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She paused in her knitting and pulled on all her techniques to stop a panic attack. Ground in the here and now. Call on your senses to help.
One step at a time. One step at a time. Step one: make a decision. You can do this. You have to do this. You’re going to have to make a million decisions once the baby is born.
The baby moved inside her, and she held her breath. It wasn’t good to get upset like this. She released her breath slowly, then drew in another, nice and steady.You okay in there, podling? Any advice for me?
And then,maybe thanks to the pep talk, or thanks to the knitting, or to the comforting presence of Moses chewing on a knot of rawhide—or to maybe some internal decision-making ability she didn’t know she had—she knew exactly what to do.
She made a list, step by step, then picked up the phone.
Twenty-Two
Granger had trouble focusing on Bliss’ plan. First of all, they were pumping morphine into his system at regular intervals. Second, it didn’t entirely work, and he was still aware of the pain deep inside his body.
“Lake Bittersweet?” he repeated dumbly.
“Yes. I rented that house that Kirk was staying in over Christmas. Remember the house with all the high-end security systems?”
He grunted. Nice house. Probably the safest house he’d ever seen. Good view of the lake.
The lake inMinnesota.
“You want to go back to Minnesota?”
“Yes. For now. While you recover and I finish gestating.”
“Gestating. That sounds like you’re sitting on eggs or something.”
“Laying an egg would be so easy compared to this.” Bliss let out a long sigh, while Granger blinked at her. She seemed different somehow. As if she’d grown up while he’d been in surgery.
Also, this conversation was confusing. “Back up. You’re going back to Lake Bittersweet to have the baby?”
“We’regoing back,” she corrected firmly. “The decision’s made. I booked a private plane that can accommodate a gurney.”
“I don’t need a fucking gurney.”
“You’re going to need a fucking gurney because we’re leaving tomorrow and you’re not supposed to walk yet. I cleared it with the doctors. I told you the decision is made.”
He wanted to protest that this was absurd, that he was a grown man in charge of his own decisions, but he was just so woozy.
“You are not the boss of me,” he said feebly.
“No, but you’re my responsibility and Bliss Gault lives up to her responsibilities. At least, now she does. We’re not delving into the past at the moment.”
Fair enough. “You’re not my…I mean, I’m not your rethponthibili…” He gestured for the water. His tongue felt like one big cotton ball.
“Yes, you are.” There was no arguing with this new Bliss. “You got hurt protecting me. Not only that, but you’re the father of my baby. Also…” She broke off before she could finish that thought, and he was too groggy to press her.
“My sis…”
“I haven’t told her what happened. I figured you’d want to do that yourself, in your own time.”
She figured right. Marqui might flip out and apply for leave or some shit like that. He didn’t need her rushing back stateside to take care of him. Not when he could take care of himself just fine. Or rather, apparently, Bliss was going to.
With the last remnants of his mental clarity, before sleep took over, he assessed her expression. Determined, he would say. Not interested in arguing. In charge.
Wait a second…that was howheusually looked. Had she stolen his facial expressions? He pointed an accusing finger at her, then watched his hand tremble and fall back to his side.
Face it. He needed someone right now, and if she wanted the job so bad, maybe she should get it.
