Age of Ava by Melanie Moreland

Chapter 20

Hunter

All night, I prowled the house, too keyed up to sleep. The sound of the rain that came and went agitated me. The box sitting on the coffee table mocked me. Ava’s words echoed in my head on a persistent loop.

“He wrote you. Every birthday. Every Christmas.”

That information shocked me. My mother had told me all my life my grandparents wanted nothing to do with me. Later on, she said they were dead. I was still grappling with that lie, and now there was a very good chance she had lied again.

Maybe everything she had ever told me was a lie.

I stared at the box, my feet refusing to take me closer.

What was in those envelopes?

Why had my grandfather written me so many letters?

I scrubbed my face as the most burning question blazed through my brain.

Why had I sent Ava away?

I should have told her another time or that I wasn’t ready. She would have shut the lid and left it alone. I knew that. But I had reacted to the panicked, sick feeling in my stomach and lashed out.

The hurt on her face had been obvious. My choice of words couldn’t have been deadlier. With that short sentence, I had devastated her.

“No. They’re personal.”

The words had come out without thinking. My usual way of avoidance. Push people away. Don’t let them get close. Never show your emotions.

And I feared the contents of that innocuous-looking box would break me, and I didn’t want her to see that. I let her walk away. Blow my entire world apart. And somehow, I knew she wouldn’t return.

And I wasn’t sure how to deal with that either.

I drained the coffee cup in my hand and set the mug down with a loud thunk.

I picked up the box and carried it to the table. Swallowing, I opened the lid, staring at the envelopes. I lifted out the first pile, noting the date in the corner. Slowly, I sorted the envelopes. There was one for my birthday and one for Christmas every year, starting when I would have been six and going until I turned twenty-one. After that, there was one a year, those envelopes different-looking. They resembled a letter, slightly thicker than the others. Once I was finished, the box was empty except for a larger manila envelope dated last year and the small pile of letters between my grandparents.

With shaking hands, I opened the first envelope. It was a child’s birthday card with a fire truck and colorful words on the front. Inside was a crisp five-dollar bill, the paper currency no longer even in circulation anymore. It was signed by my grandfather with a simple message.

We love you and miss you, Hunter.

Gram and Gramps xx

The Christmas card was much the same. Another short message, but this time a crisp ten-dollar bill.

We hope to have you with us soon.

All our love, Gram and Gramps xx

I opened all the cards slowly, taking in all the details. They changed to reflect me growing older. By the time I would have been sixteen, the fives had been replaced with tens, and the Christmas cards contained crisp twenties. But there was a card to mark each passing birthday and Christmas. Each one a hopeful note of seeing me soon.

None of this made sense. I didn’t understand. If they had loved me, why would my mother have told me differently? She never seemed to want me, so why didn’t she leave me here with them? I knew I had lived here, at least for a short time. She could have gone on with her life instead of dragging me around with her. She never really made a secret that, at times, she found me a burden. Why had she told me they were dead?

I shook my head, rubbing my eyes. A headache was beginning to form. I looked up, surprised to see how many hours had passed since I started looking at the box. The early morning sun was weak, barely breaking through the clouds, but the rain had stopped for now.

I stood, looking at the cards. I had them open on the table, displayed like you would on your birthday. The bright colors mocked me, out of place with the drab surroundings and my fractured mood. There was a small pile of cash and more envelopes to open, but I felt weary. Worn-out as if I’d been running a marathon.

I needed a distraction. I needed to get the tarp on the roof. I knew the rain would get heavier later, and water had already pooled in the pans I had set out. I didn’t want any further damage to have to repair. I would do the tarps, then have a shower and go back to the envelopes. The air outside would help clear my head so I could concentrate again.

I strapped on my tool belt and yanked a hoodie over my head. Cash, who had been sleeping while I sat at the table, stood by the front door, his tail wagging. He didn’t like the rain much, but he’d wander the yard a little, then sit on the porch while I was working. I slipped on my sneakers, needing the grip the soles would provide.

The air outside was heavy with humidity, the branches on the trees dripping with moisture. I turned on the boom box on the porch, the sounds of Hall & Oates filling the air and breaking the perpetual silence around me. I set up the ladder, grabbed the tarps, and headed up.

The roof was slick, and I carefully made my way over to the damaged area and began to work. It was slow going, the wind just annoying enough to pick up the edges and move them as I drove nails into the tarp to keep the protective layer in place. The drizzle began again, and I cursed under my breath every time I slipped on the wet tiles. Once again, Ava’s words came to mind, and I recalled rejecting her offer of asking Ronan or Liam for help. The job would have gone faster.

I finished the largest problem, then carefully made my way over to the other one. Smaller, but higher on the peak, it would be even more difficult. The wind began to pick up, the rain becoming heavier. I shivered as my clothing grew damp and the wind blew the rain into my face. Knowing it was only going to get worse, I cursed again but kept going. Slowly, I fitted the tarp over the damaged area, nailing as I went. My hands grew tired, and my mind drifted. I kept seeing Ava’s face. The hurt I had caused her. The fact that I had let her walk away. I should have called after her. I should have dragged her into my arms and begged her forgiveness. Allowed her to see the real reason for lashing out. Shared my fear. I constantly underestimated her. She would have understood and forgiven me. She would have sat with me while I opened the cards. Being Ava, she somehow would have helped me find the joy in the contents of the box instead of only adding to my confusion.

I was so deep inside my thoughts, I made a mistake. I stretched to nail a section I had missed, allowing my foot to rest on the tarp instead of the roofing tile. The slick, wet surface moved under my weight, throwing me off-balance. I grabbed for the chimney that was close by, the brick crumbling under my fingers. For a moment, I teetered, then stumbled, falling to the roof and hitting my head. I tumbled and rolled, grasping at air. The force of my body hitting it sent the ladder flying, and then I was airborne, the cold all around me. I braced for impact, the breath leaving my body as I hit the ground, my ankle twisting under me. Pain exploded in my torso, extending down my arms and legs. My head felt as if it had been struck with a sledgehammer, and for a moment, the world around me faded and grew black.

The feel of Cash’s great head nudging me and his distressed whimpers brought me around. I blinked, pain hitting me. With a groan, I slowly pulled myself onto my knees. I lifted my head, the agony making me hiss. I was in front of the house, about six feet from the porch. Beside me was a sawhorse I had narrowly missed landing on. Even as I used it, it took everything in me to pull myself up to my feet, the torture of the movements bringing tears to my eyes. I knew I had to get inside. My left arm hung useless at my side, and I was pretty sure I’d broken some ribs. I felt the blood dripping down my neck, and I lifted a shaky hand to my head, wincing at the cut I could feel. My ankle felt as if it was on fire with every tentative step I took. I dragged the sawhorse with me, needing to lean on it to go forward.

I looked like a drunk trying to reach the porch, the ground swaying before my gaze. I stumbled and shook, finally making it to the steps. Cash was beside me, his whimpers growing louder.

“So…s’o-okay…boy,” I stuttered. “Good. We’re…good.”

I managed to climb the steps, grunting and groaning at the pain. I only had to get to the door and inside. My cell phone was on the bench, charging, and I would call 9-1-1 and get help. Everything would be fine.

Except my foot caught the edge of the top step, and I went down like a sack of potatoes. I hit the edge of the table as I went over, the boom box hitting the steps as it fell, the music becoming disjointed then silent as it sat in the rain. I lay on the porch, shivering and unable to move. Cash’s whimpers grew into sharp, frightened barks. I attempted to lift my hand to touch him, bring him comfort, but the action was impossible.

With a low groan, I succumbed, and the world around me went dark.

* * *

Ava

I blinked, my eyes feeling heavy. They were dry and weary. I tried to concentrate on the words on the page, but they floated away, much like my concentration.

I hadn’t slept much after leaving Hunter’s. I showered when I got home, needing the heat. Hoping the water would wash away the feeling of rejection. But I felt it staining my skin. He went so quickly from being a teasing, warm lover to a man encased in walls so thick, I would never be able to penetrate them. I didn’t understand.

I didn’t know if I ever would.

My phone rang, and I answered, hearing the pleasant voice of Milly Johnson on the other end.

“Ava, dear, you left an envelope behind yesterday. I’m sorry I’ve been so busy I haven’t called until now.”

“Oh,” I responded. “I was wondering where that was,” I lied. I hadn’t even opened my bag this morning. I glanced at the clock. It was already past one. I had accomplished nothing, done nothing this morning but stare at my desk. I shook my head to clear it.

“I’ll pop around this afternoon and pick it up.”

“All right.”

I hung up, making a decision. It was an awful day outside. Blustery and cold. The rain was hitting the window not in drops but waves of water. It matched my mood.

I slipped on my coat and poked my head into Robert’s office. He looked up from the files he was studying. “I’m going back to city hall. I left a file there I need. Then I’m going home to work. I-I have a headache,” I lied again.

“You look pale,” he agreed. “I think everyone is hiding with this weather today, so it’s quiet. You head home, I’ll hold down the fort. We have nothing scheduled this afternoon.”

“Great. See you tomorrow.”

I managed to get out of the office without running into Gracie or Addi. They’d know I was lying, and I didn’t feel like talking. Talking would lead to crying, and I had done enough of that.

The parking lot was deserted at city hall, and I rushed in, the rain never letting up. Milly handed me my envelope with a smile.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice yesterday.”

I shook my head. “It’s fine. Gave me an excuse to get out of the office.”

“I expect to see your neighbor today. I called him to tell him his permit was approved and ready.”

I forced a smile to my face. “He must have been pleased.”

“He didn’t answer his cell phone. I left a message. He’s been so anxious about it, I thought he’d be here right away. The rain must be keeping him inside.”

“I guess so.”

I left and hurried back to my SUV. I pushed aside my worry. Hunter always kept his cell phone on him. He also forgot to charge it at times, so he might have missed the call. I glanced at the sky. Surely he wasn’t out there working in this weather?

I shook my head. Hunter was a grown man, and he knew what he was doing. He was probably busy inside somewhere. He always stayed busy.

I drove home and parked in the garage, entering the house. I kicked off my shoes and quickly changed into warm sweats and a long-sleeved shirt in my room. I tugged a cardigan over my arms as I padded toward the kitchen. I needed something hot to ward off the chill.

But as I plugged in the kettle, I heard a commotion on my back steps. Startled, I turned to see Cash jumping at the door, barking and whining. I opened the door, and he burst in, his fur wet, winding around my legs, obviously agitated. I dropped to my knees in front of him.

“Cash. What is it?” I ran my hands over him, but he seemed to be unhurt. He growled low in his throat, pushing at me. I glanced over my shoulder, a feeling of dread washing over me.

“Is it Hunter?” I asked.

Cash’s ears lay flat, and he barked, the sounds frantic. I pulled on my sneakers and grabbed a rain jacket off the hook, remembering my cell phone.

I followed Cash as fast as I could go with the ground so wet. I cursed myself more than once. I should have driven, but I was so panicked I wasn’t thinking straight.

The first thing I saw as I rounded the house was the ladder lying on the ground. Then the boom box in pieces scattered on the grass. I headed to the porch, gasping in horror at the sight in front of me.

Hunter, unconscious, his clothing dripping with rain, blood on his head and clothes. I dropped to my knees, running my hands over him, calling his name. His lips were blue, his skin a pasty white. I felt along his neck, finding his pulse. Weak and slow but it was there.

“Stay with me, Hunter,” I begged. “Please.” He didn’t stir.

I was shaking so hard, I dropped the phone twice before I was able to punch in 9-1-1. I managed to tell the woman who answered the address and what I thought had happened.

“He fell off the roof. He’s unconscious and not responding. Please,” I begged. “He’s so cold and needs help.”

“The ambulance has been dispatched, ma’am. Do you have a blanket you can put on him without moving him?”

“Yes.” I rushed inside, grabbing the blanket that still was on the floor from last night. I draped it over him. I dropped my cell phone and leaned close.

“Help is coming, Hunter. I’m here. I’m right here, baby. Stay strong.”

He didn’t move or respond. Tears filled my eyes, and the sound of an approaching ambulance broke through my muddled mind. “You’re going to be fine,” I assured him, wiping my eyes. “And when you are, I’m going to kick your ass for doing this.”

* * *

I watched, anxious and fearful, as they examined Hunter, started an IV, and carefully placed him on a stretcher. I was certain I saw him grimace as they moved him. As they loaded him into the ambulance, I put Cash in the house, quickly toweling him off, then I hurried to get inside the ambulance with Hunter. I held his cold hand the entire way, leaning close to whisper to him that everything was going to fine and I was there. I had no idea if he heard me, but I kept talking.

At the hospital, I stood in the waiting room, dripping water on the floor, shaking from cold and worry. A kind nurse came over and handed me a dry blanket. “Someone will be out about your fiancé soon, dear. We need his health card and some other information, though.”

“I’ll get it,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure how, but I would.

I stood, facing the doors they’d taken Hunter through, knowing I should move. Aware I needed to put the blanket she gave me around my shoulders. But my feet wouldn’t move.

Until I heard a voice say my name.

“Ava?”

I turned and met my brother Ronan’s confused gaze. He was with Beth, and they were frowning as they looked at me. In fast strides, Ronan was by my side.

“Why are you here? Are you hurt?” He took the blanket from my hands. “You’re wet.” He draped it over my shoulders, using the end to blot my hair. “Ava?” He looked at Beth, worry etched on his face. “She’s not talking.”

“She’s upset, Ronan,” Beth assured him, taking my arm and leading me to a chair. “Ava, what happened?”

My teeth began to chatter. “Hunter. Hunter is hurt.”

Ronan crouched by my feet. “What happened?”

“He-he fell off the roof, I think.”

Ronan cursed. “What the hell was he doing on the roof on a day like today?”

Tears filled my eyes, and I shook my head. “I don’t know. I have to get his health card. And Cash is alone. My car is at home.” A sob escaped my mouth. “I don’t know how badly he’s hurt.”

Ronan straightened and said something to Beth. He sat beside me, pulling me into his side. Beth hurried down the hall.

Ronan hugged me close. “It’s okay, Ava. We’re here, and we’ll figure it out.”

I burrowed into his side, his warmth welcome. A few moments later, Beth appeared, a bag in hand. “Here is some coffee and a set of dry scrubs. You change. Ronan will go to Hunter’s and get his ID and Cash. He can stay with us. Evan will love it.” She spoke to Ronan. “Go to Ava’s and get her dry clothes and shoes. Socks too. I’ll sit with her until you come back.”

He pressed a kiss to my head. “Any idea where I’ll find his wallet?”

“It’s always by the front door or on his dresser. It’s brown.”

“Okay. Give me the keys.”

I handed him the keys I’d taken from Hunter’s front door. He knew the code for my lock.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Beth tugged on my arm. “Go change before you catch pneumonia. I’ll be here.”

I nodded and shuffled to the bathroom. I used the blanket to dry my skin, shivering as I tugged on the scrubs. My socks were soaked, so I rolled them up with my wet things. The sneakers were wet as well, but there was nothing I could do about that right now.

Beth was waiting when I returned, another dry blanket in hand. “Take off your shoes and sit with your feet under you. You’ll warm up faster.”

I did as she instructed, grateful for the warm blanket. I sipped the horrible coffee, ignoring the taste and appreciating the heat.

The nurse I had spoken to came out to tell me the doctors were with my fiancé and they were doing some tests. I told her my brother had gone to get the health card for me. She left, promising me an update soon.

Beth tucked the blanket back up around my shoulders. “Your fiancé?” she asked quietly. “Is there something I should know?”

I shook my head. “That was the only way they would let me in the ambulance or tell me anything.”

She nodded, watching me closely.

“But you love him,” she said simply.

I met her eyes, her dark-brown gaze soft and sympathetic.

“Yes,” I admitted. “I do.”

She patted my hand.

“We’ll get through this.”

I nodded, praying she was right.

* * *

Ronan returned, and I gave the information to the desk. I was able to fill in most of the questions, although a few I was unsure of. I couldn’t recall seeing any medications in his bathroom, nor could I recall him mentioning any allergies. I only prayed I was right. I confessed we’d been together just a short time and I was unsure, so she made some notes on the chart.

I felt better, dressed in my own clothes and fresh dry socks and shoes. I was calmer knowing Hunter was being looked after by professionals.

I convinced Ronan and Beth to leave, promising I would call. They had to get home to Evan and look after Cash. When I inquired why they were in the hospital, it turned out Beth had burned her hand and Ronan wanted it looked at, the overprotective husband he was. She held up the appendage, showing me the bandage.

“Hardly needed,” she whispered. “I think they just put it on to shut him up.”

“I heard that,” he said dryly.

“You were meant to. You scared them, I think, acting all big and hulky.”

“Hmmph,” was his only reply.

“You call me when you’re ready to come home. I’ll come get you,” Ronan assured me.

I waved them off and sat in the waiting room. I paced a bit, sat, checked my phone, stared at Hunter’s cell phone, which Ronan had grabbed. It was password-protected, but the lock screen made me smile. It was a picture he’d taken of me sitting on the porch with Cash beside me, my head leaning on him. It occurred to me that meant something. What, I wasn’t sure, but somehow, I knew it did.

They finally came to get me, and I was able to speak with a doctor. In Hunter’s room, I swallowed my nerves as I looked at him. His head was bandaged, his arm in a sling, and there was a boot on his leg. His face was bruised and swollen.

I stood beside the bed, aching to touch him, terrified to hurt him. The doctor introduced himself.

“I’m Dr. Michaels. Your fiancé has suffered a major fall. His shoulder was dislocated. He has two broken ribs, a badly sprained ankle, and a concussion. Not to mention the contusions and cuts from the fall itself. His core temperature was low when you brought him in, indicating he’d been lying outside for a few hours in the cold.” He closed the tablet with a snap. “He’s lucky it’s not worse and you found him when you did. We brought up his temperature slowly, and he’s woken up a few times. He knew his name, although he was a little fuzzy on other details. We’ll monitor him for the next twenty-four hours.”

I laid my hand on Hunter’s uninjured arm. “Oh, Hunter,” I whispered. “You foolish man.”

Dr. Michaels smiled at me. “He did say your name a few times. Talk to him. Let him know you’re here. It will bring him some comfort. I’ll check in again in a short while.”

“Thank you,” I said, not looking up from Hunter’s bruised face.

The doctor left, the door swinging closed slowly behind him. The only sounds in the room were the low beeps of the machines, Hunter’s slow, steady breathing, and my own short breaths. Seeing him like this, lying there hurt and bruised, scared me. He was always so vital and strong. Independent and in control. He was going to need help to recover. To be cared for and looked after.

And I was going to be the one to do it.

No matter how hard he fought against me.

* * *

Hunter

My eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to focus in the dimness around me. The room was unfamiliar, the dull beige walls and industrial ceiling not those of my bedroom. I peered around, taking in the machines, the IV, and the medicinal smell.

This was a hospital room.

Why was I in a hospital?

Fractured memories hit. The roof. The tarp. Slipping. Rolling. Grasping at air. The green of the ground as it rushed up to meet me. The impact. The long, painful process to get to the porch.

And then nothing.

Except, in my mind, there was a voice. A sweet, warm voice I knew. Telling me she was there. That everything would be okay. Begging me to stay. Whispering…I love you?

Slowly, I turned my head, and there she was.

Ava.

She was asleep in a chair close to the bed, her hand wrapped around mine, her other arm tucked under her head. She looked like a pretzel in the chair, and I could only imagine how stiff she would be when she woke up.

How long had I been here?

I swallowed, my throat feeling thick and dry. I attempted to lift my arm but realized it was in a sling. I groaned as my body reacted to my movement, and Ava sat upright, instantly alert.

She stood, hovering over me, our eyes locked. Hers were red-rimmed and weary, the usually bright hue of her irises dull and worried. Her face was pale, and her bottom lip looked as if she’d bitten it for hours on end.

“Hi,” I managed to rasp out.

“Hunter,” she whispered, her hands fluttering as if wanting to touch me but unsure. Strangely, I needed to feel her touch. I needed her to connect me back to this moment.

“Please,” I asked, unable to say the words.

She cupped my face, her skin cool against mine. I sighed in relief and leaned into her caress.

“Wh-what happened?” I asked.

“You fell off the roof. I found you,” she said simply.

I cleared my throat, closing my eyes in gratitude as she slipped an ice chip between my lips. The cold eased the dry feeling, and I opened my eyes. “More.”

She fed me a few, waiting patiently as each one melted before giving me another.

“You found me?” I asked.

“Cash showed up at my back door. He was frantic. I followed him to your place and found you on the porch—” she swallowed deeply “—ice cold, bleeding, and unconscious.” She had to swallow again. “I called the ambulance.”

The lingering fear and worry were plain in her voice.

“I’m sorry.”

She lifted her gaze to mine, her eyes blazing. “Once you’ve recovered, we’re going to discuss you being up on the roof on a rainy day, alone, without a safety harness. But not now.” She patted my arm. “Right now, I’m simply grateful you’re still here.” She straightened. “I’m going to go let them know you’re awake.”

“Ava—”

She cut me off. “They think I’m your fiancée. It was the only way I could stay here. So, until further notice, we’re engaged. You got that?”

I blinked at her words. “Okay.”

“I told them you weren’t on any medications I knew of and you weren’t allergic to anything. Was I wrong?”

“No.”

“Okay. I’ll go get the doctor.”

I captured her hand before she could leave. “Tell me what my injuries are. I have a massive headache, so I assume a concussion?”

She nodded. “Broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, sprained ankle, concussion, contusions, and cuts.” Her voice shook. “If I hadn’t found you, Hunter…” Her words ended on a sob.

I tugged her closer, trying not to wince at the jolt of pain it caused. “I’m sorry, Little Dragon. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

She pulled against me. “I have to get the doctor.”

“No, wait a second. Just stay with me for a minute. Please.”

She sat down, wrapping her hands around mine. She rested her forehead against our clasped fingers, and I knew she was crying.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” I repeated. “And I’m sorry for being an ass to you.” I flexed my fingers, even that simple action causing me pain. “I do that.”

“You mean, act like an asshole?” She sniffled.

“Yes.”

She wiped her cheeks. “You do it well.”

I met her eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. I really am.”

She stood. “Actions speak louder than words. If you’re sorry about being an asshole, there’s a simple solution. Stop being one. I’m going to go get the doctor.”

I watched her leave, my lips quirking of their own violation. She was pissed at me.

With a groan, I closed my eyes. I was pissed at myself. I never should have been up on that roof.

Now, I was injured. But the question was, what was next?

* * *

I had my answer fairly quickly. Dr. Michaels went over my injuries in more detail than Ava, his manner calm and direct.

“You’ll be out of the sling in a few days, although the shoulder will ache for a while. The ribs will take six to eight weeks to heal. Your ankle, four weeks. We did a CT scan of your head and it looked fine, but you’ll probably have a headache for several days. I won’t lie. You’re going to feel like you got hit by a freight train for the next while. Your recovery will be a slow one. We’ll keep you another day, then you can be released to your fiancée here, who assures me you’ll be well cared for. We’ll follow up as an outpatient.”

Hearing the word fiancée was a jolt even though Ava had explained her reasons to me. It was his other statement, though, that hit me.

“How slow will this be? When can I walk?”

“No weight-bearing on the ankle for two weeks.”

“It’s a sprain. I’ve had them before.”

He shook his head. “This is a bad one. I’m shocked it’s not broken. You will recover from all of your injuries, Mr. Owens, but they’re going to take time. You rush it, you could do further damage. Believe me, the first time you try to move, you’ll understand.”

He paused by the door, talking to Ava in a quiet voice. I blew out a long breath. If I was being honest, I already understood. Lifting my head felt as if a marching band were inside my skull. As I tried to shift, my entire body ached. My shoulder felt as if it was on fire, and my ribs screamed if I took in too deep a breath. I could only imagine what fun sitting up was going to be.

Gentle fingers across my brow brought me out of my musings. Ava peered down at me. “Do you need more pain meds?”

“I think so.”

“Okay, I’ll ask the nurse for some.”

She began to leave, and I grabbed at her hand. “You’re coming back, right?” I asked, suddenly anxious.

“I am.”

“Good. That’s good,” I mumbled, letting my eyes shut. The darkness was a relief. The feel of Ava’s lips on my cheek was soft and fleeting, but intensely comforting.

I couldn’t delve into the reason behind that comfort. At least, not right now.

* * *

I slept on and off, immediately looking for Ava when my eyes would open. She was always there, sitting in the chair, her knees drawn up to her chest. She would take my hand in comfort as if sensing my need.

My head felt clearer later in the day, and when I woke, Ava was speaking with a woman. She held a clipboard and was asking Ava about my situation when I left the hospital. Ava’s voice was firm when she spoke.

“He’ll be staying with me. Any therapy or appointments he requires will be looked after.”

Neither woman noticed I was awake. I wanted to speak up and object to Ava’s remark, but I stayed quiet.

“He’ll need a lot of care at first,” the woman pointed out.

“I’m aware. It will get less as he heals. I’ll get additional help as needed.”

They went into the hall, and I frowned. Ava was going to look after me? I wanted to tell them I didn’t need help, but I knew that was a lie. I couldn’t move without pain, and there was no way I could look after myself. But I didn’t want that burden on Ava either.

She came back into the room, meeting my eyes. “You’re awake.”

“I can’t ask you to look after me.”

“Good thing you didn’t ask, then.”

“Ava—”

She held up her hand, stopping me. “Hunter, you can’t go home. You can’t be alone. I have a guest room with a walk-in shower. I can work from home most of the time and there are lots of people in the compound who will step in when I have to go to work.”

“You expect your family to care for me?” I shook my head. “Not happening.”

She leaned over me, her gaze serious, her tone firm. “It can happen and it will. You can’t be alone. How would you even care for Cash? Stop being so stubborn, Hunter. You won’t be able to walk on your own for a while. You can’t use crutches until the shoulder heals. And then how would you get around? Your ribs will be so sore, you won’t be able to cook or get dressed on your own. So, it’s either a rehab hospital in Toronto or at the house with me. They’ll send someone to bathe you for the first while. In a few weeks, once you’ve recovered, we’ll see what happens. But until then, I’m in charge. Got it?”

I wanted to argue, but everything she said made sense.

“After the way I treated you, why would you want to?” I asked.

She sat down, shaking her head. “I don’t know, but I have to. I can’t tell you what it did to me seeing you lying on the porch, bleeding and injured.” Her voice broke, and she was quiet for a moment. “I don’t understand you sometimes, Hunter. But frankly, I don’t think you understand yourself either.”

She slipped her hand into mine. “You’re hurt, and that hurts me. I want to help you get better because I care. I care about you.” She met my eyes. “We need to leave it at that for now. You won’t be released until at least tomorrow, and you’re coming home with me.”

I hated seeing the worry in her eyes. Knowing how upset she’d been. How strong she was being for me. “Okay, Little Dragon. I don’t think I’ll be a very good patient, though.”

She rolled her eyes. “I already figured that out.”

I sighed, shocked at how much a simple conversation sapped me of my strength. I felt Ava’s fingers stroking along my brow. Her touch was light and gentle, bringing with it relief and warmth. I leaned into her caress, drifting.

She touched her lips to my cheek, the scent of her chasing away the medicinal smell and replacing it with the lingering notes of flowers, citrus, and her.

It lulled me back to sleep.

* * *

Ava

I peeked in on Hunter. He was asleep, his head turned into the pillow, the rise and fall of his chest steady. He had been a surprisingly docile patient since I’d brought him home with me four days ago. He slept a lot. His body needed to rest to recover. He hated being reliant on me—on anyone—for help, so he asked for very little. It zapped all his energy to get out of bed and be helped to the bathroom for a shower. Ralph, the nurse who came to help him, was friendly and pleasant, and Hunter was polite, although I could tell he hated requiring the aid. I knew once he got stronger, he would refuse it.

I sat at the kitchen table, looking over my lists. Addi had been shocked when I’d informed her I would be working between home and the office for a while, although she understood when she heard about Hunter’s accident. I had spoken to Robert, who assured me that between us, nothing would get missed. My parents had been to the house once they found out, checking in on Hunter and making sure we were all right the first day I brought him home.

“All of us can help,” Mom soothed me. “You figure out your schedule. There are enough of us, we can sit with Hunter while you go to work or do errands.” She reached out, clasping my hand. “You have to look after yourself as well.”

“I know,” I assured her. “I am.”

“You look tired.”

“It’s been a little stressful.”

She squeezed my fingers. “I know.” She met my eyes. “Seeing someone we love hurt is always difficult.”

I felt a tremor go through me. “Am I that obvious?” I whispered.

“No. But I know my daughter. I see a lot of myself in you. A lot of your father in him. He is not an easy man to love.”

I shook my head. “That’s the problem, Mom. He is easy to love.”

“I suppose it’s not easy for him to accept it, then.”

I nodded, then felt the tears I’d been holding back gather in my eyes. “I was so scared, Mom. Seeing him lying there, how still he was. The blood. How frantic Cash was.” I wiped my eyes. “I thought—” I swallowed. “I thought he…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.

“I know, but he’s not. He’s here, and he’ll be fine, thanks to you.”

I nodded. “He will be.”

Dad walked in, bringing Cash with him. He’d taken him outside to throw a ball with him for a while. Cash was wagging his tail, his head up. He’d been so excited to see Hunter, making whimpering noises in the back of his throat and wanting Hunter’s attention.

“We need a dog, Sunshine.”

“Maybe when you retire. In the meantime, you can look after Cash.”

I smiled at the memory. By the next day, my fridge was full of casseroles and easy dinners. There was a list of people wanting to take Cash for a walk or to play with him, and I had no shortage of bodies willing to sit with Hunter when I had to go to the office or run errands. My family rallied, the way they always did when someone needed help. I was grateful, and Hunter…well, Hunter was confused. All the caring and generosity were alien to him. He was polite with everyone, but he held himself back. A part of me wondered if he would be comfortable in a place that was home to me. If he would ever find a place to be comfortable enough to call home. The thought of him leaving, wandering to yet another destination, searching for something he couldn’t put into words hurt my heart, but I knew there was nothing I could do to hold him. If I held too tight, he would leave all that much sooner.

I heard movement down the hall, and I rose from the chair, shaking my head to clear my thoughts. I stopped and poured a glass of the iced tea Emmy had brought. Hunter loved it, and I was going to have to call her and ask for more.

I peeked into his room with a smile. Cash was next to the bed, his great head resting on the mattress as Hunter stroked it. Cash had rarely left his side since they were reunited. Cash’s relief and joy were evident at seeing Hunter. He sensed, as animals did, that Hunter was hurt and stayed close. In turn, Hunter had praised Cash quietly, thanking him for coming to get me.

“You saved me, boy. You saved me,” he murmured, patting his haunches and stroking his head. “Good boy.”

I tapped on the door, and Hunter looked up from his half-supine position on the bed. I knew how much effort that small movement cost him.

“It’s your house, Little Dragon. You don’t have to knock.” He smiled easily, his smile growing as he saw what I was carrying.

I stepped in, handing him the iced tea and sitting in the chair beside the bed. “Just being polite.”

He drank deeply, his eyes crinkling in enjoyment. “I have no idea what your aunt puts in that, but I swear I’m addicted.”

“She adds a bunch of fruit juices. Bentley is crazy about it—we all are—she makes it all the time.” I took the glass from his hand and put it on the table. “She’ll bring more.”

He smiled, and I leaned over, brushing the hair off his forehead. He seemed to love my touches, always leaning into them as if he wanted closer. He watched me all the time, his gaze following me around the room, his attention focused on me whenever I was close. His color was better today, the bruising already fading thanks to the cream I rubbed on his skin.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.”

I lifted my eyebrows and pursed my lips. He chuckled.

“I’m okay. The ankle isn’t hurting as much, and my shoulder feels okay. I think we can get rid of the sling today.”

“Tomorrow. The doctor said tomorrow.”

Hunter shook his head, stubborn and determined. “He said sooner if it felt better. It feels better, and I want the damn thing off.”

Our eyes locked in a battle of wills.

“If you don’t help me, I’ll do it myself.”

I rolled my eyes. He would.

Standing, I unclipped the band around his neck and helped him ease his arm out of the sling. He grimaced a little then relaxed against the pillow. “That feels better.”

“Don’t try to do too much.”

He cracked open an eye. “What do you think I’m going to do, Ava? Jump out of bed and start swinging a hammer? I know I can’t do anything much. It’s just a relief to have that thing off my neck.” He sighed. “The crutch is next. I can’t do much about the ribs, though.”

“They will heal. You have to give them time.”

He stared out the window. “I know.” His gaze drifted to mine. “Did I hear Ronan’s voice earlier?”

I swallowed. “Yes.”

“Why do you look so guilty?”

“He finished tarping the roof for you.”

Hunter frowned. “Oh.”

“I didn’t want you to worry about it. More rain is forecast.”

He was quiet, then nodded. “Thank you.” He took my hand. “I mean it. Thank you.” He hesitated. “Did he, ah, go inside?”

“Yes.”

He grimaced.

“So did I. The other day when I went to get you some clothes.”

“Oh,” he said again. “So, you saw them? The cards?”

“Yes. I knew they were private, so I gathered them up with all the money that was there and put them back in the box.” I indicated the door behind me. “It’s in the closet over there, safe. Ronan didn’t see them.”

“Okay. Good.” He fell silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was quiet.

“Every year,” he mused. “Every birthday, every Christmas. Why would he do that?” He met my eyes. “I don’t understand. If he didn’t care, why would he do that?”

“I think the point is that he did care, Hunter. He saved them for you, hoping he could give them to you one day.”

“Why would my mother lie about that?” A frown marred his face. “She never really wanted me, so why didn’t she let them have me if they did care?”

“I don’t know.” I paused. “I saw you hadn’t finished opening the envelopes. Maybe the ones that look like letters would explain things?”

“Maybe.”

“I could get them for you if you wanted.”

He shook his head, suddenly looking exhausted. “Not now. I can’t right now.”

“Okay.”

I stood, running my hand across his brow. “Okay. Rest. We can talk about it later.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “Later.”

The next moment, he was out. I kept stroking his head, wondering if there would be a later, or if, like other things, he would choose to ignore what was staring him in the face and continue on a path he thought he had to be on. I stepped back and left the room, pulling the door closed behind me. Only time would tell.

* * *

Hunter

I sat up slowly, trying not to groan. My room was dark, and a breeze coming in the window felt good on my skin. Cash raised his head, looking at me, then with a huff, lay back down. I wondered what day it was. Time had ceased having much meaning. It felt as if it had been months since I’d left the hospital, even though I knew it had only been a matter of a couple of weeks. I rolled my shoulder, still feeling the tweak of pain from the healing injury. I tested my ankle, grateful to be out of the boot, even though the limb continued to protest when I walked. I still relied on the crutch a great deal of time. The cuts and bruises were healing thanks to whatever stuff Ava insisted on rubbing on them daily. The worst part was the ribs. They would be the slowest thing to heal and caused me the most pain. Any sudden movement, any unexpected cough or sneeze, caused a vortex of pain I had never experienced before. The doctor told me I was lucky that a rib hadn’t pierced my lungs or done further injury. That I should be grateful I hadn’t done permanent damage to my spine. He had lectured me about being on the roof and cautioned me about wearing safety equipment. Ava seemed pleased at my dressing-down, but it was nothing compared to her lecture once she took me back to her house and got me settled. I knew it was brewing in the car on the way to her place and braced myself for when she blew.

It started off calmly enough.

“So, while we’re on the subject, why did you choose to go on the roof on such a rainy day?”

I lifted my eyebrows. I hadn’t been aware we were on that subject. Or any subject, really, since she hadn’t spoken to me since we left the hospital.

“I needed a distraction.”

Her voice dripped with sarcasm. “And you thought the best distraction was to climb a ladder during the rain and nail down tarps on a slippery roof?”

“It wasn’t raining when I went up. It was a fast job—or at least it was supposed to be. I didn’t want the water seeping into the house again.”

“And God forbid you ask for help. Call my brothers, who offered. Because asking for help makes people think you need them, and you can’t have that—right, Hunter?”

There was no mistaking the anger in her voice. I chose to ignore the last part of her sentence.

“I really didn’t think I needed any help. Fifteen minutes, job done. I didn’t expect to fall. I’ve done things a lot more dangerous than that.”

That was the wrong thing to say. She slammed her hands on her hips and didn’t stop talking for ten minutes. I let her talk, knowing she needed to get it out. I listened to her lecture about safety on the jobsite. Never working on projects alone. The precautions her company insisted on taking with every crew member. She knew what she was talking about. I agreed with her on all points—which only seemed to make her angrier.

“I agree with you. It was stupid. But I didn’t plan on falling.”

“I didn’t plan on finding you covered in blood and unconscious either,” she snapped.

I held out my hand. “Come here, Little Dragon.”

“No,” she refused.

“Please.”

“I’m not finished.”

I crooked my fingers. “Please.”

When she was close enough, I took her hands and pulled her down beside me on the bed. She sat gingerly, always concerned about causing me pain by jostling me.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you, and I know I did. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and I shouldn’t have been on the roof. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. Trust me, I’m paying for it. But you can’t keep being mad.”

She sniffled a little. “I want to kick your ass so bad.”

I slipped my fingers under her chin. “When I’m healed, I’ll let you. Until then, what can I do to make it up?”

She looked away, then stood. “If I can’t be mad, you can’t be mad either.”

“Why would I be mad?”

She took a deep breath. “I picked up your permit and sent a crew to your house to do the work.”

I gaped at her. “What?”

“You can’t do it. Not now, not in a few weeks. You were going to hire an outside company to do some work. I hired us on your behalf. Van is overseeing it.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes, waiting for the fight.

I waited for my explosion of anger. For the words to fly from my mouth that would hurt her. To deny her the assistance we both knew I required.

But nothing came. There was a strange relief in knowing I wouldn’t have to face the roof before I was ready. To climb a ladder before my leg was strong and my ribs healed. An odd sensation flooded my chest. I felt cared for. Seen. It was as if Ava somehow knew my worries and simply took care of them.

“I’d like to talk to Van. Ronan, as well.”

She blinked. “I can arrange that.”

I held out my hand again, waiting until she took it.

“Thank you.”

Her smile could light the whole city.

“You’re welcome.”

The conversation drifted through my head as I sat in the dark. I still couldn’t explain my lack of anger. Ronan and Van came to the house, and we talked. Agreed on a figure. A timeline. I was shocked when Ronan showed me pictures of what had already been done. He grinned.

“Van and his boys don’t mess around. Our crews are the best in the business.”

I was very calm about it all.

The reason had to be Ava. How could I possibly be mad at her? From the moment I had woken up in the hospital, she had been there. At my side. Caring for me like no one had ever done in my life. She fussed and worried. Her family did the same. Some days, the house felt as if it had a revolving door of people coming and going to check on me. On her. On us. I should hate it, yet I didn’t. It confused me, filled me with a sense of awe. Ava accepted it as normal. It was as abnormal to me as caring for someone. And I realized, I did care for Ava—more than I expected to. More than I wanted to.

And she was the reason I wasn’t asleep. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Knowing she was down the hall, close, yet not close enough, was keeping me awake.

I needed to see her.

Carefully, I eased off the bed, holding in the moan. Even after many long days of recovery, I shuffled like an old man down the hall. I refused to use the crutch since I didn’t want to disturb Ava. I only wanted to see her.

Except, before I made it to her door, she was there, worried and anxious. “Hunter, what’s wrong?”

The words were out before I could stop them. “You know why I sleep so much in the daytime?”

“Because you’re recovering?”

“Because I know you’re close. You’ll come check on me. Talk to me. I lie in that bed every night, wishing I could see you.”

“Why didn’t you call me? Ring the bell?” she asked quietly. “I would have come to you.”

“I won’t use a bell to call you. I just wanted to look in and see you.”

She shook her head. “Stubborn man.” Taking my hand, she tugged. “Come on.”

She led me back to the room, lifting the covers. I slid in, a groan escaping at the movement. She didn’t say anything but went to the other side of the bed and crawled in, lying beside me but not touching.

“Better?” she asked.

I found her hand, enfolding it in mine. “Almost. Can you come closer?”

She slid over, careful not to press on me. She laid her head on my shoulder and found my hand again, entwining our fingers. “Now?”

I turned my head and breathed her in. “Much better.”

The room was quiet for a moment.

“You know, coming down the hall to look at me is a little stalkerish, Hunter.”

“I need something to fill the time. Stalking seemed easy. We’re both in the house, so I don’t have to go far.”

She chuckled then became serious. “You really can’t sleep because you’re longing for me?”

“Longing for you? That sounds a little old-fashioned.”

“Ah, the heroes in my historical romances often long for their ladies. Pine for them. One of my favorites is Demon Winter in Winter’s Widow. His longing for his ladylove is quite touching.”

The name of the book was familiar, so I had probably read it to her one night. Historical romance. I knew she loved it. All the women in her family did. She loved it when I read them to her, and I had to admit, they were pretty steamy, although some of the heroes made me laugh. Love like that didn’t exist.

“Sorry to kill your buzz, but I’m not longing,” I snorted.

“What would you call it?”

“I’m…horny.”

She burst out laughing. “Horny? If I so much as tried to touch you, you’d scream.”

“I could hold still. Let you do all the work.” I was teasing, having only wanted to change the subject from longing, but it was backfiring on me.

“Hunter, you are never still in bed. Ever. Even when your cock is in my mouth, your hips and pelvis move, your back arches, your legs shift and bend, and your arms are in perpetual motion. Never mind the shivering and shaking.” She tapped the air like a touch pad. “Scream, scream, scream. And not one pleasurable one in the lot.”

She was right, of course, except talking about my dick in her mouth made me harden.

“I really move that much?”

She pressed a light kiss to my shoulder. “You do. It’s incredibly sexy the way you express yourself with your body.”

“Well, now I am really horny. I was just teasing before.”

“Something to shoot for, then,” she murmured. “Your dick in my mouth.” She yawned. “Incentive.”

The room grew quiet, and soon her breathing became deep and regular, wafting over my skin. Her hair tickled my shoulder, and the soft, sexy scent of her filled my nose. My body relaxed of its own accord, feeling her warmth soaking into me. She was right. I moved a lot during sex. Sex with her. Everything was heightened when we were together. Touches, scents, tastes. My body felt alive under her touch. She brought that out in me. Once again, she was unique.

And right now, she also brought me peace. That feeling was even rarer.

I closed my eyes and fell asleep.