Avery’s eyebrows drew together and I could see doubt in his eyes, but he agreed, albeit reluctantly. “Well, if y’all are sure. But you have our numbers. You call if you need anything.”
“That’s right,” Acacia concurred. “And we’ll be in touch in a couple of days to check on the patient. Count on that.”
“That’s fine,” Hunter said flatly, his face still expressionless.
Jiminy Cricket! I knew, from having the benefit of a long history between us, that his manner was about fear and protectiveness. But to people that didn’t know him as well, I could see how it could just come off as dickishness. I jumped in, trying to be the buffer. “Thank you both so much. Honestly. You’ve done more than enough. We’re so appreciative!”
“Well, we’re gonna do one more thing, and no arguing,” Acacia insisted. “I called Archer to come pick us up. There’s no way you’re walking back in your condition. Now let’s go, honey. He’s waiting out front.”
Hunter nodded, but looked back to the doctor before making a move to help me down from the table. “There’s really nothing else I need to know?”
He shook his head. “No, son. Nothing. You can call me anytime if you have a question. But your young lady should be fine.”
He nodded sharply and then slid his arm firmly around my waist, lifting me down from the table as I wrapped my arm around his shoulders to steady myself. He kept his arm around me as we walked up the dock to the waiting car. I didn’t really need him to. I felt fine.
Well, from the knock on the head, anyway. I confess that hearing the doctor refer to me as Hunter’s “young lady” (and liking it) had left me a little dizzy and weak in the knees. I thought, though, that I could very easily get used to it.
Chapter 27
Hunter
“Come on. Let’s get you into bed.” I knew I sounded too commanding as those words came out of my mouth the instant we walked back into the hotel room, but I didn’t really give a shit. Honestly, I didn’t really give a shit about anything in that moment, aside from making sure that Sandy got better—and I was going to do my damndest to accomplish that. I didn’t care how much of an asshole it made me sound like.
“Well, gee, sailor. Not sure I’m really up to it, but if you’re that horny, I guess I could give it a go,” she responded.
Fuck. Typical smartass Sandy. Usually I loved it, but right now I wasn’t having it. “Seriously, Sandy. You need to rest. Doctor’s orders.”
“Seriously, Hunter,” she replied in a mock-grave tone, “I am not going anywhere until I get a shower. I am freezing cold, and I smell like seaweed. It’s not a good look.”
“The doctor said you needed sleep,” I insisted.
“The doctor said I was probably fine,” she shot back.
“I think ‘probably’ is the operative word there. I’m in charge of taking care of you, and I’m not sending you in there to take a shower by yourself. It’s not fucking happening, so get over that idea right now.”
She ran her hand up my chest seductively, smirking to show she was kidding. “Well, if it’s the ‘by yourself’ part you have an issue with…”
She trailed off, letting the erotic suggestion hang in the air.
I stayed strong. Of course she turned me on. It was Sandy, for fuck’s sake. But her well-being trumped my hormones. “Here’s the deal. You can take a bath. And I’ll help you.”
“I like the sound of that,” she replied, her honeyed voice dripping with light and playful sensuality.
It’d never been harder to remain a gentleman in my entire life. However, the image of her flipping over the side of that boat, and the sound that it made when her head hit the side—those things would be in my head forever. The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I dove down, and down again, unable to find her no matter how hard I tried. I really thought I’d lost her. I’d never been so terrified in my entire life.
I had one job to do now, and one job only—to keep Sandy safe and alive. Of course, I kind of considered that my job on a daily basis, if not my sole reason for being—but this was different. This was a full-time, round-the-clock endeavor that was going to be my one and only focus for the next 48 hours. I certainly wasn’t going to be distracted by something like Sandy’s body, or her flirty overtones. They were hot, yes. They were tempting, of course. But they weren’t worth getting distracted and losing her over.
“Come on, then,” I said, trying to make it clear from the concrete inflection in my voice that I wasn’t responding to her sexy invitation.
She grinned at me and started peeling off her clothes. Her eyes twinkled. Keeping my resolve strong was a struggle. Sandy was extra cute when she was trying to get her way, and I was a sucker for original recipe Sandy, let alone the extra cute version.
“Sandy,” her name came out as a warning, my voice rasping with raw and powerful emotion. “This is serious. I almost lost you today. This isn’t a joke to me. I’m not fooling around.”
That finally seemed to get through to her. She stepped closer to me, leaning her head on my shoulder. “Okay,” she agreed softly. “I’m sorry. I guess I can try to be a good patient. I really do appreciate how you always take care of me, Hunter.”
“Thanks,” I said stiffly. I appreciated her saying that, but it did seem a little too good to be true. Sandy was a lot of awesome things but a “person who immediately recognizes that they are in the wrong and need to change their behavior” wasn’t one of them.
“I just need you to do one thing for me,” she said, and I could hear the undertone of mischievous intent below her words. Great. Here it comes.
“What’s that?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.
She stepped back and looked up at me, grinned brilliantly—as if the sun itself were shining out through her radiant face—and finished undressing while she looked into my eyes. Then, slinking into the bathroom and looking at me over her shoulder as she moved, she said softly, “Wash my back.”
Shit. This whole gentleman thing was going to be hard. No pun intended. And I could see she didn’t plan to make it any easier.
Chapter 28
Sandy
I snuggled back against the pillows and let the flickering blue glow of the television lull me into a relaxed state. It was the same channel that Hunter and I always gravitated to when I was sick. Nick at Nite. There was just something about watching all of those great 80s and 90s sitcoms that was so comforting, somehow. Regardless of how shitty I started out feeling, they always had the power to make me feel just a little bit better.
I felt a little wistful watching the adventures of the Tanner clan play out on the small screen. I gestured at the TV. “I used to be so jealous of DJ when I was a kid.”
“Really?”
“Oh, hell, yeah. That bitch had everything. A great house, amazing hair, a killer wardrobe, a lovable dog…”
“And, for all intents and purposes, three awesome dads.”
I was quiet for a minute. I hated when Hunter went all Sigmund Freud on me. I especially hated when he was right. “Yeah,” I admitted softly.
“And no unpredictable, chaotic mom coming in to wreck things.”
“True.”
“But, Sandy, there’s one major downside to being DJ Tanner.”
“I think you’re nuts, but let’s hear it. What downside?”
“You’d be related to Uncle Jesse, which would make the huge crush you had on him more than a little inappropriate.”
I laughed. Even in the super-serious protective mode that Hunter had been in since my accident, he always knew how to make me laugh.
“That aside, I still say being DJ would’ve been a pretty sweet deal.”
I was quiet for another long moment, working up to what I wanted to say. Another nice thing about the Hunter-and-Gatherer dynamic—silences were rarely ever awkward. Hunter made it easy to have the space to breathe, to think. He made it easy to be myself. Being vulnerable was the most difficult thing in the world for me to
do, but Hunter made that terrifying prospect feel as safe as it ever could.
Finally, I screwed my courage up to the sticking-place and said flatly, “So, be honest. How bad do you think my childhood actually damaged me? Emotionally, I mean. Scale of one to ten, ten being a total lost cause?”
I studiously avoided his gaze. I was scared to death of his answer. Not that I thought he would out-and-out agree that, yes, he thought I was pretty well fucked up—he would never say that. But I was in such a raw place that I knew any flicker of hesitation I saw in his eyes would fucking devastate me in that moment, and I couldn’t look. I just couldn’t.
I waited with bated breath to hear what he had to say, but the next thing I got from him wasn’t the sound of his voice. It was the feel of his touch as he covered my hand with his. I closed my eyes, overwhelmed with the emotions tumbling over each other inside me. Opening myself up like this, emotionally stripped bare and raw, wasn’t my usual MO, and it was a little tough to navigate.
Hunter was patient, though. He squeezed my hand and let the silence stretch, leaving the ball in my court. Finally, gently, he said, “Sandy, look at me.”
I continued to look straight ahead as if I hadn’t heard him.
“Look at me, Sandcastle.” His voice was still soft, but it now contained the same gentle insistence with which he held my hand. I took a deep breath and turned my head towards him.
When my gaze met his, warmth filled my heart. What I saw when I looked into those familiar warm brown eyes was steadiness and rock-solid passion. Love. There was none of the flickering hesitation that I was afraid of seeing. There was nothing but the firmest conviction.
“You are not fucked up,” he said. His voice was tight with emphasis. “You’re dealing with shit that was put on you by other people. Your mom being such a train wreck when you should’ve been able to count on her. Your dad killing himself before he even got a chance to meet you. Those are fucked up things to do to you. Naturally, there’s some fallout. But you? Yourself? Sandy, the person? No. You are the furthest thing from fucked up there is.”
I closed my eyes and drew in another deep breath. I wanted to fill my lungs with his certainty, let it permeate my being, saturate every cell in my body with confidence and self-love by osmosis. It wasn’t that simple. But when Hunter talked, anything seemed possible.
“Why do you think my dad would do that?” The anguish came through loud and clear in my voice. “Why would he leave Brandy and me with her? How could he be that selfish?”
Hunter shook his head, whether he was at a loss for what to say or just considering the question thoughtfully, I couldn’t tell. Until he spoke. “Maybe it was the best he could do.”
“Seriously? Come on! Get real!”
“No, no. I understand how ridiculous that sounds. But think about it. This was someone who was attracted to your mom. You, better than anyone, know what a whirlwind of drama she is. What kind of person would be attracted to that? Someone with serious issues of their own, that’s who. So maybe he had something mental or emotional going on. Depression, bipolar disorder, addiction…maybe something else we can’t even imagine sitting here now. But, the bottom line is this—maybe he really did hold out as long as he could. Maybe he really did the best he knew how.”
“God, then what does that say about me, though? I’ve always thought of him as this ‘perfect dad’ character, like from a sitcom. I don’t know why I thought that. It wasn’t based on anything.”
“It was based on hope.”
“Wishful AKA delusional thinking, you mean.”
“I mean what I say. If I say hope, I mean hope.”
That caused me to pause. It was true. If there was one thing about Hunter that I knew was true, beyond a shadow of a doubt, was that he said what he meant and he meant what he said. Period.
“Okay, hope,” I conceded. “But, that still doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been thinking of him as this perfect khakis-and-cardigan guy. If that’s not true, it changes everything. If he was just as screwed up as my mom, then that means my entire gene pool is murky as hell. If I come from two royally fucked parents, then what exactly does that make me?”
“A warrior. An overcomer. An amazing person who is strong enough to flourish in spite of having the deck stacked against her. Someone who proves, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the sum of two things can be greater than its parts.”
I leaned my head against his shoulder and smiled to myself. Wow. All this time, one of my biggest rationales for not wanting to be with Hunter was that I wanted—thought I needed, as a matter of fact—to be with someone who’d never seen where I came from. I wanted someone who’d only seen me “at my best” so I could be a reflection of what they saw.
What I never realized was that, by seeing my worst circumstances, Hunter was seeing me “at my best.” He saw me, not where I came from—and in fact, he saw even more greatness in me because he knew what I’d fought against, and what I’d overcome. Seeing myself through his eyes, if I could, would actually be the greatest gift I could ever receive.
Not only that, but having him here beside me, acting all protective like he always did, served to hammer home a point to me in a major way, and the point was this: every single time I needed him, for the majority of my life, Hunter was right there next to me. Supporting me. Holding me up in a way that no one else could. The only time that he wasn’t there was because I pushed him away after our first time together.
I wasn’t going to do that anymore. A two-fold realization was slowly sinking in. First, that I wanted Hunter in my life. Second, that I didn’t want to be without Hunter in my life. Those may sound like the same thing, but emotionally, they struck me as two entirely separate issues that, together, added up to one major realization: Hunter was The One. I wanted us to be together.
Of course, I was scared shitless by the idea of committing to us. But I was scared even more shitless by the idea of not doing it.
Chapter 29
Sandy
“Open up, y’all! We’re here!” Acacia’s upbeat voice came through the hotel door at the same time her knock did, and my heart sped up. I’d had my realization about my relationship with Hunter, but I didn’t feel right about going ahead with him before I let Acacia and Avery know. I wanted to do things the proper way. I had a plan about getting each of them alone and telling them where my head was at. But, damn, this was going to be an awkward couple of conversations!
I slid my legs over the side of the bed to stand up and greet the twins, but Hunter turned back to me just as he put his hand on the door handle. “Nope! Back in bed. They can still say hello while you sit there.”
Oh, Hunter. The whole “interpreting instructions about rest as bedrest” thing was a classic overprotective Hunter move, but I wasn’t going to argue. I liked it. Having someone take care of me, and care about me, felt good.
Hunter opened the door and A-squared came in, looking beautiful and dapper, respectively, as always. I returned Acacia’s sunny smile, it was pretty well impossible not to. It was the essence of infectious.
“Thanks so much for coming over, you guys,” I said sincerely.
“Girl, please. After the scare you gave us? It’s been all Hunter could do to keep us away,” Acacia said as she bent over to give me a hug.
“Absolutely. It’s good to see so much color back in your face,” Avery agreed as he followed up with a hug of his own.
After the hugs, they headed over towards the two side chairs that sat in front of the window, but I interrupted them before they could get there. “Hey, don’t get too comfortable. The sickie has a demand, if that’s okay with everybody.”
“What?” Hunter jumped in, his voice already sounding worried and caveman-like.
“Nothing too big,” I laughed. “It’s just that I’m starving all of a sudden. In fact, pizza sounds amazing. Maybe you two guys could go on a grub run and leave us girls to hang out for a bit? I mean, Hunter, it’s been great with you taking care of me
and everything, but I have to admit, I’m a little overloaded on testosterone. I could stand to break it up with a little estrogen.”
“I don’t hate the idea of some girl talk,” Acacia agreed.
Hunter looked like he would rather saw off his own arm than leave me, but he reluctantly agreed, and the guys stepped out with promises to be back ASAP.
As soon as the hotel door clunked shut, Acacia turned to me, a knowing look on her face. “Alright, girl, what did you want to talk about?”
Wow. I wasn’t prepared to jump right in. I’d worked up a whole speech, and had been practicing it in my head. It was supposed to be a graceful segue into the topic, not this blunt, feet-first approach. It knocked me off my game.
My eyes widened. “I…um…”
Acacia chuckled. “Please. You didn’t just send them out to get pizza because you had a sudden and undeniable hankering for cheesy-saucy-doughy goodness. Although, I will admit, now that you’ve brought it up, I am fully on board. But that’s not why you cleared the room of sausage. Come on now, girl. ’Fess up. What’s on your mind?”
I laughed. Okay, if this was how Acacia wanted to play it, it was actually easier. “Okay, I admit it. You’re right, you caught me. I did want to talk to you alone.”
“I knew it! I’m never wrong about these things. Really, people should stop testing me. Now, spill your guts, girly.”
I took a deep breath. This was harder than I had thought it would be. Oh, of course, I knew it was going to be awkward. That was a given. But now that I was diving in, I found myself truly concerned about hurting Acacia. I’d grown to care about her deeply over the course of the few short days we’d known each other, and I didn’t want to do anything to cause her pain, or betray her. It didn’t change what I knew I needed to say. I had to be true to myself, to my own heart. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier to get the words out.
Chasing Perfect (Someday#4) Page 17
