As Fate Would Have It (13 page)

Chapter 29

Brie glanced down at her borrowed scrubs then turned her attention to the strong, dark haired man sitting in the driver's seat. As if he felt her appraisal, a small grin appeared on his face. Reaching out, he waited. She returned the gesture, gingerly placing her smaller, pale hand in his, taking comfort when he intertwined his fingers with his, and gave a small squeeze.

The emergency room scrounged up some hospital scrubs for her to wear home. Emmie helped dress her as she went over the discharge instructions and advice on care of her stitches. By the time Rye pulled her car around, she stood at the front door, more than ready to head home.

They didn't say much during the drive, although Rye kept a close eye on her. More than once she felt his probing gaze, but words were few and far between.

Once they arrived home, she made a beeline for her bedroom, intent on a hot shower to scrub away the memories of Gomez's touch on her skin. Just the thought of what happened sent her skin to crawling, and she prayed soap and water could work wonders on skin hygiene as well as mental trauma.

She stepped from the shower a long time later, when cold water drove her from the sanctuary. She donned the shirt he loaned her their first night together and finished with a pair of loose shorts. Though the movements caused pain from the pull on the newly placed stitches, she managed to brush out her long hair, simply pulling it into a ponytail for easy care.

A long look in the mirror caused her to sigh.
Did anyone get the license plate of the truck that hit me?
Bags sagged under her eyes, her shin sported a nasty purple bruise that matched the entire length of her cut nicely, while her knees bore fresh abrasions, red and raw from the struggles on a hardwood floor. Various small cuts and bruises speckled the rest of her body. She resembled the poster child for domestic abuse. Might as well get it over with before Rye decided to come looking for her. She lifted her chin, softly opened the door, and walked down the hall
.

Worry creased Rye's face as she emerged from her bedroom. Her eyes focused on his face and eyes, trying to read each and every thought written there. His gaze flicked over her quickly, yet thoroughly, before a corner of his mouth uplifted casually. "Dinner's ready."

Her feet padded to the kitchen table. Rye had been busy while she washed the dirt, blood, and fears down the drain.

"Thank you." She picked up a spoon and ladled a bite of hot soup. Leaning in, she sipped it after blowing across it a couple of times.

He nodded, following her motions. "It's the least I could do."

The words tugged at her heart, spelling out how responsible he felt for the whole situation. Guilt wracked his face and his eyes dulled with the load.

"Rye…" Her words trailed off as she considered what to say.

He looked at her, setting his glass of soda back down.

"It's not your fault. I made the decision and went of my own accord. You couldn't have known what would happen. None of us could."

A long pause later, he softly answered. "It's my job to know. I'm a cop. We have to plan for the worst case scenario." Reaching out, he gently rubbed his thumb across her discolored chin. "I shouldn't have let you go. I should have been there sooner, before he got his hands on you." His cheek tensed as he took in a deep breath. "I dropped the ball."

"No, you didn't." She leaned into his caress, soaking up the warmth and attention like a frozen icicle on a warm sunny day. "I… I thought…" Her line of vision lowered to the steamy bowl of soup. "I thought it would be simple. After Jack, I guess I got overconfident and cocky."

The scraping of a chair being scooted brought her attention back to Rye. He stood easily, took her hand, and pulled her up beside him.

Unsure of his intentions, she remained still, waiting for his next move.

"Come here." Tugging her hand, he guided her to the couch. He sat with one leg lining the back of the couch, the other bent at the knee, leaving one foot on the floor. Slowly, he settled her between his legs, encouraging her to lean back into his chest. As she complied, he wrapped both arms around her, allowing her to snuggle in.

Brie stiffened for a second, a moment of independence flashing through her mind, before common sense and a wounded heart took over. With a couple of small wiggles, she managed to twist enough to rest the side of her head against his chest. The beat of his heart eased her tensions as did his fingers lightly stroking her back.

He kissed her crown, adjusted a smidgen, then gave her a gentle hug, careful to avoid getting too close to her stitches. "You sure you're okay?"

Brie remained still, allowing him to soothe her, as she considered his question. A lump formed in her throat preventing any words from escaping. With a nod, she sniffed and focused on that lub-dub sound beneath her ear.

He sighed heavily. "Want to talk about it?" The words were softly whispered against her hair.

"I… I'm not sure." Her soft voice broke with emotion.

He cupped the side of her head, holding her close against him, resting his chin on her crown as he began to speak. "I remember my first hand to hand fight with a criminal. It was hard, messy, and damn scary. All I could think about is he had nothing to lose in killing me."

Brie nuzzled against his shirt. "Were you hurt?"

"Yeah." He didn't elaborate further.

She tilted her head to look into his face, noticing his eyes gazing across the room as if remembering the moment. "How did you… get past it?" The words tumbled out.

Rye nudged her ear with his nose, leaving a kiss in his wake. "It gets easier. One day at a time. No, you don't forget, but you realize something else. How special each and every day is."

She took a moment to consider those words before deciding to accept his sound advice.
Cherish the moment.
She'd heard a similar quote somewhere along the way and it stuck with her.

Resting in Rye's arms marked one of those moments with her. She closed her eyes, leaning heavily into him. "Stay with me?"

"I'm not leaving any time soon." The words rang with truth.

She cuddled into him, feeling safe and warm, something she wasn't sure she would ever feel again after enduring such a trauma.

Chapter 30

Rye spent most of the night consoling her, wrapping her in his strength while bolstering her with his words of wisdom and insight. His hard body cushioned her smaller frame, body heat warming her physically while his tender touches, nuzzles, and kisses warmed her soul. Nothing would harm her while tucked in his embrace. She knew that for a fact.

The doorbell chimed late the next morning, waking Brie from a restless sleep. Voices carried softly down the hall, allowing her to identify the visitors.

"It appears this year's get well card is…" He opened the plastic bag containing a golden brown loaf and sniffed. "Banana bread."

"Thelma?" Her voice, husky from sleep, rasped out. Gingerly, she sat up, experimentally shifting, testing out the strength and discomfort of her stitches. Her hand rested against her lower belly, offering support to the newly repaired wound.

He nodded at her, eyes taking in each and every movement. "Yeah. Jane, too." Absently, he stashed the bread on a nearby dresser shelf, striding over to offer his hand.

Taking it, she pulled lightly against his strength, managing to perch on the side of the bed much easier than anticipated. "The word must be out already." She sighed in weary acceptance. Not that she held animosity against the elderly ladies of the neighborhood, for they truly cared for her and the other community members. However, it made privacy near impossible when such gabby gossip mongers set their attentions her way.

"It's not bad. In fact, they were singing your high praises. Thelma declared you a local hero. Your aunt and mine have both called this morning, up in arms about what happened. They both took me to task with a stern tongue lashing. Oh, and they mentioned something about throwing a party later to celebrate your, and I quote, 'Tasing that bastard in the balls'." He released her hand and stepped back once more. "Need some help?"

She shook her head. "I'm just going to take a shower and get presentable." Catching the expression on his face, she quickly added, "I'm not frail and breakable. I swear." To prove her point, she stood up, headed toward her bathroom without a glance behind.

"Stubborn." He paused to pick up the gift from the dresser.

"Yeah, but you like me that way." With that said, she closed the door, and went about her shower.

* * * *

Twenty minutes later, she emerged from her bedroom, hair still damp and clinging to the clean pink T-shirt. Loose Capri shorts covered her bottom half. Anklet socks clung to bare feet, softening each step down the hall.

Rye glanced up from the living room, a slight grin crossing his face. "You clean up well."

She rolled her eyes at his words, but quickly settled next to him on the couch. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

With a quiet chuckle, he scooted closer, hands reaching down to latch onto the hem of the shirt. Ignoring the slight smacks and her complaints, he slowly lifted the material, peering intently underneath.

"Rye! Will you stop? The stitches are just fine."

He wadded up another handful of shirt, in order to trace the wound from hip to the center of her body. "I'm sure they are, but I'm going to check them anyway." His tone, though relaxed, shouted of determination.

"I'm a nurse, darn it. I am more than capable of assessing them."

"I didn't say you weren't, baby. I just need to see for myself." His eyes briefly met hers as he reached for the shorts and tugged downward.

Her face heated while she voiced a halfhearted complaint. Resisting the urge to squirm, she endured the embarrassment of his appraisal without further ado. She might as well be talking to a brick wall as arguing with him over this.

An achingly extended moment later, he replaced the material, gently tugging it over the exposed sutures. "Pretty sore, I bet."

She shrugged. "Not really."

The awkward silence droned on while she chewed her lip. The past day was a blur of violence, pain, anger, followed by tenderness and concern.

His strong arms reached out, pulling her across his lap. Without thought, she snuggled into his chest, wrapping both arms around his neck, allowing the steady beat of his heart to lull her nerves. His lips pressed a kiss to her forehead as one finger lifted her chin to meet his eyes.

"You okay?"

"I think so." A nod followed those words. Though a bit shaky, she quickly determined she could and would rise above this incident. Time would help.

He began to rub slow easy circles across her back, soothing the tension away. His gaze locked with hers, as if judging the truth to her words.

Leaning in, she rubbed her nose against his, unsure how to make the first move. She wanted his kiss, his affections. Whether for comfort or for another reason, she didn't care.

He met her nuzzling with a chaste kiss to her lips, lingering before softly opening.

She responded, her heart lifting with his actions. She cupped his face as he deepened the kiss while keeping the pace easy, relaxed, and gentle. Before long, she wrestled control away, using her tongue to prod his, flicking to and fro in an age old game of tag.

Her breathing hitched as she shifted on his lap, seeking closeness, thrilling in the feel of his body beneath hers. Needing to catch her breath, she moved away from his delicious and talented mouth, sprinkling kisses across his chin.

Rye returned them before he cradled the back of her head, gently guiding it to rest back on his shoulder while the other arm tightened around her back, drawing her flush to his body.

"Rye…?"

"Shhh." He soothed, rubbing his cheek against hers.

"I want…" She paused, biting her lip in consideration.

He grinned at her, eyes twinkling. "I know, baby. But, we can't right now."

She sat up, looking down into his face. A flash of hurt punctured her heart. For one moment, she knew he wanted her. Instead, he quickly put the brakes on her affections and actions. Her belly sunk as realization hit. "I'm sorry. I thought…" The words crackled past a blockage in her throat as she wiggled against his hold.

"Brie. No. You don't understand." He held her all the tighter, using his shoulder to twist her enough to look him in the eyes once more. A kiss brushed her lips before he spoke again. "I want you, too. If you doubt it, just move a bit to your left."

She did just that, her eyes widening at the lump she felt under her body. A rather large bump, in her estimation.

He chuckled and placed another kiss to her lips. "The doctor said no hanky-panky, remember? Not until the stitches are out." His face turned serious. "And, I want to make sure this is what you really want. Not that you are just seeking comfort."

Her brain slowly processed his words, recalling her discharge instructions from the emergency room. A frustrated sigh escaped as she rested her forehead against his. "Oh, yeah." Relief coursed through. Disappointment followed, but a sense of hope and pride that he would consider not only her physical wellbeing, but her emotional one as well.

She lifted her chin. "I really do want you. Not just as a … pacifier." Her bottom lip slipped between her teeth as she waited for his response.

She didn't have long to wait as a slow grin crept across his face. "Good." He nuzzled her neck and nipped her earlobe, seemingly content with her answer. "Haven't you heard? Waiting makes it better."

She snorted, jerking upward when his hand molded her rear. "Stop that." Her brows furrowed as she smacked at the offensive hand.

"Spoilsport."

"You are the one that just refused me." She quickly pointed out, fighting the smile as he squirmed at her wording.

"I didn't refuse you, silly Squirrel. I postponed it because the doctor threatened to castrate me if I even halfway considered it." His mouth puckered into a pitiful pout.

Giggling, she tickled his sides. "You're such a baby." With a shake of her head, she settled away from the evidence of his desire.

Her spirits buoyed with his admission. Maybe there was a chance he could return her feelings after all.
The thought alone rallied her determination and focus.

"I'm hungry."

She glanced up at him, one eyebrow shooting up at his declaration. Didn't they just cover this ground?

"I guess banana bread will just have to do." A mischievous grin appeared on his face as he sat her aside and stood. "For now." The sultry expression that followed sent her tummy to doing slow somersaults.