Bad Boy's Kiss (Firemen in Love Book 2) (13 page)

That, combined with my unease from the persistent morning sickness, didn't bode too well for keeping my dinner down when I went in there.

“Is it really okay for me to go in? I don't want to wake him.”

“He's already half awake, just kind of doped up on painkillers. He'll be fine to chat for a few minutes.” He got up and squeezed my hand. “Besides, he's the one who asked to see you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah. I might as well get home and try to sleep, I suppose.” He headed for the elevator, then paused. “Maybe I'm being silly, but Anna... You know I warned you about him.”

“Don't know what you mean.”

“He's trouble. You give him an inch, and he'll take a mile. I do hate talking that way about my own brother, but I know how he is. Just don't want to see you get hurt.”

“That won't happen.”

Except I realized it already had. Knowing what he'd gone through, the pain he must be in, hurt me too.

Trey got in the elevator, and then I was alone in the hall. I knocked softly on Max's door and let myself in without waiting for a response.

I'd tried preparing myself for what waited in here, but the reality of it was worse than my imagination. Max lay in his bed, both of his legs in casts from his feet to just above the knee. His scalp was wrapped in thick gauze. Various cuts, bruises, and burn marks decorated the rest of his body.

“Max?”

His eyes fluttered open. They were sort of hazy, the look of a person not all there. Trey had been right about the painkillers, but that was fine by me. He needed as many as they'd give him.

“Anna.” He smiled. “So you did come. I had a funny dream about you while the doctors were working on me.”

“A dream?”

“Yep. You came over to my place and we had the best sex ever. Then after, you turned into one of your chickens and flew away.”

I joined him at his bedside. “I wonder what goes on in that head of yours sometimes.”

“Not sure you'd
want
to know. The dirty things I think about would probably scare you.”

Or turn me on like crazy, but I didn't say that. Now was definitely not the time to be thinking about getting laid.

I gestured to his legs. “What in the world happened? It looks like you jumped off the roof of a building.”

“I pretty much did. A tree fell on me, I wrecked my ATV, tumbled down a hill, then landed on a million pointy rocks three stories down.” He shifted his weight and winced. “Felt like an action movie hero though, so that was pretty cool in the end.”

“You could have
died.
”

“Hey, when you've broken both legs, got a concussion, plus stitches all over your body, a sense of humor helps.”

On the TV, a commercial for some car dealership started playing way louder than the show before it. I found the remote and muted it.

“Anyway, I'm alive, and that's what counts. The good news is that help arrived, and they were able to contain the fire, so I'm told. They're putting out the last bits of it now, and folks in the area will be extra vigilant from now on.”

“Sounds like you're more worried about the fire than your own self.”

He shrugged. “That's my job, y'know. To put the good of others above myself. If I can save a handful of lives, what's a couple of broken bones? They heal. Dead folks don't.”

My resolve to stay away from him wavered. All this time, I thought of Max as little more than a rude jerk who strung girls along for his own entertainment. Now I saw he was more than that.

Still an asshole, maybe, but brave. A man like him could keep me safe in more ways than one.

“I'm kind of surprised you made it, actually. I heard the nurses say visiting hours ended a couple hours ago.”

“Well...” I smiled with embarrassment and patted my stomach. “Family gets to come in whenever they like. So, I thought on the fly and told them I was your wife. I think the baby bump helped me look the part.”

His jaw fell. “You did? That's quick thinking, but quite a gamble. I'm amazed they believed it. Anybody in this town who knows me knows I'd never get married.”

My spirit sank, though I had no reason to be upset. Just like Trey said, Max was trouble. He'd be okay for a fling while he was here visiting – Lord knows I needed it. But beyond that? Heck no. That was just asking to have my heart stomped on.

Somebody knocked, and a nurse came in humming softly to herself. Her eyes widened when she saw me by Max's side. Maybe I was just full of it, but she looked a bit jealous.

“Oh, excuse me. I didn't mean to interrupt.” She shook my hand vigorously. “I just came to check on his IV, but this is good timing. You're his wife, right?”

Max glanced at me and grinned. I could tell by that look he thought this was rather hilarious. Well, couldn't go back now, could I?

“That's me.” My voice cracked. “Anna McLaren.”

Why did I have to like the sound of our names together so much? That was just silly. Right?

“The doctor will give you more details when Max is discharged in a few days.” She took his medical chart off the door and showed me. “But here's the gist of it. Although most of his other injuries are relatively minor, he took the full force of the fall by landing directly on his knees. The impact of that, as you can imagine, was quite devastating.”

She flipped pages and let me see his x-rays, although I would rather not have seen his bones broken at that horrifying angle. I struggled not to dry heave and clamped a hand over my mouth.

“His legs, as you can see, are going to be unusable for some time. Here, we have a compound fracture of the tibula in both legs. The right one was an open fracture, also.”

“Open?”

“The bone was protruding through the skin.”

Oh, Lord. Why did I have to ask?

Max, as he did, was taking this all in stride. He wore a goofy grin and kept shooting me the most suggestive winks while the nurse's back was turned. Just how much drugs did they dose him with?

Mercifully, she turned pages. “He's going to be in these casts for at least six to eight weeks, depending on the progress of healing. Until then, obviously, he won't be able to stand, walk, or drive. He'll need –”

“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute!” There was a new edge to his tone. His jaw clenched. “Six to eight weeks? No walking; no driving?”

“Yes, sir. We're going to give you a wheelchair so you can get around. After several weeks, you might be able to use crutches. Then physical therapy will help you finish recovery.”

His face fell as he gazed out the window. “I can't stay here for over two months. I live in Waco. How the hell am I supposed to make it home?”

“That's right. You've got a job to get back to, huh?”

“I'm afraid he won't be fighting any fires like this.” The nurse interrupted us. “If you have proper transport – there are special vans designed for moving wheelchair-bound patients – you might consider asking if your employer has any desk work you can do.”

I'd never seen him so crestfallen. The injury itself he could handle, it seemed. Bones poking through his skin was no big deal to him. But his career as a firefighter really meant something to him. What was he going to do without it?

“Desk work,” he repeated. “No thanks.”

“You have no other choice, unfortunately.” The nurse, I could tell , was running out of patience. “Moving on. You'll also need to modify your home to accommodate a wheelchair. Think ramps instead of stairs. Wider doorways, perhaps.”

Max's eyes shifted from left to right, and he cracked his knuckles loudly. The poor guy looked like a caged animal desperately trying to find a way out – only there wasn't one.

“I live in an RV right now, lady. How am I supposed to modify that?”

She had no answer, of course. Not to mention him living in an RV probably made her suspicious of my marriage claim, but whatever. We had bigger problems right now.

“Maybe you could rent one of those vans. That way, you could make it back home, so you wouldn't be stuck here.”

He pondered my suggestion, then shook his head. “Yeah, but that won't work. My home in Waco is a second-story apartment. No elevator, no other way up.”

The nurse sighed deeply. “Perhaps you should consider staying with a friend who has a more accessible residence.” She turned back to me. “He's going to need considerable care, too, since he isn't able to be fully mobile or independent. There will be things he can't reach on his own – the stove, for example. He may need help bathing.”

Max growled and slammed his fist into the meal tray. It flipped off the bed and hit the hard floor with a loud clatter that silenced us all.

“Help bathing? I'm not an invalid senior citizen who can't make it to the restroom on his own. I'm not even thirty yet.”

Max's fury scared me, but the nurse remained calm. Guess she was used to dealing with outbursts like this all the time.

“Actually, I'm glad you brought that up. Whichever restroom you decide to use, you'll need to install a transfer bar or plate to help yourself onto the toilet. If you cannot do that, your wife or another caretaker will need to help you.”

Max turned red. He was obviously so ashamed that he couldn't even look at me. Myself, well... I was starting to regret telling that nurse we were married now.

“Fortunately, since you're male, urination will be easier.” She held up a plastic tube. “But if you don't like the direct approach, I can insert a catheter and show you both how to manage it.”

“No!”

The two of us shouted it at the same time, then exchanged horrified glances. I was about as willing to see that thing stuck that thing up there, I imagined, as he was willing to take it. Even I really
were
his wife, it gave me the creeps.

“Nurse, this is completely unacceptable. There has to be some other way, right? Surgery, maybe. Whatever it is, try it. I'd rather go under the knife than be without my legs for months.”

She smiled her sympathy. “I truly am sorry, but no, there's not. Your bones need time to heal, as does the rest of your body given what you just went through. You lucked out that the injury wasn't worse, then recovery would have taken even longer.”

Max was out of arguments and lacked any strength to make witty remarks, even of the bitterly sarcastic variety. The nurse began humming again as she scooped up the things he'd knocked on the floor.

“You'll be in the hospital for a few more days while we monitor you, then you're free to go home.” She nodded at me. “That will give you time to adjust some things in your house for him.”

And that was the end of that. She gathered her charts and headed for the door. On the way out, she turned to Max and looked him in the eye.

“This will be a challenging time for you both. But you do have each other, and love can make even the bleakest moments bearable.”

With that, she was gone. Max sat in stunned quiet for a long while, then threw his head back on the pillow and laughed.

“Love? Is that woman serious? I don't even know what love
is.
” He gazed at me. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

That wasn't a rhetorical question, and I didn't have an answer.

“I can't stay here. I just can't. I'll lose my damn mind, Anna. Not to mention my job. Desk work? I'd rather throw myself in front of a bus.”

I softly touched his arm. “Don't say that. This is only temporary, right? Then you'll be all healed up and good as new. Free to leave for home.”

Although if I was honest, I didn't really want him to go. If anything, at least he served as a welcome distraction from the pain of being abandoned with a baby.

I didn't want to let go of him, either, so I stroked his hand and wove our fingers together as we thought of what to do.

Wait...
We?
We'd had sex once. Had he not broken his legs, he would have bailed on me, like he did with every other woman.

I wasn't his wife, not even his girlfriend. I owed him no help, nothing. Could just walk away and leave him to deal with his problems.

But deep down, I knew that wasn't the right thing to do.

He flinched when I touched him, almost as if he wasn't used to such intimacy. Then, he stared at his crotch with wide eyes and let out a surprised laugh.

“At least the equipment still works down there. If my dick broke, I really
would
jump in front of a bus.”

I let go of him. “I'm glad that concussion hasn't changed your sparkling personality one bit.”

On the TV, the host of Family Feud bounced around the stage with some people who'd just won twenty thousand dollars. It was too much joy for either of us right now, so I turned it off.

As the television went black, the solution came to me. It should have been obvious from the get go, actually. Obvious it certainly was, but also completely insane.

Max would
not
like it.

“The food here is atrocious. I can't believe I have to spend three more days in this hell hole.” He picked at the pudding cup on his table. “Trey and I were going to have a steak dinner tonight, too.”