Page 81 of Love By a Landslide

“Jonathan.” Her frustration was evident but laced with melancholy. She turned so her legs dangled over the edge of the bed, shifting her weight to stand. He dashed in front of her and gripped her elbows to keep her from tumbling over. Electricity zapped from his fingertips up his arms. The closeness drew awareness to the heat flooding his chest. He peered down at her. She looked so small and fragile in the massive gown, exposed skin covered with cuts and bruises. But Jonathan knew she was tougher than she appeared. She had survived a lot in the last few days.

And she would survive this too.

Tears brimmed but held fast in her swirling emerald eyes. “I trust you,” she whispered as she leaned into his chest, nuzzling against the open collar of the flannel he wore. She felt so right pressed to him, the soft curves of her body conforming to the hard planes of his. Jonathan slid a hand up her back and over her shoulder. But when he moved to cup her cheek, his fingers snagged on the oxygen tube fastened there.

I put her here.

Jonathan shifted Lucy back onto the bed and let his hands fall to his sides. He stepped back. “You shouldn’t.”

“Bullshit. After what we went through, there’s no one I’d trust more with my life. Even knowing the chaos we went through, I’d make the decision to go with you to Mount Stuart over and over again. But now . . . now you’re making the worst decision and not even allowing me to have a say.” She returned to her feet; scorn filled her voice as she flung the words at him.

Good. She’ll be more willing to accept this if she’s mad.

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s it?” Her lower lip trembled as she took a step forward. “Jonathan. I want you. I care about you. And I know you feel the same. You can’t fake what we had out there.”

His weak will splintered. The resolve he’d walked in there with was steadily crumbling before her courageous vulnerability.

Yes!He wanted to shout.I care about you too. Maybe even more than just that. Let’s be together. I can make you happy. Protect you.

But instead, he stepped forward, scooped Lucy into his arms, and gently laid her in the hospital bed. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, pulling the blankets up around her, careful not to disturb the wires and tubes. He knelt to pick up the fallen bouquet.

“I’m aware of the risk. Jonathan, you areworththe risk,” she beseeched.

A weary sigh escaped him as he set the flowers on her lap again. The gift was meant to be thoughtful when he impulsively bought them downstairs. A kind gesture to soften the blow. But now they seemed like salt in the wound.

A kick to a broken rib.

The words tasted foul before they even reached his lips.

“It’s not worth it to me.” He turned away, unable to witnessthe pain scrawled across her battered face, and returned to the doorway. He paused for the final blow that would guarantee his intended outcome. “I’m glad you’re all right, Lucy. And I hope you live a long and happy life, but it won’t be with me.”

You made the right call.

It’s for her own good.

He continued to assure himself as he approached the elevator doors and jammed the down button repeatedly. He ached from the inside out. Heart shredded to ribbons by his own careless hands. But after some distance, he’d feel better. If not for his sake, then at least in the knowledge that Lucy would be better off in the long run.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he groaned at the slow rise of numbers above the sliding metal doors. Shuffling from one foot to another, he cracked his knuckles, half expecting Lucy to come marching around the corner in her hospital gown. Detached wires trailing behind her, fists clenched with fury in her eyes. She’d shake her finger in his face, he’d raise his hands in surrender, then finally give in. They’d kiss. Once she healed, he’d take her home. Maybe he could be happy. Maybe she would be safe and—

The cheery ding pulled him from his fantasy.

A tall, lean man holding a couple of takeout bags looked up, flashing a blinding grin. “Hey, man.”

Jonathan nodded and stepped into the elevator as the newcomer stepped out. After pressing the lobby button, he turned to face the front. The doors whisked close, but at the last moment, a hand reached through the opening, triggering the sensor to open them wide again.

He was surprised to see the man standing there again.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but are you Jonathan Miller?”

The question jolted Jonathan, and in his bristly state, he wanted nothing more than to grumblewho wants to know?Instead, he said, “I am.”

The man dropped the plastic bags and grabbed Jonathan’s hand tightly in both of his. He shook it furiously, eyes glistening. “Thank you. Thank you for keeping my Lucy safe.”

Clad in well-fitted, dark blue jeans and a brown leather jacket, he stood just taller than Jonathan but with a leaner build. His dark hair was expertly styled in that intentional bedhead fashion, and there wasn’t a callus anywhere on his hands. Meticulously groomed brows furrowed together over blue eyes brimming with emotion.

Brodan.

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