“Making sure you fly home in style,” I joke, holding up a pink hoodie and her favorite pair of jeans. “How about these?”

“Frumpy, wrinkled, and disheveled—just the look I’m striving for,” she groans, her voice still a bit raspy and hoarse.

“I think warm and comfortable is more like it.” I place them on the side of the bed and help her sit up.

The straps of the hospital gown are undone in the back, exposing the ridges of her spine. I hold my breath, trying not to notice how thin she is. After three days of a strictly intravenous diet, she can definitely use some meat on her bones. I’ve never seen her this skinny, and I don’t like it. I wish the doctor would allow her some extra time in the hospital in order to regain her strength, but there’s nothing more she can do. The vitals for Ivy and the baby have returned to normal. Apparently there’s no reason to keep them here, even if I disagree.

I debated whether or not to extend Ivy’s stay at the hotel until she was back on her feet. A cross-country flight isn’t exactly the best thing for her right now, but she insisted that she wanted to go home. She promised to sleep on the plane and allow me to get a wheelchair for her at the airport. She’d rather recuperate in our bed with Shep at her side, not tossing and turning in some strange hotel room when she’d feel more comfortable at home.

But I have a sneaking suspicion she’s been listening to the conversations I’ve been having with my dad, pretending to be asleep. She knows how hard it is to run a business on the other side of the country and that I need to get back to the garden center. Things are piling up that require my attention. Checks need to be signed. Bills need to be paid. Deliveries need to be sorted. Stuff I can’t do via email or over the phone.

But I couldn’t care less about any of it. She’s my main concern. Her health and that of our baby are my top priorities. Nothing comes before them—nothing. Everything else can wait.

I slide the hospital gown off of her shoulders and she trembles.

“Are you cold?” I ask, worried. “Quick, put this on.” I slip her arms into the sleeves of the hoodie before moving around the bed to zip it up. I try not to look at her erect nipples as my fingers move up the track from her waist to her chin. It seems like forever since I’ve seen her naked, and I try to ignore the fact that having my hands so close to her bare skin has me straining against my jeans.

“Eric, you forgot my bra,” she teases, sliding her hand on top of mine.

“You’ll be more comfortable without it.” I’m being totally serious. It’s going to be a long flight and she’ll feel better without having an underwire digging in to her.

“Oh, so you’d rather leave it in my suitcase than try and take it off in the airplane restroom?” She gives me an impish grin, unfastening the top button of my shirt. But this isn’t the time or the place to fool around. She’s still wearing a hospital bracelet around her wrist for crying out loud. Her body isn’t ready for me yet. I need to get her home and fatten her up before I allow myself to take her again. She’s going to have to wait whether she likes it or not.

“Forget it, Ivy. We’re not joining the Mile High Club anytime soon. I just want to get you home in one piece.” I brush my lips lightly against hers to help soften the blow. I never thought in my wildest dreams I’d have to reject her advances, but it’s for her own good.

Yet she’s not going to give up without a fight as she grabs the back of my neck, pulling me in as she deepens our kiss. I resist, trying to keep my mouth closed as she plays with my bottom lip with her tongue. Not getting anywhere, she wraps her legs around my waist, but I break away.

“Ivy, stop. You heard what the doctor said. We can’t do this right now.” I disentangle her ankles from behind my back. She’s wide open before me and I try not to look. Instead, I place the hospital gown over her lap to cover her. “C’mon, I have to finish getting you dressed.”

“So we’re really not going to have sex until the baby is born?” She pouts, blowing the doctor’s recommendation way out of proportion.

I slide one foot into her underwear and then the other before glancing up at her. “You know that’s not what the doctor said.” I gather Ivy into my arms, gently placing her feet on the floor as I pull the elastic waistband over her hips, letting my fingers linger there.

“Well, she might as well have,” Ivy grumbles as I grab hold of her waist to position her back on the bed.

“She said we had to wait a week to make sure that the bleeding has stopped. That’s all.” I comfort her before rolling up the leg of her jeans. “There’s a lot I can do to you in the meantime. You just have to be patient.”

“Patient? I haven’t touched you in days. How much longer do you expect me to wait?” Her bloodshot eyes are lined with dark circles. She’s been through hell since she left my side. I don’t want to deny her, especially when she’s not feeling well. Maybe I can give her a little concession to tide her over.

“Be a good girl and help me get your jeans on and then we’ll do…something,” I whisper huskily against her ear.

She gives me a radiant smile and flings her arms around my neck as I help her stand. Bending down, I slip my fingers through the belt loops of her jeans and yank them over her bottom. Deftly, I make quick work of the button fly before meeting her eyes.

“We have to do this fast,” I warn before sliding my hands over her ass. “And I want you sitting down. There’s no need to overexert yourself.” Lifting her up, she grabs fistfuls of my shirt as I set her on the edge of the bed.

Stepping away from her, I reach for my belt, swiftly unbuckling it. I can’t afford to have anyone walk in. Holding up a finger for her to wait, I march toward the door and lock it. At least it’ll buy us a couple of valuable seconds if someone knocks. I don’t even know how I’d begin to explain what we’re doing if someone walks in except to admit that I’m a whipped man. It’s impossible for me to say no to this woman, but I don’t think anyone else would buy my feeble excuse.

“Remember, this isn’t what you think it is.” I don’t want to encourage her as I return to stand in front of the bed, quickly lowering my zipper and moving the flap of my boxers to the side. I instantly spring forth and she reaches out to grab me. “Fuck,” I mutter, biting my lip as she squeezes her hand up and down my length.

“Does that feel good, baby?” she whispers suggestively as I grip the sides of the bed and my knees start to weaken.

The last thing I intended was for her to give me a hand job from her hospital bed. My breathing gets erratic as I try to pry her fingers off me. “Ivy, it feels amazing, but we can’t…” I jerk as she pushes my wrist away, fighting to remain in control.

“Eric, let me take care of you. You’re so close.” She increases her motion, knowing exactly how I like it.

“Ivy, please…” I pant in desperation. “I’m going to come all over you. You have to stop…”

Sighing, she lets go and I somehow stumble into the bathroom. All it takes is a few more tugs and I’m there. My heart skips a beat when I hear someone banging outside the room. Getting to her feet, Ivy quickly shuts the bathroom door before peering out into the hallway.

“It’s just Will,” she calls out, and I hear the rise and fall of their voices as I try to pull myself together.

That could’ve been a freaking disaster. I don’t like refusing Ivy anything, especially when it comes to sex, but we can’t keep on being so reckless. It’s too risky. My face reddens in embarrassment as I look at myself in the mirror. I can’t get caught with pants around my ankles just because Ivy wants them off. I have to learn how to put my foot down.

I turn off the water in the sink, blotting my hands with a paper towel. The orange liquid soap in the dispenser is industrial strength. I use it to wipe off the toilet seat as best I can. I’d be mortified if a maintenance worker had to clean up my mess. It’s a hospital room, not a sperm bank.