Confetti Hearts (Confetti Hitched, #1)(72)

It hurts, and Lachlan puts a gentle hand on my back. “It’s okay, darling,” he says calmly, and I cling to that note in his voice like a lifeline. “It’s okay,” he says again as I heave in a breath. “Here, move around, Joe.”

Helping me straighten, he then turns the chair around with an urgent flick of his wrist. He pushes me onto the seat, so I’m straddling it with the chair back to my front. “Lean over that,” he orders. “Arms over the back of the chair, chin on your hands. Okay?”

I nod, gasping for breath, and he pushes my hair back. “Good boy,” he says affectionately. “Look ahead and breathe.”

“Can’t b-breathe,” I force out, holding my chest.

“That’s the panic, sweetheart. You can breathe. Take a breath in and stare ahead. Keep that chin on your hands. Erica will be back any second and then you can have your inhaler. That’ll be good, won’t it? It’s going to be fine. I promise you, love.”

He carries on talking as I heave for breath while spots dance in front of my eyes. I fervently hope I’m not going to pass out in front of him. I cling to his voice—not understanding most of what he’s saying—but the steadiness of his tone is like a lifeline. He breaks off at the sound of running footsteps. Erica returns, panting and holding the inhaler.

“Thank god,” Lachlan says fervently, taking it from her.

“Okay, deep puff and hold it, Joe,” he says, holding the inhaler to my mouth and supporting my face.

I do as he says, feeling the cool jet of scented air go into my lungs and beginning to loosen the tightness in my chest.

Lachlan hovers over me, stroking my hair back, his fingers cool on my hot cheeks. He and Erica look anxiously at me as I take another shot, feeling calmness return slowly. My chest is sore as fuck and I still feel breathless, but that horrible, panicked gasping for air has gone.

“Shit,” I say in a croaky voice.

Lachlan laughs. “Concise as usual.”

“Sorry,” I say.

“Don’t be fucking stupid.” His tone is affectionate. He straightens up, his hand leaving my face, and I’m already missing it.

“Thank you.” I grab his hand, and he leans down and kisses my forehead.

“Any time, but let’s not do it again soon. I don’t think my heart can take it.” He smiles down at me. “I’ll grab my stuff and then we’re going in and you are going for a lie down on the bed. No arguments,” he says as I open my mouth.

He moves away to grab his coat and jumper and put the axe away.

Erica leans close. “Are you really okay?”

I nod. “Absolutely fine. Completely well,” I croak.

She tuts disapprovingly. “I’m awfully glad you’re better at organising weddings than your own health.”

She pats me on the head and wanders away. “When did you get so sarcastic?” I shout after her.

“It’s marriage,” she says, turning back. “It’s a tremendous relief to set it free.”

“Yes, I saw a similar effect in you, Joe,” Lachlan observes, coming up next to me.

“I have always been sarcastic,” I affirm.

He pats my head. “One of your main attractions.”

“You’re a very odd man. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“Yes, you. At least five times a day.” I blink as he bends and kisses my cheek. His lips are warm, and I only just resist the urge to cup his face when he pulls back. “I like that, though,” he observes. “Keeps me on my toes.”





Chapter

Sixteen





Joe



Once inside, Lachlan strips off our coats and throws them on a chair in the foyer.

“I’m embarrassed by how wobbly my legs are,” I say, as he guides me up the stairs. I falter and he shoves his hand under my arm to keep me from tumbling.

“Well, I do have to say I’m severely disappointed you’re not cartwheeling along the corridor and swinging from the chandeliers after that bad asthma attack.”

“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll give it a go.”

He opens the door to our room, guiding me in, and I immediately collapse onto the bed. “Shit,” I mutter, scrubbing my hands down my face and closing my eyes. I try to ignore how my breathing’s still shallow. I don’t want panic to come back and tighten my chest again.

I can hear Lachlan moving around the room. “Okay,” he finally says. “Can you manage a shower, do you think? The steam might loosen your chest a bit.”

I open my eyes. “Maybe.” I consider the whole palaver and judge it to be a bit beyond me at the moment.

“Come on.”

I blink as he strips off his shirt. “Lachlan, not now. I just had an asthma attack. You’re an absolute animal.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m getting in the shower with you.”

“You’re doing what?”

“I’ll get in with you. You’re a bit wobbly, and I don’t want you to fall over in there on your own.” He twangs the elastic on his boxer shorts. “Underwear on or off?”

“Oh, off,” I say faintly. “At least give me something nice to look at throughout the entire excruciatingly embarrassing debacle.”