“For heaven’s sake. I can walk.”
Alyssa shook her head. “Rules are rules. Have a seat, honey. You don’t want to get me in trouble, do you?”
No, she didn’t. Hunter took Joy and then her diaper bag and the shopping bag. She lowered herself into the wheelchair. Once she’d settled, Hunter handed the baby back to her. She held her hand out for the bags, but he waved her off.
“Oh, honey, don’t tell me you’re leaving our goodies behind?”
She craned her head around and looked at Alyssa. “I don’t want to double-dip. I got them the first time around.”
“Take them. The orderlies will toss whatever you leave behind. There’s even a canvas bag in the third drawer, to carry everything. Hunter, be a doll and—”
“I’m on it.” He walked across the room to the bassinet. When he bent over to dig the bag out of the lowest drawer, the sight of his jeans riding low and tight over his ridiculously toned ass almost made her lightheaded. Behind her, Alyssa mumbled something that sounded a lot like, “Lawd ’a mercy.”
“Huh?” Hunter shot the nurse a quizzical look but didn’t straighten.
“Nothing, sugar. Keep doing what you’re doing. Take your time.”
He rolled his eyes and went back to bagging the diapers, wipes, infant formula, and other freebies furnished by the hospital. She and Alyssa passed the next three minutes in reverent silence as they watched his truly mesmerizing array of muscles bunch and flex under his clothes while he completed the chore.
“Finished.” He straightened, hefted the bag to his shoulder, and turned to face them.
“Those drawers are deep. Maybe you ought to check again?” Alyssa suggested. “Just to be sure you got the job done right?”
Hunter’s slow, cocky grin launched a thousand bad ideas directly into Madison’s no-fly zone. “Ladies, I always get the job done right.”
Alyssa laughed and then proceeded to demonstrate she too was thorough, by running through all the information and instructions she’d already reviewed with Madison while she wheeled them to the main entrance.
“Now, honey, not that we didn’t enjoy having you and Joy hang out with us for a little while, but how are we going to avoid fainting again?”
“Take the iron pills every morning.”
“And?”
“Get more rest,” she added obediently, but that was easier said than done. The baby nursed every three or four hours. She tried to sneak naps when Joy slept, but she also had to shower every once in a while, clean up, do laundry, get to the store… A fog of fatigue had become her most reliable new companion over the last month.
“What else?”
“Eat.”
“Exactly. I know things get hazy when you’re caring for a little one, but keep a meal log if you need to, so you can track whether you had that apple or if you only thought about having one and then got sidetracked with a feeding, or a diaper change, or what have you. Drink plenty of water, too. I don’t want to see you back here next month, all exhausted and dehydrated, with no fuel in your tank.”
Her either. She stole a glance at Hunter to find him giving her an odd look. Part concern and part…pissed off?
Of course he’s pissed. He stopped by as a duty call and got roped into chauffeuring you across town. Before she could apologize for derailing his evening, he excused himself to get his car. After he left, she caught herself scanning the parking lot for a black Ford F-150 with a busted taillight and ordered herself to cut it out. Cody was gone—long gone—and the paranoid habit needed to go, too. Another few moments passed, and then Hunter pulled up in a forest green Chevy Tahoe. Bags went onto the floor in the back seat. He latched Joy into a car seat Madison didn’t recognize and then helped her climb in beside the baby. Finally, he got behind the wheel, started the engine, and looked at her in the rearview mirror.
“I’ve got some bad news.”
Chapter Five
The summer-storm eyes in his rearview mirror widened. “What’s wrong?”
“Your car wasn’t in the lot. The signs posted a two hour maximum, so I suspect they towed you.” He kept his voice matter-of-fact, in hopes her mind wouldn’t race ahead to the other alternative. “Want to call and find out?” He tapped the screen of his phone and handed it to her.
She worried her lip with her teeth while she waited for the call to go through and then navigated an automated system. A few seconds later her closed eyes, and a muted, “Damn,” told him they had her car. She disconnected and handed him back his phone. “It’s there. I have to call back tomorrow during business hours to speak with a human being and make arrangements to pick it up.”
He glanced at the clock on his console. “Sorry you can’t get your wheels today.”
Her utterly defeated look left him with a bad feeling. He had to ask, but he didn’t want to push her in a direction she’d be better off avoiding, like toward the MIA baby daddy. “Is there a family member or”—fuck it—“friend who can give you a ride to the tow yard tomorrow?”