Read The Wicked Bad (Crimson Romance) Online

Authors: Karyn Gerrard

Tags: #romance, #spicy

The Wicked Bad (Crimson Romance) (19 page)

No, she wanted Nick with her. Veronica wanted to care for him, hold him close in her arms every night and feel his warmth, his masculinity. She’d almost lost him. That she could not bear. She just had her weekly phone call to her mother last night. She told her about Nick, that she had fallen in love with him. Telling her made the feelings real and potent. But this incident? It cemented her emotions permanently. Yes, she loved him and she did not want to lose him, ever.

The bell over the door rang and brought her thoughts back to the task at hand. Julie had arrived for her shift.

Julie stuffed her purse under the counter. “Any word on Nick?”

“Yes, he’s awake and he’s eating. He can have visitors this afternoon.”

Julie patted her back. “Well, that all sounds good! You go, don’t worry about a thing. I can hold the fort here no problem.”

The bell over the door tinkled again, and Lorcan Byrne strode into the bakery. Julie immediately stiffened, her face drained of all color. After that double date at the pub as they both drowned their sorrows in white wine and peanut butter cookies, Julie confided she knew the reason she acted the way she did in Lorcan’s presence. His handsome visage brought up so many damned, cruel memories which made no sense as none of those hurtful, humiliating memories were Lorcan Byrne’s fault. Julie whispered that when he fixed her with that deep, penetrating gaze she felt he’d seen clear inside to the fat, lonely girl she used to be.

“I have to go out back, check on something,” Julie mumbled.

Lorcan shook his head as she hurried out of the room.

“I must have the plague,” he murmured.

Veronica didn’t know what to say. If ever there were two people at cross purposes. She couldn’t think about that now, her mind remained firmly fixed on Nick. She ducked out back to grab her purse. Julie leaned against the baking table. Veronica laid a hand on her shoulder.

“We’re leaving now. You’ll be okay to handle things?”

Julie’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Yes, I’m okay.”

Veronica didn’t have the time to talk this out. She kissed Julie’s cheek and hurried out front to go with Lorcan to the hospital.

Sitting in his Navigator, Veronica wasn’t sure if she should bring up the subject of Julie. Best not, Julie would be upset if she told this man very much. After all, he really showed no interest in her, did he? She glanced at him as he weaved in and out of traffic. He wore dark sunglasses so she couldn’t see his eyes.

“You seem used to our roads. Must be different for you, also the side the steering wheel is on.”

Lorcan smiled. “Aye, but I do have to remind myself what side of the road to be on constantly. I’m managing.”

“Are you staying, as in permanent? Do you have a green card, or do they give … .”

Veronica shouldn’t be asking these questions. None of this was her business. Since last night she found she wanted to get to know him. He was Nick’s friend and she found she wanted him to be her friend, too.

“Are you asking if they give green cards for gangsters, is that what you mean, darlin’?” Lorcan said.

“Are you a gangster?” she asked.

Lorcan shrugged. “I work for one. I run his club. I earn a fair bit of nicker … ” He turned and looked down at her over the top of his sunglasses, his aqua eyes twinkling. “That’s money, darlin’. Guilt by association I guess it’s called. Do I do more for him than that? Maybe, maybe not. I’m not lily white, but I’m not pitch black either. Does that make you tremble all over?”

Veronica crossed her arms. “I’m not some hot house flower. My brother’s a cop. I’ve heard and seen plenty here in Rockland and living in California. I’m not afraid of very much. I’m not afraid of you.”

Lorcan laughed. The lilting, musical chortle of a mordant Irishman.

“Good, darlin’. One thing you’re afraid of is something happening to Nick. I saw the look on your face at the hospital. You care very much for him.”

She couldn’t deny it, he spoke the truth. She had fallen in love with Nick, as hard as she tried to fight it. It happened so fast. He charmed her socks off and other pieces of her clothing. He was stoic, commanding, and very masculine. The man was rugged to the extreme, but inside, vulnerable and lonely and maybe even damaged emotionally. How she wanted to be the one woman to breech the chasm in his heart, heal it, hold it for her own. Claim it — her and no other. She wanted to be the only woman to caress that skin, kiss those lips, and hold him close. Let him dive deep into her very core — him and no other. Veronica didn’t want to share him with any women. He certainly made reference to his many affairs enough, yet he was not bragging, just making a statement of fact. For Nick was nothing if not honest, except about his deepest feelings and emotions. That was off limits. The protective fence remained in place for all the intimacies they’d shared. He allowed occasional glimpses though the slats. There was no two ways about it. She’d have to go first. Declare her love and damn the torpedoes.

She turned and gazed at Lorcan.

“I love him, Lorcan. Whether he wants to hear it or not, I’m going to tell him. Today.”

For all her brave talk of not being afraid, she was shaking in her leather loafers over facing Nick. How terrible were his injuries? What would be his reaction to her declaration?

Ten minutes later, they arrived at the hospital and Lorcan stayed in the waiting room. She walked through the open door of Nick’s semi-private room. A curtain had been pulled around the other bed. Low murmurs came from behind the barrier, so the person must have a visitor. Pushing her glasses up on her nose, she turned to gaze at Nick.

He sat up in bed wearing nothing but hospital sleep pants. The bandages wrapped around his chest and his left arm was clearly visible. A thick, mesh netting covered his arm as it rested on a couple of pillows. Veronica couldn’t stop a gasp of shock from leaving her lips. Nick looked like a little boy. A tray sat in front of him consisting of half-eaten toast, a small plastic bowl with the prerequisite green Jell-O, and what appeared to be watery coffee. She blinked back tears and started to feel a little angry. She could care for Nick better than this. The food wasn’t fit for a hobo.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he croaked. His voice was hoarse from the smoke inhalation.

She sat on the side of the bed and cupped his cheek gently.

“Can you talk, is it too painful?”

“I can, hand me that water, though.”

Veronica reached for the water and held the straw to his lips.

“I’ll get you fresh bottle. First Nick, are you going to be all right? You have burns? How serious are they?”

“Chest — first degree, more like singed hair.” He swallowed more water. “Arm, second degree. I didn’t go into shock so I’m here for a few days until they rule out infection.”

Veronica instinctively reached out toward the bandaged arm, but didn’t touch.

“Will there be any scarring?”

The thoughts of his glorious, golden skin being marred in anyway cut her deeply. His discomfort and pain upset her. The burns had to hurt like hell.

“Very little. I was lucky Lorcan arrived when he did.” He pushed the water away.

“Nick, you’re coming to stay with me.” She held up a hand when he started to protest. “We don’t know what condition your apartment’s in, and you need someone to assist you. I want to do it, Nick. I want to be there for you.”

Veronica leaned closer and cupped his cheeks. “Listen to me. I love you, Nick. So very much. Let me care for you — let me love you.”

She kissed him softly. Dropping her hands, she sat back and observed the confusion on his face. She had the feeling no one ever said the words to him before in his whole life. He didn’t know how to react, it was painfully obvious. She laid a finger on his lips.

“Don’t say anything, Nick. I know it’s a lot to take in. We have a lot to talk about, but not now. You’ll be coming home with me.” She stood. “I’m going to go get you a bottle of fresh water and let Lorcan come in for a minute.”

She left the room.

• • •

Nick looked off out the window. White, puffy clouds languidly rolled by. A few trees planted in the courtyard outside swayed gently in the breeze. A lone tear rolled down his cheek.

A few minutes later, Lorcan entered the room. Nick’s head was still turned toward the window deep in thought. He never heard his friend enter.

“Nick, mate.”

Nick turned to face him. He tried a brief, wane smile and motioned to the chair.

“Take a seat.”

“You’re looking better,” Lorcan said.

“Thanks to you,” Nick replied hoarsely. “I could’ve been a charcoal briquette if you hadn’t come back. For your wallet, you said. Sorry — lost in the fire. How much, I’ll pay you back.”

“Feck that, mate,” Lorcan dismissed.

“How did I get a semi-private room? I’ve no medical insurance. I should be in a ward.”

“I took care of it. No worries. Speaking of insurance, did you have any on the bar?”

Nick nodded, clearing his throat. “Yes, enough to rebuild, how — how bad is it?”

Lorcan pursed his lips. “Mostly smoke and water damage. The fire didn’t spread upstairs, though you may have smoke problems. The bar itself — sorry, mate. It’s a write off I’m guessing. The fire inspectors will let you know if the building’s still structurally sound. The fire was quickly snuffed out by the sprinklers so it might be all right. You own the building?”

Nick nodded again. “Received the building for next to nothing. The money I used as a down payment was for services rendered. You know what I’m saying?”

“Aye,” Lorcan said. “I do at that.”

“I financed the rest with a fencing operation I had going years back and a loan from a relative. I make a small profit in the bar enough to live on, not much else. I’m fucked, Lorcan. What am I going to do, bake cookies for Ronnie?” Nick started coughing.

Lorcan stood. “No more chin-wagging, mate. Look, you can work with me until you get this shite insurance muck straightened out. Hell, you can stay with me, too. I’ve lots of room.”

Nick nodded again. “Thanks, about the job. I’ll take it. Ronnie asked me to stay with her.”

“Oh, aye? Interesting development.”

Nick shrugged and glanced out the window again. His entire body was still numb, and it wasn’t the damned painkillers. Her words kept playing over and over in his head.
I am in love with you —
what was he to do with that information? Did she even mean it? After the initial shock wore off, he began to wonder. Perhaps she felt sorry for him because of his injury, the fire, and his bar. Or was he feeling sorry for himself?

No one ever said those words before. Not his parents, not his teacher-lover, or the myriad of women that followed. No one. Ever. She wanted to talk, great. He hated talking about his feelings or anyone else’s.

Ronnie had returned. She held a bottle of water. Lorcan whispered in her ear and left the room. Nick’s throat was killing him. He talked far too much and this was a perfect excuse not to talk to her about anything she declared in a moment of weakness.

“Lorcan will wait outside. The nurse at the station said I can only stay for a few more minutes. Can I get you anything, magazines? Books? Crossword Puzzles?”

He shook his head.

Ronnie opened the water bottle, stuck in a fresh straw, then sat on the edge of the bed and held it for him. He took a long drink. The water was cold and crisp. Ronnie leaned in close. He could smell the essence that was hers alone, intermixed with the enticing smell of cookie dough. He’d bet even money she stayed up all night baking.

“I meant what I said, Nick. In case you were lying here doubting my word. I love you.
Love.
You. Get used to it, because I’ll be saying it a lot.” She kissed his cheek tenderly. “Love Nick, the forever type. The share everything type. The passion type. The ‘I will look after you in sickness and health’ type. You’re coming home with me, agreed?”

What could he do but nod?

She stood and left the room.

He was alone.

Love.
A foreign state to him. Yesterday morning when she had gone home he’d felt her absence. It left a gaping wound, aching and sore. He did want her to look after him, care for him, hell — love him. His emotions all started to fall into place. After only a few weeks? Hell, why not?

The feelings filled him with trepidation. He knew nothing about the giving and taking in a relationship, not really sure he was even capable. He thought of no one but himself since he was a kid, when it was obvious back then that no one else cared. He decided at that time he would look out for
numero uno,
see to his pleasures and needs. He could be a selfish being.

These last few weeks with her, had he acted selfish? He did things for Ronnie he never dreamed he would do for a woman. Dress up as a Highlander. Cook meals. Invite her to spend the night more than once. Tell her things —
Awww, hell.

Glancing out the window again, he listened to birds chirping in the trees. Why did he cry? Okay, he didn’t blubber, but a damned tear rolled down his cheek after she left the room the first time, after she said the words. He hadn’t teared up since he was a kid. The desperation to hear the words, was he that damned grateful?

No, he had to stay resolute, firm, and guarded. He had to protect his heart. He couldn’t lose control of his emotions. He fought so hard to keep them reined in all these years.

Nick closed his eyes, he needed sleep. God, he was so damned weary.

Chapter Nineteen

Driving back toward the bakery, Veronica remained silent during the entire drive. Lorcan glanced at her.

“Well darlin’, don’t keep me hanging. Did you tell him?”

“Yes I did,” she replied softly.

“I thought as much. Never seen a man so confused and flummoxed as Nick. You rocked him, Veronica. To his core, I’ll be guessing.”

“I suppose so. It’s not going to be easy.”

Lorcan laughed. “Ah, but that is the challenge when it comes to true love. I have a romantic soul. It will all work out, believe me.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“No, not really. Maybe someday. I can hope.”

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