Her eyes came to his.
“And stop movin’ in that jerky way. It scares the shit outta me each time you do it thinkin’ you’re gonna pull something, tear something or rupture something. That fuckwad nicked an artery and he blew a fuckin’ hole through your chest. I saw them load you, covered in blood and unconscious, into the back of an ambulance. This is not somethin’ I’ll ever forget and I sure as fuck don’t wanna relive it. Cut me some slack, yeah?”
She closed her eyes slowly, a shadow of pain for him that he had that memory drifting across her face.
Then she opened her eyes, lifted a hand and curled it along his jaw as she whispered, “Yeah.”
“You gonna quit bein’ a pain in the ass?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she repeated.
“You gonna marry me?”
She blinked.
Then she whispered, “What?”
Mike shifted so he was sitting with a hip pressed light to hers and her hand at his jaw dropped. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring.
Then he lifted her left hand and slid the diamond on her ring finger.
When he looked at her face, her eyes were on the ring and they were bright.
“You get fightin’ fit, this shit goes into overdrive. Married by end of summer, you pregnant by fall. You with me?”
Her eyes moved from the ring to him.
Then she nodded as one tear slid down her cheek.
Then she asked what he thought, considering the moment, was bizarrely, “Will Ryker be off house arrest by then?”
“I don’t know,” Mike answered.
“If he isn’t, we have to do it in his front yard so at least he can watch from the windows.”
Mike’s lips twitched and his hand moved to curl around the one of Dusty’s bearing his ring.
But he did this denying her. “We’re not gettin’ married in Ryker’s front yard. This is your first and only wedding. We’re doin’ it up big. You got your girl here, use her wisely. Sort that shit out. It’ll give you somethin’ to do other than bitch.”
She looked contrite and used her free hand to dash away the wetness caused by her single tear.
Then she muttered, “Sorry I’ve been bitching.”
“You’re active. Now you’re forced to be inactive. If it was me laid up, I’d probably be a pain in the ass too.”
She grinned and fuck, fuck, he loved it when she grinned.
Then her grin died and she whispered, “Sorry me being stupid scared the shit outta you.”
“You’re forgiven if you don’t it again.”
“I’ll act like I’m crystal.”
“I’d be obliged.”
She grinned again.
Then her hand squeezed his, her eyes got bright again and she breathed, “We’re getting married.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m marrying Jonathan Michael Haines, the first boy I ever loved.”
Mike’s lips twitched and he repeated, “Yeah.”
She held his eyes and she whispered, “I’m marrying you, Mike Haines.”
Mike leaned in and, his lips against hers, he whispered another, “Yeah.”
Then he kissed her gentle and he took his time before he lifted his head.
She pulled in a quiet breath.
Then she said softly, “Can you ask Jerra to come in? I have a wedding to plan. She has to go out and buy bride’s magazines. I’m all over this but she’s gotta be my legs and wheels.”
Mike smiled at her and yet again said, “Yeah.”
Then he leaned in, touched his mouth to hers and carefully got off the bed.
Layla woofed.
He paused to give her a head rub and when he was done she shifted so she was pressed down the side of Dusty’s leg and then Dusty’s fingers were gliding through the fur on her head and she got a head rub from Dusty too.
Mike walked to the doors but turned and looked at his woman in his bed.
She was alive, breathing, recuperating and they’d been assured if she took it easy that she’d have a full recovery.
That weight was no longer in his gut.
In a few weeks, Dusty healed, life would be good.
All good.
Finally.
Finally he’d be happy with not one thing fucking it up.
“Love you, Angel,” he called and her eyes went from Layla to Mike.
“Love you too, babe,” she replied.
He grinned.
She grinned back.
Mike took in her grin then he left the room.
*
Mike stared at the basket that was delivered to his door two minutes ago that he put on his kitchen counter.
It was from Audrey. Through the crunchy yellow-tinted cellophane that spiked out of the top and a big, shiny yellow bow, Mike could see inside different bottles of nail polish, lotion, something called “scrub” and other shit.
Mike had read the note with no remorse. No way he was walking some shit he didn’t know who it was from up to Dusty. It could be from Debbie.
It simply said in Audrey’s fine, tight, cursive, Dusty, I hope you get well soon. –Audrey