Page 129 of Steele

“Now, you got my contact information, and I have yours.” He handed it back then crossed the room and joined Vega at the door. “The nurse comes in about every fifteen minutes to make him breathe and cough.”

“Okay.” They left me alone with Brett. I tried to scoot the chair closer. Everything was quiet with the exception of his raspy breaths and the constant beeps and hums of machines making sure I didn’t lose him.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I want to start over.” I pulled a tissue from the box on the shelf behind the bed. “Not from the beginning though because I love everything about us. How we met, how you’ve changed me, how much I love you.”

I twisted on the chair, sitting sideways so I could see him better, and tucked my legs under me.

“I loved the first time I rode on the back of your bike in the rain. I’d never been so cold or felt so good. God, I was terrified, but you’ve always made me feel safe. I was nervous around you. And completely turned on. I’m not surprised I’m pregnant. I think my ovaries took over the first time you kissed me. I’ve never been kissed the way you kiss me.”

I glanced at my hands. It was hard to admit, but I’d never loved anyone the way I loved him. This was the kind of love that could last forever. A romance that stories were written about. The kind of love I didn’t know I needed because I didn’t know it existed. Brett had healed a part of me I thought had died along with Jeff and Matti.

I smiled even though I was the one still here. “I want to start over from the night I tried to convince myself that we’d be better apart. I wouldn’t get hurt, and you’d never grow to resent me for trapping you with a baby.”

I wiped tears from my cheek. “Being without you hurts. I’m miserable apart. And it’s not just sex, but I’m not going to lie. I miss you being in my bed.” Maybe if he’d been in my bed, he wouldn’t be fighting for his life in a hospital bed. He’d be home with me.

“I love us. The way you help me cook. The way you sip your whiskey. I love the way you call me baby, and the way you touch me like you have to be inside me.”

“Nah, baby.”

I surged up and leaned over the bed. “Brett?”

He smiled, and that dimple I loved winked at me. “You love the way I say filthy shit while I have you under me.” He licked his dry lips. “Keep talking because it’s making me hard. Tell me how much you love sucking my dick. My dick is the only part of me that doesn’t hurt.”

More tears filled my eyes as a broken laugh bubbled out of me. “I was going to say I’d kiss you better, but if your dick doesn’t hurt—”

“No,” he stammered. “Everything hurts, including my balls. But that might be because Dizzy tried to kick them back into my body.” He took a couple of breaths to regain enough strength to speak. “Still want you to kiss me.”

I leaned over him and gently kissed his lips. Because I was bawling as I laughed, I sniffed snot. He lifted his hand and sank his fingers into my hair.

Then we were both crying.

“Love you, baby.” His eyes closed, and tears seeped onto his cheeks. “Thought I’d never see you again.”

“I love you, too,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

He barely shook his head against the pillow. “Don’t be sorry.” His voice was deep and raspy. “I know you’re scared.”

I sat on the edge of the chair and leaned into the bed to be as close to him as possible.

“Don’t give up on me,” he said. “I know I got work to do. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I swear, I’ll be a better man.”

“I don’t want you to change. I love who you are.” With tears in my eyes, I bowed my head. “Don’t give up on me.” I repeated his words to him. “I’m going to have bad days. I’m always going to be a grieving mother.”

“And I’m always going to be there to hold you while you cry.”

Steele

After I spent twenty-four hours coughing up my lungs, I was transferred out of the ICU to a step-down unit. Most of the monitors were gone, but I still had an IV drip for the antibiotics, and they’d switched me to oral pain medication. Food tasted like shit, but Jaymi assured me it wasn’t my taste buds. Hospital food just sucked. Over the last four days, we had an ongoing game of what’s for dinner. First night home, I wanted that gnocchi dish she’d made the night I’d taken her home on the motorcycle.

The door opened, and the older nurse walked in with my breakfast order card and morning medication. She was whisper-quiet as she turned on the light behind the hospital bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Good enough to go home.” I’d been saying the same thing to her every morning since I’d been rolled out of the ICU.

“I think today might be the day. The doctor ordered bloodwork this morning. They usually come around right before breakfast.” The nurse glanced at Jaymi as she handed me pills and a water bottle to swallow them down. “I’m sure she’s ready to go home, too.”

Four fucking nights sleeping on a cot next to me. I’d tried to get her to go home and sleep in her bed, but she refused.

“If the IV comes out, the doctor says you can have a shower this morning.”