Progressing with Storm - Granite County 5 http://www.bookstrand.com/progressing-with-storm
Storm opened his eyes to the white hell
of a hospital room and the heaven of a warm man in his arms. Or, in this case, one arm, as the other was
still bound in the hated sling.
He carefully moved his shoulder back and
forth. It was sore, but not too bad. Glancing down, Storm encountered the
lightest blue eyes he had ever seen. Thick black lashes outlined them and were
a stark contrast to the pale skin as smooth as cream
that covered Kris’s handsome face.
“Hi,” Storm whispered.
“Hi. Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah. I’m back to the land of the
living.” Storm wanted to taste those plump pink lips just inches away.
Kris must have seen the want on his face and backed away. Nervous fingers picked at
the bed sheet. “Corey asked me to come here to see how you were doing.”
“Who is Corey?” Storm couldn’t recall knowing anyone named Corey.
“You rescued Corey from the burning
house today,” Kris said.
“Oh, his name was Corey? Is he okay?”
Storm asked.
Kris nodded. “They want to keep him
overnight for observation.”
Storm loosened his hold on Kris. A
golden opportunity for escape had
presented itself. “Let’s go see him.”
Kris’s pretty eyes widened. “You want to
go see Corey?”
Storm frowned. He didn’t understand why Kris
wouldn’t want him to make sure that Corey was okay? Storm had risked his life to get the man out of that burning
building
“Is there a reason why I shouldn’t check on him?” he asked.
Kris shook his head so hard that Storm
thought he heard his teeth rattle together.
Storm smiled and sat up. “Let’s go visit
Corey. He might hate being here as much as I do.”
“He never seemed to have a problem with hospitals
before,” Kris commented
Storm had just taken
Kris’s hand to help him off the bed. Now he paused and asked, “Do you know
Corey well?”
“Yeah, for about a year.” Kris’s head was bent, and he rubbed his finger on a spot on
his lightweight pants.
Storm could see there
was more going on than Kris was saying. But it didn’t matter. Tugging on the
smaller man’s hand, he said, “I want to go and meet Corey under better
circumstances than I did earlier today.”
Kris slid off the bed, and Storm
estimated Kris’s slight frame was at least six inches shorter than his. Storm kept a hold of Kris’s hand and ignored
the slight tug to be free.
“Do you have to tell someone you’re leaving?”
Kris asked.
“They’re lucky I stayed this long. Come
on. I’m out of here.”
Storm walked through the curtain and
headed out of the emergency examining room. He didn’t look or speak to anyone.
In the past, if he acted like he owned
the place, everyone thought he did.
“Where are we going?” he asked, pausing
in the hall outside the door.
Kris pointed to the right. “Corey’s room
is at the end of the hall.”
Storm turned to the right and started in
the direction Kris had indicated. The farther Storm managed to get from the
doctors and nurses behind him, the more his gut eased.
Looking down, he squeezed Kris’s hand
and smiled. Kris didn’t smile back. Instead,
the smaller man seemed to withdraw.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Where did your accent go?” Kris asked
quietly.
“My accent?”
“Before when you were talking to me you
called me sugar and sounded like you came from Ireland,” Kris said.
Storm bent his elbow, bringing Kris
closer as they continued down the hall. “I’m told when I’ve had a few too many beers my grandfather’s accent
comes out. As a kid, I spent a lot of
time with my grandfather, who is from Ireland. I’m thinking the drugs they gave
me brought it out.” In one motion, Storm
had Kris pressed up against the wall. “Now do you want to tell me why you look
like we’re going before a firing squad?”
“No,” Kris answered, staring at the
middle of Storm’s chest.
“Look at me,” Storm ordered.
Unhappy light blue eyes met Storm’s
gaze.
“Does this have something to do with
Corey? Are you afraid of him?” Storm would
have no problem taking care of this Corey if he was
hurting Kris.
“No, I’ve never been afraid of Corey. It’s complicated.” Sadness and frustration
covered Kris’s face.
Storm knew what complicated meant. When
someone stated those words regarding
someone else it meant they were in some kind of relationship that, in the end, wasn’t
really working.
He didn’t see Kris as being a cheater.
Storm knew he pretty much had steamrolled
over Kris since they met. Yes, the man
could have told Storm he was in a relationship, but because Kris hadn’t, Storm
could only deduct things weren’t right
between him and Corey.
In the past, Storm had proved to be good
at sorting out complicated. He believed all relationships took work to keep
them healthy. But when one of the people in the relationship used the word
complicated, he found the odds of the couple making it went way down.
Selfishly he wanted to keep Kris for
himself. He’d liked waking up with the man in his arms. But he didn’t know what
the circumstances between Kris and Corey were. And the only way to find out
what was happening was to face it head-on.
Stepping away from Kris, he said, “Show
me which room is Corey’s.”
With their fingers still laced together,
Kris led Storm down the hall until they came to room #148. Storm watched Kris
take a deep breath before smiling weakly at him and pulling open the door.
* * * *
The slide of the door against the tile
floor woke Corey out of a light sleep. A nurse had come in a half-hour before
and taken the oxygen mask away. They told him he was doing well and he should be able to go home first
thing in the morning.
Relief eased the knot in Corey’s belly
when Kris walked into the room. He had been gone
over an hour, and a part of Corey feared
he wouldn’t bother coming back. Why should he after the way Corey had treated
him this last year? That relief was short-lived when a huge, half-naked man
followed Kris, and the two were holding hands.
“Kris, what’s going on?” he asked before
coughing to clear his scratchy throat.
“You asked me to check on Storm. He
decided he wanted to check on you too,” Kris answered.
Corey heard Kris talking, but he didn’t
understand a word he said. He was too busy taking in the incredible feast of
the amazing man standing before him. The guy was gigantic. Corey estimated he
was at least six feet five. And the muscles covered with tattoos had Corey
drooling.
His gaze locked on the sling the man was
wearing. It was a stark reminder that this
man had risked his life saving him.
Something inside Corey melted until he
saw Kris and his hero were still holding hands.
Frowning, he demanded, “Kris, why are
you holding this guy’s hand?”
“Actually
he’s holding mine,” Kris answered.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I don’t know,” Kris responded. “Storm
just does stuff. He doesn’t make me try and figure out what he wants.” By now,
Kris’s tone had escalated until he was almost shouting.
Corey blinked. In all their time
together, Kris had never yelled at him. Corey’s heart cracked a little.
“You were only gone an hour. I know you’d
never met this guy before. This is crazy.”
Corey tried to reason with Kris. Was he still asleep and having some kind of weird dream?
“Look,” Storm said, breaking into the
conversation, “when Kris found me, I was high on the drugs the doctors gave me.
As soon as they wore off, Kris told me that you had sent him to check on me.
That was nice of you.”
Storm let go of Kris’s hand. Corey
gritted his teeth together when Storm put his arm around Kris’s shoulders,
getting his boyfriend’s attention.
“I see the nurses haven’t bothered to
clean Corey up. They usually have a small plastic container in the bathroom
that they use to give patients sponge baths. Why don’t you go and see if you
can find one? There should be some soap
lying around in there too. Then you can bring it out here, and we can take care
of Corey.”
“He can’t,” Corey blurted out.
Kris gave him the stink eye. “I’m
getting stronger all the time. I can do it.”
Corey saw Storm look Kris over and pull
him closer to his body.
“What’s going on? Are you injured?”
Storm’s blue eyes were hard as stone
when he looked over at Corey. “Maybe you should tell me if Kris is injured.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Corey objected.
“He was attacked last month by a boyfriend. He’s still recovering.”
“Did you have to throw that in my face,
Corey? You were the one who’d left again. Every time you leave I know you find
someone else. I never did, never. Except, for once, someone actually thought I was enough for them. Me, a
lowly flower shop owner, was actually
enough.” Kris sniffed and rubbed his nose. “Of course he turned out to be a madman obsessed with someone else and was only
using me. So I guess you were right all along. I’m not exciting enough for
someone to stay with long term.”
“Holy fuck, you’re the one Snake attacked,”
Storm exclaimed.
Corey ignored the big man. “Kris, please
stop it. How many times do I have to tell you that I love you before you will believe me?” he asked. “I
won’t leave again. We’ll make it work this time.”
“Why bother?” Kris snapped.
“Enough you two,” Storm broke in. “Kris,
do you need to sit down?”
“No, I’m going to go and find that soap
and water and wash Corey’s face like you said.”
Corey was
entranced. He had never seen Kris stick his bottom lip out in a huge pout before. Combine that with the determined
look on his face and Corey fell even more in love with the man.
“All right, you see if you can find the stuff, and I’ll help you carry it in here,”
Storm said.
“Okay,” Kris agreed.
Kris’s gaze almost sliced Corey in half
with its sharpness before he headed to the bathroom. Corey noted that Kris’s
posture was straight and his steps were
crisp. That was good. It meant he wasn’t hurting or tired, at least physically.
“We haven’t formally met yet. So, hi, I’m Storm Donahue.” Storm held out his hand.
Corey looked at the hand in front of him
before lifting his gaze and laughing. “I’m Corey Casey. Maybe shaking hands
isn’t a good idea.” Corey lifted his bandaged hand up.
Stormed laughed, and Corey’s heart
stuttered. The man was gorgeous.
“You’re right. We’ll have to postpone hand
shaking until yours are healed,” Storm
said. “So how bad are your injuries?”
“My hands are ripped up, and I have a
couple of staples in my head. That’s about it except for smoke inhalation and a
few bruises,” Corey said. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Are you after my boyfriend?”
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