Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 75240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75240 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“They’d be here if I did,” he concluded. “Right?”
I would think so.
“I think what I heard the last time anyone spoke was that your parents were on a cruise, and your grandmother is in a retirement home,” I said. “As is your grandfather who’s suffering from Alzheimer’s.” I walked forward and picked up the drinks I’d abandoned from the table when I’d first walked into the room. “Are you thirsty?”
“The doctor hasn’t cleared him for fluids yet.”
“Hmm,” I said. “Ice is allowed, though, from what I hear.”
The nurse didn’t have anything to say to that, so I assumed it was all right as I picked up the cup of ice and the spoon, scooped up some ice, and then moved it to Bowe’s beautiful bow-tie lips.
His lips parted, and I had to force myself to stay under control as his tongue came out—waiting.
I dropped the ice onto his tongue and waited with a raised eyebrow.
“More,” he demanded.
No please or thank you for him. Just a demand.
Where it would’ve pissed me off from any other person, I gave him leniency.
He was hurt, had just woken up in a strange place, and was not in his right mind.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
Surely, I couldn’t find it attractive that a man would demand something of me without first saying please.
Right?
I gave him more, then ended up giving him the cup when he urged me to hand him the spoon.
“Do you want me to get his vitals for you?” I asked the nurse who was still standing in the same spot in the corner of the room.
She shook her head, taking a tiny, hesitant step forward, and came to an immediate stop when Bowe tossed her a look.
“Bowe,” I snapped. “Seriously.”
Bowe’s jaw worked, but he didn’t say another word, or give an ugly look, until the nurse finished her assessment, then left the room.
“She, of course, didn’t find it in her heart to empty the urine from the bag,” I grumbled, grabbing the hat (also known as the urine measurer) from the bathroom, donning gloves, and emptying the damn thing myself.
“That’s kind of odd that you’re doing that,” Bowe observed as he leaned over the side of the bed.
“It’s kind of odd that a nurse wouldn’t bother to do it herself when she was in the patient’s room and noticed that it was full,” I countered. “Did you finish your ice?”
He nodded his head and watched me intently as I walked to the bathroom, emptied his urine into the toilet, and set the container back on top of the toilet lid where it belonged.
Once my hands were washed, I walked back to the side of the bed—self-conscious now that Bowe’s black eyes were still on me—and took a seat on the edge of his bed.
“What do you remember?” I asked.
“I remember you…and me. I was at a call. A call for what, I don’t know, but a call. Someone threatened you, I took you down, got up, then got my head knocked in by something hard. I can’t remember anything else,” he explained.
“You know you’re in a hospital?”
He nodded.
“You know that you were seriously hurt. But you don’t know why you were there with me in the first place?” I asked for confirmation.
He nodded again.
“You were on shift.”
“On shift for what?” he questioned.
I grinned. “You’re a firefighter, dude. That’s why.”
His eyes went wide.
“Really?”
I nodded again.
“Wow, imagine that.”
“Why do you say it like that?” I pushed.
“I just didn’t think I was anything all that special.”
“What else do you remember?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“What else?” I shifted on the bed, bringing my knee up to rest my chin on, and waited for him to explain.
What he had to say shocked the shit out of me.
“You. You’re the only thing I can remember,” he said. “You. You. You.”
“Do you know your name?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Bowe,” he confirmed.
“Bowe what?” I persisted. I didn’t know if he heard me call him Bowe or if he really did know his name.
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Fear started to pound away at my heart and I started to worry.
“Did you know what you did for a living?”
“Not until you told me,” he blinked. “I still can’t believe I’m a firefighter. Holy shit.”
“Do you remember your parents’ names?” I asked.
He pursed his lips, concentration taking over his face for a few long moments, before shaking his head in the negative. “Nope. Although they can’t be all that great if they’re not here.”
My mouth dropped open.
“From what I understand they tried to get home; the cruise line they were on was unable to port due to bad weather. It’s not their fault that they’re not here,” I patted his hand.
He flipped his hand over quickly, his hand engulfing mine as he looked into my eyes.
His eyes were a shade of brown, but darker than mine.