Healing His Heart Page 3

  "Sure." I walked around the apartment on shaky legs, peering at my belongings to see if anything looked odd. My hips and thighs began to feel sore from all the movement they’d endured today. My bookshelf was full of odds and ends, from my favorite book series, to empty DVD boxes that I really needed to toss, because the DVDs were actually in a binder case. Knick-knacks, mementos, and collectibles filled the rest of it up. I straightened a teddy bear I'd had so long I couldn't remember where I got him. He'd fallen over sometime in the past few days since I'd positioned him on the bookshelf.

  After I looked through the bedroom, I joined Patrick and Brady in the kitchen and sat at the table. "Nothing. Everything is normal. They even left my watch collection."

  I'd collected antique watches for years. One of my favorite weekend activities used to be hitting the flea markets in search of old watches I could restore.

  "There are some valuable pieces in there," Patrick said.

  Nodding, I cocked an eyebrow.

  He shrugged. "I looked at them when I unpacked them. I figured if you wanted them kept a secret you would've done it yourself."

  He wasn't wrong. I'd made absolutely sure my sex toy collection was something I handled all on my own while Patrick took a shower. "I'm not mad." I squeezed his hand and noticed Brady noticing our touch. I hoped he didn't get any ideas.

  I hoped I didn't get any ideas. I wasn't sure striking something up with my nurse was the best idea.

  But it also wasn't the worst.

  4

  Patrick

  The rookie, a woman named Leia, found nothing. Of course. By the time Leia and Brady left, Tyler was ready for a nap. I shooed him into the bedroom and left him to sleep. He still slept around six hours more than he needed to, an indication his brain needed more time to heal.

  The next few days passed without incident. True to my word, I made Tyler tackle the stairs the next day. We went down, rested, then back up early in the morning, again around lunch, and then again before bed. The exercise exhausted him, but it was exactly what he needed.

  Every day and every time he climbed the stairs, he got a little stronger. By the end of the week, he didn’t have to rest in the middle. “You’re making such good progress,” I praised him as we walked back into the apartment. “You’re not going to need me for much longer.”

  “Oh, yes, I do,” he countered. “I don’t know if I’m up to standing there and cooking yet, and I can’t drive. And what if I have a seizure?”

  “You haven’t had one in almost two weeks. That’s very encouraging. Plus, the dog should be here very soon.” I put him to bed for a nap and opened my laptop. Home health nurses were required to input a status update daily into the database. His doctors had access to it so they could review his health at his appointments.

  As I input his progress, guilt ate at me. He was ready for me to leave him at night, especially with the dog coming today.

  I loaded the numbers I'd taken this morning. Weight, blood pressure, oxygen levels. Everything had been normal the entire time I'd been with him. As soon as he could climb the stairs unaided, I'd be forced to let go and recommend he need no further nursing care. I'd lied to him to be able to be around more and be near him in case of seizure, but I wouldn't lie on the paperwork. It was too important his doctors have an accurate look at his health.

  When everything was in the system, I sat and looked around the small apartment. We'd put up bookshelves in both rooms to help hold all of Tyler's stuff. He was a packrat, for sure, which was a fun combo with his tendency to be a neat freak. I'd managed to get him to donate a few small boxes of random items, but not much. His closet was completely overflowing. Once I moved out, his best bet would be turning the living room into his bedroom and the bedroom into a closet and storage area.

  I knew I'd have to go soon, give up my couch-bed and let Tyler go. The day was coming, soon. Probably within the next week.

  The prospect made me sad. As glad as I was that he was healing on track, getting better every day, I wanted him to continue to need me.

  If only I'd been honest with him, I could volunteer to stay on. I'd take another day patient, then come back here in the evening and look over him. Take him grocery shopping.

  His wheelchair caught my eye. He hadn't used it all week, moving around the apartment on his own two feet.

  I sighed and grabbed a duster. Might as well make myself useful. I cleaned, put together a casserole for dinner, and watched a soap opera in the background.

  Caring for Tyler was the most rewarding job I'd ever had. How would I tell him it was time?

  The sounds of the object of my affection rustling around in the bedroom snapped me out of my train of thoughts. Good thing, too, I was about to work myself up into a panic.

  What a mess I'd made of things.

  Tyler opened the bedroom door and shuffled out, wearing his Golden Girls pajama pants. "What time is it?"

  "Time to put real clothes on," I said with a laugh. "They'll be here soon with the dog."

  His face lit up. "I'm so excited. I mean, I know he's a highly trained service animal and cost more than my parents' house when they first bought it. But I've always wanted a dog, and now I get one that I can take everywhere with me."

  "Yes, but you've got to remember to walk him. It's not going to be easy at first."

  He disappeared into the bedroom. His voice drifted out to continue the discussion. "You'll be here to help me, and the walks will do me good."

  "They will. Definitely. But I won't be here forever."

  He came out looking disappointed, wearing tight jeans and holding his tee.

  "When do you have to leave?"

  Well, I guessed that solved the problem of how I'd tell Tyler. "When you can go up the stairs alone, if your numbers continue being so good, and especially if you don't have a seizure. The dog getting settled helps, too. Pretty soon they'll recall me."

  He sat on the couch, still without a shirt on, his lean chest teasing me. My eyes wanted to glue themselves to it, but I wouldn't let them.

  It nearly made me tear up to stop from looking, though. I turned around and made him a glass of water that he hadn't even asked for to remove the temptation.

  "How soon?" His voice was small. Did he want me to stay as much as I wanted to?

  "I'm guessing within the next week," I said as I looked at the glass of water.

  "Well, that sucks. I've enjoyed having you here. It was almost like..." He trailed off. Fuck that. I needed to know what it was almost like. Having a brother? A boyfriend? If he said brother, I feared I really would cry.

  "Like what?" I asked as I walked the water over to him. He'd put his shirt on, thank goodness.

  "Like having a relationship. I mean, no sex, but we could've added that in." He winked at me as he took the glass.

  My throat closed up and my dick twitched hard in my pants. Whirling around, I tried not to squeak. "I'll get your mid-day medicine."

  "You're so shy," he said with a laugh.

  I wasn't really that shy. But how was I supposed to respond to the joke about sex from someone I wanted to make slow, tender love to? I didn't have the first idea how to respond, so I retreated.

  "I'm not actually going to have sex with you," he said. "I mean, I like my partners to be willing participants."

  "I'd be willing," I blurted out as I turned back to him with his pill bottle in my hand. My eyes widened and if I could've made myself melt into the floor and disappear forever, I would have. I may not have been shy, but who the hell said stuff like that? I had to fix it fast. "I mean, if I wasn't your nurse."

  He stared at me, slack-jawed. "You would?"

  "Of course," I exclaimed. "Have I not been obvious? Because I've felt really obvious."

  "No, I thought you were one of those people that have to take care of others. Hence being a nurse."

  "I mean, I am. But not like this." I was at a perfect moment to tell him the truth. I opened my mouth to tell him I had a confession when
the damn dog showed up.

  "Speaking of that-" The knock cut me off.

  “Oh, the dog!” He jumped up, more energetic than he’d been since I’d known him. “I’m so excited.”

  Tyler opened the door to let Max and Carson in. Max had gone to get the pooch that morning. Technically, we were supposed to go to the trainer and spend time there with him, learning his commands and going over his training, but since it had worked out like magic that Max took an apprenticeship with the man that trained Tyler’s new dog, we were allowed to do it in a bit of an odd fashion. "Come in, come in." Tyler stepped back, then dropped to his knees when he saw the golden retriever. "Hello, little guy," he cooed.

  I looked at Max and Carson with an amused expression. "You guys can come in, too. Don't mind him."

  They laughed and scooted around the dog, who was nuzzling Tyler's face. "Oh, my gosh, he's great." Tyler finally stood. I moved to help him, but he made it to his feet before I got close enough. Another sign he was getting closer and closer to being able to live on his own.

  "Okay," Max said. "We have lots to teach you."

  "Start with this guy's name," Tyler said in baby talk.

  "This is Harry. Harry Pawter."

  I burst out laughing, as did Tyler. "That's amazing."

  "His trainer is known for coming up with creative names," Max said. "The last one was a girl. Sarah Jessica Barker."

  "Are you going to do that?" Carson asked.

  "Yeah, why not? It's cute." Max continued by teaching us Harry's seizure cues. "Harry was trained at a prestigious facility in Seattle. When we found out you'd be able to get him, I arranged for his seizure-specific training to happen with us."

  "Oh, I had it mixed up," I said. "I thought your boss had trained Harry from a puppy."

  "No, but it was great timing that he finished training a seeing-eye dog just in time to take Harry on. Harry is a seizure-sensing dog. He’ll give you cues that will tell you you've got a seizure incoming. You'll need to take action to get yourself safe and notify someone that one is coming."

  "Hell, yeah," Tyler said. "I thought he was more like a response dog. Like once I went into a seizure, he knew how to bring me a phone and stuff."

  "No, he's been trained to smell a seizure coming."

  "How?" I asked incredulously.

  “Nobody knows. But some dogs have an innate ability to smell a seizure coming. He tested very well and predicted the seizure nine out of ten times. And the longer he's with you, the more he'll be able to predict your specific seizures.”

  “What are his triggers?” I asked.

  Max explained that Harry would spin in circles and bark softly. “Once you’ve seen him do it once, you’ll never mistake it. It’s a very specific circle, bark, circle, bark.”

  We talked in further detail about Harry, then once Max was sure he’d been through everything with us, Carson asked if we’d heard Corey’s news.

  “No, what?” Tyler said.

  “John was released from prison.”

  Tyler gasped. “No.”

  “Yes. It was some technicality about the evidence processing, and he ended up having all charges dropped, even the old ones.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Tyler sat back, shocked. “Is Corey okay?”

  “He’s better than Brady. Brady’s about beside himself worried John is going to show up and do something horrible to Corey.”

  “I mean, I can’t blame him for worrying. I’d feel the same way,” I said. “I’d be thinking about moving.”

  Carson shook his head. “Corey won’t give up the life he’s begun to build. He says he’s happy where he is.”

  “I knew I liked that guy. I’ve only met him a few times.” Tyler leaned forward and buried his hands in Harry’s fur.

  “He came to visit you, while you were out,” I told him.

  “He did?”

  “With Brady, yeah, but it was obvious that he had a good heart. He wasn’t comfortable in the hospital, that was apparent, but he stayed with Brady.”

  He’d been so head over heels in love with Brady it was almost nauseating to watch.

  Carson checked his watch and tapped Max’s leg.

  Max nodded. “It’s time for us to go. Here’s a list of the food he eats, his bathroom schedule, and that sort of thing. It’s good to keep him on the same schedule and gradually adjust it. He’s gone from his trainer at the facility for two years to training with us for a month to now you. He needs to settle and see some stability.”

  “Gladly,” Tyler said. He waved goodbye to his friends as I saw them out.

  “Well,” I said. “What’s that paper say?” Time to figure out Harry’s schedule.

  5

  Tyler

  If I’d known having a dog was so rewarding, I would’ve done it years ago. From the moment I set eyes on Harry, I was head over heels in love with him. Three days after he came into my life, we sat in the living room, tossing a ball. Patrick had been quiet all morning.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice forlorn as he picked up the ball and threw it into the bathroom for Harry to run after. “I think after they read my report today, they’ll give an end date.”

  The idea of him leaving had been on my mind. I was surprised at myself because I truly didn’t want him to go. The past few days, I’d been looking at him in a different light. Suddenly, I didn’t want him to see me naked. Not in the same way. I felt shy when I didn't think I'd been born with a single shy bone.

  "What makes you say that?"

  "Because in my report today I said that you're progressing beautifully."

  "Can't you fudge?" I asked, but I knew the answer. He wouldn’t.

  "Never mind," I said. "I already know you well enough to know you wouldn't."

  He nodded. "I've done a lot of things wrong in my life, but I won't lie to your doctors."

  "Okay, but that doesn't mean we can't still be friends, right?" I asked.

  Patrick broke out in a big grin just as the phone rang. I'd had a house line installed the day before. Max said that Harry was trained to go find a phone when the seizure triggers started, and we weren't totally sure he'd grab the cell. Better safe than sorry.

  One of the receivers was on the end table beside me. "Hello?" I answered on the third ring.

  Nobody responded.

  "Hello?" I asked in a sing-song voice. "Anybody home?" When there was still no answer, I hung up. "Maybe there's some issue with the line that's making it ring."

  Patrick shrugged. "I don't think so, because that's the fourth or fifth one today and there were several yesterday, and one of them this morning, I'm positive I heard someone clear their throat."

  "Well, it could be tied to whoever had this phone number before me."

  He nodded. "I bet you're right." Hopping up from his spot on the couch, he walked into the kitchen. "What sounds good for lunch?"

  "Anything you feel like making," I said. "I'm not picky when I'm not cooking."

  "Well, in that case, how about we go downstairs and let your aunt cook us up something?"

  I was starting to feel a little restless. We hadn't been out yet today, besides when Patrick took Harry to run in the back. The yard behind the diner wasn't fenced, but Harry was so well trained we could let him go nuts. Patrick had been gone for nearly half an hour while I napped.

  It was embarrassing, but he'd not been willing to leave me alone to nap and take my service dog, too. We'd compromised by calling a girl I'd gone to high school with that I knew had a baby recently. Turned out she'd never even turned on the baby monitor she'd bought and was thrilled to sell it to me and get half her money back.

  Now, Patrick took Harry to get some exercise, and most likely would hear if I got into any trouble.

  When he left, Harry would stay with me at all times. I'd be the one taking him to run. The good news was if I had a bad day, I could sit on top of the stairs and throw the ball for him. I'd done that the day before while Patrick show
ered.

  Physically, I'd be okay if Patrick left. Mentally, not so much. I realized I'd started asking his opinion about small things. Even down to what clothes matched or not. His opinion mattered to me.

  "Sure, but let's leave Harry. I know legally he can go anywhere I do, but let's not stress Aunt Daisy out by bringing a dog into her diner."

  Patrick chuckled. "Okay. You ready?"

  I'd showered earlier and even had my shoes on already. "Sure, let's go eat."

  Without thinking, I started down the front stairs that would lead us to the door to the diner. Halfway down, I looked back at Patrick. He hadn't begun the descent. "Lock the door," I reminded him. "Just in case."

  He smiled down at me. "You realize what you did?"

  I shook my head as he locked the door then joined me.

  "You went down the stairs without thinking. Without waiting for me."

  I looked down at the stairs I still had to walk down. They didn't seem intimidating. Going back up still was a bit overwhelming, but down was easy.

  "A week ago, even going down was difficult for you," Patrick said, reading my mind.

  "Wow," I whispered. "Maybe I'm ready to fly solo after all."

  Why did that make me feel so sad? It should be a happy day when we realized I could make it on my own.

  "We've still got a few days, though, right?" I asked. "Even if they reply today, they'll give you a last day to come."

  "I don't actually know," he said as he opened the door to the diner for me. "You're my first job with them."

  "Oh, yeah, I'd forgotten." I waved to Daisy.

  "Am I glad to see you," she said, nearly panting. "Are you feeling good today?"

  Nodding, I gave her a quick side hug. "I think so, what's up?"

  "We're slammed. Can you direct traffic from the host stand?" She barely spared Patrick a glance. "Hey, sugar," she told him as she ran past.

  "You sure you're up to this?" he asked. The volume of the diner was pretty high, nearly every table filled and most of the counter. He had to speak loudly to be heard over the din.