Page 49 of The Valentine Inn

Chapter Sixteen

Well, Drake wasn’t dying. Instead, he was going to give birth to a three-millimeter spiky stone in about a week or two. Mazel tov.

As much as I didn’t like to see him in such pain, I thought it was only fair. I mean, I pushed out his nine-pound baby without drugs. And there he was, resting peacefully with Jameson’s teddy bear after they pumped him full of the good stuff, whatever that meant. They weren’t admitting him to the hospital, but since he was dehydrated, they were keeping him for a few hours to monitor his vitals and push IV fluids. I honestly think it was because some of the nurses didn’t want to see him go.

I sat next to his bed and watched his chest move up and down in a fluid motion, wondering what secrets he kept and how much longer I could hold on to mine. I knew once the news got out, a firestorm awaited us. The media was going to be all over it like a sweaty body rolled in sand. How was I going to explain to Jameson that Drake was his father and what that meant for us? Drake was no ordinary human. Sure, he put his pants on one leg at a time like the rest of us, but those pants cost a thousand dollars and he sent them out to be laundered. Then there was the matter of Drake making me his beneficiary. Why would he do such a thing, after not contacting me for so long? We had so much to discuss, but I needed him to be lucid.

Whatever they had given him made him loopy. We’re talking loopity loopy. Before he’d fallen asleep, he’d grabbed my shirt and pulled me close to his face and asked, “Have you always had blue eyes?” I’d giggled and said yes. “They are so beautiful,” he responded, and then passed out.

I wondered if I could get whatever he was on. I was exhausted and could use a good snooze before my life imploded. And I knew it was going to. I had worked for Drake long enough to know how this was all going to go—it was just a matter of when the pin dropped. That’s why I needed Drake to wake up. We needed to figure things out before the world closed in on us. Before I had reporters begging for details and trying to snap pictures of my son.

I curled into myself on the uncomfortable chair and rested my head on my knees. It was almost midnight, and my body begged for some sort of rest—even in the small, sterile room decorated with posters of what smoking does to your body. While contemplating all my life choices, I must have dozed off, as I startled awake to the sound of my name.

“Charlotte,” Drake whispered.

My eyes popped open, while my feet hit the floor. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?” I automatically said, half-asleep.

“I’m fine. You look uncomfortable.” He didn’t sound high anymore.

“I am.” I stretched my back.

He patted the spot next to him on the bed. “Come lie down.”

I gripped the arms of the chair before I did something stupid and accepted his invitation. “Uh . . . I remember what happened the last time you invited me into your bed.” Did I ever. I felt flush all of a sudden.

He gave me a sexy, albeit sleepy, smile—saying he remembered too. “As I recall, it was you who came out of the bathroom in just a towel, knowing exactly what you were doing.”

Yeah, I had. I bit my lip. “Regardless, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Charlotte, I’m half-drugged and we’re in a hospital room; I think it’s a safe bet that nothing will happen. Unless you decide to accost me again.” He smirked.

“Hey, I did not accost you. It was a mutual accosting.”

“Yes, it was mutual.”

“Do you regret it, Drake?” I had to know.

“Not once,” he said without having to think about it. “Now come lie down. You have to be exhausted.”

I was. So, so exhausted. But . . . “If a nurse comes in here and sees us in bed together, do you know the rumors that would start?”

“Charlotte, you knew the minute we walked in here together what people were going to think. We can’t stop that now.”

“I know,” I sighed.

He set Mr. TJ to the side and lifted up his blanket. “Come here.”

His invitation was too tempting, and my body begged to lie down, so I found myself crawling into bed with Drake. Izzy was of course back to yelling at me, in my head, telling me I was making another huge mistake. I tried to tame her by reminding her I was a mother now and could control myself. Not to mention he was hooked to an IV and we were in a hospital room—where at any moment someone could, and certainly would, come walking in. There was nothing to fear—you know, other than me feeling right at home in Drake’s arms.

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