Reckless (Blue Collar Boyfriends Book 1) (21 page)

Keep your eye on the prize,
he coached himself as he strode to the fourth-floor IMCU, the last place he’d seen her. The receptionist asked who he was there to see.

“Ms. Arlington’s not on this floor anymore,” the woman said. She had on a lot of eye makeup and if she died her hair any blacker, it would start absorbing light. “She’s been moved to ICU.”

He cursed. ICU meant she was in rough shape, maybe even back on a breathing tube, or God forbid, in a coma. The urgency to get to her had him spinning around to head for the fifth floor. He remembered where to go from his trip to the hospital with Officer Reynolds.

“
It’s family only in the ICU,” the receptionist said, stopping him in his tracks. When he turned to look back at her, she shrugged one shoulder. “They’re also pretty strict up there outside of visiting hours. Just wanted to give you a heads up.”

He thanked her and exited to the bay of elevators. He had two choices. Leave or lie.

He hit the up arrow. Failing Camilla tonight was not an option.

At the ICU reception desk, a heavy black woman in scrubs looked up over a pair of colorful reading glasses hung around her neck on a beaded rope. She raised one eyebrow. “It’s awfully late to be visiting an ICU patient.”

“It sure is,” he agreed. “This where I sign in?” he asked, picking up the pen and printing his name on the clipboard.

She eyed his name, looking unimpressed. “
It’s family only this floor.”

“How do you know I’m not family?”

“Because I’ve got a memory like an elephant, Mr. Summers.” She stood up from her computer chair and braced her hands on the counter. “Last time you were here you had a police escort. You’re the hit and run who put Ms. Arlington in the hospital in the first place. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Damn. He’d been so focused on Cade Thursday af
ternoon, he hadn’t noticed the receptionist. He wasn’t going to be able to lie his way in. But he refused to give up.

“You’re right. I’m the one who put her in here. But she asked to see me that day and never got the chance. So I’m here now. Which room is she in?”

“Not going to happen. A, you’re not family. B, even if you were, there’s only one visitor allowed at a time after hours, and she’s already got one. Now, you’ll have to go or I’m going to call security.” She put her hand on the phone for emphasis.

“Excuse me.” A voice pulled their attention to the end of the reception counter. Cade stood there in a wilted dress shirt
. A day’s growth shadowed his face. His rounded shoulders suggested weariness, but his eyes were intense and worried. He noticed Derek but spared him only a nod. “Cami’s agitated,” he said to the nurse-receptionist. “Someone needs to come take a look at her.”

“What’s wrong?” Derek said. “Is she awake?”

The nurse stuck her head into a room behind reception and called, “Melissa, check on Ms. Arlington in five-twenty.”

Cade said to him, “They told us she was in a coma again, but she doesn’t seem right. She’s…I don’t know, having a nightmare or something. I can’t wake her up.” His gaze darted down the hall to the patient rooms, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. Derek recognized the look of a man severely pissed at
himself. He’d felt that way too many times lately.

When Cade pushed off the counter and headed down the hall, Derek followed. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from asking why the fucking hell Cade hadn’t called with an update on Camilla.

“Where do you think you’re going, Mr. Summers?” Nurse Bulldog said.

“To see Camilla,” he shot over his shoulder, not slowing. She needed him and he needed to be there for her.

He heard the nurse pick up her phone and say the words
situation
and
ICU,
but his focus was on Camilla. He followed Cade into a dimly-lit patient room that looked a lot like the one he’d seen on the fourth floor, but crowded with more equipment. As soon as he saw Camilla’s thin form swallowed up in the bed and her bruised, sleeping face pulled taut with distress, he passed Cade and pulled her into his arms.

He knew she was missing part of her skull, but he didn’t know where, so when he cupped her bandaged head in his hand, he was as gentle as he could be.
“Easy, Camilla. It’s just a dream.

You’re okay.” Was she having the same dream he’d had tonight? If so, what would she do when she woke up and saw Cade behind him? “It’s time to wake up, now, sweetheart. Can you do that for me? Can you come back to me?”

Her hands came around him. Her fingers dug into his back in the sweetest sensation. She breathed his name on a gasp and opened her eyes. They were as blue and vulnerable as he remembered.

His heart stuttered, and his chest tightened in a whole different way
than he was used to. The sensation was pleasant and terrifying at the same time. He had his dream girl in his arms. At last. Everything hard in him melted, and he knew he’d do anything for this woman.

“Is it really you?” she asked, her voice like sawdust, reminding him she was in this bed, broken and thinner than he’d known her because of him.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He couldn’t stop smoothing his fingers over her swollen cheek, her stitched eyebrow, her trembling chin, her pale lips. “I’m so sorry,” he choked past the lump in his throat.

A tear leaked from her eye. She tried to hide it from him by burying her face in his neck.

“God, I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you too,” she murmured near his ear. She clung to him, but her grip became uncertain. He didn’t complain. He’d take whatever she would give him.

Squeaking shoes and heated voices grew louder behind him. He spared a glance toward the door and saw Cade facing off with a uniformed security guard.

“Like all California hospitals that accept Medicare and
Medi-Cal,” Cade said, “Mercy Med’s family-only visitation regulations include non-spousal significant others.”

“That man is not Ms. Arlington’s significant other.” The hallway into the room blocked his view of the nurse who had been working reception, but he recognized her voice. “That is the man who put her in the ICU.”

“No,” Cade said. “I’m the one who put her in the ICU. She was downstairs a day away from discharge until I pissed her off enough that she got out of bed and fell down. Hell, I’ve been knocking Cami down all her life—”

Camilla tensed in his embrace.

He turned his attention back to her and saw pained confusion pass over her face.

“But just because I’m her brother I get a free pass to see her and this guy, the guy she’d much rather have at her bedside,
he’s the one you turn away.” Cade made a disgusted sound.

“He loves you,” Derek whispered to her. “He’s not perfect, but he’s your brother. He’s grown since that night.”

Her gaze locked with his while the others kept arguing. “What night?” Her eyes were big and wary.

“The night he ran you off the road because he was too
fu—frigging stoned to know what he was doing,” he said through gritted teeth.

She went still in his arms. “How did you know what I was dreaming?”

He hadn’t known for sure, but now he did. “Because I dreamt it too.”

Her surprise only lasted a second. Then her eyebrows knitted together. She shook her head. He saw denial in the set of her jaw. She didn’t want to believe Cade had anything to do with that night.

He, on the other hand, had no trouble believing it. All these years she’d carried the guilt of the accident he’d witnessed in his nightmares. She’d carried it all when she had no business shouldering any part of it. She’d carried it alone.

That’s why fate had brought the two of them together. He’d needed Camilla to help him see what an angry bastard he was and that he needed to start taking responsibility for that and make some changes in his life. Camilla needed him to help erase the guilt she’d borne for so long. He’d never been
more sure of anything. He and Camilla were destined to be.

Nurse Bulldog said, “If he’s her significant other, I’ll eat my badge.”

“Want a knife and fork?” Cade asked.

The security guard, a big black man, laughed. He said to the nurse in a deep voice, “Ma’am, it
don’t look like the patient’s in any trouble here.”

“Well, only one visitor is allowed at a time after hours,” nurse Bulldog said. “And what are
those
doing in here? There’s no flowers or plants of any kind allowed in the ICU.” She barreled past Cade and scooped up the vase of roses Derek sent yesterday.

Someone had smoothed out his crumpled note and tucked it into the greenery.

“I’ll take them with me,” Cade said, reaching for the vase. “I’m going. See you later, Cams. I won’t call Mom until morning. You’re welcome.”

“This one’s got to go too,” the nurse said, jerking
her thumb at Derek and looking expectantly at the security guard.

Cade looked like he was about to argue some more, but he didn’t get the chance.

“If he goes, I go.”

Everyone gaped at Camilla, including Derek.

“I’ll sign an AMA,” she said.

He knew she was talking about an Against Medical Advi
ce waiver, because he’d signed one before to get back to work after a round of stitches and a mild concussion. He was a lot older and wiser now.

“The hell you will,” he told her. “You’ll stay right here until the doctors say it’s safe for you to go home.

“I’m done here,” the security guard said, and he left with a rolling chuckle.

Nurse Bulldog left too, grumbling about young love.

He smiled into Camilla’s hair.
Young love.
Yeah, that’s what he had with this woman. He had a feeling she’d keep him young for a good many years to come.

“Did that really just happen?” The last few minutes floated in front of Cami in wisps of surreal wonder.

Her brother had argued for Derek’s right to be there and owned up to his part in her fall. Apparently, he’d also fetched Derek’s roses from her fourth-floor
room, ignoring the ICU’s ban. That’s where he had gone. He hadn’t been leaving her, after all. Add those minor miracles to the too-good-to-be-true security of having Derek’s arms around her again, and she might have thought she was still dreaming.

But the blinding pain in her head told her she was very much awake.

Derek huffed a laugh into her hair. “I know. I can’t believe it, either. I think he’s warming up to me.” He leaned back just enough to look her over. Worry creased his forehead. “You don’t look too good, sweetheart.”

Understatement of understatements.
If she looked anything like she remembered from her glimpse in the mirror yesterday, she’d put him in mind of a bandaged eggplant someone had practiced their sewing skills on. A far cry from the DG he’d called beautiful.

As he reached across her to press the call button, his scent of sunshine and Irish Spring soap brought her thoughts to focus. Surreal departed stage left, and reality blindsided her.

Derek. In her room. Holding her.

Derek, who’d cut her off last Friday. Who’d made lov
e to her while she’d been semi-corporeal in his bedroom while her body had been in a coma at Mercy Med.

Derek, who had no idea who she really was.

In his bedroom, she’d found him easy to talk to. Touching him and receiving his touch had come as naturally as breathing. She’d been aware of an undercurrent of insecurity in her personality, but free from her past, she’d been a different person, a better person. She’d been DG.

Now she was just Cami. Insecure, acceptance-craving Cami. And Derek was a big, intimidating, quick-to-anger, alpha male who looked like
Hard Hat Monthly
’s answer to
GQ
Man of the Year. Fate must have one twisted sense of humor to have thrown polar opposites like them together. She’d never be like the perfectly-groomed, perfectly-tanned, Pilates-body, big-diamond-wearing wife she’d seen in that silver frame, the kind of woman who looked like she belonged with someone like Derek.

She slammed the door on the possibility they belonged together in any fashion. The echo rang in her head, making itself at home with the intense pain.

A nurse came in, introduced herself as Melissa and took her vitals around an immovable Derek. Within a minute of starting on a morphine drip, the throbbing in her head quieted, but the cacophony of emotion storming her heart would not abate. Shutting the door hadn’t been enough.

Winds of possibility poured through the windows every time Derek’s powerful body shifted, always angling toward her, always sheltering her, every time his normally serious eyes met hers and went all tender and territorial.

Melissa pulled some padded leather straps from a blue case. “Dr. Grant left orders to restrain you once you woke up. I’m sorry I have to do this. Please put your hands near the rails.”

She’d never been claustrophobic, but the thought of being tied down reminded her of the fog. She’d rather have the nurse strap the huge helmet on her head than be helpless again. She nearly choked on her panic.

Derek took one look at her face and was on his feet. “That’s not necessary. I’ll make sure she stays in bed.”

“I’m sorry, it’s doctor’s orders.” Her expression radiated sympathy, but she gripped the straps with resolve.

Derek put himself between nurse Melissa and the bed. “Get the doctor on the phone.”

“But…I can’t,” the nurse stammered. “It’s the middle of the night. Dr. Grant won’t be on call ’til seven.”

“Well then, maybe we can wait ’til seven to talk about those restraints again, don’t you think, Melissa?”

“Well.” The nurse sounded uncertain. “It’s really not up for negotiation, Mr.
—”

“You can call me Derek. I’m Camilla’s boyfriend. I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. You can trust me on that.” He sat back on the bed and curled his warm fingers around hers.

She gripped his hand, thankful for an ally in the anti-restraint camp.

“She’s been through a lot, Melissa. And you can see she’s afraid of being tied down. Can’t you cut her a break, here?”

“I’ve learned my lesson,” she piped up. “I promise I won’t get out of bed. Not for anything.”

Melissa huffed.
“Alright. No restraints. For now. But I’m putting them on at the end of my shift. No arguments. You can take it up with Dr. Grant when she finishes rounds.” She pointed at Derek. “If
anything
happens to Ms. Arlington between now and then, I’m going to hold you personally responsible.”

“I have no problem with that,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at
nurse Melissa. His eyes were on hers. Nurse Melissa left, and Derek said in a quiet, rumbly voice, “I take my responsibilities seriously. I don’t have any straps, but I’m happy to restrain you, if you think you need it, beautiful.”

She swallowed hard and tried to worm her hand out of his. When he looked at her softly like that, her insides pulled tight with longing.
Stupid insides. She’d tried to convince herself they didn’t belong together this side of consciousness, but Derek kept stacking up evidence to the contrary. He kept making her feel as though they belonged together in every way, forever. What a dangerous thought.

He didn’t let her hand go, keeping it securely wrapped in both of his. His calluses rasped her skin, making her shiver.

“Please,” she said still trying to extricate her hand and ducking to avoid his gaze.

He lifted her chin with a finger. “You don’t need to pull away from me. Whatever
you’re doubting, whatever you’re scared of, stop.”

She blinked in surprise. Then she got angry. Her emotions weren’t a switch she could flip. She couldn’t just stop doubting herself and everyone around her because he told her to, even if his confidence made it seem simple and absolutely doable.

She gave his shoulder a push with her free hand, and he finally let her hand go. She glared at him when he had the gall to look pleased with her.

“What are you doing here?” She might be angry, but she mentally winced at her ungrateful tone. He’d saved her from the restraints, after all. “It’s the middle of the night,” she added without the attitude.

“That never stopped us from getting together before.” His grin made her think of some of the intimate ways they had
gotten together
, and her cheeks flamed.

“I didn’t call you. I
—I didn’t invite you,” she made herself say. He really shouldn’t be here, interfering with her plan to avoid him for their mutual good.

“You needed me,” he stated, as though it excused everything.

She raised her eyebrows in unspoken question, which didn’t even hurt. Her face must be healing.

Derek had made himself at home in her bed. He sat facing her, his muscular, jean-clad thigh pressing her hip. With her bed set to a forty-five degree angle, they were very close. In fact, he was invading her personal space. Her breath must smell like a Dumpster on garbage day. She pressed herself into the pillows to put as much distance between them as possible.

He leaned forward. “You came to me all those nights and comforted me through the nightmares. Tonight, it’s my turn to comfort you.”

Her heart pumped hard, on board with being comforted by this big, confident man.
Silly, sentimental organ. So easily broken. Not to be trusted. Especially when he kept bringing up the nightmare she didn’t want to think about.

No way could Cade have been involved in that accident. For one thing, it was too big a coincidence that they just happened to have been on the freeway at the same time that night.

Furthermore, her brother couldn’t have been as callous as the version of Cade in her dream. He hadn’t always been the nicest brother, but he’d never been malicious. Driving away after hurting someone, that was unconscionable.

That’s what Derek did last Friday.

Time to close the shutters against those gales of possibility. All boarded up, she could almost believe nothing bound her to Derek except a fanciful illusion, and nothing had driven a wedge between her and Cade except a ridiculous dream.

“It didn’t mean anything,” she said. “I don’t need comfort. It’s not like what I dreamt really happened.”

Derek’s eyes remained serious, but his mouth turned up at the corner. “Sweetheart.”

* * * *

So that was Camilla’s game. She thought she could pretend a miracle hadn’t happened to
them tonight. Maybe she’d convince herself a miracle hadn’t put them together for those nights she’d been in her coma, too.

“What?” she demanded.

He liked the way she looked indignant. She had an insecure streak wider than I-5, but when something threatened a loved one, she stood her ground. A force to be reckoned with, his surprisingly steely beauty.

By bringing up the dream they’d shared tonight, he’d threatened her perception of her brother, and the sham of a relationship she probably had with him, based on everything he’d observed. She and Cade could have so much more if they cleared the air between them. He knew that firsthand. Brothers could be assholes. They could also be the truest friends a man
—or woman—could have.

Camilla had also stood her ground against a nurse and a security guard a few minutes ago, and she’d done it on his behalf. That meant even though she was giving him a hard time, she still loved him. The knowledge made a permanent smile stick on his soul.

“What
I
dreamt?” he prodded.

A pleat appeared between her brows. She was so expressive, just like he remembered.

“Yes, what
I
dreamt.” Her raised eyebrows broadcast her annoyance. He was getting to her.

“What
we
dreamt,” he corrected.

She shook her head.

He breathed a little easier, seeing the movement didn’t pain her. That morphine was good stuff.

“That’s impossible,” she said.

“I made love to you, Camilla.” He refused to let her shut him out. He caged her with his arms as she paled. Her eyes went as big as the ocean. “That should be impossible, too, but it happened. Don’t you dare deny it.”

Her lips parted in surprise. Then she snapped her mouth shut, but her tongue darted out and wet her lips. Damn, but she had a beautiful mouth.

When she didn’t deny it, he went on, because he figured no one in Camilla’s life ever pushed her, and this woman desperately needed a push to get out of the rut of insecurity she was stuck in. “You remember,” he said, closing the distance between them and putting his mouth near her ear. Strands of her hair peeked from under the bandage. The strands were darker than he remembered, as if they missed the sun. “You remember waking me up from a bad dream with that gorgeous mouth on me. You remember me inside you, making you come, losing my mind because you felt so amazing.”

She moved her hands up his back and curled them into his
t-shirt below his shoulder blades. He hadn’t moved, but her breasts smooshed against his chest. She had to be arching her back to get closer to him. “You remember what you said to me that night. I know you do. Because I remember. I will never forget. You told me you loved me.”

“Derek.”

“I’m here, sweetheart. I said it earlier, and I’ll say it again. I’m not going anywhere. Not even if you push. I’ll push back, Camilla. I’ll always push back.” He stroked her throat with his nose as he gathered her close. She smelled a little sweaty and like a hospital, but with the faintest trace of melon. He inhaled it greedily.

When she didn’t shy from his caress, he pushed a little more. “I’m glad you’re not on a breathing tube,” he said, and he kissed her.

She released his shirt to dig her fingers into his back, like before, when she’d first woken up. Her lips responded to his so sweetly, and she moaned into his mouth as he opened her up and swept his tongue inside. Ah, yes. He remembered this. She was his DG, his Camilla. His.

He wanted the moment to last forever, but he backed off just enough to say, “Tell me you remember.”

“I remember,” she breathed against his lips.

Before she could take her next breath, he took her mouth again.
And again. He kissed her until he had her panting, until he was hard as a rock behind his zipper and aching.

Shit. He had to remember where they were.
In her hospital room. Where she was healing from horrendous injuries. Being with her felt so amazing it was easy to forget. He made himself stop and just hold her.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry I put you in here.” He smoothed his hand over her bandages, cringing inside.

She rocked her forehead on his shoulder, no longer trying to pulling away. His heart swelled to feel her relax against him, trusting him with her fragile body. “I had no business being on the freeway,” she said.