Page 57 of Second Chance Fate

Daisy smiled at Taylor once more before leaving.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Caleb asked as he closed the distance between them.

“Ready to go.” She smiled.

“You look…” His eyes scanned down.

Taylor had asked Owen to bring her some clothes. She’d taken a shower and was wearing a plain pale blue t-shirt, black sweats, a baseball hat, and tennis shoes. It’s not like she was ready for the runway, but she wasn’t in a hospital gown, so she felt like it was a win.

“Beautiful,” Caleb finally finished as he exhaled.

She chuckled. “Right.”

“You do.” The intensity in his eyes made her feel like he might just mean it, but she reminded herself he was saying it out of obligation. He was her husband, and she knew even though they didn’t have a traditional marriage, Caleb would want to be the best husband he could for her.

“You are not under any legal obligation to compliment me, just fyi,” she told him, letting him off the hook.

His eyes held her gaze, and the energy between them crackled with tension. “It’s not an obligation; it’s a privilege.”

Before she had a chance to respond or even process what he’d said, Mario arrived with a wheelchair. After saying hello to Caleb, he fanned his arm out like a spokesmodel and said, “Your chariot awaits.”

Taylor was more than capable of walking out of the hospital on her own two feet—compared to how she felt when she was admitted, she could run laps at this point—but she knew the drill. Rules were rules; the hospital insisted on wheelingpatients to ensure their safety for liability purposes when being discharged.

Mario not only picked up on her less-than-enthusiastic feelings toward the forced transportation, it seemed he’d anticipated them. He reached into the back pouch of the wheelchair and pulled out a sash. Before she knew what was happening, he made a show of pretending to open a fake envelope. “And the winner of Miss Pine Ridge General is…Taylor.” He cheered as he placed the sash that read Miss Pine Ridge General over Taylor’s head and motioned for Caleb to hand her the bouquet of flowers, which he did. “Miss Pine Ridge General, the discharge parade is about to commence, and yourfloatawaits.”

Mario held his hand out to her, and her mouth split in a wide smile as she placed her hand in his palm.

“I hope you’ve been working on your pageant wave,” he teased as he steadied her, so she could lean on him.

Taylor did her best queenly wave as she lowered down into the seat, grateful that her nausea and dizziness had faded days ago.

“There she is.” Mario clapped. “Love it.”

As she got settled, she asked, “How many patients have been ‘Miss Pine Ridge General?’”

Mario gasped as he placed his hand on his chest as if the question offended him. “How could you even think…only you, of course!”

Her head tilted to the side as her eyes narrowed with suspicion. She liked Mario a lot, and they’d forged what she hoped was a lasting friendship during her stay, but there was no way he’d make the sash specifically for her.

“It’s true. No other patients have shared the title. I, however, was Miss Pine Ridge General last Halloween. I thought I lost thesash, but on my way in here, I saw it peeking out from the back pouch.”

That tracked.

“Are you ready, Miss Pine Ridge General?” Mario turned her toward the door.

In anticipation of her release, Caleb had packed up all of the stuffed animals and cards and taken them home two nights earlier. The only personal item she had was her overnight bag, which had her toiletries, clothes, purse, computer, and chargers. Caleb grabbed it.

“Ready.” She took in a shaky breath and tried to calm her nerves about leaving the hospital and going home. Home. She wasn’t going back to the cottage. She was going to be living at Caleb’s house; she wasn’t sure what to expect.

They headed out of the room, and Caleb fell in step beside Mario as he wheeled her down the bright, echoing corridors. The hospital was between shifts, and the halls were mostly empty except for the occasional frazzled-looking intern clutching stacks of charts like life preservers. Every nurse they saw waved at the trio. Taylor wasn’t sure if they were waving at her because they recognized her from her stay, or if they knew her because she’d been there so much with Owen, or if they weren’t waving at her at all and were waving at Caleb because he was “Hot Pastor.” He also was her husband. She was married to “Hot Pastor.” Several times a day she was sure that it hadn’t happened at all; she was sure she’d imagined it. Since legally tying the knot, neither had brought the subject of their union up again. Maybe she had actually hallucinated. Maybe one of her medications had caused her to be delusional.

Mario hummed as they arrived on the first floor. They stepped off of the elevator, and Taylor glanced up at Caleb. He was so handsome. His square jaw was covered in stubble. His brown eyes held depths that she found herself easily gettinglost in. The slope of his neck leading to his shoulders made her mouth water like she had some kind of vampire fetish. The night they’d spent together, she’d fallen asleep with her head on his chest as he held her. It was the safest she’d ever felt, which was insane considering she’d known Caleb for about twenty-four hours at that point.

As they walked through the sliding glass doors of the hospital entrance, the outdoors overwhelmed her with a rush—crisp, fresh, pine-scented air filled her lungs, so different from the antiseptic recycled environment she’d been living in. There was a line of cars idling at the curb, and Caleb’s Jeep was front and center, hazard lights blinking. He opened the passenger door and leaned down to help her stand; his large hands were gentle but firm as he steadied her.

Their skin touched, and Taylor was hit with a full-body jolt—like Caleb’s palms had live wires attached to them. Her breath caught, and for a second she felt dizzy again, but not from getting up too fast. She wondered if he noticed her reaction as she climbed into the seat. Her hand was trembling as she reached over her shoulder and pulled her seatbelt across her chest. She was sure he must have picked up on the way she was responding to him being so close to her, but when she glanced in his direction, she saw him steadfastly waiting, patiently, until she was secure in her seat and buckled in.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft enough that it felt like a secret.

---