Roger and Evan got stuck coming in, each trying to beat the other to get in first and growling at each other. Alpha males fighting for supremacy. Something like that. A tray of coffees and pastries made her mouth water. Marshall had managed to sneak in a few more substantial meals, but that was only when Colette could convince him to leave her to get some real food. He watched over her like a mother hen, constantly reacting to her slightest noise, movement, or change in breathing.
It was…a lot.
If she had ever doubted whether their relationship was serious, that uncertainty disappeared when he helped her go to the washroom for the first time. Or the time he helped her shower and washed her hair. The tenderness with which he brushed her tangled curls brought tears to her eyes every time she thought about it.
In relationships, there was romantic love, and then there was that deep kind of love where you knew that person would do absolutely anything for you. It wasn’t showy or glamorous; it was a sentinel protecting you in your most challenging seasons. Though they hadn’t been together long, Colette knew. His every action filled her with overwhelming certainty that he would be there when she needed him. This deep down knowing that theirs was a forever kind of love. The kind of love that snuck up on you quietly, filled all the empty spaces within, and settled in to stay. It would be impossible to replicate with anyone else.
Frankie remarked upon it every time she visited. How he fought to stay with her, bothered the nurses too much with his multitude of concerns, and watched over her lovingly as she slept. Her recovery was narrated by his soothing voice as he read through her romance novels. He hated reading the sex scenes, his cheeks flushing each time one came up, but Colette insisted. It helped her heal faster.
So, he read them.
And she healed faster. She would never admit otherwise.
Her friends introduced themselves to her parents, and her mother, in true Frankie Slip fashion, squealed as she threw her arms around Evan.
Tears welled up in the woman’s eyes as she rubbed his cheek.
“Our angel Evan. You were so brave trying to save our baby girl,” Frankie said, wrapping her arms around him again. Evan blushed at her attention, clearing his throat.
“I would do it again in a heartbeat,” he said, shaking Rupert Slip’s hand. “We always take care of our own at Rosebud Ranch.”
“Are you okay? Did you sustain any injuries? Was it terribly frightening? Oh, you must have been so brave to want to go into that house when it was on fire. Were you burned?” Frankie’s questions poured out of her mouth like a stampede of cattle at feeding time.
“Mom!” Colette chirped from the bed. “Leave the man alone. He’s not prepared for that many questions.”
Gobsmacked, Evan’s gaze darted between Colette and Frankie, unsure how to react. “Jarrett got me in the head really good, but I’m okay now. Don’t worry about me.”
Frankie gave a small laugh and pressed a hand to her chest. “Of course, thank you so much, Evan. We can never show you how grateful we are for your bravery. And yours, well, you know that already, Marshall.”
“Mom, leave them,” Colette insisted.
“Now, Colette, if your mom wants to tell everyone I’m a hero, I don’t mind at all,” Evan said, his hands on his hips and his chest puffed up with pride. “Or, sorry—Angel. She said I was an angel. I like it.” He nodded; a wide grin plastered across his face.
Colette rolled her eyes and accepted the drink Marshall handed to her. He sat on the edge of the bed, his thigh brushing up against her leg. As she recovered and the pain lessened, he had relaxed, reaching out to touch or cuddle her more confidently. Her hand instinctively reached for his on the blanket and he gave her a knowing smile.
She wasn’t sure what the future would look like yet, but she knew they would be together.
“So, do you have a cool scar to show off?” Evan asked, approaching the bed.
Aurora hid a giggle behind her hand.
“She’s not taking her shirt off, pervert,” Marshall warned.
Evan scoffed. “Of course not, but like maybe just a little peek?”
“No,” Marshall said with a glare.
“I do have a cool scar, and I’m still scared to touch it too much. The infection is healing up nicely, but it’s not completely gone,” Colette explained. “I’ll show you later.” She winked and Evan grinned conspiratorially, quite pleased.
“Are you ready to come home with me after you sign the papers?” Simone asked.
“Yeah, it’ll be a real slumber party,” Colette said with a laugh. “We can do each other’s hair, and you can help me change my bandage. A real blast.”
“I got your back, Slip,” Simone said, rubbing a hand on Colette’s shoulder. They had decided it was best if Colette stayed with someone while she recovered and she reluctantly agreed to use Simone and Roger’s guest room for a few days. Only a few.
She was itching to be alone with Marshall. To have some quiet.
“You could still come stay with us, Colette. It’s not too late to change your mind,” Frankie noted, eyebrows lifting to the ceiling. Colette shook her head.
