Page 22 of Sticks and Stones (FBI Romance/Thriller #65)

Yeah, he was going to go get her clothes from the Jeep, so doctors weren’t checking her out, or Charlie wasn’t getting annoyed that he’d taken her out without ‘britches’ .

They all knew the man.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Leading them back, they found the room he was in, and when they went in, he was hooked up to monitors, had an IV, and his eyes were closed.

He had to sense their arrival.

“I’m fine, Elizabeth,” he said before she could start riding his ass like a cheap pair of undies.

Only, she wasn’t having it.

“Fine my ass, old man,” she stated. “We’re going to have a talk about you and the bacon. You’re not getting any more of it!”

Sam laughed.

“Well, I’m not needed here,” he joked. “It looks like someone’s having a bacon divorce and not because of me this time.”

Slowly, Charlie opened his eyes, and he saw his family. He’d been so worried about dying. The whole time, he was worried about losing his family.

His husband.

Their kids.

“I’m good. I don’t need my gallbladder out,” he stated. “I’ll manage it with food.”

Yeah, no.

That was a rodeo they went to a few times with him, and no one was entertaining that jackassery.

“Sorry, Dad,” Chris said. “It’s bad enough to need medical intervention.”

Well, shit.

To stop him from bitching, Elizabeth headed his way and hugged him.

As she did, Charlie knew she was scared.

Hell.

He’d been scared.

Charlie was man enough to admit that he’d already planned on divorcing the bacon if God gave him more time.

Would he now?

Hell, no.

People did crazy things when they were scared.

As she held onto him, Elizabeth took in his scent, and memorized it.

“Daddy,” she said.

He took her face in his hand and stared into her eyes to reassure her. It took a lot to scare his daughter, but this clearly had.

“I’m good,” he promised. “You don’t have to worry, Elizabeth. I’m not dying anytime soon. I promise.”

She kissed him on the forehead.

That calmed her down.

“We were worried,” she admitted.

Oh, he bet.

“I’m surprised it took you so long to get back here and raise hell. That’s unlike you,” he admitted as Tony hugged him next, and he kissed him on the forehead too.

“I would have, but I was naked with my man,” she said. “You know…enjoying our day off before you nearly killed the four of us.”

He laughed.

“Oh, no, I interfered with Chris’ shenanigans. I’m a horrible human being,” he joked.

Chris hugged him, and then went there since it wasn’t a heart attack.

“Don’t worry. She didn’t put panties or a bra on. I’ll have my fun later in the chapel,” he teased.

That was all he had to say.

Fornication in a church with no panties on?

Oh, Jesus.

Charlie gasped.

“Elizabeth Renee LaRue Leonard!” he said, staring at her. “Your mother just rolled over in her grave! Where are your britches?”

She snorted.

“That’s your big concern? Not the fact that Sam and I are making you eat bran and give up pork? Not that you’re never seeing bacon again?”

Well, yeah.

His daughter was always his concern.

“Don’t worry. I’ll eat that hippy-shit granola with nut milk to make everyone happy.”

Sam held out his hand, and they all dropped a twenty into it. Elizabeth had to take Chris’ wallet out of his pocket because she didn’t think to bring her purse.

Chris was amused.

Charlie was not.

“Betting on me now?” he asked.

Yes, yes, they did.

Chris could see that Charlie was going to be perfectly fine. He looked better now that his family was there, and there was amusement over the bet.

No one was dying today.

“I’ll go get her go-bag. Oh, and some bran flakes for Sam to feed you. They’re tasty. Almost as good as granola.”

Charlie just shook his head.

“You leave my colon alone, Son. I have other issues going on. I planned on leaving this earth with all of my organs, and now I’m about to be one short.”

Sam was holding Charlie’s hand.

“Well, you won’t be able to eat bacon anymore without a gallbladder,” he stated.

Charlie looked at him.

What was this poppycock?

Surely, that was bullshit.

Right?

“What does that mean?” he asked, confused as to why it had to go away. Piggy was his favorite snack.

Ham.

Chops.

Bacon.

Prosciutto.

Everyone knew what was coming.

Oh, he was going to be pissy.

“After you remove a gallbladder, high, fatty foods will make you shit your britches. So you eliminate them. The way you pound bacon, that’s not going to be fun.”

He gasped.

They all found that amusing.

“You had better be lying to me,” Charlie said. “I like fat. Fat is my friend. That’s how I can go hours between eating since my daughter likes starving me when we work cases.”

Sue her.

There were times she didn’t have a chance to eat, so she survived on coffee, sex, and sarcasm.

Because he looked as if they were bullshitting him, Tony showed him his phone because he’d looked it up to prove it.

“Yeah, no more fat.”

Charlie closed his eyes.

“Why did you have to do me dirty like that, gallbladder? What did I do to you? I gave you a warm, moist place to hang out, and all you had to do was let me eat the bacon!”

Well, if anything, Charlie was amusing.

Know who wasn’t amused?

His man.

Sam was direct and to the point.

“Well, you did it to yourself. It’s your atrocious diet where you shove bacon and burgers down your gullet at breakneck speed whenever you think I’m not paying attention.

Don’t think I don’t know that you and Tony are sneaking food when I’m not up your ass, Charlie.

I know you have him bringing you bacon burgers. ”

At that, Tony looked around—for an exit because the jig was up, and he was caught.

Chris opted to save the man.

“Let’s go get Elizabeth a change of clothes,” he said, wanting to give Elizabeth and Sam a moment with him.

Tony thought that was a good idea.

Sam played with scalpels.

“I love you, Dad,” he said, hugging his new father. “Can I ask the doctor to see your gallbladder after it’s out? I can get it put in a jar for you.”

Elizabeth, Sam, and Charlie stared at him.

Chris just laughed.

Why did they not expect that?

This was, after all, Tony.

“Or not,” he said. “Clearly, I was adopted,” he stated, teasing them. “The straights won’t let me collect my own father’s organs.”

That was enough.

“Go,” Elizabeth said. “Find me clothes and get out of here before I slap you stupid.”

That was all he had to hear.

When they disappeared through the curtain, she brushed some of the hair off of Charlie’s face and stared into her own eyes.

“I love you, Dad.”

He kissed her knuckles.

“I’m good, baby girl. It takes a lot more than a gallbladder to take me out. I’ll be right as rain in a day or so.”

She hoped so.

“I’ll see you when you come out,” she said. “Don’t give them shit.”

He laughed.

“I mean, I’m not pissing off the people who control the pain meds, honey. I’m not an idiot.”

Well, at least he had his priorities straight. He tended to whine during the man flu. She couldn’t imagine what Sam would have to deal with if he didn’t get medicated post-operation.

Kissing him again, she headed out, leaving him and Sam alone. When she was gone, the bedridden man stared at the other one.

“I scared you,” Charlie said.

When he closed his eyes to take a settling breath, and then opened them, Sam had tears in his eyes.

“I can’t lose you, Charles. I don’t want to live in a world where there’s no you. Your lack of common sense when it comes to your health is going to be the death of me.”

He kissed his knuckles next.

“I’ll start taking care of myself,” he promised. “I don’t want you to be stressed out.”

He sighed.

“Thank you. I love you, Charles. I love you so much and I always will.”

He pulled him down, and kissed his husband. It was soft, sweet, and filled with love.

When he set him free, he stared into his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise. We’re going to get old together, and die in our bed after sex. You promised me that.”

That he did.

Sam only hoped he kept that promise.

A life without Charlie LaRue would be a lonely one. If he died, there was no way Sam could keep their family together.

No.

Way.