Will do.
The paramedics motioned to them. “We could use some help getting her out of here. To be on the safe side, we’ll transport her on the board until we get tests done.”
Blake jogged over to help. Paradise’s beautiful amber eyes were open, and she looked alert as she emerged from the dumpster. He picked a piece of wilted lettuce from her hair and thanked God she was alive.
Chapter 3
Paradise tried to focus her gaze, but her eyes drifted shut despite the noise of beeping machines and the flurry of nurses tending to her. Some kind of antiseptic odor stung her nose, and she reached up to touch her aching head. “Blake?” She wanted him here, holding her.
“Right here, babe,” he murmured to her left.
She forced her eyes open again and blinked to try to focus on his square-jawed face. “What happened?”
His lips brushed her cheek. “You’re going to be okay. No need to remember anything now. Rest and you’ll feel better.”
She frowned. “My head hurts.”
“You have a mild concussion. The doctor is keeping you overnight for observation.”
She closed her eyes, and the next thing she heard were voices whispering around her. The wordssedativeandpain med. She opened her eyes and blinked. Morning light streamed through the open blinds of a quiet room. Blake sprawled in a chair beside her with his head back at an awkward angle, and a slight snore escaped his mouth. She must have slept for hours.
An IV dripped fluid into her arm, but her mouth was dry. She raised the head of her bed and pulled the table over her lap, then reached for the water glass and gulped the tepid water. The moisture slaked her dry mouth and throat.
“You’re awake.”
She turned to Blake and smiled into his tired blue eyes. “You should have gone home and gotten some rest.”
“I wanted to be here. You don’t remember, but I rode in the ambulance with you yesterday.”
She had chaotic memories of a dark figure rushing toward her and the stench of trash. She sniffed the skin on her arm. “I think I was in a dumpster. I still smell garbage.”
He grimaced and pointed out stains on his shirt. “It’s probably me. I was in there with you, but I didn’t get a fresh gown like you.”
“Did the police find who attacked me?”
“You remember the attack?”
“Just impressions. I didn’t see his face.”
“He?”
She couldn’t bring the figure in her brain into focus. “It would have to have been a man to lift me up over the side of the dumpster.”
He bent down to give her a lingering kiss. Her pulse jumped and she palmed his scruffy cheeks before wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing his head down for a proper kiss. When he straightened, she smiled. “You’re whiskery and you smell like rotten meat, but I love you anyway. And I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’ll remedy both of those as soon as I can. Is your head feeling better? You kissed me like you meant it.”
“I did mean it. The pain is better, and my vision isn’t blurry. I want to go home.”
The door opened and a male voice boomed into her room. “Did someone say they were ready to go home?” A balding doctor in his sixties with a congenial smile stepped into view.
She struggled to sit up. “That would be me. Can you bust me out of this joint?”
“What, you don’t enjoy the hospital food and the constant fussing?”
“If I could remember it all, I’m sure you took very good care of me.”
The doctor listened to her heart and lungs, checked her eyes, then stepped back. “I think we can let you go home, if only to let Blake here get a shower. I could tell I was nearly to your room when I was twenty feet from the door. I’ll start the paperwork.”
