Plain English had worked pretty well in the past, so he’d try it again. He walked his fingers to her hand and gripped as hard as he could, shocked at his meager muscle capacity. “I thought it was my time.”
She nodded and squeezed his hand in response, swallowing hard a couple of times.
“I saw the car coming, like watching a movie on fast forward. I tried to avoid him, right up until the last second, but there was another car in the next lane, and I jerked the wheel too far when I saw it. If I hadn’t swerved, he wouldn’t have plowed into the door.”
It was the worst place to be hit in a Corvette because it didn’t have a side panel airbag. He knew that like he knew the inside of a carburetor, but his reaction time couldn’t compensate for the blur of his senses as the Honda hurtled over the median.
Alexia inhaled. “You don’t have to talk about it. Try to rest.”
“No, I want to talk about it. This accident…” He coughed and it set off a new round of aches in his chest. It took his breath away, and he faltered for a minute until his head cleared. “The accident was the second worst thing to happen to me after losing you.”
He tried to shift closer, but the tubes didn’t stretch very far. There was nothing more miserable than being tied down when what he craved was ten frustrating inches away.
She put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Be still, honey. Talk as much as you want but stop moving.”
A machine started beeping faster, and her wide eyes shifted toward the sound. He didn’t care if it signaled a flatline, as long as he could get out what he had to say before the white light beckoned.
“I was trapped in the Vette, with my chest and everything else burning like it was on fire. I was convinced the engine was going to explode any minute, which only happens on bad cop shows, but I wasn’t thinking logically, you know?” He gave her a small smile. “I was scared.”
“Me too,” she choked out, and tears splashed down her checks. How could she ever have thought she’d seem weak because of a few tears? She was the strongest woman he knew. She’d have to be to put up with him.
“I was scared, but all I could think about was you. How I came up with this stupid patent deal instead of being a man about my mistakes. How unhappy I’ve made you. I thought I was going to die, and I fought to survive so I could apologize to you.”
The next round of tears welled, and she touched a fingertip to them. “You don’t owe me any apology.”
“Shh. Listen.” He tilted her chin and held it in place, so she couldn’t look away. The really important stuff was yet to come. “The side panel and the dash were all bashed in, and I couldn’t open the door. I couldn’t get out. It’s probably similar to a panic attack. You feel trapped. Powerless. I didn’t fully understand how awful it must be for you until then.”
Confusion sprang into her gaze. “Apology accepted?”
He laughed through the sharp pain in his ribs. “Wait, there’s more. I know I’m controlling. It’s how I cope with being afraid, and I’m sorry that’s the result. I want to be with you, but not because I forced you. Not because I didn’t give you a choice.”
If he’d been smart, he’d have figured out the key to winning a long time ago. He and Alexia were the same, and understanding her was no more difficult than looking in the mirror.
This relationship wasn’t big enough for two control freaks, and he needed Alexia too much to let his inability to cope with fear drive her away.
He looked her dead in the eye. “So here’s your choice. I’m dissolving the deal and taking my name off the patent, no strings attached. If you want to talk about having a baby, I’m okay with that too. I love you. Stay with me because you choose to.”
It was done.
She stared at him, lips slightly apart. “The doctor forgot to tell me you hit your head. You’re obviously delirious.”
A nurse bustled in and clucked over Jesse, then injected more painkillers into his IV. What sucky timing. She asked after his comfort and said the doctor would be in shortly to talk about his injuries, which meant nothing to him other than another delay.
The nurse left, and Alexia’s expression closed in as she scrutinized him for a beat or two. “Just like that?” she finally prompted.
“Just like that.” His lids drifted shut as all the energy drained from his body. Deathbed confessionals always seemed overdone and affected in the movies, but he unfortunately had a new respect for catharsis exhaustion.
“So,” he said, without opening his eyes. “Will you stay?”
She sighed. “I don’t know if I have enough bleats and mushy lamb eyes required to follow you trustingly to the slaughter.”
The slam hurt worse than his ribs, but it was deserved. Forcing his eyes open, he focused on her. “I went about this all wrong. Realized that, too. Should have bought you flowers and serenaded you at the window.”
Deflating, she bit her lip. “It wasn’t wrong. I can be stubborn. No, really.” She smiled at the mock shock Jesse composed on his face. “You had to go bold to get my attention since I snubbed all your other efforts. It was inventive, I must admit. Without the deal, we’d still be dancing around each other with no real progress.”
“Progress. That’s a good word. I think we’re definitely making progress here. You’re not mad about the patent? I’d want to punch me, if I was you.” He drifted as the new round of awesome pain medicine the nurse had injected into the IV snatched at his brain cells. A wonderful, floaty, cotton-candy-gauzy feeling took over his mind.
“No. I’m not mad anymore. Surprises me too.”
He fell a little more in love with her right then. She wasn’t mad. How great was that? She was the most awesome woman to ever walk the earth. And sexy. Awesome and sexy.
“Don’t leave if I fall asleep, ’kay?” he mumbled.
Whoa. Tunnel vision.
“I’ll be here. I—”
The doctor hustled in, thumbing through a clipboard full of papers. Jesse succumbed to the pink whorls dancing behind his eyeballs.
Jesse James Hennessy had conceded.
The patent was hers.
Alexia wished she could revel in it instead of tiptoeing around on eggshells waiting for the other shoe to drop. This was Jesse, after all, the master strategist.
He remained in the hospital for another day and a half, and Alexia shut down all his attempts to get an answer about her next move. Yes, she loved him. And he’d said he loved her—almost as shocking as giving up the patent. He’d never once said that to her, not in words. Jesse was an action sort of guy, and she’d always known he loved her without the words. That wasn’t their problem.
But still. The word love in his sexy-smooth voice had floored her, almost as much as the word baby.
The choice to stay should have been easy. But it wasn’t. Because the words would come with a price. What, she didn’t know yet.
Outlaw wasn’t going to disappear, and Jesse could very easily use it as a way to avoid her in the future when the next bomb exploded in their relationship. He still didn’t want kids, and only a near fatal car wreck and morphine could have gotten him to even say he’d talk about it. Talk about a baby, like there was room to negotiate or the decision could go either way pending a review of the pros and cons.
She didn’t believe for a second he’d really consider it. More likely, his concession had stemmed from a near-death experience, and he’d change his mind again later. Or use the discussion as leverage for something he wanted. And where did that leave her? Back to worrying that an accidental pregnancy would tip all the dominoes over again.
The panic attacks were better but not gone because she had one the sole time she went home for a five-minute shower. Obviously she’d been wrong about them being tied to forgiving Jesse for leaving. The next curveball lurked behind an unseen corner.
She had the patent. He wouldn’t go back on his word, no matter what. She could walk out of the hospital right now and never see Jesse again, which held zero appea
l despite it being her original plan. He’d given her a choice and when faced with the reality of making one, she couldn’t do it.
So she stayed by his side, foregoing sleep and food, and refused to examine the reasons why. Late in the day, Dr. Yen released him. Alexia nagged him into plowing through the mountain of paperwork, then herded him into the Silverado. She drove with one eye on Jesse and one on the road. His eyes kept drifting shut, but then he mumbled something she didn’t catch.
“What?” She tilted her head toward him.
“Stop at the Chevy dealership?”
With a snort, she eased off the gas pedal. “You don’t need to be behind the wheel again anytime soon.”
“You drive like a girl.”
“Yeah. But we’ll get there in one piece.” A semi bore down on the truck, grille flashing in the rearview mirror, and she switched lanes to let it pass. “Besides, why don’t you buy a nice, safe four-door? Or you can always drive the truck. ”
“Vette fits me.” His eyes closed again, and she let him sleep.
Yes, it did. As unsettling as it was to imagine him swinging into another rocket-fast sports car, it was more unsettling to think about telling him he shouldn’t get into one. She’d be trying to control him, just like she’d constantly accused him of doing to her.
A couple of news vans were parked on the street along the stone fence of Tres Lagos. What was that all about? Was Jesse’s recovery really news, or did they not have anything better to do?
The reporters weren’t getting an interview now, either way. She drove through the gates with Jesse asleep against the headrest. The pain medication did a number on him, and he seldom stayed awake longer than an hour or so, which the doctor advised him not to fight. He needed rest in order to heal.
She parked in the front instead of the garage so Jesse wouldn’t have to go as far to get into the house. Moki came out to help steer him up the flagstone steps with nothing more than a “Hey, Mr. Jesse.” He glanced at Alexia, mouth pinched and worried.
After they wrangled Jesse up the stairs and into the giant bed, Moki motioned her into the kitchen.
“Can this wait?” she asked, her patience thin.
The glass backsplash behind the housekeeper whorled into a giant mess of colors, and her legs were about to collapse. Her greatest ambition was to curl into a little ball.
Then she might try to take a shower, though she hadn’t been able to force herself into the little cubicle since the accident. She’d been taking baths in the giant garden tub when she had time to fill it, but with Jesse home, she didn’t want to chance it.
Moki wrung his meaty hands. “The news guys, they won’t leave. Mr. Jesse, he want to talk to them?”
“I doubt it,” she said. “The story’s not very interesting anyway. How long have they been here?”
Moki leaned in and whispered, “Since yesterday. They follow me to the grocery store, but I didn’t talk to them. They’re saying bad stuff about Mr. Jesse.”
“Wait.” She waved a hand. “What do you mean, they’re saying bad stuff? The accident wasn’t his fault. Maybe I should give them a statement.”
“Oh, they’re not talking about the accident. That’s old news. They’re talking about how he’s being investigated.”
Chapter 12
“Investigated?” The word didn’t make any sense. “Because of the crash? But you said they aren’t talking about it anymore. What’s going on?”
“All the news stations are talking about it. You not watch TV at the hospital?” Moki asked and then nodded sagely. “That’s the problem.”
Alarmed, Alexia grabbed Jesse’s laptop from the small desk in the kitchen and searched for Jesse’s name. Hits scrolled down the screen, and she clicked on the first one. Splashed across the top was a picture of the factory with the caption “Outlaw Manufacturing Investigated for Illegal Hiring Practices.”
Her heart twined into a pretzel. Rubbing sweaty hands together, she skimmed the article. The caption hadn’t lied. The attorney general’s office had initiated an investigation into allegations against Outlaw Manufacturing for hiring undocumented immigrants.
“That’s what this is all about? People fudge the line on visas all the time. People other than Jesse.” She spat at the screen.
“Don’t say anything to Jesse,” she said to Moki. “Let him sleep for now. He’ll have to be told eventually, but let me do it.”
“Yeah, Mrs. Jesse. No problem. I’ll make you dinner later.” The housekeeper shuffled off.
Where had they gotten such misinformation? This was going to kill him. Finish him off where the car wreck had failed. Well, now her decision was easy—she couldn’t walk out in the middle of this, not when he would need her support.
She called Ben. He answered on the first ring. She had expected voice mail and floundered for a second. “Ben. What in the world is going on with the attorney general’s office?”
“I’m so glad you called. How is Jesse doing?” Ben sidestepped the question. Not a good sign.
“He’s been better. But it’s nothing a few days in bed won’t fix. Of course, he’ll get no rest with this BS going on. Talk to me. Tell me what’s happened,” she insisted.
“It’s not good.” He sighed, sounding frustrated and weary at the same time. “They’ve been at the factory since yesterday, poking into stuff. They brought a search warrant with them, so it’s all nice and legal. Which means it’s on the record. All the news outlets picked it up.”
“But undocumented immigrants? It’s not true!” she burst out. “It can’t be. He’s always been excruciatingly honest and ethical in every part of his life, especially at his company.”
“Of course it’s not true, but we have to go through this dog-and-pony show regardless. It’s the way it works. I’ve been cooperating, and I’ve instructed the staff to do so as well in Jesse’s absence. The AG is aware of Jesse’s medical issues, but they’ve requested to talk to him as soon as possible. When can I come see him?” he asked abruptly.
Her mind raced, searching for a way to avoid all this, but it wouldn’t be fair to Jesse. He needed to have the opportunity to defend himself and his lifeblood. The thought of anyone saying Jesse had broken the law churned her insides. “He’s asleep now, but when he wakes up, I’ll tell him. Then I’ll call you.”
“Fine.” He paused. “It’s not any of my business, but you should know Jesse was a mess after you split up. I hope you know how much he cares about you. Hopefully, you still being there is evidence you’re headed for a permanent reconciliation.”
She ended the call and sank to the floor.
A mess. It was hard to imagine Jesse descending into such a state when he had cold calculation to keep him busy. With a sigh, she rubbed her forehead and admitted the sentiment didn’t really ring true anymore. At some point, she needed to start taking her husband at face value and stop reading into everything he did.
The difficult conversation ahead of her wasn’t going to get any easier. She tiptoed into his—their—room and watched him breathe. Every last part of her longed to crawl into the bed, to curl into his side, a habit she’d fallen into since the Bahamas. He kept her safe and protected in the dark. Nothing would give her greater pleasure than to protect him in kind from the crushing blow she was about to deliver.
The overstuffed recliner in the corner of the bedroom invited her over. She settled into it, legs draped over the arm, getting comfortable while she waited for him to rouse. Eventually, her eyes began to close and she drifted until waking with a start. She’d been dead asleep for a couple of hours and in the wrong position, judging by the crick in her neck. Stretching, she glanced at Jesse, who was awake. He blinked at her.
“Hey,” he said, his voice thick with pain medication. “I’m home now?”
“Yeah.” Her throat closed to see him struggling to reach coherency. “I drove you, and Moki helped me get you upstairs. I thought you were awake during the drive, but maybe not.”
“I vagu
ely remember. I just didn’t right away. You, come here.” He reached for her. He winced as the bandage on his thumb caught in the silk threads of the comforter.
“I’d better not. You’re nowhere near well enough for me to be in the bed with you,” she said.
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Alf.” He lifted the corners of his mouth in a tiny smile, a small semblance of his normal self. “I only want to touch you.”
Since it sounded like a good compromise, she complied. Gently, she sat on her side of the bed and took his hand. “Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
“No. I’m glad you’re still here. I half expected you to take the patent and leave.”
His lack of faith in her stung. “I wanted to be here. The patent is irrelevant right now.”
His eyelids drifted shut and then sprang up again, fighting against the pull of the pain killers. “I could sleep for a week. When will it go away?”
“I guess when you stop taking the pain medication. Does anything hurt?” Stop stalling. But he was so weak, and his energy should be put toward getting better, not worrying about Outlaw.
“Everything hurts. So I don’t see why I should take it. Don’t give it to me anymore, ’kay?” he mumbled and raised his eyebrows. “Am I naked?”
She laughed in spite of everything. “No. They insisted I dress you in real clothes before they’d let you leave the hospital. Hey, listen. There’s something I have to tell you.”
“About the wreck? I heard. The other guy didn’t make it. Did he have a family?” His speech slurred, but he was doing a remarkable job of holding up his end of the conversation. Strange, though, for him to speak without his usual silver tongue.
“They wouldn’t talk to me about him. But no, not about the wreck. It’s about the factory.” The sentence almost hadn’t come out, and she had to force the next words. “Outlaw is being investigated.”
“What?” He tried to sit up and cried out.
Panicked, she pushed on a shoulder to get him to lie back down, which he did, heavily. He had very little strength, and she disliked having to sap one little bit of it.
Married To Her Ex Page 16
