Texas Two Step: Texas Montgomery Mavericks, Book 1 (11 page)

Mitch’s gaze met hers and held. Suddenly, the room seemed to be too small, too warm, too claustrophobic. She struggled with each breath, as if she were sucking air through a thin straw. If she was going to pass out from lack of oxygen, was there a better place than a hospital emergency room?

“You’re probably going to want to contact your work and let them know you won’t be in for a couple of days. Do you have someone to help you?” The nurse’s question jerked Olivia’s attention away from Mitch and her ability to breathe improved.

“She does,” Mitch said, answering for her.

Olivia rolled her eyes, worsening her headache and dizziness. Bad idea. “I’ve got plenty of help. Maybe more than I want,” she said pointedly at Mitch.

The tech finished with the wraps and picked a pair of crutches off the bottom shelf of the rolling cart. “You know how to use these?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Good luck.”

The nurse handed Olivia a couple of pain pills followed by a form to sign. “For insurance,” she explained.

“Wait here and I’ll be back with a wheelchair,” the nurse said when the pills had been swallowed and the appropriate papers signed.

And then, too soon, she and Mitch were alone again.

“Mitch, hand me the phone and let me call someone to give me a ride home.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I have a limo waiting. I already told you, I’m not leaving you alone to fend for yourself. As soon as I know you have someone to help you, you can kick me out. I don’t have to fly home immediately. Besides,” he said with a wink and a blinding smile, “I bet all the cute girls have been claimed at the reception anyway.”

“Argh. You’re as stubborn as one of your bulls. You’re giving me a headache.”

“So quit making a big deal out of a simple car ride and let’s get out of here.”

Because the doctors weren’t sure of the extent of her injuries when she and Nancy had spoken, Olivia had thought it would be best if Nancy took Adam to her house for the night. Since she didn’t have to worry about a meeting between Mitch and Adam, and since she did need a ride home, and since the pain pills had kicked in and sedated her rational mind she said, “A limo, huh?”

“A mile long.”

“Is there a bar in the back?”

He chuckled. “Even if there were, no mixing alcohol with those pain pills. Plus, you’re already slurring your words. I don’t think you need any booze.”

She gave a loud, dramatic sigh. “Fine. You can give me a ride home, but only because I’m high and not in my right mind. Oh, and because I’ve always wanted to ride in a limo like a movie star.” She gave the beauty-queen-parade wave.

He laughed. “Fine, Ms. Movie Star. Let’s get your movie-star butt into a wheelchair and get out of here. I hate hospitals.”

The nurse returned with a wheelchair. After pushing it close to the bed, she and Mitch helped Olivia move from the bed to the chair.

Mitch grabbed the handles. “Thanks. I’ve got it.” He began wheeling Olivia toward the exit. Double glass doors slid open with a whoosh as they approached. As soon as they’d rolled outside, a car engine fired up and a black, stretch limousine pulled up to the curb. The driver jumped out and hurried to the rear door. Swinging it open he said, “Do you need help, sir?”

“I’ve got it. Thanks.”

An orderly engaged the chair’s brakes. Olivia rose slowly from the chair, holding on to Mitch’s arm for support.

“Easy,” he said. “Take it slow.”

Olivia gingerly lowered herself onto the leather seat then swung both legs inside. “Ha. Told you I didn’t need help.”

Mitch’s lips twitched, as though suppressing a smile. “So you did.”

He handed off the chair to the orderly, closed her door, and walked around to the other side. Olivia saw him hand a piece of paper to the driver before sliding onto the seat next to her.

“What’d you give him?”

“Who?”

“The driver. That piece of paper.”

“It’s a prescription for your pain killers. Is there a pharmacy you use? We should probably fill it before we get to your house.”

“Okay.” She rested her head on the back of the seat and shut her eyes.

“Olivia?”

She jumped. “What?”

“You fell asleep. I need to tell the driver where to get your prescription filled. And since I don’t have your address, you need to tell me that too.”

She lifted her nose in the air. “And whose fault is it that you don’t have my address? You never asked for it.” At least that’s what she thought she said.

He leaned closer. “What did you say?”

“Nothing. My address is 1974 George Avenue. We’ll pass a drug store on the way to my house. Anderson’s. Stop there.”

After Mitch had passed along the information to the driver, he settled back onto the seat and slipped his arm around Olivia’s shoulders. He pushed her head down on his shoulder. “Rest. I’ll wake you up when we get to your house.”

“I don’t need to
…
sleep.”

“Livie. Wake up. We’re at your house.”

“What?” She lifted her head from his shoulder and squinted through the dark window pane. “Where are we?”

“Your house. You fell asleep.”

Straightening up on the seat, she drew in a deep breath. She shoved her hair off her face. “Right. My house.”

The driver opened the rear door and she scooted to the edge of the seat, preparing to stand. Woozy from the pain pill, she swayed.

“Wait a minute.” Mitch scrambled out the other door and hurried around the car. He stood next to the car door, holding out his hand. “Can I help?”

“No, no. I need to do this myself.”

He nodded and pulled back his hand, but remained close.

She put the rubber-tipped ends of the crutches on the street. Then she slowly moved both legs out the door and placed her right foot on the concrete. Using the crutches for balance, she rose slowly out of the car. She gasped in pain and staggered. Mitch caught her and swept her up into his arms, allowing the crutches to crash onto the sidewalk.

Olivia opened her mouth to complain she didn’t need him to carry her, but even with the pain medication, her whole leg throbbed. So she shut her mouth, wrapped her arms around his neck, gave herself permission to enjoy the feel of his muscular arms under her knees, his rough fingers pressed into the flesh on her legs. Gave herself permission to enjoy the feeling of security when he pulled her snuggly against his hard chest.

Tonight would be the last time. She flicked her eyes shut, concentrated to store the memory of the width of his shoulders, the way his hair tickled her nose, the aroma that was uniquely Mitch Landry. There’d never been another man for her, and she knew there’d never be another like him in her life.

“Where’s your key?” he asked, jarring her out of thoughts.

She unclasped her clutch. “Here.”

He took the ring of keys and unlocked her door. Once through, he stepped into her unlit living room and stopped. “Where’s your bedroom? Upstairs?”

Even though the question wasn’t in any way suggestive, Olivia felt a flutter of sexual awareness. Followed by panic that he might go upstairs.

“No. Not upstairs. Turn left. There are two bedrooms. Mine is on the right.” Her thick-tongued voice was slurred and whispery. She cleared her throat. “My bedroom’s on the right. Thanks for the ride, Mitch.” She sighed. “In the limo.”
And in your arms.

He looked into her eyes for moment, then kissed the tip of her nose. “Anytime. You’re a whole lot lighter than those calves I wrestle.”

She giggled. “Thanks…I think.”

He set her gently on the yellow duvet covering. The satiny material was cool against legs that had been heated in his arms.

“I’ll be right back. I’ll go get your crutches from the sidewalk and pay the driver.”

After he left, Olivia stood, wincing as soon as her left foot barely brushed the floor. Using the bed for support, she hopped around the bed until she could reach her dresser. She transferred support to the solid piece of furniture, standing on one foot while she searched through the top drawer for a pair of pajamas.

“What are you doing?”

The unexpected shout jettisoned adrenaline through her bloodstream. She screamed and lost her balance. She was on her way to the floor for the second time tonight when Mitch snatched her back into his arms.

“I said, what the hell are you doing?” he asked through gritted teeth. “I leave you for one minute and you can’t do what the doctors told you?”

She leaned into his chest, her heart racing. “You scared me to death. Don’t do that.”

He hugged her tight. “I scared you? You don’t know what scared is until you see someone you care about hit her head on a marble tile.”

Someone you care about… She wanted to believe him. Wished things could be different. Her throat became so clogged with emotion she couldn’t find the words to speak.

“Now,” he said, placing her back on the bed. “What was so important that you had to get up?”

She pushed her hair off her face. “I was trying to get to my pajamas.”

“And that couldn’t wait until I got back?”

She sighed. Reality time. “It could, yes. But you won’t always be here to get things for me. I have to learn to do for myself without hurting my foot again. And before you say anything, don’t. You have to go home to the Lazy L. I know how hard my family worked to keep everything going on our place, so I know you can’t be gone long.”

He crossed his arms across his chest as a look of determination covered his face. “I have an idea. Why don’t you shut up for once and let someone help?”

There was no use swimming upstream. As much as she hated to admit it, she did need a little help right now. Even worse, she didn’t want him to leave…not yet. She had some time before Adam came home. Her secret was safe. An hour delay before Mitch left wouldn’t affect that one way or the other.

A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. Flopping back on her pillows, she crossed her arms. “Fine then, slave. Bring me a dozen peeled grapes. You can hand feed them to me.”

He chuckled. “I don’t know about that. How about some comfortable pajamas instead?”

“That’s a good idea too. Top drawer on the left. Look for the blue set.”

He opened the drawer and she said a silent prayer of thanks she’d done her laundry before the wedding. Mitch pulled out a short red see-through teddy and turned toward her, holding it up in front of his body.

“What about this?”

She lifted herself on her elbows to see what he’d pulled from the drawer and giggled. “It doesn’t do a thing for your figure. And the color’s all wrong for you.”

He gave an exaggerated sigh, refolded the teddy, and pulled out a blue satin top and matching tap pants. Waggling his eyebrows he whistled. “Not bad, Ms. Livie. Not bad at all. Those are definitely your color.”

“Give me those,” she said, pretending to be embarrassed.

He tossed the set on the bed. “Lean up and I’ll unzip this purple monstrosity.”

“It’s not purple. It’s eggplant.”

He rolled his eyes. “Right. Lean forward.”

She did, and he unzipped the dress.

“Can you wiggle it up to your waist? Then I can pull it over your head.”

This time, she rolled her eyes. “I am not giving you a free peep show.”

Grinning, he pulled his wallet from his jacket pocket. “Will a hundred dollars buy me a private show?”

She threw a pillow at him. “Get out of here. I can do this.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m being all caring and professional here and all I get is criticism.”

She yawned. The stress and drugs combined to make it almost impossible to stay awake. “I appreciate all you’ve done for me. Coming to the hospital. Giving me a ride home. Helping me get settled. But you don’t have to stay. I’m home. In bed. Almost in my pajamas. I’ll call my mom to drive in from their place. She’ll be here within an hour or so. Besides, I think I’ll be asleep pretty soon. Now turn around. I want to get out of this eggplant…I mean, dress.”

He turned and she wiggled the dress over her head. The satiny material slipped over her head with a quiet swoosh. After unfastening her strapless bra, she tossed both across the room to a chair. Her brand-new thigh-high stockings, with their rips, snags and runs, had been left in a trash can in the emergency room.

“Mitch?”

“Yes?” he answered without turning around.

“I think I made a mistake with my pajama selection.” She covered herself with the satin blue top.

He turned. “You want that red teddy now?”

She smiled, too tired and too drugged to laugh. “Ha. Ha. I need a gown. I think I’d be more comfortable.”

“Same drawer?”

“Yes, but you’ll have to dig a little deeper, near the bottom. I don’t wear gowns much.”

“For my money,” he muttered, “you don’t need to wear anything at all.”

This time he bypassed the teddies. She suspected he’d seen a few lace bras and thongs, but when he finally pulled something from the drawer, it was her short, white cotton gown.