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She had tried to bring up their last conversation this morning, but he’d brushed it off. She had been totally ready to push the issue until the damned cops had showed up. She knew they had just been doing their job but when he had asked her the same question for the third time, she had been ready to freak out on him.
By the time Jamie came back to her room, her ribs ached, her head pounded, and her shoulder was throbbing. The doctor had gone through the laundry list of her injuries today. She had cited several cracked ribs, a nasty concussion, several sets of stitches, some tearing in her trapezius muscle, along with three bullet wounds and a collapsed lung. All in all, she was lucky. She didn’t feel it right now, though.
He finally said, “Everyone has gone home for the evening. You’re hurting, baby. Take something for the pain so you can sleep.”
“I will when you go,” Cora said.
“Baby,” he said, looking at her steadily. “I’m not going anywhere. Please. Take something for the pain.”
Cora used her uninjured arm to hit the call button. A few minutes later, a nurse bustled in.
“I think I’d like something for the pain now. I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep, otherwise.”
The nurse picked up the chart, reviewed it quickly and said, “I can imagine. I’ll be right back with it.”
“Thank you,” Jamie said, stroking a hand over her hair. “
A few minutes later, shot administered, Cora could feel the throbbing throughout her entire chest and shoulder begin to recede. It was as if she could finally breathe again. She looked up at Jamie, who sat next to her bed.
“I’m so glad that you’re here,” she mumbled, beginning to feel slightly muddled already.
She could see the confusion on Jamie’s face when he asked, “Where else would I be, sweetheart?”
“I wasn’t sure you’d...” Cora trailed off, her thoughts beginning to blur.
He shook his head with a sigh and said, “I’m yours. How could I be anywhere but here, Cora?”
Cora felt a peaceful warmth slip over her as her eyes fluttered closed. She knew, as she finally slid into much needed sleep that she would never love anyone else the way that she loved Jamie.
Three days later, Cora was wheeled out of the hospital toward Jamie’s car. She had been perfectly fine with walking but the nurses had fussed at her when she’d tried to stand up. She was still wobbly on her feet anyway. She had never realized how much the stomach muscles actually came into play during the walking process.
Last night there had been an epic battle in her hospital room, when she’d talked about going home. She knew she might need some help for a few days, so when Jamie had offered, she had gratefully accepted.
Her father had assumed that Cora was going to be coming home with him. So had both Celia and Taryn. Cora had pointed out as kindly as possible that there was no way either Taryn or Celia could lift her in the event that she fell. And that there was no way she’d let her father help her shower.
They had all eventually conceded the point that Jamie was the most able to help her, but not until a floor nurse had to come in and remind them that they weren’t the only people in the universe. Taryn had flushed and her father had apologized.
Throughout the entire exchange, Jamie had been sitting quietly next to her, holding her hand. When she had groaned, he had just squeezed her hand. He had reminded her that all of the yelling was because of how loved she was. It was really hard to be annoyed by that.
* * * *
Cora had been home for almost two weeks and she was bored out of her mind. She lay in bed, propped up, flipping through television channels. Jamie worked in the next room over. He had commandeered her office and all but moved in so he could continue working on the Shinobi campaign. She was, for the most part, able to take care of herself now. He seemed to want to be here, though. She couldn’t bear for him to leave.
He slept in the guest room. She knew it was because he was afraid he’d bump her or roll over on to her in the night. It was reasonable. It was rational. She only felt the distance between them, though. She was miserable.
She had tried to have the conversation with him a few times now, about how they had left things prior to her shooting. He had dodged the subject, citing work or some other thing that needed to be done. There would be no more of that, though.
Cora turned off the television, slid down into a more comfortable position and called his name. A minute later, he popped his head in and asked, “What’s up?”
“Are you busy,” she asked.
He hovered in the doorway and said, “Not especially. I can take a minute. Did you want something to eat?”
“Can you lay with me,” she asked him, disliking the pleading note her voice had taken on.
He blinked at her, and then watched as she folded back the blankets.
Hesitantly, he slid in beside her, a curious look on his face.
