Her eyes widened with hurt, and she sat back in her chair, staring at him.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly.
“It’s okay,” she said, giving him a small smile that lit up her whole beautiful face and made his heart clench with the wanting of her. “I’m really, really glad you’re home.”
Well, that’s something. “Yeah?”
“Of course.”
Hope multiplied. “Really, Gin?”
“You’re my best friend, Woodman. Of course I’m—”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuck.
“Here we are!” interrupted his mother, handing his rucksack to Ginger.
Her timing was impeccable. If he’d already lashed out at Ginger for asking about his plans, he was about go to ballistic when she called him her best friend. But his mother’s presence tempered his response, and he clenched his jaw, staring daggers at Ginger until she got the point and looked away. She busied herself looking for his meds, finally holding up a vial. “See this?”
All he saw was the girl of his dreams treating him like a patient, not a man. He nodded curtly.
“Says ‘Take as needed every four to six hours for pain,’ right?”
He nodded again.
“Are you in pain?”
He looked at her deep brown eyes, drowning in them, terrified that an injury he never saw coming would be the thing that ruined his chances with her for good.
“Yeah, Gin. I’m in pain.”
She flinched slightly, fully aware of his double meaning, before lifting her chin and schooling her expression into Nurse McHuid’s. “Then you should be takin’ one every four to six hours. When did you last have one?”
He shrugged, looking away from her. Go, go, please go. I can’t bear this anymore. “I had half of one at four.”
“It’s eight thirty. Take another.” She opened the vial and shook one into her hand, holding it out to him.
He cut his eyes to hers, then, slamming into them, nailing them, owning them, hoping that she could see that there was still a strong, vital man sitting in this chair with his shattered foot up on a flowered cushion. He was a man and she was a woman, and they would fit together like lock and key if she would only give him the chance. She would never want for anything. He’d spend his whole life making her happy. If she could only see him—only see the wellspring of his love for her and deign to accept it.
He rested his fingers in her palm before taking the pill and swallowing it down. “Happy now?”
“Yes,” she said, standing up and kissing his forehead again. “I’m happy now.”
She didn’t look happy one bit, but when her sweet lips brushed against his forehead in a chaste kiss that she’d give a brother or a baby, he closed his eyes and let himself bask in her touch. And to his surprise, his heart, which still clung to much higher hopes, despite everything, couldn’t fathom giving up on her.
***
Even though things hadn’t gone the way he wanted with Ginger last night, he still felt much better in the morning. He’d taken another Vicodin at three o’clock in the morning and slept until almost nine, when he took another. With the pain better managed, he still felt like shit, but not quite as bad as yesterday.
Not quite as bad physically, at least.
His heart, however, was feeling a little battered.
After Ginger’s initial hello, she hadn’t exactly welcomed him home with kisses and softness and excitement, and while he was champing at the bit to start officially dating, she was far more concerned about his pain meds. Maybe it was time, even long past time, to lay all his cards on the table. He was home. She was home. He wanted to be with her. It was time to say it.
When Cain arrived later that morning to check in on him, he was sitting on the porch, his mood still middling foul.
“How you doin’?” asked Cain, taking the free seat beside his cousin. “Good to be home?”
Woodman shrugged, reaching for a glass of the sweet tea his mother had brought them. “It’s good to see my folks. But I hate the way they look at me.”
“They’re just worried, son. Give them some time to adjust.”
“Yeah, I know,” he muttered, setting his glass down. “Want to know the worst of it?”
“Tell me.”
“I liked bein’ a damage controlman, Cain. I liked puttin’ out fires. I liked feelin’ like a . . . a danged superhero. I would’ve done it forever. I would’ve stayed in for the four years like we promised, then come home and gotten a job workin’