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Still, I needed to see that nothing would go wrong before trusting anything. And besides, b) I hated the thought of her not being beside me at night. What a 180 from congratulating myself so frequently that I had my king-sized bed all to myself to now aching for her when she wasn’t in my sights. The night I’d taken her to dinner and the beach when I’d left her alone for the night had been a long cold and sleepless night in the guest room without her warmth wrapped around me. The nights in Mexico without her had been torment, not feeling her, not hearing her breathing.
The Japanese restaurant I took her to was almost empty. The hostess I’d talked to that morning wasn’t in sight. The rest of the staff welcomed us and pointed to a table. She didn’t know what to order so I told her I’d order for us.
She examined everything carefully and skeptically but tried every dish that the server put in front of her after having first asked the waiter about shellfish. The waiter had waved her concerns off because of what we’d ordered but he didn’t speak very clear English so we were careful about what we’d ordered. She was good-natured about it despite telling me she hadn’t been a very adventurous eater in life so far.
“No shit, Miss Vanilla Ice Cream is my Favorite,” I laughed and she blushed, “Until I found you, Mr. Blackjack Berry Thunder. Or should I say, until I was betrothed to you.” She didn’t look unhappy when she said that. I smiled at her.
“I’m expanding your palate, and your horizons,” I wiggled my eyebrows at her.
She wiggled hers back at me, “Mmm hmmm. So you’re off on a business trip?” she added.
I scrunched up my face, “Yeah,”
“Unpleasant business?” she asked, then she said, “Or should I not ask?”
I shook my head, “I’m just not looking forward to leaving you at home. I’m thinking I should take you with me.”
“Really? Why? Where?” She looked excited and the idea of her being happy to come with me instead of having time without me felt good. Real good.
“Yeah, it’s too soon for me since the security breaches at home to feel comfortable so I don’t know that I’d be all that productive unless you were with Dare. But he’s too wrapped up with work shit to be your bodyguard 24/7. I’m vetting a few of my senior guys and will make a decision soon about rotations for security for the house. And I’m not sure I want to be without you.”
She blushed and smiled at me.
“So, tomorrow maybe after we see your foster parents we can go home and pack for Vegas.”
Her face lit up, “Vegas?”
I nodded. She clapped her hands and then was suddenly downtrodden.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m 19. Vegas isn’t fun unless you’re 21.” She pouted.
“Unless you’re a high roller.” I said, “No one will card you when you’re with me, baby girl.”
Her smile returned. She took a sip of her Japanese green tea and then started to scratch at her chest. I leaned forward because I could see big blotchy hives across her neck and cleavage. She was looking a little pale.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I hope nothing we ate had any shellfish.”
She didn’t look good at all.
“You’d better go make yourself puke, Tia. Now!” I waved the waiter over as she dashed to the bathroom. I tried to talk to the waiter but he kept telling me No to the shellfish question. Clearly she was having a reaction to the food.
I burst into the bathroom and she was sitting on the floor beside the toilet in a cold sweat and she looked like death warmed over. Fuck!
I pulled out my phone and called 9-1-1. They were too slow so I called back from the jeep and told them nevermind as I’d carried her to my jeep and sped down the highway to the hospital five minutes away and then carried her in myself, losing my shit until they rushed out and got her on a gurney. She’d still been conscious but she was covered in hives and she told me her heart was racing.
By the time she was stuck with a needle, stable, and admitted in the little country hospital, I’d found out the restaurant’s miso soup’s secret family ingredient was clams. The hostess had originally had no idea because it was a ‘secret’ recipe and the waiter was a fucking bonehead.
She was going to be fine. They’d given her epinephrine and wanted to watch her overnight. I slept in the chair in her room, sort of, sitting up. The following morning I called her foster parents and told them that we couldn’t make brunch and I explained what had happened. Two hours later they turned up in the waiting room, despite my telling them on the phone that she’d be fine and that they didn’t need to come. I never should’ve told them what hospital we were at.
I wasn’t best pleased about it because I wasn’t on the ball. I’d slept like shit and they approached me all judgmental-looking. I’d been on the phone with my brother, dealing with some business stuff and giving him an update. I told him to keep everyone there, that I’d bring Tia home tomorrow, a day later. After she was let out of the hospital I’d take her back to the farm for one more day. I wasn’t ready to step back into my regular life quite yet.
“Mr. Ferrano? Cal Crenshaw. My wife Rose,” the tall, fair, thin professor-looking guy said. I was walking through the lobby when he’d stepped away from the nurse’s station where the nu
rse had pointed at me. He stopped me and as soon as he did, he shook my hand quickly and his wife, a short roundish Italian woman held her hands together firmly in front of herself. She was shooting daggers at me with her eyes.
