With Good Behavior (44 page)

He took in her prone form, lying on her right side, evidently sleeping. With a guilty wince he noticed her bandaged left arm in a sling over her shoulder, but his expression lightened considerably at the soft, peaceful look on her resting face. Grant was so mesmerized by her vulnerable beauty that he didn’t notice the shadowy figure rising from a chair by the window.

He looked up at the last minute to find Sophie’s father right next to him with a scowl on his face. Will gestured to the hallway. Pushed backward by her father’s brusque advance, Grant backed out of the room and almost crashed into an orderly wheeling an IV stand down the hallway.

Will pointed to an empty spot near the water fountain and they stood, eyeing each other warily. Grant was dog-tired and full of dread about conversing with this man who seemed to hate him, but if he had to fight to have a chance with Sophie, he would. She was worth it.

“How’s she doing, Mr. Taylor?”

“Why are you here?” he countered. “I thought you were locked up.”

Taking a deep breath, Grant responded, “Yes, sir, I was.”

Will glared at him. “Then how did you get out?”

“The prosecutor agreed it was self-defense and knocked it down to a parole violation. They let me off with another year of parole.”

The news did not please Will. “Call it self-defense, call murdering a man whatever you want. The truth is my daughter would not be in 
there
”—he pointed to the hospital room—”recovering from a gunshot wound if she hadn’t gotten involved with 
you
.”

“You’re right, sir.”

Expecting the young man to argue with him, Sophie’s father paused. He wanted to fire off another question but didn’t get a chance before Grant continued.

“I can understand why you don’t want Sophie to be with me, sir.” He stuffed his hands into his jean pockets and looked down. “I come from a criminal family, and you don’t want her associating with people like me.”

He looked up to find Will staring at him blankly.

Grant sighed. “I knew what my family was capable of, and I promised myself I would never put Sophie in danger. But I failed.” His hands tightened into fists. “I never meant for any harm to come to her, but she almost … 
died
. Because of me.” Swallowing hard, Grant confessed, “If I were you, I wouldn’t want a man like me with your daughter either.”

Will kept gawking at Grant. If he was trying to win the older man over, he was doing a piss-poor job.

“I know I can’t guarantee that Sophie will be safe. But then again, can 
you 
guarantee her safety, sir? I wasn’t involved in her life when she went to prison, you know.”

“What?” Will shot back angrily. “You’re trying to tell me your entire family wasn’t involved in setting up my daughter?”

“No, sir,” Grant replied nervously. “Uh, truthfully, I don’t know if anyone besides Logan was involved in Sophie’s arrest. All I know is I didn’t have anything to do with it. The first time I met her was outside our PO’s office. I swear.”

Will’s only response was “Humph.”

Longing to get to Sophie, Grant pressed on. “I’m sure you don’t believe me. Why believe a criminal, right? And I know if you had your way, I’d leave here and never come back. But this is Sophie’s decision, sir. I have to hear it from her. If she doesn’t want me here, I’ll leave.” 
It will hurt like hell, but I’ll leave,
 he silently promised himself. “But please, let 
her
 make the decision. Please, sir.”

Rubbing his jaw, Will glared at Grant. Then he dropped his arm to his side and let out a defeated sigh. Looking down, he stated quietly, “She’s all I have now.”

Grant winced, thinking about Sophie’s deceased mother. Her recent death must be much fresher in both their minds than the loss of his own mother.

“I know I can’t control her,” Will admitted. “I can’t stop her pain. But don’t you dare put her in danger again. If she’s at risk, you must leave her. If she’s in danger, you have to walk away to keep her safe. Can you promise me that?”

Considering his demands for a moment, Grant said, “Yes, sir.” He would be the first to walk away if it meant protecting Sophie from danger. Will examined his face for any sign of dishonesty, but found none.

Standing up taller with his shoulders pressed back, Grant asked, “May I go in now?”

Nodding his head, Will frowned and walked away.

This time Grant did not hesitate when entering Sophie’s room.

* * *

She was still sleeping, and he crossed with soft steps to sink into the chair formerly occupied by her father. Quietness blanketed them as he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest. She looked so calm and comfortable, and he longed to join her, to wrap his body around hers in that thin hospital gown and drift off to sleep. Would they ever be together again? Or would she flinch in fear upon seeing him?

He leaned forward to investigate the gauze bandage peeking out from under the tan-colored sling and felt utterly disgusted. The crack of the gunshot echoed in his head, followed by the vision of Sophie slumping back against the sofa. Grant shuddered.

Sophie rolled to her left side, and the pain from her wound startled her awake. Her cry of anguish pierced Grant’s guilty heart. She managed to sit up without further jarring her injury, and her right hand instinctively cradled her left elbow. Her shoulders hunched and a tear rolled down her cheek. She was still so exhausted, completely worn out from physical pain and unremitting emotional worry for Grant. She was not surprised to find herself crying yet again.

“Please, Dad, don’t bother the nurse again. It’s feeling better today, I promise.”

“You’re in pain,” Grant said in a choked voice. 
And it’s my fault.

Sophie whipped her head around to find Grant with a white-knuckle grip on the chair’s armrests. Inhaling sharply, she felt tears begin to flow as she gazed into his clouded blue eyes.

“If you want me to leave, just say so, Sophie.”

She gave him a baffled look. How could he ever think she’d want him to leave? “I, um, I—these are tears of 
joy
, Grant. You’re here. You’re free. You’re not in prison.” Smiling through her tears, she added, “How did you get here?”

“Thanks to your quick thinking in calling Jerry, I only got another year of parole.”

His silky smooth voice and good news was a salve for her wounds. For once she did not feel the throbbing ache in her elbow. “So, you probably have another year with Jerry, then. Can you handle it?”

Grant was finally able to breathe again. “I’m not sure I can tolerate that Cubs fan for another whole year, but I’ll do my best.”

They felt drawn to each other by a palpable force. Finally Sophie asked, “Why aren’t you holding me?”

Grant was next to her bed in a second. All he needed was an invitation, yet he still hesitated before touching her. “I—I—I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

“The only way to hurt me is if you don’t get your butt in this bed this instant.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Grant gingerly climbed in, taking painstaking care not to bump her left elbow. There was just enough room for him to fold his body around hers, resting his hand on her hip. As her back met the warmth of his chest, a happy smile danced across her face.

Their right hands stroking and caressing, Grant nuzzled into her strawberry tresses and planted a soft kiss on the back of her neck, which elicited shivers of excitement up and down her spine.

“Your dad is going to love this,” he whispered.

“Where 
is
 my dad?”

“Probably standing outside your room like a vicious guard dog. I had to fend off his snarling threats to get in here.”

“Oh, Grant, I’m sorry.” She blushed.

“That’s okay, Bonnie. You’re worth it.”

She sighed. “He doesn’t like me being with bad boys.” Then she chuckled. “Though I don’t know why he thinks 
you’re
 one.”

As they lay together, Sophie recalled the last time they’d held each other—in Grant’s bedroom after she cooked him dinner. So much had happened since then. It had all gone to hell. She cringed, remembering Grant’s anguished expression when she’d screamed at him on the ship the next day.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” she said.

“What?” Grant’s body tensed.

“On Rog’s ship—when I accused you of lying to me. I just was so overwhelmed to find out about Logan—”

“Shh,” he tried to soothe her. “It’s not your fault, Sophie.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll never doubt you again.”

Grant’s voice filled with remorse. “Please don’t say you’re sorry, when I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. I never should have dragged you into this mess.” He sighed guiltily. “I never should have involved you in my family’s affairs.”

“No, I did that all by myself, Grant. I’m the one who got involved with Logan.” She felt his body tense again. “I’ve been beating myself up for not recognizing that you and Logan were brothers.”

She drew a deep breath, and Grant’s body seemed frozen, listening to her intently. “When I saw the two of you together, you looked so alike!” She took his trembling hand into hers. “But then it finally dawned on me why I didn’t see it.”

He studied the back of her head nervously, steeling himself. “Why was that?”

“You may look like Logan, Grant, but you’re 
nothing
 like him. You’re nothing like your family. You’re a good man.” She drew his right hand to her lips and kissed his fingers softly.

Grant closed his eyes. He didn’t quite believe he was a good man, but at least she did. She believed in 
him
. He wanted to be worthy of her grace.

Then she grinned, thinking about her father. “It’s kind of ironic that I had to date a convict to find a good man.”

“Thank God you went to prison, Bonnie. I never would have met you otherwise.”

“And I’m grateful you’re a criminal thug as well, Clyde.” They snuggled closer and both felt sheer exhaustion from their crime spree—a crime spree that had finally come to an end.

Pacing the hospital hallway, Will decided he’d waited long enough. Surely Sophie had kicked that Mafiosi to the curb by now? What was taking so damn long?

Will burst into the room only to stop short right inside the door. His eyes burned at the sleeping figures on the bed, curled around each other so tightly that there was not one inch between them. Will had never seen such a look of serene bliss on Sophie’s face, and his own face curled into a scowl.

Apparently this Madsen man was here to stay.

S
till asleep, Grant unconsciously brushed off whatever was nudging him on the shoulder. However, the hand continued joggling his arm, and Grant’s eyes opened to stare directly into the ample bosom of the nurse leaning over him.

“Get out of that bed, young man!” she hissed.

His eyes widened and he quickly extricated himself from the wonderfully warm cocoon he and Sophie had created. At his departure, she groaned, shifting in the bed while yawning and extending her toes like a cat stretching after a nap.

“What were you thinking?” the nurse chastised, glaring at Grant before hovering over Sophie to dress her bandage. “This is a hospital, not a hotel—unless you need to be admitted too?”

“No, ma’am,” Grant said apologetically. He felt a little disoriented. That was the best sleep he’d had in a long time.

Feeling groggy herself, Sophie scrunched her forehead. The nurse had been very kind to her during her stay, and now she was harshly reprimanding Grant for sleeping? Something didn’t seem quite right.

The solidly built nurse began bustling around the bed. “C’mon, honey, we need to get you dressed. You’re being discharged and your father is waiting for you.”

That was it. 
Sophie sat up and glanced at Grant standing a respectful distance from the bed. “Did my father send you in here, Chavonne?”

Nurse Chavonne appeared surprised, but then averted her eyes, bending down to the overnight bag on the floor. “These are the clothes your roommate brought for you?” she asked innocently.

“Chavonne,” Sophie said, not fooled by her misdirection. “Answer me. Did my dad tell you to come in here?”

Reluctantly the nurse looked up from unzipping the bag. “Yes.”

Rolling her eyes, she inquired, “What exactly did he say?”

“I’m sorry, Sophie. He grabbed me and asked if it was hospital policy to allow our patients to have sex with their visitors.”

Sophie’s jaw dropped. “We were 
not
 having sex!” She glanced at Grant, whose eyes danced with amusement.

Chavonne continued. “Your father said he was going to lodge a complaint with my supervisor if we didn’t discharge you right away like we promised. So, I need to get you dressed and out of here.”

Scooting off the bed, wincing slightly from the movement to her arm, Sophie muttered, “He is some piece of work. I’ll dress myself, thank you very much.”

“No can do, Ms. Taylor.” Chavonne shook her head firmly. “You need somebody to help you. I want that elbow completely immobile for at least a week.”

Quiet up to this point, Grant stepped forward. “I’ll help her.”

Chavonne and Sophie looked over, and he reciprocated with a smoldering gaze that made both women weak in the knees.

“Um, uh …” Sophie stammered, a blush coloring her neck.

Grant sidled up behind Sophie, placing his large hands on her small hips. He leaned in, his warm breath feathering her ear as he whispered, “Let’s teach old Will he’d better not try to come between us.”

Feeling goose-bumps travel up her spine, Sophie’s blush grew deeper. She closed her eyes and leaned against his muscular frame, bolstered by his strength.

Chavonne hesitated, unsure what to do, but certain she felt like an intruder.

“It’s okay, Chavonne,” Grant nodded reassuringly. “You can tell Mr. Taylor it would be unwise to come in here for awhile, as his daughter will not be decent.”

“Maybe you could go get my discharge instructions?” Sophie suggested.

Rolling her eyes, the nurse exited.

“Now,” Grant asserted, kneeling down by the bag, “Let’s get you dressed, shall we?”

“Grant, thanks but I can do it myself, really …”

He stood, holding some folded clothing in his grasp, and gave her a disapproving look. “And what would Dr. Hayes say about that, hmm? I thought you were supposed to work on asking for help?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m never telling you 
anything
 about my therapy sessions ever again!”

He chuckled and clasped her right hand in his, stroking her skin softly. Finally Sophie said, “It’s embarrassing. I can’t even dress myself.”

“Let me take care of you, Bonnie. Please. After all the hurt I’ve caused you, it will make me feel good to take care of you.”

Searching his eyes, she finally nodded. He gently loosened the belt of her sling and carefully freed her arm.

“It doesn’t really matter,” he added, circling around behind her and slowly untying her hospital gown. “I’m only going to rip these clothes right off of you once we’re alone, anyway.”

He slid the hospital gown off her shoulders, leaving her standing in the cool air-conditioning clad only in her lacy pink panties. Her creamy smooth complexion gave him pause, wanting to take her right then and there, but seeing her shiver slightly, he quickly grabbed her bra from the pile of clothing on the bed.

“Uh, 
this
 should be interesting,” he commented as he faced her, holding up the bra and trying to figure out the best way to put it on.

“I usually clasp it in front and then slide it around,” she suggested.

He gulped and reached around her, weaving the bra around the small of her back, bringing his sturdy body closer and causing Sophie’s breath to hitch. She was glad Chavonne had helped her to shower the evening before, and she hoped she smelled as good as he did, his clean soapy scent flooding her senses. Sliding the ends of the lacy garment to the front, right above her navel, he concentrated as his long fingers hooked the eyelets. Skimming and twisting the bra across her skin, he began shimmying it up her ribcage but halted for a moment.

“Sorry.” He shook his head. “I just can’t resist.” He leaned down to graze his lips across the baby-soft skin between her breasts.

Her shivers were less about feeling cold and more about thrilling anticipation, and she inhaled sharply as he tenderly kissed her sternum, his nose nuzzled between her breasts. Her right arm snaked around his back and held on tightly as his lips ravaged her. Finally he returned to standing and gently looped the bra straps over one shoulder, then the other.

He gave her a jaunty smile. “That wasn’t so difficult now, was it?”

Reaching for the thin, scoop-neck white T-shirt, Grant draped the neck opening over her ponytail, one hand unleashing her thick hair from the collar and the other lovingly stroking her cheek. He was mesmerized by the flecks of gold and copper in her brown eyes.

His voice was husky. “There are going to be lots of kisses involved in getting you dressed.”

“That would be just fine.”

He inched closer and his lips lingered tantalizingly near hers. Then his full, sensuous mouth caressed hers, passing a jolt of electricity through them both.

Grasping her right hand while continuing to plant zealous kisses on her lips, he entwined his fingers in hers, fondling the smooth skin of her palm with his thumb. Reluctantly pulling away, he instantly locked his lips to her right shoulder and proceeded to glide his mouth down the length of her arm, leaving a hot, pulsating trail from shoulder to wrist.

He helped her lift and fold her left arm gently into the short sleeve. His soft lips loitered on the clean bandage above her elbow, and she whimpered only once as he carefully nudged her wrist through the sleeve. He drew the collar over her head then repeated the process with her right arm.

Her heart raced when he tugged her pink underwear down her legs. Once the panties passed over her ankles she nervously stepped out of them. Sensing her embarrassment, he had a fresh pair waiting for her to step into. A fiery red flushed her face as he guided the silky undergarment over her knees—would he continue his pattern of kissing the body part he dressed?

Glancing up at her with a mischievous smile, Grant craned his neck around her hip and planted a loud smooch on the curve of her bottom. Chasing her derriere with his lips he managed to connect with another kiss before she shrieked with laughter.

“Ticklish, Taylor?” he smirked, rising from his knees as he pulled her panties up and promising himself he would soon return to this enticing area (perhaps when her father wasn’t right outside the door!). He gave her a playful swat on the bottom before reaching for her jeans.

To Sophie’s delight, McSailor skimmed his mouth up and down the length of her legs like a vessel gliding across a body of water, and soon her jeans were also in place. He stood admiring his work, amazed that the casual ensemble looked so classy. She could make any clothing look stylish and chic, such was the grace of Sophie Taylor.

Her entire body hummed from the heat of his warm lips. With a woozy look, she confessed, “I never want to dress myself again.” He laughed heartily. “Will you dress me every day?”

“That can be arranged, Bonnie.”

Delicately replacing her sling, Grant then gathered magazines and books into her bag while Sophie stepped into her flats. She nervously glanced at him, knowing her father was likely waiting in the hallway. “Ready to face the music?”

Nodding confidently, Grant reasoned, “He can’t be as bad as a Mafia don.”

“We’ll see about that.”

They emerged from the room, hand in hand, with Sophie’s overnight bag slung over Grant’s shoulder.

“What took you so long?” Will demanded. Grant felt Sophie’s hand tense in his.

“What’s the rush?”

“I have the limo waiting outside for us. Let’s go.”

Sophie took a deep breath. “Dad, I’m not going home with you.”

“Of, of course you are!” he sputtered. “Where else are you going to live?”

“Kirsten’s.”

“You can’t stay in that blood-stained hovel! Kirsten is at her parents’ right now, and that’s where you should be too. Home.”

Sophie had not considered the damaged state of Kirsten’s apartment, and she dropped her head. Where was she going to live?

Grant gave her right hand a soft squeeze. “Sophie? Um, would you like to live, um, to stay, with me?” He leaned in closer and whispered, “How else would I dress you every morning?”

She smiled. “Yes. I would love to live with you, McSailor.”

Grant and Sophie shyly grinned at each other while a storm cloud passed over her father’s face.

“Y-y-you can’t live with 
him
!He’s a felon!”

Sophie’s grin vanished. “I’m a felon too, if you haven’t noticed, Dad.” Giving Grant’s hand a reassuring squeeze, she promised, “We’ll just have to be felons together.”

“But you’re not married! Your mother would not approve of this at all.”

She felt like he’d punched her in the stomach. Grant felt her body trembling next to his, fighting for control. He pulled her closer, as if to shield her.

“It’s hard to know what Mom would want for me,” she said. “But I 
do
 know she’d want me to be happy, to be in love. And Grant is the one person in this world who brings me happiness. I am in love with Grant, whether you accept it or not.”

Will sighed. “I just worry about you, Sophie.”

She instantly felt guilty, and stepped forward to give her father a hug. “I love you, Dad,” she said, feeling comforting fatherly pats on her back. “But I can’t live with you right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re being a helicopter parent.”

“A 
what
?”

“You’re hovering!”

He peered at her peculiarly. “Damn shrink talk,” he muttered.

She tossed her head and her ponytail swayed. “That’s right, Dad. Our family is enmeshed with generational boundary-crossing and emotional over-responsibility. I’m trying to break the dysfunctional communication dyads, but you’re not making it easy.”

Will groaned, and Grant got the distinct impression they’d argued this way before. Will turned to him and pleaded, “Can’t you do anything with her?”

Taken aback, Grant faltered. “Um, I have no idea what she just said, sir. I’m afraid I’m not much help.”

“Good luck with that, then.” Will anxiously cleared his throat and reached into his pocket, extracting a folded check. “I was going to give this to you, uh, at home. But I guess I have to give it to you now.”

She warily placed the check in the pocket of her jeans. “Thank you.”

“I gotta go,” her father quickly announced. “Don’t be a stranger.” With those parting words, he strode quickly toward the elevator, leaving them standing in the hospital hallway.

“Well, that wasn’t too bad,” Sophie said once he was gone.

“It 
wasn’t
?”

“What do you mean? My dad and I argue constantly—well, when we’re speaking to each other anyway—and this is one of the first times I actually won.”

“I 
never
 argued with my dad,” Grant said, feeling his cheeks redden with shame.

A frightened look ghosted his handsome features, and Sophie remembered the awful stories Logan had shared about their father. Grant was free of prison but evidently not free of his past. She hoped eventually she could help him heal.