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“We’ll monitor him for a few hours, then release him.”
“I’ll stick around and drive you both home,” Jason said instantly. “Or I can take you to pick up his truck. Whatever works best.”
Kendra’s eyes filled with tears again. She stepped away from the bed while the nurse tended to Alvin. Jason’s heart ached for her.
He took her hand and led her out to the corridor, then gently blotted her tears with his thumb. “He’s going to be okay, sweetheart.”
The word slipped out; he couldn’t help it. Her gaze darted up to meet his. “You mean it?”
“You heard the doctor. It’s a small stroke and therapy should—”
“No. The sweetheart part.”
What he saw in her brilliant eyes made his heart turn over. He glanced up and down the corridor, then spotted a supply closet. Still holding her hand, he waited until the coast was clear, then pulled her inside it.
Thirty
Among the towels and cleaning supplies, they faced each other. Kendra had been through a roller coaster over the past few hours, but now everything went still. All that mattered was Jason and his steady presence and warm hands holding hers.
“Of course I mean it.” His voice was unsteady as he answered her “sweetheart” question. “Always.”
Her throat worked as she struggled to get words to come out. “After I left the house with Dom, everything felt wrong. Then Holly called and I helped her out, and I didn’t even want to get back into the Uber. I was so relieved when we stopped to get gas, and I knew I wasn’t going anywhere. Something wasn’t right. When you called about my dad, I figured that was the reason.” She laid a hand on his chest, feeling his heart thump against her palm. “But it wasn’t just that. When I heard your voice, I almost started crying. I love you, Jason.”
He shook his head, as if he didn’t believe her. “I know you’re upset, Kendra, but—”
“No. It’s not that. I love you.”
She could still see the doubt in his expression, and couldn’t blame him for that. After all, she’d been on her way to London an hour ago, with her ex. She had to make him believe, and that meant she had to be honest.
“When you told me you loved me, in the room with all the bongo drums, you know why I was so surprised? And why I didn’t say anything back?”
“Because I chose a room with bongo drums?” he asked cautiously. Despite his semi-joke, she could see him bracing himself for her answer.
“No, because you seemed different. Sure of yourself. Confident. Maybe…mature? All that time, I think I was seeing you as…young. I wasn’t seeing all of you. But you stood there in your uniform, all hot and hunky and loving and just, putting yourself out there, and I kind of…blanked out from surprise. I wasn’t ready.”
He squinted down at her. “That sounds sort of like a compli-sult.”
She burst out laughing. Oh Jason, sweet, wonderful Jason, always able to bring lightness to every moment. She loved him so much. “Face it, Jaybone. I love you. I want to be with you. I love being with you. You make me smile, you make me feel grounded, safe, happy, peaceful.”
“Peaceful?” He pulled her against his chest and nuzzled her neck. Warmth surround her, inside and out. She was with Jason again and everything was going to be okay.
“Here’s the thing. It takes a strong man to let a woman like me be everything she can be. I didn’t see it at first, but that’s because I was used to something different. With Dominic, I mean. With you, I feel like myself. Do you feel that way too?”
His cheek rested against hers. “You help me be the best of myself. I didn’t quite believe in that without you.”
That intimate confession made her heart swell.
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her on the lips, deep and gentle. Light filled her from her toes to her heart. It shone through her and into him and somehow managed not to set the supply closet on fire.
He paused only long enough to whisper, “You’re really not leaving?”
She shook her head. Before she could explain, a janitor opened the door and they sprang apart.
“What the heck?” he exclaimed.
“Fire inspection,” said Jason, fumbling over the words. “Lake Bittersweet Fire Department here. We got a report of—”
“Get the hell out of here. No smashing in my damn closet.”
