Loving Him (Him Series Book 1)

Five

"Lucy, are you really a clown?"

The question came from a five-year-old girl named Anna, who'd just had her appendix taken out and was recovering from the surgery.

"Don't you think I look like a clown?" I asked, lifting the sides of my polka-dotted skirt and holding the edges out. Slowly, I twirled letting her examine my clown attire—purple suspenders, white puffy sleeves, and hot pink hair.

Anna giggled. "You look like Sarena Sparkle! Her eyes are glittery like yours."

"You're right. Sarena inspired me."

Frowning, Anna asked, "What does i-ispired mean?"

"It means that she gave me a super-fantastic idea. But since it's important to be your own person, I didn't want to copy Sarena exactly so the hot pink ponytail and colorful outfit are my own."

"That makes her unique," Anna's mother, Mary, added smiling appreciatively at me. "Thank you for what you've done for my daughter."

"I'm happy to help. Anna is an awesome young lady."

"What's u-neek?" asked Anna.

"It means special, like Lucy," Mary told her daughter, and then she hugged me. I felt as if happiness was bubbling inside me like soda over the top of a shaken can.

I'd graduated from college recently and had quickly gotten a job with the VNT, the visiting nurses team, but I still worked a few days a week with Izabelle.

Before I left I made a mermaid balloon for Anna and promised to see her before she checked out. Glancing at my watch, I debated going to see Kyle. I knew he usually took a nap after therapy, but it was later than I normally visited.

The need to see him overrode my reservations, and I made my way to the orthopedic wing, where Kyle had a private room. Peeking inside, I saw him sleeping and breathed a sigh of relief.

Quietly, I walked into the room and drank in the sight of him, categorizing every detail for later when I could replay them in mind. I wanted to touch him just to be sure he was real.

Gone was the cute boy from high school. Kyle Huxely was a grown man, and he made my heart beat quicker even in a hospital bed. Had it only been desire I felt, it would have scared me less but my feelings for Kyle were deeper. I was buzzing just to share the same space as him.

His dark hair had grown out a lot from the buzz cut he'd worn when he had first been brought in, and a five o'clock shadow kissed his jaw. It made him look like one of those brooding models with smoldering eyes and a woman hanging on each arm. I didn't like the image.

Dressed in a gray t-shirt with black sweats that were cut at the knee because his lower left leg was encircled in what was called a Ilizarov apparatus, a device used to treat multiple tibia and fibula breaks, he looked like a superhero with a bionic leg. I wondered if he was in pain.

Before I realized my intent, I reached out to touch his cheek. My gaze traveled back to his face, and my eyes locked with his. Startled, I gasped and dropped my arm.

When I managed to speak the words were rusty. "You're awake." Heat crept up my neck to be caught staring. "I'm sorry."

He cocked a brow. "I'm sure you are, but I thought it was time we talked."

His rough velvet voice was deeper, more tantalizing than I remembered. Our gazes crashed. Lost in the depths of his stormy blue gaze, I could not look away. "I-I meant I was sorry I woke you."

"You didn't. I knew you wouldn't stay if you thought I was awake."

"I didn't want to disturb you." The excuse was weak.