CHAPTER SIX

. . . . .
. . . .

It was three in the afternoon when Juliet got back to the hospital, and she'd accomplished all but a few of her day's goals. She had been to many places and talked to many people and she was exhausted and wired. It had been far too long since she'd slept—at least Carlton had the benefit of a drug-induced rest—and she'd have to stop her forward motion soon.

But not just yet.

She marched into Carlton's hospital room without knocking.

He was in the process of getting dressed to leave. He had on a pair of dark blue sweatpants, had just pulled off his hospital gown, and next to him on the bed was a matching blue sweatshirt. There was a bandage stuck to the side of his head, his tousled black and silver hair falling partly over it. He had a bruised cheek, bruises on his torso, and cuts to his jaw.

Battered but gorgeous; this was her man.

Juliet felt anger and compassion for his pain, but at the same time, it wasn't the most important item on her radar, not right now. She went straight to him, focused only on his crystal-blue eyes, hating how that gaze immediately became guarded, and while he held the gown in one hand, frozen with indecision or surprise, she simply wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself to his bare chest.

The rough fur against her cheek did nothing to conceal his rapid heart rate, and the warmth of his skin under her hands on his back only increased as she held him tighter and tighter.

"O'Hara," he managed, almost strangled.

"Shut up."

After a few moments he gave in, let go of the gown and let his arms slide around her too.

Then, finally, she felt fully reconnected to him. This morning's interruption had been incredibly painful but their lack of communication was ending now, starting with this very necessary embrace.

His lean body thrummed with life, his heart steadying gradually, and she felt him calming down. She was calming as well, but she wasn't going to let go of him any time soon. In fact, she planned to be even closer to him as soon as possible, and in her most delicious fantasies, there wouldn't be any clothing involved at all.

Hoping no one came along to intrude—not that she cared how it looked for her to be secure in the arms of her shirtless partner—she wished this moment could go on forever.

Carlton spoke again, his breath ruffling her hair. "Any chance I can finish getting dressed?"

"No." She squeezed him harder, and he subsided until she released him and stepped back.

He was flushed, and she knew she was too. "I… uh…"

"I expected you to try to discharge yourself, so I asked them to give me a heads-up. I talked to your doctor about whether I should hold you here at gunpoint and he said that while he'd prefer you to remain overnight, you'll be all right if you take it very very easy and if someone stays with you. So I'm here to take you home, and yes, I will be staying with you. Shut up."

Carlton's mouth closed, and he pulled the sweatshirt on over his head in silence.

"We have a lot to talk about, Carlton Lassiter. A lot. By which I mean, you have a lot of listening to do." She smiled despite the sternness of her words. "Starting with, you are not leaving Santa Barbara or the SBPD. Let's get your shoes on. I think they tossed your socks. How's your leg?"

"Hurts." He limped over to the chair, and she brought him the shoes, and it was almost comical how wide his blue eyes got when she knelt to help him put them on.

He might even have twitched when she grasped his bare ankle, probably because she stroked his foot for a moment before sliding the shoe on.

Yes, she was being wicked. She'd make it up to him later.

The nurse came in with the obligatory wheelchair and was relieved to see Juliet, which meant Carlton had probably been a pain in the ass about wanting to leave.

He wanted to be a pain in the ass now; she could see it in his mutinous expression, but he sat in the chair and didn't even blink when she reached out and ran her fingers through his soft tousled hair.

Maybe he was merely frozen with shock. She'd find out later… and melt him if necessary.

Remaining silent all the way down the hall, into the elevator, and across the lobby, he spoke only when it was time to get out of the chair and into the Crown Vic which the Chief had allowed Juliet to take home tonight. Carlton's car was still off-limits and her Bug wasn't the best fit for this long-legged injured man.

What he said was to the nurse, a brief thanks.

However, once Juliet was in the car beside him he said, "You don't have to stay. I'm going straight to bed."

"Shut up."

"O'Hara—"

"It's Juliet, and shut up. We have a stop to make on the way."

"They already filled my pain meds prescription."

"I know. And I've been by your place to make sure there's food. We're going to the jail."

"The jail? Why?"

"Rico Mengual asked to see you." She glanced over to see his surprised expression. "He's being transferred tonight, away from Padilla's crew. The DA wants him safe until the trial."

He nodded. "You went to my place?"

"Emergency key, remember?" She gave him another glance. "You don't like that I went there?"

Carlton looked out the window. "I don't mind. I'm just… you're too damned nice, O…Juliet."

"O'Juliet," she said with a laugh. "Now that I like."

A grudging smile curved his lean face. "I'm not calling you Juliet at work."

"Didn't ask you to, partner."

He looked full at her, the blue of those brilliant eyes a mix of puzzlement, unsettledness and yet… somehow, trust. She hoped it was trust, after all this time.

At the entrance to the jail she parked the car and said, "Sit there a minute while I get the cane out of the trunk."

"What cane?" he protested.

"The cane I put there a little while ago," she said with exasperation as she slammed the door.

It had been in the lost-and-found at the station, and when she carried it to the passenger side he already had the door open and was trying to get out.

Juliet put one hand on his chest and pushed him back into his seat, dropping to one knee in the shelter of the open door. "Before we go in, you need to listen."

Carlton's eyes narrowed in anticipation of a lecture about behaving or being nice or some-such; she knew that look very well.

Taking a breath, she jumped in. "Last night, before you texted me, I was thinking about you. I've been thinking about you a lot, for quite a while. I wasn't willing to put into words the exact nature of what I was thinking, because exact words sometimes make people feel they have to do something about those words, and I didn't know what to do about them." She put her hand on the car, looking away for just a moment from the intense blue stare of her man. "I love you, Carlton. I think I've loved you for a long time."

His eyes widened again but she wasn't finished.

"I thought, even if you were interested, that you'd resist it or try to talk me out of it, or talk yourself out of it. I thought you were still messed up by what happened with Lucinda Barry and wouldn't want to risk our partnership. I thought a lot of things but mostly I just… love you."

He let out a long, long, sigh, and she put her hand on his now, where it rested trembling on his leg.

"I've come to understand you're my other half, you see? So you can't quit your job and you can't leave town, because you'll cut me in two. You remember your question from earlier? When you asked what I was going to do about your feelings for me?" She smiled at him, never more sure of anything. "The answer is I'm going to cherish them, the way I cherish you."

Carlton was speechless, but everything was in those beautiful eyes.

Juliet stood up. "Now let's go see Rico, and later when you're not quite so gobsmacked, you can tell me what you're going to do about my feelings."

He didn't have a chance to speak anyway, because a passing officer saw him trying to get out of the car and came to help—poor Carlton didn't even have the presence of mind to snap at him—and then accompanied them to inside to facilitate their visit with Rico.

Beside her, he was… well, he was doing that thrumming thing again. She could feel it where she stood: he was on fire with questions, with a need to know and understand and figure things out. As they waited for Rico—never alone—she glanced at him from time to time and could see he was really struggling to keep himself locked down.

Rico Mengual was led into the room and allowed to sit with them at a metal table. He'd been cleaned up and dressed in the orange uniform of his brethren prisoners and looked fairly chipper.

"Thanks for coming. I appreciate it." He gestured toward Carlton's leg. "How are you?"

"I'll be all right."

"Sorry. That's what I wanted to tell you. Sorry, and thanks."

Juliet looked between the two men, imagining Rico forcing Carlton into the trunk at gunpoint, imagining them fighting and yet somehow reaching some sort of compromise. It wasn't easy. It wasn't pleasant. Rico had bruises too, and she was sure the fight was brutal even before the jagged stick made its appearance.

A chill overtook her briefly: what if Rico had stabbed him elsewhere… what if he'd used the Colt?

Stop it. You still have Carlton and this is your beginning.

"I got to talk to Elena and Tomasito earlier." Rico smiled at Juliet. "Gracias for that."

Carlton looked at her, and she knew he was pleased she'd made it possible for the conversation to take place.

"How'd it go?"

"She called me an imbecíl and then Tomasito told me he loved his Tio Rico so I'm good." He beamed. "That boy is like my own. Elena's gonna move them up to San Jose." Focusing on Carlton again, he added, "You're proof of God, man."

His eyebrows shot up. "Come again?"

"Why else you think you got carjacked?"

Carlton was flummoxed. "You seriously think God used me to help you steal a car so you could go kill your cousin?"

"Nah, man," Rico said with a laugh. "I think he knew I was about to do something totally stupid so he sent you in to stop me."

Juliet couldn't help but smile at that. "Carlton the angel?"

He gave her one of those don't-you-start looks—the kind that turned his eyes a deeper delectable blue—and turned back to Rico. "Why were you so pushy about—" he hesitated. "About me? My… personal life? Why was that so damned important?"

Hmm, she'd have to follow up on that later.

Rico grinned. "I fix stuff for a living, but I've always liked to know what makes people tick too, so I've been taking night classes in psychology. And there was something about you, Lassiter. I don't know what, but I could tell you were… complicated."

The look on Carlton's face was one Juliet would never forget, and never stop finding vastly amusing. It was outrage, betrayal, exasperation.

"Rico," she intervened before Carlton said something rude, "do you remember what I told you this morning? The thing Carlton didn't know yet?"

He smiled. "Yeah."

"Would you tell him what I said?"

The smile turned into a smirk. "You sure?"

"Very sure." Never more.

Rico stuck his hand out to Carlton and held it there until Carlton, puzzled, shook it. "Congratulations, amigo. You're going to be a husband."

Carlton jerked his hand back. "What?"

"Well, that's what she said. She said you didn't know it but you were going to marry her." He was laughing now, as pleased as Juliet was herself.

Carlton's so-blue eyes were beyond shocked: he looked between the two of them and then focused directly on Juliet, and she felt herself flushing at the undisguised heat in that gaze.

Rico said suddenly, "Hey, maybe this means I'm your guardian angel."

"How the hell do you figure that?" Carlton asked, tearing his attention from Juliet.

"If I hadn't carjacked you, you never would have told her how you felt. So just like I needed you to stop me from being an idiota, you needed me to put you two together."

Her man growled, "Who says we're together?"

Rico was totally unfazed. "Dude, she just said you're marrying her. You sure I didn't give you a concussion?"

"Carlton," Juliet said, patting him on the arm soothingly. "Don't hurt him. He's already in jail, and besides, there's witnesses."

Carlton rubbed his temples and sighed. "This… day."

Time to go, she thought, and definitely time for them to be alone. She stood up, nodding at Rico.

When Carlton stood, and as the officer was approaching to escort Rico back to his cell, he said, "Wait." Then he took a breath. "Thanks… for choosing me to carjack."

Rico's grin was broad, and Juliet didn't even try to conceal her chuckle. "Thanks for letting me stab you in the leg."

"Yeah, no do-overs on that one. Just be on your best behavior," Carlton advised. "Plead guilty, and get home to Tomasito as soon as you can."

"I will, Detective. You know I will." He pointed at Juliet. "You be good to her."

"As if I wouldn't," Carlton scoffed, but without real annoyance.

"And you be good to him," Rico added, looking quite stern. "This hombre is the real deal."

"I know." She looked up at Carlton, who was so tired and needed to rest even more than she did: the guy'd been beaten up, stabbed, operated on and completely gobsmacked over a period of eighteen hours and yet still stood there looking as if he'd go on another eighteen if the right person asked him to.

…and who, by the unexpectedly calm-sea blue of his eyes, was looking at her as if she was the right person.

Time to get him home.

He managed to make it out to the car without saying a word, but once inside he sort of lost it.

"How can you be sure about me?"

"How can you be sure about me?" she shot back.

"Because you're… you're perfect, Juliet, and I'm not. You really told Rico you were going to marry me?" He was fundamentally astonished.

"Well, technically I told him you were going to marry me, but yes, the end result's the same."

She started the engine but he clamped one firm hand on her wrist to stop her from doing more. "We've never even kissed! The closest we've been is earlier when you hugged me while my shirt was off!"

Juliet eyed him. "We'll take care of the kissing soon enough, honey, and not long after that, you can hug me while my shirt's off."

He let go of her abruptly, shocked, and not for one moment did she miss the flare of desire in those oh-so-expressive eyes. "Dammit," he breathed.

She agreed, and leaned toward him to find out how good it could be.

Boy, did she find out.

Carlton's mouth was as expressive as his eyes, and promised that every recent fantasy she'd had about him was going to pale in comparison to the real thing. He kissed her as if he revered her and wanted to strip her bare in the same moment, and pulled her closer to him across the seat, forgetting where they were, which was the jail parking lot.

"Oh my God," she whispered, shaky fingers to her lips when he let her go and fell back against his seat.

"Drive."

She drove.

He didn't touch her again.

She put the siren on.

At his condo building he didn't protest once about having to use the cane, which he really did need, and they leaned against each other in the elevator, just looking at each other, searching each other out.

He let her unlock the door but only went as far as his dining table.

"Are you really…" He hesitated. "Are you really mine?"

Juliet set the keys on the table and took off her jacket. "Yes."

"But why?"

The tone was plaintive, wondering and confused, and she loved him for it.

"I told you already. You're my other half."

"Juliet…"

"Not O'Juliet?" she teased.

His gaze darkened dangerously. "Don't think because I'm wounded I can't still take you down, woman."

"I'm hoping you will." She moved closer and Carlton immediately enveloped her in a kiss the likes of which left her feeling as if there was abso-freaking-lutely nothing else worth doing.

His arms wrapped around her and his heat was sizzling; she wasn't sure whose heart was pounding more but she knew they needed to lie down.

She even knew they should both probably just sleep.

Separating herself from him with huge difficulty, she caught her breath and asked if he needed a pain pill or a glass of water or anything else.

"Just you," he whispered, and held out his hand.

She took it, and they started slowly down the hall. "You really should rest."

"So should you."

"We'll rest, then." Just inside the doorway she stopped and eased him out of his sweatshirt, stroking his warm furred chest and loving how he trembled under her touch. Then, to keep her promise, she pulled off her own shirt.

"Oh God… may I?" he asked in a voice so husky it awakened every lust-oriented hormone she had, and when she nodded, he unhooked her bra and removed it.

Caught up against his body this time, she felt herself melting into a sweet puddle of desire, and the kiss was… oh, beyond mere words; certainly she couldn't think coherently. He cupped her face and looked down at her, and what she saw in his blue eyes was love and desire and a fierce need and a promise to protect and trust and… everything. Just damned everything.

They moved to the bed and lay down together, face to face, wrapped close and warm.

"You really, really, do need to rest," she repeated, but didn't stop his hand from moving between them to caress her breast. Oh, those nimble fingers, trailing across her skin.

"I know." He kissed her anyway, moving his lips along her throat and across her shoulders. "But you're here."

"I'm going to be here when you wake up, Carlton." She nudged his jaw so he'd look at her again. "I didn't just start loving you last night when you scared the hell out of me. Eye wall you."

For a moment he frowned, translating that, then gave her a slow and undeniably delighted smile. "Eye wall you too. Do you know what an umeboshi is?"

"Um, no?"

"Hmmm… neither did Ivana," he said, and sounded drowsy. "Maybe a little nap would do us both good."

"You know you're going to explain Ivana when you wake up, right?"

"Mmm-hmmm." His hands moved languidly on her back. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know, my love."

Juliet, before she fell asleep in his arms, was happy just to know she was his love.

. . . . . .

. . . . .

. . . .

E N D

. . . .

. . . . .

. . . . . .

[A big thanks for reading to the small but enthusiastic group of Lassieteers who still lurk in psych-land. Thanks also to pothangfanfic for nudging me to take this little texting-story idea and run with it. Y'all go read her stories now.]