“Have a good night. Say hi to Thomas for me and tell the kids I can’t wait to see them,” I say.
“You too, sweets. See you in a couple weeks,” she says, and we end the call.
I slip on my jacket and drive home. The whole way home, I think of Bennett. Is Halo right? Should I take that leap of faith?
Chapter Twelve
Bennett
“You seem close with your therapist,” the nurse says as she takes my blood pressure. She’s a pretty woman with long brown hair and green eyes but there’s something about her that rubs me the wrong way.
“Not really,” I say dryly. I don’t want to give her ammo to ask more.
“Blood pressure is stable,” she says, leaning over me slightly to place the cuff back on the wall. It feels like she presses her chest into my face. I don’t like it one bit.
“Good. Thanks.” I keep my gaze forward and away from her.
“Can I get you anything, Mr. Sheridan?” she asks with a sweet voice.
“No, thank you,” I say curtly.
“You have yourself a good night,” she says, smiling wide.
I know women like her. I can tell she’s trying to get my attention and it isn’t happening.
“Good night,” I answer. She leaves. Why did she make that comment about me being close with Avery? I don’t think she saw us holding hands. We had pulled away before she came around the door, but why would she ask that question? I know Avery visits a lot of her patients.
I push thoughts of the nurse aside. Maybe it was nothing. I think of Avery. I’d love to take that elastic she uses out of her hair and watch her hair tumble down her back. I wish I could have more time to see her smile. Just to be around her. She’s so kind. So caring.
She’s had a rough life too. She’s a widow. I wanted to ask her a million more questions. She got pregnant at sixteen. Seems like she was alienated. She’s so strong, vibrant. She makes me want to be a better man. Problem is, hospital rules. I can’t get to know her better and have her risk losing her job. And what do I have to offer her anyway? Nothing.
I fall asleep. The next morning, Nurse Peterson is back. She’s nice and professional. I meet up with the doctor and they send me for an MRI. It takes longer than expected and I miss my appointment with Avery.
Sutton stops by my room later in the afternoon. We hang out. He doesn’t say anything weird about me and Avery, so I take it as a good sign. Hours pass, and I feel like I could lose my mind in here. I get up and use a walker to go to the bathroom by myself, which is a definite improvement. I take a shower on my own. Finally having privacy is nice. My legs aren’t stable enough to stand for long periods of time, but I use a chair.
Back in bed, I wonder when I’ll see Avery again. I don’t even have her number. If I had it, I could text her and no one would be any the wiser. I fall asleep.
The next morning, the doctor comes in.
“Your healing is on track,” he says. “Both the knee and back are looking good, which means we need to up your physical therapy. We need to get you strong,” he says assertively.
“Sounds good to me,” I answer, because that means I can leave this place soon and more physical therapy means more time with Avery.
“I’m going to recommend that swimming be added to your therapy sessions,” the doc says.
“Sure, I’m up for that,” I say. “I’m a strong swimmer. Was in the navy.”
The doctor’s lips turn down. “Mr. Sheridan, you’ve been through major surgeries; don’t expect to be where you were before. It’s going to take time, patience and perseverance. You may have to use a cane for walking from here on out. It’s hard to tell at this point. I don’t mean to sound like a downer; I just find that sometimes, with sailors of your caliber, your mind remembers your body in peak physical shape but after the trauma you’ve endured there can be setbacks, and the road to recovery isn’t always easy,” he says.
“That speech doesn’t sound too promising,” I scoff. Way to dampen the mood, doc.
“It’s not meant to hinder your motivation. I mean to say you’re a fighter. It’s inherent in you so now you need to use that fight to get your body strong again. Don’t give up because things seem difficult. It will get better,” he assures me.
“Is that a promise?” I ask.
The doctor smiles and his eyes wrinkle in the corners. “If you put your best effort forward, I think you can do it,” he says.
It isn’t a straight answer, but I get it. The hospital staff have been really focused on mental health and pressing the don’t give up theme. It’s true that when the pain was bad, I just wanted to die, but now I have something to look forward to—more time with Avery. She makes me want to be a better man. It sounds like she doesn’t have a whole lot of people in her life she can count on. Of course, I got my navy buds, and they are my family, but now that is going to change. Quinn is going to be a dad. Trevor is . . . I don’t know, and King is dead. Sure, Liam, Jackson and Mark are good guys, but we aren’t best buds.
“I’m going to give it my best.” I say, finally answering the doctor.
“Good. I’m glad, Mr. Sheridan. I’ll see you soon,” he says. He tucks his clipboard under his arm and leaves.
That afternoon, a transporter comes for me. “I’m here to take you for PT,” he says.
I can’t help my smile.
Chapter Thirteen
Avery
I’m waiting in the pool area office. Halo’s words ring in my mind. It would be better to wait until Bennett is discharged from the hospital. Then we could get to know each other better. I’m getting ahead of myself. He’s only said he doesn’t hit on other women. He’s never mentioned dating or a future. I really need to brush up on my dating skills.
He should be here any minute. A transporter will bring him to the change room and a nurse is inside to assist him into a bathing suit. Since I was just in the water with another patient, my hair is wet and so is my bathing suit.
The pool isn’t very busy today, but I do expect Kathy to stop by. She usually makes her rounds in the morning. Bennett is wheeled out to the pool area.
“Hi there. Good morning!” I smile to him like I would any patient.
“Enjoy your swim,” the male nurse who brought him out says to him.
“Thanks,” Bennett says with a friendly tone. He turns to look at me. “I feel like a real invalid. I can’t even lean forward to get my own trunks on.” He says it with a smirk, but I read between the lines. This part of the injury is always hardest on these men. They are used to being these big, strong heroes and suddenly, they need help with mundane tasks.
“Swimming is really good for strengthening the back muscles. Let’s work on getting you better,” I say. My goal is to always focus on the positive so my patients can leave their negative thoughts behind.
“Okay. What should I do?” he asks.
“Let’s get you standing first. You can hold on to me for support and then, when we reach the stairs to the pool, you can use the rail,” I explain.
“Okay.” He takes a deep breath to brace himself to stand. I help him up. “Is it okay if I help you remove your robe?”
“Yes,” he answers and my mouth waters at the thought. Guilt washes over me. Focus on your patient.
I slip the robe off his shoulders. He looked like a big man with his clothes on—well over six feet tall for sure—but now, with his robe off and his muscles on display, I’m thrown off. I don’t know why. A lot of soldiers and sailors are in peak shape. Bennett’s shoulders are cut and sculpted, wide and strong.
I walk him slowly over to the rail. He doesn’t say anything. When he reaches the rail, I say, “Slowly lower yourself into the water. It’s a perfect temperature; I’ve been in today.”
He does as I say and while he’s entering the water, I drop my robe. I wear the most unsexy speedo bathing suit for work. It’s black and plain. I get into the water after him then walk up to him.
“Geez, woman,” he hisses as his
eyes rake over my body. His molten eyes leave a path of heat in my own body.
I lean into him. “Please, Bennett. My supervisor could walk in any moment.”
He clears his throat. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers. “That’s it—I’ll behave now.”
His words wash over me like a warm salve. “Thank you. Come walk over to the wall. You should feel more stable in the water. If anything hurts, let me know,” I say.
I grab a flutter board, knowing the SEALS are strong swimmers. “Hold on to this. I want you to kick your legs out. Go slow and easy.”
He grabs the flutter board like I say and holds, plunging his body into the water so he can kick out his legs. It also puts his face equivalent to my chest.
“Avery, you’re ruining me,” he hisses. He takes me in, and I haven’t felt this sexy or wanted in . . . ever.
I look down at him, proud of the progress he’s made, but I also notice that my nipples have puckered involuntarily. Oh, my.
We move on to some more exercises. Bennett is clearly enjoying the stability the water provides and with the help of a support, he walks around the pool.
“You’re doing really great,” I say.
“Good morning, Avery,” Kathy’s voice calls to me from behind.
“Good morning, Mr. Sheridan,” Kathy says. “How are you feeling today?”
“Good. The water feels nice. I can actually move,” he says.
“Glad to hear,” Kathy says with a small smile. “I’ll catch you later, Avery.”
“Okay.” I smile.
Kathy leaves the pool area and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“That your boss?” Bennett asks.
“Yes,” I answer as he walks to me and I walk backward.
“Something is up with her. She seemed on edge,” he says.
“Don’t go using your SEAL skills on my boss,” I say quietly, a hint of laughter in my tone.
“No, I’m telling you to raise your guard because something is up,” he says.
His words jostle me. “I really hope not,” I say.
“Even if it is. We’re both consenting adults. Right?” he asks.
“Yes . . . but . . .”
“No buts. I won’t be in here forever. I want to get to know you better. Even outside this hospital. I know I’m injured, and I don’t have much to offer,” he says.
“Bennett . . .”
“Avery, please. Just hear me out fast. Give me your cell number. That way I can call you. No one would know it’s me you were speaking to. I’ll set my phone to unknown caller,” he says.
I laugh. “Have you thought of everything?”
“Maybe.” He bites his lip and a droplet of water rolls off. How I want to kiss him. Have my hands all over him. Run them over his shoulders and down to his six-pack. He has a light sprinkling of hair on his chest that runs down the center of his abs. Everything about him is sexy and masculine. My insides throb.
“Tell me your number. I’ll memorize it,” he says.
I shake my head. This doesn’t even feel real.
I give him my number.
When I look at the clock, I see that our session is over. I help him back on the pool deck and a nurse meets us to transport him to his room.
“I want to try and walk,” he says to the nurse.
The nurse turns to me for approval.
“Sure, just provide some support. He can walk to the change rooms but make sure he is in the wheelchair to transport back to his room,” I say. “It’s a hospital rule because they want to prevent accidents for insurance purposes, not because I don’t think you can,” I clarify.
“That’s reassuring.” He laughs with relief.
I laugh too. Bennett leaves and my stomach sinks as I consider the way Kathy said she’d catch me later emphasizing my name. I just hope I’m not in trouble.
Chapter Fourteen
Avery
I shower quickly and get my scrubs back on. I don’t have a patient for another ten minutes, so I head to Kathy’s office. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.
I reach her door and knock. She looks up from her desk. “Avery, perfect timing. Come in,” she says.
I take a few steps into her office.
“Have a seat.” She extends her hand for me to take one of the chairs in front of her desk.
My heart beats fast and I feel warm. Deep, slow breaths.
I take a seat. “Is everything okay?” I swallow hard, rubbing my sweaty palms on my thighs.
Kathy is a middle-aged woman with lots of experience here in the hospital. She’s been my supervisor from day one but right now, she looks worried, or is that confused? Divided? I wish I had Bennett’s skill at reading people.
“Something has been brought to my attention.” She frowns. “You know I think you’re a wonderful therapist and great person overall, but I wouldn’t be doing my job right if I didn’t take seriously what I’ve been told.”
“And that is?” I ask, sitting on the edge of my seat.
“One of the night nurses mentioned that you have been spending a lot of time with Mr. Sheridan and that there might be an inappropriate relationship between you,” she says.
I blink. Swallow. Blink. Fucking Monica. “I can’t imagine why someone would think that. You know I visit with most of my patients at night. You said it yourself—it helps them with recovery and makes their time spent in here more meaningful,” I say. I argue but a part of me feels like a fraud. Do I come clean to Kathy? I should. I know I should. I take a deep breath. “Kathy . . . I . . .”
She puts her hand up to stop me. “Avery Malone, you’re one of the nicest people I know. You’re kind and sweet, and I think it’s great that you’re so dedicated to our patients. Now, don’t say another word,” she says, shutting me up. I pin my mouth shut and stare, not understanding. “This hospital has rules and I need to focus on protocol. A complaint has been brought to my attention and I have to address it. Now that being said, I will need to remove you from providing Mr. Sheridan PT. That means he is no longer your patient.”
“I . . . uh . . . I don’t know what to say,” I murmur.
“There is a new patient that has come in today. You will meet with him at three thirty,” she says.
“Okay.” I nod, feeling confused. What just happened?
“This is a veteran’s hospital, not a school playground,” she says.
My eyes move from side to side as I try to decipher what she is trying to tell me in code.
No doubt seeing that I’m not getting it, she says, “Women can be catty, Avery. You need to watch your back. And if something does progress between you and the patient, please make it progress once he’s left the hospital.”
“Oooo-kay . . .” I nod with complete understanding. “Is that all?”
“He’s a real looker. Don’t let that one slip between your fingers,” she says.
My face must flush so hard. My stomach bottoms out at her words. I nod. “H-have a g-good af-fternoon,” I mutter. Gosh, she has struck me stupid.
“You too, Avery.” She laughs a hearty laugh.
I leave to go take care of my patient. Although I didn’t get into trouble, Monica brought a complaint against me and I had a patient removed from my roster. Hospital staff will know. They will question me. Cindy will ask questions. This is really bad but at least I didn’t lose my job.
I finish off the rest of my appointments for the day and head home. Things can’t get any worse, right?
Chapter Fifteen
Avery
After a long day at work, I walk through the front door. Music is thumping and I am pretty sure it is coming from Jessy’s room. She gets home two hours before me on most days.
I’m about to walk up the stairs when Aunt Bee walks out to me from the kitchen. “Hey there, Avery,” she says.
“Hi Aunt Bee,” I say. I’m tired and upset, and I hope she doesn’t have a million requests for me tonight.
“What a handsome boy our little Jess found herself
,” she says, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She must register my confusion, because when was Dylan here? She hasn’t met him. My gaze trails up the stairs where my daughter’s room is, the first on the left. “He’s in her room now. She actually does have a wild streak in her. She’s just like us,” she says. I don’t know what she means. My parents were happy free-loving hippies. I’m not sure how she met Uncle Jim. I don’t know why they don’t have kids because I never felt it was my business to ask, but I get her little riddle. My daughter has this Dylan kid in her room and the music is loud.
I don’t give Aunt Bee another glance as I take the stairs two at a time. When I reach Jess’s door, I’m not sure what to do. I can’t just barge in there. I don’t think I am prepared to see anything not rated G. Maybe they’re only listening to music and Aunt Bee has it all wrong.
This day has been one big debacle. I decide to knock. No one answers me. Okay, maybe the music is too loud. It’s so unlike Jess to play such loud music. I knock harder and longer.
“One minute,” my daughter shouts. With the music now turned off, I hear shuffling and whispering. My heart feels like it’s beating a mile a minute. I wait. I don’t know what to do as I feel a hammering in my chest. Then the door swings open and my daughter stands in front of me, bee-stung swollen lips, disheveled blond hair with strands sticking up. She’s got her clothes on at least. I look over at Dylan. His floppy hair is a mess, and his lips look wet and thoroughly used. I look between them, and I don’t know what to say. I’ve spoken to Jess about the birds and bees. She knows how old I was when she was conceived.
“What do you want, Mom?” she asks giving me an attitude I’ve never gotten from her before. I’d always considered myself lucky that she was this good, respectful and responsible kid, but I also wondered if she would rebel, or party, or eventually get a boyfriend.
Irresistible: A Salvation Society Novel Page 8
