“Shall I leave so you two can talk? You know, since you’re such good friends.”
Wow. The arctic had suddenly made an appearance in my hospital room. I frowned as I suddenly noticed I was the only patient in the room. Marblehead had a small hospital. There was no way I’d be alone in a room. Not if I wasn’t critical.
I pressed my fingers to my forehead. A dull throb sat there, as well as in every muscle of my body. Let alone the ankle I refused to acknowledge.
One thing at a time.
I dropped my arm to the bed and opened my hand. The muscle in his jaw jumped, and his eyebrows snapped down. I wouldn’t beg, but I wouldn’t shut him out anymore.
We were both far too stubborn. Someone had to give, and I knew it had to be me. Blake was a difficult man under the best of circumstances, and these were less than ideal in any definition of the word.
I’d scared him.
I knew it.
I didn’t want to process it. I didn’t want to look too closely at any level of our relationship. Instead, I’d lived in the mystery of my grandmother’s house. I’d entrenched myself in figuring out why anyone would want to break in. I was used to worrying about my own problems, and far too familiar with being alone.
He fisted his hand under his arm before finally dropping them to his sides, then reaching for me.
Our hands locked.
“I found her diary.” My fingers tensed. “Where is it?”
“I’ve got it.”
I blinked. “Oh.”
“You dropped it on the steps,” Jack said quietly.
My gaze drifted to Jack. He was rumpled. His dress shirt open at the neck, bowtie hanging around his neck, suit jacket missing. “How?”
Jack shrugged. “It’s my job to watch out for you, Gracie.”
“No, it isn’t,” Blake muttered.
Jack dipped his fingers into his pockets. “And that’s why I figured out where she’s been, and you haven’t?”
Blake’s fingers flexed around mine.
“How long?” I asked.
Jack shrugged. “Not long after you started working for Blake.”
Blake’s head fell back.
“So, I guess it’s time for us to have a discussion about this, huh?”
Jack pursed his lips. “Might be a good time.”
“No, it isn’t.”
At a sharp knock, we all swiveled our heads to the door.
Dr. Perrault strode into the room. Some people might have thought the doctor resembled a kindly grandfather, but he was no pushover. Even Blake’s steely stare didn’t slow him down. “I need to examine the patient. Whatever discussions you’d like to have will have to be during visiting hours.”
“I’m paying for a private room,” Blake said between gritted teeth.
“And that’s why Ms. Copeland is in a very nice corner room. She needs her rest, and I need to examine her.”