Page 19 of Blind Date With a Cop
I wake to the steady beep of a monitor and the faint hiss of oxygen. My throat’s dry, my body’s heavy. There’s a weight on my hand—warm, gentle.
I force my eyes open.
“Grammie.” My voice is a croak. “How long have you been here?”
She smiles, her weathered hand holding mine. “All night, Blakey. The surgery went just fine.”
“Surgery?” I try to push myself up, but pain slices through my arm. “What kind of surgery?”
“Anastomosis,” she says matter-of-factly. “That’s another way of saying arterial repair. You’re going to be just fine. The vascular surgeon says you can be back to work in about a month.”
“A month?” I tip my head back against the pillow. “That’s a long time.”
“You could choose a different line of work, you know. There’s no shame in that.”
I shake my head. “I’m a police officer, Grammie. It’s who I am. It’s what I was born to do.”
She pats my hand, her eyes glistening. “I know, sweetheart.”
I glance around the room. “Has anyone else been here?”
“The chief thinks just about the entire Love Canyon Police Department. They’ve been taking turns outside your door, keeping watch. You’ve never been alone.”
Emotion swells in my chest, choking me up. “That…that means a lot.”
Her smile deepens. “And Cassie. She was here all night, too. Poor thing asked the surgeon a thousand questions. When she heard you’d be back to yourself in no time, she finally let me send her home for a few hours’ rest.”
Relief, gratitude, and something deeper wash over me all at once. She stayed. She cares.
“Thanks, Gram,” I murmur, my eyes already slipping shut again. “That’s all I needed to know.”
And this time, when I drift back to sleep, I dream of Cassie.
Chapter Fifteen
Cassie
Blake has been calling me for a week, and I haven’t answered his calls or texts. Not one of them.
Every time my phone lights up with his name, I try. I swear I try. But the second I reach for it, the tears start all over again until I’m choking on sobs and curled up in bed like I’m broken.
I can’t stop crying. I can’t paint. I can’t even breathe without remembering that news anchor’s voice:Officer Blake Donovan has been shot.
The thought of losing him—the thought of it happening again—it rips me to pieces. I love him. God help me, I do. But I can’t stay with him because the fear is too powerful, and I’m not strong enough for that.
A sharp knock rattles my door.
“Cassie? I know you’re in there,” Rene’s voice carries through the wood, firmer than a drill sergeant. “And if you don’t open up, I’m calling the police for a welfare check. They’ll break it down.”
I drag myself off the couch. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Don’t open the door, and let’s find out.”
And with Rene, I know she means it. “Fine,” I grumble, yanking the door open.
She breezes in, wrinkling her nose. “When was the last time you showered? Or changed those hideous flannel pajamas?”
I glance down. “They’re fine.”
