Serendipity (Bayou Magic 3)

I pace the waiting room.

Daphne calls her sisters.

Finally, close to an hour after we arrive, we’re shown back to Oliver’s room.

He’s in a hospital gown with an IV in his arm, wires attached to his chest, and oxygen in his nose. The strong man I’ve known for all my life looks small and sick in that bed.

And everything in me goes stone-cold with fear.

“It looks worse than it is,” Miss Annabelle is quick to say as she reaches for my hand. “They’re running a few tests, but the doctor thinks he’s just dehydrated and exhausted. Oliver’s been working quite a lot and stays up late to read and research so he can try to help you two. He’s worried.”

“Lots of visitors.”

We turn at the sound of the doctor’s voice. She opens her laptop and smiles at all of us.

“I’m glad you brought Mr. Oliver in to see us today.” She turns to the patient. “The blood tests show a little inflammation in your body. You’re certainly dehydrated, which is dangerous by itself. I don’t like the shallow breathing, but according to the chest x-ray, you don’t have any pneumonia, so that’s a good sign.”

“Can I go home now?” Oliver asks.

“No way, José,” the doctor says with a grin. “You’re going to hang out here for a day or two so I can keep an eye on you. We’ll keep pumping some fluids into you, get you to eat some of our delicious food, and get your strength up.”

“I can do that at home.”

“Not yet,” the doctor says, just as stubborn as Oliver. “Don’t worry, it’s not so bad. Miss Annabelle can stay with you as long as she likes. We’ll just get you up to a regular room and get you all settled in.”

I shake my head when it looks as if Oliver might argue.

“You’re staying put,” I inform him. “If I have to stay with you and make sure you don’t do anything stupid, I will.”

Oliver doesn’t slap back at me for that, which tells me he really doesn’t feel well and is exactly where he needs to be.

“Fine.” Oliver shifts in the bed. “I’ll stay.”

“Great,” the doctor says. “I’ll be back to check on you in a while. And after they take you upstairs, I’ll look in on you up there, too.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I say to her. “I know that’s not usual.”

“I like him,” is all she says before leaving the room.

“Already charming the hospital staff,” Daphne says with a wink for Miss Annabelle. “What can we bring you?”

“Oh, I think I’m fine for now, thank you.” Miss Annabelle leaves Oliver’s side long enough to give me a big hug. “You’re a good boy.”

I laugh and kiss her cheek. “I’ve got you fooled.”

“You can’t fool me,” she says and pats my cheek. “Now, you two go back to doing whatever I interrupted. We’ll be just fine here. I have my cross-stitch, and I’ll keep my eye on this one.”

We say our goodbyes, and I promise to come back in the morning to check on things. When we’re in my car, Daphne sighs.

“You know what?” she says and glances my way. “I know it’s barely two in the afternoon, but it feels like we’ve already lived through a whole day. I want a glass of wine.”

“Your wish is my command.”

* * *

She drank the wine while I made the tacos. And then we curled up in her living room to watch an old Chevy Chase movie and eat chips and guacamole until we felt like bursting.

“Would you eat the last apple?” I ask her as the credits roll, and she stands to take our mess into the kitchen. I grab some glasses and plates and follow her.

“What?”

“If we were stuck somewhere overnight, hungry and cold, and you only had one measly apple, would you keep it for yourself or share it with me?”

She laughs and rinses a plate before stacking it in the dishwasher.

“We’re not living in Funny Farm. But, no, I wouldn’t be stingy. I would share.”

“I might not share,” I admit and then laugh when her jaw drops, and she stares at me in horror. “What? It’s just an apple.”

“Never mind, then. I’m not sharing either.” She firms her lips and shakes a glass at me. “You can just fend for yourself, Jackson Pruitt. You and your selfishness.”

I take the glass from her grasp and set it aside, then pull her against me and kiss her long and slow, just soaking her in. When I pull back to take a breath, she murmurs, “I don’t kiss men who don’t share.”

I chuckle and kiss her once more. “Okay, I’d probably share with you. If you asked nicely. Now, I promised you a bath.”

“A bubble bath,” she reminds me and lets me lead her to the bathroom. “Oh, wait. I got you something today. I almost forgot.”