Spiked Lemonade: A Bad Boy Sailor and a Good Girl Romantic Comedy Standalone (10 page)

WE’VE BEEN PACING
in the waiting room of this hospital for two hours with little to no information, and I can tell Cali’s about to blow. They won’t tell her what’s going on. All we know is what Jags has told us. Tyler finally fell asleep on Jags’s lap and it’s just about the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. He must be like this great big teddy bear to her.
A hard muscly teddy bear
.

Jags sees me smiling as I watch Tyler sleeping on his lap, which I can see is generating another pick-up line. “My other leg is free if you need a place to sit,” he whispers over to me as if he were gently offering me something nice.
Saw that one coming a mile away.

I take a look around the room, spotting at least twenty open seats. “I think I can find somewhere a little less bony to sit, but thank you,” I reply.

“Oh there’s no bone here, doll-face. This is all one-hundred-percent pure muscle,” he says, grinning, then continues to whisper, conspiratorially, “but if you sit here, that might change.” Then he winks at me and continues to grin, impishly. Every time he says something like this, it makes my body ache, and I’m not sure if it’s from being uncomfortable in a good way or a bad way. I still don’t know why I feel this way around him. He is not even remotely close to being my type. The weird part is, he talks to me as if I am
his
type, which I can’t seem to figure out either. I take the chair across from him and fold my legs one over the other, cupping my hands over my knees. While I try to avoid the thoughts running through my head, Jags is making it real hard to do as he’s looking at me with just a hint of a grin, like he’s waiting for me to break or something.

I look at up him and realize I shouldn’t have, but thankfully, Cali breaks through the awkward moment when she starts shouting at someone at the front desk. I hadn’t even realized she moved from her pacing circle to across the room.

“I need an update on my husband,” she says sternly. “How would y’all like it if your husband was in an operating room and no one would give you an update? I’m guessing you’d probably get pretty pissed off, am I right?” Cali’s face is beet red, and she’s clenching her fists so tightly, her fingernails must be breaking through the skin of her palms.

I slowly stand from my chair and move up behind her, placing my hands on her shoulders. As I do so, I expect her to respond in wrath and whip out of my grip. My ice-cube friend doesn’t like to be coddled. This isn’t something new, but no matter what, I will always make sure she knows I’m here in case she does need a shoulder to cry on.

To my surprise, she doesn’t pull away this time. She leans back into me a bit instead. “Why won’t they tell me what’s going on?” she asks.

“Cali-girl, what are you so scared about?” I ask. “You know people have surgery every day, and Jags already told you it’s just his leg and ribs. Those are easy things to fix for the most part, right?”

“That’s not what I’m worried about, Sasha,” she says, turning around and wrapping her arms around my neck—a sentiment Cali has not shown me in a very long time. I take the opportunity to squeeze her back and her body trembles within my grip. Cali, who doesn’t ever cry—is crying. This makes me want to cry, but all I can see out of the corner of my eye is Jags. His face has been wiped clean of all emotion, like he doesn’t know what’s going on. And that’s the way we all feel, I think.

“What are you worried about, then?” I ask softly.

“They’re going to be doing blood work and…”

“And what, Cali?” I don’t know where she’s going with this. Blood work is a completely normal part of most procedures.

“He’s been coughing a lot lately, and he hasn’t been feeling like himself, you know?” she says, her words garbled and choked.

“I don’t understand. Maybe he has a cold?”

“No,” she breathes. “I’m afraid the cancer came back. I’ve been begging him to get blood work done or to just see his doctor, but he’s refused.” Her sobs grow heavier, and her grip tightens.

“Do you think that had anything to do with today?”

“I don’t know. He used to get these weak spells back before the cancer was gone. Jags said he fell out of the second floor, and I can’t help but think…you know?”

My heart hurts for her, just hearing how much she truly loves him. How could she not? I know what they’ve been through, each one separately. They need each other more than I’ve ever seen another couple need each other. Then there’s Tyler, who is so innocent and has been thrown into this messy life of theirs, yet she wouldn’t know because of how much they protect her.

Jags is giving me a questioning look, and I shrug my shoulders to tell him everything I know, which is still nothing but speculation at this point. “I don’t think you should worry about the worst case scenario right now. Tango could have had a cold or allergies. It is allergy season; you know?”

“It’s been months,” she tells me.

“Mrs. Wright,” a doctor appears from behind us. “May I have a word with you, please?” I separate myself from Cali, allowing her to have a private conversation with the doctor. Returning to my seat, I settle back down into the chair and meet Jags’s concerned gaze.

“What’s going on?”

“Cali thinks the…” I’m scared Tyler can hear me even though she’s asleep so I mouth the word, “Cancer” to him.

Jags pinches his chin with his fingers and rolls his eyes up as the back of his head falls against the wall. “Nah, that can’t be happening again,” he says with a weakness behind each word.
But it can
. We all know this. We’ve all seen someone in our lives affected by this nasty disease.

“I’d like to think not as well, but—”

“I know,” he cuts me off.

The conversation between the doctor and Cali ends quickly and she ambles toward us with her head down, leading me to believe whatever she heard isn’t good news.
Please, God, don’t let anything bad happen to Tango.

Cali sits down beside me and rests her head on my shoulder—another non-Cali-like gesture. “His leg is going to take a while to heal. It was broken in four places, and they needed to put screws and a plate in. He probably won’t be able to walk for a couple of months at least. Only one of his ribs is cracked, the rest are just badly bruised.”

“Oh my gosh, Cali.” I don’t want to ask if they told her any more, but I get the sense that there is more.

“Is there anything else?” Jags asks.

Cali lifts her head from my shoulder and sniffles in. “I guess his white blood cell count is up, but that’s all they know right now.”

“Cal,” Jags says strongly. “That could be because he’s in surgery, fighting infection, or it could be because he’s under stress, or because he had a cold. You cannot jump to conclusions; you understand me?”

I don’t think I’ve heard this side of Jags before. He’s so serious and confident. Regardless of his reassuring words, Cali begins to cry harder, as if she were letting out all of her pent up tears that she’s been holding in for years.

“When can you see him?” I ask her.

“They’re moving him into a recovery room right now so they said it would be about thirty minutes or so,” she says through a loud exhale. “You guys don’t have to wait here with me. I’ll be okay. I’m sure it’s okay for me to bring Tyler in.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I tell her.

“Yeah, we’re your family, Cal,” Jags says. “A demented one, but it is what it is.” His words cause Cali to release a soft laugh. I’m not sure if it is to appease Jags’s attempt at cheering her up or if she truly feels a little better, but his words are most definitely a true statement.

“Thank you both for being here,” she says. “It’s nice to know I have you to depend on.”

As we all settle back down, Tyler stirs and pokes her head up with a lazy look in her eyes. “Where are we?” she asks softly.

“Your silly daddy broke his leg, baby. We’re just waiting for him to get a cast so we can go in and see him,” Cali says to her.

I don’t know how she does it. I’m not sure I could ever live up to being a mom like her, continuously hiding the pain and turmoil of real life while pretending it’s one big cupcake made of rainbows. I also spent most of my life believing that’s how life is supposed to be, even as an adult. After these last couple of weeks, though, I don’t know what to believe. The illusion of my safe, comfortable life was pulled out from under me like a carpet, revealing the reality, like an ugly floor underneath.

Tyler hops down from Jags’s leg, runs over to Cali, and snuggles her head into her chest while wrapping her arms around her. “Daddy gets hurt all of the time,” she giggles against Cali. “Last week he put a staple through his thumb.”

“He did what?” Cali asks.

“Oops,” she says, covering her mouth. “He told me not to tell you.”

“What was he doing?” Cali asks her.

“Stapling my homework together.”

“That’s my man right there,” Jags says loudly. “The dude can take out an ambush all on his own but can’t staple paper together. Or keep himself from falling off a second story platform.”

“Tango is definitely a klutz sometimes,” Cali laughs.

“Doesn’t sound that way when you two are in bed together,” I mutter.

Cali straightens her posture with a confidence she didn’t walk into the hospital with. “Oh, that man has no problems in bed, I will tell you that much,” she says with pride. “Though, I guess if you want to stick around our house now, you probably won’t be hearing any noises for the next month or so.”

“Whoa, whoa. Don’t put a stake in my man’s heart like that, girl. If there’s a will, there’s a way,” Jags adds in. Jags seems as though he’s exactly like the two of them—Cali and Tango—and I’m just the odd ball who turns a shade of maroon when someone talks about life between the sheets. Maybe it’s because I was raised that way, Mom being so conservative and Dad being assertive, and yet passive at the same time. There wasn’t a whole lot of talking in my house, and there certainly wasn’t any affection to be seen. I don’t even know what it’s truly supposed to be like. All Landon did was mess that up even more.

“You have a valid point,” Cali says. “It’ll take a lot of nursing to get that man back on his feet.” Oh my gosh, here we go again.

“A lot-t-t-t of nursing,” Jags adds in, “but if anybody can get Tango up, you can.” How are they so comfortable having this conversation with each other? They literally just met for the first time a little over a week ago.

“Mrs. Wright, you can go on in and see your husband now. Just one at a time for the moment, though. Room five-eighteen,” I nurse calls over.

Cali doesn’t say much to us as she stands up. “We’ve got Tyler. You go on in,” I tell her. She rushes for the door that leads to the patient rooms and doesn’t look back at us. I would hate to be in her position right now, just wondering how this is all going to turn out and when her world is going to blow up again.

“You think Tango’s okay?” Jags asks me.

“I don’t know. Cali doesn’t usually overreact unless she has a real reason to.”

“I’ve heard,” he says. “I think he’s okay, though. He has to be okay. No one goes through that shit twice in a lifetime.”

“Yeah, people do,” I mutter softly.

“I know. I was just trying to make it sound better,” he says with a lazy grin.

“Do you always have a smile on your face?” I ask.

“Whenever I’m trying to hide something, I sure do.”

That’s what I thought.
I lean forward and glance over at Tyler, who’s rummaging through a stack of kids’ books in the corner. “What are you hiding, Mr. Jags?”

Jags leans forward, meeting me halfway between the row. “You show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” he winks.

“Do you always have a dirty mind?” I follow.

“Yes, Ma’am. Guilty of that.”

“Why?” I press.

“Because you’re hot and out of my league and every man wants what they can’t have.”

I want to respond with something as slick as what he just said, but my mind is spinning in circles around the words, “You’re hot.” He thinks I’m hot? No one has ever referred to me in such a way. I get beautiful, pretty, and cute, but not usually
hot
. I don’t expose more than I should, unless I’m bending over looking for electrical outlets evidently, and I don’t flaunt what I have since I don’t see a reason for it. It usually only ends up causing unwanted attention and that clearly hasn’t gotten me anywhere in life. “I’m not sure I’d refer to myself in such a way, but I appreciate the compliment.”

“Are you fucking serious?” he asks, appearing taken aback. “You’re probably the hottest chick who has ever spoken to me.”

Again, shocked, I respond with, “That is not what I’ve heard about you.”

Looking only slightly appalled with my accusation, he recoils with, “Don’t believe everything you hear, doll-face.”

“Tango was saying you were with some girl at the bar just last night,” I tell him.

“He said that to you?” Jags asks.

“Well, not exactly. I can hear everything through the bedroom walls, though. He was telling Cali you told him about some girl named Bambi?

Jags laughs a little but also looks strangely angered by my comment. “Bambi isn’t who you think.”

“I don’t think anything, Mr. Jags. It’s none of my business what, or who you do with your time.”

“You’re obviously thinking something, or you wouldn’t have brought it up.”

“I’m thinking that any girl named Bambi must be one special lady,” I say.

“Oh, she’s special all right,” he laughs. “Look, Bambi and I go way back, but it isn’t what you’re thinking.” What should I be thinking? How did we go from being Cali and Tango’s closest friends to drilling each other as if we’re planning some sort of awkward future date in his bed?

“So, if I agreed to this whole roommate/bodyguard funny business, would you be bringing Bambi into my house for sleepovers?” I do have a right to know that, but I’m not sure when I made the conscious decision to approach this whole Jags sleeping on my couch thing. That is so not something I would normally agree to. But now, with Tango being in the situation he’s in, I don’t think they need a house guest in their way at home. Things are going to be hard enough as is for a while. After finding that my locks were tampered with, there’s no way I can stay in that house alone.