Greed in Paradise (Paradise Series) (24 page)

“I talked to her about that and told her if she didn’t want to damage her relationship between the two of you, she’d better mind her own business. She’s worried you’re on the rebound. I reminded her that you were the most supportive of her relationship with Spoon. Hell, I only tolerate the guy.”

Phil walked in and extended a brown bag to me. “Boss lady’s favorites are in here. I offered to drop it by on my way home.”

“I’m so starving. Have you met my brother and his kid, Liam?”

Liam gave Brad a big smile. It pleased me to see them so happy together. Watching my brother with Liam proved he’d be a great dad. I had to keep from laughing when Brad looked over the long-legged Phil in an appreciative way and Liam, watching, mimicked him. They exchanged a few sentences of small talk while I ate. Phil waved and left.

“I about had heart failure when I saw Creole and Stanfield, and tried to wave you off,” Brad said. “I chased down Stanfield, who told me that you were there to see me. Why would you cut through Drug Corner and not go around? There is never a good time of day to be in that area. What did you want? It must have been important, since you never meet me at my boat.”

“I wanted brotherly advice about Creole and Mother. Next time, I promise no more short cuts.”

He pulled me to him, hugging me tight. “I like him better than the last one. I’ll get Mother out of here so you can spend time with him.”

I winked. “I’m going to stay here and eat until you make it happen.”

* * *

Brad forced Mother to leave when he found her dozed off on her cupped hands.

Liam got a text from Brad to meet them outside. Neither one of them stopped to say good-bye. Mother would have a fit if the high-heel was on the other foot and I treated her in that dismissive fashion.

I went back to Creole’s bedside and laid a big kiss on him. Someone had moved the chair over into the corner and I pushed it back next to the bed. I laced my fingers in his. If he woke up, I wanted to be the first to know. I laid my head on the mattress. It didn’t take long for my shoulders to ache. I checked out the nursing area, which was quiet since none of the other patients had visitors. The lights had been dimmed, except where two nurses sat shuffling through paperwork.

I closed the door quietly and walked around to the far side of the bed, slipped off my shoes, and climbed in next to Creole. Thank goodness for sweat pants—my butt would be on display in a skirt. I pulled his arm around me, nestling my face against his side and went to sleep.

I jerked awake whispering, “Creole?”

“No, it’s not your cousin,” Shirl huffed, continuing to hit my shoulder. “You can’t jump in bed with comatose patients.”

“It’s not like I did anything.” I sat up on the edge of the bed.

“Go in the lounge and take a nap. I’ll call you if anything changes,” Shirl said.

Tears trickled down my face. “No, I’m not going anywhere.”

Shirl handed me a Kleenex. “I’ll be back before rounds are made just ahead of shift change. If you get caught again don’t tell anyone you know me.”

I whispered in his ear, “Wake up, please.” I lay my head back down and went right back to sleep.

* * *

During shift change, I went home and showered, stopping for a caramel latte on the way back to the hospital. I sipped it slowly by Creole’s bedside. He squeezed my hand and I damn near spilled my coffee before I set it aside and jumped out of the chair. His eyes fluttered open and I hit the button by the bed. The nurse appeared instantly.

She took over, checking his vitals, talking to him, and smiling. “He’s coming around. He might be a little disoriented, and most first requests are for water.” She picked up the little yellow pitcher and rinsed it out in the bathroom, refilling it.

I refrained from spouting my personal commentary on tap water and made a mental note to sneak in bottled water. The nurse leaned over him and he opened his eyes again, this time looking down her hospital top, which had two buttons undone, and stared at her ample breasts. She filled his cup and held the straw to his lips. He took a long drink and smiled at her.

I moved out of the corner to the bed. “I’ll do that.”

“Talk to him; be nice, but not too nice.” She smirked. “I’ll check back every few minutes.”

Mother walked in and kissed his cheek. “I brought you a fresh apple muffin.” She held up the bag, setting it on the tray table.

“He’s coming around,” I said. “We’re supposed to talk to him.”

Mother started telling him about her latest fishing trip with Spoon and how she didn’t catch anything. The doctor came in and ordered us to leave. We both walked silently to the waiting room.

“I can see you have feelings for Creole, Madison. I just want you to make sure that he’s what you really want before acting, so neither of you gets hurt,” Mother said.

Why don’t you fix me up again
, sat on the tip of my tongue,
since that’s gone so well in the past—
but I held on to my anger. “What you should be worried about is Creole falling for someone who hates our family, like Brad has done in the past. There were long periods of time that we didn’t see him very much. Lately, it feels like you’re more concerned about his feelings than mine.”

“Spoonie told me I should mind my own business and I wished I’d taken his advice. That’s about the third time lately I wish I’d listened to him.”

I looked down and scrunched my face.
Spoonie!
“You should tell him you’re going to start listening to him. That makes boyfriends happy.”

“He’s coming by to pick me up for lunch now that Creole’s awake, or almost, anyway.”

If Shirl had been on duty I’d have tracked her down by now to find out what the doctor was doing.

Mother interrupted my worries. “Where did Creole hide you?”

“A safe house. I’ve been sworn not to divulge the location. Didn’t take me long to realize I didn’t like being away from family and friends.”

The nurse stuck her face in the door. “Mr. Creole is awake. He requested to see the redhead.”

I flew down the hall, slowed upon entering the intensive care unit, and walked quickly to his cubicle. I leaned over, holding my lips to his, kissing him softly.

“Don’t cry,” he said, sounding raspy.

I brushed his dark hair out of his face, staring into his crystal blue eyes. “I’m very annoyed with you,” I said sternly. “You broke your promise not to get hurt.” I nipped his earlobe.

“Dreams of bubble baths, cigars, and a redhead kept me going.”

My cheeks burned and I held the straw to his dry lips, intently watching him drink.

“You’re awake,” Mother said from the doorway. She kissed his cheek. “Have you thought about selling insurance?”

* * *

Creole spent one more day in intensive care and got transferred to his own room, which was a good sign that he’d be released soon. During that time, he had several visits from “dark, disreputable looking men,” according to Shirl, who said they showed up in the wee hours of the morning claiming some vague familial relationship.

I snuck up behind the guy named Help during one such early dawn visit, after returning from showering and changing my clothes.

“What the hell are you doing, sneaking up on me?” he demanded. He sported a few days of beard growth, dark clothing, and dark glasses; how he could see I don’t know, with his baseball cap pulled down so low. He was the picture of a street-corner he-whore looking for someone to rob.

I ignored his question. “What’s your real name or alias? How can I introduce you as Help?”

“None of your business, and I don’t want to meet anyone.”

“Fine.” I gave him a snooty look right back. “There must be someone I can complain to about your bad attitude.”

“Trust me, this job requires no personality.”

“If I invited you to a barbeque, would you come?”

He stared at me, laughed, and hit the bar on the entrance door to the hospital, disappearing. The morning light threatened to break through the clouds.

A frantic call from Shirl had me racing to the hospital. “Your mother is here pressuring the doctor to release Creole so she can take him to her house to recuperate. He doesn’t want to hurt her feelings; he wants you to do it.”

I sighed. “Mother is really good at playing nurse, a lot more nurturing than I’ll ever be.”

Shirl snorted. “Your hot boyfriend—cousin, whatever—wants you to get your pretty little ass over here now. His words, not mine. And he yelled, ‘Now.’”

Creole looked miserable sitting in a chair and struggling to put his shoes on, while Mother talked his ear off. I wanted to laugh but I didn’t.

“Mother,” I said, putting my hands on my hips. “Here are the reasons why Creole is coming home with me and I know you want the best for him.”

She didn’t look happy, but not mad either.

“We have three adults at my house. Didier is equal in size to Creole to assist him, better than you or me. I can get a doctor to make a house call with the push of a button and a pretty please. While he’s recuperating, his scurvy associates will be able to come and visit. They won’t go to Coral Gables.”

“I suppose you’re right about Didier, I did think about what I’d do if something happened.” She wagged her finger at Creole. “I’ll be bringing my homemade soup.”

I knelt down in front of Creole and picked up his foot, running my nails across the bottom and over his ankle, sitting it in my lap. I slid on the tennis shoe he’d been struggling with, tying the laces. He put his other foot in my lap, and I raked my nails up the back of his leg before tying that shoe. Creole had one hand in my hair, holding the back of my head, flexing his fingers, his blue eyes devouring me.

Mother coughed. “I’ll go ask the nurse what’s taking so long.”

The door closed. Creole leaned forward and I rose up to meet his lips, and we kissed.

I stood up. “There is one more thing. You agree to stay at my house and there will be no whining or complaining. You’ll stay until you can walk upstairs without assistance and sneak past Fab into my bedroom.” I wagged my finger. “Don’t think I won’t use my trump card to get you to behave. If you break my rules I’ll pack you off to Coral Gables to recuperate under Mother’s watchful eye.”

I saw in his eyes that had been an effective threat. We both knew she would smother him to death and be bossy.

He ran his thumb across my lips. “It could be months.”

“Shh, don’t tell Fab.”

* * *

Fab and Didier rearranged the furniture and moved the guest bed that never got used against the wall in the living room. I splurged on Egyptian cotton sheets, a down duvet, and lots of pillows. From this vantage point, Creole could easily shoot someone coming in the front door or through the French doors. Jazz had already laid claim to his spot, curled up asleep on a pillow in the corner next to the wall.

“Don’t get any ideas.” I narrowed my eyes at Creole. “The cat sleeps with me.”

“How does that work when you’re, uh, you know?”

“Jazz doesn’t care for the moving around, so he jumps on the chair and watches. Now lay down, you need to rest.” I stood in front of him, pointing to the mattress.

He sat and pulled me onto his lap. “Are you going to undress me?” He held his arms up.

The clothes Creole came into the hospital with had disappeared. Shirl said they probably got trashed, only leaving him with a pair of shoes. I purchased a pair of sweat shorts and shirt for him to make the trip to my house.

“You’re not going naked.” I frowned at him. “Make a list of what you want from your house and I’ll go get it, along with anything else you want or need.” I got off his lap.

“You know what would get me better faster?”

“No it won’t.” I started for the kitchen before he could grab me. “Would you like something to drink?”

Fab and Didier came back from the beach. She threw herself on Creole and gave him a loud smooch on his lips. “How’s my much older brother?”

“You better not hurt him,” I said.

Didier pulled Fab to him, putting his arm around her. “Don’t maul what’s mine,” he said to Creole.

“How are we going to survive all these A-type personalities under one roof, and I’m the only calm one?” I asked.

They laughed at me.

“Don’t you mean five? I’d wager your mother will be here soon with a carload of takeout boxes,” Fab said.

“Fab, we have a new rule,” I told her.

“What?” Her eyes narrowed. “And why do I have the feeling it only applies to me?”

“Look before you shoot. If someone strolls in looking like a street dealer in a tropical shirt, they’re probably a friend of his.” I pointed to Creole. “No shooting Harder either or threatening him.”

Didier looked down at her and smiled, enjoying that she’d like to unleash a tirade on me.

“Sometimes you squeeze every little bit of fun out of everything,” she sniffed.

Someone started kicking the front door; Fab and I looked at each other. “Mother,” we said in unison. Fab and Didier went to help her, since everyone knew she overdid the take-out food.

I sat next to Creole. “I hope you’re ready for all this togetherness.”

He laughed. “I forgot to tell you, a nurse told me an interesting story. She said while I was in a coma you got in my hospital bed and forced yourself on me.”

I covered my face in embarrassment. “I didn’t,” I giggled. “But I thought about it.”

Enjoy a preview of the next
Paradise
novel, Book Six

Coming Soon, Fall 2014

Deborah Brown

Chapter 1

The dark grey clouds seemed oppressively heavy. The sun peeped through the rain-laden clouds as they rolled east out into the Atlantic and a rainbow spread across the sky. The emerald-turquoise water surrounded the highway on both sides of the Keys for as far as the eye could see. Palm trees with spindly trunks and long branches lined the far edges of the beach, interspersed with colorful tropical plant life. I rolled down the window and a gentle breeze blew through my long red hair and tousled it into an unruly mess.