Chapter Fifteen
It was wrong that it felt so right to walk into the hospital with Cody at her side. She really had no business keeping him from his work, but he’d insisted on coming, kind of, and the last thing she wanted to do was shoot him down.
Plus, she wanted him there. Needed him there. His support had become . . . necessary to her. It was as though as long as he was there, everything would be all right.
This postulation was proved correct when they got up to the ICU wing and were told that her father had just woken up.
It could have been Cody’s charmed presence, or Hanna’s. It seemed to Sidney that her sister lived a blessed existence—she waltzed into a disaster and the world magically flipped back to rights. But Sidney didn’t care who was responsible; she was simply delighted.
Granted, Dad still looked pale and weak, but it was glorious to see his eyes open, to see his smile, to feel his hand, warm and grasping hers. They only had a few minutes to chat because Nurse Nazi shooed them out. The doctor wanted him well-rested for the surgery, she told them, which would probably take place today. The word bypass was bandied about.
As they came out of ICU, Hanna crumpled. She’d been a real trooper in there, cheering Dad on and blathering about how he was doing great . . . but once they were beyond earshot, she choked on a sob and pulled Sidney into her arms. “Oh my God!” she wailed. “Oh my God. He looked so . . .”
“I know,” Sidney said, but it took an effort not to roll her eyes. He’d been far worse yesterday, but Hanna had missed that. “Trust me, this is good.” He’d been awake, alert and talking.
Once they got to the waiting room, Hanna deserted her for Logan; she draped herself over him and sobbed. He patted her back and murmured things like “There, there,” and “Now, now.” He shot Sidney a questioning glance over Hanna’s shoulder.
“He’s looking good,” she said in a chipper voice.
“Good?” Hanna howled.
“Much better than yesterday.”
“Really?” Hanna sniffed. She took the tissue Logan offered and mopped at her cheeks.
“Much better.” Sidney sat down next to Cody. He put his arm around her and rubbed her neck. It was so soothing she wanted to sink into it. “They’re thinking he’s ready for the surgery,” she told him.
“That’s great.”
It was. She leaned against him, setting her cheek on his chest, and he held her closer. It was nice having someone around who would hold you when you were afraid. Nice having someone to stroke your nape, or brush your hair from your face when it needed it, or just to be there.
“Logan,” Hanna said, “I need some air.” She shot a glance at Sidney. “Do you mind if we go for a walk? I just can’t . . . It’s too . . . I—”
“Hanna. Go,” Sidney said. “I totally understand.” She hopped up to give her sister another hug. “I get it. Go do what you need to do. We’ll be here. I’ll call you if anything happens. I promise.”
Hanna tightened her hold. “I love you, Sidney,” she said, and Sidney stilled. It wasn’t something the two sisters ever said, although they knew, somewhere in the well of their souls, it was true. The words, however, were hard to say, and raw.
But she had to say them. Had to reciprocate. Had to force them past the prickly barriers in her throat. “I love you too, Hanna.”
The flush of warmth blossoming in her chest surprised her.
She’d had no inkling that uttering three such simple words would feel so good.
Hanna pulled back and offered her a watery smile and then hugged her again, quick, wild, and warm. “I promise we won’t be long,” she whispered in Sidney’s ear.
“Take your time.” She waggled her phone. “I’ll text you if anything happens.”
Sidney dropped into her chair with a sigh as she watched her sister and Logan head for the elevators. He wrapped her arm around Hanna’s shoulder and drew her close. It was a lovely image, but somehow blurred.
“Is your dad really looking better?” Cody asked.
Sidney blinked several times. “Yes. He is. Why do you ask?”
To her surprise, he gently touched her cheek, and she realized he was wiping away her tears. “You’re crying.”
“I’m not.” She sniffed.
“You are.” He held up a damp thumb. “Why are you sad?”
“I’m not sad.”
He sent her a dubious look.
“I’m not. I was just . . .” She waved in the general direction Hanna and Logan had gone. “I’m happy for them.”
Cody sighed. “I’ll never understand women.”
“What?” She scowled at him. “How is that germane to the conversation?”
“Very germane. You’re happy for your sister, so you weep?”
“I wasn’t weeping.”
“What then?”
“Happy-leaking.” She held up two fingers, very close together. “And only a little bit.”
He gaped at her. “‘Happy-leaking’? Is that a thing?”
“It is very much a thing.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
She patted his knee. “Well, men happy-leak in a very different way.”
His stunned expression, as he caught her meaning, was priceless. And then he threw back his head and laughed. It was a mellifluous sound, enchanting and enticing, and she realized she’d never heard him laugh—really laugh—before. She liked it.
She endeavored to make him do it again.
And so, as incomprehensible as it may have seemed, they spent the morning in the hospital waiting room, chatting and jesting and making each other laugh. Sidney gathered all this hope, this happiness, this positive energy and willed it to her father, mentally surrounding him with love and affection and the great joys of life. Hoping her efforts and energy somehow bolstered his strength and lit a fire in his soul to fight this illness and overcome it. And if that was a prayer, so be it.
She and Cody were just starting to talk about what to do for lunch when he suddenly stilled. “Oh my God,” he said. “She’s coming.”
Sidney’s eyes went wide at the horror in his tone. “Who?”
“Tibby.” A flare of panic flickered in his eyes, but she was certain he was only joking. Probably. “Remember, you promised to save me?”
“Did I promise to save you?”
“I’m pretty sure you did.”
“I remember talking about grenades and letting Ford fall on them.”
“Ford’s not here. Please, Sidney. I need you.”
She snorted a laugh. “You never need anyone.”
His expression went solemn. “How very wrong you are.”
His words threw her for a loop, tugged at her heartstrings, weakened her . . . which was probably why she said, “All right. But remember, I’m taking a bullet for you. You owe me.”
“I do. I totally do. Oh . . . there she is.”
Sidney saw Tibby out of the corner of her eye in that pink-striped uniform and the jaunty cap that would never be allowed in any other setting.
“Okay. What do you want me to—?”
But she never finished the sentence, because just at that moment, Cody cupped her cheeks and pulled her closer and—good lord—kissed her.
It was a warm and slow kiss, a teasing, testing buss that quickly swelled into something more. She heard Tibby’s gasp and her mutter of outrage, but barely, because Cody tipped his head to the side and deepened the kiss until all her senses sank, down and down into the well of passion.
But the funny thing was, it wasn’t sexual passion. That was the strange and wonderful thing about this kiss. There was no urgency, no desperate need, no empty hunger screaming to be filled. It was . . . a melding. A tender exchange. A lovely, loving delight.
She was breathless by the time he lifted his head.
Breathless as he stared at her.
Breathless with anticipation as he stroked her cheek and leaned in for another taste.
“Ahem.” They jerked apart and Sidney’s gaze flew over to the desk where Nurse Nazi sat, glaring at them. Chagrined, she flicked a look at Cody, who was equally chastised, but somehow, as they stared at each other, and his lips quirked, hers followed. And then they chuckled.
It was probably inappropriate to chuckle, but they did.
And they both noticed . . . Tibby was gone.
***
Cody was surprised how much he enjoyed just being with Sidney. Normally, sitting around a waiting room—or any room—bored him to tears and he felt the irresistible urge to bound up and move on to some other activity, but with her, it was enough to sit by her side, chat about nothing in particular and pull her into a kiss whenever Tibby—who was apparently stalking them—hove into view.
He particularly liked it when Tibby hove into view. He never thought it possible to have a skirl of excitement rise in his belly at the sight of her, but there you have it.
After a while, it became a Pavlovian response. He’d see those pink stripes and—ding-a-ling—he’d go in for a kiss.
It became almost a game to them, one Sidney seemed to enjoy as well, although he would have preferred she not giggle while he kissed her.
But then, even her giggling was nice.
When Hanna and Logan returned, they brought lunch—take-out from Bubba’s—which was damn nice of them, because the food in the hospital cafeteria, other than the pie, was designed to enhance job security . . . in as much as it was as likely to require one to be admitted as not.
The four of them rearranged the chairs around the coffee table and chatted as they downed Bubba Burgers, onion rings, fries, and malts. It was way too much food considering he’d been sitting on his ass for two days, but Cody managed to finish first.
When he issued a rolling belch, Sidney smacked him.
“Gawd, Silver,” she quipped. “You’re such delicate flower.”
He belched again, and she rolled her eyes.
But a second later, she leaned over, as if to whisper in his ear . . . and let one roll. Right into his auditory canal.
Hanna heaved a sigh. “Honestly, you two are birds of a feather.”
Sidney grinned and flapped her arms and squawked, which made Cody laugh.
She was so funny. He loved that about her.
He was, suddenly, possessed by the urge to kiss her. So he did.
When he pulled back, her eyes were wide. They shared a moment. Of silence. Of connection. Of—
“What the hell was that?” Hanna ejaculated.
Sidney blinked and tore her gaze from his. Damn.
“It’s a game we’re playing,” she said, and he tried not to flinch.
“Yeah. A game.”
Logan wiped his mouth with a napkin—Bubba Burgers were drippy. “And exactly what kind of game is that?”
Sidney leaned forward and whispered, “We’re driving Tibby crazy.”
“Oh,” Hanna said. “That sounds like a fun game. But why did Cody kiss you?”
“He saw Tibby coming, of course.”
Hanna looked around the—empty—room. “He did?” She fixed a probing gaze on him.
No, he hadn’t seen Tibby. That kiss had had nothing to do with Tibby. In fact, about half the times he’d kissed Sidney that morning, Tibby had been nowhere in evidence. But he certainly wasn’t admitting that. “She’s been stalking us,” he said. That, at least, was true.
“She’s been stalking Cody,” Sidney corrected. “I’m just saving him from a fate worse than death.”
“Really?” Hanna lifted that speaking brow. She was a past master at speaking expressions. Her focus whipped from Sidney to Cody back to Sidney again. “Hmm.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sidney asked.
“By what? I didn’t say anything.”
“You said, hmm.”
“Hmm doesn’t mean anything.”
“It does when you say it in that tone.”
“What tone?”
“Hmm.” Sidney quite accurately mimicked Hanna’s dubious timbre.
“Well, I certainly didn’t mean anything by it. If the two of you want to torment poor Tibby, who am I to stand in your way?”
Exactly.
“But I do feel the need to mention . . .”
“What?”
“Logan and I saw Tibby leaving the hospital when we came in.”
“I . . . what?” Sidney blinked.
Logan nodded. “Yeah. She made it a point to turn her nose up at us and everything.”
Sidney whipped around and frowned at Cody. “I thought you said you saw her?”
How did he wriggle out of this one?
Maybe just telling the truth?
Naw.
“Did I say that?”
“You kissed me.”
“I was just practicing.”
To his relief she wasn’t angry. In fact, though she tried to hold back her smile, she couldn’t. She did, however, smack him on the shoulder.
***
The four of them spent the better part of the afternoon in the waiting room, chatting and playing cards, and occasionally Nurse Ratched would allow the two girls in to spend a moment with Henry. Even Hanna was coming to terms with the fact that her father, though in serious condition, was doing better.
The mood dipped sharply when, late that afternoon, the cardiologist came out to tell them Henry Stevens was being prepped for surgery. He would be having a double bypass and while it was a long and risky procedure, the doctors felt he had a good prognosis.
After that little bombshell dropped, silence engulfed them. Cody put his arm around Sidney and pulled her close. “It’ll be fine,” he said. “Your dad is a fighter.”
“I know.” But the intensity with which she grasped his hand telegraphed her worries.
They all decided to stay right here until Henry came out of surgery, even though the day was waning. Cody knew Sidney, and Hanna for that matter, would not rest until they knew their father was out of the woods.
They were both somber and restrained.
Until a whirlwind burst into the waiting room.
Cody’s heart plunged into his belly as he saw them coming. Oh, his mood wasn’t dashed by the sight of Rafe and Brandon. It was Ben who crushed his spirit.
He strode into the waiting room carrying take-out boxes and, when he opened his arms to her, Sidney ran to him and gave him a warm hug.
Cody looked away. His gaze tangled with Hanna’s and he tried to ignore the aching sympathy in her expression. Because it meant she read the agony in his. He desperately tried to rein it in.
He fixed his features into something resembling delight and greeted his friends effusively. They all crowded in and sat the take-out boxes on the tiny table.
“We brought you dinner,” Rafe gusted.
“All the way from Dallas?” Logan asked.
Brandon nodded. “We figured you could use some decent food.”
“We have decent food in Snake Gully,” Cody felt obliged to say. Even though it was barely true.
“But not this.” Ben held up a tub emblazoned with the logo for Hank’s Eye-Poppin’ Chili.
“Oh . . .” Hanna warbled. Her eyes teared up. She turned to Sidney with a watery smile. “It’s Dad’s chili.”
Sidney forced a smile, but it came out as a grimace. “Yay.” Less than enthusiastic.
Ben chuckled. “I know you hate your dad’s chili,” he said, “so I brought you this.” And he flourished a smallish take-out box beneath her nose. “PB&J with rippled chips.”
“Oh my God.” Sidney snatched the box and rolled her eyes in something that might have been orgasmic joy. “Thank you.” She grinned at Cody, and he was gratified she deigned to remember his existence. “I am such an epicurean.”
“Right?” Ben chuckled. “Most women go for the lobster and steak tartare. Not our Sidney.”
“Give me PB&J any day,” she said, opening the box and lifting the top slice of bread. “What kind of jelly?”
“Blackberry, of course.”
“You’re my hero,” she gushed.
Cody tried really hard not to grimace.
It was bad enough to know that Sidney and Ben were an item. It was another thing entirely to watch them together. He had the strong inclination to make his farewells and leave, but that would probably tip his hand, and he didn’t want anyone to think Ben had chased him away.
Besides, the Wilders had brought a mouthwatering selection of food from their restaurant—tri-tip, chicken, ribs, potatoes, freshly baked bread and more—and somehow, it was all still piping hot.
“We have a warmer in the truck,” Brandon mentioned, when Cody asked.
“We use it for deliveries,” Ben said with a nod.
“Well, thank you.” Sidney grinned at them all and they laughed, probably because she had jelly all over her face. He longed to lick it off, but his appetite soured when Ben took a napkin and dabbed at her cheeks.
“You’re a messy eater,” he said.
“You know I am.”
And they both laughed.
Cody’s stomach churned.
Maybe he shouldn’t have stayed. Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten their delicious offerings. It would be awkward if he barfed Tex Mex all over the restaurant owners’ boots.
Then again, maybe not . . .
Still, it was more than he could take, watching Sidney flirt with Ben and Ben flirt back. It felt like he was watching them through a long tunnel that just expanded and expanded, moving him further and further away. Moving her away.
He was losing her. He knew it.
He tried to remind himself of Cade’s advice. That if he truly loved her he would want her to be happy. And he did.
But he wanted to be happy too.
When Sidney grabbed Ben’s knee as she recounted one of their many dinners together in Dallas, the skin on his nape prickled. Sweat popped out on his brow.
He cleared his throat and said, “Excuse me,” as he stood. When six heads turned questioningly in his direction, he nodded to the restrooms across the hall from the waiting room.
He needed to escape. If only for a moment. To reclaim his aplomb.
To his dismay, Ben hopped up and followed him. “I need to go too,” he said.
Great.
Just what he wanted.
Company.
In the john.
He ignored Ben’s presence as they walked to the men’s room and did their business and washed their hands, but as they were about to leave to join the others, Ben stopped him.
“Hey, Cody.”
Irritation prickled through him. “What?” he tried not to snarl.
“Thanks for being here for Sidney.”
He wanted to howl. How dare Ben thank him for that? How dare Ben have the right to thank him for that?
“I couldn’t leave her all alone.”
“We all appreciate it.”
He shot Ben a scorching glance. “We all?”
“The family. You know. All of us.”
“Family?”
He lifted a shoulder. “She’s practically our sister.”
Fury howled through Cody’s brain. “She’s not your sister.”
For some reason, Ben looked aggrieved. “We think of her as our sister.”
“Yet you’re dating her?” God, he hated those words. Hated forcing them out. They burned all the way up.
Ben’s eyes went wide. “Dating her? Where did you get that idea?”
“Gee. I dunno. From the fact you told me you were dating her.” Did he not remember? Cody sure as shit did.
Ben shook his head and barked a laugh. “We went on one date-date.”
“Didn’t sound like that out there.” He thrust a thumb toward the general direction of the waiting room . . . where she and Ben had chatted about multiple meals, outings and fucking frolics. He could recount each and every one. They were etched on his soul. “And what the hell is a date-date?” And what was the difference between a date-date and a regular date?
“You know.”
No. He didn’t. And his scowl made that damn clear.
For some reason, Ben found all this amusing and he laughed. “Sidney and I went on a date-date. And we kissed.”
Cody’s hackles rose.
“But we both agreed that . . . well . . .”
Well, what? Well, the-fuck-what?
“You know. It . . . wasn’t there.”
“What wasn’t there?”
“Chemistry.” Ben winked. “She’s loads of fun and a great friend, so we’ve been hanging out. But there’s nothing romantic between us.”
“There’s not?”
Ben turned and exited the restroom, and Cody followed like a puppy dog in hopes if a treat. “Naw,” Ben threw over his shoulder. “Besides, she’s in love with someone else.”
A cold hand clutched his chest. “Who?” He barely forced the word out.
Who was Sidney in love with?
Holy God, he wanted to climb to the top of the Empire State Building and roar his agony and swat at planes.
Ben, unaccountably, shot him a grin. “I’m sure I couldn’t say,” he said. “Some guy she met in high school.” His grin widened and he shrugged. “Maybe someone you know.”
As they came into the waiting room, Sidney turned and smiled at them both, but her eyes were locked on him. Her expression was warm and open and welcoming.
And it hit him.
Hit him hard.
Hit him so hard he almost tripped over his own feet.
He did have a chance with her.
A real chance.
And by God, he would not fuck it up.