Page 37 of Gamble (Black Light #38)
At her lowest point in the last few weeks, she wasn’t sure she’d ever speak with him again either. But that was before. Reagan took a breath, choosing her words carefully. This was the moment that would determine everything that came next.
“You hurt me, Elijah, and I’m not sure I’ve totally forgiven you yet, but.
..” Reagan paused, taking in the pain in his eyes she was pretty sure was not all caused by his recent surgery.
“Last Friday I was so furious that I went to Runway looking for you. I demanded to see you, and that’s where I met your friends. ”
His eyes widened. “You went to Runway?” His voice cracked with emotion.
“I was desperate for answers, Elijah. You ghosted me, and I needed to know why.” She kept her voice gentle but firm. “That’s where I met Nalani.”
“That little sneak. She drove me here today but conveniently left that little detail out. What did she tell you?” His voice was controlled, but she could see the worry in his eyes.
“The truth. That you’d hurt yourself. That you were having surgery. And that for some idiotic reason, you’d convinced yourself you were too old for me, and I deserved better.”
She watched relief and embarrassment war across his features.
“What if I don’t want you to see me like this?” he asked, vulnerability bleeding through his usual confidence.
“Like what? Injured?” Reagan couldn’t help but smile. “I’m a nurse, Elijah. I see injured people all the time. Next question?”
“I’m weak,” he said, almost defiantly.
“Most injured people are. You’ll get stronger again. Next?”
His jaw tightened. “I’m old.”
“I say experienced. Confident. Sexy.” She leaned forward, refusing to let him off the hook. “Next?”
“Maybe not now, but when you’re my age, I’ll be seventy!”
“Stop.” Her voice carried a note of authority that surprised them both.
“We don’t need to plot out the next twenty years today.
Just know that I care about you. I want to help you right now.
You saw me through my humiliation with Tristan in Vegas, and I want to see you through your recovery. We can sort out the rest after.”
For a long moment, they stared at each other, the weight of possibility hanging between them. Elijah spoke, his voice rough with emotion.
He squeezed her hand. “I missed you. God, Reagan, I missed you so much.”
“I know,” she whispered. “Despite still being angry at you for ghosting me, I can’t deny that I missed you too. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m not going anywhere.”
“The next week is going to be hell. Recovery from hip surgery is no joke. I’ll be weak, probably grumpy, definitely not at my best?—”
“Good thing I took the week off then.”
His eyes widened. “You what?” His voice cracked with surprise.
“I took vacation time. I’m going to take care of you whether or not you like it.” She gave him a smile that was equal parts sweet and challenging.
The look he gave her in return was intense it made her pulse race, but before he could respond, Dr. Jennings appeared in the doorway.
“Well, well,” the doctor said with a knowing grin. “I see my patient has some excellent nursing care lined up.”
“Dr. Jennings,” Reagan stood and extended her hand. “Reagan Murphy. I work here in surgical.”
“Of course, I recognized you,” he said, returning the greeting. “So, you’re the beauty who helped deliver my old friend his best birthday ever,” he said with a wink.
Reagan could feel the blood rushing to her face with embarrassment as she shot Elijah a look that could kill.
Dr. Jennings chuckled as he released her hand.
“Don’t worry. Elijah and I go way back. In fact, I owe more than a few mortgage payments to one of my most frequent patients here.
” He thumbed in the bed's direction, and his grin softened. “I’m thrilled that you’ll be taking such good care of our stubborn patient.
Elijah’s told me quite a bit about you, and he’s lucky to have you in his corner. ”
“Has he now?” Reagan glanced at Elijah, who had the grace to look embarrassed.
“Don’t worry, all good things. Now, let’s talk about what recovery is going to look like.
” Turning to talk to Elijah, the doctor gave his post-op instructions.
“Normally, I’d admit full replacement patients for an overnight, but I know better than to try that with you.
You’ll just check yourself out later whether or not I order it.
So, having learned my lesson, I’ve arranged for you to go through all of your day one post-op activities today, and we’ll see if we can get you home to your own bed before dinnertime.
“You know the drill. We’ll need to remove your catheter and monitor you through your first urination.
You’ll need to get out of bed and on your feet to take the new hip for a short spin around the nurse’s station and you’ll need to eat and drink the meal we’ll send in, keeping it down for at least an hour.
If you can manage all of those things, I’ll release you into the capable hands of Ms. Murphy here and let you convalesce at home.
I’m sending you home with the pain meds you love to hate.
Don’t be a hero. Take them when you need them.
” The doctor delivered a stern look toward his patient before adding, “I’ll need to see you in my office on Friday and, assuming all is on track, you’ll need to start daily physical therapy sessions. ”
“I know the drill,” Elijah countered. “I don’t need daily PT,” he groused.
Dr. Jennings turned to Reagan with a smile. “You’re gonna have your hands full these next few days, young lady. Good luck with this difficult patient. He’s a stubborn one.”
“Don’t I know it,” she answered, shooting Elijah a warning glare. “But I can be stubborn when I need to be, so this should be interesting.”
Leaning down, she placed a quick kiss to Elijah’s forehead. “I’ll leave you two to finish up your post-op instructions. I’ll go out to the waiting room and let Nalani know you came through surgery okay. She’s been as worried about you as I have been.”
Reagan stepped out of Elijah’s room, beelining her way to the family restroom just down the hall.
Once inside, she locked the door before leaning her back against the hard wood.
Her heart was racing. Being around Elijah again did that to her.
She was both relieved and confused. Residual anger at how he’d abandoned her warred with a deep need to take care of him.
She couldn’t deny that seeing him helpless in the bed was affecting her already complicated feelings for the man who had swept her off her feet in Vegas.
Walking to the sink, Reagan turned on the cold water before scooping up some liquid to splash on her face. The shock of cold helped her snap out of her spiraling worry.
“One day at a time, Reagan,” she announced to the empty room. “Just take things one day at a time.”
Seven hours later, Reagan was helping Elijah move from the hospital’s wheelchair into the passenger seat of her Honda Civic, trying to ignore his obvious discomfort at needing help.
After she slid in behind the wheel, Elijah muttered, “The house is a mess,” as she started the car. “I couldn’t take care of shit before surgery.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Reagan said, pulling up his contact in her phone just before starting the GPS navigation to his house.
“You already have my address?” he asked with surprise.
“Of course,” she smiled over at him as she put the car in motion.
“Let me guess. Nalani.” Elijah groused.
“I think it was Shane who gave it to me.” Reagan could feel his stare from the passenger seat.
“You met Shane, too?”
“Yep,” she quipped as she pulled out of the hospital parking lot.
“Just how many of my friends have been lying to me?” he groused.
“Oh… I don’t know. More than two but less than one hundred,” she teased.
His noncommittal “humph’ was his only reply.
“I don’t suppose you’re going to share what they’ve told you?”
She caught an edge of worry in his voice.
He was wondering if they’d told her about the true nature of his job and the BDSM lifestyle.
Things may be going okay between them so far, but it was still too early to broach that subject, so she answered with an equally non-committal answer.
“Enough to reinforce to me I’d met the real you in Vegas. ”
The rest of the drive to his neighborhood took twenty minutes through West Hollywood traffic.
With each turn they took, Reagan found herself more charmed by the tree-lined streets and well-maintained houses.
This was exactly the middle-class neighborhood she could picture Elijah in—unpretentious but solid, with kids playing in driveways—evidence of summer vacation everywhere.
When the GPS showed they’d arrived, she found his house was a classic California ranch, brick and stucco with a well-tended front yard and mature landscaping that provided privacy from the street.
“It’s perfect,” she said as she pulled into his driveway.
“It’s not fancy,” he warned, nervous about her seeing where he lived.
“I don’t need fancy, Elijah.” Turning off the engine, she turned to pin him with a stare. “I need you.”
His eyes widened, but he had no reply to her declaration, so she exited the car.
As Reagan helped her patient inside, she was struck by how much the house felt like him—comfortable, masculine, but with thoughtful touches that spoke to a man who paid attention to details.
The living room, where he’d been camped out for the past week, showed evidence of his recent struggles, but underneath the clutter, she could see a home.
“Nalani’s been taking care of things,” he said, noticing her looking around. “She’ll probably be by later to check on me.”
“I’m sure she will,” Reagan said, already cataloging what needed to be done. “I like her, by the way. And I have a feeling we’re going to be ganging up on you over the next few weeks.”
“Weeks?” Elijah’s eyebrows rose. “I thought you said you took one week off, which I’ll remind you that you don’t need to do. I’m sure I’ll be…”
Reagan moved into his personal space, lifting her fingers to his lips to quiet him mid-sentence.
“Stop trying to scare me away, Elijah. I’m right where I want to be doing what I want to be doing… helping you recover. If it makes you feel any better, I do have the perfect idea of how you can return the favor. And you have exactly three and a half weeks to do that.”
For the first time, Elijah broke into the smile she’d missed so much before asking, “Oh? Why three weeks?”
Reagan grinned back. “Because my best friend, Meena, is getting married, and I need a date. You can repay me by not making me go to her wedding alone.”
The look that crossed Elijah’s face was worth every moment of uncertainty she’d felt over the past few weeks. Hope mixed with something that looked suspiciously like joy.
“Reagan Murphy,” he said, “you are going to be the death of me.”
“Maybe,” she agreed, settling him onto his couch before leaning in to place a small kiss on his cheek. “But what a way to go.”