Page 83 of Turn Up The Heat

“Okay. Just breakfast it is, then.”

Bellamy wrapped her arms around herself and slumped back into the passenger seat. She stared at the traffic, vowing to take the stupid flannel shirt off and stuff it in the giveaway box the minute she walked in the door.

She was going to erase Shane Griffin from her memory if it was the last thing she ever did.

* * *

Shane workedon Bellamy’s transmission until his fingers were numb, letting the movements and the feel of her car under his hands calm him. Finally, somewhere between replacing the bearings and seating the bell housing, the answers starting falling into place, and by the time the sun came up, bright and unyielding over the mountain, Shane knew what he had to do. He thanked Jackson for all of his help and sent him on his weary way before flipping his cell phone into one hand, cradling it in his palm as he dialed.

“Riverside Hospital,” the woman’s pleasant voice purred into the phone.

“I need to check on a patient in the ICU, please.”

“Just a moment.”

After a brief conversation with one of the ICU nurses, Shane learned that Dr. Russell was scheduled to make rounds before his shift ended at nine. Shit, that wouldn’t give him enough time to get back to the cabin to talk to Bellamy if he wanted to make it out there before the doctor left. Measuring his options and liking neither, he scrolled to Bellamy’s number, hitting send. When the call went straight to voicemail, he wasn’t exactly shocked. She had every right to be mad. Still, this wasn’t the sort of thing he wanted to leave on her voicemail. She deserved more than a recorded apology.

She deserved everything. And as soon as he got back to the cabin, he’d give it to her.

* * *

“All in all,you’re incredibly lucky, Mr. Griffin. Even though your episode last year was rather mild, people who suffer more than one heart attack usually have more tissue damage.” Dr. Russell flipped through the results of Grady’s MRI, explaining the details. “You’ll have to stay with us for a little while as you recover, but I don’t think you’ll need the ICU after today. We’ll continue to monitor you, and you’ll have to stay on your medication after you leave, of course. We’ll have to talk about some lifestyle changes as well. But for now, what I really want you to do is keep resting.”

“Got plenty of time to rest when I’m dead,” Grady rasped. His slate-gray eyes didn’t miss a trick, even if he did look like he could use the rest and then some.

Dr. Russell chuckled. “Well, lucky for you, that day won’t be today. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go fill Dr. Singh in on your status before I head out. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He paused to look at Shane, who finally let himself sigh a breath of relief from the visitor’s chair crammed in the corner. “Call the nurses’ station if you need anything, Mr. Griffin.”

“Thanks, doc.” Shane got up to walk him into the hallway. Once he was positive they were out of Grady’s earshot, Shane cleared his throat. “How long a recovery do you think we’re talking about here?”

Dr. Russell weighed Shane carefully with his eyes. “It’s difficult to say. It depends on how well he responds to the medication, but I’m not going to lie to you. For a man his age, it’s not an easy road. I assume he’s retired?”

Shane snorted. “Are you kidding? He was changing out a transmission last night before this happened.”

Dr. Russell’s eyebrows skipped up. “Well, those days are done. Don’t get me wrong,” he added in a rush, no doubt responding to Shane’s look of panic. “I’m not suggesting he sit in a rocker all day. But at this point, he’s going to have to dial back on anything stressful or strenuous in order to stay healthy, that’s all.”

Shane nodded mutely. Oh, this had bad things written all over it. For Chrissake, Grady was stubborn in his sleep.

“Look, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. As he improves over the next few days, we’ll work on a plan to keep him healthy. For the next six weeks, he’s looking at a lot of rest and not much else, but he’s a lucky man. Not everyone has family members so close by who can help out. Speaking of which”—Dr. Russell stopped to eyeball Shane’s rumpled clothes with a pointed look—“Go home and get some sleep. I meant it when I said you won’t be able to help him if you’re dead on your feet.”

“Thanks, Dr. Russell.” Shane watched the man disappear down the hall before heading back into Grady’s room.

“Done talking about me, are you?” One corner of Grady’s mouth lifted slightly in a halfhearted smile.

“For now.” While there wasn’t much sense in lying about it, Shane wasn’t about to wax poetic on the subject, either. “The doctor says you need to rest, so rest is what you’re gonna do. You want me to see what’s on TV?” Shane started to rummage for the remote to the TV anchored on the wall across from Grady’s bed.

“I owe you an apology.”

The words took Shane by complete surprise. “For what?”

“I told you I’d call you when that tranny came in, and I didn’t. Guess I lied to ya a bit so you could spend time with your girl. I’m sorry.” Grady was breathless just from the handful of words.

“I’m not worried about the transmission, Grady.” The last thing Shane wanted to do was open up the can of worms that involved Grady’s work habits. That conversation would have to wait for another time. “The only thing that matters is you’re okay.”

Grady managed a throaty chuckle. “Boy, you don’t even know what you don’t know. Someone offers you an apology, you got two choices. You either accept it, or you don’t. It’s called making amends.”

More raspy breathing, and damn it, this wasn’t resting. “Okay, okay,” Shane said. “I accept your apology. Jeez, Grady. You need to take it easy.”

“And you need to pay attention, son.”

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