Ashlyn was lying on the white sheets, and she had more color in her cheeks than the last time he’d seen her, being wheeled away toward the ambulance. She had IVs in both arms and an oxygen cannula in her nose. But she wasn’t intubated, and almost looked like she was just resting peacefully, instead of like a woman who’d almost died.
Slate didn’t bother with the chair, he took her hand in his and leaned in close.
“Hey, babe,” he whispered.
To his surprise, her eyes immediately popped open. Her mouth moved, but no words escaped her lips.
“I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as your brown eyes,” Slate told her.
“Slate,” she whispered.
“I’m here,” he reassured her.
“Tell me,” she ordered.
“Tell you what?” Slate asked.
“What happened. I’m okay?”
“You’re okay,” he quickly said. “You were shot, but the bullet missed your heart. Did some damage to your lung though. The doctors patched you up, and you’ll be as good as new soon.”
Ashlyn smiled. “I think you’re leaving a lot of stuff out.”
He was and he wasn’t. “Nope. Just summing it up as quickly as possible for you.”
“James?” she asked.
“He’s fine. Ingested some sleeping pills, but not enough to keep him down for long. The guys arranged for him to stay at a hotel while the police finish with the investigation at his house, and they’ll make sure it’s cleaned up and ready for him to return as soon as possible.”
“Good. Aiden?”
Figured she’d be worried about the asshole who’d shot her.
“Dead,” Slate said succinctly.
“Don’t care. Will you get in trouble?” she asked.
Slate’s lips twitched. All right then, guess she wasn’t worried about Aiden, after all. “No. It was self-defense.”
“Okay.” Then she croaked, “You’re bossy.”
Slate’s brows came down in confusion. Not because he didn’t think he was bossy, he definitely was, but he wasn’t sure why Ashlyn had mentioned that now. “Yeah,” he agreed.
“You yelled at me when I was in the operating room. I was asleep, but wasn’t. You told me to fight. I didn’t want to. I hurt. But you wouldn’t get out of my head. Ordering me to suck it up and come back to you. I think I’m mad at you…”
Tears immediately welled in Slate’s eyes. He’d cried more today than he could ever remember crying in the past. But he wasn’t ashamed. How could he be? “You can be mad, babe. But I’m proud of you for not giving in. You’re gonna be all right now. I’m here, and I’m gonna make sure of it.”
“Love you, Slate.”
“And I love you, Ashlyn. Go ahead and close your eyes and get some sleep. I’ll be back later to check on you.”
Ashlyn nodded and her eyes slid closed. Then they popped open, as if she’d thought of something.
“What? What is it, babe?”
“You sure it’s okay for me to close my eyes? You said I couldn’t.”
“That was before. You’re good now,” Slate said, trying to control the wavering of his voice.
His reassurance seemed to be all she needed to hear, because her eyes closed again and she sighed before her breathing deepened.
Slate stood over her for several minutes, watching her breathe, and silently crying as he did so. Then he took a deep breath, rubbed his face on his sleeve, and leaned over Ashlyn once more. He kissed her gently on the lips before standing. He placed her hand on the bed and turned to leave the small cubicle area.
Slate stopped short at seeing three nurses staring at him from the entrance.
“The second she woke up from the surgery, she was asking for you,” one said.
“She wouldn’t settle until we reassured her over and over that you were all right,” another added.
“Her heart rate is slower now,” the third observed, nodding toward the monitor.
Slate nodded at them, not surprised in the least. His Ashlyn was one hell of a fighter, and it was so like her to want to make sure he was all right when she was the one who’d been shot and had almost died on the surgical table.
She was going to be all right. So was he. They had the rest of their lives to spend together, and Slate vowed not to squander one day of it.
He left the ICU in a much better mood than he’d entered it. Seeing Ashlyn had done wonders for his psyche. The next couple of weeks would be tough, her recovery wouldn’t be easy, but together they’d get through it, stronger both mentally and as a couple for the experience.
A smile crossed his face for the first time since he’d said goodbye to her that morning.
EPILOGUE
Four months later
Ashlyn lay in the dim bedroom, waiting for Slate to come to bed. She was determined to get their lives back to normal. And normal meant sex. She was ready. More than ready. But Slate was being overly cautious, not wanting to do anything that might cause her pain.
She’d had a checkup with the doctor today, and he’d told them both that she could resume normal activities…including sex. He’d followed up that statement with a warning that he wouldn’t recommend sky diving or scuba diving for a while still, but since neither of those things were on Ashlyn’s agenda, she was more than happy to agree.
While she more than appreciated Slate’s attentiveness over the last few months, she was done being treated like she was made of glass.
During the last few weeks, Slate had relented a fraction, allowing her to use her hands to get him off, and giving her slow, easy orgasms with his fingers. But he’d refused to make love with her, saying that if he did anything to cause her an iota of pain, he’d never forgive himself.
But tonight, after the doctor had officially cleared her, Ashlyn was done waiting. She wanted her man.
Slate entered the room quietly, obviously thinking she was already asleep. He went into the bathroom and came out a couple minutes later wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts.
The second he climbed under the covers, Ashlyn moved. She threw one leg over his hips, straddling him. She’d purposely stripped off all her clothes before climbing under the covers.
Arching her back a bit, Ashlyn stared down at Slate and dared him to refuse her.
Slate inhaled deeply, and his hands came up to grip her hips.
“I love you,” she said softly.
“I love you too,” Slate returned immediately.
“It’s time, Slate. What happened sucked…but I’m fine. Perfect. You heard the doctor today. I want to make love with my boyfriend.”
“Fiancé,” he corrected.
Ashlyn rolled her eyes. Whenever he introduced her to anyone, he always called her his fiancée. But he’d yet to make that status official.
She held up her left hand and made a big deal out of looking at her bare finger. “Huh, look at that,” she said in mock-amazement. “My finger seems to be naked.”
It was a running joke between them. Ashlyn had every intention of marrying the man, but it was fun to give him shit for assuming she’d marry him before he’d even popped the question.