Maryn stirred and muttered, “How crappy do they look?”
“You’re actually looking really good, ma’am. I’m grateful they weren’t deeper. Is your pain manageable?”
“Sure, if you’re a sado-masochist.”
Braxton gave a grunt that almost sounded like a laugh. Maryn didn’t respond again, so she must’ve fallen back to sleep. “She’s an interesting one, isn’t she?” Braxton said.
“Sure, if you’re into gorgeous, funny, blonde reporters,” Tuck said then instantly regretted his words as Braxton arched an eyebrow. He could’ve sworn that Maryn smiled.
Braxton packed up his supplies, nodded to Tucker then left the room. Tucker settled in to wait for Maryn to awaken again. It was slow going. The morphine must’ve worn off in the early afternoon because she started moaning a bit more and then she opened her eyes, focused on Tucker and whispered, “It hurts.”
Tucker was tempted to give her more of Braxton’s contraband morphine. “The doctor wanted us to ease you off the morphine and try something else. Are you allergic to any pain meds?”
“No.”
“Okay, let’s try the stronger of the two then.” He took the cup with the OxyContin in it, grateful it was also a smaller pill. Now the trouble was to get her vertical enough to swallow a pill.
She pushed with her arm to try to lift herself up and cried out.
“Wait,” Tucker begged. He hurried to the bed and held on to her uninjured right side and lifted her up just enough before handing her first the pill and then the water bottle.
She swallowed it quickly and he settled her back onto her side. “Thank you.”
The blanket had slipped down, revealing a very nice shape and a red and white swirled bra. How had Tucker not noticed that last night? He looked away. “Can I… adjust anything to make you more comfortable?”
“Um.” She glanced down and then lifted the sheet back over her abdomen. “I need to use the bathroom and it would be heaven to get out of these pants. They feel like they’re sewn to my butt.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. She phrased things in a way that was so uniquely Maryn. “Okay. I’ll get Mama Porter and we’ll get you to the bathroom then she can help you… take care of stuff. Johnson brought your bag from your car.”
“That’s crack-a-lackin. Thank you.”
He ran to the panel on the wall, and depressed the button for the kitchen. “Mama, she’s awake and needs help using the bathroom.” He couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice. Maryn was fully awake and using her funny expressions. She was going to be okay. Maybe he’d get a chance to talk to her soon. If he begged her forgiveness would it ever come? His heart sank. He couldn’t forgive himself for Afghanistan so what made him think she could forgive him? And she was a reporter. Of course she’d want to know all about the photographs or make up her own story based on incomplete data.
Mama Porter huffed into the room, obviously having run up the stairs. All this drama was giving her more exercise than she’d had in years. “Oh, darling girl, you’re awake.”
Maryn smiled at her. “I think sleep hurt less. Wanna knock me out again?”
Tucker grinned, but sobered quickly, he hated her being in pain.
“Oh, I’ll bet you’re hurting, but you’re going to heal up just fine. Now let’s get you up and into the bathroom. I can’t believe you’ve waited this long to go.”
“I’ve got the bladder of a camel,” Maryn said.
Tucker laughed.
Mama Porter shook her head, smiling. “Well, I guess that’s a good thing. Now Tuck, lift her up, gently, gently.”
Tucker placed his hands under Maryn’s armpits and along her upper back, careful to avoid looking at or touching anything he shouldn’t, and easily lifted her onto her feet. She grimaced but said, “Thank you. That hurt a lot less than me trying to strain.”
He held onto her arm on one side and Mama Porter braced her on the other. They made it into his master bath and the women went into the private toilet. Tucker hurried back to the bedroom and grabbed her bag. He opened it to find her something more comfortable to wear, but blushed when he pulled out a pair of bright blue, silky underwear. This woman certainly liked color. Closing the bag, he set it on the counter and hurried out of the bathroom. He shut the door and waited on the other side. He’d go in if they needed him, but he didn’t want to make Maryn, or himself, uncomfortable. Her bra wasn’t any more revealing than many swimsuits he’d seen, but he hadn’t been around a beautiful woman in a while. That had to account for his awkwardness.
Maryn let out some obvious squeaks of pain, but Mama Porter’s soothing voice came through and he found himself grateful Maryn was so small and Mama was so solid. He listened as water ran and counted the seconds until he could help somehow.
“Tuck,” Mama called out.
Tucker opened the door and found Maryn dressed in a pair of pink and green plaid pajama bottoms and a loose-fitted green tank top. Her face was washed clean of the makeup smudges and Mama was securing her long hair in a ponytail. She looked fresh and gorgeous.
“I think we’ve worn her out,” Mama Porter said. “Can you lift her without touching her stitches?”