by Cara North
“That is harsh and unfair, Jan.” True, but he didn’t want to tell her that. He didn’t like the fact she was making more sense by the minute.
“What’s harsh and unfair is how you have done nothing but want for that woman and those kids to be here in this house with you, and now they are, you can’t be grateful for the chance the good Lord has given you. You wanted to run, but you got put right back where you belong and so did she. Don’t keep screwing it up, Rafe.” With that, his little sister got up, took a step toward him, and leaned in to give him a gentle hug. “I love you. You are my favorite, even though you’re acting like an ass lately. I hate to see you hurt, but I think you may have caused this hurt yourself.”
“Well,” he said as she stood up straight again. “I hadn’t really looked at things like that. I mean I always thought I was a pretty perceptive guy. I knew what they needed. I just thought…”
“You had the right intentions, but knowing the kids and knowing Layla, especially when she was trying to keep anyone from knowing the truth about her, it’s not the same. Women have always been easy for you to read. It was an honest mistake. Forgive yourself, I’ll forgive you, and with any luck who knows, maybe you can actually get to know Layla and see if you still want to spend the rest of your life with her.” Jan shrugged. “To be continued, huh?”
“I’ll let you know when I’m ready for those ten questions.” Rafe frowned.
“Number four was if you had ever been on a date, just you and her and not at this ranch.” Jan winked.
He winced. No. They had never been on a proper date, ever.
Chapter 9
Layla avoided Jan by taking the maternity clothes to her room. She stayed in the guest room on the first floor; the children stayed in the rooms Rafe had obviously intended them to have. She made it a point to remind them they were guests. She didn’t want to get their hopes up higher than necessary, and they all had their hopes up pretty high. Apparently, he was still angry at her, but in time she hoped that anger would pass. She was learning a lot about Rafe during this time, things she never thought possible. Like his temper. She had never seen him more than frustrated with her. He had no problem being flat out mad now.
By the time she had everything sorted, Jan and Chance had left, the children had settled in to watch a movie, and Rafe still needed to eat.
She stood at the door looking at him. He seemed lost in thought. “Rafe, can I come in?”
He drew his brows together as he looked at her. “Why are you asking now?”
She shrugged. How about because you were ready to bite my head off earlier?
“You don’t have to ask.” He sighed.
She moved closer to him then looked at the plate; it was empty. He had already eaten. Jan must have helped him, she decided. “I’ll take this out for you. Do you want more water, tea, a soda?”
“What are the kids doing?” he asked as she gathered up his plate and glass.
“Watching a movie.” She straightened. “It’s movie night, remember?”
“Will you come back when you’re done?”
“Okay.” Layla left wondering where all of his temper had went or if he was storing it up for later.
When she returned, he was sitting up on the side of the bed, his feet on the floor. His ankle was still swollen, but it wasn’t huge like before. Now it was the size of a baseball. “Rafe, you’re going to make it swell again.”
“Just help me up.” He held out his left arm to her. “Actually, grab me a pair of sweats out of that third drawer first and a shirt. It’s cold in here.”
“Summer is officially over.” She grabbed the items out of his chest of drawers and without thinking began dressing him as if he were a supersize version of Brice. “Hold your arms up, good. And over,”
His laugh stopped her.
“I’m sorry. I…”
“It’s okay.” He pulled his shirt down the rest of the way himself.
She slid the sweat pants over his feet and then stopped at his ankle. “This isn’t going to work. The band is going to be too tight.”
“Just lift it up the leg. It will be fine.” He grumbled as he struggled to navigate his left arm into helping get his pants up. She knew it was hurting his ribs by his voice, but she also knew if he wanted to be dressed, he would get dressed, and it was better if she helped him rather than letting him hurt himself.
“I’ll cut the bottom. I can fix it back later, but if you hike it up, it will just cut off circulation farther up your leg and cause more swelling.” Layla didn’t let him argue. She stood up and walked over to the dresser where all of his supplies had been staged. By the time she returned to him with scissors in hand, he had pulled one pant leg up higher but still struggled. She helped him get them up and over his large thighs, and then it was time for him to stand.
“Okay, when you stand up with the guys to change bottoms, how does it work? I’ve got the walking thing down, but do you need me to pull them up, or do you need me to help you balance while you pull them up?” She looked up at him. For a brief moment, he had trapped her with his eyes. The expression there was gentle and caring, like the old Rafe.
“They normally balance me, but if you would pull, it would go faster, plus I don’t like putting my weight on you. And I definitely wouldn’t live to hear the end of it if they had to pull my drawers up for me.” Rafe extended his left arm, and she braced herself to help him stand. Once he was standing, she made quick work of pulling up the pants. “Now let’s go.”
“Did you put all this on to walk to the bathroom?” He had been in pajama bottoms or boxers for the past week. He wasn’t supposed to start walking on his foot until next week and then only when necessary because he couldn’t use crutches yet due to the ribs. “I thought you got dressed because you were cold.”
“I’m going to the living room.” He started to walk, but she pushed him, causing him to sit back down on the bed. “Ouch. What?”
“No.”
“If I want to go into the living room to watch a movie in my own house, I should be able to do so.” He didn’t say it with the same bite as he used earlier that day.
“I know that. I just don’t want to hurt you. I can’t hold you up that long. I don’t want them to forget you’re hurt. They may run into your foot, or…”
“Layla,” He reached out to grab her hand with his right hand then switched to his left. The touch of his skin against hers purposefully, not in a necessary manner, lit memories and longing on fire within her. Heat crept up her cheeks, and she tried not to look at him. “Grab one of the crutches for me, okay?”
“I’ll call Jack,” she warned.
“Jack is my little brother. He doesn’t scare me.”
“Heath then.”
“Heath called me a pussy yesterday because he had to help pull me up.” Rafe snorted.
“I’ll call…”
“Jan, no you won’t and we both know that, so get me the crutch before we miss the movie, honey.” He let his thumb slide along the outside of her hand when he said the word honey. Little sparks of electricity bolted through her in different directions. There was no arguing then; she couldn’t say anything to argue.
Layla grabbed the crutch from the corner and brought it over to him. He gripped it, pulled up on his own steam, and stood. It hurt just watching him.
“Now the hard part,” he said and switched the crutch to his right side, the side with the busted ribs, the side with the bad ankle.
“I don’t like this one bit. Can’t we get a wheelchair or something?” As she said it, he seemed more determined than ever to get to the living room on the crutch. He started moving, one painful step at a time. She held her breath between each step, thought of a hundred ways to explain things if he fell, thought of at least ten ways to strap him to his bed where he couldn’t move if he wanted to try this again.
“Rafe!” Savannah shouted, and Brice stood up along with her to look at him. Then they remained there like statues.
<
br /> “Recliner,” he said with a strained voice.
Layla turned the recliner toward him and then stood at the back to ensure it did not immediately recline on him. She learned all too well the first time she sat in it that it was sensitive; she thought she was going to flip out of the thing.
Once in the chair, he smiled, a painful smile of triumph. “Can you turn it back toward the television?”
“Yes.” She tugged with all of her might. The chair was so much heavier with Rafe in it. Once he faced the television, she made sure the reclining was smooth and easy. His ankle appeared bigger, the stitches in his eye had a spot of blood from his expressions no doubt, and if she could see that, his ribs must have been throbbing, along with the arm in the cast he tried not to use every time his weight had to shift to his right side.
“I know you don’t want o hear it but…” he started.
“I’ll get them, and be right back.” She knew he had overdone it, and he knew it, too. So did the two sad faces staring at him. Savannah was already tearing up. “It’s okay, guys. Savannah, come help me for a minute. Brice, why don’t you pick another movie, so we can all start at the beginning? You and Savannah can finish this one later if you like.”
“We’ve seen it a hundred times.” He shook his head. She knew Savannah had chosen the movie; she chose the same thing every time.
Savannah followed her to the kitchen. When they were clear of the doorway, she turned and picked her up. Savannah wrapped her arms around her and cried. “Is he going to die?”
“No, sweetheart, Rafe isn’t going to die. He’s just stubborn. He wants to be with you and Brice, so he got out of bed sooner than he should have, that’s all.” Layla stroked Savannah’s long curly hair and then wiped her tears when she leaned back.
“He looked like he was hurting.” She sniffed.
“He is. So be extra gentle if you hug him, okay?” Layla smiled as Savannah nodded. “Be brave, all right. You know it would make him sad if he thought you were afraid of him.”
“I’m not afraid of him.” She wiped her own tears this time.
“That’s my girl.” Layla sat her down after another big hug. If losing her job meant gaining these children, it was beyond worth it. “I made cookies earlier. Will you put them on plates?”
Savannah nodded. Layla set the cookie jar on the kitchen table and headed back to Rafe’s bedroom to get him some pain medicine.
* * *
The cookies had been eaten, the movie had rolled credits, and she had carried two children up a flight of stairs to their beds. Unfortunately, though she could tell she was physically stronger now, she couldn’t do the same for Rafe. He was asleep in the recliner. The medicine always knocked him out, which was why he refused to take it unless he was really hurting.
One phone call later Heath and Jack were there.
“How did he get in there in the first place?” Heath asked in as much of a whisper as the man could manage.
“You don’t want to know. We were lucky he didn’t fall since he can’t very well use his arm to support much weight either. I tried to tell him not to. He is so…”
“Stubborn?” Jack, the youngest brother, said then smiled. They had very similar features, all three brothers; thankfully, Jan got more of her mother’s traits though when she was angry she definitely had Heath’s expressions. “It’s a family thing. Johnsons are known for being stubborn.”
“Well, let’s get him back in bed. He has one week left; then he can try this shit. Until then, we are taking the crutches, and if he so much as tries to go farther than the bathroom, you call.” Heath propped his hands on his hips and looked down at her. The man meant business.
“Okay. I wanted to call in the first place.” Layla shrugged.
“Should we try to wake him up first?” Jack asked Heath.
Layla responded before Heath could. “He’s out. The pain meds knock him out solid. You could throw him downstairs, and I doubt he would wake up.”
“You been wanting to throw him down some stairs?” Heath quirked a brow. “No.” She blushed and looked away.
“It’s okay, Layla,” Jack said and put a hand on her shoulder. “We know you’re taking the brunt of his moods. I imagine any one of us would be in similar temper if we had to have someone care for us around the clock. I like being babied by Bethany, but I would be humiliated if she had to do everything for me you are having to do for Rafe right now.”
With that, the brothers left her to get Rafe. She made sure the bed was ready for him. He was like a huge rag doll, one they undressed and positioned back in the place he was supposed to have been to begin with.
She noticed Heath inspecting Rafe the same way a parent would look over a child. Her heart thumped heavily as she realized how much his family truly loved him. They were every bit as worried, and though they may talk big when he was a wake, they were sure showing concern now. He looked at Rafe’s ankle again. She assured him, “I’ll put some ice on his ankle.”
“Oh, of course.” As if he were caught being too attentive, he snapped right back into a more macho demeanor. He headed out tossing his words over his shoulder, “Night Layla.”
Jack started talking before she could respond. “If you need a break or anything…”
“I don’t,” she insisted.
“Yeah, I didn’t think you would.” Jack nodded as if he understood something she didn’t. He also read her expression like an open book. “Don’t give up. He’ll come back around to where he belongs.”
“And where is that?” Layla asked and frowned at him. Jack thought that was funny.
“Here, with you, them—” He pointed up in the direction of the children’s rooms. “—and us. You gotta understand, Layla, Rafe has never had to chase a woman. He has never had to work to get to know her. He’s a cocky S-O-B, and you have proven over and over again he doesn’t know more than the rest of us. In fact, when it comes to you, I bet he knows less than the rest of us. He was too blind by what he wanted, too sure that any day you were going to wake up and swoon over him like every other woman in his life had, and you...you were just as stubborn as he was about it all.”
“You’re right.” She nodded.
“You wanna call my wife and tell her that?” He smiled as she shook her head no. “Traitor.”
“Night Jack,” Layla said as he walked away. Bethany was a very lucky lady to have Jack.
“Night.”
* * *
The next few days were hell. It was difficult to deny him anything he wanted, including getting out of his bedroom, and she was tired of trying. The only thing he liked about being in his bedroom was getting his daily sponge bath. Much like Pavlov’s dog, he was conditioned. He got hard at the sight of the basin, expecting his daily relief.
“What did you do before you were injured? Did you have to… you know… every day?” She was curious.
“Not every day,” he teased. “Can I have my crutch back today?”
“Ugh! No!” She was so tired of this. “I swear if you ask me for that crutch one more time before Friday, I am going to tie your ass to that bed and make sure you can’t get out of it at all!”
She bit her lips. She didn’t mean to shout at him, but he was making her crazy. Crazy every day with longing to be more than just a brief relief. Crazy with guilt for being the reason he couldn’t do anything anyways. Had she not gone to the Rodeo he may have won. He may not have, but certainly if he wasn’t going to point and yell at her, he wouldn’t have been let out of the gate before he was ready.
“Why are yelling?” He laughed a little.
“I don’t know.” She continued to shout. “You have no idea how hard it is to say no to you. I’ve been saying no to you for so long, Rafe, I wish I could say yes. I wish you could just get up and walk into your living room, or out the door to see how amazing it looks outside today, but you can’t and it’s my fault.”
Rafe looked at her for a long moment. “Come here.” He waited. “You just
said you didn’t want to say no, so come here.”
Layla walked closer to him, and he could see why she was trying to keep her distance; she was crying. He patted the bed on his left side. She walked around and stood there facing him. This was the woman he had been lusting after forever, the woman who came everyday and gave him incredible pleasure because she thought he needed it. He bit his lower lip. He knew he was being a bit of a scoundrel with that one, but how could he resist? Like she said, it was the one thing he had asked her to do for him not medically related she didn’t say no to. “Sit.”
She sat on the edge of the bed. “I need to do laundry.”
“Layla, come closer to me.” She moved closer but didn’t face him. “Kick your shoes off and get up here for crying out loud. Don’t make me drag you.”
“Rafe, what can I do for you in this bed?” She snapped, and then her eyes softened with a memory of what they had done in this bed once before he was sure of it. Then she was all business again. “I can talk to Heath and see if he will give me your crutches back.”
She was sitting next to him, not looking at him, her mind obviously turning with her to do list for the day. She looked healthier than he had ever seen her, but her eyes looked tired. She needed a nap, for that matter so did he. If he could wrangle her under his arm, he could keep her there until she fell asleep. Slowly he slid his arm closer; then like a snake striking, he wrapped her up and pulled her close to him.
“Rafe!” she scolded, but he could tell she was afraid to resist him. She was afraid to hurt him.
“Shhh. You look like hell, Layla. Just settle down a few minutes and lay with me.” He hugged her even closer. He could smell her hair as she let her head drop to his left shoulder. The soft tendrils touched his skin, and he took a deep fortifying breath. He couldn’t see her face from this angle, but he could feel her hand gently rest on his chest. They were at an angle thanks to the million pillows she stuffed behind him daily to prop him up.
