Page 29 of Flirting with the Scrooge

“But I have to get going. Thanks for stuffing all the invites.” She ties her boots, throws her coat on, and tucks one box of invites under her arm.

“Of course. Let me help you.” I grab the other box, slide my boots on, and tug on my coat. Olivia opens the door and I follow behind her. She places her box in the back seat and I put the other box next to it.

She stares across the street where Connor is still chopping wood. “Good luck with that one.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

I shake my head. “Thanks.”

I stand off to the side of the snow covered asphalt and wave as she reverses out onto the street. Her taillights fade out of sight and my gaze lingers where her SUV was, and it just so happens to be in the direct line of sight to where Connor is standing.

With focused determination, he swings the axe overhead and brings it down with a resounding thud that reverberates between the houses. Each strike showcases a rhythmic precision that’s almost hypnotizing. Wood chips and splinters fly in all directions with each strike of the blade. My boots are rooted into the snow. I cross my arms over my chest, my finger runs over my bottom lip as I remember what it was like having his lips on mine. The way his muscles flexed and moved as he hovered over me. The axe rises above his head and slams down on a log, but slips.

My heart stops as a gut-wrenching howl echoes through the neighborhood.

SIXTEEN

WILL YOU STAY?

Tatum

My heart pounds like a bass drum in a too small of space as I sprint across the road, not bothering to check for traffic. When I get to him, he’s doubled over, wheezing in pain.

“Are you alright?” Panic laces my voice.

He lifts his head and glares at me. His nostrils flaring as he breathes through the pain.

“Yeah. Sorry. Stupid question. What happened?”

“The blade of the axe got my foot,” he says through gritted teeth.

My gaze drops. An axe blade size slice cuts through the leather of his boot.

“I need to get the boot off,” he says.

“Okay. Um.” Frantically, I glance around to find something for him to sit on. Off to the side, I find a large log. “Got it.”

Quickly, I rush over to the log, kick it over, and roll it. Once it’s close to him, I wrap my fingers around the end and tip it up so it’s standing on the end. He hobbles to it and lowers himself down while I hold his arm for assistance. Once he’s seated, I kneel in the snow in front of him and rip open the laces, loosening them as far as they’ll go. With my hand on the heel, I slowly peel the boot off. He winces in pain as I finish pulling it off his foot. My heart stops. His entire sock is stained red. I’ve never seen this much blood.

“Oh shit. We need to get you to the hospital.”

He winces as he tries to shift his weight on the log.

“I’ll be right back. I’m going to get my car.” Pushing to my feet, I rush back across the street and inside to get my keys and a couple of towels for his foot. Within minutes, I’m parking in Connor's driveway. I wrap his arm around my shoulders, and we hobble to the open passenger door. Once he’s seated, I wrap one towel around his foot and do my best to tie it as tight as possible. That will have to do until we get to the hospital.

I sit in the waiting room. My leg bounces nervously as I standby to hear any news about Connor. My mind wanders to all the possible worst case scenarios. What if he did more damage than we thought, and they had to amputate his foot? What if he gets an infection that leads to sepsis? I jump to my feet. Sitting and waiting is making me anxious. I pace back and forth, chewing on my thumbnail.

A set of double doors open and my gaze darts to an older gentleman in a white lab coat. “Connor Tyler,” he calls out.

I rush toward him. “Yes. That’s me. Is he okay?”

“Yes. Mr. Tyler is doing just fine. He’s in recovery right now. We put some stitches in his foot but there doesn’t appear to be any serious damage. We just need to finish up some paperwork and then he can go home. Would you like to see him?”

“Yes. Please.”

He nods and directs me to follow him back through the double doors. We walk down a couple of different hallways. Nurses and doctors float around between the different rooms. The doctor enters a room and my pace slows as I approach. The last time I was in a hospital was when I was visiting my nana after she got sick. She seemed so small and fragile as she lay in the bed. Fortunately, I got to see her one last time before she passed. Even though this isn’t the same, all the same feelings wash over me as soon as I see Connor lying in the bed.

“Hi.” My voice is soft.

His head rolls my way, and a weak smile plays on his lips. The edges of my lips spread into a comforting smile. I want him to know I’m here for him. Whatever he needs.

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