sent him to the kitchen to busy himself and get her some food before he showed her exactly how much he still cared.
He helped her move to one of the two chairs at the tiny table placed at one end of the living room. “You comfortable enough to eat here? Or do you want to sit in your armchair and drink the soup from a mug?”
“This is okay. Smells wonderful.”
“I’ll take the dogs out again while you eat. Don’t try to get up until I get back, promise? We won’t be gone long.”
She nodded, and he escaped with an urge to kiss the top of her head before he went, as he often had when he’d left for work or meetings in the past.
The dogs were excited to be outside again, and he wondered how often Jill had to walk them. Did she take them on her runs sometimes? Probably only Hudson would be up for that. Yorkie might have a big attitude, but there was no way his short little legs could handle the miles Jill logged.
Probably he should keep the dogs out longer, but he felt an uncomfortable niggle, worrying about Jill and how she was doing all alone, and hurried back after only about twenty minutes.
Seeing her still sitting at the table when he nudged open the door had him smiling in relief.
“I see you’re being a good patient.”
“Did you doubt me?”
The smile she sent back held a hint of the mischievous Jill he’d adored.
“I’m limiting myself to one event per day of finding myself on the floor.”
“How about trying for zero events? The first one about gave me a heart attack.”
“I’m still sitting here, aren’t I? By the way, Kandie called and she said she can stop by after work tonight to check on me, see if I need anything. How would you feel about taking the dogs to your place until Briana gets here? I mean, I know you’re super-busy, but you can hire a dog walker to take them out while you’re at work. It...it wouldn’t be for long.”
How much he didn’t want to leave her or the dogs shocked him, and his feet seemed rooted to the floor even as he’d been thinking about how difficult it was to be here with her.
“Is Kandie spending the night?”
“No, of course not. She has a young son, and there’s no reason for her to do that.”
“Post-op orders are for you not to be alone tonight.”
“I feel okay. Barely woozy from the pain meds now. I’ll be fine.”
“Is the woman who just fell in the bathroom actually saying this?” He stared at her. “You’ll need to take meds when you go to bed, to help with the pain when the block wears off. And what if you fall again with nobody here?”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“It did happen—and, since you’re a smart woman, you know that’s not something you can assume.”
He folded his arms across his chest, ignoring her mulish expression. Two could play at the stubborn game, and he had no intention of losing because the thought of her lying hurt and alone chilled his blood.
He realized there was only one solution that would solve the problem, difficult though it might be.
“You and the dogs are coming home with me, and staying there until your sister comes.”
JILL’S HEART BUMPED hard against her ribs, then seemed to stop for a moment before revving up again. Stay at Conor’s place? Be close to him for hours on end, reminded of all the good and bad parts of their marriage and why it had fallen apart?
“No.” A feeling of panic filled her chest. “I’m not doing that. Period.”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense. I live just a couple blocks from HOAC. Tomorrow morning you’ll get your cast off and have a splint made, then you’ll be able to easily go back to my apartment and get some rest.”
“No. There’s no way—”
“Listen to me.”
He pulled the other chair close to her and leaned forward. His expression was earnest and determined, and she’d learned from the past that trying to fight him when he’d made up his mind would be like beating her head against a brick wall, bringing another bruise. But that kind of bruise wouldn’t hurt nearly as badly as the one on her heart.
“I get that you want to limit how much time we spend together—I do, too, to be honest. But remember my work hours that you hated so much? I’ll hardly be around—just enough to make sure you’re okay overnight. To walk with you to your appointment tomorrow morning. I’ll find someone who wants to make some extra cash by checking on you when I’m not there and walking the dogs. It’ll work out until your sister gets here. By then you’ll be off the pain meds and able to stay alone.”
She absorbed his words. The logic behind them. Her apartment was a good half-hour trek away from the center on the subway. When the numbness wore off and her cast was replaced by a splint she’d be in pain and still a little drugged up. Plus, she knew from talking with her patients that the challenge of trying to function with one hand wasn’t going to be easy—especially with no one around to help.
Time for her to act like the mature and reasonable woman she was trying to be. The one who was fighting her insecurities and who didn’t want or need a relationship until she’d dealt with all the baggage her marriage to Conor had proved she still carried around.
And maybe it wouldn’t be too awful. He worked so much she’d probably hardly see him. Finding someone else to help her and take care of the dogs, with him basically an overnight watchdog for the next few days, was the logical solution.
Rock versus hard place. That described the situation to a T. She couldn’t deny that trying to stay here alone, with her arm still in the nerve block, and then somehow making her way to the orthopedic center all by herself in the morning wouldn’t be easy, even if she took a taxi.
“All right.” She heaved out a resigned sigh, shoving down the dread that came along with it. “I know you’re right. I shouldn’t be alone right now. Just for a day or two, though. Then I’ll come back here, and you can keep the dogs until Briana comes.”
“Thank you.” He stood and looked down at her, his expression hard to read. “I’ll clean up the dishes while you rest.”
Hating this whole scene, she reached for her spoon but managed to knock it off the table instead. Apparently clumsiness was part of this whole experience, and she sighed as she leaned over to pick it up off the floor. As she did so, her stupid dead arm swung out.
Yorkie had been standing there, waiting to see if some treat might be offered, and her arm in its heavy cast hit the poor pup right on his little nose, knocking him sideways to the floor as he yelped.
“Oh, dear! I’m so sorry! Aw, come here, Yorkie.” She reached out her good hand and was glad he came over to let her pet him, clearly not holding a grudge.
“Damn. That thing is a lethal weapon,” Conor said as he stepped away from the sink. He reached for her numb arm, currently held in a sling, and placed it back against her stomach. “Poor dog. And poor you.”
He gathered up Yorkie, tucked him under his arm and scratched behind his ears, with an indulgent smile on his face which sent another stab to her chest.
This was the sweetness she’d fallen head over heels in love with. The thoughtful and considerate man who had treated her like a princess during that brief month they’d dated before they’d impulsively, excitingly, got married. The man who hadn’t even particularly wanted the dogs, never having had a pet, but who’d wanted