hung up without saying good-bye. Wheezie pulled the phone from her ear and felt relieved when it appeared to hang up on its own. Suddenly feeling foolish for her bad behavior, she turned to thank the bum for his help.
The words died on her lips.
The man had disappeared.
Chapter Ten
J ac hated hospitals. They reminded her of the state home she and Bailey had lived in for a month—all sterile and squeaky-clean with hard, uncomfortable beds and bad wall art. The picture across from her bed was of huge white dandelions. Who wanted to look at weeds when they were sick? Of course she wasn’t sick. Or even that badly injured. She had tried to explain this to the emergency room doctor, but he’d refused to listen and insisted she be admitted for more tests.
“I see they’ve got you all settled.” Gerald swept into the room, his arms loaded with snacks and magazines. He’d arrived at the hospital earlier, but since she had been on her way to get the MRI, they hadn’t had a chance to talk. Not that Jac was talking to him. She was still mad at him for exposing the truth of her pregnancy to the EMT who’d then exposed it to the one man she didn’t want to know.
“I bought you some KitKats,” Gerald said. “I would’ve gotten you M&M’s, but I thought it might bring up bad memories.” When she remained mute, he meticulously organized the snacks and magazines on the hospital tray in front of her. “Okay, so I’m sorry I spilled the baby beans to the paramedic, but I was only concerned for your health. And if you remember correctly, it wasn’t my idea to walk into that deathtrap of a building.”
Picking up a KitKat, Jac carefully unwrapped it and snapped off a bar. Then she took a big bite and slowly chewed as she stared at the ugly dandelion picture. With a shrug Gerald grabbed one of the magazines and sat down in the chair to wait her out. Since she’d never been good at the silent treatment, it didn’t take long.
“Well, how was I supposed to know that a thermos would fall from the sky?” She took another bite of chocolate and wafer. “Which should make you and Bailey rethink the entire Mr. Darby situation. Freak accidents don’t just happen.”
“They do if you’re dumb enough to walk into a construction site without a hard hat.” Gerald flipped through the magazine. “But you’re right, maybe it wasn’t an accident. Maybe it was God’s way of knocking all those wild fantasies out of your head.”
It had done the trick. Jac now realized that Patrick wasn’t a misunderstood vampire with good self-control. Or a tortured Scottish warrior with talented fingers. He was just a man. A man she knew all too well. Not from one night of phenomenal sex, but from years of watching all the men her mama had dated parade through their life like ducks in a carnival target shoot. Patrick wore the same faded blue jeans and work boots. Had the same overdeveloped biceps and pecs. And had the same arrogance and overbearing attitude.
But now she understood how her mama had fallen head over heels for alpha men. The way Patrick had swept her up in his arms had fed all of Jac’s romantic fantasies. No man had ever swept her up in his arms before. Bradford had caught her once when she’d tripped in her six-inch Christian Louboutins, but he had just sort of pushed her upright. Patrick had effortlessly lifted her and carried her back to his trailer like she weighed no more than any other woman.
She had to admit that she liked the way his muscled arms had felt tucked around her back and legs. The way the hard angles of his face had been shaded beneath his hard hat. And the way his hair had gleamed gold in the sunlight. It was longer than she’d remembered, the ends brushing her hands that she’d looped around his neck. Beneath the side of her breast she had felt his heartbeat, a strong, steady thump that spoke of virile health. But the romantic fantasy had ended the moment he put her down on the couch and turned
The words died on her lips.
The man had disappeared.
Chapter Ten
J ac hated hospitals. They reminded her of the state home she and Bailey had lived in for a month—all sterile and squeaky-clean with hard, uncomfortable beds and bad wall art. The picture across from her bed was of huge white dandelions. Who wanted to look at weeds when they were sick? Of course she wasn’t sick. Or even that badly injured. She had tried to explain this to the emergency room doctor, but he’d refused to listen and insisted she be admitted for more tests.
“I see they’ve got you all settled.” Gerald swept into the room, his arms loaded with snacks and magazines. He’d arrived at the hospital earlier, but since she had been on her way to get the MRI, they hadn’t had a chance to talk. Not that Jac was talking to him. She was still mad at him for exposing the truth of her pregnancy to the EMT who’d then exposed it to the one man she didn’t want to know.
“I bought you some KitKats,” Gerald said. “I would’ve gotten you M&M’s, but I thought it might bring up bad memories.” When she remained mute, he meticulously organized the snacks and magazines on the hospital tray in front of her. “Okay, so I’m sorry I spilled the baby beans to the paramedic, but I was only concerned for your health. And if you remember correctly, it wasn’t my idea to walk into that deathtrap of a building.”
Picking up a KitKat, Jac carefully unwrapped it and snapped off a bar. Then she took a big bite and slowly chewed as she stared at the ugly dandelion picture. With a shrug Gerald grabbed one of the magazines and sat down in the chair to wait her out. Since she’d never been good at the silent treatment, it didn’t take long.
“Well, how was I supposed to know that a thermos would fall from the sky?” She took another bite of chocolate and wafer. “Which should make you and Bailey rethink the entire Mr. Darby situation. Freak accidents don’t just happen.”
“They do if you’re dumb enough to walk into a construction site without a hard hat.” Gerald flipped through the magazine. “But you’re right, maybe it wasn’t an accident. Maybe it was God’s way of knocking all those wild fantasies out of your head.”
It had done the trick. Jac now realized that Patrick wasn’t a misunderstood vampire with good self-control. Or a tortured Scottish warrior with talented fingers. He was just a man. A man she knew all too well. Not from one night of phenomenal sex, but from years of watching all the men her mama had dated parade through their life like ducks in a carnival target shoot. Patrick wore the same faded blue jeans and work boots. Had the same overdeveloped biceps and pecs. And had the same arrogance and overbearing attitude.
But now she understood how her mama had fallen head over heels for alpha men. The way Patrick had swept her up in his arms had fed all of Jac’s romantic fantasies. No man had ever swept her up in his arms before. Bradford had caught her once when she’d tripped in her six-inch Christian Louboutins, but he had just sort of pushed her upright. Patrick had effortlessly lifted her and carried her back to his trailer like she weighed no more than any other woman.
She had to admit that she liked the way his muscled arms had felt tucked around her back and legs. The way the hard angles of his face had been shaded beneath his hard hat. And the way his hair had gleamed gold in the sunlight. It was longer than she’d remembered, the ends brushing her hands that she’d looped around his neck. Beneath the side of her breast she had felt his heartbeat, a strong, steady thump that spoke of virile health. But the romantic fantasy had ended the moment he put her down on the couch and turned
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