CHAPTER EIGHT

 

 

The day dawned overcast and misty in cool contrast to the unseasonable warmth of the past few days. It was starting to feel like winter now, cool and wet, as the winter season descended. Before Trace reached the hospital, he hit a drugstore that opened up early and picked up a few things for the dog, namely food, bottled water, and a cushy, plush doggy bed that had been on sale. He even picked up a squeak toy. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to be at the hospital and didn’t want to leave the dog without food or water.

Pulling in the parking structure across from the emergency room of Huntington Memorial Hospital in Pasadena, he made sure the truck was near the guy taking the money for the parking fees. In the back seat of his crew cab, he set the dog up with kibble and water in his new, red, plastic, doggy bowl and put the bed and toy on the floor. He also spread out parts of the Wall Street Journal he had rolled up in the back seat, knowing it wasn’t much of a barrier against doggy accidents but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

Cracking the windows and locking the truck, he made sure to tell the guy at the ticket booth about the dog in the truck and gave the guy his business card in case Stanley started barking or howling. The guy seemed amiable enough and Trace hightailed it to the emergency room.

By the time he got there, Kiki had already been examined. She was bruised but had suffered no broken bones. When Trace arrived in the examining room, she was waiting for the nurse to bring her prescription painkillers and release form. He sat next to the bed and held her hand, telling her about Stanley out in the truck with his new bed and toy, and he could see that the care he had taken with the dog pleased her immensely. He refrained from talking about the house, or anything else serious, as he tried to keep the conversation light.

In fact, Kiki seemed quiet and exhausted, and he didn’t blame her in the least, so at some point he stopped talking and let her doze off, still holding her hand. He tried to move, once, but she awoke instantly and held on to him with a death grip, so he reassured her that he wasn’t going anywhere and she drifted back off to sleep again. When the nurse returned, he caught the woman’s attention.

“Why is she passed out like this?” he asked, concerned. “Are you sure she’s okay?”

The nurse, an African-American woman with beautiful eyes, set the prescription bottles she was holding on the counter and began filling out the release forms.

“She’s fine,” she said. “The doctor gave her a shot of valium because she was pretty worked up when she got here. She needs to calm down and rest, so take her home after this and let her sleep.”

Trace’s gaze moved to Kiki, passed out on the gurney. He wasn’t going to take her home, not by a long shot. At least not today. His focus moved back to the pill bottles on the counter.

“What are those for?” he asked.

The nurse picked up one of them. “Anaprox for any stiffness or aches she might have,” she said, then looked at the other one. “This is Xanax in case she starts having anxiety issues. It’ll calm her down quickly. And the last bottle is Ambien in case she has trouble sleeping.”

He lifted his eyebrows at all of the drugs. When the nurse was finished with the paperwork, she turned to him as she was reading something in the paperwork package.

“Are you Mr. Rocklin?” she asked.

He nodded. “I am.”

The nurse handed him a pen. “You can sign her out, then. I’ll release her to you.”

“What’s my name doing in the paperwork?”

“She must have given it to the admitting nurse as an authorized person.”

Satisfied with the answer, Trace signed Kiki out of the emergency room. He took her prescription pills and put them in his pocket. Finally, turning to Kiki, she was still dead asleep on the gurney. He stood there a moment, just looking at her, seeing the woman in a different light. Things were deeper with them now, away from the cursory levels of acquaintance, and getting down to the nitty-gritty of who, and what, a person was. He was coming to learn her character, her personality, and loving it. He hoped she thought the same of him. As he stood there gazing at her, the nurse spoke beside him.

“I’ll bring you a wheelchair,” she told him.

He waited until the woman brought the wheelchair into the exam room before trying to wake her. Kiki was extremely groggy as he helped her off the table and into the chair. He told the nurse he’d meet her at the entry with his truck and made his way back to the parking structure. The misty morning had turned into full-blown rain as he ran across the street and unlocked his truck.

Stanley had made himself at home on the back seat, chewing happily on his new toy. He’d also farted uncontrollably and when Trace opened the car door, he was nearly knocked off his feet. He started to scold the dog but his laughter overwhelmed him. He rolled down all of the windows but when he pulled up to pay the parking fee, the guy at the booth made a face and he was sure it was because he thought Trace was stinking up the truck. Trace roared with laughter as he headed to the emergency room entrance. Damn dog!

The smell was gone by the time he pulled up, or so he thought. Kiki and the nurse were waiting and he jumped out, running around the truck and picking Kiki up from the chair. He deposited her carefully into the front seat, helping her on with her seatbelt. Climbing back into the truck, he carefully pulled out.

He thought she was asleep, her head resting against the back of the seat and her eyes closed. But she frowned, wrinkled her nose, and groaned.

“Stanley,” she scolded. “Quit farting.”

Trace couldn’t help the giggles. “That dog smells like he’s rotting from the inside out.”

Kiki grinned, opening her eyes and looking at him. “Sorry,” she said. “I should have warned you. I have to give him gas pills daily or this is what happens.”

He grinned in return, reaching out to take her hand. He brought it to his lips for a sweet kiss. “Are you awake enough that we can have a conversation?”

She nodded but her eyes were heavy lidded. “They gave me something to knock me out, I think.”

“They sure did.”

“Are we going back to the house?”

He shook his head. “It’s still a crime scene and I don’t want you over there right now,” he said. “I’m taking you to the Hilton so you can get some sleep. I’m going to back over to the house and repair the broken window.”

She lay there, her head against the seat, looking at him. “Why?”

He glanced at her. “Why what?”

“Why are you doing all of this?”

“Because I’m your boyfriend.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t realize I’d given you an answer yet.”

“You did. You just don’t remember.”

She just stared at him. Then, she grinned. “You’re a pretty take-charge kind of guy, aren’t you?”

He shrugged, perhaps with some regret. “Always. Got a problem with that?”

“No,” she said softly. “I’m really touched that you would take the trouble to take care of the dog, of me, and of the house. That’s really sweet.”

He just lifted her hand and kissed it as they came to a stoplight. Then, he leaned over and pulled her against him, planting a warm and sensual kiss against her mouth. Kiki forgot about her aches, pains, and exhaustion in a split second, her hands finding their way into his soft, cropped hair. The kiss quickly turned heated and sexy, tongues licking and tasting, as the light turned green and someone behind him honked. Trace let her go and drove through the intersection.

“Wow,” he exhaled softly, wiping at his mouth. “I could do that again, sometime.”

Kiki giggled softly, reaching out to take his hand this time. He squeezed her fingers tightly.

“Me, too,” she whispered.

He glanced at her, grinning, before refocusing on the road. “Hey, I’ve been thinking a few things,” he ventured. “Shouldn’t you call your mom and dad to let them know what happened?”

Her smile vanished. “Not today,” she said. “They’ll both freak out and I can’t deal with that right now. I’ll call them tonight when things have calmed down. I love my parents to death, but they’re both worrywarts. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“End of what?”

“Moving into that neighborhood,” she said. “My dad wasn’t so sure about it but my mom was positively averse. If they catch wind of what happened, they’re going to put all kinds of pressure on me to sell and get out, and I just don’t want to do it.”

Trace was silent for a moment, watching the big Pasadena Hilton coming up on the left, a block-shaped structure that was taller than almost any building in the city. “They worry about you because you’re alone,” he said quietly. “You’re not alone anymore.”

She looked at him. “What do you mean?”

He didn’t look at her as he slowed down to make the left-hand turn to pull into the Hilton’s front entrance. “I mean that you have me now,” he said. “I’m not going to let you live there alone.”

Her head came up off the seat. “We’ve known each other three days and already you’re moving in with me?”

He nodded. “As a tenant,” he said as he pulled the truck to a stop and looked at her. “Look, I’m not that much of an idiot, Katharine. I wouldn’t move in with a woman I just met, no matter how wonderful and luscious and sweet she is. You’ve got a lot of rooms in that big house. I’ll sleep in one of those and that way, you won’t be alone. You’ll have me around. It’ll be like a boarding house, only it’ll be your boyfriend who’s your boarder.”

She was serious, torn. “I told you I wouldn’t date you if you were working on my house.”

“You said you wouldn’t date me if you awarded Rocklin the job. You haven’t awarded Rocklin anything.”

She gave him an expression suggesting it was all semantics. “I don’t know….”

“Look - if you don’t want to go out with me, just say so.”

“Of course I do.”

“Then there’s nothing more to talk about,” he replied with finality. Then, he leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. “Just ask yourself how right this feels. If, at any time, things start getting weird, then we’ll address the issues like adults. But meanwhile, just enjoy what’s happening, okay? I know I will.”

She accepted his kiss, which grew increasingly heated, until she realized the bellboys were coming out to greet the truck. She pulled back from him, her lips red from his attention, her eyes riveted to the young men in Hilton uniforms.

“I don’t have any luggage,” she said. “In fact, I don’t have anything but the pajamas I’m wearing. I don’t even have shoes.”

He caught a glimpse of the bellboys as well. “So what? We’ll fix that.”

“But what about Stanley? We can’t just leave him here.”

“I’ll sneak him in after we check in.”

Before she could reply, he climbed out of the truck, went around to the other side, and opened her door. Kiki gingerly tried to climb out, putting her feet on the wet pavement, but he scooped her up in his arms before she could get out and carried her on into the lobby.

The front desk clerk looked at them both a little strangely when they checked in but said nothing. She handed over the room keys but Trace diverted into the gift shop as they headed to the elevators. Fifteen minutes later, Kiki emerged with an adorable pair of casual pants and a cute top, an equally adorable pair of animal print shoes, a black jogging suit that was blingy and trendy, earrings, make-up, and all of the toiletries she could handle. Trace even bought her a robe. It was an expensive purchase but he didn’t bat an eyelash. He just got her what she wanted and carried the booty up to her room on the ninth floor.

It would have been very easy to stay with her in the room but he thought better of it. He didn’t want to wreck their building relationship with too-soon sex or related foreplay. In fact, he really wanted to take his time with her and get to know her before taking that huge step. But he had to admit, it would be difficult to pace himself. He was already so attracted to her that he could barely control it. Once he got her into bed, he knew he’d be lost forever.

Moreover, Kiki was truly exhausted and still in the throes of the sedative. Trace put her in bed himself, covered her up, and pulled the curtains closed so it was completely dark in the room. As she dozed, he went back down to the truck, moved it around the corner, and then brought Stanley and his goodies in through a side entrance. He managed to get the dog up to the room without anyone seeing him, putting him in bed next to Kiki. She was genuinely touched and thrilled at Trace’s efforts as she snuggled with her dog.

However, she seemed to get anxious again at the thought of him leaving her alone, so he sat on the bed next to her, stroking her beautiful hair, until she finally fell into an exhausted sleep. Only then did he tiptoe out of the room, leaving his business card on the nightstand with his cell phone number circled and a note promising he’d be back by noon.

He was a man on a mission.