by Vonnie Davis
“See? You’re a natural for ballroom dancing?” Milt took her hand and kissed it. “If I had your phone number, I could call you about going to a couple dance lessons.” To Boyd’s shock, the nurse pulled out a slip of paper and wrote something on it before placing it in Milt’s hand.
Sam elbowed Boyd. “Did you notice he didn’t fart once during that whole dance routine? There’s something fishy about his ass. I think he has it trained to make racket on command.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
The door opened and a momentary shaft of light stabbed the pain in Graci-Ella’s head so fiercely, it went from barely tolerable to hellacious bad. Quiet footsteps and the creak of vinyl echoed in the dark room as someone sat in a chair, peeled off the lid of a container allowing the aroma of coffee to waft toward her nose in the darkness.
“Whoever you are, stop making so much noise and give me a sip of your coffee.”
“Are you sure? I like my coffee like I like my women. Hot and sweet. But you’re welcome to a sip, or two.” Boyd’s deep voice soothed her senses; cocooned her in safety.
“And I like coffee the way I prefer men. Hot and mine. Now, prop me up so I can have a sip.
Daddy Boyd came out. “What’s the magic word?”
“Please?” She would so get him for this…once she felt human again.
He stood and set the paper cup on her nightstand before he slid his arm under her neck. “How are you feeling, Sweetness?” His voice was low and intimate. His cologne, a mixture of woodsy scents and musk, was so familiar. She burrowed into him and moaned in satisfaction.
“I feel better when you hold me. Maybe I don’t need coffee. Maybe I just need held.”
He chuckled. “Oh no, you don’t. You’re not going to tell everyone how I wouldn’t even share my coffee with you. Besides, I bought two cups just in case you woke up, so this one is yours.” He reached for the cup and placed it in her hand.
She took more than a couple sips. “What time is it?”
He kept his arm around her shoulders, gently rubbing her arm. “Almost three in the morning. Are you alert enough to hear about the damages?”
“From the wreck?” She sipped more coffee. “Sure. Although I feel most of them.”
He took the cup from her and set it on the nightstand again. Before he helped her lie back down, he fluffed her pillows. “Concussion, which will mean bad headaches, dizziness and sensitivity to light and sounds for a few days. Both of your eyes are swollen nearly shut and getting blacker by the minute. If you came by the station now, you’d get the nickname of Raccoon.”
“Oh, you’re a real deck of cards, Boyd. You ought to be dealt with.” Gosh, she sounded like her dad with his dumb one liners.
“You had some glass shards removed from your ear and along your hairline. To repair all that, you needed six stitches and several butterfly bandages. You’ve got a sprained wrist just as you predicted, Dr. Santana.” He placed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “You should have become a doctor instead of a lawyer,” he said with a degree of humor. “A bruised spleen and liver from the force of the impact and your seatbelt. No internal bleeding, thank God. A banged-up knee that will be sore for a few days. Sounds like a lot, but it could have been so much worse.”
She reached for her coffee and he placed the cup in her hand. After a few sips, she glanced at him through the slits in her puffy eyes. “I guess my part-time modeling gig is out, huh? Gee, and it was the swimsuit issue too.”
He took the cup from her and replaced it. “You better be shitting me on that score.”
Graci-Ella, touched by his reaction, cupped his cheek. “I only work on one side of the camera.” He leaned his head toward her palm and kissed it. “I was wondering about doing a month in the charity calendar with those two old men your squad adopted. Do you think they’d pose for me?”
Boyd laughed. “Milt would in a heartbeat. Sam, you might have to con into doing it.”
She snuggled into her pillows, holding onto his face, kissing him here and there. She raked her fingernails up and down his pecs and around his nipples.
He kissed her as if he was afraid he’s break her lips. So she took charge. When she bit his lower lip, he jerked back. “Holy hell, easy! You were just in an awful car accident.”
“Gee, good of you to remind me. Now bring those lips back down here and kiss me like you mean it. I need a healing touch.”
He came close again, his lips barely touching hers. “Oh, I mean it. Let my lips tell you.” This time his lips spoke quite eloquently—and in several different languages. “You’ve kissed long enough. Go back to sleep. I’ll be here or on a coffee run.”
“Don’t you have to go back to work?”
“Aunt Jinny will come for me after she takes Matt to school. She’ll give me a ride to the station. It’s all clear with the captain. He said since I can’t do much anyhow, I’m as worthless as tits on a boar hog.”
“Tits, huh? I’ll show you mine after you show me yours!” She flashed him a grin.
“What kind of drugs do they have you on anyhow? Female Viagra? Look, Mr. Magoo, could you even see them if I were to flash you mine?”
She covered both of her swollen eyes with her hands. “No, dammit, just my luck. I’m almost as blind as that old cartoon character.”
He laughed. “Go to sleep, Graci-Ella. Sleep and get well, sweetheart.”
“What about Darryl?” She grasped Boyd’s hand and placed it against her collarbone. “Can he still get to me?”
“He’s in jail for attempted vehicular murder and resisting arrest.”
“Please find out what judge he had and what his bail was set at. He could still get out on bond and hunt me down. He wants me dead.”
He placed a gentle kiss to her lips. “He’ll have to go through me first. Suddenly, I have two people in my life I can’t live without.” He burrowed his face in the crook of her neck and they held each other like that for several minutes. “Sleep. Get well.”
A nurse woke her to tell her breakfast was coming. She helped her to the bathroom, and Boyd had been right, her knee hurt to walk. Still she’d injured it worse playing ball. She thought of leaning over the sink to get a closer view of her face in the mirror, but figured she couldn’t do anything about the bruises and stitches anyhow. Why stress over it?
“My name is April. I’ll be here until seven this evening. Here’s an ice pack I want you to keep over your eyes to help with the swelling while you wait for your food. I’ll see you get a fresh one every couple hours. Your cell phone is here with a note under it. Want me to read it to you?”
“Sure.” It had to be from Boyd.
April snorted. “ʻHey, Pretty Raccoon Eyes. Call me. We’ll talk about tits and stuff.ʼ I’m not even going to ask.” She whizzed out of the room, laughing. “Whoo, that’s a conversation I’d like to overhear.”
After lunch, her doctor came in and washed his hands. At least she hoped that’s what he was doing. Water ran, but she couldn’t distinguish his movements that well. Just a shadowy form. “Good Afternoon, Ms. Santana.” He leaned his hip against her bed. “Tell me how everything is going. How do you feel, top to bottom.”
“Major headache. I can’t handle the lights, at all. Sometimes, I sense the room spinning and at other times it’s like it’s flipping end for end. It’s getting worse, not better. Eating makes me queasy. So does moving my head quickly.” Graci-Ella rested a hand on her stomach. “I can’t see much with my eyes practically swollen shut like this, but my body still feels the circling. The ice packs the nurse makes me use helps with the extreme discomfort a little.”
“Anything else that hurts?”
“Some soreness where my shoulder strap went and in my knee where it banged the steering column, but nothing I can’t handle.”
“So your main problems are the concussion and swollen eyes.” He pressed around her eyes and tried to open them further. “I can drain some of this edema to help you see a little better.” He fingered around her e
yebrows and eyelids, plus the area below. “Yes, I think I better remove some of this fluid.” He pressed the intercom and told the nurse what he’d need.
April brought the items in and prepared the needle for him to use on Graci-Ella, who grabbed the doctor’s hairy wrist. “Tell me you don’t mean to stick that needle in my eyes!”
“No. Only one needle per eye.” He swiveled toward April. “Sterilize the area, please. Ms. Santana, look straight ahead and do not move your head.”
What if he jammed the needle in too far or at the wrong spot? Thank God, it was a quick procedure that made her sweat. When he was through pressing the area with a gauze pad, she was happy she could see again. While her vision field wasn’t as large as normal, it was at least much better than a few minutes ago. He flashed a light in her eyes to check her retina response.
“April, give her about fifteen minutes and then put another ice pack on it for half an hour. Thirty minutes on and thirty off. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ms. Santana.” He charged out of the room.
“Wait! When can I go home?” She had cases to prepare. Briefs to write. Boyd had used her phone to call Elizabeth, her co-worker at the law firm, explaining about the accident and what hospital she was at. He asked her to inform the bosses that Graci-Ella would be out of the office for a few days and to please call the clients to clear up why she’d never shown for the meeting she had scheduled last night.
The doctor paused a moment. “Go home? Tomorrow at the earliest. More than likely, the day after.” The door swung shut as he hurried to another patient for five minutes.
“April, would you mind composing a text to the guy who left me the note? I have his number up on the screen, but looking at small print and buttons makes my headache worse.” She extended her cell to the nurse, who smiled mischievously.
“This means I’ll get to hear your response to his note. Right?”
Graci-Ella grinned. “How does this sound? ‘You talk to the firemen about your tits. I’ve got doctors to talk to about mine. They have nice warm hands.’ Think that’ll get him fired up?”
“Ohhh, girl, you are so bad.” April’s fingers flew across the keys, and she read it back to her. “Should I hit send?”
“Yup! Let him stew on that for a while. He’s been so focused on what might turn out bad for him, I want to refocus his mind for a bit.”
Her cell dinged and April chuckled. “Well, you certainly refocused his brain cells.”
Graci-Ella leaned up on her elbow, wincing through the pain. “Read it to me.”
“ʻDon’t make me come over there and show you how damn warm MY hands are.’ Oh, girl, you have pissed him off.”
“Respond with this. ʻPfffttt.’”
April giggled and then snorted. “I think you’ve got his number. Are you two dating or just at the circling stage?”
“We’ve just made the step from circling to dating.” Her cell dinged. “What does he say?”
“ʻPfffttt, my ass!!!!!!’ That’s with six exclamation points.” April’s eyes opened wide. The most I ever get are three.”
“Tell him I love a man with a good exclamation point.” By now both of them were laughing. “April, I just got a wild thought. We ought to co-author a book, How to drive a man insane in eight texts, or less.” Graci-Ella laughed so hard, her side hurt.
“I better stop dabbling in your love life and get you an ice pack for your eyes. Need anything for the pain?”
“Aspirin or something for my headache would be nice. The throbbing never lets up. In fact, I feel like it’s getting worse.”
April patted her arm. “Okay, girlfriend, be back in a few minutes.” She chuckled as she left the room, “How to drive a man insane. Wheee!”
As Graci-Ella waited, she imagined Boyd scowling and barking at everyone at the station. A slow smile spread. He and the captain would be at each other’s throats all day long.
The nurse returned with some aspirins and the ice pack. Graci-Ella had no sooner swallowed the pills than the door opened and one hellacious pissed off fireman stood there, as he practically filled the height and width of the doorway. In his grasp was a vase of roses. Under his arm, a present.
April kept patting Graci-Ella’s arm and whispering, “Is that him? Is that him? Mr. Exclamation Point? Sweet Jesus, tell me that’s not him. Can I have all that delicious muscle if you don’t want it? I don’t care how shallow I sound.”
He swaggered into her room as if he knew his mere presence was hiking up the temperature by ten degrees—and didn’t give a good god damn. “I brought you some roses that reminded me of you. Pure white on the inside and edged with passion red. That’s where I was when I got your first text. You’re damn lucky I didn’t buy you a freaking cactus with lots of jaggy burrs.”
“Is it me, or is it hot in here?” April couldn’t seem to take her eyes off him and her slow perusal covered every inch of his body.
He sat the vase on Graci-Ella’s nightstand and flashed a sexy as hell grin at April. “Will I have to kiss you before you’ll move out of the way so I can get to the woman I snuck out of work to see?”
“Yes!” The nurse outstretched her arms and Boyd’s eyebrows rose. He stepped back one pace.
“No! I need to thank him for the roses.”
“Text him,” April quipped over her shoulder.
“Good bye, April. I’m sure you have other sick people to see to.” Graci-Ella gave her a gentle shove.
The nurse shook her finger at Boyd. “You’re lucky I’m so devoted to my patients.” She bustled out of the room.
He glared at Graci-Ella? “Pfffttt? You had the audacity to text me ‘Pfffttt’? And to brag to me about doctors and their warm hands on your body?” He braced his hands on either side of her head and leaned closer with each word he spoke. He sat on her bed, lifted her and held her on his lap. Shifted her so her chest was against his six-pack abs. Then he lowered his mouth.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Boyd sucked on Graci-Ella’s bottom lip and swept his tongue in her mouth to tangle with hers. Kissing her was like charging into a burning building in his boxers. Every cell in his body was scorching with heat. He trailed kisses down her neck and snuggled in the curve where her neck met her shoulder. The place he loved to burrow into the essence of her sweetness.
“Did…did you really sneak out of work?” Her pretty blue eyes rose to focus on his.
“No, I’m at the grocery store picking up food for the station and the pharmacy to replenish our first aid supplies. I’ll be so energized when I leave here, I’ll run through the stores.” He bit her chin. “How’s my baby feeling?”
“The doctor put needles in my eyes to draw out some of the fluid so I could open them enough to see.”
“Baby, was he rough with you?” He kissed the corner of each eye, as gentle as a butterfly landing on bergamot flowers like Matt and Aunt Jinny had planted in the back yard. “I can’t stand the thought of you being hurt.” His hand swept up the back of her thigh and over her naked bottom. He cupped her ass. “Now, tell me the doctor’s hands are as warm as mine.”
“You’ll probably have to keep them there for a while so I can make an educated opinion.” She bit his earlobe and he squeezed a firm behind. “My man.” Two words. Two tiny words that made his heart swell with happiness.
They kept kissing until their mingled heavy breathing filled the room. If he didn’t soon stop, he’d have her astride his lap, buried deep inside her. His cock was throbbing and yelling, Go for it! Go for it now! He placed his face in the crook of her neck and sighed—probably not the best of ideas.
“Sweetness, I brought you a gift.”
Boyd gently sat her on the bed, fluffed her pillows so she could sit up and handed her a wrapped present. “It’s from everyone at the station.”
“Really” Oh, how sweet! I’m touched. So incredibly touched.” She was like a child, ripping off the paper and ribbon. Then laughter exploded. “Rory the Raccoon? Oh, I know who had a hand in this.” She l
eafed through the pages, admiring the artwork.
“Everyone signed their nickname inside. Straight Up, Wolf, Ghost, Comic. Big Kahunas, that’s Ivy Jo, Lil’ Wolf is Jace. Oh, Emily is Black Thumb.” Boyd smiled as he took Graci-Ella’s hand and pressed his lips to her palm. “Believe me, I’m in no hurry to leave, but I do have things to do for the station. Call me later. I’d call you, but I’m afraid you’ll be sleeping.”
“Wait! Where’s your signature?” She waved the book at him as he strode out.
“Look for it, baby. It’ll be in a spot you’d least expect to find it.”
She found it interesting as she slowly leafed through the book of large drawings, reading the story, to see where each fireperson had signed. A few simply scrawled their nickname in the white area around the pictures. One signed along the stem of a flower. Wolf took the page with the mother and baby raccoon to print his nickname; he was really excited about his wife’s pregnancy. Ivy Jo wrote hers on the backend of a raccoon crawling up a tree. One animal by a stream, getting a drink, had a captain’s hat drawled on it and Straight Up scrolled down the white part of his chest.
Then she spied it. In a hollowed out tree trunk were two raccoons. The biggest one was in the front of the opening as if he were protecting the smaller one peeking out from around him. On the bigger animal’s one paw was printed Tiny and on the other he’d put Boyd. As though he were protecting her from everything bad in the world, he’d printed My Love in the white part under her neck, where he liked to snuggle. He struck her as that kind of guy. Protective of those he cared for. Alpha, yet gentle beneath the rough exterior. She hoped old man Henry did a good job and won the custody case for Boyd. If he lost Matt, she wasn’t sure he’d ever recover.
After reading the book and smelling the roses, the walls of her room seemed to close in. Graci-Ella needed to move about. It seemed as if she’d been lying in bed for a week. She slowly got out of bed and walked a few laps around her little room. Maybe a longer walk would do her knee some good—stretch out the muscles and exercise it.
