Chapter Twenty-two
Staff Nurse Florence Hore’s eyes were the prettiest color, the blue of spring skies. Trapped in a glare-off, Viv only noticed the darker shards embedded in the iris.
“The fact that you’re embroiled in yet another argument, this time with my patient’s husband, doesn’t remotely interest me,” she’d said when Viv had rushed in and demanded her sister’s immediate discharge. “Until the surgeon has given Mrs. Coltrane her final clearance and signed the discharge papers, I’m not authorized to release her.”
“So let’s phone the guy, get him out here. As I’ve already explained—twice—it’s a family emergency.”
Viv might as well have suggested dragging the Pope away from holy mass. “We do not,” Florence said, “call out our specialists for anything but an emergency.”
Viv glared. “This is an emergency. My sister’s kids—”
“General Hospital called,” Florence said. “They want their melodrama back.”
Viv blinked first. “Damn it. To hell with this. You know what, Nurse Ratched? We’re leaving anyway, with or without your permission.”
“In that case…” Florence picked up the phone and punched in a number. “Security?”
Viv leaned forward and cut the connection. “Fine—you win. We’ll wait until tomorrow.” She added bitterly, “You probably miss the old days when surgery was performed without anesthetic.”
“And we were allowed to call people like you lunatics…yes.”
Frustrated, Viv returned to her sister’s room, where she found Merry trying to pace on crutches. She looked up hopefully but Viv shook her head. “We’ll have to wait until tomorrow…. How about you, any luck getting hold of Charlie?”
“He’s not answering…his cell, Linda’s phone, our phone. Tell me the truth, Viv, how upset were the kids?”
Merry read the answer on her face and paled. “Why didn’t I tell him earlier,” she said, and burst into tears. “My poor babies.”
Viv swallowed the lump in her throat “To hell with this,” she repeated. “We’re breaking you out of here.”
“But the specialist—”
“You’re a nurse. Is there any medical reason you can’t go home now?”
“No.”
“So it’s bureaucracy and Florence on a power trip. We just have to work out how we’ll do it without alerting her. Get dressed and put your hospital gown over the top. I’ll go find Ross.” Parking was notorious around the hospital so he’d dropped her off while he circled the lot.
“He’s not going to go along with this.”
Was she right? Viv experienced a resurgence of doubt. True to his word, he’d fallen asleep en route to Hamilton—how could he have slept at a time like this? On the other hand, he’d needed to. He’d looked terrible.
“Do you think he’ll help?” Merry looked skeptical.
“I don’t know,” Viv said honestly. The kiss in the parking lot seemed a lifetime ago. “All I can do is ask.”
* * *
“So that’s the situation,” Ross told Dan. Cell pressed to his ear, he stepped aside to let two ambulance officers push a stretcher bed carrying an old man into Accident and Emergency. Pale, blinking to clear his vision, disorientated. Probably a stroke. “Basically,” he said to Dan, “it’s all turned to shit.”
“You need me there?”
“Not at the moment, we’ll take Meredith home and see what happens. I’ll keep you updated.” He changed the subject. “Listen, you were right with your concerns about my redeployment.”
“Ice, they weren’t concerns about your redeployment, they were concerns about you. No,” he amended, “they were concerns about me. I need you alive.”
“Yeah, well, I’m sorry. For behaving like an asshole.”
“That’s okay, I’m used to it. Anyway, we’ll sort this out, mate. It’s not fair that you stand to lose Charlie because of my damn sisters.”
“We’re playing the one for all and all for one card now.” Gingerly, Ross touched the bridge of his nose. The peas had reduced the swelling substantially. Enough to establish it wasn’t broken. “So, while I have you on the line, tell me how to sweet-talk Hurricane Viv. It’s become kinda important.”
“You seriously think I’m going to help you nail my sister?”
“Actually I’ve already nailed her.” Ross checked for the women’s orthopedic ward on the board beside the elevator. “I need advice on talking her into some kind of commitment.”
There was a long silence. “You want to marry my sister?…No, Jo, there’s no way I’m handing over the phone now.”
“For God’s sake, Shep.” Frowning, Ross pushed the elevator button. “Don’t mention the M word around Viv or you’ll scare her off. But…maybe…” He tested the idea.
“Eventually.” It began to have appeal. “Actually, yeah. Possibly a long campaign,” he added thoughtfully, “unless I catch her in a weak moment, but I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
None of which were suitable for sharing with big brothers. Impatiently he jabbed the elevator button again. “So do I have your blessing?”
“Hell, no.” His best friend sounded appalled. “You need to prove yourself first. I need a history of stability…at least six months.”
“I’m glad you don’t approve,” Ross reflected. “That would have made it too easy.”
“Ross.” Jo came on the line, possibly after a struggle because she sounded out of breath. “Is it true? You want to marry Viv?”
He grinned. “You hate being left out of the loop, don’t you, journalist?”
“You know it.”
“I suppose you want every juicy detail.”
“Yes…. Wait a minute. You’re going to hang up on me, aren’t you?”
“No. You owe me a favor for helping you kidnap Dan and I’m calling it in. Keep your overprotective husband out of my wooing.”
“You’ve got it,” she said, then coughed delicately. “Alpha Hole, you do know wooing isn’t dragging Viv off by her hair, don’t you?”
“Now I’m hanging up on you,” said Ross, and did. The elevator finally arrived and disgorged its occupants, including his intended. His target. Whatever. Her anxious frown lifted as Viv caught sight of him.
“The duty nurse won’t allow Merry to leave until tomorrow and has security on speed dial if we try.” Catching his arm, she hustled him away from the elevator and lowered her voice. “We’re going to have to smuggle her out.”
He sighed. “Of course we are.”
* * *
From Merry’s hospital bed, Viv glanced over at her twin who stood behind the heavy swing door, holding it open in one hand, her crutches in the other. She wore street clothes, the pencil skirt and blouse she’d left the house to interview in a week earlier.
It was lucky, Viv thought inconsequentially, that her sister always wore half a dress size too big for her. The skirt fitted over her cast…just. “Ready?” she asked.
Merry swallowed. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” She hid behind the door. Placing a pillow over her left leg, Viv tented the sheet over the bulge, straightened the hospital gown to hide her soccer T-shirt and pressed the call button.
Florence showed up five minutes later. “Yes,” she said crisply.
“I just wanted to apologize.” Viv bit her lip as her twin did when she was stressed. “For the fuss my twin made earlier.”
“Humph.” Florence folded her arms.
“You see, my sister is so passionate about perceived injustice…” Out of the nurse’s view, Merry crept out from behind the door—at least as much as a person with a cast to their thigh could creep “…she can say things she later regrets.” Viv tried not to watch as Merry used her crutches with exacting slowness to inch out the door.
“Your sister,” said Florence with volcanic heat, “has anger management issues and needs psychiatric treatment.” She started to turn away.
“Wait!”
Florence paused. Behind her, Merry froze. “Something’s wrong with the adjustment thingie on my bed.” What was wrong with it was a folded piece of cardboard jammed under the lever to stop it depressing. “It won’t recline and I’d like to nap now.”
Merry disappeared from view. So did Florence, down the side of the bed. The frame rattled as the staff nurse struggled with the mechanism. “I don’t understand…let me try wiggling it the other way.”
Viv imagined the action outside. Ross waited in the hallway with a wheelchair. He’d scoot Merry to the elevator, which she’d take to basement level. There she’d wait to be collected. All Viv needed to do was keep Florence occupied until she heard the distinctive ping of the elevator.
“Here’s the problem.” Florence stood with the chocolate box fragment in her hand. “Who on earth would have put that there?”
“I wonder if my daughter did it yesterday? She’s such a kidder.”
Still no elevator ping. “Do you have children, Florence?”
“Too scared they’d turn out like yours. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the nurses’ station and organize meds for Mrs. Pearson.”
“Could I ask you to pour some water into a glass for me before you go?”
The older woman’s eyes narrowed. “It’s well within reach, Mrs. Coltrane. You need to practice independence if you’re going home tomorrow.”
Still no ping.
Unable to think of another excuse, Viv watched her march toward the exit…and collide with Ross in the doorway. He put his hands on the nurse’s shoulders to steady her. “I’m so sorry… I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
Florence straightened her bib and looked at Ross’s face—the grazed cheek, the red-bruised eye and his slightly swollen nose—then stiffened. “You’re not the outraged husband, are you, come to cause more trouble?” She thrust out her arms to secure the doorway, obviously with the intention of protecting Merry, and Viv forgave the woman everything.
“I’m not married,” Ross said truthfully. “And I’m hunting for X-ray.”
Florence relaxed her guard. “You’re on orthopedic… X-ray’s one floor down. The elevator’s right out here.”
Ross reached out to clutch the door frame. “Give me a second,” he said. “I’m feeling dizzy.”
“In here.” With brisk efficiency, Florence steered him into Merry’s room, sat him on the chair by the door and shoved his head down. “What’s wrong with your leg?” He’d favored it, sitting down.
“That’s what the X-ray will tell me,” he replied smoothly. The elevator door pinged.
Ross lifted his head. “I think I’m okay now…. Thanks for your help.” He looked at the name badge. “Florence.” He made the word sound sensual and followed it with a smile that would have made Viv need to lie down, if she wasn’t prone already. Even Florence blinked.
“You’re welcome.” She cleared her throat. “Here, let me help you.” She tucked an arm in Ross’s. “Lean on me if you need to.”
“Thank you,” he said meekly. “I’ll do that.”
As soon as they left, Viv flung aside the sheet, leaped out of bed and stripped off the gown. At the mirror she yanked her ponytail off center, then pulled the curtain around the bed and sauntered down the corridor. Florence—the flirt—was chatting to Ross as he waited for the elevator. Catching sight of Viv, she scowled.
“I thought you’d left?”
“Just about to.” Viv nodded politely to Ross, suddenly reminded of his fantasy. We’d meet casually by the elevators. Another ping and the door opened. The half-dozen people inside squeezed together to let them in. So much for that fantasy.
Florence smiled at Ross. “You take care now.” Ignoring Viv, she sailed down the corridor. Viv jabbed the button for the basement.
“Halfway there,” Ross encouraged, as the door closed.
Unfortunately the second part of Operation Reconciliation didn’t go as smoothly. Charlie refused to let Viv in the door.
“I can’t wear these now, can I?” Viv fanned out her soccer T-shirt and pretended to shiver. “All I want is my suitcase, Charlie…some clothes aren’t too much to ask, are they?”
Her brother-in-law’s hostile gaze went past Viv to his brother, sitting in the SUV at the curb. Merry lay concealed in the backseat. “Tilly said Ross only found out the day before the funeral. Sounds like his hands were mostly tied so I’ll let him come in to collect it. Not you.”
Except Viv was supposed to keep Charlie occupied while Ross helped Merry inside. Past Charlie, Viv saw Tilly hovering at the end of the hall. She smiled encouragingly, received a tremulous one in return. “It’s going to be fine, hon. Hang in there.”
Charlie stepped into her line of sight. “Don’t make out as if I’m the bad guy,” he snarled. “You take responsibility for this.”
“I do. Total and full responsibility. Don’t punish Merry.”
“She went along with it. To hell with this. I’m not talking to either of you.” He went to close the door and Viv jammed her foot in it.
“I know you’re hurt but please, Charlie, Merry loves you so much, give her a chance to fix this.”
“Charlie.” In the heat of the exchange neither of them had noticed Ross’s approach. “Meredith’s in the car,” he said without preamble. “Go talk to her.” Forcefulness wasn’t part of the plan. Viv opened her mouth to soften the order and Ross gave her a look that made her close it. He knew his brother better than she did.
Charlie looked over to the SUV where Merry now sat in plain sight and his jaw tightened.
“We’re done here.”
Ross said in a tone too low for Tilly to hear, “After scaring the crap out of your children this afternoon, you have to reassure them that you don’t hate their mother—even if you do. You’re a parent first…outraged husband second. You know this, I shouldn’t have to remind you.”
“Charlie.” They turned to see Merry trying to swing herself out of the passenger seat of Ross’s 4WD but the seat was too high off the ground. “I don’t expect forgiveness, I just want to tell you why I did it. For our kids’ sake, will you listen?”
The weight of her cast started to drag Merry forward and she grabbed the door frame. Instinctively Charlie started forward, then stopped. Viv remembered his gallantry at the funeral when he thought his wife was being snubbed.
“She needs help,” he said to Viv, jerking his head in Merry’s direction and jamming his hands in his pockets.
“Not me.” Viv folded her arms.
Ross glanced between Charlie and Merry. “Not me,” he said.
“Someone,” Merry called plaintively.
Ross held out his keys. “Go somewhere you can talk in private. We’ll watch the kids.”
“Seriously needing help here, guys,” Merry called.
Charlie snatched the keys. “This isn’t agreeing to anything.”
“I get that.”
Charlie hurried to help his wife, stony-faced as he resettled her in the passenger seat. Merry’s apprehensive gaze met Viv’s.
“Good luck,” Viv mouthed. Tilly crept to the door, and seeing her, Charlie’s expression softened. “I’m going for a drive with Mum,” he said huskily. “You want to say goodnight to her?”
Viv felt a spark of hope.
Tilly scampered over to hug her mother. Charlie embraced his daughter. “I’ll be home soon.”
“Okay, Dad.” She skipped to the house much happier.
The first thing Viv noticed when they went inside was an open suitcase, half-packed with the children’s belongings. She and Ross exchanged glances but with Tilly there, they couldn’t say anything.
Harry was curled up on the couch, the dog beside him, engrossed in watching a DVD of The Wiggles. “Ub,” he said, pointing at the TV screen. At least one of the kids wasn’t going to remember this.
“What do we do now?” Tilly asked.
Viv fondled Salsa’s ears. “I vote McDonald’s.”
Her niece brightened. “Really?”
“Great idea,” said Ross. “Just let your aunt and I grab a quick shower first.”
The vision that evoked…. “Do you have any clean clothes?” she asked. Ross had covered up the bloody T-shirt with a windbreaker.
“I’ll borrow a shirt of Charlie’s.”
They managed to show the kids a good time. At seven-thirty, Tilly went to bed cheerfully, fully expecting that her parents would come home together. Viv hoped to God that she was right.
Ross was pensive when she returned to the living room after settling the kids but she resisted the urge to ask what he was thinking. Viv had no idea where they went from here and she suspected he didn’t, either.
She waited for him to say something…anything that would clue her in. He picked up the TV Guide. “There’s a rugby match on the sports channel.”
The disappointment was crushing. “I’ll put the kettle on.”
So was the relief.
* * *
Ross flicked from one channel to the other unable to settle, and completely frustrated with himself.
Whatever happened with their siblings’ relationship, he expected Viv to come home with him later, but did she?
And if so, in what capacity—as a friend, lover, girlfriend? He wanted to talk about a future but he didn’t know where to start. How the hell was he going to convince Viv she could still be independent in a committed relationship when he had no experience of making one work?
He needed to ask but the very idea made Ross squirm. What if she’d had second thoughts since their kiss this afternoon?
And why was he worrying about her having second thoughts when she hadn’t given any indication that she’d had first ones yet? One quick snog in a parking lot didn’t mean she returned his feelings. Feelings.
The Iceman broke into a sweat. For a wild moment, he considered waking his niece and asking Tilly to ask Viv how she felt about him.
She brought in the tea, put his mug on the table and took the chair when she could have joined him on the couch. Left the scent of her perfume…honeysuckle. “What do you think?” she said. “Is it a good sign they haven’t come home…or has your brother murdered my sister? Is he now burying her body under Linda’s topiary?”
“I don’t know.” Ross didn’t give a damn about his brother or his wife right now.
“No need to snap.” Viv picked up her mug and looked at the screen. “What’s on? Anything good?”
He realized he’d been watching Romeo and Juliet and flicked to the sports channel because Romeo and Juliet had had it too easy with their families. They should try the Coltrane-Jansen combo sometime.
“Okay with rugby?”
“Sure.” She sounded resigned.
He was making a complete hash of this.
“Oh, for God’s sake.” Disgusted, Ross threw down the remote. “I love you,” he said. “Practically, I think we can make it work, if we want to.” He glared at her. “Do you…want to, I mean?” Do you love me?
Viv blinked, opened her mouth. Ross’s cell rang.
He ignored it.
“You should answer that,” she said. “It’s probably Charlie.”
Impatiently he answered it.
“We’re working it out,” Charlie said, and Ross gave Viv the thumbs-up.
“That’s great, Charlie. Goodbye.”
“Wait…can you stay with the kids overnight. Merry and I—”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“You don’t sound very happy about it.”
“I’m bloody delighted, okay…but right now I’m trying to talk Viv into marrying me and—” Shit. He’d mentioned the M word.
“Marry Viv?” Charlie sounded stunned. “No, Merry, you can’t talk to him…. Ross, I don’t want you to—”
“Tough.” He cut the connection and stared at Viv who was looking like a possum caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.
“Marriage,” she said slowly. “Ross, you never said marriage. We’ve only known each other a week.”
“Eight years and a week,” he reminded her.
“You don’t believe in soul mates.”
He sighed. “I know.”
“I don’t, either,” she said.
“I love you, Viv. Marry me,” he said. “I’d get down on one knee if I could. You’re everything I never thought I’d find in one woman…adventurous, independent, loving, loyal. Hell, didn’t I let you drive?”
Viv stood and wandered to the window. Salsa left his basket and followed her, but she was gazing out distractedly and didn’t notice him. Looking for an escape route? Ross swallowed and waited.
“I’ve never seen marriage and kids in my future,” she said at last. “I think because I never thought I could do it perfectly…like Merry seemed to. But I’ve learned she’s not perfect and never was, except in my imagination.”
Hope propelled him to his feet.
“And I’ve discovered,” she continued, “that marriage—and kids—is a messy, complicated, think-on-your-feet exercise and since I’ve had a lot of experience in that area…” She stood in front of him. “I’m extremely worried that I’m overqualified.”
“That’s okay,” he soothed, drawing her into his arms. “I’m a novice so it’ll balance out.”
“What about practicalities?”
He smiled against her hair. “It’s such a turn-on when you talk all sensible.”
Viv persisted. “You’re based in New Zealand, I’m based in New York. While we can juggle schedules and I can do some design work remotely, it’s still one hell of a commute.”
She’d already thought about this. A lot. Excellent.
“Skype sex?” he suggested.
Viv pulled back, concern in her eyes. “I want you to be sure about us because it won’t be easy.” She laid her palm against his cheek. “Charlie’s going to take a while to forgive me.”
Always trying to protect. He turned his head and kissed her palm. “We’ll sic Attila on him,” he reassured her. “And Jo’s got your brother covered. You and I will retreat to New York and wait until the dust settles.” Ross had always had the option of easing himself back into the Unit. Now he had a reason to. “And if we come back married…”
She frowned. “Hey, I only said I loved you. I never said I’d marry you.”
Actually this was the first time she’d said she loved him, but Ross was learning that stealth, not resistance, worked best with his future wife. He loved a challenge. Loved being challenged. “I’ll try not to get ahead of myself.”
Appeased, Viv raised her face for his kiss. “I love you.”
“That’s all that matters.” Ross lowered his lips to hers.
Salsa growled.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Viv said.
Ross laughed and kissed her anyway.
He considered himself a simple man. All he needed was to be the best at what he did. And soon—way sooner than Viv imagined—that would include being her husband.
If you enjoyed Stand-In Wife read the first book in my Special Forces series…
Here Comes the Groom
(Special Forces #1)
If Jo Swann weren’t so furious, she’d probably laugh. Her best friend, Dan Jansen, has launched a campaign worthy of his Special Forces training to arrange their wedding, from music and minister to flowers and food. What part of no does he not understand?
Their marriage ‘agreement’ was a tipsy scrawl on the back of a coaster…three years ago. It’s not a question of love. Of course she loves Dan. She’s loved him all her life. If only she could get him to slow down a minute and listen—to be the friend she needs right now—she could convince him that marriage would ruin everything.
Reviewers said…
“Karina Bliss is an excellent writer whose plots are so complex and her characters so realistic that readers are given much more than cookie cutter rehashes of classic stories. Also, her solutions to the problems are unique…”
– Desert Isle Keeper. www.likesbooks.com.
“I’ve announced the next book club pick: Karina Bliss’ Here Comes the Groom, and it’s lovely fun reading. I would venture to say it causes one to be washed on the warm baking sands of love’s splendid shores of good reading bliss…”
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“If I had to summarize what I think the skill of a good romance author is, then it is this ability. To use what everyone loves about the romance genre, without letting those conventions take over. And you do this really well.”
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