“Riley, hold his head and neck steady.” Jerry pushed the rest of them out of the way and tipped Knox on his side just in time. That last bottle of water he’d gulped down came back up fast. And the pain was even worse than he’d feared. Bad enough that blissful blackness swam across his eyes for a second. Until a siren about split his skull open with its noise and flashing lights, making him queasy all over again as the ambulance parked right next to him. Guess that was as close as he’d get to the rockets’ red glare this holiday weekend.
—
“How do you feel?” Griffin asked.
If Knox never heard that question again, it’d be too soon. “Did Jerry tell you to say that? He asked me at least three times on the Mall, a couple more in the ambulance, and four more between my trips to X-ray and the CT scan. Here’s the thing—my answer never changed. Is he really that stupid?”
“More like you really kept passing out that much. Or almost passing out.” Griffin ran his hands up and down the metal rail of the hospital bed. “The guy was just grabbing at straws to keep you talking. Go easy on him.”
“Go easy? I’m thinking of buying him a car. Jerry did awesome under pressure. Kept me from bleeding all over the grass—or worse, getting God knows what germs from the Mall into my scalp lac. Do you think he’d rather have a car or a week’s tutoring with a French chef?”
“I’ll ask. So how do you feel?”
Knox flipped him the bird. Little hard to do with an IV in his hand, but the satisfaction was worth the sting. “Crappy. But conscious, which, while more painful, is apparently an improvement.”
“You seem less…confused.”
“I wasn’t confused before.”
Griffin scratched the top of his head. “That’s what I was afraid you were going to say. This story you told about Logan and Madison being related—it’s true?”
Knox had not meant to let that slip. It wasn’t his secret to share. Not before Logan found out, at least. “Okay, maybe I wasn’t quite as lucid as I pretended to be. I’m not sure what or how much I told you.” Everything from Griffin’s Go get ’em speech until after the scan was fuzzy. Throwing up that fourth time seemed to have cleared out the worst of the cobwebs, though.
“Feel free to start at the beginning. Oh, and I should probably tape this for the other guys.” Griffin pulled out his phone.
“Where are they?”
“In the hall. Docs said you needed peace and quiet, so they’re only letting one of us in at a time.”
No way was he telling the whole thing three times through. Knox barely had the energy to serve up a teaser. But if he had blabbed even part of it, Griff deserved some clarification. “Epic family saga boils down to Logan and Madison both being kept in the dark about each other. Now she wants to, I dunno, go to theme parks with him and open stockings together on Christmas morning and become an insta-family.”
“Do you think Logan will go for that?”
“No clue.”
“Do you want to know what else you told us?” Griff looked almost gleeful as he zipped through the channels with the remote.
Uh-oh. “You tell me.” Knox shut his eyes. Not out of fear, but because the flicker of changing programs was making his stomach twist. Again. Not that there was anything left down there to heave up.
“You probably admitted more to us than you have to yourself.”
“That sounds…unlikely.”
“Likely embarrassing,” Griff chuckled. “You told us about all the outdoor sex you’ve been having with Madison.”
“I told you about the boat?”
Griff threw back his head and let out a gut-splitting roar of a laugh. “No. But you have now. Josh’ll love that.”
“You tricky son of a bitch.”
A knock sounded on the door. “Looks like my turn’s up. Bet you’ll like who subs in for me, though.”
“If whoever it is asks me how I feel, I’ll use this IV stand to harpoon them.”
“You scared us, Knox. Do whatever they tell you, okay?” Griffin squeezed his ankle through the thick blankets and left.
Damn it. Knox eyed the pitcher just out of reach, on the tray table. Should’ve asked Griff for some water before he bailed. He sat up. The world swam. Pain stabbed from the side of his head to his neck and across to the other side of his head. Knox let out a moan.
“What are you doing? You’re too banged up to be vertical.” Madison had apparently slipped into the room while it was moving in circles around him.
Madison. How’d she know where he was?
After a quick glance at the television, she turned it off with a tsking noise. Closed the blinds. The dimness immediately lessened the throbbing behind his eyes. Madison used the remote to raise the head of the bed almost to meet him. Then she supported his back as she slowly eased him onto the pillows. That was…way better. The double, spinning vision cleared to a single, stable view of the woman frowning at him.
“You look horrible.”
She never held back from telling it like it is. Not even the one time he might’ve appreciated a little candy-coating. “Yeah, but don’t you want to know how I feel?”
“It’s pretty obvious from how bad you look, what with the dried blood on your face, the mummy swaddling around your head, and the fact that your skin’s paler than those sheets. Plus, you’re in a hospital for the night. Hairline skull fracture, concussion, bruises, and gashes—why would I bother asking how you feel? I might as well ask a guy going in for stomach stapling if he’s going to miss Big Macs.”
Exactly. Knox let out a sigh of contentment. Madison was on his wavelength. “What are you doing here?”
“Riley called me. He said that you’d asked for me. Over and over again, actually. Which was sweet, but baby, you only had to ask once. I’d have come without the pitiful begging.” A smile softened her words.
He’d…begged? Asked the guys to get her? Embarrassing as fuck. Knox seriously wondered what else he’d said. Evidently concussions were nature’s truth serum. “I’m sure Ry exaggerated. I told him the other day that you bake. The guy was probably angling for extra sympathy so you’d bring cookies and he could grab them.”
She pulled a can and a straw from her huge yellow bag. “What I brought you is ginger ale. Better than water because it’ll settle your stomach.”
The bubbles with bite felt like heaven on his parched tongue. “You’re an angel.”
“More that I’m the daughter of a doctor, and picked up a trick or two over the years. I’ve got more provisions, too.” Madison started emptying things onto his tray table. “Saltines and a banana. They’ll either calm down your stomach or at least give you something to throw up. Way less painful than dry heaves. I checked with the nurse and you’re good to start nibbling, as long as you go slow.”
Knox started to grab for the crackers. Remembered what she’d said all of three stinking seconds before and just turned his hand palm up to wait for her to hand them over. “Please tell me there’s an upgrade from crackers deeper in that bag.”
She whipped out a take-out menu. “If the bland, boring stuff stays down, in a few hours I’ll make a call for Chinese.”
“I’ve always been goal-oriented.”
With a deft push, Madison dropped the rail on his bed. She hiked up her long white skirt so she could perch on the edge of the bed, then folded her body forward to carefully lie on his chest, her ear right over his heart. “I can hear your heart beat. Strong. Even. I’m so darned glad about that.”
The tenderness of the gesture stunned him. “I put my brain through a quick spin cycle, but I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t be dismissive. Your brain is one of the best things about you. Or at least, one of the things I like best.”
First she touched his heart, then she stroked his ego. Combined with the ginger ale, it had Knox feeling more spoiled than on Christmas morning. Better taken care of than the last time…when was the last time anyone had taken care of him?
They had a
ritual in the house. When anyone got sick, it was chicken matzo ball soup from Loeb’s Deli—left outside their bedroom door—on day one, and hot and sour soup from Panda Gourmet—left outside their bedroom door—on day two. Along with a can of Lysol to keep the germs from spreading and a fresh box of Kleenex. By day three you got your lazy ass out of bed if you needed anything. That was how a house full of guys did TLC.
He stroked his hand without an IV in it through her silken waterfall of hair cascading across a tank top the same blue as his hospital gown. The rhythmic motion also slowed the pounding in his head. “I’m really glad you came, Madison. Thank you. You make me feel better.” It was truly that simple.
“Good. Because I’m not leaving your side.” She sat up and scooted the tray table closer. Another root around inside her bag yielded a pair of sleep pants with penguins on them. “I’ll spend the night, and take you home with me tomorrow.”
No. No way would he let her be that selfless. “You can’t take time off so soon after starting your new job.”
“Haven’t you been listening to any of my rants about your company? People matter more than jobs or money.”
“Yes, that sounds annoyingly familiar.” Knox had already asked for an extension of a week to finalize the sale. Would he change his mind about ditching it for gobs of money to move on to something new? Probably not. But would it hurt anything to take the time to think about it? Nah. Then he could fight with Madison with a clear conscience.
“First of all, I hear there’s a big annual blowout on your roof deck tomorrow night. No way are you camping out a floor beneath all that noise with a concussion. Annabeth’s given the okay for you to stay at our place until you’re better.”
“Annabeth’s going to the party. Along with Summer and Chloe.”
“Even better.”
Her bedroom wasn’t very big. “I can’t let you give up your bed for me.”
“I don’t plan on it. I’ll share it with you.”
Whoa. Spend the whole night with a woman? That’d be new. What if it gave her ideas? Permanent-type ideas? On the other hand, Knox felt crappy enough that the thought of falling asleep curled around her softness soothed him more than scared him.
“Secondly, I’m not selfless,” she continued. “Tomorrow’s a holiday, you with the brain at half capacity. I’ll apparently miss the party of the year, but I won’t miss work.”
Relieved, he closed his eyes again. “Missing the party’s worse. Jerry poured a whole bottle of vodka into a watermelon yesterday. That sucker’s going to be tasty by tomorrow.”
“No vodka for you.”
Knox sucked on his straw. “I’m happy with the drink I’ve got now.”
“If it goes well, I’ll pop down and get you a milkshake.”
He laughed. And instantly regretted it from the throb it restarted over his ear. “This isn’t a drive-thru.”
She stage-whispered in his ear. “Let me tell you a secret fact about hospitals—you can always get a milkshake. They use them to get calories into kids, chemo patients, tonsillectomy patients, old people who need nourishment. Stick with me and you’ll get five-star treatment.”
“I think I will.” Once his brain wasn’t swollen and slow, he’d have to think about his statement. If he meant more with it than he realized. If maybe he’d need to change his No Leftovers policy to a No One Else policy. Nah. It had to be the concussion.
After another elbow-deep dig into the bag, Madison flourished her Kindle. “I downloaded the latest issues of IT Professional, Wired, Scientific American, and World Soccer. I’ll read to you when you’re up for it.”
“Seriously?”
“After a successful nap, yes. That’ll be your reward. You did say you’re goal-oriented.”
“That I am.”
Except Knox truly wasn’t sure what his goal was anymore.
Not where Madison was concerned.
Chapter 16
Madison lingered over the somewhat teetering stack of books. Didn’t bother to resist running her hand along the spine of the matte trade paperback. Books made her happy. Filled her soul. They’d helped her escape the endless dark winter days and nights of Alaska to see the world and feel like she’d lived a million different lives. That magic, the idea of helping to give joy and knowledge and freedom to people, was what had inspired her to major in Library Science.
The girls bringing her here to Kramerbooks, which combined a fantastic, all-hours restaurant with a seriously respectable bookstore, was the melding of two of her favorite things. Almost as magical a combination as peanut butter and chocolate.
“You keep feeling up the books like that, they’ll expect you to ask them to move in,” Summer joked.
If Madison had been the blushing type—which she decidedly wasn’t, because life was too short to be embarrassed about anything—her cheeks would’ve flared scarlet. Because having Knox temporarily move in with her had been terrific. Amazing. All it took was a massive concussion, a skull fracture, a sprained ankle, and a pulled intercostal muscle to get him to see the light about commitment. Not that she’d recommend hospital-level injuries to anyone as a way to bag your man.
But who was she to overlook a golden opportunity?
The only bad thing about Knox moving in for the week had been his moving out this morning. Madison knew it’d always been intended as temporary. Knew that the excuse of nursing him and his not being able to easily climb the four flights of stairs to his bedroom suite in the rectory would never last. But she’d darn well savored every minute.
And to the canny observer, so had he. Madison hadn’t been sure she’d even be able to talk him into staying one night, let alone five. But Knox hadn’t put up any fight. He’d stayed happily ensconced in her room for two whole days before moving out to spend his days on the couch. But every night, he’d been there, sharing her bed, leaving most of the covers for her, and starting and ending their days with kisses. It’d been heaven.
So yes, moving in together was definitely on her brain. Knox proved he knew to keep the toilet seat down. Knew intrinsically to spoon her for five minutes upon waking up, even though she had to rush out the door for work. Knox had gotten a gold star in every house-sharing category that existed. The man was more marriage material than ever. Madison still wanted a ring. But she’d happily start by moving in with him.
Madison took two steps back from the display table. “You guys can’t let me buy any books.”
Chloe hooked her hair behind her ear. “Is it against your librarian’s code or something?”
“Hardly. I’m just being very careful with my spending for the first three months of living here. That way I’ll get a good idea of how expensive everything is, and how to budget with my new salary.”
Because temptation was everywhere. All the restaurants. Summer’s boutique. This amazing bookstore. Madison loved living in such a big city, and wanted to gobble up everything it had to offer. Unfortunately, most of that wasn’t free. But she could be patient. Do one fun splurge at a time. She’d be here for a while. And knowing that, knowing she’d found the place to plant herself, made her so darn content.
Summer nudged her in the ribs with her elbow. “Oh, come on. Live a little. Life’s too short to not buy a fabulous pair of three-hundred-dollar shoes. Or in your case, a measly fifteen-dollar book on…what are you petting over there?”
“The Gap of Time—a modern retelling of Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale.” She’d heard about it on NPR last year. Had added it to her towering mental TBR pile, and was tickled to see it here.
Crossing her eyes and holding her nose, Summer said, “Yeah, I’d rather have shoes.”
Obviously. Madison had asked about Summer’s outfit. Aztec tribal sweater hot pants, a white tank, and a gauzy sweater that dripped below her knees, paired with black and tan sandals that had alternating stripes of color across the high wedge. She looked like a model. And Madison bet that each single piece of the outfit cost more than Madison’s denim s
horts, sneakers, and yellow tank together. Which was fine. Summer could prioritize her drool-worthy shoes. Madison would patiently wait for the book to come into the Library and read it then. Growing up in the isolated Alaskan Bush taught patience. Along with how to layer.
Summer’s lack of interest in Shakespeare didn’t matter. Madison could easily find like-minded readers at the Library of Congress. The fact that her new friends had been so thoughtful in their choice of restaurant for her was what mattered. “Thanks for bringing me to brunch. The Crab Cake Benedict instantly became my newest obsession.”
“Lucky for you, they serve it at every brunch place from Virginia to New Jersey.” With a shake of her head that sent her ponytail swishing against her burgundy camisole, Annabeth said in a dry and dismal tone, “You’ll get your fill, I promise.”
Madison looked forward to the day that she’d lived here long enough to be that laissez-faire about the local specialties. As she followed her roommate to the front door, she asked, “Did you know they hold readings here?”
Annabeth lifted one bare shoulder. “Yeah. I guess.”
“How many have you been to?” Because Madison planned to import their entire schedule straight into her calendar. Readings were free, and she intended to go to a ton of them.
“None. Books aren’t my thing either.”
Madison stopped in the middle of the narrow pathway and impulsively threw her arms around Summer and Annabeth in turn. These women were awesome. Her life here was exceeding her wildest dreams. If a hurricane crashed in over the Potomac, it still couldn’t dampen her spirits. “Then you’re both that much sweeter for bringing me here.”
“No skin off my nose. Mimosas included with brunch are my thing. I love coming to Kramerbooks.”
“Me too.” Summer placed the tip of her index finger between her front teeth and gave a lascivious leer around the room. “It’s a great place to pick up a funky hipster in skinny jeans.”
Wanting It All: A Naked Men Novel Page 19
