Page 73 of Rival Desires

“Aye,” I replied smiling, trying to lighten the mood. Carson and I had been so young when we left Scotland that we hadn’t retained much of the accent or lingo, but occasionally, we’d throw it in just to make our family chuckle. And after all the worry this had caused them, it was a good way to let them know I was going to be okay.

“You’re an idiot.” Fury nudged my foot as he stopped at the end of the bed. “How can you not recognize psycho pussy when you see one?”

“Fury.” Theresa shot him a warning look. “He just got out of surgery.”

He shrugged. “At least I’m not punching him in his shoulder. I think that counts as restraint.”

“Don’t worry, Cory,” Rylee chimed in as she came around to the far side of the bed. “I’ve got your back.”

“I’d take that anytime,” I said, reaching for her hand. “Word on the street is my woman broke Becky’s nose and then body-slammed her to the floor.”

“You bet.” Rylee brushed some hair back from my face. “Anyone messes with you, they’re gonna have to deal with me.”

“Right back at ya,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze. “We’ve got each other’s backs.”

For a moment, it was just Rylee and me in the world. I forgot where we were and that we had an audience. Then Fury cleared his throat, and when I looked at him, he shot a pointed glance at our parents.

Oh right.

“You’ve met my parents?” I asked.

“Sort of,” Rylee said, her smile becoming shy. “I wasn’t actually sure how to introduce myself.”

I intertwined my fingers with hers and turned toward my parents, watching the exchange with amused smiles.

“Mom, Dad, this is Rylee Palmer. My, uh, girlfriend.” I might’ve been presumptuous, and Rylee’s raised eyebrow suggested I’d hear about it later, but she didn’t disagree.

“Rylee, these are my folks, Patrick and Theresa.”

“Nice to meet you,” Theresa said, her eyes gleaming. “And thank you for what you did for Cory.”

“He kinda took a bullet for me,” Rylee pointed out.

“But you ensured that woman couldn’t hurt him even more,” Theresa countered. “Thank you.”

Before we could continue our conversation, the door swung open, and a nurse announced it was time for my visitors to leave so I could rest. I wanted to argue, but I could feel my energy waning, and she was right. I needed to sleep.

Rylee gave my hand a little tug, but I held on for dear life. “Hey, how ‘bout you hang out for a bit?” I asked my voice just a hair above a murmur. “Maybe until I doze off?”

She hesitated for a moment, then scooted closer and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. “Alright, deal.”

The knowledge that she’d be there when I opened my eyes again made me throw in the towel. Her face was the last thing I saw before I let sleep sweep me away.

FORTY

Rylee

Cory McCrae was hellbent on giving me a heart attack. Instead of bouncing back quickly and heading home the day after his surgery, he contracted an infection and extended his stay several days, hooked up to an IV of antibiotics. To say I’d been a little preoccupied would be an understatement - I’d barely set foot in the office all week, and my apartment had seen me even less.

Cory had tried hard to shoo me home for some shut-eye, but I’d seen the conflict lurking in his eyes, so I stayed as long as I could.

Fast forward to Friday afternoon, and Cory finally got the green light from the doctor to be discharged. I hightailed it home to quickly sweep the place while Cory waited for the paperwork. I knew he’d want to leave as soon as he was allowed - he’d been trying to talk his way out of there since the day before, but the doctors weren’t budging. They wanted to make sure that everything healed correctly before they let him loose.

I was certain that the doc’s persistence in keeping Cory in the hospital had a little something to do with Fury’s not-so-subtlethreat of suing if Cory wasn’t in tip-top shape when they released him. Not that I’d breathed a word of this to Cory. He’d be seeing red, and let’s be real, Fury was just being an overprotective pain in the ass.

So, I sweet-talked the docs into letting Cory out if he had someone to keep an eye on him. I promised them he could stay at my place for a couple of days. His apartment was still a crime scene, and neither of us was in a hurry to deal with those memories. Thankfully, Fury had hired a professional cleaning crew to scrub the place down, and he swore there’d be no reminders left once they were done.

I wasn’t sure if I could ever set foot in Cory’s apartment again after what happened, but if he felt the need to move back, I’d find a way to deal with it. For now, we were crashing at my place.

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