Sweet One (Titan Book 8) Read online

  “I can’t give you that answer.”

  “Does he just open his eyes and—what, we start therapy? He’s going to be groggy? What? I’d like some details here because—”

  “Because you’re overwhelmed and feeling the timeline of your pregnancy.”

  Her shoulders slumped. Saying it like that made her sound selfish. But it was also true. “I want my husband healthy and at home, yes.”

  Dr. Lobani leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together before steepling them. “Most coma patients wake within days.”

  Days! That didn’t sound too bad. She had thought weeks; in the made-for-TV movie about their lives, he would wake up to find his kid in college or something.

  “They don’t just suddenly arise, but rather, it’s a waking process. Moments of alertness. Passing realizations coupled with long bouts of rest.”

  “How long?”

  “Gradually. He’ll stay awake with us longer, and we can assess how he is.”

  “Meaning?”

  “We’ll determine what steps he will have to take in recovery.”

  That made sense. It wasn’t as if her husband would just wake and skip out of the hospital, one hundred percent better. What if he didn’t wake? “Do stable patients always get better?”

  “Our focus is Cash. Not patients in general. Let’s watch his progress over the next few days.”

  “But that does happen? Sometimes stable people don’t wake up?”

  He shook his head. “Brain injuries manifest in many ways. We need to watch your husband, and prepare for future rehabilitation.”

  “What kind of things”—Nicola cleared her voice, trying to hide the fear—“should I be prepared for?”

  “It is a wait-and-see situation. The brain could—”

  She flattened her hands on the table. “What kind of things?” She hoped he’d see past the shock and anger and understand the level of desperation that she was teetering on and her need to plan for the future. “Please.”

  “Anything from a lack of motor skills, mental reasoning, and verbal abilities to cognitive deficiencies.”

  “Meaning what? Cognitive deficiencies?”

  Again, the doctor scrutinized her, likely knowing that she was Titan and former CIA and that if she wanted to, she’d torture the information out of him. But his eyes showed compassion and acknowledgement that they were just two young parents, wanting desperately to live their lives together. “Concentration, memory, speed of processing information. Things of that nature.”

  Cash’s career would be over if he lost all of those things. She gulped away the hurt that she prayed he would never know. “That’s all, huh?”

  “Impulsiveness, confusion.”

  “That was sarcasm, Doc.”

  Dr. Lobani rubbed his forehead. “There’s no need to worry about what may not be an issue.”

  “He’s had brain trauma before.”

  Nodding, he said, “I’ve read his file.”

  “Not good, right?”

  “Many circumstances can affect TBI.”

  “What’s that?” she asked.

  “Traumatic Brain Injury.”

  Was that a label that a parent-to-be was able to handle? Nicola fidgeted. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “I wish I had a better answer.”

  She looked at the doctor with raised brows and an unsteady gaze. “Than…?”

  “Wait and see.”

  ***

  One night and two days later, the vigil hadn’t changed, and the doctors weren’t making Nicola feel any better. Even the nurses were giving her pitying looks.

  Exhausted didn’t begin to describe the toll her body had taken, and she tried to hide it from the world—from herself—mostly because the medical center’s OB-GYN said the baby was fine, and that was all that mattered. And if the baby was okay, everyone could stop bothering her.

  The door pushed open, and Nicola turned to see a man she didn’t know.

  “Hello, sorry to interrupt. Don’t mind me. I’m upgrading the software on a monitor.”

  Nic smiled. “Sure.” It wasn’t the first time that someone had tromped into Cash’s room. The guy was in uniform but wasn’t medical personnel, and he looked miserable. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure.” He squinted. “Do I know you?”

  She shook her head. Even on a secure base, she was paranoid. Having a history in witness protection, the CIA, and Titan would do that to a girl. “I don’t think so.”

  His eyes flashed to where names were normally listed on the wall for patients, but because of the classified relationship that Titan had with Landstahl, Cash Garrison was simply listed as “Patient, Room 6806.”

  After an awkward pause, the tech tinkered with a machine. It beeped a few times as he reset it, then he turned, staring. They were about the same age, and he searched her face as though he had a question.

  “Do you need something else?”

  “No, ma’am.” He looked away, clearing the inquisitive expression from his face, and scurried out the door.

  Nicola’s gaze narrowed on the empty space where he had been. She was always on red alert. Was it safe to bring a baby into their world? Sure. Mia and Colby had kids. Sugar and Jared. Brock and Sarah. They had intense safety-and-security protocols, some of which bordered on paranoia, but Nicola appreciated them. She settled down, telling her hormones to take it easy. No sense in riling herself up when she couldn’t do jack about it.

  Sugar’s heels clicked down the hall, announcing her arrival before she walked in. Nicola wiped under her eyes, knowing full well that she couldn’t swipe away dark circles and bags. She shifted from her chair by Cash’s bedside as Sugar walked in.

  Her dark eyes looked from Cash, in the same state he’d been in for two days, to Nicola, in the same place Sugar had left her. “You look like crap.”

  “Jeez, sunshine. Thanks for coming over.”

  Sugar extended the coffee cup in her hand. “Decaf tea.”

  Nic nodded. “Thanks.”

  “You need to eat.”

  “I did.”

  “When?” Sugar snapped the word in what was probably meant to be uber-caring but to the outside world likely looked scary-slash-bitchy.

  Well… good question.

  “That took way too long to answer.” A couple click-clacks of her super-high-heeled boots, and Sugar was next to Cash, inspecting him as though she could see something the doctors couldn’t. “He’s not going to wake up in the next fifteen minutes. You need to eat.”

  “I have breakfast bars.”

  “You need to eat, Nic.”

  “I’m not leaving him.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Nicola.” Sugar tossed her bright-red-fingertipped hands in the air. “He’d kick my ass for letting you and baby just sit here, crunching on protein bars. If you don’t come with me, you’ll have an entire contingent of dudes to deal with.”

  Nicola blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “None of them know how to deal with a pregnant superspy. But what they do know is that if you don’t take care of yourself, they will force you to do it. For you and for him. For that little tater tot growing inside you.”

  She smiled. “I think it’s more the size of a blueberry right now.”

  Sugar grinned too. “I missed that part of the moms’ club. It was a guess.”

  Jared and Sugar’s daughter, Asal, was adopted, and Nicola wondered how deep Sugar’s maternal clock ran, but now wasn’t the time to ask. “I don’t want to leave him, Sugar.”

  “You’re scared. I get it.”

  She dropped her head. Being scared wasn’t something that any of them ever talked about. Fear was part of the job. They accepted it and moved forward. That was why they were excellent in their roles with Titan and their partners—Sugar, Mia, Sarah, and even Beth to a certain extent because she and Roman had something long-term happening. But there was another level of fear that they had to live with in addition to what they might encounter on
a job: what if the job was too hard? What if a spouse was hurt? What if they said good-bye to their spouses for the last time?

  Nicola’s throat tightened, and tears stung her eyes. How much more could she cry?

  “Nope. No more tears right now. Cash, man, I’m taking your woman for some hot grub in the cafeteria. Don’t die while we’re gone.”

  “Christ, Sugar,” boomed a voice from behind Nicola. Jared walked in. “Take it down a notch already.”

  “Hey.” Nicola lifted her chin to say hello.

  “Hey, Princess.” He pulled a chair and gathered Sugar onto one knee, where the ballsy, brash woman compliantly perched then eased. They were two harsh people, but when coupled, they were soft and in love, although with an I-can-kill-you edge.

  Her stomach growled. It was all the talk of food. She certainly was taking very good care of herself and the baby, eating lots of calories, protein, and carbohydrates—everything that their bodies needed. Nicola had even double-checked with the doctors that the stress wasn’t causing undue stress to the fetus, and they’d had her examined by an OB. Maybe she was hungry. But she didn’t want to leave Cash. It was that simple.

  “Nicola,” Jared said.

  She tore her attention away from Cash, not realizing that she’d been lost—again—in his face. Scratched and bruised, he rested quietly just as though he were sleeping the day away. “Yes.”

  “Go with Sugar. Get some grub. A change of scenery. It’s an order, Princess.”

  She dropped her head, not wanting to say no to Boss Man, but—

  “And before you fight me on this…”

  Nic lifted her eyes.

  “Roman’s bugging out of his fuckin’ mind. If nothing else, give him five minutes. Go talk to him.”

  She dropped her head and rubbed her temples. Roman always took care of her, and she’d forgotten to even have a conversation with him. “Yeah. Okay.”

  “With the exception of when he’s checked on you two, Roman hasn’t moved.” Sugar stood. “I’ll show you where he’s posted up. He’s pretty much just stood there, waiting for you.”

  Nic’s heart clutched. She had a good brother, a good man, a good team, and good people all around her. If Cash didn’t make it out of this, they’d still be okay. Her eyes burned, and a sear of pain ran down her throat.

  “Up and out of the room,” Sugar said. “You’re crying away all of your calories. I’m pretty sure you need those to build body parts.”

  Jared smacked her butt as he left. “Let me know if she gets out of line.”

  Sugar smirked. “You know I mean well.”

  Nicola smiled limply. “I’d worry if you were polite or appropriate.” Then she leaned over Cash and brushed his hair with her hands, letting her fingertips drift over his stubbled cheeks. “I’ll be back soon. I love you.” Nicola kissed his lips, lingering and scared to leave.

  “Nic, he’s going to be okay.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, kissed him one more time—hating how his lips didn’t feel as though he were just sleeping—and followed Sugar numbly out the door. Sugar hooked an arm around her shoulders, dragging her out of the room. As they walked down the hall, the normalcy with which people seemed to live their lives struck Nicola as absurd.

  “Food, then Roman.”

  Nicola leaned into Sugar, needing her hug more than she realized. “Good plan.”

  Five minutes later, Nic had a tray of bland food, but despite being hungry, she wanted none of it. Sugar was as bossy as Boss Man, though, so filling her tray with a couple of muffins and a bland chicken sandwich passed muster.

  Sugar bagged her food at the to-go counter, and with stern orders to eat, dropped Nicola off where Roman and Jared were poring over files in a meeting room. Jared cracked his knuckles as he stood, nodding to both of them, before leaving with his wife.

  “You doing okay?” Roman asked before wrapping her in a bear hug.

  “You’ve already asked me that.”

  He squeezed her before releasing. “You keep lying to me.”

  She laughed quietly. “Guess that’s what I do.”

  He closed his eyes and snagged her in another hug. “Nic.”

  Somewhere in that hug, she dropped the to-go bag, and then she lost it, shedding all the pent-up tears. So many times she’d lied to her brother: when they were teens and she should have told him that she was in love with his best friend, when she should have called him while she was in witness protection even though she wasn’t allowed, and when she’d let other people tell him he was going to be an uncle.

  Roman gave bear hugs. The good thing about a brother who was as broad and tall as the hospital they were in was that he could easily lift her up and relocate a heaving, sobbing, hysterical woman without a blink of effort.

  “Breathe, Nic.” He rifled through her bag of food and brought out a stack of napkins then offered one for her tears.

  “God. I’m such a freaking mess.”

  “You’re going through a lot.” His elbows were on his knees, and he leaned forward, brows pulled down as if he were trying to read her mind.

  “You’re going to be an uncle.”

  Roman leaned back an inch, a tiny smile on his face. “I know. Congratulations.”

  She sobbed.

  “Damn, those pregnancy hormones aren’t anything to mess with.”

  Nic reached out to smack his arm, but he grabbed her and hugged her again. “Seriously, Nic. Congrats. You guys are gonna make killer parents. Mom and Dad are gonna freak out, and everything is going to be fine.”

  “I have secrets all the time. There’s something wrong with me. I’m going to be an awful mommy.” She bawled. “I kept secrets from you back in the day. How’d that work out? Bad. Then from Cash? Same thing. And again from Cash? He doesn’t know. He. Doesn’t. Know!”

  “Take a breath. It’s not the same thing.”

  “I’m so screwed up.”

  “You’re not,” he said. “Why didn’t you tell him the second you knew?”

  She wiped her face. “Because I wanted to plan a surprise. Something special. When he was off job. Not with just a day off but, like, a couple weeks.”

  “See? You had a reason.”

  “A lot of good that did me.”

  She dropped her head. “He might die not knowing.”

  “He won’t. He’s going to live because of that pregnancy.”

  Surprise stopped the tears. “What?”

  “I told him.”

  “What?” Her eyes went wide. “When?”

  “Right after the attack, when he was first hit, I needed something to keep him here with us—even if he wasn’t waking up. So I told him.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I know that’s yours to tell him. But I…” Roman stopped and rubbed his face. “He needed to hear it. Even if he didn’t know he heard it.”

  Nicola launched into her brother’s arms. “Thank you.”

  “A lot of hugging today.”

  “You’re a good hugger.”

  “I know.”

  “Cocky too.”

  He laughed. “I know.”

  “I told him too.” She pulled back and grabbed the bag of food, suddenly finding the urge to eat a muffin. “I think it helps.”

  Roman nodded. “All the medicine in the world? That baby is what’s bringing our boy home.”

  “Yeah.”

  They sat in silence as she finished the muffin and gauged her need to puke. It wasn’t there. That was progress. “So… Beth.”

  Her brother’s eyebrows went up, and he smiled. “Beth.”

  “About damn time.”

  “Agree.” Roman nodded, saying all they needed to say. The tension between the two had been noticeable to the entire team, but neither Beth nor Roman had outwardly admitted any interest.

  Nicola was happy for them, but it only reminded her how much she needed Cash. “I’m going to go back to my husband. I need a nap.”

  Roman gathered up the papers that he and Jared had been
working on. “I’m out too.”

  “Take care of Beth, okay? She fights you because she needs you. When that last mental hang-up of hers is gone, she’s yours forever.”

  “I know that. When she clues in, what is supposed to happen will happen.”

  God, her brother was the right guy for Beth. “Right answer.”

  “Glad you think so.”

  “I love you, Roman.”

  “Love you too, kid. Go take care of our boy. And my—niece? Nephew?”

  “Too early still.” Nicola’s stomach fluttered as she wondered if Cash would want a boy or girl.

  “Alright. Either way, go.” Roman turned her out the door and sent her packing.

  A minute later, she was looking at Cash’s hospital bed. Nothing else mattered but her family. She dropped the bag, slipped off her shoes, and crawled in next to him, snuggling under the covers and hating every second he didn’t call her “sweet girl” and kiss her goodnight as she drifted to sleep. Memories of sleeping together under the stars on their first date, and how magical that was, replaced her worries about the stiff, silent man next to her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Billy Tway chewed the inside of his mouth, backing out of the door, trying not to trip over his feet as his mind raced. He somehow knew what he’d seen on the other side of that hospital room door was his ticket out of hell.

  “Hey, Twat Waffle,” a uniformed Army a-hole joked as he passed.

  “Tway,” Billy said, the response he’d given more often than any other in all his years in the military. Maybe more than “Yes, sir.” Everyone liked someone to pick on, and Billy had been the guy.

  “You missed a spot.” The jerk—from the back of his head, he looked to be an eighteen-year-old ground pounder—never slowed down.

  “I’m not the janitor!” No one respected him! Even the newbies. Billy couldn’t control it. Both hands went into overdrive, punching middle fingers into the air.

  The kid laughed. “Easy, broke dick.”

  But he never turned around. “What the fuck? What the fuck?” Billy wanted to charge and jump the man from behind but needed to concentrate on what he’d just seen in the hospital room. His mind was all over the place.

  Bouncing in place, his torn mind had problems deciding which direction to take. Go after the young one who needed to know what his last name really was, or follow up on the thought tickling the edge of his mind?