Page 93 of His Own Heaven

Awareness dawned on the ambo’s face. “Ah. I see. Well, if you start exhibiting any other symptoms—”

“I’ll take care of her,” Toby said, helping her to her feet.

Lifting the arm she’d shielded herself with, Lucy inspected the bandage lightly wrapped around it. Andy nodded at the limb. “It’s a superficial burn but I put some cooling gel on it to ease the sting. It should heal fully in a week or so. The bandage is just to keep the dirt out of the gel. You can take it off when you get home.”

“Can I take her home now?”

“Sure,” Andy said, packing away his kit. “Give her paracetamol for the pain and, uh,”—he cleared his throat—“maybe go easy on her for a couple of days.”

Toby thanked the ambo then lifted Lucy in his arms as if she weighed nothing, and cradled her to his chest, careful of her sore head and arm. From the corner of her eye she saw Toby’s office door was open and Charlie was hugging his girls, tears streaming down their cheeks.

“Are the girls okay?”

“Thanks to you they are. I heard everything you said over the phone, baby. You were amazing.”

She snuggled closer, clung to the security he was offering her and let out a steadying breath. “I was terrified.”

“Terrified?” he teased softly as he walked them through the garden centre, ignoring the people gawking at them as they passed. “I thought you weren’t afraid of anything.”

“Except losing you,” she admitted quietly. “And the girls and Charlie.” She sniffed back her tears even as she began to shake. Shock was setting in. “You gave me a family. You all did. And every day I wake up scared that it was all a dream, that it will all be gone. That you’ll be gone.” His thick arms tightened around her, crushing her. “I love you, Toby. I love you and I want to spend my life with you.”

“I love you too, baby. And I’m so sorry you had to go through this alone,” he said, gently fingering the bruise she could feel swelling her cheek. “I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner.”

Lucy swiped the back of her hand over her eyes in a vain attempt to dry her tears. She really hated crying. “What took you so long?”

“Isobel sent us on a wild goose chase, then Charlie got pulled over for speeding, then the cops took their time verifying our story. But when they got the go ahead, they gave us a police escort all the way here.”

“Schmancy,” Lucy said, hiccoughing a laugh. Toby helped her into his truck as they watched his mother and Scary Dude being loaded into the back of a paddy wagon. “What happened to his face?”

Toby grunted. “My fist happened. Repeatedly.” At Lucy’s wide-eyed stare, he added, “No one hurts my woman.” Then his expression turned sheepish. “There may be an assault charge heading my way.”

Lucy grinned. Toby’s brother, Rafe, could probably get the assault charge dropped in five minutes flat for extenuating circumstances. “Okay, so what happens now?” she asked as Toby climbed into the driver’s seat. He’d put her in the middle seat again, and she leaned her head on his shoulder, took comfort from his big body being so close to hers, so warm and strong and protective.

Her lover took her hand in his and threaded their fingers together. “I take you home, wash what I’m hoping is just coffee out of your hair and put you to bed.”

“Is that all,” she asked, pouting slightly with disappointment. She’d expected a better reward than an early bedtime.

Hooking a knuckle under her chin, Toby lifted her face to his. “How about I make you scream my name first,” he whispered, his deep, sensual voice liquefying her insides into pure molten lust.

Lust she saw reflected in his stormy gaze. “How many times?”

She felt his smile against her mouth before he kissed her, slow and long and deep. “As many times as you want, baby.”

Epilogue

The Forge, Christmas morning

“You go first,”Lucy said, thrusting the small, delicately wrapped present into Toby’s hands. He felt like the giant he was, sitting on the bed and staring down at the thing his lover had placed in the middle of his palm. It was about the size of a pen box.

He curled his fingers around it and shook his head. “You go first,” Toby said, proud of the fact he’d kept the nervous shake out of his voice as he settled her gift in her lap. “I insist.”

He actually had three presents for Lucy and all of them had only been wrapped the night before. Not because they were last minute gifts—he’d put his gift-giving game plan into action months ago—but because it had taken that long to get them.

He maybe also kinda asked Abby and Jane to wrap them for him.

He’d tried, he really had, but as he’d sat at the kitchen table and nervously fumbled with the wrapping paper for the sixth time, he’d conceded defeat and begged his sisters for help. Thankfully they adored Lucy and agreed she shouldn’t be given gifts that looked like they’d been wrapped by a toddler on a sugar high.

“Okay.” One corner of her mouth twitched up as she lifted the present and ripped off the brightly coloured paper. The picture frame was upside down. “What’s this?” she asked, turning it over so she could see the photo. And then she almost dropped it. “Michael.”

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