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Jensen and Jason both spoke at once. They stopped, and finally, Jason continued. “You’re in the hospital, Emma. You’ve got a concussion. That’s why your head hurts. Last night, after we got back from the movies, a man came into your shop and tried to rob you. The guy was strung out on drugs and looking for money for a fix. I restrained him, but somehow he got a leg free and managed to knock you down. Something I will forever regret.”
She opened her eyes to see Jason’s apology shining in his beautiful eyes. It was starting to come back to her, little fragmented pieces at a time. She remembered Jason kissing her, as well as her decision to tell him how she truly felt about him. “Oh God, Jason. He had a gun.” She looked now, really looked, and saw that he was unharmed.
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m okay. He didn’t get a chance to use it.”
Jensen spoke up. “Yeah, Jason’s got a tough hide anyway. A bullet would probably bounce right off him.”
Jason saw the pain behind his brother’s eyes. He wasn’t fooling anyone with the sarcastic remark. “It all turned out fine, brother,” Jason reassured him. He turned his attention back to Emma and frowned when he saw the bruise on her cheek. “We’ve been so worried about you. When you cracked your head, you were knocked out cold. You’ve been unconscious for almost twenty-four hours straight.”
“There was some swelling around the brain that the doctor was a little concerned about,” Jensen added. “But you waking up and even remembering some things is a good sign, I’d say.”
Jensen reached over the railing of the bed and buzzed for a nurse. When she spoke, he told her that Emma was awake and to inform the doctor immediately.
She took Jason’s hand in her own and squeezed. “I’m okay. Stop looking so worried. It’s freaking me out.”
He closed his eyes with the emotional strain of it all, thinking how close he’d come to losing her. When he opened them again, he leaned down and whispered, “You scared the shit out of me, woman.”
The doctor came into the room with a nurse in tow, disrupting the moment. As he ordered tests and scans to be scheduled, he also informed her of the dangers of concussions, brain damage, coma, and so on. Lastly, he took her blood pressure and ordered a prescription for the throbbing pain behind her eyes. He asked everyone to please leave so that his patient could get some recuperative rest.
Jason stood, arms crossed, all but daring the doctor to attempt removing him from Emma’s bedside. The doctor only heaved a sigh, accepting the inevitable, and left the room.
Jensen complied with the doctor’s wishes, saying he needed to let Marquetta know of Emma’s progress. “She’s been worried sick about you.”
“Thank you for coming.” She choked back a sob. “And…everything.”
“No problem,” he replied as he bent down and gave her a peck on the cheek. He left, promising to come back in the morning with Marquetta.
When Emma was finally alone with Jason, an overwhelming need to be held surfaced. She reached out to him, and he took her into his arms. He sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over her, needing to feel her heartbeat against his chest, assuring him that she was safe. He felt her body convulse with tears, aftershocks of trauma, he knew, but still it made him want to kill the bastard for putting her through it. He did the only thing he could do; he held her in his arms and let her tears flow. When she quieted, he leaned back and stared into her red-rimmed eyes. He wiped the remaining tears away himself.
“I just can’t believe all this. When I think of all the times I’ve been alone at the shop—anything could have happened, for God’s sake.” Her mind raced as she thought of the various times she’d been there after dark with the door unlocked. “God, I was a sitting duck.”
Jason’s gaze turned angry. “Don’t think for a minute you are at fault in any way, Emma. He’s a druggie, period.”
She stared at Jason, knowing the truth of his words, and her mind shifted gears. Seeing him rush to her protection, knowing how much he must care for her, prompted her to tell him what was foremost in her mind. Her eyelids drooped. The painkillers the doctor had given her threatened to pull her into dreamland, but before they did, she whispered, “I love you, Jason.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him. “You don’t have to say anything. I know we both started this relationship out of…out of mutual desire, so I don’t expect more than that from you.” She lowered her head and quietly finished, “I just don’t want to go another second without telling you how I feel, that’s all
.” Then she lay back in the bed and closed her eyes. Within seconds, she was asleep.
Jason’s heart nearly stopped when he heard Emma hoarsely declare her love. He just sat, watching her sleep, thinking over her words. He hadn’t realized, until she’d spoken them, how badly he needed to hear them. After a short time, he got up and left the room. He had a few things to do.
Sometime later, Emma awoke. She knew without looking that Jason was gone. She was alone in the cold hospital room, and she had no idea if he’d ever be back, if she’d ever see him again, or if her words meant anything to him at all. She looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was eleven in the morning; she’d slept the night away. Her head felt better. She wasn’t as groggy either. She used the button on the bed to put herself in a sitting position. That was when she saw them. Flowers, balloons, get-well wishes—they were everywhere. She smiled and knew that Marquetta and AJ must have been somehow behind the gesture of love. Emma moved her neck from side to side, and when there was no pain, she started thinking maybe she could try getting to her feet. She felt silly being in the hospital just because she’d hit her head. How wimpy was that?
She moved her IV out of the way and lowered the bedrail. Tossing the covers aside, Emma gently turned her body and touched her feet to the cold hospital floor. When she tried standing, a shaft of pain shot through her head. “Ouch,” she groaned and closed her eyes.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Her gaze shot wide at the annoyed tone. Jason scowled down at her. She thought of the words she’d given him, the three little words that meant more to her than anything, and she snapped, “I’m getting up, what does it look like I’m doing?”
“Get your butt back in that bed,” he bit out.
“No,” she shot right back.
“You will get back in that bed, now.”
Because her head hurt too bad to fight with him, she did get back into the bed, but not before saying, “Only because I don’t feel like arguing with you.”
Jason helped her, fluffing her pillow and covering her back up. Once she was comfortable again, he asked, “Now what made you think to do something so foolish?”
She turned her head away and mumbled, “I feel silly lying here like this.”
