Page 27

CHAPTER

TWENTY-SIX

FORD

“She’s awake Mr. Remington. You can come back and see her,” a nurse says from the waiting room door.

I’ve been sitting in this chair at the hospital for over an hour, waiting to hear word that Amber’s procedure is finished. It’s a good thing I got a haircut the other day, otherwise it would look insane from how much I’ve been running my hands through it.

“Thank you,” I reply, grabbing my overnight bag and standing.

As I reach the door between the waiting area and the recovery room, the nurse holds it open so I can pass through.

“The procedure went well, and Amber is doing great,” she says.

I can’t remember her name. I don’t think I have the brain capacity today to learn any new names. The only name running through my head is Amber .

I nod and follow her down the hallway. We arrive in front of an open door, and the nurse steps aside, allowing me to enter first. Slowly, I walk toward the bed. Amber’s sleepy eyes blink a few times, like she’s trying to clear something from them.

She’s still groggy and acting strange. She grins at me, looking goofy and adorable before she slurs, “Well, aren’t you a big hunk of man.”

I snort a laugh, even though I know I’m blushing. “Wow, someone got the good drugs.”

The nurse giggles as she checks something on the monitor and makes notes on a tablet.

Amber sighs. “Ford Remington…captain of the D.C. Eagles hockey team,” she says in a deep voice the way a sports announcer would.

I laugh, enjoying this more than I probably should. Amber’s nose wrinkles, making her freckles shift. “Be honest,” she whispers. “Do you think you’re the hottest guy in the NHL?”

It’s difficult, but I keep my face neutral. “No. The hottest player in the NHL is Colby Knight.”

She nods, then her eyebrows draw together as if she’s deep in thought. “Colby Knight is hot. But not as hot as you.”

I have to roll my lips inside my mouth to keep from laughing. I know she’s coming off anesthesia, but damn if her words don’t make me stand a little taller. I can’t wait to tell Colby about this conversation.

The nurse walks toward the door. “Press the button on your remote if you need me. I’ll come check in every hour,” she says to Amber. Then she turns to me and gestures toward the very small chair in the corner. “And make yourself comfortable, Mr. Remington. As comfortable as you can, anyway.”

She leaves and I toss my backpack onto the stiff-looking chair. “How ya doing, Ambs? ”

Amber smiles at me. “Better now. Could you hand me that water?”

I grab the water jug from the table and hold it up so she can take a sip.

She takes a few gulps then huffs a laugh. “I can hold my own water, Ford. But thank you.”

Setting the jug back on the table, I sit in the small chair, moving my bag to the floor and hiding a cringe at how many germs are likely being transferred from the laminate floors to my bag.

I study Amber, noting how flushed and clammy her skin is. “Are you okay?”

Her brows scrunch together. “I feel…so dizzy. And cold.”

Alarm has me up and pressing the nurse’s call button before she can say another word.

Five seconds later the nurse is back. She takes in Amber’s appearance and grabs the thermometer to take her temp. The screen shows she has a fever, but nothing crazy. “Sometimes the contrast—the dye—they inject during the heart catheterization can cause fever and chills, even nausea,” the nurse tells us.

Amber shivers, despite having a low fever.

The nurse gives her an empathetic look. “Would you like a warm blanket?”

Amber nods, and the nurse is off to retrieve one.

I sit on the edge of the bed, taking her right hand in mine, trying to warm it.

“You’re so warm,” Amber says, opening her eyes.

The nurse returns with a blanket and spreads it over the lower half of Amber’s body.

I hate how sick and pale she looks, even if it’s a normal reaction to the dye. I want to see her skin full of color and her eyes bright with amusement. Seeing her sick and in a hospital bed is the worst thing I’ve experienced in life .

“I’ll come back soon to check on her, okay?”

I nod and the nurse leaves us again.

Amber’s teeth begin to chatter, and she removes her hand from mine, then uses it to pull the blanket higher on her neck.

“How can I help?” I ask, feeling desperate and useless.

“Can you warm me up?” she asks, her green eyes lifting to mine. “You’re so warm, and your body heat is way warmer than this blanket.”

My heartbeat speeds up at the thought of warming her up, of getting close to her. I bend down and slide my shoes off, then pull back her covers and scoot inside the bed beside her. She makes room for me, sliding as far as she can to the edge.

Being large is great for hockey, but not so much for hospital beds.

I adjust my body in the small bed until my side is pressed up against hers. “Is this okay?” I ask.

“I need more, get closer.” Her request isn’t sexual, not at all. But that doesn’t keep my mind from wandering since I know she’s practically naked under the hospital gown.

Rolling onto my side, I wrap an arm around her waist. Her light-blue gown is partially open in the back. I slide my hand into the opening, so my hand is pressed against the skin on her back. Her skin feels hot from the fever, but she’s still shivering.

She brings her left hand to my chest, and I’m careful not to bump the bandage on her wrist as I pull the covers up around our shoulders.

Amber sighs. “That’s better.”

Silently, I agree. But for totally different reasons than she’s probably thinking. I’m in a tiny bed, with my best friend—who’s also my wife. The skin on my hand feels tingly where it’s touching her body, and it’s incredible. The sensation of being this close to her doesn’t make me itch, or squirm. It just makes me want to get even closer. I knew it would be like this, knew it wouldn’t be like touching anyone else. But the reality of being skin-to-skin, even this small amount, has surpassed my imagination.

I glance down at her face to find her sound asleep against my chest. Tightening my arm around her, I rest my chin on top of her head, the urge to protect this woman, at an all-time high.

But even that protective urge doesn’t stop me from relaxing with my favorite person in my arms and falling asleep right along with her.

Early this morning, after an uneventful night in the hospital, Amber’s cardiologist checked in and said her vitals were stable, and she discharged her. Amber was quiet during the drive, still groggy and not feeling a hundred percent. But the moment she was in the house, she wanted to see Nella.

Thankfully, Mom and Farrah meet us in the kitchen, happy Nella in hand.

Amber’s face crumples, a sob breaking free, as she reaches for her daughter. I place a gentle hand on her back, guiding her to the sofa. “Why don’t you sit down and then you can hold her all you want, okay?”

She nods, moving to the couch and making herself comfortable. Mom hands Nella to her mommy, and Amber’s face lights up the moment she has her daughter in her arms. “Oh, Nella. Mommy’s okay now. My heart is all fixed up.”

My throat feels thick with emotion at her words. I knew she was nervous about the procedure—who wouldn’t be?—but I didn’t realize she was so scared that she might’ve worried she’d never see her daughter again if the procedure went wrong. If the cardiologist made a mistake .

I swallow, closing my eyes and willing the thought away. I can’t stand even the thought of a world without Amber. And I don’t have to because she’s right here.

Mom and Farrah sit on the couch with Amber, and I come around and join them.

“How are you feeling sweetheart?” Mom asks Amber.

“Much better now,” Amber admits, giving her daughter a squeeze.

Nella sighs, her eyes blinking slowly. She rests her head against her mother’s shoulder and closes her eyes.

“Aw, sleepy girl,” Farrah says. “We were just about to lay her down for a nap.” She smiles.

Amber’s eyes droop. “As much as I want to hold her all day, I don’t think I can stay awake. Would you mind laying her down for me, Farrah?” Amber asks, and my sister looks delighted to get the baby back.

When Nella is out of Amber’s arms, Amber moves to stand up but she’s unsteady on her feet, still experiencing some vertigo from the dye. I’m there in an instant, one hand under her arm and the other sliding around her waist. “I got you; can you make it up the stairs with my help? I could carry you.”

Amber turns her head in my direction, quirking a brow.

Mom snickers from where she’s sitting on the couch. “Oh, Ford, watching you as a doting husband might be my favorite thing ever.”

Amber doesn’t look as amused as Mom. She sighs and says, “I can walk, but I might need your help.”

I try not to be disappointed. I kind of wanted to carry her. “Okay. You got it.”

She makes it up the stairs fine and I get her settled into bed, pulling the blankets up over her small body. Amber’s smaller than me, of course, but something about seeing her in a state of recovery makes her seem even smaller .

She yawns, and I turn to leave so she can rest, but her voice stops me. “Will you stay with me?”

“Of course,” I answer, toeing my shoes off then crawling into bed beside her. “You don’t want me to get you any water or anything?”

“No. I just want you here with me.” She yawns.

“I’m here,” I tell her, reaching out to search for her hand under the blankets. Her small hand wraps around mine, and we both fall asleep.

When I wake up, I can barely remember where I am or what day it is. I know I had the easy job the past thirty-six hours, wasn’t even the one being sedated, but the anxiety of the whole thing apparently wore me out. I also was sharing a hospital bed with Amber, a hospital bed that was not made for a 6’4 athlete. As great as it was cuddling with Amber, I didn’t get the best sleep.

My eyes open to find Amber awake and watching me. The color of her skin has returned to normal, and she looks well-rested.

“So, did I say anything weird after the sedation wore off?” She asks.

My eyes shift to the side. “Nope.”

“Liar.” She laughs.

I find something interesting to study on her nightstand. A glass of water from the night before her surgery. Fascinating.

“Just tell me what I said.”

“It wasn’t that weird.”

She raises her brows, and I groan, rubbing my eyes with my fists. “You said I was more handsome than Colby Knight.”

Amber’s eyes widen and she slaps a hand over her mouth. “No, I didn’t,” she mumbles through her hand.

I nod slowly.

Amber lets her hand fall away and starts giggling uncontrollably. The sound soothes me—it’s nice to have her back to herself. As much as I enjoyed her half-asleep revelations of my hotness.

Her laughter fades when she moves to get up, grunting in pain when she puts weight on her left hand. “I might need some help.”

I smile. “I got you.”