Flanked (20 page)

It was a strange sensation, not having to worry about the bill. He hadn’t had coverage since he’d gotten too old to be covered under his father.

Of course, Garret had something else to worry about. He couldn’t shake the feeling they’d somehow get in trouble for this. But they were married, officially, legally. They’d even consummated it—a few times. Given that, could they get in trouble? He had no idea. Best to not think about that now. It could raise his blood pressure and freak out the doctors. Then they might not operate today, and he really wanted this over and done with so he could get to healing.

“Mr. James?”

Garret glanced up, thinking for just a second the receptionist was calling for his father to come back inside. Then the surreal moment passed and Garret stood. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You can fill these out while you’re waiting.” She thrust a clipboard through the open glass partition.

“Okay, thanks.”

Looking at how much paperwork there was, he probably should have kept his father around a little while longer to help. With a sigh, he sat back down in one of the most uncomfortable chairs his ass had ever had the displeasure of experiencing and got to work.

He was just tackling the check boxes on the third page, which listed columns of ailments he either had or had not had during his lifetime, when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He’d welcome any excuse to take a break from this tedious paperwork, but the name on the Caller ID had a smile spreading across his face. “Hey, wife.”

“Hey, husband. You nervous?”

“No, I’m fine. I now know every ailment known to man from filling out this pre-op paperwork, but otherwise I’m good.”

“Aw, I’m sorry. I guess a good wife would be there filling that out for you.”

“You’re right. A good wife would. She also would have sent me off to surgery this morning with a bang.” He grinned when he heard her laugh.

“I’ll
bang
you after you’re fixed. Promise.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” Crossing one leg over the other, Garret tried to balance the clipboard on one knee and keep going on the paperwork while he talked or this would take him all day.

“I’m sure you will. So I sent you something. It should be waiting for you when you get home tonight, I hope.”

“Oh, really. And what’s that?” His mind went to bad places. “Wait, you didn’t send me anything my father can’t see, did you? Like a box full of sex toys or something?” That’s all he needed. He wouldn’t put anything past Silver.

“Why the hell would I send you a box of sex toys in Ohio when I’m in North Carolina?”

He could picture the scowl on her face. “I don’t know. You might.”

“Well, I didn’t, perv.”

“Then what is it, sweetheart?” Garret grinned as he put on a sugar-sweet voice. Silver would really hate that, as much as she’d hate him calling her sweetheart.

She’d told him she hated couples who used mushy terms of endearment. Hopefully she’d hate it enough it would take her mind off the fact he was, on some level, actually thinking like a pervert right now. In fact, he’d already started to envision what sex toys he might be able to use with her next time they were together.

“I’m not telling you what it is, brat. You’ll just have to be surprised.”

Garret grinned at her endearment for him. “Oh, all right. I’ll wait.”

Silly as it was, he got a thrill anticipating getting home and finding his gift from Silver waiting. He felt more like a kid on his birthday than a man about to get sliced open. In fact, just talking to her had taken his mind off the surgery, even it if was only for a little while.

“So when do you go under the knife?”

“Any minute now, I guess.”

“All right. Don’t let them cut off anything I might need later.”

Garret laughed. “Thanks a lot. I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“Oh, it happens all the time on those when-surgery-goes-bad television shows.”

“Silver. Jeez, I was feeling okay about this until you said that.”

“I’m only teasing you. There aren’t any when-surgery-goes-bad TV shows.”

“Mmm hmm.” Sad thing was, Silver was such a damn good liar he didn’t know when to believe her half the time.

“It’s gonna be fine. You’ll be good as new and back riding in no time.” Her tone changed. He heard the difference and the sincerity. Maybe he could tell when she was lying and when she was telling the truth.

“Thank you.”

“Yup, good as new. Then you’ll be dying to get rid of me, the pesky wife.” Silver’s tone was light, but not the subject. It was something he’d been thinking about a lot.

“Don’t be so sure.” In fact, he wouldn’t mind keeping her around for a bit.

“Mr. James?” A nurse in scrubs popped her head through the waiting room door.

He stood and raised one hand. “Right here. Shit, Silver. I think they’re ready for me.” And he had another two pages to go on his paperwork.

“Go. Good luck. I’ll be thinking of you.”

“Thanks. I’ll call when it’s done.”

“You better.” Silver stern and bossy he could handle. It was the softness and insecurity in her voice he’d heard before that cut too close to his heart.

Garret hung up, shoved the phone in his pocket and started checking off things on the clipboard as he walked. He shot the nurse what he hoped was an apologetic and charming smile. “Just finishing up.”

Unknown hours later, he awoke to what felt like a mouth full of cotton and blurry vision. A large dark shape moved closer and Garret frowned. “Dad?”

“Hey, son. They called and told me when you were out of surgery, so I decided to come over and wait here until I could take you home.”

Garret glanced down at the white gauze taped to his shoulder. That was a lot of wrapping for what was supposed to be a small incision. “Did they say how it went?”

“It went just fine.” The surgeon appeared through the curtain surrounding Garret’s bed. He picked up the chart from the end of the bed. “You’ll be getting back on those bulls again before you know it.”

“Thanks, Dr. Stern. Good to hear.” Garret swallowed away some of the dryness in his mouth. He’d get around to asking for water soon, but right now there was a more important question. “So how long before I can start rehabbing to build the strength back?”

His father frowned. “Garret, you need to heal.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve been warned. I spoke to a—” Dr. Stern glanced at the chart again, “—Dr. Tandy about your injury. He told me that you’d be trying to work on it as soon as possible, probably sooner than was wise.” The surgeon smiled at Garret’s father. “Apparently this Tandy is used to how stubborn these bull riders can get.”

Garret’s father laughed, for probably the first time that day. “Stubborn doesn’t begin to cover it, Doctor.”

“Um, I can hear you, you know.” Garret scowled, feeling like he was a child again, way back when he’d had his tonsils taken out and could hear his parents talking to the doctors like he wasn’t even there.

“I know you can hear me. So hear this. No rehab until Dr. Stern says so.”

“Yes, sir.”

“So, he seems to be coming around just fine. I’ll get you some water to drink. Maybe a little fruit juice, and we’ll have you out of here in a couple of hours. Here’s a prescription for painkillers. Don’t be a martyr. Take them as prescribed for the first few days.”

“I’ll make sure he does. Don’t worry.” His father sent him a warning glance.

Garret let out a sigh, wishing they’d both stop with the lectures and go get him that juice now since he hadn’t eaten or drank anything since before midnight last night, as per instructions.

The surgeon flipped the chart shut and stuck it somewhere at the end of the bed, out of Garret’s view. “I’ll be back a little later, but I’ll send the nurse in with something for you to drink.”

“Thank you.” Garret’s father, who wasn’t groggy from anesthesia, beat him to the thanks.

“Thanks, Doc.” Garret repeated it anyway. And while he was passing out thanks, once the doctor left, he said, “Thanks for being here, Dad.”

“Of course I’d be here.” His father frowned. “So, I figure when we get home I’ll cook us some dinner. I stocked up the fridge and the freezer with some of your favorites, including mint chocolate chip ice cream.”

It was feeling more and more like he was in first grade getting ice cream after his tonsillectomy. “You didn’t have to do all that—”

“I wanted to.” His father interrupted him.

“Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“And I want you to know—” he hesitated a beat and drew in a breath, “—I told Molly I can’t see her for a while.”

“Why?” Even in his woozy state, Garret managed to make eye contact.

His father shrugged. “I know how you felt—”

“Dad, I may have overreacted about your starting to date. It’s okay. Really. You can see her if you want.” Between his injury and Silver coming into his life in a capacity he’d yet to put a name on—friend, lover, wife, savior—a lot of things had been put into perspective.

He’d never wanted to see what he’d seen in the kitchen and hoped to never experience anything like that again, but as far as the rest, his father moving on and finding a companion, maybe Garret could understand that.

“All right. We’ll see.” Something in his father’s expression—hope, longing maybe—told Garret how much his acceptance meant. The older man let out a breath and smiled. “Oh, by the way, Mrs. Charles next door called. She signed for a large package addressed to you. She said it was from the Texas Steak Company. Apparently someone sent you a case of steaks. Any idea who that could be?”

Silver.

“I have an idea who, yeah.” Garret smiled, remembering when they’d gone out to dinner with Aaron one night and she’d called him a carnivore for ordering the biggest steak on the menu while she made due with a salad with three grilled shrimp on top. This girl was a real keeper, in so many ways. It kind of made him wish their marriage were real too. He knocked that thought out of his head. “So, steak for dinner tonight, I guess?”

“Sounds like.” His father laughed, deep and hearty. It was a good sound.

Chapter Seventeen

“When do you leave for the airport?”

Silver cradled the phone on one shoulder while she half folded and half rolled a dress for the trip to Montana and shoved it into the suitcase. “Aaron’s getting me in an hour.”

“And you’re just packing now?” Beckie sounded shocked.

“Don’t yell at me. I have too much to do. I don’t have time to deal with your lectures.” Silver remembered she’d need her cell phone charger for the trip.

She lobbed the bra in her hand across the bedroom where it landed half in the suitcase. She strode for the kitchen and yanked the charger from the wall outlet next to the toaster.

“How can you do everything at the last minute?” There was a definite judgmental air in Beckie’s tone. “Why didn’t you pack earlier?”

“We can’t all be as organized as you.” Silver would normally add in something to do with Beckie’s anal compulsiveness, but she was just too scattered right now to think. “Besides, I had to go to my parents’ house for Thanksgiving dinner. That ate up the whole day yesterday.”

“Then you should have done it on Wednesday.”

“We had school on Wednesday.” Silver scowled, still pissed off about that. Stupid school administrators could have at last given them a half-day on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.

Beckie sighed. “You should have done a little bit each night then it wouldn’t be a big rush at the end.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

This was one more difference between Silver and her best friend. Beckie would have been packed for days. Everything would have been clean and folded, waiting to go into the suitcase a week ago. And there’d be a list—two lists actually. One master list with every item that got checked off when it went into the suitcase, and then a second list with day-by-day outfits, including accessories, so Beckie could make sure she had everything she’d need.

Accessories. Shit. Silver turned toward her closet and grabbed a small purse to use at the wedding. She should probably pack jewelry too. With a sigh, she reached into her jewelry box. How the hell could she predict now which earrings she’d be in the mood to wear tomorrow?

Silver dumped the contents of the box into the purse and zipped it safely shut. There, that worked out nicely. Who said she wasn’t organized? Purse, jewelry…

Shoes. Dammit. She’d almost forgotten to put in any footwear. “Hey, what do you think the weather’s like in Montana in late November?”

“Cold. Snowy. Nothing like here. Pack boots. And a coat. Gloves and a scarf too.”

“Aw, really? Crap. That’s not going to be any fun.” Silver blew out a breath in frustration. “I wanted to look hot at the wedding. How the hell am I supposed to do that if I’m dressed like I’m going to Antarctica?”

“Is it in a hotel ballroom or something? You can get rid of all the outerwear at the coat check and still look hot inside.”

“No, it’s at his ranch.” For all Silver knew, it could be in the barn with the cows. She dropped to her knees to look for her one and only pair of cowboy boots on the floor of the closet. She’d worn them to the bull riding competition the weekend she met Garret. They held some fond memories attached to them, those boots.

“Really? Wow. Okay, so dress warm and wear sexy underwear so when you do get alone and take off your winter gear, there’s a treat waiting for him underneath.”

Underwear. Dammit.

She had packed two bras but no panties, not that she thought Garret would mind about that. Though he’d probably come close to passing out from all the blood leaving his head if she told him she was commando at the church. Silver smiled at the thought.

It had been a long month, and even though they talked on the phone pretty often, she was ready to see him. It was so close now. In mere hours, they’d be together. Possibly not alone, not until they could ditch Aaron, but at least they’d be in the same state. That was a huge improvement over the past few weeks when texting and phone calls were the extent of their conjugal existence.

The call waiting on her cell phone beeped. Probably Aaron checking on her to make sure she would be ready. Aaron was as bad as Beckie sometimes. He had to be at the airport a full two and a half hours before a flight just in case. “There’s another call, Beck. I better pick this up.”