AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Settling in the uncomfortable chair, he automatically checked his phone. The business calls he’d transferred to Paige. She knew where to find him if anything new popped up. Once Vi recovered her feisty self again, his world could continue on its axis.
As if she mattered to him. Which she didn’t. Except she was hurting.
He found it difficult to separate her as a person from his emotional desire to help her through this ordeal. He’d come to terms with never having his foot back. But her? For reasons he couldn’t fathom, he needed her to recover and be herself again. Blunt. Sarcastic. Hopelessly cute when she was mad.
Machines whirred and clicked, reminding him of days he’d worked hard to forget. A nurse entered, giving him a bright smile. Entering numbers from the devices into her computer, she exited the room with a jaunty hip swing. The old Rory would have at least struck up a conversation. However, his accountability pact with Jesse and the horrible breakup with Stella had changed his outlook. He’d lost interest in flirting. The feeling struck him as surreal. Hunting for his next date had once been his favorite pastime.
Vi stirred. He hastened to her side and scrutinized her pale features. Too pale.
The desire to touch her again overwhelmed him. “You’d make my day if you’d wake for a bit.”
Earlier, he’d lifted her so Paige could pull her waist-length hair over one shoulder. He ran his thumb and forefinger down the loose braid Paige had plaited, then peered closer. Clusters of tiny purple crape-myrtle petals snagged in her hair, casting a fairy princess sort of spell in the room.
Her eyes remained closed. The hive on her face and neck had pretty much faded. Rory’s gaze traveled downward. Those lips. Adorable. Would she wake up if he kissed her? A machine beeped, and a red light flashed as if to warn him. He pulled back and stroked his beard.
Bad idea, bud.
Her long lashes lay serene in sleep.
Worst idea in eons.
At the last second, he amended the action he longed to take, settling for a sweet kiss on the forehead. One tiny smooch. Nothing creepy.
Coming out of an endless black corridor, Vi dreamed about mashed potatoes. The melt-in-your-mouth, buttery variety. Creamy. Perfect consistency. Starving didn’t begin to describe her hunger pangs.
Something touched her forehead, all woodsy and cinnamon. A feathery sensation brushed her cheeks.
Vi cracked one eye open and slowly looked around. What was Rory doing here? As a matter of fact, where was here? She gazed back at him. Elbows propped on the bedrail, his chin rested on his intertwined fingers. She raised a hand and touched her forehead. Had he kissed her?
“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” his rumbly voice teased, confirming her suspicions.
How had this happened? She’d never allowed Rory this close. She glanced at a bandage on her arm, then sniffed hospital antiseptic. Her eyes arrowed back to Rory. Oddly enough, his nearness didn’t bother her. Quite the opposite. She found his presence almost comforting. A thought pushed through her groggy mind—did this Casanova kiss as good as he looked? He hadn’t retreated but seemed to judge her reaction. Her gaze trailed to his lips.
As if he read the yearning she’d newly discovered, twin flares of delight warmed his gray eyes. His mouth stretched in a wordless grin.
Rory leaned toward her, his enticing mustache twitching a tad. Her eyes closed as his lips gently covered hers. Mm. The kiss deepened into pure pleasure. Vi forgot all about mashed potatoes.
Engaged in total bliss, Rory didn’t hear the door open.
“My stars, Violet! What are you doing?” a female voice demanded.
Rory froze in place. Vi jerked those soft, come-hither lips away. Bummer. He straightened, searching for the noisy source of outrage. Blast it. That lovely kiss had him all fuzzy-headed.
A small woman bearing an uncanny resemblance to Vi stood a couple of feet away from the bed. Clad in a teal-colored skirt and matching jacket, her hands balled into fists. Her behavior suggested Rory wasn’t even in the room.
She paused for breath and plowed on. “I let you out of my sight, Violet, and immediately, you go off and … and … I find you kissing—kissing.” Ending on a shrill note, she threw her hands in the air.
Rory wanted to call a timeout.
“I’m fine, Mother. Thanks for asking.” Vi sank deeper into the pillow, her eyes looking everywhere but at him.
Rory frowned. This indignant creature passed as Vi’s mother? Not exactly how he planned to meet her, if ever. She and Vi could have been twins. However, at the moment, they acted nothing alike. Vi usually stayed on an even keel—unless she was hightailing it away from him. He much preferred the way she’d been kissing him back.
Meanwhile, the woman continued to fire off volleys of words. “You are most certainly not fine, or else you wouldn’t be here.” She favored Vi with an icy blue stare. “Why, you’re covered with scrapes and bruises. What happened to you? No one would tell me anything!” She crossed her arms, apparently waiting for a full explanation.
Vi spared him a glance before she gazed with a bored expression at the ceiling. The plea in her eyes had been so fleeting he could have missed it.
Rory jumped into action, clearing his throat with gusto. “You know, ma’am, none of us knows the complete story. And”—he paused while his mind leapfrogged to a solution—“until Vi recovers enough to help us piece it together, any explanation will have to wait. The doctor gave strict instructions for her to rest.”
