Page 63 of Blackwood

“Garrett?” I turned to find him sitting next to me in a wheelchair. Dark circles ringed his eyes.

“Thank God.” He kissed the back of my hand, his lips so much warmer than they had been the last time I touched them.

Memories of our last moments together hit me like a fist. “Are you okay? You lost so much blood.” I realized he wore the same hospital gown as mine, and the pole next to him carried an IV bag connected to his arm.

“I’m good. I made it because of you.”

He ran his thumb along my lips. They felt chapped.

“How long have we been here?” I blinked hard to try to clear the floaters from my vision.

“Only a few hours.”

“Mr. Blackwood, please.” A nurse stood in the doorway, her arms crossed over her name badge. “We need to get this done.”

“In a minute.” His voice stayed near a whisper. “Had to see her.”

I sat up, but the pain in my shoulder had me falling back against my pillows. “Damn.” I took a breath as the pain lessened. “What does she want?”

“Surgery.” The nurse’s no-nonsense tone rose with each word. “We drew the air out from around his collapsed lung, but it’s not filling back up. He needs to have it repaired, but the stubborn jerk wouldn’t agree to surgery until he saw you.”

I pressed my palm to his cheek. “Have you lost what little mind you had left?”

He smiled and pressed his lips to my palm. “Maybe.”

How had I ever thought this man was a killer? The love in his heart shone in his eyes, and I leaned forward slowly to give him a kiss. He returned it, then backed away and drew in a wheezing breath. I glanced at the nurse, who shook her head and glared at Garrett.

“Go, stubborn man.” I kicked my chin toward the nurse. “I’ll be here when you get out.”

He squeezed my hand. “I’ll be back.”

“I know.”

The nurse walked over and unlocked Garrett’s wheels.

I wanted to ask her if he was going to be okay. No, I wanted her topromiseme he would be. I bit back my question as my eyes welled. Instead, I asked, “Do you think you could give him a shave while he’s out? You know, surgery protocol or something?”

“I don’t see any harm in asking Dr. Brown if it’s medically necessary.” The nurse smiled.

Garrett grunted as she rolled him away. “Not cool, Red. Not cool at all.”

The words, the three words that meant far more than just an arrangement of letters, beat on the bars of my heart, demanding I release them. But I couldn’t say them. Not even as he gave me one last soulful look. It was too soon, too intense.

I lay back in my bed and listened to him go, the slight squeak of the wheels on the linoleum growing fainter as my tears became a deluge that drowned out everything else.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Ineed more blowjobs.”Garrett pushed himself up on the couch as I adjusted his pillows.

“This is the fifth, no, the sixth time you’ve mentioned that since we got out of the hospital.” I finished getting him settled.

He’d been camping out on the couch so he could watch me during the days. I messed around the house, cleaning and trying to get it back into top shape—all the while lecturing him on feminism as he agreed and stared at my tits and ass. I refused to let the wound in my shoulder slow me down, and I itched to get back out into the woods to inspect the shallow grave I’d found.

“I think it’s a valid request.” He gripped my ass as I finished fluffing and stood.

“You know what the doc said.” I grabbed his wrist, and he tried to wrest it away from me.

He put up a fight at first, but then cursed under his breath and let me go. “When I get better, I’m going to blister your ass with my hand, Red.”

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