The Fighter's Stubborn Lover (The Burton Brothers Series Book 2) (9 page)

Avery set up camp in the hospital. The nurses seemed to be fine with that, dragging in an extra bed for her, and keeping an eye out for her. Alice insisted on pulling Avery out for meals and breaks, telling her, “Quit hogging the man. Bryant and Beck need to be here, too, and you know they raise a fuss if it starts to look like a party in there. Besides, the doc said he’s getting better.”

Better—but not awake. Avery’s stomach knotted every time she thought about losing Mason and she knew she had to pull it together. She couldn’t think that way—not any more. She needed to focus on thoughts of Mason getting better. She needed to picture him smiling as he watched Dustin fight. And she was going to have to learn how to watch that, too. She only let herself fall apart in the shower, where the water could hide her tears. And she knew this was going to take time.

Most of her clients were fine when she told them about the accident and her shifted priorities. Only one client raised a fuss about her temporary limited hours, and she flatly told them that if they were unhappy she would quit. They immediately back peddled and said they understood—and she made a mental note to raise their rates next contract cycle. She couldn’t work on her laptop in the hospital—no Internet—so she had to grab time at a local coffee shop to try and at least stay current. But that was hard. She kept thinking about Mason.

His bruises were starting to fade. The nurses pulled the breathing tube and the doctor started to talk about moving Mason out of IC. Everyone kept telling her not to worry too much. Debbie—the nurse in the pink scrubs who seemed to love bright colors, told her, “He needs to let his body heal—the swelling is down in his brain, and it’s looking good.”

Avery stared at her “So why isn’t he awake?” No one gave her an answer that made sense. The doctors had performed yet another scan of his head, pronouncing him healing nicely, and the bruises and scrapes of his body were healing.

But Mason himself seemed to be gone. And Avery kept thinking about all the stories she’d ever heard about people in commas who never woken. She kept thinking about Edward. She kept kicking herself for backsliding and letting the negative creep back in. Mason needed her to stay positive.

All too soon, Dustin had to leave for his fight. He came to see Avery at the hospital. He stopped beside Mason’s bed. “How’s he doing?”

Avery shook her head. “You better ask Mason. Hey, Mason, look who’s here. Dustin. He’s been working so hard—you’d be proud of him.” She motioned for Dustin to keep talking.

With a sideways look at her, Dustin stepped up to the bed. “Yeah, working my ass off. Beck says I’m ready, but Bryant keeps telling me not to get cocky. He sounds a lot like you. And, uh, Anders got reserved seats for everyone. He says it’s going to be a media frenzy and everyone’s going to be asking about you. My big fight, and you get to be the star. And…and well, I gotta go now.”

Standing, Avery gave Dustin a hug. “Be safe. Okay. Be smart. And…and…” She broke off and pulled in a breath. “And I’m going to be watching you from here on the pay per view, so you better be good.”

Dustin gave her a smile. “How are you going to get a TV in IC?”

“Oh, I’m going to make sure Mason can at least hear the fight.” 

That took more doing than Avery anticipated. She had to argue with the doctors, the nurses, and the administrative staff. Since they were already talking about moving Mason out of intensive care, she convinced them to get Mason into a room near IC—and then she set about making sure the TV would handle the paid fight programs.

She’d just gotten everything set up when the lesser fights were starting. Sitting down next to Mason, she took his hand. He’d lost his tan during his stay in the hospital and while it was no longer so strange to see him lying in a bed so very still, she knew she’d give anything for him to squeeze her fingers.
Please…please just open your eyes.
But he just lay propped up in his bed, the feeding tubes and monitoring wires hooked up to a body that seemed to be lacking in a soul.

Sitting in the chair next to him and trying to watch him and the fight wasn’t working, so Avery tucked herself into Mason’s bed and held him close. “Better, hun?” she told him. “I can’t wait to get you home, you know. I bought some new pajamas—black and lacy, just for you.” She toyed with his hair as she spoke.

The hospital staff had kept Mason shaved and bathed—and Avery had taken over some of that job from them. She liked rubbing a sponge over his muscles. Feeling the life and strength still in his body reminded her that he was still in this world—he was healing. And she’d talk to him when she washed him, telling him all the things she wanted to do with him when he was better. How she wanted to touch him—how she wanted to make love again.

But his hair was getting long and curled on the ends now. “You need a haircut,” she said, bending close.

From the TV, the crowd roared and she glanced at the screen. She winced when she saw one man getting pounded by another. For a moment, her chest tightened and her breath wheezed. She sipped down breaths and hugged Mason. “Oh, that wasn’t good. Did you see that? Dustin better not get thumped like that or I’m going to thumping you for not training him to be good enough.”

Mason lay unmoving in her arms.

The fight ended, and Dustin entered the arena. Avery’s palms grew sweaty. Her chest tightened and she started to gasp for air. Dark spots danced at the edge of her vision. Just in case she pulled her inhaler from her purse and left it on the bed. Snuggling in close to Mason, she held him tighter.

The announcer’s voice came on and Avery finally saw a ring girl—a girl wearing almost nothing walking around with a sign, as if any guy was looking at anything but the amount of skin showing. Avery caught a breath and punched Mason’s arm. “You ever hang out with those girls and you are so much toast, mister.”

“And now, for the fight you’ve all been waiting for. In the red corner, wearing the black shorts is Dustin Caaaaaaldwellllll! In the white corner, wearing the green shorts is Shamus the ‘Fighting Irish’ MacDougallll!”

On the TV, Avery watched the other fighter climb into the ring and strut around. “He looks a lot bigger than Dustin. I thought you said the guys were supposed to be matched?”

Mason didn’t answer and Avery’s chest tightened even more. She reached for her inhaler, but it had gotten lost in the blanket. She couldn’t find it. The fight began. She watched Dustin move in close. She recognized the roundhouse kick he launched—but then it was just a lot of punching. Avery winced and put a hand on her chest. Dustin backed away. Somehow he managed to duck the other guy’s wild swings.

And then Dustin got hit.

Avery closed her eyes—and her chest closed, too. She gasped for a breathe—and found her throat closing and her chest shutting down. She tried to sit up, but the world swam. She could hear the crowd on the TV go wild about something, but her world narrowed to just the next breath. She needed to get to her inhaler—or to the call button for a nurse. She needed…

Something tightened around her hand.

She glanced down and saw Mason’s fingers twitch. For an instant she forgot to struggle to pull in the next breath. She glanced down at Mason and saw his eyelashes flutter—so dark against his skin now. His fingers twitched again, poking at the inhaler she’d lost. She grabbed it and took three hits from it.

The tightness and wheezing in her chest eased. Dragging in a slow breath, Avery smiled. “Can you hear me, baby?” She hit the nurses’ button and slipped her arm under Mason’s head again, glancing back at the TV when a roar erupted from it. “Wow, look at that. Dustin’s got that other guy on the run. I think he’s running out of breath faster than I was.”

Dustin landed several kicks and punches to the other fighter’s middle and then he let loose a string of kicks. Avery winced. She looked down at Mason and leaned close. “You really should be the one watching this. Come on, Mason—take a look. Please wake up. Please.”

She glanced back at the TV to see Dustin throw another kick. Now she could see that while Shamus had a longer reach and more size, Dustin was fast—and fit. The other fighter stumbled backwards and fell. Dustin followed him down, swinging his fists. The referee moved in and suddenly Dustin was on his feet and everyone was shouting.

Avery frowned. “What happened?”

She heard a low mumble. Her heart stopped and then thudded hard. She glanced down to see Mason’s eyes open a fraction. He wet his lips and whispered. “Won…he won. Water.”

“He won!” Avery leapt up from the bed, causing a groan to rise from Mason.

From narrowed eyes, Mason shot her a glare. Avery smiled and wrapped herself around him, soaking in his eyes. “It’s so good to see your eyes again. I missed them so much. I missed you. I’m so glad you’re awake... I thought I was going to lose you…”

“Never,” Mason croaked, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Getting up, she got him some water, calling out for the nurses to come quick.
 

“I do not need a wheelchair.”

Avery put her hands on her hips and faced Mason. “And I am not going to be able to catch you if you fall on your face. Beck’s outside with Dustin and the van. Alice and Bryant had an appointment with her OB, so you are stuck with me to get you to the door. And I will not have you spoiling the party everyone’s been holding off on having until you could get home.” She grinned. “Dustin has a surprise for you.”

Mason eyed her. His body still ached in places it shouldn’t. He had a cast on one arm, a hip sore from too many days in bed and the only thing he was sick of now was being poked, prodded, and scanned. “What about a surprise from you? You do know I remember you talking about something black and lacy.”

Her cheeks colored. She waved at the wheelchair. “The hospital wants you to use this to get to the door. Do that for them—for me—and I’ll see about a private showing of just what I was talking about.”

Reaching out, he took her hand. “You know, I’m kind of fond of cartoon characters. The sexy stuff is cool, but I’ve been dreaming about getting you home and peeling off your layers. It’s like unwrapping the best birthday present ever.”

Leaning down, she threw the long braid of her hair back over her shoulder. “If you get in the wheelchair, I can sit in your lap on the way out.”

Mason plopped himself down in the chair and patted his lap. “Okay, time to ride.” He pulled her into his lap with his good arm. She giggled and he started wheeling himself out, shouting out, coming through. They raced down the hall, barely missing an orderly with a cart. At the doors, Mason climbed out of the chair with Avery in his arms.

“Mason—put me down. You’re still recovering.”

He shook his head. “The word is recovered. Doctors gave me two thumbs up.” They’d also advised him to give up the ring. He could train, but they’d warned him that another concussion and he might never wake up. He was still trying to process that. He hadn’t told Avery, but he had told Beck—who’d flat out said it was about time Mason wised up and shifted over to training. “It’s about time you wised up. You could be making a fortune as a trainer, and dad’s getting old enough he needs someone to help out with the dojo. That’s not going to be Bryant, now that he’s hooked up with Anders, and you know I don’t have the patience for young idiots, so why are you ignoring what it’s plain to us is your real talent?”

That had stung. Mason had always thought of himself as a fighter, but now he was going to have to change his mind about that.

Setting Avery on her feet, he put his hands on her face. She smiled up at him. “Avery, Bryant said he’s putting a ring on Alice’s finger next month in ‘Vegas. What do you say we make that a double wedding?”

Her eyes widened. “Double? Isn’t that…shouldn’t we…oh, hell. Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you Mason. Today, tomorrow, next week, next month.”

He leaned down and kissed her, long and deep. She softened in his arms and gave one of those small moans he loved to hear from her. Breaking off the kiss, he said, “Do you mind if I give up fighting.”

Pulling back, she shook her head. “No. I’m not giving you ultimatums, Mason. I’m…I’m working on being positive. And if you want to fight, I want you to do what you love.”

“What if what I love is you. And…and the doctors told me I’d be smart to quit.” He told her then what the doctors had said. She listened, her lower lip caught between her teeth. That kept distracting him. He still wanted to nibble on those lips.

When he finished talking, she stepped closer and put her hands on his chest. “Mason, if you love to fight, then do that. Yes, you could get another head injury—and if that happens, I’m going to want to kick your ass. But…hell, Mason, you could get hit by a bus. Or I could. I’m done—or I’m trying to be done—with worries that hold me back.”

He grinned. “So we’re taking up sky diving lessons?”

She smiled and wound her hands around his neck. “Well, if we’re doing that, we wouldn’t have time for other things. Like hot tubs and a whole lot of time in bed.”

He tightened his hold on her waist. “Total change of plans. I’m becoming a trainer—and we’re getting married so we can work hard on producing a niece or nephew for Bryant’s kid to play with.”

Giggling, she stood on tip-toe to kiss him. “Mason, I love you. It’s crazy us getting married so fast, but I’m starting to like crazy.”

“Oh, angel, you hook up with my family you get full of crazy. Now, come on, you said there’s a celebration party for Dustin. I want cake, and the good news about being a trainer is that I can eat pretty much what I want.”

Pulling Avery with him, he headed out of the hospital. It was going to take time to get used to the idea of being a trainer—and a married man. But with Avery beside him, there wasn’t much he didn’t feel up to tackling. And after the party, the real celebration could begin. The one where he snuck into Avery’s bedroom and took his time taking off those awful sweats. He’d strip her bare and then he’d finally be able to show her just how much she really was his angel.