The doctor rushed off while the nurse tucked a blanket around her. “Now, do you want help getting out from under her?” she asked gently, trying not to laugh.
Bailey moved slightly, and I instantly gripped her right arm when she tried to shift it. “Maybe I should stay here a bit,” I whispered.
The nurse nodded. “Poor little dear. If you’re comfortable and don’t mind staying for a while, she could likely use a solid nap with you holding her steady. Hit the buzzer behind you if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” I breathed.
As soon as we were alone, my grip around her arm, resting one hand on her stomach, felt like it turned from restraint to snuggling even though I didn’t move a muscle. I couldn’t help it. Having a girl this beautiful in my arms made my protective and romantic instincts go into overdrive. If holding her and being still so that she could rest safely would help her to heal, I had all night.
About an hour later, I was nearly dozing off when I heard a tiny gasp.
“Shh, Bailey, you’re okay,” I whispered.
She craned her head to look up at me then smiled, her soft eyes turning my insides to pie filling. “Oh. Hi,” she whispered. Then she rubbed her cheek against my chest. “Your skin is so nice and warm,” she murmured. “Cuddly tough guy.”
“Yeah, I’m just an oversized teddy bear,” I said gently.
“You’re a nice man. I didn’t quite believe there were any. But here you are,” Bailey whispered. She shifted her shoulder, her lips against the center of my chest, then she kissed my skin. Her eyelashes fluttered, then she did it again, holding her lips against my flesh for several seconds. “Mmm,” she sighed, her breathing becoming deep and soft again.
My lips brushed against the top of her hair, unable to resist kissing her back in some tiny way.
CHAPTER FOUR
“Good morning, honey. How are you feeling today?” A soft Jamaican accent made my eyelids flutter open reluctantly. Warm brown eyes were smiling down at me with a motherly keen gaze, analyzing my reactions.
I sat up a bit more, feeling oddly refreshed, even though there was an IV running to my right arm, but the entire area was covered with a lightly taped down cloth so that I couldn’t see the needle. Maybe I wouldn’t really feel it as long as I never moved.
I turned more toward the nurse to avoid looking at the area at all. Her purple scrubs were somehow more comforting than the green ones. “Okay, I think. Did I sleep long?”
“You slept deeply,” she laughed. “When I came on shift you looked so comfortable I wondered why you were here at all. I’ve only seen babies sleep that well in someone’s arms.”
I tried to chuckle, but something was shuffling around the back of my mind. Thick arms rocking me. A solid heartbeat under my ear. Humming. Daniel.
I was hit with waves of terror and lust and comfort and anxiety all at once. He took care of me. He held my hand in the ambulance and told me that sweet potato and caramel really would taste great together in a muffin. I didn’t remember anything else very clearly.
“The man who brought me in... Did he stay here for a while?” I asked.
She pursed her lips, trying not to grin but failing. “Honey, apparently he held you still for hours. Not sure how he fit you both onto that little cot, but he managed. I told him you were in good hands with us, but I guess you liked his hands better.” Her saucy wink spoke volumes about what she assumed was going on. “Every time he tried to get up, you’d snuggle into his chest harder.”
Oh my god, that huge muscular chest, so warm under my cheek. “Wait – he stayed all night?”
“Yes, darlin’. With those big arms around you so that you couldn’t move and pull out your IV. The other nurse said something about you passing out at the thought of getting stitches, so he held you still while they worked on you. Then he couldn’t bear to leave you. He only managed to escape a few hours ago.”
Risking my lurching stomach, I looked down at my left arm, which was thankfully covered in a large, plain bandage. I also saw that I was wearing a hospital gown, but thankfully had underwear and a thin tank top underneath.
“Yes, that’s fifteen stitches right there,” she said. “You’re lucky it was Doctor Clements, who always does the tidiest work. You’ll barely have a scar by next year. But you did lose some blood, so they kept you here for observation, and to run that IV just in case. I’ll send someone in with juice, then if you keep something solid down, they’ll let you go. Okay?”
“Yes, thank you.”
I felt hollow and floaty, completely relaxed and tense at the same time. My back remembered the feeling of Daniel’s body. My shoulders could faintly recall his hands on my upper arms. He hummed to me, soothed me.
A huge, tough cop crawling into bed with me and rocking me like a baby made no sense at all. Yet I felt treasured. Safe. Even as I nibbled a muffin, ignoring the protests of my off-kilter stomach and twinges in my left arm as I moved it carefully. There was no way I could move my right with a needle still in it.
A different doctor checked me over quickly, pronouncing me fit to leave but under orders to take it easy for several days. As much as that was good news, it also meant that the nurse would be coming back to remove the IV shortly.
I didn’t want to be a baby about this. I was a strong, independent woman who was in control of her body. Taking a needle out was something that truly sick people had to deal with all the time.
The kind Jamaican nurse returned, with Daniel at her heels. “I may have accidentally called your friend to hold your hand for a moment,” she said, positively beaming at me. “This will only take a second, honey, but I don’t want you passing out on me now.”