Page 41 of Hearts to Mend

Rico falls asleep right in the middle of our conversation. Right in the middle of everything. As Mateo and I chat with Inez, and Drew and Chloe bring food and coffee to share, Rico sleeps.

Clearly, he’s exhausted. But healing from a stroke is important work, so we let him rest.

Plus, who would dare wake him when he looks so cute? With his adjustable bed angled up for him to sit, his chin slowly dips toward his chest, and his mouth hangs open a little as he dozes. I need to stop staring at him with my big, dumb, girly grin because Drew is watching me, and he sees too much.

In whispers and gestures, we divvy up tasks. Inez will take Mateo home for lunch and a long nap. Drew’s shift starts in an hour, where he’ll update Watts and the team about why I’m taking the day off. Chloe will drop into the paper on her way to Austin for classes, let them know about Rico’s situation, and give my number to his editor if he wants to talk.

And me? I’m on watch-Rico-sleep duty.

It takes a village, I guess. And I’m the village idiot.

What am I doing here? This is a job for a wife or a caregiver, not a fuck buddy. And yeah, maybe I can acknowledge to myself that I’m feeling something stronger for him, but it’s not like we’ve had that conversation yet. Not that anyone else seems to care. Apparently, this community has already decided Rico and I are more than we’ve agreed to be, and they’re going to make this thing happen come hell or high water. Bunch of no-good busybodies with too much time on their hands.

But really, I should leave. I don’t know why I’m still here. Rico’s a big boy. He’s a grown man who survived a damn war; he doesn’t need me watching him sleep like some sparkly vampire.

Still, I stay.

I snooze a little, too, but mostly I stare at this handsome man who was once the boy I loved. I still see him in there, the Rico I used to know. He smiles at me from behind those sad, sexy eyes. His laughter rings in the air when he talks to his son. And now, when he sleeps, his world-weary, battle-hardened edges are softer. When he sleeps, his mask slips.

He’s only down for about an hour when he jolts awake, looking panicked for a moment as he blinks around the room, trying to reorient himself. “Where’s Matty? Where’s everyone?”

“And what am I? No one?” I try to lighten the mood as he comes awake.

After a moment of confusion, he realizes I’m joking and relaxes. Then he grins. “Oh you’re someone all right.”

I’m impressed with the drugs they’ve given him. Less than twenty-four hours since he suffered a stroke, and he’s already flirting again. It’s a miracle of modern science!

Answering his original question, I say, “Mateo and your mom went home for food and naps. Drew and Chloe went to work and school. I’m sticking around until they release you, so I can drive you home.”

“You drew the short straw, huh?”

I laugh, and it feels nice, comfortable. But his expression sinks when he says, “Dee, I’m sorry I guilted you into staying last night. It wasn’t fair of me to pressure you like that.”

I appreciate the apology, but it’s not necessary. “You didn’t pressure me. I was pretty much on board to stay if you wanted me to. Which you did.”

Rico seems surprised, which makes me sad. Despite everything, all our storied history, he can always count on me, no matter what. Have I not made that clear?

“A few weeks ago, when I woke up in the hospital and found you there, I know I gave you hell for that, but it was a comfort I needed. When I was hurting, you made sure I wasn’t alone. That meant a lot to me.”

Rico’s grin pulls at my heart. I can feel the tug, deep down in the center of my chest. It makes me nervous. And my nervousness makes me feel defensive, so I casually tack on, “I’m just returning the favor.”

“Well… Thank you.” He glances down at himself. “Honestly, this is a little embarrassing though.”

“What’s embarrassing?”

“Being in the hospital, laid up in this bed. I feel…weak. And I don’t want to be weak in front of you. When I came back to town, I wanted you to see me as a man who’s worthy of a woman like you, and instead you get to feast your eyes on this.” He fists his hospital gown for emphasis. “A weak, broken man tangled in wires and bruised all over, lying on his back in front of the woman he’s actively trying to woo.”

“You’re trying to woo me?”

“Yeah,” he frowns, “clearly I’m doing a really shitty job of it.”

I come to my feet and cross to his bed, sitting on the edge. Holding his gaze so I can be sure he’s listening, I tell him, “When I look at you, I don’t see anything weak or broken. I see a survivor. I see a man who’s experienced the worst this world has to offer, and still he has the strength to make his little boy feel safe and happy and loved.”

Rico’s breath huffs out of him like I’ve stolen it, and his expression falls. The casual humor of his smile is gone, replaced with a look that’s equal parts invigoration and devastation. Clearly, I’ve touched a nerve.

With hands that hold more strength in them than he could manage last night, Rico laces our fingers together, staring deep into my eyes. “Dee Marie Fletcher, every single moment I get to spend with you makes me fall more in love with you than I’ve ever been before.”

Now I’m the one made breathless. Like I’m drowning, I sink to some new depth within myself where my feelings are as murky as the bottom of the ocean. I don’t know what to say.

---