texted him. That’s not normal, you know.
Hell, I’m booked out further than that…” Her words die on her tongue, and she dips her head, a lone tear rolling down her cheek.
Layton looks at me and sees something in my face that allows him to exhale.
“Would a news anchor really trust his elbows to anyone? I only know the best,” Layton starts.
“You’re no reporter. You’ve got the name for it, or maybe a male model. Layton Ranger. Can you turn left?”
I bark a laugh at the same time Layton says, “Woman, you bruise me.”
“Your ego, maybe,” I toss out.
He takes a slug of his coffee and sits back on the sofa, now playing cat and mouse and enjoying himself.
“Let’s just say, I know people.”
I try not to choke on my coffee. Yes, Layton is connected—well-connected, in fact—with movers and shakers, celebrities, politicians, supermodels.
But they all want something from him, and he knows it.
The fact he’s remained humble is testament to his character.
That and Mom and Pop keeping him grounded.
“Do these people know you know them?” Willa is needling him, and it is fucking fun to watch.
The door pushes open and in walks a doctor and three other white coats. The collective breath we suck in practically creates a vacuum in the room.
“Miss Jayne, I’m Dr. Rigsby. We’re a teaching hospital and these doctors are observing on rounds. Is that okay with you?”
Willa nods, but says little else.
“I understand Mr. Ranger has arranged surgery in Austin. Have you chosen to go that route?” Rigsby says as the others round the bed and begin their assessments.
One of the doctors flicks his eyes to me before swinging them to Lay.
“What do you recommend?” Willa asks.
“I know Dr. Tam. He’s renowned in the world of sports medicine.
We have excellent surgeons here and I wouldn’t hesitate having any of them operate on me.
But if this is a sports injury and location isn’t a factor, I’d choose Dr. Tam.
His reputation is excellent for getting people back to the field or the court quickly. ”
I see the wheels turning in Willa’s mind. It’s written all over her face.
“Thank you. I agree. When will I be ready for surgery?”
“You can be discharged tonight, but take it easy. The right elbow needs as much relief as possible, so the tapping you’re doing right now.” He looks at her fingers. “I would avoid as much use as possible. Let the swelling recede. Give Dr. Tam the best canvas to work with.”
The white coats have all regrouped behind Dr. Rigsby, who continues, “We’ll get your discharge papers ready.
Unfortunately, it’s a slow process, but you’ll be out of here tonight.
” He nods to her coffee. “Careful on the caffeine with the hematoma. Some is okay. More than some will have adverse effects.”
Willa groans just as the doctor who was checking me and Layton out, turns. “I know it’s not professional,” he says, looking to Layton. “But can I get an autograph?”
Willa gasps. Rigsby rolls his eyes. Layton is a deer caught in the headlights. I just laugh.