Every single thought that Megan had telling her everything would be all right vanished with the harshness in Nash’s voice. She wanted to scream up to the sky, When will this stop? Pretending she hadn’t heard his scathing voice and the way he spoke of her father, she entered the hospital room. “Hi.” She forced a smile.
“Hi,” Nash said, carefully watching her.
He wore a hospital gown, but it was off his one shoulder where the bandage had been placed. Even in a hospital bed, he looked strong and unbreakable, but he was used to hospital visits. Likely much more comfortable there than the random person. She moved next to the bed and knowing exactly what he wanted, she figured she better get over the slight awkwardness of PDA. She dropped her head and pressed her lips softly against his. When she leaned away, he looked beyond smug. She took a seat on the end of the bed and met Jenny’s gaze. Her eyes were beaming and her smile bright. Even Emma and Harper gave loving looks. “Okay, you can all stop looking so happy.”
Emma grinned. “But we are happy you’re together now.”
“Yup. Real happy.” Harper nodded.
Even Jenny gave a quick nod. “It’s about time.”
Shep wasn’t laughing, though. His gaze was on Megan, concern there. He placed his arm around Emma’s neck. “Come on, beautiful, let’s give these two some time alone.”
Emma smiled and said to Megan, “Call me later, all right?” She followed Shep out of the hospital room.
Megan nodded, swallowing the emotion threatening to explode.
Chase stepped closer and tapped his fingers against Nash’s calf. “If you need anything, I’m a phone call away.”
“Appreciate that,” Nash said, “but I’m counting on getting out of here and won’t need shit.”
“Just call if you need anything,” Chase repeated before vanishing through the doorway.
“I’ll be around if you want to talk,” Harper said to Megan, pressing a hand on her shoulder.
Megan didn’t even know where to start.
Jenny rose from her chair and pressed her lips against Nash’s forehead. “You need rest. Make sure to get it.”
“Will do, Ma.” Nash smiled, his head resting against the pillow.
Jenny wrapped Megan in a warm hug before she said softly in her ear, “He’s been waiting for you to get here. You brighten him up, my dear.” With a soft kiss on her cheek, Jenny then strode out the door.
“What did she say to you?” Nash asked, once they were alone.
“Nothing you need to know about.” Megan scooted closer to Nash. He rested his good hand on her leg. So perfect. So comfortable. God, she felt so safe and content around him. And that was where things got so confusing. The hardest part in all this was that the hatred between Nash and her father darkened the news of the baby. Earlier this morning, Megan had been happy, beyond happy now that the shock of the pregnancy had worn off, and Nash seemed happy too.
She’d decided when she left the vet’s that this was happening between them. No more fear. And yet now, the harsh words Nash said about her father replayed in her mind, over and over again. Her motherly instincts were beginning to feel strong and protective, making her want to keep a bubble around this baby to ensure all the stress and anger Nash and her father caused each other wouldn’t ever touch the baby. The last thing she wanted was their child to feel like she had growing up. Even how she felt now. Torn in two directions. Her heart wanting both men but struggling to find a way to do that.
To stop thinking about all this, knowing she would never figure out that answer tonight and needing to be there for Nash, she switched subjects. “I wouldn’t count on getting out of here anytime soon. The nurses were chatting at the nurse’s station out there and said the doctor wanted to keep you overnight.”
“Terrific,” Nash grumbled.
“I called in some extra staff for tonight, so I can stay with you.”
He winked. “That’s better news. How about the kittens?”
“They’re good. Leah said they were really lucky. My mom is watching them tonight.”
Nash nodded then watched Megan intently for a long time. He finally sighed and took her hand with his uninjured arm and tangled his fingers with hers. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that about your father.”
Her throat tightened. Her blood pressure rose. She had no idea what to say anymore. For so long she had been running from Nash. Now she couldn’t run anymore, but the truth was even harder to face, breaking her heart in this impossible situation. To avoid all that, she glanced at the large bandage on his shoulder. “How much pain are you in?”
“Megan. Look at me.” Her eyes connected to the warmth in the depth of his. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that about your father.”
“But I did hear it,” she retorted softly. And suddenly there was a flood of emotion and her mouth had no off switch. “I hear every time you say something about him and the venom in your voice. I see the hatred on your face. And every time I do, I can’t help but ask myself: How can we be a we when you hate the man who raised me?”
“I don’t need to like him,” Nash said, as if this was all very simple. “I need to put up with him, and that I can do.”
She placed her hand on her belly. “I want our baby to know love.”
His gaze flashed with intensity. “Our baby will only know love.”
He believed that, Megan was certain. She saw his truth written all over his face. Hell, she had no doubt that he wanted to believe everything was going to work out. But . . . “How can you be certain?” Her lip quivered, nearly pleading for him to explain all the things she couldn’t see.
“Because this”—he took her hand and squeezed it tight—“this is real and honest and good. Nothing will get in the way of that.”
Before she would have shut him down, thrown up a wall, not let him close to her heart. To protect herself. Not now. There was nothing keeping him out anymore. Because maybe if she put herself on the line, he’d mirror her action.
She placed her hand over his. “You’re the realest thing I’ve ever had. And now that I’ve had us, I can’t imagine life being any other way.”
The surprise in his eyes was a rare and stunning thing for Nash Blackshaw.
Though before he could respond, the nurse strode into the room. “How’s the patient doing?” she asked.
“Ready to be discharged,” Nash said, staring at Megan.
“That won’t be happening tonight, and there will be no arguments about it.” The nurse went for the IV and began looking it over and pressing some buttons. “But we can leave you alone for the rest of the night since you’re all topped up here.” She examined a second bag of fluid on the stand. “If you need anything, press the call button and we’ll come right in.” She turned to Nash and smiled warmly. “What you need more than anything now is rest.” She pointed to the morphine drip. “You have yet to take any pain medicine. Don’t be too tough. The first couple days of a burn are excruciating. The morphine is there to make you more comfortable.”
“Mm-hmm,” said Nash.
Megan rolled her eyes at the nurse. Tough Nash would never deign to take morphine. That would simply be beneath him.
“We’ll check in on you in the morning.” The nurse moved to the door and flicked off the lights, bathing the room in a soft glow that came from the small light above the bed.
When Megan looked back, Nash was still staring at her. He slid his fingers over the strands of hair near her face. “Freckles, why are you looking so sad?”
Tears she fought hard against welled in her eyes and she barely managed, “I’m just emotional.” Her heart was weak, exposed.
“You’re killing me here.” Nash’s voice became tender as he brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “Please tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Oh, my God, stop.” She wiped away the tear. “You’re the one in the hospital. Let’s focus on you. You need to rest.”
“Megan.”
Her palms grew sweaty. Her head felt dizzy. She couldn’t talk about this right now. She needed to think past all the emotions. “The nurse said you should rest.”
He arched a defiant brow. “I say we have to talk.”
Desperate for space, and time to think all this through, she reached for the morphine drip and pressed the little red button.
Nash’s eyes narrowed. “You did not just do that.”
“Now you’ll sleep.” She forced a smile, keeping it together for one more second.
His eyes went a little cross-eyed. “Oh, fuck. Sleep. Yeah, that’s good.” A moment later, he was snoring softly.
Megan’s breath whooshed out, and then she let the tears fall, softly sobbing into her hands.
* * *
Late into the night, Nash opened his eyes to a dark room with only the full moon casting light into the space. The morphine haze made him slow to fully wake. It took a good few minutes for his mind to clear, and then he realized he wasn’t alone. Megan slept, all tucked against him like she always belonged there. Her head rested on his good shoulder, and she breathed deep with sleep. The other shoulder burned in agony. That didn’t matter now. He marveled at how she felt in his arms like this—so perfect, so right. Though also in that comfort, he remembered the pain on her face before sleep had stolen him away.
He felt like the world’s biggest asshole. He didn’t even question why she’d pressed the button. She had been raw, exposed, and he had crushed her. Brutally.
Yeah, he’d done that. You fucking idiot.
For as long as Nash could remember, he’d thought of Megan as strong and steady. She was the tough girl that took no shit from anyone. The sassy girl with the smart mouth. Now he knew some of that was for show, and that toughness concealed a beautifully gentle and loving heart. One that was torn in two directions, that was so desperate for love. True love. Real love. The love she told him her grandparents had. Love where anger and hatred did not exist.
Now that he saw what her heart wanted, he wanted to give her that and so much more. His pride and loyalty to his family suddenly meant nothing while seeing those things were exactly the reason that she hurt.
Maybe she sensed his tension because she suddenly opened her eyes, catching him watching her. “Hi,” she said softly.
He frowned, knowing it likely looked weak. “That was not very nice of you.”
“Yes, it was,” she said with a soft laugh. “You needed to sleep, and you wouldn’t have ever pressed that button.”
“I don’t take drugs,” he said.
She placed her hand beneath her cheek on his arm. “Sometimes you need to let someone—or something—help you.”
After the accident, he hated the way the drugs made him foggy. And he loathed having to get help.
Nash stared into Megan’s eyes that were puffy from her obvious crying when he’d been sleeping. Fuck, he did that to her. “I’m sorry.” The words left his mouth in a rush.
Her eyes widened. Then she blinked twice. “I think that might be the first time I’ve ever heard you apologize.”
“Because I don’t apologize for much that I do.” He sat up in bed, making her rise with him. A rush of pain made him dizzy for a moment, but then he focused on the need to touch her. Using his good hand, he cupped her face. “I know what I said about your father hurt you, and for that I am sorry.”
Her shoulders lifted with her heavy exhale. “It’s hard, you know. I get why you hate my dad so much. He was horrible to your family. He still is really horrible to you whenever you two talk. Really awful. That cutthroat business side of my father is not something I’ve ever been proud of, and I’ve told him that. But to me . . .”
Nash’s throat began to tighten. She hid nothing from him now. For the first time, he saw what the feud was doing to her emotionally. “He’s your daddy,” Nash finished for her.
She nodded, her chin quivering. “That’s what makes this all so hard. I don’t know how to fix this between you.”
Nash regarded her, finally understanding that this longtime fight between the families was continuing to take an extreme toll one her. The one person who shouldn’t be involved at all. He caressed the softness of her cheek. “It’s not your job to fix anything, Megan.”
“Then whose job is it?” Her eyes pleaded at him for an answer. “I’m the one responsible for this little one.” She placed her hands on her belly. “I need to somehow find a way to make the two most important dads in my life get along before he or she gets here.”
Megan paused, the kind of loaded heavy pause telling him he wasn’t going to like what she said next, and he didn’t.
“Yelling, screaming, name calling,” she added, “it’s not the life I want our child around. I don’t want our sweet baby to face the same struggles that I did.”
Nash felt a lot of things, many emotions even he didn’t understand. Though the only thing that mattered now was Megan. Not their land. Not his pride. Nothing. Only her. And his child. Because now he saw he was a part of the reason her heart was breaking. “I’ll make this right with your father,” he told her.
She side-eyed him. “Seriously? Just like that?”
Seeing everything with new eyes, he confirmed, “Yeah, just like that.” He watched her expression fill with disbelief, so he set her straight. “You’ve never shared any of this with me before. Yes, I got that you didn’t understand the feud between our families. But I didn’t know how much this hurt you. You’ve never shown that to me. I didn’t know”—he hesitated, and he cupped her face, amazed how she leaned into him—“I never saw what you’ve been trying to show me since you told me about the baby. I won’t hurt you, Megan. That is the last thing I want.”
“But you hate my dad.”
Nash leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers. “I care about you more.”
She dropped her mouth against his then, moving in a perfect sensual rhythm, making him hard. He tasted the tears on her cheeks when she pulled away the blankets between them, then she lifted his hospital gown. He groaned when she straddled him, now aware she wasn’t wearing her jeans, only her panties. His eyes shut as her warm sex pressed against his erection, and she rocked her hips back and forth.
“Megan.” He nibbled on her neck in all the places he knew made her squirm. When he reached her chin, he lifted his hand to tilt her head and pain nearly blinded him. He dropped his head back on the pillow and inhaled sharply. “Bad idea.”
She rocked her hips again, soothing away the pain with pleasure, and removed her tank top and bra. Then she leveled him with a playful grin. “Move that hand again and I’ll tie it down.”
Nash stared at her intently. The hard peaks of her nipples. The deep way she breathed. There was a time to take control, and there was a time to give it away. He remembered when his physical therapist did little things to give Nash control in his life after the accident. He also recalled how incredible that felt. Maybe Megan would like that.
Regardless of the pain he knew he’d endure, he lifted his arm and hissed.
“Oh, is that so?” she practically purred.
“Yeah, Freckles, that’s so.” He dropped his head back to the pillow, breathing through the pain. “Whatcha going to do about it?”
Using her tank top, she took his wrist and tied his uninjured arm to the hospital bed where he supposed they restrained people if necessary. Without missing a beat, she restrained his other arm with her bra. Tight.
When her gaze met his again, he hardly recognized his own deep voice. “Cowboy up, Freckles.”
Keeping her eyes on him, she removed her panties then rested her hands on his chest and took him in one long, slow movement. He groaned against her warm wetness, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He slid his hands around the hospital bed, holding on to the thin posts, not wanting to pull against her bindings. This was the most erotic thing he had ever let a woman do to him, and he never wanted her to stop.
The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, she moved slowly, grinding her hips, letting him see all of her. Her back was arched, her hard nipples angled up, awaiting his mouth. The tease became all consuming. Now he realized why he always did the tying up. This was sheer torture. The way her creamy flesh looked with the moonlight cascading across her face and gorgeous body. The way her hair curtained her face. Even how her lips were parted with her sweet, quiet moans. Taking what she wanted, and how she wanted it, she rode him with a fluid rock of her hips, every single thrust making him harder and her wetter.
He tightened his good hand on the bed railing and restrained his moan, so as not to draw the nurse’s attention, while Megan began moving faster and faster, back and forth. Her breasts bounced, but Nash couldn’t look away from her face, not when she was claiming her pleasure. Especially since she stared right at him. Boldly. Sensually.
Though, soon, those unique stunning eyes were gone as she arched her back and her breath hitched. She shuddered once then breathlessly came atop him. Her inner walls convulsed against his shaft with each and every throaty moan she gave.
Every man had a limit.
Nash’s had been hit.
Desperate to fill her with nothing but unleashed raw euphoria that he knew he could give her, he yanked his hand out from the tank top, grabbed the back of her neck, pressing her chest against his, and pumped his hips up into her until her hitching moans sounded by his ear.
Her inner muscles contracted again, his shaft drenched in her arousal. He gripped her neck tight, holding her close, keeping her right where he wanted. He moved hard and fast, getting her higher, needing to take her there again. Because he fucking needed her. He wanted her happy, only feeling good. Nothing else would work for him anymore.
With a wild shudder, followed by several quiet moans and his frantic thrusts, she broke apart above him. He joined her, grunting his pleasure deep inside her, releasing all that he had to give. His strength faltered, the day, the injury, the emotion, leaving his eyes closed and his muscles heavy.
Sometime later, she said, “That is not how that’s supposed to go.” She leaned up and rested her hands on either side of his head on the pillow. “When someone ties you up, you are supposed to stay tied up.”
“Not when I make the rules.” He had yet to look at her. The pain from his shoulder suddenly blinded him.
With quick, gentle fingers, she untied his bound wrist and removed the tank top from the bed, then dressed before climbing under the blankets with him, setting his hospital gown back into place.
Nash let go of the bed railing, and blistering pain dragged a grunt from his throat.
“You’re in pain.”
Not a question, a statement.
“Totally worth it.” He finally managed to open his eyes and reached for the morphine button. “Besides, I have this glorious shit.”
She gave him a cute look. “I thought you didn’t do drugs.”
“It was either drugs or no sex.” He scooted back down the bed, getting comfortable against the pillow, biting back the curse words on the tip of his tongue from the seething agony burning his shoulder. “Tell me what I want to hear, Freckles.”
She snuggled into him. He wondered if she’d refuse him. He nearly filled the long silence. Until she planted her mouth by his ear and laughed softly. “I really, really like you, Nash Blackshaw.” Then she kissed his cheek.
“Ah, and there it is.” He held her close and clicked the morphine button, taking those final words into his dreams.