Page 12 of The Bad Boy’s Homecoming (The Southern Hart Brothers #2)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Missy

Time Is Running Out

W hy would fate put such a desirable, cocky man right in her path?

Why was she suddenly even noticing a man?

For almost a year she’d been single, and not a single man had caught her eye.

Even when she met with Dalton and Wesley to discuss helping them with Mrs. Hart, both men were fit, attractive, unmarried, and she hadn’t even flinched.

But Levi was a completely different, distracting type of man.

“Missy honey, you don’t have to make so many biscuits. You know there’s only six or so ladies coming this week.”

Looking up she realized she’d already filled two baking sheets with the biscuits she’d made.

For some reason she’d doubled the recipe when she’d been measuring out the ingredients.

She’d need to freeze some, now that there were twenty-four biscuits rolled out and cut into perfect circles.

Being distracted by thoughts of Levi was not a good sign.

“Your grandson said he would be joining you and your friends for dinner.”

“Is that right?” Mrs. Hart said with one eyebrow up as she lifted the top off the soup Missy had simmering on the stove.

“Yes, ma’am, he said he’d bring dessert too.”

“Oh that boy must be completely lost right now in life if he has nothing better to do than sit with his grandmother and her book club.”

Before Missy could respond the doorbell chimed and Mrs. Hart set the top back on the pot.

“You’ll be joining us of course, right? Even though we didn’t read the book, I think the movie gave us all the high points.”

Missy laughed. “Yes, Mrs. Hart, but the only question is are you team Edward or team Jacob?”

“I’m team whichever young alpha male wants to make me his mate and obsess over me for eternity. Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Missy repeated.

“I still don’t know who chose this book but I’m not mad about it,” Mrs. Hart called on her way to the front door.

After getting the biscuits in the oven and setting a timer, she pulled down the bowls and side plates the women would use for dinner.

They always started with a meal and some gossip, then they would move into the living room for dessert, after-dinner drinks, and the book discussion.

Missy suspected this week’s vampire romance was chosen by Mrs. Hart’s best friend Mrs. Sheila.

Mrs. Hart said she wasn’t going to read a decades-old romance, but she did agree to watch the movie with Missy one evening.

And they ended up spending the better part of last weekend binge-watching the entire series.

The house filled with the excited chatter of the book club ladies, women who were either born and raised in Sandy Point or married someone who was.

They were on the town’s activities board, the historical board, and nothing happened in this town they didn’t know about.

Her Aunt Honey had been a younger member of their crew, so it was no surprise when they had all eagerly thrown their support behind Missy.

Once Mrs. Hart discovered her love of art, she pushed her to display it at the summer festival, and that had started everything.

Her online gallery, requests for specific work, and her business.

In just a few months she was painting every day, and producing more art than she knew she had inside her.

She had found her path. After a year of mistakes and a lifetime of misfortunes, Missy had almost given up on finding such peace.

Grabbing two potholders she lifted up the Dutch oven to carry it into the dining room at the same time Levi entered the back door into the kitchen and startled her.

It was just one misplaced step that had her falling back toward the stove top where the burner was still on.

The pot crashed down, and the top slid to the side as soup sloshed out.

Missy’s left hand moved out of the potholder where the flame waited, licking at her tender palm.

“Ouch,” she croaked, holding her hand up to see the skin smoking.

“Missy?” Mrs. Hart called.

“Oh no.” Levi was there in a flash. “It’s going to be okay.” He spun her toward the sink and turned the water on.

But her entire body was shaking, and her hand throbbed in pain. He tried to move her hand to the water but she resisted.

“We have to get the heat out of it,” Levi said in a soft but sure tone, from behind her. He was holding her hand out and had the water on low.

“What happened?” Mrs. Hart exclaimed as she and the other women entered the kitchen.

“Call Dalton and ask him if we should wrap a burn and if we need the ambulance,” Levi barked.

He gripped her wrist with strength, causing her to back up into his body that surrounded her. “We have to get some water on the burn, Missy. I know it hurts. I’m sorry.”

His deep voice was in her ear, in a soothing tone. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, and she wanted to scream from the agony she was feeling. But all she could do was shake her head in fast side-to-side motions.

“Dalton says lukewarm water. He’s sending Brooke with an emergency kit they have at the house, and he thinks you can probably get her to the clinic faster with that car of yours.”

“Okay, you see, Dr. Dalton says water to pull out the heat and Brooke will be here any minute.”

The tears continued and her breathing was coming in gasps.

“It…” gasp. “Hurts…” gasp. “It…” gasp. “Hurts…” gasp.

“Shit, Missy, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault for startling you.”

Then a timer rang through the fog.

“Is there something burning?” someone said.

“It’s the biscuits, I’ll get them. Just keep her hand in the water,” Mrs. Hart said. “Missy honey, let Levi help you.”

He placed her hand under the water, and it felt cool but also hurt even more. She could feel the pain so deeply her legs began to feel weak.

“What if she faints?” Mrs. Shelia said.

“Grab a chair,” another voice said.

“I’ve got her,” Levi said gripping one hand around her waist and holding her against him as he held her hand under the water, and that was the last thing she remembered.

*

When she woke up she was lying on the kitchen counter and Dalton’s girlfriend nurse Brooke was saying soothing things.

“I can use some lidocaine but I need to know if she has any allergies. Can you get her cousin on the phone?”

“Yes,” Mrs. Hart said.

“I don’t want any narcotics,” Missy said as she tried to open her eyes. But the gnawing feeling of agony flooded back and she squeezed her eyes closed.

“No narcotics, but this will numb the area where you’ve been burned and ease the pain for a little while. Do you have any allergies?”

Her chin was chattering. “No, no, no.”

“Why is she so cold?” Levi’s deep voice sounded like he was in pain.

“She’s in shock, and in acute pain. It will pass but each time she wakes up it’s like being burned all over again.”

“Damn it, spray the lidocaine already please, Brooke,” Levi growled.

She felt the grip of a hand holding her unburned hand tighten.

“Her cousin said she has no allergies, and he’ll meet us at the hospital.”

Brooke did something with a needle near her hand and within seconds the pain began to lessen.

“Whatever that is, I need more,” Missy said. Her arms felt heavy, her body felt exhausted, but she gripped Levi’s hand.

“Missy, we need to take you to the clinic where Dalton can do more wound care, and you’ll probably need to stay the night,” Brooke said.

She just nodded.

“Oh, sweetie, I’ll stay with you at the hospital,” Mrs. Hart said from behind Levi’s body, which she realized was blocking her from rolling off the kitchen counter.

“I’m sorry I ruined book club night,” she said, her voice still sounding shaky to her own ears.

“You didn’t ruin anything, love. You just focus on getting that hand mended.”

She nodded and let more tears fall. Usually she wasn’t much of a crier, much less in front of people. But everyone was being so thoughtful.

Brooke put something else cool and wet on her hand and wrapped it lightly then set it on her chest.

“We need to keep her hand above her heart,” Brooke said to someone, but Missy just squeezed her eyes closed, trying to steady her breathing.

“Mrs. Hart, I’m just going to make an ice bag.

We’ll rest her hand on it, in the car, and then, Levi, you’re going to drive her right to the front of the hospital. ”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once the ice bag was ready Brooke sat Missy up. “Can you walk to the car?” Missy saw the crowd of women gathered, all looking worried, and more tears welled in her eyes. It had been a long time since she’d had so much maternal care, and it was overwhelming her senses.

“No need, I’ll carry her.” Levi tossed his keys to Brooke’s son who Missy had just realized was also in the kitchen. “Open the passenger door will ya, Max?”

“Ya, cool.”

She had no energy to argue and let Levi scoop her up in his arms. His body was hard but he was gentle.

“I’m so sorry,” he kept whispering to her.

She just rested her head on his chest and tried not to think about how ugly the burn had been or worry about how long it would take to heal and what that would mean for her art.

After he slid her in the passenger seat, and carefully buckled her in, he closed the door and quickly got in on the other side.

“It’s not your fault, it’s my fault. I’ve been skittish ever since…” Missy began. Her throat felt rough and scratchy, as if she’d been screaming.

Levi gripped the steering wheel with one hand as his other hand worked the stick shift in his sports car. She held her arm close to her chest with a bag of ice under her palm.

“Ever since?” he said, prompting her.

“Ever since he pushed me, and I can’t get that feeling out of my mind.” She said it all so fast she didn’t have time to really think about it. But the act of admission, voicing what happened out loud, felt like a weight lifting off of her shoulders.