He shook his head, his chin rocking on the back of his hand. “You’ve been taking care of me for ages,” he said. “It’s my turn.”
I smiled and my eyes started to close against the bright lights glaring down over us. No sooner had I begun to drift, then the nurse came back. She wrapped my foot, put a heavy walking boot on it, and gave me a cane.
“A cane to go with your granny sweater,” Sawyer said, pushing me to the front of the hospital in a wheelchair.
“Ha ha. Sawyer the Comedian.”
“I’m here all night, folks.”
I hoped that was true.
We took a cab home and Sawyer carried me up the two flights of stairs like it was nothing. He set me down in my place, and I gave a cry as I tried to put weight on my foot. “They said I can walk in this,” I said, holding on to his shoulder. “Do you think they lied to get me out of there?”
Without hesitation, Sawyer picked me up again, cradling me. He carried me to my bed in a corner alcove between the kitchen and the loveseat under the window, and gently set me down.
“Do you want anything?”
“Maybe some water? And then you can go and study. I don’t want to keep you.”
He shot me a small grin. “What if I want to be kept?”
“Then stay,” I said. “I do want to keep you. And I don’t want to sleep alone.”
“Me neither. I’m tired of it. And I’m just…tired.”
“Come here,” I said. “Actually, take off your suit and then come here.”
“If I take off my suit will you take off that sweater?”
“Will you stop? I love this sweater. I wear it all the time.”
“I know,” he said, bringing me the glass of water.
“Your mega-mind remembers everything I wear, doesn’t it?”
“I remember more than what you wear, Darlene,” he said, loosening his tie enough to take off. “I remember many things about you.”
“Like what?”
He removed his jacket and tossed it on the loveseat. “I remember you in the grocery store the day we met, and how you smirked at me like I was an idiot for not wanting you to cook dinner for me.”
I grinned. “Stubborn man-pride.”
Sawyer took off his pants and dress shirt, leaving him in his boxers and undershirt.
“I remember how your hands felt on my shoulders the first time you massaged me. I remember how red the cherry was that you ate at the club that night. I wanted to kiss you so badly; more than I’d ever wanted to kiss anyone. I remember how you tasted the first time I did kiss you, and secretly wondered if you’d ruined me for all other women.”
He climbed into bed beside me. Instantly, I curled into him and he wrapped his arms around me. We held each other close, my face nestled in the crook of his neck, and his chin on my head. My heart pounded to be this close to him. In bed with him, even if all we did was this.
“Why are you telling me all this?” I whispered.
“I’m trying to be romantic. How am I doing so far?”
I smiled. “Not bad. But you’ll have to continue for me to know for sure.”
Sawyer chuckled and pulled back to look at me. His eyes softened as they swept over me, like he was memorizing me over and over again, only because he wanted to. His fingers drew my face as he spoke.
“I remember every time you made me laugh when it felt like it had been ages since I’d even smiled,” Sawyer said, and his voice turned gruff over his next words. “And I remember how you held my daughter like you’d been doing it forever, and that was the first time I imagined having something more than what I had.”