“You may look like Logan, Grant, but you’re nothing like him. You’re nothing like your family. You’re a good man.” She drew his right hand to her lips and kissed his fingers softly.
Grant closed his eyes. He didn’t quite believe he was a good man, but at least she did. She believed in him. He wanted to be worthy of her grace.
Then she grinned, thinking about her father. “It’s kind of ironic that I had to date a convict to find a good man.”
“Thank God you went to prison, Bonnie. I never would have met you otherwise.”
“And I’m grateful you’re a criminal thug as well, Clyde.” They snuggled closer and both felt sheer exhaustion from their crime spree—a crime spree that had finally come to an end.
Pacing the hospital hallway, Will decided he’d waited long enough. Surely Sophie had kicked that Mafiosi to the curb by now? What was taking so damn long?
Will burst into the room only to stop short right inside the door. His eyes burned at the sleeping figures on the bed, curled around each other so tightly that there was not one inch between them. Will had never seen such a look of serene bliss on Sophie’s face, and his own face curled into a scowl.
Apparently this Madsen man was here to stay.
40. Going Home
Still asleep, Grant unconsciously brushed off whatever was nudging him on the shoulder. However, the hand continued joggling his arm, and Grant’s eyes opened to stare directly into the ample bosom of the nurse leaning over him.
“Get out of that bed, young man!” she hissed.
His eyes widened and he quickly extricated himself from the wonderfully warm cocoon he and Sophie had created. At his departure, she groaned, shifting in the bed while yawning and extending her toes like a cat stretching after a nap.
“What were you thinking?” the nurse chastised, glaring at Grant before hovering over Sophie to dress her bandage. “This is a hospital, not a hotel—unless you need to be admitted too?”
“No, ma’am,” Grant said apologetically. He felt a little disoriented. That was the best sleep he’d had in a long time.
Feeling groggy herself, Sophie scrunched her forehead. The nurse had been very kind to her during her stay, and now she was harshly reprimanding Grant for sleeping? Something didn’t seem quite right.
The solidly built nurse began bustling around the bed. “C’mon, honey, we need to get you dressed. You’re being discharged and your father is waiting for you.”
That was it. Sophie sat up and glanced at Grant standing a respectful distance from the bed. “Did my father send you in here, Chavonne?”
Nurse Chavonne appeared surprised, but then averted her eyes, bending down to the overnight bag on the floor. “These are the clothes your roommate brought for you?” she asked innocently.
“Chavonne,” Sophie said, not fooled by her misdirection. “Answer me. Did my dad tell you to come in here?”
Reluctantly the nurse looked up from unzipping the bag. “Yes.”
Rolling her eyes, she inquired, “What exactly did he say?”
“I’m sorry, Sophie. He grabbed me and asked if it was hospital policy to allow our patients to have sex with their visitors.”
Sophie’s jaw dropped. “We were not having sex!” She glanced at Grant, whose eyes danced with amusement.
Chavonne continued. “Your father said he was going to lodge a complaint with my supervisor if we didn’t discharge you right away like we promised. So, I need to get you dressed and out of here.”
Scooting off the bed, wincing slightly from the movement to her arm, Sophie muttered, “He is some piece of work. I’ll dress myself, thank you very much.”
“No can do, Ms. Taylor.” Chavonne shook her head firmly. “You need somebody to help you. I want that elbow completely immobile for at least a week.”
Quiet up to this point, Grant stepped forward. “I’ll help her.”
Chavonne and Sophie looked over, and he reciprocated with a smoldering gaze that made both women weak in the knees.
“Um, uh …” Sophie stammered, a blush coloring her neck.
Grant sidled up behind Sophie, placing his large hands on her small hips. He leaned in, his warm breath feathering her ear as he whispered, “Let’s teach old Will he’d better not try to come between us.”
Feeling goose-bumps travel up her spine, Sophie’s blush grew deeper. She closed her eyes and leaned against his muscular frame, bolstered by his strength.
Chavonne hesitated, unsure what to do, but certain she felt like an intruder.
“It’s okay, Chavonne,” Grant nodded reassuringly. “You can tell Mr. Taylor it would be unwise to come in here for awhile, as his daughter will not be decent.”
“Maybe you could go get my discharge instructions?” Sophie suggested.
Rolling her eyes, the nurse exited.
“Now,” Grant asserted, kneeling down by the bag, “Let’s get you dressed, shall we?”
“Grant, thanks but I can do it myself, really …”
He stood, holding some folded clothing in his grasp, and gave her a disapproving look. “And what would Dr. Hayes say about that, hmm? I thought you were supposed to work on asking for help?”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m never telling you anything about my therapy sessions ever again!”
He chuckled and clasped her right hand in his, stroking her skin softly. Finally Sophie said, “It’s embarrassing. I can’t even dress myself.”
“Let me take care of you, Bonnie. Please. After all the hurt I’ve caused you, it will make me feel good to take care of you.”
Searching his eyes, she finally nodded. He gently loosened the belt of her sling and carefully freed her arm.
“It doesn’t really matter,” he added, circling around behind her and slowly untying her hospital gown. “I’m only going to rip these clothes right off of you once we’re alone, anyway.”
He slid the hospital gown off her shoulders, leaving her standing in the cool air-conditioning clad only in her lacy pink panties. Her creamy smooth complexion gave him pause, wanting to take her right then and there, but seeing her shiver slightly, he quickly grabbed her bra from the pile of clothing on the bed.
“Uh, this should be interesting,” he commented as he faced her, holding up the bra and trying to figure out the best way to put it on.
“I usually clasp it in front and then slide it around,” she suggested.
He gulped and reached around her, weaving the bra around the small of her back, bringing his sturdy body closer and causing Sophie’s breath to hitch. She was glad Chavonne had helped her to shower the evening before, and she hoped she smelled as good as he did, his clean soapy scent flooding her senses. Sliding the ends of the lacy garment to the front, right above her navel, he concentrated as his long fingers hooked the eyelets. Skimming and twisting the bra across her skin, he began shimmying it up her ribcage but halted for a moment.