He’d been working hard all week to get the house ready for his husband to come home. He needed to be ready. Fast.
That started with airing the house out for nearly a full day because he’d left that damn burnt, blackened, soggy pizza in the kitchen sink when he left town, and it was a moldy, smelly science experiment by the time he got home.
He’d laughed about it, but he didn’t like thinking too hard about that day, or about that phone call from Parker and the late night, hours-long drive in the rain.
Honestly, he didn’t even remember the drive. That was kind of terrifying. Beckett had really thought Sky was going to die.
But now, just over a week later, there was a bedroom where his office used to be, a rented hospital bed was being delivered tomorrow along with a temporary aluminum ramp out front, and he’d put a cozy cat bed in front of the wood stove for Walter.
He’d also taken on a new client, been to court twice, and spent at least two hours a day with Sky at rehab. At least that was right in Middlebury and wasn’t yet more of a commute.
Beckett wasn’t sleeping, but that was okay. He had this. He’d figured it out.
He needed to not fall asleep in this chair waiting for Sky to be brought back from occupational therapy.
“Leave him, buddy. He’s fucking working too hard.”
“You ruining his life?” That was Kevin, Sky’s therapist, a mountain of a man that Sky adored, except when he was telling Sky no.
“Always. Ruining shit is my whole skill set.”
“’M ’wake.” He sat up, rubbing his face. “Do you feel occupationalized?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m totally ready to get a job, either serving fries or answering the phone.” That voice was dry as dust.
“Today we practiced getting out of this chair and into bed and then out of bed and into the chair. Very exciting stuff. Your man has abs of steel, he should do a video.” Kevin stopped the chair next to Sky’s bed.
“I want out of the chair. When do I start walking, man?” Sky sighed dramatically, blue eyes rolling. The swelling had faded, the bruises were more green and yellow than black and purple, and Sky was beginning to look familiar.
Kevin rolled his eyes. “You’re a giant pain in the ass, Sky. You’re not cleared for that.”
“So…clear me.”
“One of the genuine joys of my job is that I don’t get to make those decisions. You have to get someone who went to school a lot longer than I did but didn’t have nearly as much fun chasing ladies and smoking weed in law school to do that for you.”
Beck laughed, damn him.
“I’m watching and learning, Kev.”
“I know for a fact you weren’t chasing ladies in law school, Beck.” Sky shot him one of those smartassed glances that made him want to either kiss or kill the bastard.
“Nope. I was not. I was breaking ladies’ hearts, though. And I didn’t need to chase anyone.” He had been popular in law school. At most parties, he had practically held court and had his pick of guys when he wanted them.
And right after law school, he’d found himself a hot little rising star of a bull rider.
Kevin snorted. “Are you going to get in bed, or what, man? I don’t have all day to babysit you.”
“Fuck off, shithead.” Sky grinned at Kevin, the look crooked, and Beck could see the exhaustion around it. “I can manage.”
“Uh-huh. Go for it, but I’m not losing my job and leaving your skanky ass in the chair.”
Beckett got up. “I’ll help you.”
Kevin put a hand up. “Oh, no you don’t. Let the champ show you his new trick.”
Sky flipped Kevin off, but he grabbed the wheelchair with his casted hand, got the pulley with the other, and almost made it to the bed. Kevin was right there, easing Sky over without a single tease.
“There you go, man. Good job.”