The SEAL's Rebel Librarian (13 page)

He smiled. “What happened?” he asked.

I fell in love.
“A rabbit ran in front of my bike. I swerved and lost control. Actually,” she said, “I overbraked my rear tire and underbraked my front tire. Stupid mistake.”

The nurse whisked the curtain around the gurney, then handed Dr. Clay a pair of scissors. They both started cutting Erin out of her clothes. “How long have you been riding?”

“About a week?”

He chuckled, but his expression went a little blank as he carefully peeled back her shirt. On the other side of the gurney a nurse was doing the same thing to her ruined jeans.

“You've got quite a collection of bruises,” Dr. Clay said. His voice was mild, but the look in his eyes was anything but as his gaze flicked from her collarbone to her hips.

“Oh. I jumped out of an airplane right before I wrecked my bike,” she said, trying to figure out how she'd managed to mark up her throat. Oh. Jack's mouth. “Those … the others are … were … consensual,” she finished weakly, her face in flames. Jack was studying the floor, his arms folded across his chest, his feet spread. She couldn't tell if he was amused or mortified.

“Good,” Dr. Clay said. The nurse draped a hospital gown over Erin's body, then pulled up a blanket. “I want to run some tests, get X-rays, that sort of thing.”

A couple of hours later an orderly wheeled her back into her room, where Jack was waiting, sprawled in a chair with his head back and his eyes closed, both helmets on the floor beside him. His eyes flashed open when the orderly said cheerfully, “Here we go.”

“You're still here,” Erin said, straightening out of the wheelchair, wishing she had on clothes, not the hospital gown. She winced when her bruised, scraped hip took her weight. Jack was by her side in an instant.

“Of course I'm still here. I've got her,” he said, his strong arms under hers, helping her up into the bed. Her breath hissed out when she stretched out again. Jack tucked the sheet and blanket firmly around her lower body.

“Hey, you,” he said softly. He took her hand, thumb stroking over the backs of her fingers.

She dragged in a shaky breath. “Hi,” she said. She couldn't easily meet his eyes, not knowing what would show in hers. She felt like she'd been dragged through the day by the scruff of her neck, the jump, the accident, the completely unexpected realization that she'd fallen in love with Jack.

“I called a truck to take your bike to the dealership. They'll call you with an estimate for repairs, if they can fix it,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said faintly.

A figure dressed in the khakis and button-down of an insurance salesman appeared in the doorway. Erin blinked for a second, then recognized her ex-husband. “Erin. What the hell,” Jason said resignedly.

Just when she thought the day couldn't get any worse. “Why are you here?” she said, perhaps not all that kindly, but they
were
divorced.

“Apparently I'm still listed as your emergency contact,” he said, approaching the bed and eying Jack, then the motorcycle helmets sitting side by side on the floor. “Erin. You didn't.”

“Not your business anymore,” she said. “But yes, I did. I said I'd do it, and I did it.”

“At least you're not on my insurance,” he said.

She was spared the necessity of responding when two more people appeared in the doorway. “Jack. Thank goodness you're okay!” the woman said, squeezing the hand of the man accompanying her.

“Rose,” Jack said, straightening. “What are you doing here?”

Ah, the sister. Erin wished for a split second that she was meeting the dazzling Rose under better circumstances, but then remembered it wouldn't matter, because none of this was leading anywhere in the long run.

“Hawthorn's brother, the police lieutenant, called Keenan saying one of the guys on his team was involved in a motorcycle crash. Jack. I'm so glad you're okay. We've all been so worried about you.”

His voice trailed off. Jack's gaze was fixed on the tight grip his sister still had on the other man's hand. “You can let him go now, Rose. I'm fine.”

His sister's chin lifted. Rather than stepping away from Keenan, she stepped a little closer. “I can't, actually,” she said.

Jack sat up, then straightened, sending the rolling stool crashing into the wall. “What the hell?” he said, the phrase half question, half threat. “Keenan. Jesus!”

“Keep your voice down,” Rose hissed. “This is a hospital, and it's not what you think.”

“It's not?” he said, incredulous. “It sure as hell looks like what I think it is! When did this start?”

Rose opened her mouth. Keenan gave her hand a squeeze, then said, “In Turkey.”

Jack stared at him. “You bastard. You promised me you'd take care of her! Instead you get up to who the fuck knows what, and you don't even tell me about it?”

At
You promised
Erin's heart skipped a beat, but Jack's shocked, disbelieving tone, made it stop dead in her chest. The only thing left behind when someone broke a promise was blood and tears. She knew that tone. Knew it well.

Keenan's eyes narrowed, but Rose's hand tightened on his. “Don't even start, Jack,” Rose snapped, then drew a deep breath. Jason looked like he wanted to buy some popcorn and settle in for the show. Keenan looked like he'd been carved from the same mold as Jack, and Rose looked like she was on the verge of losing her temper in a really spectacular way.

The door opened slightly, and the scissors-wielding nurse poked her head in to survey the room. “I thought I heard raised voices,” she said mock-incredulous. “But I'm
certain
I was wrong, because this is a
hospital,
and people are trying to
heal
here. Including her. Surely you're not all upsetting her. She's had a very long day already.”

Jack looked abashed. Rose shot him a glare. Keenan, who Erin could already tell would be ice cold in a crisis, didn't move a muscle. Jason smirked at Erin, as if to say
See what kind of chaos you create when you start down this road?

“We were just leaving,” Rose said, eyeing Jack. “I hope you feel better soon,” her tone gentling in a heartbeat as she smiled at Erin. “Don't let this stop you from riding. It happens to all of us.”

“Ma'am,” Keenan added formally to Erin. “We'll talk later,” he added in Jack's direction, then guided Rose out the door.

“You bet your ass we will,” Jack muttered.

Jason opened his mouth.

“Go home,” Erin said. “Please.” Exhaustion loomed over her, powerful, deceptively frothy at the top, and while she appreciated Jack's silent, looming, intimidating presence at her bedside, she wasn't looking forward to the conversation they had to have, right now.

Jason scuttled out, avoiding eye contact with Jack.

He hooked the rolling stool with his foot and sat down beside her bed again. He ran a hand through his hair, then blew out his breath. “Do you want some water? They gave you pills for the pain.”

She'd refused anything with narcotics in it, accepting only prescription-strength over-the-counter medications, but even without codeine, she was getting sleepy. “I'm fine,” she said, and tugged her hand free from him. “You can leave, too. No need for you to hang around.”

His forehead furrowed. “Who's going to take you home?”

“I'll call Carol.”

“Okay. Sure. Why?”

She looked down at his hands, still resting beside her arm on the thin hospital blanket. “Let's not make this into something it isn't, Jack,” she said quietly. “I've done the things I said I was going to do. We should go ahead and end it now.”

Shock flashed across his face before the shutters slammed closed. “Erin, what the hell—”

She refused to flinch, just took his hand because it was the last time she'd ever get to touch him, her amazing, courageous man. “Look, Jack, you're steady as a rock. Which is great. We've both done what we said we needed to do. It's best if we make a clean break. Right now. Thanks for everything,” she finished, because her throat was closing off, and even though her heart was breaking, she refused to show it.

“Sure,” he said. He straightened, sending the rolling stool back against the wall.

Erin was too strung out to flinch at the crash.

“Fine. Yeah. Whatever. Have a nice life.”

It was a good thing she was so tired, she thought fuzzily as she slid down a long, dark tunnel into sleep. Maybe when she woke up this all would have been a dream.

*   *   *

Jack spent the next two days researching and writing his final paper. After he sent the paper to Professor Trask, he turned to his bike. But hours of speeding down tree-lined country roads, catching the glint of animals' eyes in the ditches as he revved the engine to its max only proved to Jack what he already knew: he was rock solid again. No more nerves. Helping Erin paddle around in an adrenaline junkie's kiddie pool somehow helped him, too. And now she'd cut him off with only the most pathetic it's-not-you-it's-me for a reason.

Finally, around ten, he parked the bike in front of his favorite bar, dug his cell phone from his jacket pocket, and scrolled through his recent calls to Keenan's number.

“We're not doing this over the phone,” Keenan said by way of greeting.

“Shut the fuck up and meet me at Jackson's Hole,” Jack said, shrugging out of his sheepskin jacket. It was officially too warm to wear it now, even after the sun went down. A whiff of Erin's subtle perfume still clung to the interior. Jack tried not to press his face into it and breath so deep he could fill the hole inside himself.

“Okay,” Keenan said mildly, and hung up.

Jack was three whiskeys in by the time Keenan arrived to toss his car keys and cell phone on the polished oak bar and settle onto a stool. He ordered a beer, then turned his gaze to the baseball game Jack wasn't really watching.

“How's Erin?” Keenan asked.

“I wouldn't know,” Jack said. “She kicked me out right after you and Rose left.”

Keenan raised an eyebrow, although at Jack's statement or the second baseman's fielding error, Jack wasn't sure. “That day at the hospital. You weren't mad about me and Rose. You were upset because someone you cared about was in a motorcycle crash,” Keenan said matter-of-factly.

“I was pretty upset,” Jack said, and knocked back another shot, thinking of red-light districts on four continents. “I know what you're like.”

“Was like. I'm not like that with her,” Keenan said. “She's different.”

Jack snorted.

“Dude. Get your fucking head out of your fucking ass. Do you think I'd move halfway around the world just to fuck someone? Knowing it would cost me your friendship? Your respect?”

Jack blinked. Remembered Keenan's asshole father, the one who prized the military above everything else, and got himself killed taking just one more tour, one more deployment, when he was long past his prime as a Ranger. Remembered how Keenan hadn't made any plans beyond contractor work in the Middle East. Jack wanted that work, that life. Keenan had been doing it because he thought there was no other option. “Wait, you're here for Rose?”

“Jobs are jobs,” Keenan said offhandedly, eyes on the game. “I'm here for Rose.”

“Well, fuck.”

“I'm going to marry her,” Keenan added.

“Does she know this?”

“Not yet.”

“Good luck with that.” Jack finished the rest of his beer. “If you hurt her, ever, you answer to me.”

“Like Rose isn't perfectly capable of dismembering me on her own,” Keenan said. “Look, I totally respect that. Message received, loud and clear. Now leave it the fuck alone. She's mine. I'm hers. It's between us now.”

“Fine, fine.” Jack sighed, and signaled for the bartender. “Just bring me the bottle,” he said.

“That'll definitely take the edge off whatever's eating you,” Keenan said.

“She dumped me.”

“Wait, what? When?”

“Just after she kicked you all out of the hospital room. She said we had a good time together, but she'd checked everything off her list, and we should just end it now.”

“What list?” Keenan said, obviously struggling to keep up.

“She had a list of things she wanted to do after she got divorced. Buy a bike, go skydiving, start dating again.”

“That's weird,” Keenan said. “She didn't look like someone who wanted to end a relationship. While you were yelling at me and Rose, I was watching her. She didn't have much color to begin with, but she went white when you started going off about keeping promises.”

Keeping promises …

The penny dropped with the impact of a five-hundred-pound bomb, shaking the ground under him. “She made a big deal out of not breaking her word to me,” he said. “Her ex called her a quitter, said she was breaking her word, going back on her vows. She said her word meant everything to her, and she'd never make another promise she couldn't keep. She promised me this would be casual.”

“Was it?”

He thought about it, about the rush of her bike, about the wildly exuberant way she threw herself into the dive, about the heat of her mouth against his. “Not even. Not to me, anyway.”

“It wasn't to her, either,” Keenan said, then added when Jack raised an eyebrow, “After a few weeks with your sister I know exactly what a determined woman looks like.”

Jack contemplated this for a minute.

“You look like yourself again,” Keenan said finally. “What happened?”

Erin happened. “Who knows? I got over it,” Jack said shortly. He'd been steady as a rock the last two days, pushing his body through SEAL workouts, finally feeling like himself again. “Maybe I just needed some time.”