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“Duke. Buddy, you okay?” Quick’s nervous tone made him want to reassure his friend, but he couldn’t at the moment. Opening his mouth would surely cause the water and broth he’d consumed to spray out in front of him. He gave a tight shake of his head and Quick hurriedly demanded that the orderly turn around and take him back to his room.
“This was good, Mr. Morgan. Some people don’t make it two steps away from the bed.” The big guy turned them slowly and got Duke back in his room. But damn if Duke didn’t want to cry as soon as he was back in the bed. It seemed that his mind must’ve been so focused on staying upright and not embarrassing the hell out of himself that he hadn’t registered the extent of his pain until he was lying back down. The orderly made sure to push his morphine drip before he made some notes—probably of Duke’s progress—on the computer. He shut everything down and told Duke that another guy would be there in the morning.
“Get some rest, buddy. I see Vaughan has called about ten times. Let me give him an update and I’ll come back tonight for a bit. I think Judge said he’d be in tomorrow, he’s busy as shit in the office trying to keep up with the new contracts.”
Duke liked the sound of that. His businesses was still thriving. Thank the lord he wouldn’t be in the poor house after all was said and done. “No problem,” Duke forced through gritted teeth. He thought about Vaughan, liking that he’d been calling and checking on him. He wanted to send a message but didn’t want to make Quick uncomfortable. So he used a generic, “Tell him I look forward to talking to him soon.”
“I will, man. Get some rest,” Quick said, and left him alone. Although it was only a little after five, Duke knew he was ready to go to sleep—probably for the night.
“Dad, how is he? Is he in a lot of pain? Did he ask about me?” Vaughan fired off the questions as soon as his father entered his room. Dr. Chauncey had already told him how everything went and that Duke was doing well after post-op. That was after Vaughan got his own glowing report. He had tenderness in his abdomen but nothing too terrible. He had hurt worse when he was bumped by a drunk cab driver in Paris. The driver hadn’t been going that fast, but Vaughan still was hit hard enough to roll up on the hood before crashing back down onto the asphalt, breaking his clavicle.
Quick put up his hands, stopping Vaughan’s string of questions. His father leaned down and pecked him on the forehead before asking, “How are you doing, son?”
“I’m fine. I just walked down the waiting room and back a little while ago. Dr. Chauncey said Duke was up too. How’d he do with his walk? I know his ribs had to be screaming.”
His father sighed and sat down in the one chair in the room. “Yeah, he was hurting, but you know Duke. He’s built Ford tough. He kept going until he looked pale as a ghost and about to pass out before I demanded that it was enough. He’s a stubborn jackass is what he is. He’d probably have walked home if it meant getting closer to you.”
Vaughan’s eyes widened. It was the first time his dad had referenced Duke’s feelings for him and he jumped on it. Sitting up a little too quickly had him wincing, but he wanted to know. “Did you and he talk about me? What did he say?”
Quick rolled his eyes, pulling out a folded newspaper from in his jacket, an amusing glint in his eye as he unfolded and started to read it, completely ignoring his son. Quick crossed his booted foot over his knee and whistled tunelessly, like he hadn’t a care.
“Dad, come on,” Vaughan practically whined. He knew he sounded like a moody child but he didn’t care. Duke had talked to his father about him and he wanted… no he needed to know… what he’d said.
“What?” Quick feigned ignorance.
“Oh, forget it. I’ll find out myself.” Vaughan eased back down to a comfortable position and picked up his cell phone, but a big hand stopped him from dialing.
“Okay, okay. Just hang up. Duke is asleep anyway.” Quick rubbed his temples and dropped his paper on the small table next to his chair. “He’s head over heels, son.”
Vaughan’s smile was bright enough to keep his room lit if the power went out. “Seriously,” he whispered.
“He’s been my friend for a long time. I know him. He’s in love, or maybe smitten to death.”
“Smitten?” Vaughan frowned.
Quick waved his hand. “You know what I mean. I don’t know what the term is these days when you’re hot for someone, okay.” He sighed, looking up at his son. “Duke had it bad for Judge, but the way he looks when he’s talking about you… I never saw it when he talked about Judge. I think he was looking for companionship with Judge, knowing he wouldn’t get the flower, dinners, and love thing from him. He was willing to accept that because he didn’t want to live a lonely life, ya know. Judge was there and was comfortable, but long-term he wasn’t able to give Duke what he wanted.”
