Love Slave for Two Collection [Box Set 7]
She finished and peeked at Nevvie. “Do you need another blanket or pillow?”
“No, thank you. She’s fine. Just pull the door shut, please.”
She glanced at the clock. “You’re due for meds at five. If you promise not to die on me, I’ll hold off on taking your next vitals until then.”
Tyler managed a smile. “Thank you.”
He actually managed to doze a little, Nevvie’s presence doing him as much good as it did her. When he felt a tug on his arm, he opened his eyes, surprised to see it was five o’clock already.
“Sorry,” Elise whispered. “I was trying not to wake you.”
He nodded and closed his eyes again as she did what she had to do, leaving them alone a few minutes later. Nevvie didn’t stir. It was after six when she finally opened her eyes.
“Morning, love,” he said, kissing her cheek.
She closed her eyes again. “I hate this.”
“Just a few days, then I’ll be home.”
“I know.” She shivered in his arms and he carefully pulled her closer.
“Try to grab a few more winks. You can’t go see him right now, it’s after six. Shift change.”
She nodded and a few minutes later, she fell asleep again. This time she slept until after seven-thirty. She helped him to the bathroom, gave him a sponge bath then took a moment to freshen up before heading to the ICU. When she returned an hour later she had a carryout tray from the cafeteria. His breakfast had just arrived. Together they silently ate and watched the Today Show.
* * * *
The routine was a comfortable way to numb Nevvie’s emotions. Between shuttling back and forth to the office to help Bob with Kinsey Consulting, relaying information to Tyler’s publicist and agent, and dealing with the crush of their friends and media, she was usually emotionally and physically wiped out every evening.
Still, she couldn’t sleep. Not at home, at least.
Not alone.
Despite Tyler’s urging, she returned to the hospital every night, first to take care of Thomas, then to go upstairs to Tyler’s room and curl up with him to catch a couple hours sleep.
Not usually one to wear make-up, at Karen’s suggestion Nevvie started using a light concealer and powder to hide the deep, dark circles under her eyes from Tyler’s scrutinizing gaze.
Chapter Eleven
Nine days into Tyler’s stay, a timid-looking young woman in office clothes and a hospital name tag appeared in the doorway of Tyler’s room. Karen was down in the ICU, Peggy sat in Tyler’s room with Nevvie, Tyler and Bob. Eddie and Pete were watching Adam for the day since Cheryl and April had returned home to Georgia.
Bob, sensing something amiss, immediately took over. “Yes?”
“I need to speak to Mr. Paulson.”
Bob pulled himself to his full height. “I’m his attorney.”
“I’m from Administration. We have a woman downstairs demanding to see him. She claims she’s his mother.”
Nevvie glared. “Aw, fuck. I’ll take care of her.”
Tyler grabbed her arm before she could stand. “No, love.” He looked at the girl. “Go ahead and send her up.”
“Tyler, the last person I want to deal with is Delores! You don’t need the stress—”
“Love.” He turned the full force of his eyes on her. “Do I look like I’m stressed? I won’t die, I promise. Sooner or later we need to deal with her. Especially if she’s here.”
Nevvie finally nodded. “Okay. Bob, you stay close.”
The woman left. Ten minutes later, they heard Delores get off the elevator down the hall, her loud, brash voice muttering dangerously.
Nevvie tensed, but Tyler held her hand and squeezed.
Like flipping a switch, when Delores appeared in their doorway, her dark muttering stopped and she put on a false, cheery front.
“There’s my baby!”
She tried to swoop across the room to hug him, but Nevvie stayed firmly planted next to his chair and refused to move.
Delores glared. “I’d like to hug my son.”
“You’ve just rode in a small metal tube full of germs across the Atlantic Ocean with a couple hundred strangers. I’d rather you didn’t get too close and risk getting him sick.”
Tyler apparently knew even his considerable sway with Nevvie would be taxed, so he didn’t press the issue.
Peggy stood and started to gather her things. “I’ll go on down to the cafeteria for a while.”
“No.” Tyler’s firm voice shocked Peggy. “Please don’t, Mom.”
Delores’ face darkened as Peggy glanced at them then retook her seat.
Nevvie couldn’t stand it. “I thought I told you to stay the hell home, Delores.”
She stood maybe an inch taller than Nevvie in bare feet, but her shoes added a little height. Tyler didn’t get his blue eyes from her, that’s for sure. In fact, Nevvie realized Tyler looked nothing like his mother, whereas his younger brother and sister strongly resembled her. Her muddy hazel eyes looked washed out in stark contrast to her dyed bright red hair. She was maybe five years younger than Peggy, but with her face deeply lined with wrinkles she looked fifteen years older. She positively reeked of cigarette smoke.
“I didn’t come here to see you,” Delores said through gritted teeth. “I came to see my son.”
Tyler squeezed Nevvie’s hand but didn’t make her move. “You should have called, Mother.”
Delores frowned. “Aren’t you happy to see me? I’ve come to help take care of you.” She pasted a fake smile on her face. “I can stay as long as you need me.”
“You aren’t needed,” Tyler said before Nevvie could. “We don’t have room for you to stay.”
“But you have that big house! And I wanted to see my grandson.” She shot a nasty look at Peggy.
Nevvie sensed Peggy tense, but the other woman said nothing.
“Mother, we have a full house right now. Frankly, we don’t have room. I’m not going to be able to spend any time with you because our focus is on taking care of Thomas.”
She frowned. “What’s wrong with…him? If he loves you as much as you claim he does, shouldn’t he be here with you?”
Nevvie started to speak when Tyler clamped down on her hand and answered, the anger in his voice thinly disguised. “Thomas was in a motorcycle accident. He’s in a coma in the ICU.”
Nevvie watched Delores’ face. Her eyes took on a cold, calculating look. “Well, I should think with his family here they could take care of him. You need your rest. I’ll take care of you. You need your mother.”
Nevvie couldn’t hold it back any longer. “How would you know what he needs? You practically disowned him when he left home, until he became successful!”
“How would you know?” Delores shot back. “Do you think it was easy having two normal children, and then knowing that my eldest child decided to waste his life living like—”
“Don’t say it,” Nevvie growled. Tyler tightly gripped Nevvie’s hand again, keeping her by his side. The murderous look in Nevvie’s eyes drove Delores back a step. “Don’t you fucking say it, you goddamned bitch. He loves Tommy, and Tommy loves him. That’s none of your business.”
“What do you really want, Mother?” Tyler asked. “Quit blowing smoke up my arse.”
Delores tried for indignant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! I come all this way to see you—”
“You haven’t asked to see me in years. How many times have I been to London and rang you up to get together, but you were too busy to make time for me? How many times have you called me? The last time was when Nev was hurt and it made it into the news. I’ve always called you. I send you cards. Oh, wait, there were times you needed a thousand pounds here or there for miscellaneous items, then you didn’t hesitate to call. Yet when I nearly die, you suddenly make a grand gesture. Certainly you can see where I’m skeptical.”
Tyler’s angry words stunned Delores into silence. Nevvie couldn’t believe it. Delore
s finally blustered, “You are obviously not feeling well, son.” Then Nevvie recognized the reptilian glint in her mother-in-law’s eyes. “When the Mirror and The Sun called me up asking for quotes, I certainly never suspected I’d receive this kind of reception.”
Ka-ching. “So which one paid for your ticket?” Nevvie snarked.
Tyler squeezed her hand again. “Of course,” he said, “a logical, rational person would have called first, before coming all this way, if they didn’t have ulterior motives.”
That seemed to put Delores off her game for a moment. “Why do I need to call for permission to see my son?” She shot another withering glare at Nevvie.
Tyler nudged Nevvie to the side so he could stand. “You’ve seen me. Was there anything else?”
Obviously this wasn’t going nearly as well as Delores thought it would. She opted for outright extortion. “Perhaps my big shot son could see his way to help his mum out. The papers invited me to give them a call upon my return to update them personally on your…condition.” That was definitely an evil look in Nevvie’s direction.
“Well that’s certainly helpful of you,” Tyler said.
“This is all your damn father’s fault,” Delores snapped. “If that filthy bugger hadn’t left us, you never would have gotten involved with these people. It figures you’re the spitting image of that bastard, and look how you turned out. Just like him.”
“Mother, you can go to bloody hell for all I care.”
Her jaw dropped. “What?”
“You heard me.” He turned to Bob. “Call security. Get her out of here.”
Desperate and realizing she’d fucked up, Delores switched tactics again. “You’re obviously not well, son,” she whined. “You need your mother.”
“He has a wife,” Nevvie said. “He told you to leave.”
Delores glared at Nevvie. “You’re just a little slut after him for his money, don’t think I don’t see what you are. You and that freeloading bastard—”
“Out.” Tyler’s threatening whisper caught their attention as if he’d screamed. “Get out, right now, or so help me I’ll wring your bloody neck with my bare hands.”
“But Tyler, I’m your mother!”
“Not anymore.” He pointed at Peggy. “That woman has been more a mother to me than you ever have. I want you out of my life. Get out. Now.”
Nevvie stood behind Tyler and put her arm around his waist, supporting him.
Delores looked at him, the color rising in her cheeks. “How can you say that to me?”
“Because you have never once considered anyone else’s feelings but your own. You practically disowned me when I left for the States until I sold my first novel. Then suddenly you wanted to be a part of my life again when it suited your needs. You’ve never once acknowledged Thomas as my partner. You only want money from me, you disrespect my spouses, and you’re irritating. So, Mother, I’m telling you now, get out of my life.”
Bob had slipped out of the room and returned with hospital security.
Delores, realizing her ill-conceived plan had backfired, stared at Tyler. Her eyes coldly glittered. “You haven’t heard the last of me, Tyler,” she said.
The security officers escorted her out.
After Delores left, Nevvie breathed a sigh of relief. “What’s next?”
“Call Elliot. We need a pre-emptive strike.”
“What?”
“Love, she’ll try to sell her sob story to the tabloids. We have to put out a story first.”
“What story?”
He turned to her, his blue eyes playfully gleaming. “Isn’t it a shame? I suspect my mother is suffering from early Alzheimer’s, poor dear. She’s obviously in early dementia. What a pity. She vehemently refuses all help despite her irrational behavior. I gave my siblings a trust account so they’ll be able to properly care for her in her dotty state.”
Nevvie didn’t bother to try to contain her laughter. “You didn’t?”
“I did, years ago. I set it up with my brother and sister. They’re as sick of her as I am, they’ll back me up. No one will pay her a dime for her version after our story comes out. Exploitation of the aged and infirm, you know.”
She laughed. “You really are the evil genius. I hand the crown back to you.”
Peggy smiled. “Dadgum, I’m glad I’m on the right side of the fence on this one.”
He hugged her. “Don’t worry, Mom, you absolutely are.”
Chapter Twelve
Nevvie had already come and gone earlier that morning when the doctors made their rounds. Tyler’s cardiologist looked at his chart and made a few notes.
“Well, Mr. Paulson, are you ready to go home?”
“Really?”
“Everything looks good. We’ll set up follow-up appointments and get you started on a cardiac rehab program, but we’ve done all we can do for you here. You can go home and continue recovering there.”
“Thank you.” As soon as the doctor left, Tyler grabbed the phone and dialed Nevvie. It was only seven-thirty and she sounded worried when she answered.
“Tyler? What’s wrong? Is Tommy okay?”
He laughed. “Love, at least one thing is right with the world. Make sure you bring me something when you return this morning.”
“What?”
“A decent pair of trousers and a shirt. And some shoes.”
“Why? What…” She hesitated. “You get to come home?” she whispered.
“I was just given the final okay.”
He heard her sob.
“Love, please don’t cry…”
But she still looked puffy-eyed when she raced into his room less than an hour later, an overnight bag slung over her shoulder with his things in it. She gently hugged him. “Really? You’re not kidding?”
He smiled. “I’m not kidding love. You can take me home today. I’m just waiting on the paperwork now.”
Tyler changed into the clothes Nevvie brought him. Seeing him in a pair of slacks and a button-up shirt comforted her in a way she didn’t anticipate.
Normal.
He looked normal. No more IV tubes in his hands. The surgical incision hidden by his shirt. All that remained was the hospital ID bracelet on his wrist.
Nevvie anxiously paced until the nurse arrived with the paperwork. She explained everything to them, went over all the discharge instructions and forms, and Tyler signed. Nevvie made several trips to the car to stow his things. When she returned from the last one, the nurse followed her in with a wheelchair.
Nevvie pointed at it. “Get in, your ride’s here.”
“I can walk, love.”
“Hospital rules, Ty. You know the drill. Just don’t expect me to carry you across the threshold when we get home.”
He laughed, groaning a little. He was healing.
Nevvie wanted to snatch the wheelchair out of the nurse’s hands and run Tyler down to the car. Instead she leaned in and kissed him. “I’ll meet you at the front entrance, okay?”
“All right, love.”
Nevvie hurried ahead, nearly floating with joy. One down. One down. One down.
One to go.
The only thing that tempered her enthusiasm was knowing Tommy still lay unconscious in the ICU. Karen and Peggy would stay at the hospital with Tommy while Nevvie got Tyler settled.
Got him home.
* * * *
At home, Nevvie closed and locked their bedroom door behind them and helped Tyler to their bed, quickly pulling back the covers so he could lie down. Once he was settled he crooked his finger at her and she carefully curled next to him, his arms around her. Then she closed her eyes, buried her face against his chest and took a deep breath. Sobs wracked her body as he tightly held her.
“That’s right, love,” he whispered. “Let it out. I’m home to stay, and part of this nightmare is over.”
She sobbed so long he wondered if he’d need to call a doctor for her. Eventually she cried herself to sleep and he tried to nap, glad
she finally had a chance to get the worst of it out of her system. He knew there would be more tears—hers and his both—once Thomas was safely home. For now she’d vented a little pressure and hopefully could function again. She could release some of her burden to him. Emotionally, at least, even if he couldn’t do much physically yet to help out.
After an hour she stirred and opened her eyes, carefully placing her palm against his chest.
He laid his hand over hers. “It’s still beating, love.”
A soft, sad smile caressed her face. “You guys aren’t allowed to die before me. I can’t stand it. I can’t handle losing you.”
He touched his forehead to hers. “You’re not losing either of us, sweet. You still have us, and we love you. Thomas is simply away for a while. I have every faith in him and his love for us that he will pull through this.”
She lay there with him for more long, quiet minutes. “I can’t lose you.”
He kissed her forehead. She looked aged since that morning, deep lines in her face, dark circles under her eyes.
“Listen to me, angel.” He waited until she tipped her head back to meet his gaze. “You aren’t losing me.” He curled his fingers around hers and brought her hand to his lips. “I love you more than my very life, and you are not losing me.”
He shifted position slightly, until she was nestled against his chest, her head tucked in the crook of one arm while his other hand lightly rested on her mid-drift. “You’re not losing me,” he firmly repeated and kissed her.
“Wait, Ty—”
“Shh.” He kissed her gently, slowly, taking his time and savoring her. No, he wasn’t in the mood, between his pain, exhaustion and the medication, but he desperately wanted to bring her some normalcy, a tangible sign of recovery she could hold on to. He slipped his free hand inside her waistband.
When her body stiffened and she reached to push him away, he softly said, “No, angel. Don’t do that.” He kissed her until she relaxed again. His fingers found their way between her legs and gently parted her. She sighed against him, one hand cupping the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his hair.