Jules blinked. GSW? Didn’t that meangunshot wound? She frowned, an action that made her head hurt more. Touching her hand to her temple, she winced then looked at the blood on her fingers. She was bleeding?
Cal’s hand covered the stinging spot on her side, and she yelped when he applied pressure. She reached down to touch her aching side and found a sticky wetness there as well. More blood on her hand.
She was bleeding.Shewas bleeding. She wasbleeding! Finally, her stunned mind began to clear, and the situation crystalized with frightening understanding. Now, the belated buzz of adrenaline and fear flooded her gut. Nausea swamped her. Her head throbbed.
She angled her head to look into Cal’s face. Her fingers reached for him and gripped a fistful of his shirt. “I’ve been shot?”
After tucking his phone between his ear and shoulder, he used his free hand to gently stroke the uninjured side of her face. “Hang on, Jules. Help is on the way.”
“Stay…with me. Please, don’t leave.” She put her hand on his, and he laced his fingers with hers, squeezing firmly.
“No chance, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”
Tears puddled in her eyes for reasons she couldn’t explain. But when she closed her eyes, breathing slowly and clinging to Cal’s hand, an unfamiliar peace settled in her heart.
“CT doesn’t show any concussion or internal bleeding,” Dr. Ryan Palmer, the physician on duty at the emergency room, said a few hours later. “The GSW in your side wasn’t deep, and the bulletonly grazed you, leaving a flesh wound. I’ll stitch it up in just a moment, but we’ll want to irrigate and disinfect the wound first.”
After a knock at the exam room door, Dr. Jonathon Colton peeked into the room. “May I come in? Cal asked me to check on you and give him a report.”
“He didn’t want to come back himself?” Jules asked, missing his hand to hold and his smile to reassure her.
“He does, but since he’s not family, permission has to come from you and your doctor,” Jonathon said.
“Please, send him back,” she said, glancing to Dr. Palmer for confirmation.
“Okay by me, now that your assessment is complete,” Dr. Palmer said, nodding to the nurse with an unspoken request to allow Cal access.
Dr. Palmer consulted her test results again. “I’m prescribing an antibiotic to prevent infection at the bullet wound. Also, plenty of rest for at least a day or two and someone to stay with you just in case that knock to the head proves more serious than the CT shows.”
She frowned, then caught her breath when the cut on her temple pulled again. Why couldn’t she remember to keep her face still? “That could be difficult,” she told Dr. Palmer. “I live alone.”
The nurse returned with Cal, who rushed to her side. “Hi. How are you? Geez, you gave me a scare!”
“And you promised not to leave me,” she said, hearing the petulance in her tone.
“The hospital staff wouldn’t—”
“I know,” she said, cutting him off and forcing a crooked grin at odds with her stinging tone. “I just…” Rather than voice the truth—that she’d missed him, wanted him—she laced her fingers with his and bit her bottom lip to choke back the rise of emotion.
Cal’s father said, “Ryan was just telling Jules that she needs rest and some TLC. What do you think of having her stay with us for a few days, since she doesn’t have a roommate?”
Cal’s eyes never left Jules’s. “I was thinking much the same out in the waiting room. For her safety as much as her recovery. If those drug dealers got a good look at her…” He cut the thought short. “Well, I just want her where we can keep an eye on her, for several reasons. Like she said, I promised to stay with her.”
Jules grunted, reverting to grumpy-mode. Staying in control of her emotions was easier if she presented a stern, sarcastic version of herself. “You’re talking about me, deciding things about me, as if I’m not here and don’t have a say in the matter.”
“You object to the plan?” Cal asked, pulling a chair closer to the side of the hospital bed.
Jules opened her mouth, prepared to object to the men deciding a plan for her, but she caught the words before they slipped out. Shedidwant to stay with Cal and Jonathon. Not only was their beautiful homewaynicer than the motel, but the shooting had rattled her. Deeply. The idea of going back to her lonely motel room, where the masked man had attacked her a few days ago, unsettled her. She swallowed hard and twisted her mouth as if considering. “What about Joy? I can’t leave my cat behind.”
“Your cat? So you’ve decided to keep her, have you?” Cal said with a knowing grin that set her teeth on edge.
Darn him!Did he have to be so smug and…rightall the time?
Cal sent his father a consulting glance. “I have no objections to a cat. Do you?”
Jonathon shrugged. “Why not? The more the merrier.”
“Are you sure?” Her pulse ticked faster, anticipating the move to the Coltons’ home. What had she gotten herself into? Was she really going to live with these two bachelors, a large dog and a wild kitten? She hadn’t cohabited with anyone since sharing herdorm room in college. The idea both thrilled her and flustered her.
