Keeping Gemma

by KB Winters

  Her words left me dumbfounded. I was so used to people subjecting their opinions on me—and immediately disregarding them—that what Gemma had said hadn’t even phased me. It had obviously weighed on her a lot heavier than it had on me.

  I shrugged. "Don't worry about it. You were just trying to help."

  "Thank you."

  "And, hey, for what it's worth, I hope you're right. Flying is my life. It’s like therapy, and I'm not sure what I’d do without it. Before the crash, giving up flying wasn’t something I would've even considered. I always imagined I'd be this kick-ass, ninety-nine-year-old clinging to my pilot's license with everything I had," I said, smiling up at her.

  Gemma's eyes sparkled as she laughed at my colorful depiction, the gray lifting like fog. "Well I hope you will. I’d like to learn to fly and it seems you’d be a hell of a teacher."

  I gave a hollow laugh.

  “Like I was telling you this morning, I used to be a nurse with the Army. I did a lot of in-flight stuff, and sometimes, I wondered if I’d missed my real calling. There was something about being a pilot that…I don’t know…it kinda spoke to me.”

  “Not enough excitement in the back, huh?” I’d never personally flown a medical chopper, but I’d heard enough horror stories from a few guys who had to know I hadn’t missed out on anything I wanted to be a part of.

  Between going into the worst of the worst to retrieve injured soldiers, there was also a heightened amount of stress to not only get out safely—but do it as fast as humanly possible or else you’d be flying a hearse instead of an ambulance.

  There was pressure, and then there was insanity.

  I’d never been much for choppers anyway. Jets were my passion. Old, new, rusty, whatever. I loved them all the same.

  “Plenty of excitement. Sometimes—most of the time—more than I really wanted. But I loved it. I was never the type of girl to sit behind a desk.”

  “I can see that,” I said, letting my eyes wander toward the hospital corridor outside my room. “Why haven’t you taken lessons? If you’re seriously interested?”

  She shrugged. “I haven’t had the time. I got out of the Army, took a position as a triage nurse in Chicago, and after a year of that, got the offer to come out here.”

  “Got it.” I nodded, processing what I’d learned about Gemma so far. She had so many layers it was hard to know where I wanted to start unwrapping. She was a beautiful woman, no doubt about it, but there was something else that had me hooked. A depth and history that intrigued me. "So, I know you worked your ass off with the Army, you’re a crackerjack doctor, and you obviously put in your time in the gym," I paused, a flicker of amusement at her subtle blush. "But what else? What else does Dr. Gemma like to do?"

  "Well technically, I'm not a doctor, but that aside, I’m not sure yet."

  "You're not sure you know what you like to do?" I raised an eyebrow at her.

  "No, no. Not necessarily. I just mean that I'm new in town and I'm still figuring out my routine. I just moved here from Chicago about a month ago so I don't really know anybody. I haven’t even finished unpacking. All the stuff from my apartment in Chicago is still boxed up, and I kinda open boxes as I need stuff. It’s a little pathetic.”

  “That’s not pathetic. Unpacking is the worst.”

  “It really, really is!” She giggled. “Anyway, I've been spending what little free time I do have, soaking up the sun and the sand. After all, that was the big draw that got me here in the first place."

  "A beach bunny in the making," I said with a grin.

  "Something like that."

  "Well, I'll be out of here soon enough, and I make one hell of a tour guide." I waggled my eyebrows at her, smiling even broader when she burst into her beautiful laugh. "What? That's not a convincing enough offer?"

  "It is," she hurried to reply, still giggling. "I was just picturing you in one of those safari getups, you know the khaki shorts and the broad brimmed hat to match. Like the guy from Curious George."

  "Shit, that's even colder, baby."

  Gemma’s giggle faded, but the amusement still glimmered in her eyes. "You're right. Just for that, I’ll agree to go on your grand tour."

  "I don't know if I want to take you anymore," I said with mock disapproval.

  Gemma punched me lightly on the shoulder and I cradled the spot as though she’d dealt a mortal wound. "Hitting your patients? I think I'm going to need to speak to your supervisor, young lady."

  Gemma ignored my protest. "I have tomorrow off, but I'll make sure they take good care of you when you're discharged." She stood and started toward the door of my room. My eyes followed after her, taking in the way her shorts clung to her curves with each purposeful stride.

  “Stop staring at my ass, Rosen,” she called over her shoulder, not looking back.

  I chuckled and lay back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling tiles.

  This is gonna be fun.

  17

  “You ready to rock and roll?” Jack asked, the following afternoon, once all the red tape had been cut to get me out of the hospital. He braced his hands on the handles of the wheelchair I was forced to use.

  “Yep. Let’s blow this popsicle stand,” I replied dryly.

  Holly and Carly came around the corner and they both broke into wide smiles at the sight of me out of bed and dressed in street clothes that Jack had brought from my house. “Looking good, Rosen,” Carly said.

  “You too, gorgeous.”

  Holly laughed. “I don’t know why you two can’t be a couple. You’d be absolutely adorable together.”

  Jack chuckled and started pushing me forward. “Don’t bother, Holly. Carly’s too smart to fall for Player’s tricks.”

  “It’s true,” Carly replied. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to my cheek as Jack rolled me past. “I am glad to see you back to your old self. I’ll see you at the cafe, soon, okay?”

  “You got it, gorgeous,” I agreed, although it was hard to think ahead to when I’d be back to my old self. It was odd to get dressed in normal clothes. A nurse had been there to assist me—happily, I might add—but once she’d left the small bathroom, I’d looked in the mirror and almost didn’t recognize myself.

  My normal scruff had grown out into the beginnings of a full beard, my eyes had dark circles under them from the fitful sleep I’d been getting since my arrival, and there was a spooky hollowness to my expression that hadn’t been there before.

  I wanted to blame it on the lack of sleep, but I knew it was a deeper problem. A few days with a bottle of sleeping pills, a comfortable bed, and black-out shades wasn’t going to fix it.

  Unfortunately.

  Boomer and Holly got me into the backseat of their rental car and we took off, down the highway from the hospital to Holiday Cove. The hospital serviced three nearby cities and was in the middle of all three, right off the 101. As we got closer to Holiday Cove, I looked out the window, knowing we were nearing the crash site.

  “Aaron, you might—”

  “I know,” I said, interrupting Jack’s warning. “I need to see it.”

  A few seconds later, it came into view. “Fuck, man.”

  “Yeah. You’re lucky to be alive.” Holly said as we gawked at the crash site. I know she didn’t mean anything, but I couldn’t help but think about Talia. She wasn’t so lucky.

  The area was taped off with a yellow police tape, and I was surprised to see the area was still secured with police cars and some important-looking men in suits.

  “Are those the FAA agents?” I asked, not tearing my eyes off the wreckage. The nose of the plane was what had impacted the beach, and despite the sand, the crash had been too fast, too sudden, and the damage was evident.

  The windshield was shattered, all the glass blown out. The side was twisted and mangled—torn apart like a tin can and it looked like there were charred pieces of metal lying amongst the broken plane. Had there been a fire? I couldn’t remember it, but I’d blacked out before t
he paramedics had even arrived.

  I shuddered at the thought that a fire could have been erupting around the plane with Talia and I still inside of it. I couldn’t imagine what would have happened if the rescue crew hadn’t arrived when they did. I’d seen burn victims before, and knew that in many cases, survival was almost worse than death. The sheer pain of treatment was enough to make it damn near impossible to get through it.

  From the highway, I couldn’t see any blood, but I knew from my fleeting memories, that the inside must be coated in it. From both Talia and me.

  “Do you want to go look?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. I’m okay. I just want to get home.”

  Boomer cleared his throat and pushed the gas a little harder as we started up the hill to the bluff overlooking Holiday Cove.

  Jack and Holly helped me get inside my house and showed me how they’d rearranged the furniture in my living room to accommodate my bed. That way, I didn’t have to worry about going up the stairs. My stitches and incision were still painful and it didn’t take much to get me winded and exhausted. Going up and down the stairs multiple times a day wasn’t an option. At least not now.

  “Thanks you guys. This looks great.”

  “There’s a bunch of food in the fridge, too,” Jack said, crossing to the kitchen. He threw open the fridge to prove his point and I peeked over his shoulder at the stack of casserole dishes and full Tupperware containers. “Holly cooked up a bunch of stuff and then Carly sent some stuff too.”

  “Thanks Holls,” I said, turning around to look at her. Jack had sure found a good woman. I wasn’t the type to settle down, but Jack was, and he’d found the perfect woman for him when he’d met Holly. Lucky bastard.

  A flare of pain radiated through my side and I moved to sit on the edge of the bed in the living room. I grunted as I maneuvered to get comfortable and Holly rushed over to help, moving pillows and blankets out of my way until I stilled and exhaled deeply. “How long until you guys have to go back?” It was the question I’d dreaded asking for two days. I’d missed Boomer more than I’d been willing to admit and seeing him again had brought those feelings back up to the surface again. The idea of him flying back to Germany and not coming home again for another year was more than I could take. Especially with everything around me going to shit.

  Jack cut a glance at Holly. “In a couple of days. I have to get back to work, and we need to get back to Princess and Hunter. They’re at a kennel right now, but we don’t want to leave them locked up for too much longer.”

  I nodded. “I understand. I’m surprised you were able to leave in the first place. I mean, we’re not technically family.”

  Jack laughed. “Well, you’d be surprised what you can get away with once you become a national hero.”

  Holly rolled her eyes, but I could tell from the glow in her cheeks that she was proud of her man. I laughed along with him. “I’ll bet.”

  “So, any requests before we go?” Jack asked, coming to take a seat on the couch they’d relocated to the far wall, wedged between the coffee table and love seat.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I probably should get back over to the museum sooner or later.”

  Jack and Holly exchanged a dark look.

  “What?” I snapped. They both offered me blank looks. “What’s going on?”

  Jack sighed. “There’s some issues over at the museum.”

  “Issues?” My body stiffened. “What kind of issues?”

  “There’s been a protest going on since the news story broke. One of the news outlets ran with some ridiculous story and it got a lot of people upset. Some of them organized a picket. Outside the museum. It’s been peaceful so far…but a nuisance for your staff.”

  “I have to get over there and put a stop to this bullshit,” I said, a flush of anger surging through my veins. I braced my good fist under me and lifted. A blast of pain hit me like a lightning bolt and I fell back. All my strength sapped as I panted and winced through the radiating pain.

  “Aaron!” Holly raced over to my side. “Remember what the doctor told you?”

  I cringed and reached for my side, gingerly pressing to hold back the pain.

  “I’m calling Gemma,” Holly declared, standing from the side of the bed where she’d been perched.

  “Gemma?” My eyes flew open.

  “Yeah, she gave me her personal number and told me to call if we needed help. I think this constitutes.”

  I weakly protested, but Holly ignored me as she took her cell phone into the other room. Moments later, I heard her talking to Gemma, and from what I could hear, making plans for Gemma to come to the house.

  Sure enough, half an hour later, Gemma was at the front door. Holly ushered her in and she strode into my living room like she owned the place. “Impressive, Rosen. I gave you a whole six hours before you disregarded doctor’s orders and popped a stitch…you’ve managed it in two.”

  I ignored her baiting and she smiled as she came near. “Let’s take a look.”

  Holly and Jack shuffled out of the room as Gemma reached for my shirt and pulled it up to check my wound. I sucked in a breath as her fingertips brushed the skin around the thick bandages. “Does that hurt? I barely touched you.”

  “I’m good,” I said, exhaling slowly. “Also, contrary to your sadistic little wager, I don’t think I popped a stitch. I just tried to get up too fast and my body let me know about it.”

  I knew I was being crass and grouchy, but I didn’t care. Pain engulfed my body and the exhaustion was running me to the ground. I needed a long nap. Until I got one, I was going to be an asshole.

  “I’m going to take these bandages off and check the incision and redress it.” Gemma didn’t leave room for argument as she laid out her plan. She got up and swooped back out the front door. When she returned, she had a small, black medical kit tucked under her arm. She laid it down on the bed beside me and reached for my shirt. This time, she tugged it—ever so gently—up and over my head.

  I watched and had to fight a smile as her eyes roved over my muscles. After Boomer’s last visit, I’d been hitting the gym harder than ever, and the results showed. Gemma obviously noticed too.

  “See something you like?” I teased, realizing after the fact that she’d probably seen more than just my bare torso as she’d worked on me the first night in the ER.

  Gemma’s eyes flashed to mine, holding my stare for a moment, before she rolled them. “Focus, Rosen. You’re worse than a hamster on Adderall.”

  I laughed but stopped short at the flash of pain from the sudden movement. “Fuck,” I ground out between grit teeth.

  “Hold still. This is probably going to get worse before it gets better.”

  “Fan-fuckin-tastic.”

  Gemma worked her fingers over the bandaged area with sure but gentle fingers as she peeled away the tape and gauze. I glanced down and sighed. It looked worse than it had the last time I’d sneaked a peek. Great.

  “Well, the good news is that you didn’t pop a stitch,” Gemma said, rummaging in her medical kit. “The bad news is I have to spray some of this on you before I can put you back together again.” She held up a bottle of spray antiseptic and I grit my teeth harder. I knew the feeling and I was so not a fan.

  “Go ahead.”

  She held up a hand. “Here. Squeeze as hard as you want. I promise I can take it.”

  I arched a brow at her offered hand. “What am I? Five years old?”

  She shrugged and sprayed the area.

  I gripped her hand.

  Hard.

  When she finished, she applied a fresh bandage and helped me shrug back into my shirt. “Here,” she said, handing me a couple of pills. “For the pain.”

  “Thanks.” I downed them with a hard swallow. Gemma got up and retrieved the water bottle that had been left by the front door. She handed it to me and I chased down the dose of painkillers with a long chug.

  She took the bottle back and set it on the floor
beside my bed. “Are you going to behave? Or do I need to stay and keep an eye on you?” She smirked down at me and for a split second, I wondered if she was fishing for an invitation to stick around.

  “That’s up to you. I think I can manage, but if you’d feel better on supervision duty…that’s on you.”

  She laughed softly and shook her head. “Are you always this impossible? Just ask me to stay.”

  I chuckled. “All right. Gemma, would you like to stay? Boomer and Holly were gonna go grab some burgers and beer for dinner from this place called Harvey’s. You been there yet?”

  She shook her head. “No, but it sounds good.”

  “All right. Why don’t you go tell those two pussies that the blood and guts are gone and they can come get our order.”

  Gemma laughed as she went to the adjoining room to get Jack and Holly. They took off a little while later to go get the food and Gemma stood by the door, her arms folded over her chest, staring out the front window. “That’s the museum?”

  “Yeah. I’d offer to go take you around—you know, tour guide and all that—but whatever you gave me is kicking in, in a big way…” my voice trailed off as I relaxed back against the pillows, no longer able to hold up my own head.

  Gemma came over and sat beside me. “That’s okay. There’ll be other days.”

  “What were you doing when Holly called?” I asked, shifting my eyes to her. She looked like she’d come from walking the beach, but I’d learned that she looked that way whether she’d just pulled off a twelve-hour stint in the ER, got done with a workout, or was drinking coffee in the morning. She had an effortless beauty to her that only enhanced her gentle but steady spirit.

  “Nothing super important. I’ve got this idea in my head to grow a little herb garden. See, in Chicago, I lived in a high-rise apartment. I didn’t even have window boxes. But here, I’m renting a little beach cottage and the previous tenant must have had a green thumb, because there are these little garden spots all over the back yard. I just kind of want to keep that going, and figured, my first foray would be herbs and spices.”