Hot Sauce [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations

by Tymber Dalton

  Reed patted her on the back, getting her to sit up so he could reach the TV remote and hit mute.

  “It’s me, buddy. I’m okay. It was a bad scare, but I’m okay.”

  He grabbed her by the chin and made her look at him. “It was a severe gallbladder attack,” he said to Lyle on the phone, but he was staring into her eyes. “Apparently, I have gall stones. They said I need to have my gallbladder out, but I can go home in the morning as long as I’m stable and see my own doctor.”

  She nodded, a fresh round of tears starting, this time of relief.

  He cuddled her close again and placed a kiss on the top of her head. Now she couldn’t hear Lyle screaming, so he must have calmed down.

  “No, I’m okay. Not something I wanted to check off my bucket list, for sure. Hey, I can attest it was like what you see on Deadliest Catch. Man, those Coasties, they don’t lose their shit for anything. World could be coming to an end and they sound like it’s allll coool, man. It’s alll coool.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  With Lyle settled and no longer panicking, Vanessa realized, with some horror and only after Reed had mentioned it to her, that poor Carlo probably had his legs crossed, if he hadn’t had an accident already.

  And if he’d had one, she wouldn’t blame the poor guy.

  “Crap, I need to call Jenny.” At Reed’s suggestion, she’d given her friend a spare key and the alarm code for the house in case of an emergency.

  She called Jenny. “I need a huge favor.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Can you please go walk Carlo? As in right now? And if he’s had an accident can you please clean it up and not scold him for it?”

  “What happened?” Vanessa gave Jenny the brief version. “He was airlifted to Bayfront? Why the fuck didn’t you call me?”

  “Did I mention the part where I was on a boat and didn’t have cell reception, then was worried he was dying and I was driving up to St. Pete to find him?”

  She heard Jenny take a deep breath. “He’s okay, though?”

  Vanessa stared at Reed. She was sitting up in the hospital bed, snuggled next to him. Lyle would be heading over as soon as his last seminar ended at six, only waiting that long because Reed practically ordered him to finish the day there, and then join them at the hospital.

  “Yeah, he’ll be okay. He needs to have his gallbladder out, though.” They’d given him some pain meds that had made him a little woozy, but he wasn’t totally out of it.

  “Wow. At least it wasn’t more serious.”

  “I know. Believe me.”

  “Yes, I’ll go walk the little dude. Want me to bring him home with me?”

  She started to say no, then rethought that. “Yeah, I’ll pick him up from you when I get back there. It’ll be later.”

  Reed touched her arm. “You and Lyle will need to go back to the boat and take care of that, first.”

  Despite everything, he still wanted his boat parked correctly in his slip, and hosed off.

  Plus she’d grabbed the boat keys, but had forgotten to make sure the bilge pump switch was on, and didn’t know if the charter customers had tied the mooring lines right or not.

  She snapped him a salute from her temple with her free hand. “It’ll be late tonight,” Vanessa warned her.

  “That’s okay, just keep me informed.”

  “Thanks. I love you, and I really appreciate this.”

  “No problem. Love you, too, and hug Reed for me. See you later.”

  She hung up and tipped her head over onto his shoulder.

  “Sorry I scared you today, baby,” he said.

  Again.

  It had to be the twentieth or thirtieth time he’d apologized.

  That was, in between him calling around and finding another guide who would take his charter passengers out tomorrow on their boat, and then letting the passengers know and hooking them up with the guy. He’d also called his passengers from that morning, confirmed they’d gotten home safely, and assured them he was okay. When he offered to give them a partial refund for the day, they’d declined, saying the excitement had been worth it, especially knowing that he was going to be okay.

  She plucked at the front of his hospital gown. “I’m taking off Monday to drive you to the doctor.”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “Did I ask you?”

  He arched an eyebrow at her.

  “Sir,” she added, her voice shrinking, tiny.

  He chuckled. “Boy, you weren’t kidding when you said you weren’t sure if you could be a submissive, were you?”

  She rested her palm against his chest, feeling his heart beating, strong, steady. “No, Sir. Remember, that’s why you guys agreed on Sirs and baby girl.”

  “Yes, I know.” He let out a sigh. “I managed to fuck this weekend up all to hell in more ways than one. I wonder how much this will cost me in copays.”

  Her phone rang.

  Tilly.

  “Uh oh.” She shoved it at him. “Nope-ity nope nope from Nopesville, Nopestan, zip code nope-nope-nope-nope-nope. You can’t make me answer it.”

  He smiled, taking the phone from her. “We warned you about her, but noooo. You thought she was all sweetness and kittens and rainbows and shit.” He hit the speaker button. “Yeeesss?”

  Tilly paused. “Reed?”

  “That’s me.”

  “So…are you guys by any chance making dinner tonight?”

  “Um, probably not. Something came up, unfortunately.”

  Tilly cleared her throat. “Did I just hear correctly something about you getting your ass plucked off a goddamned boat by the fuckin’ Coasties this afternoon?”

  “Um, you heard right.”

  “And where, pray tell, are you right now?”

  “Snuggled in a hospital bed built for one with my sweetie girl at Bayfront.”

  Tilly swore. “Why the fuck didn’t someone call me?”

  Even a little woozy, he still sounded Sir-ish. “For the same reason she didn’t call Jenny when it happened, because she didn’t have cell service and she was more worried about getting up here to me than calling anyone. She didn’t talk to Lyle until she got here. Poor guy heard ‘hospital’ and ‘Coast Guard airlifted’ and she was in an elevator and the call cut out on him. He nearly had a heart attack before he got her on the phone again.”

  Tilly snorted. “Cool. Okay. So what’s the 411, son?” He filled her in, prompting another snort. “Duuude. You got airlifted for a bum gallbladder. Nice.”

  “It’s not funny. I feel horrible about scaring everyone, and that the Coast Guard flew out to get me.”

  “Just be grateful it’s our tax dollars paying that tab, buster. That’s something like $1,500 an hour or some shit like that to run a chopper.”

  “The nurse did say,” Vanessa spoke up, “that a lot of people rightfully mistake a gallbladder attack for a heart attack. And that it’s better to mistake a gallbladder attack for a heart attack than the other way around.”

  “Eh, true,” Tilly agreed. “She—or he—is right on that account. And in all seriousness, I’m glad it’s not more serious. Sucks you need surgery, but still. And good on ya, Nessie, for remembering the aspirin. People forget that shit. That can really help sometimes.”

  “I know,” Reed said. “She did good.” He gently chucked her chin. “I’m really proud of her.”

  Pleasant heat filled her.

  “So,” Tilly said. “Give me some marching orders, dude. What do you need done?”

  “Well, unless you have a captain’s license, which I know you don’t, not much. Lyle will be over here later tonight when he finishes in Orlando.”

  “Wait, Nessie, are you good to drive?” Tilly asked. “You’ve got to be crashing after all of that.”

  Actually, truth be told, she wasn’t sure. She looked at Reed, then shrugged. She’d let him make that call, either way. Her decision-making tank was now running on fumes.

  “I don’t think s
he is, Til,” he said, still studying her. “If you wanted to have two people come up and meet Lyle here around nine, and one of them drive his car back for us, he can drive her and my truck home. That would be a help.” He leaned in and kissed Vanessa. “Or come up here early and bring me a pizza and visit for a while, if you want.”

  “No pizza!” Vanessa loudly ordered. He’d been put on a bland diet.

  He laughed. “Okay, bring dinner for my girl, please, and the pleasure of your delightful company.”

  “Thank you,” she silently mouthed.

  He smiled, nodding.

  “Done and done. Abbey and Gilo stayed in tonight. I’m sure he’ll come up with me. If not him, someone will. I’ll be there in short order, with the short order.”

  The call ended.

  He snuggled her close. “See? I do listen to you.”

  “I know you do.” She closed her eyes, finally able to relax. If Tilly wasn’t freaking out, she wouldn’t freak out anymore, either.

  * * * *

  “Oh. My. God,” Gilo said as he walked into the hospital room ninety minutes later with a sandwich shop bag in his hand. “Dude. You got suspended by a helicopter. Props.”

  Tilly laughed as she walked in behind him. “Don’t laugh and encourage the SAM. He’s been working on that joke since Sarasota.” She swooped in and hugged Vanessa first, then tousled Reed’s hair. “Attention whore.” But she gave him a smile Vanessa knew held more relief than it did chastisement.

  And when Reed’s nurse came in to take his vitals a few minutes later, Tilly started chatting with her, friendly as can be and getting the details about Reed’s condition from her, including speaking medicalese that had Vanessa totally lost and confused. After Reed signed off on the nurse talking to Tilly, they were soon bent over the computer terminal she had on a rolling cart, Tilly scrolling through lab work and radiology reports and pictures.

  When Tilly finished kibitzing with the nurse and the woman finished with Reed and left them alone again, Tilly sat down, dropping all pretenses.

  “You’re lucky, dude. It sounds like your gallbladder’s fried. Don’t be surprised if your GP looks at those results and sends you straight to a surgeon for an immediate referral.”

  Vanessa sat up and got a hug from Gilo, and her sandwich. “But they’re letting him go tomorrow. Isn’t that good?”

  Tilly nodded. “He’s not critical. But from the looks of your blood work, and looking at those films? Unless your GP is Mr. Magoo, you’ll be having surgery this week, if not bright and early Tuesday morning.

  “Dammit,” Reed said. “I have charters booked this week.”

  “Lucky you, I called Keith,” Tilly said. “He’s got a friend who runs charters, and who owes him a couple of favors. He’s ready to cover for you.”

  “He doesn’t even know what I charge. How can he offer to cover my charters?”

  “Gratis. Well, just the price of gas. Keith rushed an outboard engine overhaul for him last tarpon season right before a tournament. Saved the guy from losing several grand in charter fees and purse money. Keith’s been waiting for the right time to call it in, and said this is a worthy cause.”

  Reed looked stunned. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me, thank Keith. I’m just the facilitator.”

  Gilo grinned. “Is that the polite term for ballbuster now?”

  “Fuck you,” she lightly said, smiling at him. “You’re lucky you have a cute ass and Abbey loves you so much.”

  He stuck his tongue out at her. “You know you love me.”

  “Yeah, I do. Damn SAM.”

  “Plus, I know you don’t have any duct tape on you.” Gilo grinned.

  She flipped him off, then they both laughed.

  * * * *

  Lyle had panicked when Vanessa’s call broke up and he couldn’t get her on the phone again right away.

  Yes, he’d wanted to cut his day short, but Reed insisted he was fine and not to do that. Lyle knew arguing with his partner under the circumstances would only exacerbate Reed’s condition and make Reed feel guiltier than he obviously already did.

  So the minute his last meeting of the day finished, Lyle practically ran for his car to head west on I-4.

  It was well after midnight by the time he and Vanessa climbed into her bed, Carlo taking the spot on the other side of her where Reed would normally sleep. She lay with her face buried against Lyle’s chest when her tears hit.

  This was something he’d been expecting ever since he’d arrived at the hospital and handed keys over to Gilo and Tilly. Nessie had actually held it together a lot longer than he’d expected her to.

  He pulled her even closer, nuzzling his chin against the top of her head. “He’s going to be okay. You did good, baby girl. You took care of what had to be done, you got him help, and you got those people and yourself in safely. I’m proud of you.”

  “I was so scared,” she sobbed. “I couldn’t stop thinking about how it would be my fault if he died because I knew he was hurting earlier and didn’t force him to go to the hospital.”

  He made her look up, into his eyes. “One more time,” he firmly said. “It’s not your fault. He thought it was indigestion. If everyone who had indigestion hit the ER, people who are really sick would die from the wait. He didn’t die, he’s not going to die, he’s going to be fine. And Tony didn’t die because you were a horrible sister or didn’t care about him. He died because he waited too long to get treatment, and his body shut down. Nothing you did or didn’t do would have changed that. If you’d tried to get him to the doctor earlier, he likely wouldn’t have gone. So stop.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  “I know you can’t. That’s why I’m telling you to stop. Consider it an order if you need to. You are not a failure as a sister or a lover or a person. Most people today would have fallen apart. You did great. It’s okay to mourn Tony, because you need to. But quit thinking you own blame for his death, because you don’t.”

  “While we were waiting for the chopper, I kept thinking about being in the ICU with Tony. I remembered the last time he told me he loved me, and I said it back before he lost consciousness the final time.”

  “If the last words you said to each other were, ‘I love you,’ then cherish that. Many people don’t get that. They don’t get a final good-bye. He died knowing how much you loved him.”

  He knew she’d have to get it out of her system, and that’s exactly what she did, finally crying herself to sleep in his arms.

  His heart ached, breaking for her. He didn’t know if she’d ever get past that emotional hump and it wasn’t like they could walk that journey for her.

  Today’s events had only driven it more deeply into her brain that she felt she needed to take care of everyone…everyone except herself.

  Once Reed was home and they could talk alone, he’d have to discuss this with him. They might have to order her to a counselor. It wasn’t what he wanted to do, but depending on how she handled this over the next few days, it might be the only option.

  The past two months spent with her had cemented in his mind how much he was in love with her, how much he wanted her to be a permanent part of their lives, not just as a friend and play partner and lover, but as a family. He knew Reed loved her, too, and while they’d discussed asking her to make it “official” with them, they hadn’t actually decided it.

  Today decided it for him.

  It wasn’t simply reactionary on his part, either. It was fate smacking him around, getting his attention, and reminding him of the lesson Tony’s death had started teaching them—life was short. Too short to waste it on not being happy.

  She made them happy.

  As far as he knew, they made her happy.

  It was time to stop wasting time.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Tilly had called that one right. By late Tuesday evening, Reed was out of recovery and in a hospital room. Frequently it was an outpatient surgery,
but since it’d been late in the day when the surgeon could wedge Reed into his schedule as an add-on, he preferred Reed spend the night for observation.

  Relieved, Vanessa cuddled with Lyle in her bed. She’d taken the day off, and tomorrow. Reed’s charters were covered until next week, and Tilly would stay with Reed on Thursday and Friday while Vanessa and Lyle were at work.

  And as Reed recovered pretty much exactly as his doctor predicted he would, Vanessa forced herself to relax and not think about the what-ifs that hadn’t happened.

  She also tried to stop thinking the woulda-coulda-shoulda thoughts that had plagued her since Tony’s death.

  Stu called her on Wednesday morning. She was working from home on her laptop.

  “I don’t see any leave for you scheduled on the calendar.”

  Actually, that had totally slipped her mind. Between being busy at work, and being busy on the weekends with her men, scheduling time off for herself had been the last thing on her mind.

  Especially after Saturday’s events.

  “Sorry. I’ll have it on my schedule by next week.”

  “What day?”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  “Fine. By next Wednesday.”

  “Good. Expect another call from me if you haven’t put it on there.”

  When she got off the phone with him, she pulled up her calendar on the corporate server.

  Finally, after thinking about it, she blocked two weeks out at Thanksgiving.

  Whether or not she’d actually take that time, or change the dates later, remained to be seen. But it would, hopefully, shut Stu up.

  Her phone rang.

  Stu.

  “Yeeesss?” she answered.

  “Okay, smart-ass. You’d better really take that time off.”

  Her face heated. “I will.”

  “I’ll hold you to it.”

  “What’d you do, put an alert notice on my calendar?”

  “Yep. I flagged it to watch for changes. Good-bye.”