The Off Limits Rule (It Happened in Nashville 1)

The moment I hang up, Cooper asks, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“My parents are taking Levi to the hospital. He’s having severe stomach pain. I need to go. I need to get to the hospital.” Tears are streaming down my cheeks as I numbly put my hand on the steering wheel, suddenly feeling a thousand miles away from my baby and like I won’t get there in time.

Cooper softly peels my hands from the wheel and guides my chin to look at him. “Let me drive, Lucy. Everything’s going to be okay.”

I swallow and let him help me out of the driver’s seat, then I rush around to the passenger side and get in. My hands are shaking as he starts the car, and I can’t get the buckle to snap into the buckle thing. I try to slam it in five times. Six. Seven!

“GAH! It won’t go! The freaking buckle thing won’t buckle!” I’m frantically trying to jam it in, and if I look insane, Cooper doesn’t say anything. He leans over, takes the buckle from my hand, and slowly clicks it in place before taking my hand and interlacing our fingers. His eyes lock with mine, and my chin wobbles, tears streaming down my cheeks like waterfalls.

“It’s okay. I’m going to get you to the hospital, and everything is going to be okay.” It’s a brave promise on his part, but I cling to it like I’m dangling off a cliff and those words are my only lifeline. Cooper kisses my knuckles before putting the car in drive and breaking every speed limit on the way to the hospital, and I’m more thankful now than ever that I have him. Otherwise, I would have definitely rammed into the back of the snail in front of us driving two miles an hour on the interstate.

Miraculously, Cooper doesn’t even threaten to break up with me when I roll down the window as we pass said snail and stick my head out, yelling, “The gas pedal is on the right!” I do regret flipping that lady the bird, but it was her fault for getting between a mama bear and her cub.

Whew, what a night.

Several hours after arriving at the hospital, I’m sitting beside my child, who’s hooked up to an IV and sleeping, still under the effects of anesthesia after having his appendix removed. Yep, my four-year-old had appendicitis tonight. I almost can’t believe it. For some reason, I thought that was like an old man’s disease. Turns out, it most commonly affects kids, and I HATE that my kid is one of them. But it’s over now, and he’s sleeping peacefully as I stroke his hair.

My mom has had a series of meltdowns, the poor thing. She feels so guilty for not calling me as soon as the pain started. She didn’t want to disturb me if it ended up just being gas, but then everything escalated quickly, and she realized what was going on. I’ve hugged her at least a hundred times tonight and reassured her that I won’t be taking her grandma license away, because honestly, I would have done the same thing in her shoes. Kids have five thousand aches and pains a day. It’s hard to know when things are serious or not, so I don’t fault her for waiting to call me. I’m just thankful we were here in Nashville and around my family when this happened.

Beyond the obvious reasons—like the man walking into the hospital room right now with a gigantic coffee for me—I’m glad I came home. Not everyone has the ability to live near their family in a healthy way, and I feel beyond thankful that I do. This is where I belong. Making it on my own is overrated when I have a family like mine.

Speaking of…

“Have you heard from Drew yet?” I ask, looking up and taking the Styrofoam cup from Cooper.

He shakes his head. “Not yet, but your mom is still trying him.”

I can’t believe Drew isn’t here for this. It makes me so angry I want to stomp the ground, Hulk style. He can throw a tantrum about Cooper and me all he wants, but to make Levi pay for it is inexcusable. If he ever shows up, I will wait until he has hugged and kissed his nephew (and hopefully showered him with lots of amazing gifts) and then I will MURDER my brother.

“You have crazy eyes right now,” Cooper says, retaking the seat he’s been occupying beside me all night. He wraps his hand around mine, and I feel my blood pressure lower to less of a cardiac arrest zone.

I look at my little boy sleeping peacefully in the hospital bed, and my heart squeezes. “I’m so angry at Drew. He should be here.”

Cooper squeezes my hand then drops it so he can scoop my feet up into his lap and rub them. “Don’t worry about Drew right now. Levi’s safe and taken care of, and that’s all that matters. I’ll kick Drew’s butt later.”

I turn my eyes to Cooper and his handsome disheveled hair, his big calloused hands tenderly massaging the arches of my feet. The immature part of me wants to stick my tongue out at Drew and say TOLD YOU WE’RE GOOD TOGETHER, but the other part of me doesn’t give a crap what Drew thinks, because I’m so happy I could burst.

Cooper’s long lashes fan out as he stares at my feet, his movements pausing and his broad chest expanding with a deep breath like he’s taking his first relaxed inhalation of the night. Which he probably is…because Cooper has been my rock tonight. He got me to the hospital, made sure everyone had everything they needed, ran home to pack me an extra set of clothes when we found out Levi would be going into surgery, and held me in the waiting room while fear of the worst gripped me and I cried. He called Jessie and told her everything while asking her to cancel all my appointments for the week. He’s been busy, and I’m just realizing that not once tonight did I feel that familiar ache of wishing someone was with me to help carry the load.

There he is, my very own pack mule. Okay, admittedly, that’s not the most flattering comparison, so I decide to keep it to myself. Instead, I trace a line with my eyes down the slope of his nose, over the silhouette of his pillow-soft lips, and across the scruff of his strong jaw. He doesn’t have to be here, but he is.

Cooper’s head swivels to me, catching me red-handed as I stare at him like a piece of meat I’m weighing at the market. Busted. He gives me his signature smirk, the one that makes women everywhere swoon, needing resuscitation when they see it. The one with the boy-next-door dimple in the corner and bad-boy eyes that make you want to run home and break up with your oh-so-average boyfriend.

“What are you thinking about right now?”

“If I have a Sharpie in my purse so I can write my name across your forehead.”

He grunts a laugh and continues rubbing my feet. “You’re insane.”

I scoff. “Puh-lease. Don’t think I’ve been too consumed by my worry to not notice the way Nurse Jessica keeps giving you bedroom eyes.”

“Bedroom eyes?” he asks with a confused lifted brow.

“Yeah, you know? These.” I slightly curve my lips and lift my brows, tilting my head softly. I hold the pose for way too long, waiting for him to recognize the look, until I realize his mouth is twitching and he’s trying to hold back a smile. UGH. I’m so gullible. Of course he knows what bedroom eyes are.

I release my incredible expression and punch his arm. “You do know what bedroom eyes are!”

He jerks his arm up to his chest to defend himself against my attacks. “Yes, but I wanted to see your