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2
Esme
Despite my dad’s vocal misgivings about his baby girl going off with a strange (incapacitated) man for two months, here I sit at Destiny Bay Community Hospital. I’m waiting on Dallas Summers’s release and I’ve yet to actually meet him. I stuck my head in his room to introduce myself, but he was asleep and it felt rude to stare at him. Although what I did see was absa-freaking gorgeous. He was lying on his side and has a jaw that could slice cheese. And this thick dark hair that makes you want to run your fingers through it. Not to mention that because of his surgeries, he didn’t have any kind of shirt on. I wonder if he’s nice?
That question is answered with a definitive no when someone in maroon scrubs wheels him down the hall in a wheelchair. Dallas is wearing a scowl that would get rated as overacting if it were in a movie. But it’s not. And even worse, it’s currently aimed at me. I gulp and stand. “Mr. Summers? I’m Esme Havers, here to help while you recover.” I give him a weak smile and get an unintelligible growl in return. I’m slightly heartened by the fact that his scowl doesn’t quite reach into his eyes.
The man in scrubs looks tired. “Why don’t you bring your vehicle around to the door and I’ll get him loaded up for you?” Dallas’s scowl magnifies. He really doesn’t like needing help. Or maybe he hates being referred to in the third person. Either way, the only thing I can do to alleviate the situation is go get my car.
Even healthy, I’m not sure Dallas would fit in my student-grade faded-blue car, but somehow with the seat all the way back and his knees bent all the way forward, he’s in. I give a nod of thanks to the hospital guy and take a huge breath in while I walk around to the driver’s side. This is shaping up to be a long two months. I don’t even make an attempt at conversation when I start the engine and drive us out of the medical center grounds. Dallas has already made it clear that he’s not going to be responding with anything except grunts, glares, and hisses for the foreseeable future.
The lodge is a couple of hours away, so eventually I turn the radio on softly, to a classical station, figuring that’s supposed to relax people. And if I ask him his taste in music, I’ll get a grunt or similar and I don’t know where to find that on the dial. When I sneak a peek at Dallas midway to make sure he’s actually okay, his eyes are closed, but it’s obvious he’s awake. How much of this is pain versus orneriness, I wonder?
“Stay here until I can get someone to help,” I order him firmly when I park the car at the entrance to the lodge. He doesn’t answer me, so I exit the car and head in to figure out where we’re staying and how to get there. I have the instructions from his friends that made the arrangements. I’m glad he’s got that much support, at least. Maybe when he’s feeling better, he’ll tell me about this mysterious compound.
Dallas
Fuck, I’m tired. Not just physically. I’m sick of tubes and beeps and too many people asking me how I’m feeling. And worse, they send a sweet young thing with toffee-colored curls to take care of me. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t her. Somehow I’d gotten the notion that this mysterious caretaker would be either a fluffy dumb kitten that I could ignore completely or some kind of Soviet nanny that could bench press my weight.
No, instead I got Esme. She’s tall and curvy. Gorgeous and doesn’t know it. And too goddamn young. I’m scaring her and she’ll be damned if she’s allowing herself to show it, which has already earned my reluctant respect. That and she didn’t try to talk my ear off.No touching, Summers,I remind myself. That girl is strictly off limits. Forever.
Doesn’t mean I’m planning on following her rules, though. I unlatch the seatbelt and unwedge myself from her tiny clown car. It feels good to stretch my legs, but even that much movement has me leaning against the roof for support.
Tanner Finlay, trailed by an anxious-looking Esme, comes out the main entrance looking more relaxed than I ever remember seeing him. We were buddies in high school but went our separate ways into adulthood. I would have died a slow death doing what he did, school followed by a corporate desk, but there’s no denying he’s still driven. It seems to agree with him.
“You look like you went through the wash backwards, Summers,” he comments dryly while assessing the situation.
I nod in acknowledgment and a smidgen of gratitude for not being asked how I’m feeling. Finlay looks over at Esme with a kind smile. “You’ve got your hands full with this one, Ms. Havers.”
“Oh! Call me Esme. Can I leave the car here while I get our luggage? There isn’t much. I supposed I could park in the lot and…” She’s biting her lip with anxiety and it’s almost my undoing.
Tanner stops her with another fucking angelic smirk. It bothers me until I spot the wedding ring on his hand. When the hell did he get hitched? “It’s fine. In fact, why don’t you wait right here and I’ll send someone out with a cart while I help our patient to his room? Then I’ll come back for you and you can have dinner and rest, knowing he’s out of your hair for a few hours.”
I resent that even if I know it’s true. Esme nods uncertainly while without any warning Finlay loops an arm under mine and half drags me into the lodge towards the elevator.
“Thanks, I think,” I mutter as he leans me against the interior metal wall of the industrial elevator.
Finlay just grins. “You gave me the distinct impression you weren’t going to last another five minutes. Esme looks kinda young to be wiping your sorry ass.”
“Not my idea,” I growl, and Finlay laughs.
“I’m not one to point fingers. Turns out the perfect woman for me is seventeen years younger. It’s working for us.” He’s got this sappy smile on his face that tells me he’s happy as fuck. I don’t see that in my future.
“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and in bed for the lady,” Finlay says as he pulls me out of the elevator and into the first door in the hallway. It’s a nice space. Two bedrooms off of a central living room with a small kitchenette.
“I saved this one for you so you wouldn’t have to traipse the length of the corridor but I hear you’re supposed to be walking so I expect to see you marching down the hall on the regular,” he comments as he drops me at the entrance to the bathroom. “You’re on your own holding your dick, Summers,” he adds. And his only response to my growl is to laugh, but I notice he doesn’t go far as I shut the door and take care of business.
I’m exhausted when I sink down onto the luxury mattress, grateful for it and pissed off that I have to lie on my front for the foreseeable future. I hope someone went and got that poor girl at some point. Hate to think of her spending the night in the driveway. That thought briefly catches my attention, but then I hear voices outside my bedroom door and let sleep claim me. She’s here, she’s safe. We’re good.
3
Esme
I’m not a nurse. I studied wildlife biology in school. My hope is to get one of those research positions tagging eagles or marmots or whatever will get me out in the trees and away from the majority of people.
Still, instinct has me checking in on Dallas first thing in the morning. I knock softly in case he’s awake before opening the door but as soon as I do I can tell by his deep breathing he’s still out. I tiptoe in and sort of hover a hand over his bare shoulder, checking to see if he’s got a fever. If anything, he seems cold, so I bring up the lightest blanket from the foot of the bed and drape it over his shoulders. He mumbles something into the pillow and I scurry out.
Breakfast has already been delivered. Mr. Finlay explained to me that, as he’s well familiar with Dallas’s temperament, he went ahead and arranged for full meal service for both of us. Dallas isn’t on any restrictions so it will be healthy, easy to eat in bed food for a while but plenty of it and if there’s anything I don’t like I’m to leave a note with the dishes and Chef will adjust accordingly. It made me breathe a huge sigh of relief because translating the grunts into menu choices would be a nightmare.
