Page 83 of Geordie

“Lily, hen, you're bleeding.”

Chapter forty

Cocksure Rich Asshole

Geordie

Igatherherintomy arms like a rag doll, as Harv, Layla, and of all people Stephen come onto the patio. “What happened?” Stephen demands. He looks like he's ready to blame me.

“She cut her hand during the dinner service,” Harv says. “I just stepped out to ask Layla for the use of the truck to take her to the hospital.”

“I'll take her,” I say. Layla holds out the keys for me until I catch them in my hand.

“Shouldn't we call an ambulance?” Stephen asks, whipping his phone out, his fingers speeding over the buttons.

“It'll take too long,” I say, striding for the door.

“I'm going with you.” Stephen stops his dialing to catch up with me.

“There's no room. If you want to come, follow me to the hospital.”

I get an uneasy sense of déjà vu when I walk into the hospital with Lily in my arms. A gurney is provided, and she's wheeled away through double doors down a long antiseptic hallway. I step up to the receptionist I spoke to a few minutes earlier when we arrived. She glances up when I approach.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“Can I be with her?”

“Are you family?” the distracted woman asks.

“He's not family.” Stephen's self-assured voice assails me from behind.

“I'm her employer.” It's a stretch, but I'll use it if it'll help.

“What's your name?”

“Geordie.”

“Stephen,” he chimes in.

“Are you family?” she asks, looking at Stephen.

“He's not,” I say, interrupting him. “He's an ex-boyfriend.”

She peers over her monitor to get a good look at us. “You can sit over there,” nodding to a waiting room. “I'll let her know that you're both here. She'll make the decision.”

Stephen keeps pace with me like an annoying wee dog, not letting me out of his sight. He's projecting an unaffected casual look with a slight ruffle to the hair, tie loosened, like an ad for men's formalwear. I turn away, gazing out the window at the cars dropping off at the ER, ignoring his company, the waiting room, and the endless announcements over the intercom.

“You don't need to stay, MacTavish. I can take it from here. I'll tell Lily you showed up.”

That's a joke. I carried her limp body to the truck. She gained consciousness while en route, but she was quiet throughout the ride. Lily clung to me while I carried her to the ER. I'm not leaving her like a sack of unwanted oats. “That wouldn't be the right thing to do. She was injured on my property; I'll stay until I know she's alright. Lily might need my help.”

He shrugs. “Suit yourself, but she'll want to see someone familiar. We've been together a long time,” shoving his hands in his pockets, his shoulder against the glass, looking more like a cocksure rich asshole. “We've broken up, more times than I can count, but she always comes back to me no matter our disagreement, because we belong together.”

I think about Lily back there. The not knowing what's going on is taking its toll on me. She shouldn't be alone, forced to make decisions by herself. Thiswe belong togethershite would explain why she has me at a distance. Lily said he didn't want a family, but she still might end up with this poser. Am I looking at a man who will be a step-father to my child?

“What's your relationship with Lily? You seem to pop in and out of her life with not much success. Has she lost interest and you're trying to revive something that's dead?”

He straightens up, stepping forward, ready for the fight he's been bating me to have, and I say it's long overdue.

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