Page 137 of Ransom

Unless... My fingers tap against my phone. What if we could help Maggie? Really help her? I've got connections, resources. Maybe there's some treatment she hasn't tried, some specialist who could turn things around. Then Blair wouldn't have to become an instant parent. We could figure out what we want together and build something at our own pace.

I slide my arms under Blair, taking a deep breath before lifting her solid frame from the couch. She was never a small woman, but she's packed on more muscle since the last time I carried her. But thankfully, I'm a fuck of a lot stronger too. The weight of her against my chest feels so fucking right. My back strains as I adjust her position. It's a lot harder to do this when she's dead weight. Back then, holding her in my arms, threatening to toss her off the dock into the lake, she clung to me. It was the best feeling in the world back then. It made me feel like a man. Like I was invincible.

"Mm?" Her grey eyes flutter open briefly as I navigate through the doorway to my bedroom.

"Go back to sleep, baby."

Her head lolls against my shoulder, breath warm against my neck. "You got strong," she murmurs, then drifts off again. I ease her onto the bed, careful not to jostle her too much.

"You smell different," she mumbles as I pull the covers over her. "Expensive. It's good." Her fingers catch my shirt briefly before falling away.

My heart clenches at her words, so honest in her half-asleep state. I brush a strand of hair from her face, remembering all the times I'd imagined her here, in my bed. But not like this—drunk and hurting over her best friend's illness.

She burrows into my pillow, already deep in sleep again. Even now, she takes up space unapologetically, sprawled across the mattress like she owns it. Like she belongs here.

I'm never going to be able to sleep in this bed without her. And if I can't convince her to take a chance on me, I'm in for a lot of sleepless nights.

Hard pass. She's it for me. I know that in my core. And it doesn't matter how long it takes to prove it to her, I will.

Because when something matters this much, I don't fucking quit.

Two possible futures stretch before me: one where I help Blair raise Max in that small town, and one where Maggie beats this thing and Blair and I get a fresh start. Both have their challenges. Both would mean massive changes to my life in Chicago.

I'm one hundred percent on board with either one. Whatever path Blair's life takes, I'll be right there next to her.

But there’s nothing I can do about any of that right now. So I give in and do what I’ve been thinking about all night. Climb into my bed and pull the woman I love with everything in me, into my arms. She makes a low sound, and presses her hips closer to me, brushing against my hard cock. I don’t know if I’ll get a second of sleep with her this close to me, but I don’t give a shit.

I’m not ever letting her go.

43

BLAIR

Ishift in the uncomfortable hospital chair, watching Maggie's chest rise and fall. Max curls against her side, his comic book forgotten as he dozes. The steady beep of monitors fills the silence. None of us wanted to wake her up, so we're just waiting, keeping vigil.

"Her electrolytes are improving," Evie whispers, checking the chart. Her scrubs rustle as she moves around the bed. "The new medication seems to be helping."

I nod, grateful for her expertise. There's something comforting about Evie's presence—her no-nonsense attitude reminds me of my dad.

Colton stands by the window, his large frame casting shadows across the floor. He catches my eye and smiles. "Evie's the best. You're in good hands."

I nod because, yeah, she's pretty great. They all are. "They don't need you downstairs?" I ask her. Pretty sure Ransom said she works in the ER.

"I'm on break. I'll go back down later."

"I guess you don't really have to work since you're married to that guy, but you're still here." I don't ask her why she works.It's clear she's good at her job and that she loves it. Thankfully, she understands the question I'm really asking. She's at work on a Sunday.

The nurses that took care of Dad worked long hours, and their shifts were all over the map. I can't really imagine that kind of life. My job is a Monday to Friday, sometimes Saturday thing. I never work on Sundays. Well, not unless I want to. I like to go in and tinker with Dad's truck or work on other things. It's peaceful in the early mornings, before the rest of the town's up. And admittedly, I've gone to the garage more than I normally do the last few months. I've needed the escape.

So if she doesn't have to work like that, all those strange hours, then why does she?

"I love it. Helping people in the worst moments of their lives is a privilege." Her lips purse as she studies Maggie. "I've been thinking of making a change. I'd like to get on a more regular schedule or maybe do something else with my time. But this feeling? Like I'm helping? I don't want to give it up completely."

I glance over at her husband, who's watching her with warm eyes. The man's a goner over her. Of course he is; he married her. But I've seen a lot of married people who don't look at each other like that. Some hate each other, yeah, but some of them have a softer, more comfortable love. What Colton and Evie have doesn't look like that. There's comfort there, yes, and familiarity. But the fire simmering below the surface is what interests me. I haven't seen that before—not in real life, anyway. They look like they're on the verge of fucking.

I've never really been jealous of relationships. Sometimes I felt left behind, but more because people around me were coupling up and having kids, and I started getting left out of the conversations. But I never met anyone that made me feel like I was on fire. Even the way I felt for Ransom back then wasn't this. It was softer, more innocent.

My mind drifts to last night, fragments floating through the fog of too much whiskey. Ransom's arms around me, strong and sure as he carried me to bed. The way his muscles flexed against my side, his heartbeat steady under my ear. I know physical strength isn't the measure of a person, but his strength is really fucking appealing. It makes me feel like I can lean on him, physically and emotionally, and either way, he's got me.

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