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She nodded, and he hopped out and opened it.
She put her hand out and he took it as she stepped out. It was automatic, another relic of their relationship. Still, though, his skin burned fire hot at her touch.
Damn, she was a powerful drug. And not only was he was addicted, he had absolutely no desire to get clean.
He slammed the car door shut and locked it, then turned and took her hand as they walked into the hospital.
She didn’t flinch or pull it away. In fact, she just gave his hand a little squeeze and then left hers there, resting warmly in his.
He hadn’t known how she would react. He’d just had an impulse and gone with it.
It hit him that maybe that was one of the problems with the way he’d always dealt with her in the past—way too much time wondering how she might react to things, and way too little time just living in the moment and following his impulses.
And, hey. If this was any indication, he had some good ones.
She did pull her hand discretely out of his just before they stepped through Serge’s hospital door, but he didn’t blame her. Why invite scrutiny? They were still figuring each other out. That didn’t take away from the three-odd minutes that he’d just gotten to hold her hand walking down these halls.
He didn’t care that no one had seen him, he’d been proud. The way he always felt when she was on his arm. The warm glow of that memory would be enough to live on for a while.
When they stepped through the hospital room door, Connor wasn’t surprised to see that Serge was already fully dressed and sitting in a wheelchair, ready to go. If Connor had just spent days in the place, he could only imagine how freaking eager he’d be to make his escape.
He looked up at them and grinned. Turning to the nurse standing a few feet away jotting notes down on a clipboard, he said, “All right, Jennifer. This here is my ride.”
The middle-aged woman turned around and her face lit up when she saw Luna. “Oh, hey, Luna! How are you?”
“Great, Mrs. Andrews. And you?”
“Oh, just fantastic. I was so glad to hear that you were back in town. Is your grandmother at home?”
“She is. She’s putting the final touches on the convalescent area she set up in the downstairs study.”
“Oh, well, that’s so nice that you both came down to pick your grandfather up.” She turned to Serge. “Now, I’m just going to go make sure your paperwork’s all in order, and then you’re free to go.”
“And not a minute too soon,” he grunted, drawing a smile from Luna.
Connor reflected on how that was small-town life for you. Even if you’d been gone for years, you could count on running into former neighbors/teachers/classmates/church congregants/co-workers/you name it. Anyone you could imagine seeing, at the places you least expected—that was a surefire place for them to show up.
He looked over at Luna. She’d never liked that part of small-town living. He thought it felt cozy and homey. It made him feel like he belonged.
She thought it felt intrusive and stalker-y, and it made her feel exposed and irritated.
Looking at her face now, though, there was none of that. Just a pure smile, with nothing behind it.
Could she be changing her views on more than just asking for help?
The nurse came back in, already giving the room a double thumbs up. “You’re good to go!” she announced in a sing-song voice. “Let’s wheel you out front.”
She pushed the wheelchair to the front lobby, then through the automatic doors to the portico.
Connor jangled his keys. “I’m going to pull the car around.”
“We’ll be waiting,” Luna replied, and brushed her fingertips over his arm as he walked away.
Fuck. Even from that light touch, his brain went haywire. He had to tell himself how to walk to keep his feet moving in the right direction, repeating the words left right left right left right to himself in his head over and over as he moved each corresponding foot.
Yeah. There was no pushing his feelings to the back of his mind, or shoving them down to keep them from developing. They had already developed. They were here.
Now all he could do was his level best to keep a good head on his shoulders so he could avoid making an idiot of himself.
It shouldn’t have been hard. It should’ve been easy, when you thought about it—just don’t behave like a damn fool. Easy!
Still. He wished that he had just a little more confidence that he’d be able to do it.
