Page 18 of Stockman's Stormcloud

‘Now what?’

‘Now we go public.’ She held out her right elbow to him, because he’d need the balance if he was light-headed. But walking and breathing would help his lungs, hopefully stopping his need to concentrate so hard.

‘Sophie Pendleton, if I’m going to be seen walking the halls with a woman, you’ll be doing it my way.’ Dex held out his left elbow to her.

She giggled at the guy, being all formal, as she held his elbow, the skin warm and the muscles strong. ‘Coming, Mr Purrington?’

The cat just rolled on the bed as if rolling in Dex’s scent.

‘The cat likes your bed.’

‘He can have it. I’ll be gone in the morning.’ Dex was already heading for the door.

‘Slowly. I don’t want you to faint.’ She leaned in closer to adjust his breathing mask, catching a whiff of his scent, that was both rugged and captivating. Despite the sterile hospital environment, his natural scent lingered to reveal an enticing blend of hard work and raw masculinity.

Itwas an intoxicating combination that spoke of strength and endurance, it was like catnip for her.

‘Are you looking forward to going home?’

‘Yes, to getting out of here, but also no—I’m being forced to crash on Bree’s couch.’

‘Bree? Your girlfriend.’ Didn’t that douse her desires with a bucket of cold water.

His curt laugh was brief as he stopped to breathe. ‘The enemy more like it.’

‘Is that the redhead who brought you here?’

Dex nodded. But the look he had was of pure admiration for this bossy Bree. ‘Did Bree stay?’

‘When?’

‘The night I arrived.’

‘Why?’

‘I need to know if she did. I had her promise me something.’ He gripped the oxygen cart with a powerful hand, the veins accentuating the muscles along his forearm, as he shuffled down the corridor, in between short stops to breathe.

The trolley had a simple, black metal frame and two rubber wheels that rolled quietly over the polished linoleum floors. The bent handle made up part it’s spine, where it securely strapped the cylindrical oxygen tank. A hook sat on top to hold the clear, coiled tube to stop it snagging as it trailed up to the patient's face. Despite its simplicity, the trolley was a lifeline, and a constant reminder of the fragility of the patient’s condition as she kept a light touch on his elbow, accompanying him through the sterile, echoing corridors of the sleeping hospital.

‘Bree was here.’The bossy britches.‘We couldn’t get her out.’ Sophie had tried, but that stubborn redhead refused to move, playing the part of some bodyguard to the king. ‘You know, Bree made me find a spare bed for her grandfather to sleep on.’ After Charlie went and visited everyone in the ward like it was some social outing.

‘Charlie’s a good man.’ Again, Dex stopped to breathe.Only this time, he tugged his arm free from her grip to grab the rail that ran down the corridor, dragging the oxygen cart behind him. ‘And what did Bree do? Annoy everyone, I’ll bet.’

‘Surprisingly, no.’ Oops, that wasn’t meant to slip out. ‘Bree pulled out her tablet and read while watching over you.’

‘That first night?’

She nodded. ‘Your oldest brother—Ryder? —came in an hour later and sat with her.’

Dex stopped, his eyes widening as he took short, sharp breaths. ‘Big guy, short beard, angry looking?’

‘Angrier looking than you?’

‘That’s him.’

Sophie nodded. ‘He’s a man of few words.’

‘That’s him.’ Again, Dex started shuffling down the corridor. ‘What was Ryder doing while I was forced to take a nap?’ He scowled at the floor, like he’d been betrayed for being put into an induced coma. But they had to because his lungs were spasming so much he couldn’t breathe on his own.

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