“The migraine.”
“They found nothing. Speculation is all we have. And I’m feeling better, so what does it matter?”
“It’s serious.” I swallowed past the lump of alarm and disbelief in my throat. “You have something really wrong with you like cancer, and you’ve known it. You told the doctor to tell us the tests came back negative and maybe they did for everything but … cancer.”
Ronin shook his head. “No, Evie. I don’t have cancer.” Again, he extended his hand toward me, but I stayed just out of his reach.
“It’s okay.” I cleared my throat and tipped my chin up. “I know you think I can’t handle it because of my mom and the wedding chaos, but I can. I’m stronger than you think I am. Maybe I can’t ski, but I can handle bad news.”
“Evelyn …” He pushed himself up so when he bent forward his hand could reach my wrist, and he pulled me to him.
I sat on the edge of the bed while he held my hand and brushed his knuckles along my cheek with his other hand. “I know you’re strong. And if I had cancer, I would tell you. I would let you micromanage my treatment, my meals, my sleep schedule, and my exposure to environmental toxins.”
My eyes couldn’t help but roll at his words, his reference to everything I’d done for my mom since her breast cancer diagnosis.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me, Miss Taylor. I’m not making fun of you. In fact, I’m quite envious of all the attention your mom has gotten from you. And over the next few days I’m taking off to recover from whatever this was … I expect nothing short of your undivided attention. You’ll need to feed me, bring me hot tea and my favorite book. Bathe me …” He smirked. “Yes. You’ll definitely need to bathe me.”
Ronin tried his best to be fun and cute. He tried his best to ease my worry by dismissing the events of that day, but my gut rarely lied. It told me I hadn’t seen the end of whatever it was that landed him in the emergency room. However, with a doctor’s list of negative test results accompanied by a shrug, I had nothing to go on at that moment.
“I’ll take care of you.” I leaned toward him, resting my cheek on his chest as he stroked my hair.
“Thank you,” he whispered on a sigh.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Ronin
“You’re hovering.” I grinned at the page in my book, feeling the gravity of Evelyn’s gaze on me as she peeked around the corner to the bedroom. Three long days passed under the wide umbrella of her worry. I anticipated more bathing and less studying, less frowning, less wrinkled-nosed concern.
“Just seeing if you got out of the shower okay. You didn’t sing today.” She slipped into the bedroom, her bedroom. I wasn’t sure why I still kept my condo, maybe for times I needed to suffer in solitude.
“Had you been in the shower with me, then you would have known the answer to that. You might have screamed the answer to that. And I would have sang for you.”
Her cheeks turned the perfect shade of pink as she climbed into bed. I lifted my arm to let her snuggle into me, and she draped a leg over mine. Her mind refused to let go of the events that led to my days off work. My mind didn’t care about that. It was too busy planning how I would get her out of that bulky sweater and fitted jeans.
“I have to go to Denver tomorrow for my mom’s treatment.”
“I’m going back to work, so the timing is good.”
Her finger traced the tattooed script along the side of my torso. “What do you think happened to the guy you saved in the restaurant?”
“He died.”
She twisted her head to look up at me. “How do you know?”
I masked the tension—the truth—behind gritted teeth for a few seconds, regretting my knee-jerk response to her question. “Just a feeling. Most people don’t make it out of the hospital after their heart stops … even if we successfully resuscitate them. I don’t know that he died. It’s just … a feeling.”
That wasn’t a lie. I had distinct feelings, or lack thereof, that told me he died. Not right away. His heart started beating again, but it didn’t do more than prolong his pain, offering temporary hope to his family.
He died. The ringing in my ears vanished, and the pain died.
“Graham thought the CPR did something to you … like hitting a low after an adrenaline high.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Has that happened before? I mean, surely you’ve administered CPR before, either as ski patrol or for sure in your EMT training?”
“Yes. I have. But every time is different. I don’t know what happened. I’m just glad that I’m feeling better.”
I lied to the woman I loved. Maybe it was for the best that we didn’t say the actual words. Maybe I didn’t deserve to love her if I couldn’t let myself trust her with the truth.
Hinder not the soul’s intended path unto the light, lest shards of darkness shed upon thee.
The man at the lodge collapsed.
The familiar voice whispered to me.
I made a choice—a choice to be a hero or a coward.
Hero. I always chose hero.
With every compression, the ringing in my ears intensified.
The paramedics took over. I stood, breathless, watching them load the man into the back of the ambulance, watching them prepare to shock his heart again.
One, two, three …
I counted, waited for the ringing to stop or the pain to begin.
“Me too. I’m so glad you’re feeling better.” Evie kissed along my bare chest. “Is there anything I can do for you? Lunch? Want to watch a movie? The sun’s out. We could bundle up and sit on the porch for a little while, get some fresh air.”
I threaded my fingers through her hair without saying a word. Blue eyes made their way to me as her lips paused at my sternum. A look … that was it. Not a smile. Not a word. Not a flinch. She saw it in my eyes.
The need.
The desire.
The wavering edge of control.
Her long lashes brushed her cheeks with several slow blinks before she wedged her body between my legs and kissed her way down my abdomen, letting her tongue tease along my muscles to the waist of my jogging shorts.
Was it wrong of me to want this from her, given everything she had done for me?
I didn’t know. All I knew was she did it better than anyone, and I wanted it pretty fucking bad.
Her fingers curled into the material of my shorts, and she slid the front down just enough to release my cock. I drew in a slow breath and blew it out just as slowly as my lips parted—as her lips parted—taking me into her mouth.
Fuck …
Nothing felt quite like the slide of her tongue, the warmth of her mouth, the look in her eyes just before they closed—heavy and drunk.
Mine.
I’d suffer a million eternities of that unexplainable pain if it meant Evelyn Taylor would never look at another man … let her mouth do to another man what it did to me.
Mine.
Could she be mine if I didn’t give her all of myself?
Her hands inched up my abs, fingers digging into the hard muscles. She hummed with her eyes closed. I grimaced, biting my lower lip as I gently fisted her hair with my right hand while my left hand claimed a handful of the sheets, my control slipping as the need to rock my hips off the bed, sliding deeper into her mouth, warred with my instinct to not hurt her.