Jill Shalvis - Serving Up Trouble

He’d gotten that message clear enough when he’d gone to the hospital and found an empty bed. That had nearly given him heart failure, until a nurse had told him she’d taken a cab.

Yes, she’d gotten his message, the nurse had assured him. And yes, she’d left anyway.

Leaning down, he softly brushed his lips against her cheek. She didn’t so much as twitch, not even when he ran a hand down her hair, over her slim back. Exhaustion, poor baby. Careful not to touch her bandages, he lifted her up against his chest.

She let out a little protesting murmur.

“Shh,” he whispered, his lips just below her ear. She felt so small, so vulnerable, and his gut clenched again, hard. “Just me.”

“I’m tired,” she said, eyes still closed.

“You need more sleep.”

“I’m not really up for company.” But she snaked her arms around his neck and held on tight.

“I’m not company.”

“Hmm.” She put her face to his throat. “Then what are you?”

He’d started walking with her, down the hallway, and stopped in the doorway to her bedroom.

What was he?

He knew what he wanted to be. “Why didn’t you wait for me? I wanted to take you home.”

“I wanted to come home by myself.” She still hadn’t opened her eyes, but her fingers were playing with the sensitive skin at the back of his neck, twining in his hair. “The cleaning up. The paints. It’s all very sweet.” Now she opened those dark, gorgeous eyes and laid them right on him. “Thank you. But I’m not going to forget how to live, if that’s what you were worried about. I’m going to be fine.”

“Yes.” His voice was hoarse and he cleared it. “I think you are.”

But would he? Now that was the question.

She looked at the bed. “And I could have walked here.”

His hands tightened on her. “I felt like carrying you.”

“Thank you,” she said politely, clearly expecting him to set her down. Expecting him to walk away.

With her still in his arms, he sat on the bed and scooted back so he leaned against the head board.

“You can let me go now. I won’t break.” Her smile was sad. “I’m much stronger than I look.”

“Yes, but I’m not.”

“What? You’re the strongest person I know.”

Leaning down, he put his lips very gently to hers. “I’m stronger when I’m with you.”

“Sam.” She licked her dry lips and searched his gaze. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Did you know my heart stopped when you got shot?”

When her eyes filled, with one lone tear escaping, he cupped her face and used his thumb to swipe it away. “I didn’t tell you that to make you cry.”

“You worried. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you whole and healthy. I want the night mare to never have happened. When I think how close I came to losing you…” Now his own eyes burned and he closed them for a long moment before opening them and touching his forehead to hers. “I was afraid you would die, and I’d been too selfish to share myself with you.”

“Share what?”

“Me. My heart. Everything. God, Angie… you’ve brought me so much, everything that was missing in my life.”

“What was missing in your life?”

“Love. I love you, Angie.”

Now she cupped his face, too, and used her fingers to stroke his jaw. “It’s the adrenaline talking,” she whispered. “You’re…” Her voice hitched. “You’re saying this because of what happened to me. That’s all.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true.”

At her look of disbelief, he let out a disparaging sound. “Okay, maybe it took watching the blood drain out of you to know exactly how my life would be over if you weren’t in it, but I knew I loved you before. If you want the truth, I knew I was going to love you from that very first day when you sat on that cold bank floor in my arms, blinking and squinting without your glasses, looking at me as if I was the only person in your life that mattered.”

She wasn’t wearing her glasses now, either, and she blinked and squinted up into his face. “You are the only person that matters.”

His throat closed, simply closed.

“I thought you knew that by now.”

Slowly he nodded. “I think it’s beginning to sink in. When you look at me like that…I feel like a super hero. I can do anything, be anything. Say you still love me, Angie. Say I’m not too late. Say you’ll marry me and give me the rest of your life.”

Angie looked at him for a long, long moment, with her entire heart in her eyes.

Hope fed him. But then she slowly, ever so slowly, shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sam.”

Sam shook his head. “You’re sorry.”

“Yes.” Angie was barely able to make her voice come out. “I’m…sorry.”

“Usually when a man asks a woman to marry him, she says yes or no.” He looked utterly bewildered. “I guess I didn’t expect an ‘I’m sorry.’”

Talking past the lump in her throat wasn’t easy. Neither was looking into his eyes now filled with wariness and hurt. “Sam.” She took his hands, brought them to her chest, pressing them against the heart that loved him, the heart that would always love him. “I drive you crazy. Why would you want to marry me?”

“Because…” He seemed shocked she would ask. “You make me smile. You make me see things. You make me live.” He lifted his shoulders and looked a little des per ate. “And because I can’t imagine doing any of that without you.”

“I’m also too cheerful. A little naive. Ditzy sometimes- No, don’t shake your head, I know what I am. All those things are alien to you, and sometimes…some times you look at me like I’m alien, too.”

Sam closed his eyes and grimaced. “We’ve already established I’m an ass. Look, we’re different, no doubt. But there’s nothing wrong with a little variety in personalities.”

“No,” she agreed softly, her heart aching. “Variety is fine. But this is more than that. Sam, I love you with all my heart, but I can’t-I won’t-change, not even for you, the most wonderful man I’ve ever-”

He put his fingers to her lips, halting her words. “I love you, Angie. All of you-your joy, your exuberance, your everything, and I think I have all along. Yeah, you scared the hell out of me, no doubt, but only because I wasn’t ready for you.”

“And you are now?”

“I am now,” he said in a voice of steel, the one that told her he meant it and that he would never change his mind. “I trust you with all the things I never wanted to trust anyone with ever again-my emotions, my heart. My soul.” He managed a smile. “Be kind to them,” he whispered, stroking her cheek. “Be kind and say yes.”

Her eyes filled. “Oh, Sam.” She wrapped her arms around him.

He buried his face in her hair. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” She laughed and cried at the same time. “Yes, I want it all. To be your wife, your heart. I can’t think of anything I want more.” Pulling back, she kissed him long and deep. “Except maybe your children.”

“Angie.” He stared at her, his hands on her hips to hold her close. “You’re not…?”

“No.” She kissed him again and slid her body against his until she felt his body respond. “But I want to be.” She straddled him and let out a hum of pleasure at what she felt nudging between her thighs.

“Your shoulder. Careful-” He broke off with a low groan when she rocked against him. “Angie.”

“Not all my parts hurt,” she said a little wickedly, making him laugh now even as he groaned again. “Are you really going to love me, Sam?” She nibbled at his neck, thrilling to his rough groan, loving the power of making this strong man weak. “And give me everything I’ve ever wanted? For the rest of my life?”