“The only bed I’m going back to is my own, and you’re coming with me.”
Put like that, it was hard to resist him, but with pain still creasing his earnest eyes, I held firm until a doctor came by and took Luke’s side.
“If you’re keeping food down and steady on your feet, there’s no reason you can’t go home, though I do recommend you have someone with you for the next forty-eight hours.”
I was going to be with Luke for the rest of his life, so that wasn’t really an issue. “Are you sure he’s okay? You scanned him, didn’t you?”
“Twice,” she said. “There’s no bruising or bleeding on the brain. He will feel the effects of the concussion for a week or so, but he’ll recover, and the best place to do that is at home.”
Luke was already halfway back to his boots. The doctor vanished, taking with her another portion of the black cloud hanging over me. He’s okay. Well, he wasn’t, but he was going to be.
I helped Luke into his boots, then took his arm as we left the ward and made our way out of the hospital. In the car park, I was glad the police officer who’d pulled me over had insisted I follow him, and that Gus had parked close to the entrance. I got Luke into my car, paid an eye-watering amount for parking, then got the hell out of Dodge.
Mindful of the shit state of Buckinghamshire’s roads, I drove carefully back to Rushmere, avoiding the potholes and cracks. Beside me Luke was silent, staring out the window. I squeezed his unyielding thigh. “What are you thinking?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re miles away,” I said. “Where did you go?”
“Nowhere. I was remembering how much I hate Aylesbury.”
I laughed. “Still? You haven’t warmed to it at all after all these years?”
“Nope.”
I shook my head. Aylesbury was the closest big town to Rushmere—the place we had to go if we wanted a big supermarket or a branded store that wasn’t DIY related—but Luke had always detested it. I’d never quite figured out why.
Thankfully, Rushmere wasn’t too far away, and conscious of Luke’s desire for his own bed, I drove straight to his house. A car I didn’t recognise was on the driveway. Panic seized my chest, but Luke found my hand before it took hold.
“It’s Fran,” he said. “Park next to her.”
I did as I was told and hurried around the car to help Luke up, though he beat me to it, obviously, and was upright and waiting for me in the split second it took me to get there. “Dick.”
“You know that’s not actually my name, don’t you?”
“Prove it.”
The banter was natural...warm, and kept me on my feet as we drifted into the house. Luke had spent much of our time in the hospital dozing, but I hadn’t slept a wink. It was a state of affairs I’d grown used to in recent months, but somehow knowing Morgan Benson was in custody, at least for the next few hours, had left me weak at the knees.
Fran was in the kitchen, packing shopping away into Luke’s fridge. She gave him a cautious hug, eyeing me over his shoulder.
I eyed her right back. Our brief exchange in the hospital had been nothing more than horrified exclamations. Other than that, we hadn’t spoken in years. Not since I’d turned up on her doorstep and screamed abuse at her for driving the love of my life away. God, I was such a bitch.
Fran let Luke go and gently sent him off to the sofa. Then she came to me, and her hand on my arm didn’t feel as strange as I might’ve imagined. “How are you doing, sweetie? Can I get you anything? Tea? Something to eat?”
It was early evening and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten, but I shook my head. Having Fran run around after me was too weird, even for a day like this. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Sure about that?”
“Yup.”
Fran sighed. “It doesn’t have to be this way, you know.”
“What?”
“Between us. Honey, Luke loves you so much, it would mean the world to me if we could get to know each other again.”
The permanence of her statement hit me in soft waves. It had been a while since I’d last doubted how much Luke loved me, but until now, perhaps I hadn’t stopped long enough to consider what it meant. A new life in Rushmere had been my last resort, my worst nightmare come true, but I couldn’t imagine a world without him by my side. The decade we’d spent apart seemed as though it belonged in someone else’s life.
I squeezed Fran’s hand. “I’d like that.”
After she’d gone, I tracked Luke through the house and found him upstairs rather than in the living room. He was stripping the clothes the hospital had sent him home in—they’d cut his jeans away. The sun was setting, casting a shadow across Luke’s bedroom. I didn’t get a good look at his torso until I was a foot away from him.
I stopped dead, caught in the vortex of the vicious bruising marking Luke’s body. Black and blue, skin torn and grazed, it was hard to imagine how he hadn’t been killed.
A gasp lodged in my throat as he turned to face me. The bruise over his broken ribs was even worse, but he was with me before the scream escaped my lungs, kissing me, holding me, whispering soothing nonsense in my ears until I realised the wretched sobbing surrounding us was coming from me.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Luke
I woke first, caught in a contradictory haze of being in agony, and horny as hell. Mia was still asleep, wrapped up in her coat, blond hair splayed over my pillow. I itched to rouse her, strip her clothes, and bundle her into my bed properly, but I didn’t dare wake her. The memory of her crying herself to sleep would haunt me forever, and I wasn’t ready to face the pain her eyes again just yet.
Besides, a glance at the clock told me we’d only been asleep an hour. If I could just get comfortable and ignore the steel column my dick had turned into, I’d—
A knock at the front door made me jump, and then groan loud enough to wake Mia. She raised her head, her pretty blue eyes bloodshot and drawn. “What is it? Are you okay?”
Grimacing, I pointed downstairs and forced myself upright. “Someone’s at the door.”
“I’ll get it.”
“No!”
God no. I was in no state to fight, but I’d kill whoever was on the other side of that door before they got to her.
“Luke, it’s okay.” Mia got in between me and the bedroom door. “It’s Rebecca. I’m so sorry, I forgot she was coming.”