“And you want me to stay in your house with you and Ivy?” Will asks, pushing his luck.
“I don’t think so,” Eric says smugly. “I’ll set you up with a cot and a kerosene heater in the woodshed out back. If you need to shower, you can use the facilities at the garden center.”
“Are you serious?” Will asks, his excitement over Eric’s offer clearly ebbing.
“There’s nothing wrong with roughing it, Will, especially when you don’t have anywhere else to go. Besides, when you’re not working on the screenplay, I could use an extra hand around the garden center. The Christmas tree season can get pretty hectic. You look like a guy who likes to work with his hands.” Eric must be enjoying this because he starts to chuckle.
“You think you’re so funny, don’t you, Young? Well, let me tell you something. This screenplay isn’t going to be about Cassidy’s heroic battle against cancer or your gag-inducing love story.” Will is working himself up into full rant mode.
I have to stop him. Drawing on what little energy I can muster, I open my parched lips and try to moan, even though it comes out more like a croak.
The distraction works because Eric’s attention immediately shifts to me. “Ivy, are you okay? Are you trying to say something? Do you need me to get the nurse?”
He bombards me with questions, but I don’t have the strength to answer them. Damn these sedatives. That last surge of adrenaline left me with nothing. I feel myself slipping away again. Oh no, please no. I have to make sure Will doesn’t say anything about Cassidy. I can’t fall asleep—not now.
The last thing I hear before I lose consciousness is Will muttering something about perfect timing and then I black out.
Today’s the day Ivy gets to leave the hospital.
I smile with relief as the doctor signs off on her release, leaving us alone in the room. Will brought her suitcase over from the hotel, so I rummage through it, trying to find something warm enough for her to wear. My dad said the temperature is in the forties back home. I don’t want her to be shivering when she gets off the plane.
“What are you doing?” she asks, eyeing me from across the room.
Even after repeated assurances that she is well enough to travel, she still looks frail to me with her hospital gown hanging loosely over one shoulder. She’s lost weight at a time when she should be gaining it. Her hair is pulled back in a lopsided ponytail, thanks to my handiwork, and her freshly scrubbed face looks pale and tired. She’s lost that healthy glow that’s surrounded her since she learned that she was pregnant. Now she seems worn out and scared. I hate how Lauren took that away from her. She transformed the joy Ivy felt for the child growing inside of her and twisted it into something to worry about and fear.
“Making sure you fly home in style,” I joke, holding up a pink hoodie and her favorite pair of jeans. “How about these?”
“Frumpy, wrinkled, and disheveled—just the look I’m striving for,” she groans, her voice still a bit raspy and hoarse.
“I think warm and comfortable is more like it.” I place them on the side of the bed and help her sit up.
The straps of the hospital gown are undone in the back, exposing the ridges of her spine. I hold my breath, trying not to notice how thin she is. After three days of a strictly intravenous diet, she can definitely use some meat on her bones. I’ve never seen her this skinny, and I don’t like it. I wish the doctor would allow her some extra time in the hospital in order to regain her strength, but there’s nothing more she can do. The vitals for Ivy and the baby have returned to normal. Apparently there’s no reason to keep them here, even if I disagree.
I debated whether or not to extend Ivy’s stay at the hotel until she was back on her feet. A cross-country flight isn’t exactly the best thing for her right now, but she insisted that she wanted to go home. She promised to sleep on the plane and allow me to get a wheelchair for her at the airport. She’d rather recuperate in our bed with Shep at her side, not tossing and turning in some strange hotel room when she’d feel more comfortable at home.
But I have a sneaking suspicion she’s been listening to the conversations I’ve been having with my dad, pretending to be asleep. She knows how hard it is to run a business on the other side of the country and that I need to get back to the garden center. Things are piling up that require my attention. Checks need to be signed. Bills need to be paid. Deliveries need to be sorted. Stuff I can’t do via email or over the phone.
But I couldn’t care less about any of it. She’s my main concern. Her health and that of our baby are my top priorities. Nothing comes before them—nothing. Everything else can wait.
I slide the hospital gown off of her shoulders and she trembles.
“Are you cold?” I ask, worried. “Quick, put this on.” I slip her arms into the sleeves of the hoodie before moving around the bed to zip it up. I try not to look at her erect nipples as my fingers move up the track from her waist to her chin. It seems like forever since I’ve seen her naked, and I try to ignore the fact that having my hands so close to her bare skin has me straining against my jeans.
“Eric, you forgot my bra,” she teases, sliding her hand on top of mine.
“You’ll be more comfortable without it.” I’m being totally serious. It’s going to be a long flight and she’ll feel better without having an underwire digging in to her.
“Oh, so you’d rather leave it in my suitcase than try and take it off in the airplane restroom?” She gives me an impish grin, unfastening the top button of my shirt. But this isn’t the time or the place to fool around. She’s still wearing a hospital bracelet around her wrist for crying out loud. Her body isn’t ready for me yet. I need to get her home and fatten her up before I allow myself to take her again. She’s going to have to wait whether she likes it or not.
“Forget it, Ivy. We’re not joining the Mile High Club anytime soon. I just want to get you home in one piece.” I brush my lips lightly against hers to help soften the blow. I never thought in my wildest dreams I’d have to reject her advances, but it’s for her own good.
Yet she’s not going to give up without a fight as she grabs the back of my neck, pulling me in as she deepens our kiss. I resist, trying to keep my mouth closed as she plays with my bottom lip with her tongue. Not getting anywhere, she wraps her legs around my waist, but I break away.
“Ivy, stop. You heard what the doctor said. We can’t do this right now.” I disentangle her ankles from behind my back. She’s wide open before me and I try not to look. Instead, I place the hospital gown over her lap to cover her. “C’mon, I have to finish getting you dressed.”
“So we’re really not going to have sex until the baby is born?” She pouts, blowing the doctor’s recommendation way out of proportion.
I slide one foot into her underwear and then the other before glancing up at her. “You know that’s not what the doctor said.” I gather Ivy into my arms, gently placing her feet on the floor as I pull the elastic waistband over her hips, letting my fingers linger there.
“Well, she might as well have,” Ivy grumbles as I grab hold of her waist to position her back on the bed.
“She said we had to wait a week to make sure that the bleeding has stopped. That’s all.” I comfort her before rolling up the leg of her jeans. “There’s a lot I can do to you in the meantime. You just have to be patient.”
“Patient? I haven’t touched you in days. How much longer do you expect me to wait?” Her bloodshot eyes are lined with dark circles. She’s been through hell since she left my side. I don’t want to deny her, especially when she’s not feeling well. Maybe I can give her a little concession to tide her over.
“Be a good girl and help me get your jeans on and then we’ll do…something,” I whisper huskily against her ear.
She gives me a radiant smile and flings her arms around my neck as I help her stand. Bending down, I slip my fingers through the belt loops of her jeans and yank them over her bottom. Deftly, I make quick work of the button fly before meeting her eyes.
“We have to do this fast,” I warn before sliding my hands over her ass. “And I want you sitting down. There’s no need to overexert yourself.” Lifting her up, she grabs fistfuls of my shirt as I set her on the edge of the bed.
Stepping away from her, I reach for my belt, swiftly unbuckling it. I can’t afford to have anyone walk in. Holding up a finger for her to wait, I march toward the door and lock it. At least it’ll buy us a couple of valuable seconds if someone knocks. I don’t even know how I’d begin to explain what we’re doing if someone walks in except to admit that I’m a whipped man. It’s impossible for me to say no to this woman, but I don’t think anyone else would buy my feeble excuse.
“Remember, this isn’t what you think it is.” I don’t want to encourage her as I return to stand in front of the bed, quickly lowering my zipper and moving the flap of my boxers to the side. I instantly spring forth and she reaches out to grab me. “Fuck,” I mutter, biting my lip as she squeezes her hand up and down my length.
“Does that feel good, baby?” she whispers suggestively as I grip the sides of the bed and my knees start to weaken.
The last thing I intended was for her to give me a hand job from her hospital bed. My breathing gets erratic as I try to pry her fingers off me. “Ivy, it feels amazing, but we can’t…” I jerk as she pushes my wrist away, fighting to remain in control.
“Eric, let me take care of you. You’re so close.” She increases her motion, knowing exactly how I like it.
“Ivy, please…” I pant in desperation. “I’m going to come all over you. You have to stop…”
Sighing, she lets go and I somehow stumble into the bathroom. All it takes is a few more tugs and I’m there. My heart skips a beat when I hear someone banging outside the room. Getting to her feet, Ivy quickly shuts the bathroom door before peering out into the hallway.
“It’s just Will,” she calls out, and I hear the rise and fall of their voices as I try to pull myself together.
That could’ve been a freaking disaster. I don’t like refusing Ivy anything, especially when it comes to sex, but we can’t keep on being so reckless. It’s too risky. My face reddens in embarrassment as I look at myself in the mirror. I can’t get caught with pants around my ankles just because Ivy wants them off. I have to learn how to put my foot down.
I turn off the water in the sink, blotting my hands with a paper towel. The orange liquid soap in the dispenser is industrial strength. I use it to wipe off the toilet seat as best I can. I’d be mortified if a maintenance worker had to clean up my mess. It’s a hospital room, not a sperm bank.
Ivy sounds distraught as she talks to Will, but I can’t make out what they are saying. I wait for the toilet to flush before heading back out. My pregnant girlfriend just jerked me off. I need to get my shit together before I can face anybody, let alone Will. I don’t need his disapproval on top of everything else. At least my heart is pounding like a jackhammer and not Ivy’s. She has to stay away from strenuous activity.
But damn, I feel better. I’m not as tightly wound. This is sure to be one heck of a day, and Ivy helped alleviate some of the tension. I must be a complete asshole for letting her do it, but it did help. Somehow she’s always aware of what I need, and I can’t help but smile at how well she knows me.
Will greets me the minute I step into the room. “Uh huh, so that’s why the door was locked. Wipe the grin off your face, you cheeky bastard.”
“Why don’t you mind your own business, dipwad,” I retort, unsure of how to act around him. Ivy told me Lauren outed him as gay or bi or something. All I know is that he likes to have sex with dudes. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it puts my dealings with him on a whole other level. I don’t know too many gay guys, and I can honestly say I’ve never lived with one before. Our impending housing arrangement suddenly morphed into some kind of social experiment I wasn’t anticipating. I don’t know if he’s attracted to me or to Ivy or to both of us. Whatever the answer, he better keep his hands to himself.
“Will got the wheelchair from the orderly, so my chariot awaits,” Ivy says, trying to smooth the awkwardness between us.
One look at me and Will knows that I know, which is going to make him snarkier than usual. He’s looking at me warily, unsure of my reaction. It’s going to be an uncomfortable situation if we keep skirting around the issue. I should probably bring it up and get it over with.
“Listen, Will. I know you mentioned you were living with Warren, and now I know why. So let’s just leave it at that, all right?” I shrug, not knowing what else to say.
“Don’t worry. Landscaping Lotharios aren’t my type,” he says with a smirk. “Sure, a muscle-bound guy like you has his charms, but I’m more attracted to a man whose fashion sense extends beyond plaid shirts and cargo boots. A hefty bank account doesn’t hurt either.”
“What he’s trying to say is that he likes guys who can afford to wear silk scarves,” Ivy whispers loudly. She chuckles, wobbling toward the wheelchair, unsteady on her feet.
“Will, help her! C’mon, man! You’re standing right there,” I scold him as I rush across the room. Luckily Will steadies Ivy, tucking his arm under hers before settling her into the wheelchair. “Will, if this is going to work, you’re going to have to be there for Ivy a hundred percent.”
“Yes, Dad,” Will responds, rolling his eyes at me.
“Don’t even get me started about leaving her at the airport for two hours and—” I’m ready to tear into him but Ivy reaches out and touches my knee, rendering me speechless.
“You two are going to have to get along or at least try and make the effort,” she says, looking up at us. “It’s not good for the baby if I hear you fighting all the time.” She rests her hands on her stomach as Will and I reluctantly nod in agreement, calling a momentary truce, at least until she’s out of earshot.
“I’ll give you two a minute and go down and hail a cab,” Will states bluntly, reaching for the handle of Ivy’s suitcase and dragging it out the door.
“Okay, what’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, peering into Ivy’s eyes as she watches Will stride toward the elevator. When she doesn’t meet my gaze, I know something’s up, the tension already reentering my body.
“Nothing. I’m just worried about the baby. That’s all.” She brushes it off, and I can tell she’s not being entirely honest with me. There’s something else.
“Do you want me to call the doctor back in here? Do you have any more questions before we leave?” I stall, waiting to see if Ivy will tell me what’s bothering her or if I’m going to have to dig deeper.
“No, it’s okay. All of the tests came back normal, but it still freaks me out that if there is a next time we might not be so lucky. You’re right, Eric. I really have to concentrate on lowering my stress level.” She’s saying a lot more with her eyes than with her words. “Let’s just worry about getting home before we add anything else to our plate.”
“Am I right in thinking it has to do with what you and Will were arguing about when I was in the bathroom?” I ask, daring her to lie to me.
Ivy pauses for what seems like an eternity before looking me straight in the eye. “Yes.”
I exhale loudly, grateful that she’s not shutting me out.
“But now’s not a good time. We’ll talk about it later, okay?” she begs, encouraging me to accept the compromise even though I don’t like being kept in the dark, especially if Will knows about something potentially dangerous and I don’t.
“I’m not going to like it, am I?” I question her one step further, seeing if she’ll relent.
“No.” She shakes her head, and it’s the only answer she gives me.
“You know I don’t like secrets, Ivy.” I aim the wheelchair through the door, rolling her past the nurses’ station. “I almost let them rip us apart before when I didn’t trust you enough to tell you what really happened in Lauren’s office. I don’t want anything like that to come between us again.”