Jill Shalvis - Serving Up Trouble

The next time she woke, the light had been turned to dim. Confused, she blinked and saw that the room around her was white.

She was in a hospital bed.

Slumped in a chair by her side was Sam, his arms folded on the side of her bed at her hip, his head down, his shoulders rising and falling evenly with his slow, deep breathing.

She stared at him for a long, long time, the steady cadence of his breathing in credibly soothing, until the wooziness overtook her again.

When Angie woke up for the third time, the wooziness was gone.

The pain was not.

She forced her eyes open anyway and dealt with the familiar, horribly bright light. The chair was still at her side, and though Sam’s clothes were different, he once again slept.

His jaw was dark, as if he hadn’t shaved in a few days, and he looked so exhausted, so uncharacteristically ruffled, and so breath taking she wanted to cry.

Then he stretched, lifted his head and saw her watching him. His eyes were no longer tired, but suddenly intent and solemn.

Then she no longer wanted to cry, she was crying. This is where he tells me he can’t see me anymore, she thought.

She braced for the regret, the anger, but it didn’t come. Yes, she’d fallen hard for him, but she’d done so with her eyes wide open. She’d do it again.

But this was going to hurt more than being shot. “Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi,” he whispered back.

A chair scraped the floor, and then another. Then a short gasp. Suddenly four additional heads appeared near Sam’s.

Luke first, looking equally scruffy, but his eyes were twinkling with relief and a smile. “Hey, look at that. Sleeping Beauty is up.”

Josephine’s head popped into her vision next. “Oh, honey, you gave me gray hairs.”

Then there were Angie’s parents, looking at her as they always did-a little baffled, a little un certain, but both clearly moved by the sight of her.

“You’re going to be fine,” her father said with his characteristic inability to deal with things going any other way.

“Of course she is,” her mother said, as always in complete agreement with her father, unless of course, his opinion differed from her own, which only happened every other moment. “And you’re going to be quick about it. You have things to do.”

In other words, she had a life to make something of. While that might have felt like a burden in her past, it no longer felt like anything other than a wonderful challenge she couldn’t wait to get back to.

Sam was still staring down at her, silent. Which reminded her…the life she couldn’t wait to get back to…it wasn’t always going to be a bowl of cherries.

The real world, her world, was still going to include things like…pain. She would miss him so much. So very much. “I don’t remember how I got here.”

“Ambulance,” Luke said. “You didn’t hear our hero here bellowing at the paramedic?”

Sam shot Luke a warning look. “She doesn’t need details.”

“Sure she does.” Luke sat at her hip and grinned. “He nearly gave the poor medic a heart attack.”

“Really?” Angie looked at Sam, fascinated by the fact that he was squirming.

“He had to be forcibly torn from your side,” Luke said.

“This wasn’t your fault,” Angie told Sam.

“I know.”

Luke put a finger in his ear and wriggled. “Oh really? You know, huh? Then why have you been barking at me for three days?”

“Because you’re an idiot.”

“Because you’ve been afraid. Which I understood. It’s why I let you yell at me. You think I do that for just anyone?” Luke leaned closer to Angie. “All that putting up with him while you’ve been resting…I probably deserve a kiss. You know, to help soothe my hurt feelings.”

Angie smiled and kissed his cheek when he bent and put it in front of her.

Sam shoved Luke clear. “Go kiss your own woman.” He turned back to Angie, his eyes dark with things she couldn’t even imagine. “You really don’t remember any of it? The surgery?”

“Surgery?” She swallowed. “No.”

“You had the bullet lodged beneath your collar bone. It ricocheted around a bit, did some damage.”

“Missed a few important parts by the skin of your teeth,” Josephine said, biting her lower lip. Sam tossed her a dark look. “Not that you need to worry about that right now,” she added quickly. “You’re going to be fine, just fine. You’ll be back in working order in no time at all.”

The pain in her body made her think it might take slightly more time than no time. “I hope I can get back to work soon.”

“Don’t worry about work,” Sam said.

“I’ll get a temp, honey, no problem.”

But living without money coming in would be a problem. A big one. And yet with everyone looking at her anxiously behind huge smiles, she didn’t have the heart to say so.

Sam ran a finger down her arm to the IV, his jaw tight as he continued to gently stroke her. “Don’t worry about work,” he said again, softly.

Fine. She had plenty of other worries. Such as, how long before he put words to his feelings and walked away?

She wondered if she could pretend to go back to sleep to avoid that very thing. Wondered if he’d believe it. Wondered how long she could feign illness in order to delay what was so inevitable.

Some thing in her eyes must have given away her thoughts, because, without taking his eyes off her, he said, “Can we have a few moments here?”

A few moments would be bad. A few moments would be all he needed to tell her it was over, that what they’d shared had been a mistake. “I think I’d rather nap,” she said hastily.

Worry filled his gaze. “You just woke up.”

“We’ll just get out of your hair for a bit.” Luke leaned in so only Angie could hear him. “Keep him hopping, sweetie. It’s good for him. You’re good for him.”

Wouldn’t she like to believe that.

“You are,” Luke said in the guise of kissing her. “You’re just what he needs. Not sure if he realizes that yet, but-”

“That’s enough kissing,” Sam said with some irritation.

Luke just grinned. “You can never have enough kissing.”

Josephine pushed him away. She blew her nose noisily before looking Angie over very care fully. “It’s good to see you, honey. So good. And yes, I imagine a nap would be just what the doctor ordered. You’ll feel good as new in no time at all, I’m sure of it. Just holler if you need anything, okay? Anything at all.”

Her parents came close next, and kissed her cheek. “We’ll come back,” her mother promised. “We can help. I could go get your class work for you, if you’d like.”

“Really? Oh, Mom.”

Her mother’s eyes filled. “I’d do anything for you, Angie. I even finally understand you don’t want to go to medical school.” She smiled through the tears and kissed her again. “You’re alive, and alive is good. I’ve decided everything else is a bonus. Sleep tight, sweet heart.”

And then they too were gone.

Leaving Angie with Sam. Alone.

“Angie-”

She yawned, and didn’t have to fake the heavy feeling to her lids. They were closing on her. “I’m so sleepy.” Surely he wouldn’t ditch her now, when she could hardly keep conscious ness.

He could do it later, when she felt strong again. When she could stand on her own two feet and find her own balance. Then she’d be fine. She would.

“Just rest,” he said quietly, keeping his hand on her, and she wasn’t sorry for being selfish enough to want him to keep touching her for a few more stolen moments.

Just a few more.

As she let sleep claim her, she heard his sigh.

Sam had started to doze off himself when the hospital door opened again.

A nurse, probably needing to check Angie’s stats.

Or maybe Luke with the promised pizza.

But it was neither. He lifted his head and faced…his mother.

“Hello, Sam,” she said quietly, stepping farther into the room. She looked at Angie. “How is she?”

Sam couldn’t seem to find his tongue. All these years…and she stood there in her sedate business suit holding a small sprig of flowers in her hands, looking as if they met like this on a daily basis. “Maybe I’m hallucinating from lack of sleep.”

“No.” She took a deep breath. “It’s…me.” She looked at the sleeping Angie. “It’s all over the news. The nurse said she was going to be okay.”

“She is.” He cleared his throat. “What are you doing here? And how do you know Angie?”

“Well.” She put the flowers down at the table by Angie’s bed and lightly touched Angie’s hand. Then she drew in another deep breath and faced her son. “She came into the library and set me straight on a few things.”

“She…what?”

Now she let out that deep breath and came to Sam’s side. Taking his hand, she pulled him to a stand, then slowly, very slowly, cupped his hard jaw. “I don’t know where to start.”

She was touching him. Looking at him with tears in her eyes and a world of hurt that he knew he’d put there. “The beginning, maybe?”

“Okay. The beginning.” Her smile wobbled. “I was wrong to let you walk out of my life. Very, very wrong. I thought it would help if I couldn’t watch you do what you do. But it’s worse that way. I love you, Sam. You’re my son.”

“But I’m still a cop.”

“Yes. And I’m still terrified over that, but not enough to keep you out of my life. Not anymore. Please-” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat. “Please say you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

“But…why now?”

“Because life is too short,” she said with surprising vehemence. “Too damn short.” She dropped her gaze and backed away. “You probably have to think this over, and I understand. Just know whatever you decide, I’ll understand that, too.” She leaned forward, kissed him softly on the cheek and turned away.

Got to the door.

“Mom.”

She whirled around, the hope on her face making his throat tighten-a chronic condition these days. “I…love you, too.”

She put a shaking hand to her mouth. “Sam.”

He opened his arms. And with a sob, she walked right into them.

One week later, Angie left the hospital, arms overflowing with flowers and get-well cards.

She left alone.

When the word had gone out that she’d be released, she’d received a strict message from Sam via one of the nurses. She was to wait until he got off work and he would drive her home.

She was to be coddled and cared for, apparently. But she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to be anyone’s burden or responsibility, not ever again.

She’d found her strength.

Not that she hadn’t appreciated the attention this week. It had been nice, reaffirming and in credibly touching to see how much everyone cared for her. She’d been ridiculously spoiled and, much to Sam’s frustration, never alone.

Secretly she’d been relieved that he’d not managed to get her alone, because she couldn’t possibly have maintained the smile she’d plastered on her face for long, the smile that said everything was just peachy.

It wasn’t.

And he had tried to get her alone. In fact, the more he tried, the more frustrated he became, which greatly amused Luke whenever he stopped by.

It had become Angie’s mission, cowardly as it was, to thwart Sam at every turn. She’d even convinced the doctor to release her earlier than planned, during a time she knew everyone would still be busy with their own lives. Especially Sam.

She left the hospital under her own steam. She would not be dumped while lying flat on her back, damn it.

A nurse ordered her a taxi, and when she got home, she stared at the front door and braced herself for the memories. Sam, and their first kiss. The break-in, and the subsequent terror. Not to mention the mess in her apartment she hadn’t quite finished cleaning up, a mess she now knew had been created by Tommy Wilson, Ellie and George’s son.

She still couldn’t think of them without a stab of pain at their betrayal.

No more pity, she reminded herself firmly, keys in her hand, which shook only slightly.

The door creaked open as it always did, and childishly she slammed her eyes closed at the last second.

But she couldn’t stand there on the porch all day. She felt weak from the effort it had taken to get this far. She hated that weakness.

By tomorrow she expected her body to be much more cooperative.

Knowing she had to, she slowly opened her eyes, but…there was no lingering mess, nothing out of place.

Even her plants had been repotted and the dirt vacuumed away.

Who would have done such a thing? Josephine didn’t have a key to her place. Her parents had a spare, but they’d never let them selves in, had never even come over except when she’d first moved in.