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“No. It’s in my helicopter with my pilot, Malcolm. He’s not the one who got drunk and told the bartender too much.” She rolled her eyes. “He’ll keep it safe, and when you and Cash are ready, he’ll fly us all home.”
“Us?” Shawn arched an eyebrow at her. “You arenotstaying in this hospital until Cash wakes up.”
Mercedes bristled, but smiled sweetly at him. “Then you find us a beautiful home to rent or hotel suite. We aren’t leaving the island.”
“You’ve got to start the next show on Monday.”
“Well, thank heavens it’s only Friday.” Mercedes turned from him and smiled at Brylee. “We’ll wait until they come for you and then we’ll go get you food, clothes, drinks, and toiletries so you can have what you need in that ‘hotel’ room he offered.”
“Thank you.”
Mercedes drew her close and hugged her. “You smell like cinnamon and vanilla spice. I love it.”
Tears pricked at her eyes. “How did you know I love the scent and flavor of cinnamon?”
“I smelled it on you that first day, so I sent some in the supplies midweek.”
“Thank you. Cash loved it,” she admitted, then bit at her lip.
Mercedes’ smile grew, and she hugged her tighter. “It’s all working out. You’ll see.”
The woman was a sweetheart, but Brylee had a dull pain in her chest. All she cared about right now was Cash recovering, but she feared even if he did heal, he’d try to push her away again.
How was she going to fight to stay by his side, not just now, but until the cancer took him?
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Cash wasin the most awful fog. He fought and fought to climb out of it, but his body did not respond.
Brylee.
She was all he could think about. All he wanted to see. The only person he’d ever need by his side.
Was she all right? Had help come in time? Was he dying from his gunshot wounds? What if Danny or Truman had survived and hurt her?
In the midst of this awful foggy reality, unable to move and fight and protect her, he knew. It overwhelmed him, and every cell of his body shouted the truth. Brylee was his everything. He needed her. He loved her. No matter what, he couldn’t be without her.
He had to tell her.
Somehow, he had to get out of this fog and find Brylee.
“Brylee,” he croaked. “Brylee.”
“There now. There. You’re waking up.Calmdown.” A woman’s voice but definitely not Brylee.
“Brylee.” His voice was stronger.
“Here now. Let’s give you some ice chips to help that throat.”
Cold, soft ice was placed on his tongue. He let it cool and soothe his throat, then he said louder, “Brylee.”
“Oh my. Yes, handsome. Miss Brylee has hardly left your side.” The lady had a definite island accent.
“She’s okay?” he croaked out, finally getting his eyes open. He blinked around at a bright white hospital room, a window showing a sunny day and green trees swaying in the breeze. A middle-aged nurse with dark skin, black curly hair, and a big smile stood next to his bed.
“I think the little angel wore herself out sitting by your bedside. Her bossy friends finally talked her into getting some rest.”
