Merciless

Before I had formulated my response-that might be never-I watched him climb into his vehicle and drive away.

I ran into the house and up the stairs. “Lex? Get a move on, boy. Your dad is awake and we need to double-time it to the hospital.”

• • •

I was nervous.

Dr. Jeffers wanted to meet with us ahead of time. To warn us of complications?

I’d seen far too many of those made-for-TV movies where the coma patient wakes up and doesn’t remember anybody.

Or the coma permanently altered the patient’s personality.

Or the patient had nerve damage that affected the physical condition of the body.

So I was grateful for Lex’s chatter in the pickup on the way into town, although I processed it only as noise.

At the hospital the doctor informed us that there didn’t appear to be any permanent brain damage. That, except for a few minor things, Dawson had come out of the coma better than expected. He’d make a full recovery.

All my life I’d heard the word miracle tossed around, but I’d never believed it until now.

Mason would remain in ICU for a day or two, but we didn’t have to don protective gear to see him.

Lex practically bounced from foot to foot as we stood outside the door to room 406. The doctor went through a list of suggestions, which again, I largely didn’t hear, due to my thundering heart.

Then the doctor opened the door.

My first glimpse was of Dawson sitting up in bed. Arms crossed over his chest as he scowled at the TV. His gaze snapped in our direction at the sound of Lex’s shoes squeaking on the floor.

But his eyes were solely focused on me.

Lex raced toward him, only to come to a screeching halt.

Then he looked at Lex. “It’s okay, son. I’ll take a hug just as long as you don’t squeeze my neck.”

Mason’s voice was a deep rasp, his words slower than normal. I hung back and let Lex entertain him, until Mason fidgeted and raised a questioning brow at me.

“What?”

“You’re acting a little gun shy for bein’ my fiancée and all.”

I smiled and reached for the hand he’d held out. I threaded my fingers through his and brought his arm to my chest, wrapping my other arm around and giving his knuckles a soft kiss.

The doctor said to Lex, “The nurse mentioned ice cream. Let’s have you pick some for you and your dad.”

After they were gone, I said, “How do you feel?”

“Confused. My throat feels like I swallowed a pound of glass and chased it with a gallon of lemon juice. My head… hurts. My eyes… are happy to see you.”

“Just your eyes?”

He smirked. “The one-eyed monster is happy to see you, too.” Dawson tugged on my arm as a signal he wanted me closer.

I leaned close enough to feel his minty breath on my cheek before I lowered my mouth to his for a chaste kiss.

He murmured, “Kiss me like you mean it, woman. I damn near died.” And he promptly blew my mind with a kiss so hot, yet so full of love, that those pesky tears filled my eyes again.

But I didn’t stop kissing him. Couldn’t, actually.

Finally, I eased back and peered into his face. “You ever scare me like that again, Mason Dawson, and the hurt I’ll inflict on you will be ten times worse than any two-thousand-pound bull, got it?”

“Loud and clear, Sergeant Major.” He frowned. “Your mouth is bleeding.”

His enthusiastic kisses had opened the cut on my lip, but I’d ignored the pain. I grabbed a tissue and dabbed at the spot.

Then his focus narrowed on my face. “Jesus. Is that a bruise? What the hell happened to your cheek?”

“Would you believe I walked into the barn door?”

“No.”

I forced a laugh. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You seem a little… off.”

You have no idea. “Been rough having my man in a coma. I’m better now that you’re better.” I let my fingertips brush the bristly growth on his cheeks and jaw. I just wanted to crawl in bed with him and surround myself with everything that was him.

“Mercy. What’s really goin’ on? Something happen at work this week?”

“Nothing that I can talk about.” Not a total lie.

Dawson closed his eyes. “You want to know what woke me?”

If he said some kind of woo-woo shit, like he’d had a nightmare about me being in danger, I’d freak the fuck out. “What?”

“I dreamed about that weekend I visited you at Quantico. We hadn’t seen each other in two months.”

“And we didn’t leave the room for the first twenty-four hours. After that we barely left the hotel.” I remembered thinking the state’s slogan-VIRGINIA IS FOR LOVERS-was apt. “Why do you think you dreamed of that?”

“Because that’s when I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“We were solid.” His breathing slowed. “So you’re really gonna marry me?”

“Yes, if you ever produce a ring.”

“It’s been in my sock drawer since the week you came home. If I’da known a head injury was the way to convince you to become my wife, I’da climbed on a bull a lot sooner.”

I resisted my impulse to whap him on the chest. “I’m not changing my name.”

“I don’t care. Just as long as you don’t change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.” A long pause. “I’m so tired.”

“Rest.” I brushed his hair back from his damp forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”