It was safe to say that Jade felt like crap.

Her head pounded like the devil, and her skin felt stabbed raw by all the IVs and needles prodding her.

But her heart . . . oh, her heart felt like soaring at the sight of her mother storming into her hospital room. “Ma, what in the world are you all doing here?”

Lucia spared a single look toward Nathan before scurrying to the other side of the bed. She took Jade’s face in her hands, and her dark eyes welled with tears. “My baby,” she whispered, “mi pobracita, look what they did to you.”

Her mother tugged a little too sharply and Jade bit her tongue to keep from cursing. “I’m okay, Ma, I promise. You can let go now.”

“She’s never letting go,” said a new voice, one that Jade recognized instantly as her younger sister’s. “You’re obviously coming back to Miami after this, otherwise Mom will never be the same again.”

Her gaze flicked to Nathan, who’d risen from his spot beside her to stand. He looked . . . he looked good. Masculine and healthy, and way too sexy for his own good—and he hadn’t rushed off when she’d accidentally mentioned the kids thing.

Which was worrying in its own front, because when had she even begun thinking about kids?

About the time that you met Nathan Danvers.

It should have frightened her, it should have sent her running for the hills the way she’d done with John Thomas, but that wasn’t the case now . . . . She wasn’t necessarily ready to pop out any young ones today, but in a few years, maybe, she could see herself doing so.

With Nathan, only. It seemed crazy to think that in such a short time he could hold her heart so completely, but it was true. He was her best friend and her lover. He saw past Predictable Jade and never stopped until he was convincing her wild side to take a stroll. She loved him for it. She loved that he didn’t make her feel odd or different. She just wished . . . Jade swallowed. She wished that with him being here, that they might have a chance of starting anew, together this time. It hadn’t taken a blow to her head for her to realize that she wasn’t willing to let him go.

“Kevin,” Lucia exclaimed, still holding Jade’s face in her strong grip, “look what they did to her!”

From the doorway, her father approached. Like always, he came to stand right next to his wife, his hand on her shoulder. With his free hand, he reached out to hold onto the metal railing of her bed. His knuckles turned white with tension—it was the closest he’d give to showing emotion, and Jade soaked it up.

“I’m good, Dad,” she told him, “Tell Ma to let me go.”

“Lucia, querida,” Miami’s police chief murmured, “let her go. Be thankful that puta only used a coffee mug on her, and nothing stronger.”

Whoa. Back up.

Jade physically lifted a hand. “Did you just say that she hit me with a coffee mug?” Pulling out of her mother’s grip took some maneuvering, but she finally did so to stare at the man to her left. Her eyes narrowed, even though she could barely see him, thanks to her sorry eyesight. “You said that she hit me with a porcelain doll.”

Although she couldn’t quite make out his features, she could have sworn he smiled—that playful, mischievous smile of his that encouraged her to do things she shouldn’t. And then he spoke, and it was like that first night they’d met, when he goaded her into a response. “Now, Jade,” he told her now, “I was just trying to make you feel better. Coffee mug . . . Victorian doll. At least the doll story has some character.”

She bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Does this doll exist in real life?”

“I’m sure I can find one for you should you want it.”

“You shouldn’t be finding her anything,” a new voice said, and this one . . . Jade’s eyes slid shut with dread.

Who had thought to bring John Thomas?

“For the record,” Sammie put in, “I vetoed the decision to bring him. I was out-ruled.”

“By who?” Jade asked.

“Me,” said John Thomas. His shoes clipped across the floor, signaling his approach. Jade wondered how ridiculous she would look if she tried to flee, her butt flashing everyone as the hospital gown parted. “I demanded to come along, because I have a few words to say to you, Jade.”

“John Thomas,” Sammie whispered, “I already told you, you’re going to embarrass yourself.”

But John Thomas would not be dissuaded. He swaggered on up to the hospital bed, and she wouldn’t put it past him to break out his cell phone and turn on some Marc Antony. When she saw him reach for the back pocket of his chinos, Jade figured she’d called it. Marc Antony was about to begin crooning.

Then she saw what he held in his hand, and surprise hit her like . . . well, like a coffee mug.

It was a watch she’d given him for Christmas ages ago.

He placed it on the little dinner tray off to her right. “After our last talk, Jade, I realized some things, mainly at the urging of your sisters.” He cast a quick look at Sammie, and Jade got the feeling it was one of terror. Sammie could be scary like that. “You see,” he continued, “we dated for four long years, and I was convinced that you were the one. You completed me. You made me laugh. And then you broke it off.”

All attention turned to Jade, and she curled into the hospital bed in an attempt to make herself smaller. She hated awkward moments—hated them—and yet there was nowhere to hide. “I’m sorry?” she squeaked.

He gave a short nod. “I was heartbroken, of course. I went out and got drunk with my buddies. I’m sorry to tell you, but I may have had sex with at least four women that week.”

“What a pig,” Sammie muttered.

John Thomas paid her no mind. “But when I finally came back home, sober, I took a look around my house and realized . . . there was not a single trace of you. Not one. Except for this watch, which you bought for me. Four years and it was like you didn’t exist.”

She heard Nathan grumble something under his breath.

“You were a ghost, my Jade. Practically a figment of my imagina—”

“I can’t do this.”

The last bit was Nathan, and her gaze jumped to his blurry form. Was he going to leave? Before they had a chance to talk?

“Don’t go!” she cried, throwing out a hand.

Strong, masculine fingers gripped hers. Fingers which had brought her so much pleasure, so much joy. “I’m not going anywhere, honey.” He turned, just slightly, and said, “Listen, man, I’m sorry to interrupt, but let’s be honest—you and Jade weren’t meant for each other. And that’s nothing against you. The two of y’all just weren’t a match.” His fingers tightened on hers. “We’re a match, Jade. We’ve been a match since I met you on my parent’s front stoop, and you refused to tell me why you got a ticket on your first day in—”

“I was driving the wrong way down a one-way.”

“What?”

Tears stung her eyes as she peered up at him, and she so wished someone would bring her a pair of glasses, because this seemed the sort of thing she would want to remember for the rest of her life. “I was singing Beyoncé’s latest song at the top of my lungs, and you New Orleanians have all these crazy one-ways, and I didn’t realize until the lights were flashing that . . . I was going the wrong direction.”

“Typical Jade,” she heard Sammie say, to which Lucia shushed her.

“You got a ticket for that?” Nathan said, sounding absolutely incredulous.

“Yes.”

“Jade, that’s nothing.”

“I was embarrassed! You were attractive and I didn’t know you, and I felt stupid for even saying something at all.”

“So, you find me attractive?”

She rolled her eyes at his flirtatious tone. “You know that I do.”

“That’s good,” he drawled, “because I plan to be the last man you ever kiss.”

There was a collective gasp in the hospital room, none of which belonged to Jade. She was too busy listening to the man of her dreams.

“I’m sorry for not trusting you,” he continued, his voice dropping to a low rasp. “I’m sorry for making you feel as though I don’t respect your independence, your loyalty, your vivaciousness.”

“That’s such a good word,” Sammie quipped, “vivacious. I love it.”

Nathan’s speech bowled right over the interruption. “Jade, I love you. I love you, even when you push me to really look at myself, and who I am. I love your thirst for crime TV, even though I’m sure you’ll get over it after being with me for the rest of your life. I love how you see the best in everyone, and how you’ve pushed me out of my shadows and into the light.”

This time, the tears wouldn’t stop, and her vision turned even hazier as they spilled forth. “Nathan—”

“I’m not done, honey. I’ve saved the best for last.”

There was more? Jade gave a watery laugh through the tears. “Okay. Okay.”

He lifted her hands to his mouth, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “I love you so much that I promise to give you the tips of my pizza for the rest of my life, so long as you promise me one thing.”

She swallowed. “What’s that?”

“Take a chance on me, Jade Lucia Harper. Take a chance on loving me.”

And that was when the dam broke. Maybe it was the medication—Jade had never been a crier—but the tears gushed forth, and the hiccups began, and through it all she could only say one thing: “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

And so that was the day that Jade Lucia Harper, the middle daughter of the Harper girls, truly knew what it felt like to win.

After all, she’d won the heart of her soul mate.