His arms tightened, and I knew he was thinking about what Alec had done.
I touched his face. "I'm serious, Patrick. Look at me."
He lifted his face, and I wanted to press my mouth to his so bad. "You did everything right that night. Now stop worrying about it."
Shaking his head, he gave me a small smile. "Right after you stop reading my mind, woman. It's too sexy."
I opened my mouth to tell him he found the strangest things sexy, but the nurse who'd made me cry returned. An irritated line deepened between her eyes before she focused on Pick's face. And just like that, her cheeks flushed with pleasure.
"Oh, my lands. I didn't think I'd ever get to see your gorgeous tush again, Mr. Pick."
Pick grinned at her. "Hey, Charlotte. Have you been taking good care of my two girls, here?"
She glanced at me, looking slightly guilty before turning back to him. "I had no idea they were yours, but of course we have. Now come here and give me some sugar."
When she leaned past me, Pick dutifully kissed her on the cheek. Pulling back with a happy glow, Charlotte ducked her head from the room and called into the nurses' station. Within moments, the entire room was crowded with women crawling all over him, demanding hugs and kisses. He gently slid me off his lap and placed me back into the chair so he could oblige them, telling Whitney he liked her new hairstyle, and Megs that she looked as if she'd lost too much weight. In return, they pawed at him, cooed, and asked how Julian was doing.
Julian, right. That must be how they knew him. He had to have been here when his wife gave birth.
Another round of envy bit me in the ass as I watched him become the center of all my nurses' attention. He pulled out his phone to show off pictures of his son, and I shook my head in wonder. The man certainly knew how to work a roomful of women.
When he caught my eye, he winked and pointed as he asked the ladies, "My Tink's not giving you any trouble, is she? I know how sassy she can be."
The nurses rushed to assure him I was a perfect patient, aside from the fact I needed more rest.
After that, he took it upon himself to personally escort me to my room for a nap. I touched Skylar's fingers in farewell, hoping I'd soon be able to kiss her forehead, or cheek, or tiny little toes, or actually hold her in my arms. Then Pick took my hand and walked me back to my room. Once he tucked me back into bed where everyone seemed to want me, he pulled up his gift bag. The stuffed pink pig he brought for Skylar was perfect. I thanked him and held it to my chest long after he had to leave, saying he'd already stayed way past his lunch break.
The nurses were much nicer to me after that. One eyed the pig I was clutching and smiled knowingly. "From Pick?" she guessed.
I nodded, cuddling the stuffed animal to my chin.
"So, how long have you known our favorite daddy?"
"Oh," I smiled up at her. "Not long. My cousin Mason works with him at the Forbidden Nightclub."
The nurse nodded. "Well, he's a one of a kind, that's for sure. I think every single nurse fell in love with him when he was here for that Tristy gal. He was amazing with her baby. Patient, good-natured. A real natural."
I smiled softly, faltering when I realized she'd said 'her' baby, not 'his' baby. Strange. "I bet he was. I haven't met Julian yet. Just seen a picture Pick showed me."
The nurse clucked her tongue. "He was so proud of that kid. Damn shame it wasn't his."
I blinked. "Wait, what? What do you mean not his?" Oh my God. There was no other meaning for such a phrase. But that would have to mean . . . "Holy shit. Does Pick know?"
With a snort and roll of her eyes, the nurse checked the level of water in my pitcher. "Honey, that baby came out blacker than I am. Ain't no way that baby can be his. And everybody knew it."
I drew in a sharp breath. "Oh . . . wow. I . . . I just assumed the mom was . . . I can't believe his wife cheated on him."
"Wife?" the nurse squawked, pausing as she plunked the pitcher down. "No, don't you dare tell me he went on to marry that girl." She shook her head sadly. "Worst patient I ever had. I tell you what," she leaned in closer and lowered her voice. "You didn't hear this from me, but no one liked her. Mm-hmm. She was a bitch with a capital B. And I don't even curse." To prove herself right, she lifted her gaze to the ceiling, and murmured, "Forgive me, Father," as she pulled a crucifix from her under her blouse and kissed it.
My mouth fell open. My biggest worry had been that his wife would be sweet, gorgeous, and awesome. But learning she wasn't as grand as I'd feared was almost worse. I didn't want to learn he was strapped to a bitch who'd fucking cheated on him.
My poor, poor Patrick. I wanted to scratch her eyes out.
"Did he know the baby wasn't his before it was born?" I asked, my voice just as low as the nurse's.
She straightened, slapping playfully at my hand. "Well, of course. He and that girl never had that kind of relationship, if you know what I mean. They were more like brother and sister. I think he said they'd been in the same foster home once." She rolled her eyes. "He's been looking out for her for years. And if they got married, it's only because of her baby."
My chest suddenly felt tight and I wanted to cry. A guy like Pick-who'd beaten up Alec because he'd tried to kill my baby, who'd taken on the care of an infant he knew wasn't his, who'd held me in his arms to comfort me-deserved a true love match, a wife who adored him.
My crush on him grew even stronger. If only I'd known him the night I'd met Alec "the Bastard" Worthington. But even if I had, I probably still would've gone after Alec, because I'd been stupid and prejudiced. All I would've seen in Pick were his bad-boy tattoos and non-branded clothes. I would've labeled him a sleazy loser. But Alec was the true loser, and Pick was the sweetest, most honorable man I'd ever met.
Chapter 15
EVA
As soon as she could breathe, eat, and stay warm on her own, Skylar was discharged from the hospital. She was twenty days old when I was finally able to take her home.
I'd only had to stay for a week myself. After my kidneys decided to function on their own again, they'd kicked me out two days later. It was the hardest thing in the world to leave the hospital without my baby, my little girl who'd been with me for the past seven and half months. So, usually I just stuck around there all day, annoying the nurses with every question under the sun. I think they were patient with me only because they knew I was Pick's friend.
For Skylar's situation, her doctor didn't foresee any long-term problems. He warned me she'd probably have some delays in developments, maybe a little trouble in school. But physically, she was fine.
That first night with her home was rough, and not because Skylar was fussy. In fact, she was a dream come true compared to some of the new-baby horror stories I'd read. I actually had to wake her a few times for her scheduled feedings. What made it rough was that I couldn't stop worrying. I popped out of bed to check on her every time she moved or breathed a little too loudly.
Before the night was over, I shifted her crib until it was squished against my bed, so she was no longer all the way across the room from me. I could only fall asleep when I slid my hand through the crib's slats and rested my fingers on her. If I hadn't feared I might roll over and accidentally suffocate her, I would've kept her in bed with me.
Morning came before I knew it, and I woke to what I swore was the sound of Pick's laughter. At first, I thought it was part of the lovely dream I was having. He was holding Skylar, telling her what a princess she was, right before she passed gas.
He threw his head back and laughed. I thought he'd add something like, "Princess of Gas," but instead he said, "Christ, Lowe. I can't believe you actually bought this piece of shit."
My lashes fluttered open, and my bedroom at Reese's duplex came into focus. Daylight bounced off the pale walls, telling me it was no longer five in the morning, which was the last time I'd been awake with Skylar. The curtains shifted, letting in a warm spring breeze because I'd left the window open all night. The light gust dusted my cheeks, making me smile.
These past few hours were the most sleep I'd had all night. My body ached and I needed to take my pain meds, plus my milk-logged breasts were on fire and hard as stones. I was in the worst physical condition of my life, and yet I couldn't remember feeling so content.
Then I heard Pick's voice again. "I'm frankly surprised the thing is still running. Have you looked at this engine?"
I bolted upright in bed. Oh my God! Pick was here, right outside my window.
Oh my God times two. That hurt. Oh, hell . . . Ouch. That really hurt.
Wrapping my arm around my middle as white-hot pain slashed across my healing C-section incision, I gasped and tried to breathe through the waves of agony. But, wow. Sitting up too fast after you'd had your gut cut open did not feel good. It didn't help that my abdomen was still bruised from where Alec had punched me, but this . . . this had come straight from that stapled-together line.