Page 62 of The Fire Captain's Unexpected Baby
Levi drapes himself on the recliner in the corner while the nurse who wheeled me in forces me into the hospital bed. She strips me of my jacket and my shirt, before handing me a backless gown to slip on.
“We have to be able to see what we’re treating,” she explains when my eyes protest the inconvenience. She looks away to give me some privacy as I do what she asks.
No sooner do I finish than the privacy curtain rips open and Paige storms in. She’s all fierce efficiency, silently and angrily setting up the monitors that will take my blood pressure and my oxygen levels.
I let my hands linger in hers a beat longer than I should. She refuses to make eye contact with me, but it has to mean something that she’s here. Inthisroom. With me.
Levi clears his throat. Her head snaps up, as if she’s suddenly realized we aren’t alone in here.
“Just wanted to let you know I was okay,” he says, an amused smile on his face. “But it seems that you’re so focused on your work, I might as well head home.”
“Levi—”
“Paige, you have responsibilities here,” he interrupts. “I’ve got to go home. I love you.”
My jealousy spikes at the casual way he said that to her.
He crosses the room, whispers something in her ear that makes her soften, and leaves.
“This really isn’t a big deal,” I tell her when the door closes with a loud click. “You don’t have to take care of me.”
When Paige looks up at me, her expression is softer. She’s no longer storming around the room, moving with practiced efficiency. Instead, her actions are slower. She takes a deep breath, and her shoulders relax.
“It’s literally my job to take care of you. And anyone else who needs it in Crown Hill. I don’t get to choose,” she says.
“I’ve had far worse than this.” I gesture at my hands and arms, which are raw and sore but not beyond help. I swallow hard, bracing myself for what I want to say next. When she focuses on them, I add, “Your text, for example, was much worse than these burns.”
Paige sighs and sits on the edge of the bed beside me. I fight the urge to pull her onto the bed with me. Anything to lighten the moment. To make her smile and laugh like she used to with me.
I don’t know what happened, but I want to find out.
She opens her mouth to speak, but then shuts it. Her beautiful eyes dart around the room, looking for answers in the corners. When none appear, she takes a deep breath and answers me.
“It’s what I think is right. I told you from the start we should take it slow.”
“Slow?”
That’s different from the space she requested in that text. Slow implies that she still wants to be with me—casually, of course. Maybe I’m reading too much into the vocabulary she uses to describe it. Slow might just as easily mean ending things.
“Slow,” she echoes, her lips curling around the syllable. “I have a son?—”
“Whom I adore, by the way,” I interject.
I can’t let her think that Noah is the reason we should call this off. If anything, he’s the reason I have been pushing harder into it. He needs a father figure almost as much as I need to be one.
She stares at me, trying to read meaning into my face.
“I just…” she trails off, her eyes never leaving mine. When her voice comes out, it’s lower and shakier. “I got scared.”
“You can be scared, but it doesn’t mean?—”
I never get to finish my thought because the door bursts open. It startles Paige and me apart, like we were two teenagers doing something we shouldn’t have been. The magic of the moment is broken, and I know I’ll have to fight to get it back later.
“This room is not avail—” Paige says, but she’s drowned out by the shouts of the old man barging in.
“Thank God, you’re okay!” he exclaims.
Looking at him, it finally feels like I’m home.
