The Davenport Christmas Chronicles - Piper Davenport Page 0,64

mom get to me first. “I’ll get a nurse,” she offered, and walked out of the room.

“Baby,” Mom crooned.

“Hi, Mama.”

Before she could say anything else, Sawyer rushed in and shooed everyone out of the room.

“Can my mom stay?” I asked.

“That should be fine,” Sawyer said, and my family walked out of the room. “How’s your pain level?” she asked as she took vitals.

“I don’t have any pain.”

She checked the pain pump and smiled. “Well, you got dosed less than an hour ago.”

I assumed my mom probably did and left it at that.

“Your fever’s gone,” Sawyer said with a grin. “That’s really good, Kennedy. The doctor’s going to be really happy.”

“When will the doctor be here?” my mother asked.

“I paged him, so he’ll be here any—”

Before she could finish her sentence, the doctor walked in, pumping his hand with sanitizer, then making his way to me. “Hi, Kennedy, Dr. Warren.”

“I remember,” I said.

He nodded. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit in the leg by a tree.”

He smiled. “Well, that’s a good sign. If you didn’t feel anything, I’d worry.” He turned to Sawyer. “I want a full CBC and let’s get another x-ray on that leg.”

“Yes, doctor.”

He turned back to me. “How’s your pain?”

“It’s good,” I said.

“She had a dose a little over an hour ago,” Sawyer informed him.

“Have you been awake that long?” he asked.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

“Her man has been timing her pump,” Mom said. “He woke himself every four hours to press the button.”

“He did?” I asked.

“Yes, baby, he did.”

Warm fuzzies began to form in my heart and I gave them an internal admonishment because there was no way in hell I was about to give into them.

Stupid fuzzies.

“I’m done waitin’,” Mouse growled, pushing into the room.

“Sir, we’re not done here,” the doctor said.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he hissed.

“Is it okay if he stays?”

This question came from my mother and I raised an eyebrow in her general direction. Not that she could see me... she wasn’t looking at me. Her head was fully turned toward Mouse and I had a feeling she was probably drooling at his gorgeousness.

“That all depends on what Kennedy wants,” the doctor said, and Mouse stared at me, virtually daring me to protest his presence.

“I’m fine with him staying,” I said.

But only after I made him wait a few tense seconds.

“Right,” the doctor said, and squeezed my hand. “Do you have any questions for me?”

“When can I go home?”

He smiled gently. “Not for a little while. But on the bright side, you can have something to eat if you’re hungry.”

I nodded. “I am. That would be great.”

“Sawyer will let you know what we have.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Your pulse is good,” he said, and pulled the blanket back to look at my leg. “Good color,” he mused as he studied the incision and the halo that was now holding the leg together apparently.

“When did I get that?” I asked.

“We had to go back in on Thursday.”

“Thursday?” I squeaked. “What day is it today.”

“Sunday.”

“Oh my god, seriously?”

Dr. Warren focused back on me and nodded. “You had a nasty infection and have been in a coma, but everything is looking really good and I think you’re on the mend. We’ll continue to watch you closely over the next forty-eight hours.” He smiled again. “I’m very happy with your progress, Kennedy. Your body is doing what it’s supposed to do.”

I nodded, biting back tears, hardly hearing anything the doctor said after he said ‘coma.’

Jesus.

Mouse was suddenly at my side, his hand sliding into mine and he squeezed gently. “You’re okay,” he whispered.

“I’ll leave you now, but if you need me, please let Sawyer know,” Dr. Warren said.

“Thanks, Dr. Warren,” my mom said, and the doctor left the room.

“Do you want vanilla, chocolate, or tapioca pudding?” Sawyer asked.

“Chocolate, please,” I said, and she nodded.

“I’m going to update your dad and Remington,” Mom said.

The second the door closed behind them, I burst into tears. “Oh, god,” I rasped.

“Baby, you’re okay. Everything’s okay.”

“I was in a coma.”

“I’m aware, Lace.”

“I could have died.”

He wiped the tears from my cheeks. “Also, glaringly aware of that fuckin’ fact, Kennedy.”

“Were my parents freaked?”

“We all were,” he said.

I nodded. “I’m so sorry, Declan.”

“Baby, stop. You heard the doctor, you’re doing really well. You didn’t lose your leg, or more importantly, your life, and now we can focus on you healing fully.”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

I sniffed. “You could be a bit more gracious about that.”

“I’ll think about it when you’re back to fighting status.”

I

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