Sugar (29 page)

Liz had suffered a bad reaction to the new antiemetic medication. Fortunately it didn’t happen that often but it did happen. It wasn’t until Sarah was settled into the waiting room that she checked her phone and saw Cole’s text.

Outside your building with soggy Chinese takeout & no key. Where ARE you?

Shit! In cluster fuck of calling the doctor’s after hours’ service, triaging Liz according to the emergency operator’s instructions, and calling Honey to come over and sit with Jonathan, she’d forgotten their date. That was what her mother would have called ‘poetic justice’ but right now all she could think about was Liz.

She tapped out a short, just-the-facts reply.

With Liz in ER. Looks like bad reaction to chemo. Sorry about soggy Chinese. Maybe you can find a “friend?”

Seconds later he texted back:
Is she ok? What hospital? PS: Not looking for anymore “friends.”

Yeah, right, asshole!

Not sure, admitting her for observation. Sloan-Kettering but we’re ok. PPS: Leftover Chinese makes great breakfast
.

Makes great midnight snack too. On way
.

Thanks but not necessary
.

Sarah threw her phone in her bag and got up for another vending machine coffee, not because it was remotely drinkable but for something to do. Sitting alone waiting on the doctor’s report was driving her crazy. Texting back and forth with her BFB—Best Fuck Buddy— wasn’t helping, either.

A ding announced the landing of yet another text message. This time, Sarah left the phone inside her purse.

Cole looked down at the two bags of Chinese carryout he carried. He hadn’t known what Sarah liked so he’d ordered one of all the Usual Suspects on the menu. In true Canning fashion, when all else failed, he’d reached for his wallet and thrown money at the problem.

That worked with most other women but not with Sarah.

She hadn’t answered his last text message. He had a pretty good hunch she wasn’t going to. He didn’t blame her. If their roles were reversed, he probably wouldn’t reply either. That didn’t mean he was happy about it.

For the first time in his life, he was the one left holding the bag— and the phone. Unbidden, he felt a surge of sympathy for Candace and the other women he’d dated since Iraq. Being on the wrong end of a silent phone seriously sucked.

Standing around doing nothing had never been his forte. No matter how hard he tried staying put, no matter how many times he tried telling himself that Sarah’s sick friend and her sick friend’s adorable kid weren’t his problem, it was no use. Above all, Sarah was his problem. That she might need him but be too stubborn and independent and brave to admit it ripped at his heart. And the hell of it was that he wanted her to need him. He wanted to be the one she turned to whether she was worried or scared, horny or pissed off. The need to see for himself that she was okay trumped all his rationalizing. He’d never wanted to shelter and protect someone so much in his life.

So why the hell was he still standing on her street corner? Shifting the food to all one hand, he lifted the other to flag down a cab.

Sarah sat alone in the ER waiting room. At home with Jonathan, Honey had started a phone tree for their group. The bulk of the concerned text messages and phone calls had hit about an hour ago. Predictably everyone’s first response was to want to run to the hospital, but Sarah had counseled them all to hold tight and stay put, at least until the morning. Liz wasn’t yet allowed visitors. She was just now getting settled into her room. There was no point in flocking to the ER just to hang out with each other in the waiting room. Still, without company the hours crawled by.

She folded her arms about herself and closed her eyes, trying to nap, but the neon lighting and the intermittent intercom shout outs made sleep of any kind pretty much impossible. Her brain was too wired to focus on any of the magazines she’d picked up, flipped through, and put back down again. Most of them were at least a month old anyway. She didn’t have her iPad with her, so she couldn’t read a book. That was probably for the best. The device was largely loaded with romance novels. Given her circumstances those were the last materials she should be reading.

Looking for distraction, she dug the phone from her bag. Another text from Cole—Jesus, give it a break. She should ignore it like the last but she could feel her willpower weakening, and not only because it was pushing towards 2AM. Being worried, pissed off, and now bored made for a really bad combination.

I want to help. You don’t have to deal with this alone
.

Sarah gritted her teeth.
There’s nothing you can do. And I’m fine
.

Bullshit, you’re exhausted
.

How the f*ck would you know that?

Look up
.

Why?

Just do it
.

Sarah looked up. Cole walked toward her, a carryout bag in either hand.

Rising on shaking legs, she managed a smile. “You really don’t take no for an answer, do you?”

“Never.” He dropped the food on the coffee table and opened his arms.

Sarah had no reserve to resist. She fell into them. Leaning into his strength and warmth, she pressed her face against the side of his neck, inhaling his tangy scent, wishing she might stay close to him like this forever. “I said . . . I was . . . fine.”

She looked up in time to see him smile. “Yeah, you did. You used to be a better actress.”

Thinking how earlier Liz had said the same thing, she found herself smiling back. “I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.” She hugged him harder. “I can’t believe you came. I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Of course I came,” he answered in a thick, scratchy voice although she was pretty sure he’d cut way back on the cigarettes. “Did you think I wouldn’t? That’s what friends do. They cover each other’s back.”

Sarah stiffened. Cole was nothing if not a standup guy, but she mustn’t mistake his kindness for more than it was.

Tensing, she eased away. “Right, about that—”

“Are you here for Liz Cunningham?”

Sarah swung around to the doctor. “Yes, I am. I’m her friend—and her medical power of attorney,” she added quickly in case he was thinking about turning her away.

His expression eased into a smile. “Fortunately that shouldn’t be needed tonight. Allergic reactions to antiemetics aren’t common but when they occur they can be serious. Your quick response in getting her here made a huge positive difference.”

“It’s her son who deserves the credit. He found her on the floor and called me. Fortunately I live just a few blocks away.”

“Well, he’s a very smart young man and you’re a very good friend.”

“Can I see her?”

He hesitated and then nodded. “Yes but only for a few minutes. She’s settled into her room and resting comfortably. She just woke up but we’re keeping her sedated.”

“Great, I won’t stay long.” She glanced back to Cole. Despite what he’d said, she didn’t expect him to hang out waiting. Now that he’d discharged his friendship duties, he’d want to head home. Letting him off the hook, she said, “Looks like I’m going to be taking a second rain check on dinner.” Or breakfast or post two AM snack, whatever it was.

He shrugged. “That carryout isn’t going anywhere and neither am I. We’ll both keep until you get back.”

Once Sarah saw Liz looking so much better, her adrenalin bottomed. Returning to the waiting room where Cole sat watching reruns of
That Seventies Show
, hunger warred with fatigue. Her stomach growled, and her legs felt weak. He was right. She really did need to eat something that didn’t come out of a vending machine. He’d used the time she was away to clear the coffee table of magazines, set them aside in a neat stack, and unpack the food containers and chopsticks.

Taking it all in, Sarah shook her head. “You’re going to make someone a wonderful wife someday, but I don’t think you’re actually allowed to bring in food.”

He followed her gaze to the tented “No Food or Drink” sign on a lamp table. Smiling, he leaned over and flipped it facedown. “Don’t you know by now, Sarah, it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission? Besides it’s just us.” He patted the couch cushion beside him.

She hesitated and then dropped down beside him. “Geez, the restaurant owner must love you. What
don’t
you have here?”

He looked almost embarrassed by the question. “I . . . wasn’t sure what you liked.” The admission came out almost as shyness.

“I like all the flavors, remember,” she shot back, giving him her best “Sugar” smile, but she was too beat to channel the porn diva mojo.

Instead she focused on feeding herself. As hungry as she was, it was an effort just to chew. At Cole’s urging, she managed to scarf down a few spring rolls before giving up and curling up on the couch.

“Just going to . . . rest my . . . eyes.”

Cole settled Sarah’s head more comfortably on his shoulder. He reached over and smoothed back the hair from her brow. She didn’t stir beyond snuggling closer. Cole smiled and pressed a kiss into her hair. She was out like a proverbial light, which was no surprise to him. She’d obviously been running on fumes since before he’d got there. Now that Liz was out of immediate danger, she’d crashed. Cole had experienced a similar reaction in the aftermath of diffusing a particularly difficult explosive device.

The doctor had been right. Sarah was a good friend. As Cole well knew, she was a good person all around. Strike “good,” she was great to and for them all—Liz, Jonathan, her FATE friends and him—especially him. He was a better man for having met her and not only because his smoking and drinking were down and his sleeping up. Thanks to her, he’d learned to laugh again, to joke, and to be himself without any bullshit or posturing. In just two months, she’d become so much very more to him than a fuck buddy. If he were honest, he’d admit that all the ways she was “more” frightened him half to death.

Two months ago he’d been hi-fiving himself for having scored “Sugar” as his no-strings-attached lover. Looking down at Sarah’s profile, peaceful in sleep, he couldn’t imagine feeling that way now.

But like Jekyll and Hyde, Sarah and Sugar were a package deal. Accepting one meant accepting the other. And it wasn’t like the “Sugar” aspect of the duality was in anyway hard to take. He loved how down and dirty she could get both in bed and out of it.