A Forever Kind of Guy: The Braddock Brotherhood, Book 2 (35 page)

Tim pushed his cap back on his head and gestured with his chin toward Carlos’s prone form. “This our intruder?”

Both Hayley and Ray nodded.

Tim holstered his gun. “Got an ambulance on the way.”

Both deputies kept their guns trained on Carlos while Tim bent down and felt his throat for a pulse, pronouncing him alive. His gaze took in both Hayley and Ray. “What’d you do to him?”

“Maybe broke his arm.”

“Hit him in the head with a skillet.”

Their statements were uttered in unison and Tim shook his head. “You two are quite a pair.”

Ray turned to Hayley. “So you finally figured out what that skillet is for, huh?”

She gave him a weak smile. He looked up at Fletcher, still clutching his bat, his worried gaze moving between the adults. “Hey, buddy. It’s okay.” He reached out awkwardly and patted Fletcher’s knee. “Everything’s going to be all right. Come here.” He patted the floor next to him. “You can put your bat down now.”

Fletcher loosened his grip on the bat and scooted close to Ray, but remained vigilant. “I think Fletcher got a good swing at him too,” he informed Tim. Ray winked at Fletcher. “We’ve been practicing, right, buddy?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

The EMTs arrived, and insisted along with Tim that Ray needed to be transported to the ER.

“I’ll be okay.”

“You’re such a tough guy,” Hayley murmured near his ear. Neither she nor Fletcher had left his side.

Carlos came to while Tim took their statements. He’d already been strapped onto a gurney and then handcuffed to it with little regard to his injured arm. He tried to raise himself off the gurney, his face mottled with rage, expletives spewing from his mouth.

Tim rolled his eyes. “Get him out of here,” he said to the EMTs. Then to the deputies, he said, “You guys go on to the hospital and get his statement.”

“You—” he pointed a finger at Ray, “—are one lucky S.O.B.”

Ray looked at Hayley and Fletcher. “Yeah. Lucky.” He stood up. “I need to put that door back—” He went pale beneath his tan and abruptly sat back down.

Tim rolled his eyes again. A second set of EMTs arrived. He turned back to Ray. “You go on to the hospital, let them take a look at you and stitch that up.” He glanced over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “We got a better chance of making charges stick the more evidence we have, you get what I’m saying?”

A look passed between them. Ray looked at Hayley. He nodded at Tim.

“We’ll go with you,” Hayley said.

“There’s no need. Stay here with Fletch, okay? It won’t take that long. Probably.”

“No. We’re awake anyway, and I won’t sleep until I know you’re okay. Neither will Fletcher. Right, Fletch?”

Fletcher nodded.

“Besides, that way we can bring you home when you’re done at the hospital.”

“It’ll be late.”

“We’re coming.”

Tim took in this exchange. “I’ve got an evidence tech on the way. The tech will take care of the door after he dusts for prints and photographs it as the point of entry.”

Ray asked Hayley to drive his Explorer because he didn’t relish the idea of folding himself up to get into her Mustang. She strapped Fletcher into the back seat and followed the route the ambulance took to the hospital. Once there she settled into the waiting room with Fletcher in her lap, reassuring him that it wouldn’t be long, that everything was all right.

An older woman, a hospital volunteer, brought her a Styrofoam cup of tea, insisting it would calm her. Hayley accepted it out of politeness, but her hands shook so badly she couldn’t drink it. She left it sitting in a pool of its own splatter on the Formica-topped table next to her.

She leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic chair and replayed the events of the evening.

She’d been getting ready for bed when she remembered she hadn’t set the alarm. The moment she’d left the bathroom after washing her face and brushing her teeth, there Carlos was, just outside the entrance to the hallway.

Her mind wouldn’t shut off now as she revisited every word she’d spoken, him coming toward her with that knife, Ray coming to her rescue.
Again.

Had she ever been so scared in her life? She’d escaped from Carlos because Ray distracted him, but then he’d gone after Ray and he’d drawn blood.
What ifs
raced through her thought processes now. What if the knife wound had been deeper or in a slightly different location? What if it had nicked an important artery, and Ray had bled out right there on the tile floor before the ambulance arrived.

What if Carlos had been successful in his attempt to take Fletcher?

Everything she’d hoped to avoid had happened anyway. She hadn’t been able to protect Fletcher on her own. If it weren’t for Ray, she’d probably be dead right now. And Fletcher? Who knew what Carlos would have done with him. Worst of all, she hadn’t protected Ray from Carlos. She’d allowed him to get close to her, something she never should have done.

Fletcher was half asleep straddling her lap, his head just below her chin. She kissed his hair and stroked his back while she tried to imagine what her life was going to be like without him. Once he was adopted, she’d never hold him again, never comfort him, never feel his arms tight around her neck or see him smile.

Tears welled in her eyes and she let them overflow. “Once there was a little boy,” she said softly, uncertain whether Fletcher was even still awake, “who couldn’t find his voice. But everybody loved him because he was a special little boy.”

Hayley swiped at her tears and pressed her lips to the top of Fletcher’s head. He didn’t stir. “He needed a family and he found one. One with a mommy and a daddy and a house and a big, fenced-in yard and a swingset. And a dog. Because every little boy should have a dog.” More tears fell, but Hayley went on with her story. “And then he found his voice too. Because he wasn’t afraid anymore. His new family kept him safe, and no one could hurt him ever again. He was such a brave little boy.” Hayley’s cheek pressed against the top of Fletcher’s head. “His temporary mommy missed him, though. She missed him a lot because she loved him. Even though she had to let him go.”

To distract herself from her bout of melancholy, Hayley tried to focus on the TV in the deserted waiting room. Someone had left it tuned to a baseball game. She didn’t understand baseball. Watching it bored her almost as much as watching golf tournaments. But she stared at the television, willing her mind to shut itself off until a nurse opened a door and called her back to the treatment area. She shifted Fletcher’s weight so his head was on her shoulder and followed the nurse.

In the glare of overhead fluorescent lighting, Ray looked exhausted.

“He’s got a nice bump on his head and a whole bunch of stitches in his side, but he’s going to be okay,” the nurse informed them briskly. “You can take him home. Here’s instructions for care and a prescription for pain meds.” She hefted a sheaf of papers. “You have any problems, you call this number.” She circled a phone number at the top of the first page and handed them all to Hayley. “You want me to get a wheelchair, Mr. Braddock?”

“No, that’s okay.”

Ray slid off the cot, his normal, easy gait slow and measured. They’d given him a hospital gown, which he wore over his cargo shorts. Fletcher barely stirred when Hayley transferred him to the Explorer’s back seat. She helped Ray into the passenger seat. They drove home in silence. When they arrived, Hayley gently touched his arm. “Stay with me tonight, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Let me get Fletcher into bed. I’ll be right back.”

Once inside, Ray steadied himself against the closed door before he let himself lean on Hayley. Together they navigated the hallway. She yanked the comforter and sheets back, and Ray sat heavily on the mattress.

“Did they give you anything for the pain?”

“Just a shot before they stitched me up. He fumbled in his shorts pocket. “I’ve got a couple more pills here somewhere.” He gave up trying to find them.

“Let’s take these clothes off.” Hayley untied the strings of the hospital gown and tugged it away. Blood had dried along the waistband and down the length of his cargo shorts. Hayley searched the pockets and found a small plastic bag with two white pills inside and instructions written on the outside. “I’ll get you some water.” She disappeared for a minute, and Ray wondered if he was in some sort of woozy shock. He gazed around at all the softly feminine touches in her room, the pain in his side a barely recognizable indication of why he was there. He remembered the day of her migraine when he’d thought her room needed a man’s touch, or at least a man. And now here he was, sitting on her fluffy, girly bed as if he belonged there.

When she came back with the water, she offered him one of the pills, and he swallowed it. “You can take another pill in six hours. It says you can have Tylenol in between if you need it.”

Carefully he lowered himself to the pillow, sucking in a breath when his side objected to the way he moved. Hayley helped him pick up his feet and settle his legs on the mattress. He crossed an arm over his eyes. “Ow.”

He must have zoned out for a minute because the next thing he heard was the sound of a tissue being pulled from the box on the nightstand. He lowered his arm to see Hayley still standing next to the bed, tears streaming from her eyes in spite of the tissue she used to blot at them.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” He reached for her, but since she was using both hands to hold the tissue, there was nothing to hold onto.

He patted the bed on his uninjured side. “Come here.”

She shook her head, tissue still pressed to her eyes.

“I’m in no shape to, so don’t make me come get you.”

She lowered the tissue. “You need to rest. I’ll sleep on the couch,” she managed in a soggy voice.

“Like hell you will.” He pointed to the side of the bed he’d patted a moment ago. “Come. Here.”

Still Hayley hesitated. “Come on,” Ray wheedled. “You know you want to.”

She circled the bed and crawled in beneath his outstretched arm, lying next to his uninjured side, her head on his shoulder. He curled his arm around her and sifted some of her hair through his fingers. He kissed her forehead. “There, that’s better.”

She sniffed. A long, shuddering sigh escaped her. Slowly she relaxed against him.

Ray didn’t sleep. At best he dozed on and off through the night, waking up to the dull throb in his side. Twice he spilled some Tylenol out of the bottle and downed them with the water Hayley had left on the nightstand. She’d shifted away from him at some point, turning on her other side. But she was there in the bed next to him, which was, as far as he was concerned, where she belonged.

He tried to gaze into the future before he dozed off again, but the future was masked in shadows of uncertainty. For now what he knew was Hayley and Fletcher were safe. If there was any justice in the world, Carlos Mariano would be kept under lock and key where he wouldn’t be able to get to either one of them.

At six a.m. Hayley’s alarm clock went off, the unfamiliar beeping startling him awake. She levered herself up to reach over him to turn it off, giving him a close-up view of her very attractive cleavage. His raging hard-on warred with his stitched-up side and aching head. Hard to say which was making him more uncomfortable at the moment.

He caught her when she would have moved away from him. He kissed her, cupping a full breast through the thin camisole. She kissed him back enthusiastically, her nipple beading against his thumb.

He slid his hand beneath the camisole, pushing it up and away from her skin to cup her warm breast.

“Take this off,” he whispered and she complied.

She braced herself above him while he suckled her breasts, savoring the fullness and the heat of them. His hands explored lower, tangling in her sleep shorts and panties, until he found her hot, wet core.

She gasped when he touched her there, eagerly rubbing against his knowing fingers. Wild excitement raced through him as their tongues and hands explored and touched after so long apart. “I missed you,” she whispered. “I missed you so much.”

Tiny cries of ecstasy followed those words, and he felt her coil and tighten and then more wet heat as she came, sliding against his fingers one final time.

She sighed into his mouth, and he felt her smile against his lips. He was in a quandary, knowing he was in no shape for a round of vigorous sex, which was what his body cried out for.

He cupped her head and kissed her hard. “I don’t think I can—”

She smiled against his lips again. “You don’t have to.” She slid her hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, closing around him. He gasped in approval. She pleasured him that way for a minute before releasing him and repositioning herself next to him. He helped her get his boxers off. She stepped out of bed for a moment and crossed to lock the door.

When she came back, she parted his legs and knelt between them. She cupped his balls in one hand and lowered her mouth to him. Ray blanked out on everything except the mind-numbing pleasure of what she was doing to him. The gash in his side could have been nothing more than a scratch. The swollen bump on his head no more than a bee sting. Every scattered thought that ran through his unfocused mind had only to do with how to keep her there with him. Forever.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“But you’re awfully glad that I did,” Hayley finished for him, grinning. She reached across him and drained the last of the water from the glass on the nightstand before settling down next to him. “Why do guys always say that?”

“Um, because…”

“Because you don’t think women like to do it,” Hayley finished his thought for him again.

“Yeah. That’s pretty much it.”

“But it doesn’t occur to you that some women do.”

Ray covered his eyes with his forearm again. Rattled and unsettled, he didn’t think he was up for this conversation at the moment. Or any conversation for that matter. Tired and injured, he knew his defenses were down. He couldn’t take the kind of intimacy he and Hayley had just shared as lightly as she apparently could. Dogging him was the thought that she’d leave him. And he knew now that he’d be more devastated than when he lost Caroline.