Hotshot (The Bennett Brothers 1)

“Oh, Shaw.” I try to sit up, but hiss in pain when I twist the wrong way.

His face goes white as his grip tightens.

“Goddammit, stop doing that. You scared the shit out of me.” He bends and lifts me easily, being gentle as he helps me sit up. Then he moves the bed the rest of the way to sitting position.

“Sorry.” I half-laugh because he’s ridiculously overbearing,

“Don’t apologize. Stop and ask for help.”

“Tell me more about the baby.” I ignore his disapproving tone.

His mood changes instantly. “That’s part of the surprise. You’re going to meet him.”

My heart starts to race, and not in a good way. I knew this day was coming, but I’m not sure I’m ready. Even with all that’s happened, meeting his son feels like the final detail in the nightmare we’ve endured. My brain screams at me to get it together and act like an adult, but my heart bleeds with insecurities.

“Bizzy, what’s wrong. You’re pale.”

“Nothing.”

His hand moves to my head, careful of the gash on my scalp from my fall. He threads his fingers through my hair and puts his lips to mine, kissing tenderly. “You’re lying, but that’s okay because I’m not going to leave your side. We have a very importa

nt job today,” he whispers against my mouth and kisses me once more then lays my head back and steps away.

“Your mom and my mom are going to help you shower. I’ll be back shortly.”

He walks out, and a second later, Mom and Maria rush in babbling about something. It’s gibberish to me because my brain is firing all sorts of possibilities of how this could go wrong. What happens if Sasha comes around?

“Lizbeth, stop worrying. This is going to be wonderful.” Mom comes to me and starts the process of helping me out of bed. We’ve done this several times over the last twenty-four hours, so she and Maria are pros at getting me to the bathroom. The shower’s a bit trickier, but they help me undress and sit me on a stool. Mom purses her lips at all my bruising but helps lather me gently while Maria washes my hair, careful of my wound. It feels like heaven, and I hold back tears of appreciation.

When we’re done, Claire’s waiting for us in the room with fresh clothes. I don’t recognize the pajamas, and she gives me a conspiring smile.

“Nick and I took Shaw’s credit card. You now have a ton of clothes that are easy to slide on over your brace and won’t irritate your injuries.”

“You’re a godsend.” I blow her a kiss and sigh in happiness when the soft material slides down my body. It’s easily the softest cotton I’ve ever felt, and I know Shaw demanded the best.

She combs through my hair and helps me into a new robe, right as Shaw returns with a wheelchair.

“Really, Shaw, don’t you think you’re going overboard? There’s nothing wrong with my legs. I can walk.”

“I can also carry you, which I don’t mind doing. Take your pick. I have no problem traipsing through this hospital with you in my arms.” He crosses his arms and glares at me sternly.

Maria giggles while my mom snorts, apparently amused at his bossiness.

“Chair,” I mumble, sitting down in a huff.

He whisks me through the hospital, whistling and humming the whole way, without a care in the world. Meanwhile, I want to vomit. When we arrive at the NICU, it’s apparent Shaw has worked his magic. We have an entire room to ourselves that looks more like a comfortable living area than a hospital room. A woman I recognize is waiting for us. She has several specialties, including PRN work on the oncology floor a year ago. Her smile is genuine as he wheels me to a large recliner.

“What have you done?” I ask as he helps me up and sits down, positioning me in my normal spot between his legs.

“What I wanted,” is his only answer as he motions to the nurse.

I watch in awe as she lifts the baby boy out of his little dome and walks over to us.

Shaw moves his arm under my uninjured elbow, and she places the baby in our arms. My heart lurches in my throat, and I’m overcome with emotions. Tears spring to my eyes at the first glance. He’s so beautiful.

“Wow,” is all I can force out.

“He hit thirty-four weeks today and now weighs a little over five pounds,” Shaw explains over my shoulder. “As a preemie, he’s surprised us all. Besides a little jaundice, he’s progressing excellently.”