Nothing but Trouble

Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

THE WORLD MORPHED from black to red as hot pokers invaded my conscious. I tried to roll, to get away from the agony but it came with me, more intense with every movement.

“Stay still, Ella.” A man’s voice seeped into my brain, echoing from far away.

I stopped moving and a hand held mine. I gripped onto it, as if by squeezing I could make the pain disappear. More words filtered through, little snippets jumbling round in my brain: “Folly fell, and she came off...need an ambulance...think she’s coming round.”

I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids were heavy, as if someone had threaded tiny weights onto each eyelash to hold them closed. Damp seeped through my clothes, and with it came a chill. Was this what death felt like?

I tried to fight it, but the shadows got closer, surrounding me and blanketing my thoughts. I gave in and embraced the darkness, for with it came peace. Like a switch had been thrown, the lights went out.

Then the pain came back, needling at my side. Hands reached underneath me, and some bastard tried to drive nails into my ribcage with a hammer. An awful wail left me, then a gasp as I was lifted clear of the ground, floating skywards as if being summoned to heaven.

No, that couldn’t be right. After what I did to Grant’s car, surely I had a space reserved for me down below? My eyes popped open as I tried to work out where I was.

Connor’s face hovered above me, first ashen then blue in the flashing lights. I tried to reach out for him but he stepped back, quickly obscured by the green uniforms and high-vis jackets of the paramedics as they transferred me onto a waiting stretcher. Connor tried to follow me into the ambulance, but the paramedics blocked his way.

“We can only take the patient, sir.”

“But—”

I thought he was going to start arguing. “It’s okay,” I croaked. “I’ll be okay.”

My words were of little comfort—he still looked terrified as they closed the doors.

The lack of siren on the journey was a little disappointing, but we still arrived at A&E quickly. I hadn’t been there for years, not since my foster brother glued my fingers together the day before my ninth birthday and my foster mother spent hours complaining while we waited for a nurse to separate my hands. The furniture didn’t seem quite so big now but apart from that, nothing had changed. A doctor shone a torch in my eyes and asked me a lot of questions, most of which were irrelevant. How was the date of my last period relevant to chest pain, and why did he care what my plans were for Saturday night?

My swollen side already looked like Stevie had been at it with his painting set by the time they whisked me off for X-rays. The purple clashed horribly with the remains of my red top, and I had an awful feeling I knew what the outcome was going to be.

“You’ve fractured three ribs, Miss Goodman,” the doctor said, peering at my chart. “The good news is that they’re only small breaks, but you won’t be up to much physical activity for the next six weeks.”

Yup, it was as bad as I thought. Then it got worse.

“You’ve got a concussion as well. We’ll need to keep you in overnight to monitor the head injury. It’s lucky you were wearing a crash helmet. It took the brunt of the impact.”

Lucky? I didn’t feel lucky. I closed my eyes and took a long breath, then gagged with the pain. Okay, he was right. It could have been much, much worse. “Is there anything you can do for my ribs? Do I need a cast?”

“Nowadays we don’t tend to strap up that sort of injury. We can give you some anti-inflammatories, but apart from that, you just need to take it easy. Let the pain be your guide—if it hurts, you probably shouldn’t be doing it.”

It was all very well for him to say. Even breathing was agony, and I couldn’t very well stop doing that, could I?

When Connor arrived, he didn’t look much better than I felt. It seemed like he’d aged ten years in the space of an afternoon. He dragged the uncomfortable-looking visitor’s chair up to the side of my bed, and his fingers closed around mine, carefully avoiding the IV line sticking out the back of my hand. The top of the bed was raised, so at least I could see him properly.

“Babe, I’m so sorry.”

“What on earth for?”

“You got hurt when you were with me.”

“It was an accident. Just an accident. You couldn’t have stopped it.” I took another deep breath then immediately regretted it. “How’s Folly?”

“The vet came out and scanned her legs. She’s got an inflamed tendon so she needs a few weeks off to recover, but she’ll be okay.”

A weight lifted off my mind. I’d been worrying about her fate since I came round. “And how are you?”

“You’re the one in hospital and you’re asking how I am?”

“You look terrible.”

He managed a chuckle. “You’re stealing all my lines.”

“You still haven’t answered the question.”

“I’ve never been so terrified as when I saw you come flying past me without the horse. Every time I close my eyes I hear you scream.”

“Perhaps I was better off being unconscious.” I tried to joke, but I soon discovered laughing was out for the foreseeable future as well.

The look on his face told me he didn’t find it funny. “You wouldn’t wake up. I couldn’t make you wake up.”

“I’m awake now.” I squeezed his hand. “Please don’t think of what didn’t happen.”

“f**k, if it had been worse, I don’t know what I’d have done.”

“It wasn’t. Now stop it.”

He looked away, and I saw a hand come up to swipe at his cheek.

“Connor, I’m okay. Look at me.” He didn’t, so I gave his hand a little tug. “Look at me.”

His eyes glistened when he finally turned, and I knew right then I was seeing the real Connor. All of him, even the parts he tried to hide away under his veneer of cockiness. He might come across as having endless confidence, but underneath it he was scared.

“I’m okay,” I repeated, and not knowing what else to do, I brought his hand to my mouth and kissed it. He copied the gesture, and as his lips brushed over my skin, I knew Annabel had been talking rubbish. Connor was mine, and I was his.

The nurses let him stay half an hour past visiting time, but even his charms weren’t enough to get him a bed for the night. Four nurses escorted him to the door, and not long after that, the ward sister who’d been drooling over him helped me out with a packet of Co-codamol and told me to get some sleep.

I wasn’t sure I could, but in the end, I lay there counting the abs I imagined Connor to have in my head, and that sent me off.

The real Connor woke me as soon as visiting hours started. I’d been asleep for ages, apart from a brief moment in the night when a nurse shook me awake to check my brain was still working.

My eyes widened as I saw what he was carrying. “What did you do, rob a candy store?”

“I thought you liked chocolate?”

“I also like being a size ten, and I won’t be one for much longer if I eat that lot.”

He looked hopeful. “I could help.”

I recalled the finger-sucking incident that almost caused me to orgasm on the spot. “Okay, deal.”

A nurse offered me dry toast, and after half a slice I gave up and ate half a dozen pralines instead, each one fed to me by the man-god before me. There were definitely some advantages to being ill.

“When do you get out of here?” Connor asked.

“Later today, I hope. The doctor needs to come and check on me first.” At least, that’s what the nurse said last night after prodding all my sore bits. “Oh crap, do you know what happened to my phone?”

“It broke when you fell. Here, use mine, and I’ll get you a new one later.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m doing it anyway.”

“I’ll give you the money.”

“No, you won’t.” He fished his phone out and dropped it into my palm.

“I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Is something not clear? I’m here because I want to spend time with you. A lot of time. And in some of that time, I’m gonna buy s**t for you, and no, you’re not going to pay me back.” He guided my hand into his lap. “And for the record, I’m very much looking forward to you taking advantage of me.”

Holy s**t! Was it possible to discharge myself? I tried to shuffle further up the bed, but the vice crushing my chest was a harsh reminder that I wouldn’t be taking advantage of anything for the foreseeable future.

I groaned, and even that hurt.

“What’s up, babe? You need a nurse?”

“No, I need an orgasm, but my ribs aren’t sharing the sentiment.” I went red as soon as the words left my mouth. I seriously needed to work on my brain-to-mouth filter.

Connor laughed, then sobered up as realisation dawned. “These six weeks are going to be the most frustrating of my life. I’m gonna be ready to explode by the end of it.”

“I’m counting on it,” I murmured.

The mere anticipation left me hot, bothered and ready to ignite, and all that from a man I hadn’t even kissed yet. Oh, hell—what if he thought I was a terrible kisser? I’d only had Terry to practise with, and he wasn’t exactly Mr. Charisma. Was that why he’d turned to Demi? Maybe I kissed like a kipper and he just hadn’t told me. And, oh my gosh, what about the s*x? Terry had never been very adventurous, and I’d bet my bicycle that Connor had tried at least ninety percent of the Kama Sutra.

And speaking of Terry, was he still in my bloody summerhouse? If Connor planned to visit, and I sincerely hoped he did, I needed to get rid of Terry sooner rather than later.

“What are you thinking?” He ran a finger across my brow. “You’re giving yourself worry lines. I don’t want you to worry.”

I didn’t dare mention the s*x part. Maybe I could get a bluffer’s guide on sss? Or ring Demi for tips? Flipping heck, this was going to be a disaster. I’d finally got a hot man, and with it came a crisis of confidence of epic proportions.

And he was still looking at me, waiting for an answer. What was the question again? Oh yes, why was I worried?

“Terry’s still living in my shed,” I blurted.

His mouth hardened into a thin line. “Terry won’t be living in your shed as soon as I get there.”

My my, hello Mr. Alpha. “You won’t hurt him, will you?”

“I’ll have a chat and explain the position.”

Oh, that was okay, then.

“And if he doesn’t leave right away, I’ll tie him to the back of my truck and drag him off your property.”

I gulped. Hopefully Terry would see sense. “You have a truck?” I didn’t remember seeing one.

“Not at the moment, but as it looks like I’m gonna be spending some time in the UK, I’d better buy one, hadn’t I?” He gave me a look that would have melted my underwear off if the nurses hadn’t taken it all and given me an ugly paper gown instead.

“Uh, how is this going to work?”

“How is what going to work?”

“Us.” I whispered the word, hardly daring to believe that there was indeed an “us.”

He leaned back in the chair. “f**k, that’s gonna take a bit of sorting out. I guess we’ll go back to Jenny’s for now, if that suits you? I’ve still got three more weeks to do there, and I don’t want to let her down.”

“You think she’ll be okay with that? I’ve been nothing but trouble for both of you.”

“I know she will. She feels bad about the accident too.”

Which was how, that evening, I found myself in Jenny’s Land Rover as Connor drove very slowly back to Linden Hollow. My ribs hurt too much to wear a seatbelt, and every tiny bump caused me to wince.

When we arrived, Jenny fussed around, holding the door open and plumping up the cushions on the sofa.

“I’m so glad it wasn’t worse. When Connor called and said you’d come off badly, I’d never been so scared in my life.”

“The doctors said I’ll make a full recovery. The concussion was only mild, and the ribs will heal in a few weeks.”

“They’re bloody painful, I bet. I’ve put extra pillows on the bed. I know when I broke mine, it hurt to lie flat for a few weeks.”

“You’ve broken your ribs?”

“Four of them, and my sternum. Got double barrelled in the chest by a youngster, and I’ve never felt pain like it.”

“How long did it take for them to stop hurting?”

“Six weeks isn’t a bad estimate. You can stay here as long as you like, but I’ve let your room in the barn out from next week, I’m afraid. You’ll have to sleep in Connor’s bed, and he can take the sofa.”

I looked at the sofa, then looked at Connor, who was at least six inches longer than it. “Uh, that’s not very fair. I’m shorter, I can take the sofa.”

“You’re having the bed,” Connor said, and that was that.

For the next three weeks, I was stuck inside, surviving on a cocktail of paracetamol and Connor’s endless supply of expensive chocolates. He bought me an eReader, and I read novel after novel, devouring complicated plots and romantic heroes as if they were sustenance. Then, in the second week, I did something I never thought I’d have the courage to do. I picked up pen and paper and started writing a book of my own. Well, more of a journal, really—the story of Edith’s challenges and the complete balls up I’d managed to make of every one of them so far.

Connor spent most of his time outside. With an influx of guests, he taught from dawn to dusk, everyone from a nervous mum to a teenager who made Annabel look sweeter than candyfloss.

I got him in the evenings, though. Jenny let him off dinner after the first night, when the aforementioned teenager tried to play footsie with him under the table and ended up ramming her not-so-dainty size six right into his crotch.

“I might never have children,” he said as he walked into the house, doubled over.

I stopped myself just in time before I offered to kiss it better. My filter was improving, I was pleased to note.

That evening, I snuggled into him on the sofa which conveniently happened to be the only position that felt comfortable. “How are your…er, you know?”

“Blue.”

“I’m sorry.” I looked away, unable to meet his eyes, both out of guilt and a fear I might laugh. “This is all my fault.”

“It’s not.” He pressed his lips to my temple. “And you’re worth the wait.”

But he didn’t wait. He leaned over and laid his lips on mine, resting a hand on the back of the seat so he didn’t squash me. I gasped as he caught me by surprise then pressed back against him as my lips parted. I longed to hold him, to feel him against me, but I didn’t dare. Instead, I slid my tongue into his mouth, relishing the sweetness from the chocolate he’d just eaten as I explored.

I thought the kiss was never going to end, nor did I want it to. His tenderness surprised me, and when he did move his head, it was only to flutter soft kisses along my jawline and murmur in my ear.

“Until you’re healed up, this is what you get. After that, all bets are off.”

The happy glow spread from my chest and out to my extremities. If someone had turned the lights out, I’m sure I’d have lit up the room.

Connor managed to stick to his promise for six more days. Six days of sweet words and even sweeter kisses. As he helped me up from the sofa late one evening, I noticed he’d started moving with a stiffness absent before, and more than once I’d seen him trying to work out the kinks in his back in the morning.

He turned back the quilt for me and when I’d climbed into bed, he pulled the covers up to my chin and leaned over to kiss me good night. As he had done every day, he whispered, “May your dreams come true.”

“Make them. Stay.” I took hold of his hand and gave it a little tug.

“Are you sure?”

I wasn’t, but I nodded anyway. “Just to sleep.”

I didn’t need to say it again. He kicked off his shoes and climbed in beside me, lying flat while I propped myself up on a mountain of pillows. He entwined my fingers tightly with his, clasped against his chest. Anyone looking at us might have thought our hands were the only thing connecting us, but I knew better.

We were linked by our hearts as well.