Falling Into You: The Complete Naughty Tales Series

by Nicole Elliot

  “Do you have it in you to do it one last time?” she asked.

  “You seen these arms?”

  “Plenty of times. They aren’t very impressive anymore,” she said coyly.

  “Not impressive?” I asked. “I’ll show you impressive.”

  I did twenty tricep dips instead of just ten before I sat myself back down onto my feet. Then, I got brave. I put my good hip forward and pushed off, then pulled my bad to the front and stepped down onto my foot.

  Grace’s eyes were alight with happiness as I gripped the railings beside me.

  But oddly enough, I didn’t feel like I needed them.

  “I know you feel it. I see it. Drop your hands, Hayden. Trust me.”

  I looked up into her eyes as my hands fell to my sides. I stepped forward with my good hip again, then paused. This was it. This was either the pinnacle of what we’d worked for or it was going to fail exponentially. And I was tired of failing. I steadied my arms out as I pulled my foot forward, and I could feel the implant underneath my skin. Rolling steadily along as my muscles worked in my favor. I placed my foot in front of me and took my first unassisted step, then brought my hands back down onto the railings beside me.

  Grace’s smile was so broad it shut her eyes.

  “Good,” she said. “Really, really good.”

  “What just happened?” I asked. “What did you do?”

  “I harnessed the two things in life that are highly underrated,” Grace said. “The magic of good blood flow and the unwavering dedication of a man to his ego.”

  I bit down onto my tongue as a grin crossed my face.

  “That’s enough for today however,” Grace said. “You ready to get back to your room? I believe it’s almost dinner time.”

  “Will you be eating with me?” I asked.

  Her eyes fluttered up to mine as she ducked underneath the railing. She came over and hooked my arm over her shoulders, then slowly backed me out of the contraption that was helping me to walk. She helped me back into my wheelchair and I grabbed her hand, forcing her gaze down to mine.

  “Grace?” I asked. “Will you have dinner with me tonight?”

  My eyes danced between hers as she turned my question around in her head.

  “Sure,” she said. “I’d love to.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Grace

  “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages,” Emilia said.

  I embraced my friend as the two of us stood in our favorite cafe.

  “Because we haven’t,” I said with a smile. “It’s good to see you.”

  “You too, Grace. Come on. Let’s get some food.”

  “The usual?” I asked.

  “Is there anything better?”

  The two of us ordered our sandwiches and soups along with our favorite local dessert-- cinnamon swirl holes. A cross between a cinnamon bun and a doughnut hole that made me salivate every time I walked by the place. We grabbed our teas and waited for our food, but I could tell something was on Emilia’s mind.

  “Everything okay at the shop?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah. Been busy though,” she said.

  “Have you hired someone else on to help?”

  “I was actually hoping to ask you about that.”

  “Order up!”

  I reached for our food while Emilia grabbed our desserts.

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “What’s there to talk about?”

  “I just wanted to see if maybe I could get you to come back and work with me part-time.”

  “You know I can’t do that. I’m still working with Hayden.”

  “Does he need you twenty-four-seven like he did? Because it’s almost wedding season and I really could use someone who’s already familiar with the floral arrangements we specialize in.”

  “You mean because I made them for you?” I asked with a grin.

  “Partially. I’ve felt your absence since you took this in-home nursing job. And don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you. It’s obvious you’re enjoying what you do. But if your patient has gotten to a point where he doesn’t need you all the time, I was hoping to pay you for some of that time so you could come work and help me out with the orders. They’re already starting to pile up.”

  “Well, Hayden’s recovery is going well. He’s still in the hospital, but he took his first unassisted step a few days ago.”

  “That’s good! That’s really good. Quicker than you thought, right?” she asked.

  “Much quicker. But he’s a stubborn, bull-headed man. So it shouldn’t shock me.”

  “Will you still be full-time with him once he’s discharged?”

  “He’ll still need me for a lot of the time during the day. He’s more independent with his own personal things since his arms and ribs have healed-- like bathing and getting dressed-- but there are still a lot of other things that have to be taken care of during the day. Like keeping up with his medication, drawing blood. I’ll probably have to take over cooking again until he can get his strength back up in his hip.”

  “God bless him,” she said with a grin.

  “My cooking’s not that bad,” I said.

  “I love you, but every time you cook for me I pray to anyone that’ll listen.”

  The two of us giggled before we dug into our food. It was flattering, in a way, that Emilia wanted me back. But I wasn’t sure if Hayden could operate safely without me there. Even for just three or four hours out of the day, there were so many things that could go wrong. He could trip putting on pants or stand for too long and wear down the internal stitches he had put in. He could fall and injure the implant and we’d be right back in the hospital with another issue on our hands.

  Then, there was broaching the issue with him and his family. Talking to them about no longer being a full-time, around-the-clock nurse. If I was going to be using Hayden as a reference, the last thing I wanted to do was back out of the job I committed myself to in favor of another gig. That would look terrible, and it would quickly tank the only reference I currently had in the community.

  I just wasn’t sure if I could take that risk.

  “Already mulling it over, huh?” Emilia asked.

  “Just thinking about some obstacles,” I said.

  “Want to talk about them?” she asked.

  “I mean, there’s the obvious. Leaving Hayden for even three hours a day poses so much risk that he could easily wind up back in the hospital. Then there’s the issue of backing out on a job before it’s finished. If I want to take on the in-home nursing world, Hayden and his family are the only references I have right now. If I willingly back out-”

  “It doesn’t look good on a reference. Got it,” she said. “But there’s something else.”

  “What?”

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I can see it in your eyes, Grace. Even if you haven’t admitted it to yourself yet, there’s something else holding you back.”

  “Maybe you’ve been sniffing too much fresh dirt in the back of that shop,” I said with a grin.

  But she was right. I didn’t want to admit it or say it out loud because of the questions that would follow-- nor was I sure how she would react-- but I wanted to be with Hayden full-time. I didn’t want to leave his side. I’d been with him constantly for the past three months, and I was slowly beginning to forget what life had been like without him. I enjoyed his presence. His countenance. His stubborn ways were frustrating as hell, but he was strong. An independent man who could do anything he put his mind to. I was beginning to see that during his recuperation and it was fascinating.

  It made him beautiful, and I wasn’t ready to leave yet.

  “How’s your food?” Emilia asked.

  “Hmm?”

  “Your food, Grace. How is it?”

  “Oh, it’s good,” I said.

  “Uh huh. You wanna tell me what sucked you into la-la-land over there?”

 
“Still mulling your proposition over. Weighing the pros and cons. That kind of thing.”

  “Ever the planner,” she said with a smile. “Let’s change the subject then. I don’t want to waste our lunch together stuck on something that doesn’t have an answer yet.”

  “Okay. You said you’re getting backed up with orders already?”

  “Oh yes. It’s been a mess. Tristian’s circle is huge, so anyone he talks to, books. On the one hand, I’m glad people are getting their orders in early. It helps me to figure out how much I need and gives me more time to track everything down, but it’s a lot. I easily have half as many orders preseason as I do throughout the entire season and the season hasn’t even started yet!”

  “I think I followed that.”

  “And do you know what’s big this year apparently?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Azaleas.”

  “Oh no.”

  “Oh yes. The bane of my existence. I’d rather grow and cultivate any other flower but those devilish things. And apparently, Pinterest has dictated that it’s all the rage for bouquets and boutonnieres this year.”

  “Of course it did,” I said.

  “So I’m already planting those suckers and having to cultivate them and find them in other areas. And let me tell you, I’m not the only florist who isn’t happy about that.”

  “I don’t doubt it for a second.”

  “Why can’t it be daisies? Or tulips? Those are easy to grow. Easy to cultivate. Hard to kill. But azaleas? They’re the perfect combination of ‘delicate as hell’ and ‘disgusting if you do it wrong’.”

  I giggled as I took another bite of my sandwich.

  “I really could use you,” Emilia said.

  “I know. And if I can swing it, you know I will. But my primary concern is Hayden, and he has to be at the forefront of my mind until he can operate on his own with minimal risk. And we just aren’t there yet.”

  “I know. I know. I get it. But part of me wishes I would’ve put up more of a fight to keep you.”

  “I love you too, Emilia. But there is good news in all this.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “At least you aren’t having to hang those azaleas from wicker arches the bride walks under.”

  “I’d willingly go under if that was the case,” she said flatly.

  I threw my head back and laughed.

  “How about this? If you need help making calls to other florists in the area, give me their numbers. I get a few minutes here and there when I’m with Hayden, so I can make those calls for you.”

  “That would help me out a lot actually. Tristian keeps offering up his new secretary, but she’s swamped with him.”

  “Not a problem,” I said. “But you have to do something for me.”

  “Oh I’ll pay you for your time.”

  “But not in money. I want you to tell me all of the public meltdowns the bridal parties have. I want all the juicy gossip.”

  “You’ve got it,” Emilia said. “And thank you again. The phone calls alone are sucking precious time away from trying to get every single color azalea known to mankind grown in that back room.”

  “I’ll help in any way I can,” I said.

  I finished my lunch with her, then hugged her goodbye. Our lunches were few and far between, but I needed them. Every once in a while we could talk on the phone at night, but even those were growing less frequent. I watched her get into her car and drive away, then I turned to mine and sighed.

  It was back to the hospital for me. And if we were lucky, Hayden would be sent home before the week was out.

  Which meant I’d have an answer for Emilia sooner rather than later.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Hayden

  I reached for the refrigerator door and lost my balance. We had just finished my physical therapy and I was hungry as hell. And of course, Grace had gone to get a shower. I could hear the water running as she washed herself down, so I figured I had enough strength to hobble into the kitchen and get myself a snack. I knew she wouldn't approve, but it was about damn time I started moving around by myself. It had been five weeks since that fucking surgery, and I needed my life to get back to normal again.

  Then, as if my leg didn’t fucking exist any longer, it gave out on me and I fell to the floor.

  “Ah! Shit!”

  “Hayden?”

  “What the fuck!?” I asked, groaning.

  “Hayden? What’s wrong?”

  I could hear Grace slam out of a door somewhere as wet footsteps fell onto the floor. She was running around the damn apartment trying to find me, and it dawned on me out much of an inconvenience I was to her. The woman couldn’t even take a fucking shower without me screwing up her world and worrying over me. I gripped my hip and clenched my teeth, trying to find a way off the damn floor before she found me.

  But every move I made sent blinding pain shooting up my side.

  “Hayden! Where are you!?”

  I couldn't breathe in deeply enough to call for her. And part of me didn’t want to. I’d been in physical therapy with my hip for all of three damn months, and it was time I was upright again. It was time I got back to my work. To my world. To making money and building hotels and running shit the way it needed to be run. I was putting off investor meetings and flooding my COO, Mike, with way too much shit.

  And the worst part was he was doing a really good job. With every passing day he was in the driver’s seat, it made me look worse.

  I had to get back to my company and show them why I fucking ran the damn place.

  “Oh my gosh. Hayden. Come here.”

  I was groaning and holding my head, trying to abate my embarrassment. I could hear that tone in her voice. That small tone women took with stubborn toddlers. I hated that fucking tone. I hated that she saw me as beneath her. As some insolent child she had to take care of instead of a man who could take care of her. Grace squatted down onto the floor, trying to be careful in her movements, but once she reached for me something snapped.

  I smacked her hand out of the way to try and get her to leave.

  “Hayden, what in the world?”

  “Get the hell away from me,” I said.

  “We have to get you off this floor. I have to get your pants off and-”

  “I said… get the hell away from me, Grace.”

  I was angry. Fed up. Embarrassed. Grace deserved better than this from me, and I knew I could give it to her. I knew I was capable of giving it to her. I just had to start fucking walking again. Why wasn’t any of this shit working? Grace praised me day in and day out like I was making massive strides, but I couldn't even make a damn sandwich on my own!

  I was pathetic, and she didn’t need to be seeing any of it.

  “Hayden, we have to get you off the floor. I have to take a look at you,” she said.

  “Leave me here,” I said.

  “That isn’t an option. I’m your nurse, and-”

  “Well, you’re a shitty one.”

  “What?” she asked.

  I felt my anger bubbling out of control. I felt my veins bulging from my body. Every misstep. Every surgery. Every day I was absent from the office and every day someone kept me out of the loop with something came boiling over. I was being forgotten. Replaced. People were giving up on me. On this recuperation. There was talk of my not returning at all. Talk of me selling off my controlling shares and living the rest of my life in seclusion.

  But that wasn’t fucking happening.

  I was going back to work tomorrow.

  “Who the hell takes a shower in the middle of the damn day? You’re supposed to be watching me,” I said.

  “And you’re supposed to be following orders to the tee. Remember what the surgeon said? You know that after your physical therapy you have to stay in your wheelchair. Your body is spent! What were you doing upright in the kitchen?”

  “I was hungry.”

  “Then you come get me,” Grace said.
/>   “You were showering. Like a maniac at four in the afternoon.”

  “Then you still come get me,” she said. “Now are we done with this pity party? Because we still need to get you off the floor.”

  I felt her reach for me again but my eyes snapped open. I tried to control the anger rising within my body, but I couldn’t. Grace grabbed tightly into my wrist to try and help me off the floor, but I wasn’t having it. I was moving on my own time, with my own strength, and with my own movements. I fought against her wishes, relegating myself to the damn floor instead of allowing this beautiful woman to help me once again.

  But instead of allowing her to help, I snapped again. I yanked my wrist from her grasp and she came tumbling down to me.

  Her naked body, wrapped in a robe and dripping with water.

  And her knee slammed right into my shoulder.

  The shoulder that had just healed only a few weeks ago.

  “What the fu-? Get the hell out of here!” I exclaimed.

  She scrambled off me as quickly as she could before she turned around and looked down at me.

  Down.

  People were always fucking looking down at me now.

  “Get out,” I said.

  “Hayden, stop fighting me. You can’t stay on the floor forever.”

  “You’re fired,” I said.

  Grace paused and I felt panic rising in my veins. This was the only way. The only way to get her to go on about her life. If I was going to have any chance at a relationship with her once I was fully healed and back to being the man I knew she needed, I had to get rid of her. The more she saw me like this-- the more she helped-- the more of a burden I became. She was stunting her life with this. Attaching herself to a crippled man who relied too heavily on her.

  That wasn’t the kind of man I was.

  And it wasn’t the kind of man Grace deserved.

  “What?” she asked.

  “You heard me. You’re fired.”

  “You can’t fire me. You need help.”

  “What I need is a competent nurse to get me up and around my own fucking house. And you clearly aren’t capable of that.”

  “Aren’t capable of it?” she asked.

  I rolled over and perched on my knees and grimaced. Just putting pressure on my knee made my hip hurt. But I didn’t want to show that to her. It only gave her grounds to interfere again like she’d tried to the first time. Threatening to send me back to the hospital and shit.