CONTENTS TITLE PAGE INTRODUCTION BOOK DESCRIPTION CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EI...
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CONTENTS TITLE PAGE INTRODUCTION BOOK DESCRIPTION CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN CHAPTER TWELVE CHAPTER THIRTEEN CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN CHAPTER SIXTEEN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN CHAPTER EIGHTEEN CHAPTER NINETEEN CHAPTER TWENTY CHAPTER TWENTY ONE A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR BLITZED BY THE BILLIONAIRE THE GAMBLE A SNEAK PEEK MORE BY ALICE WARD ABOUT THE AUTHOR COPYRIGHT AND DISCLAIMER
The Surprise
INTRODUCTION
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BOOK DESCRIPTION One night. One moment in time can change everything. One night is all we have together before I leave the country for a year to serve as a physician with Doctors Beyond Borders-mostly to avoid real life obligations. Meeting her, being with her is like nothing I’ve ever experienced before… and probably never will again. During those few hours together, something grows between us, and although we don’t even know each other’s names, it takes root. It grows. Duplicates. I know she’s the one. But apparently she doesn’t feel the same. The thing is, she’s not the same as the women before, who only wanted me because I’m a billionaire. She haunts me. When fate brings me back to the States earlier than expected, I come face to face with her. And the biggest surprise of my life. Will she allow me to be more than a stranger? Or has one mistake cost me everything?
CHAPTER ONE Scarlett
“We have two more coming up from ER!” I stared at Melinda in disbelief, but the charge nurse just shot me a sympathetic look and kept running down the hall of the labor and delivery unit where I’d spent the past twelve hours. And where I’d possibly spend the next who knew how long. I glanced at my watch. It was nearly seven, nearly time for my shift to end, but one thing was for sure… from the looks of it, I wouldn’t be going home for the next couple hours at least. A call bell rang, and I looked up to see that it was the birthing mother from hell — again. I sighed and ran an arm over my brow. I stuffed a peanut butter cracker into my mouth and downed two swallows of my Snapple Peach Tea before straightening my ponytail and heading to her room. Plastering on a smile, I headed to the patient’s bedside, barely able to suppress the chuckle that wanted to burst from me each time I saw how ridiculous the woman looked. It didn’t matter how elegant our most sophisticated birthing room was decorated, nothing was good enough for this first-time mom. Upon arrival, she’d had her “people” change the sheets of the hospital bed from the practical white cotton-poly mix to ridiculously expensive — and slippery — pink silk. “In honor of our precious daughter’s birth,” the primping diva told me when I first saw the room’s transformation as she smoothed the newly added furry white blanket with her bejeweled hand. Of course, it wasn’t. Mrs. Celine Harlington-Worthington, the Fifth — aka Cece-Gorgeous on Instagram — only thought of herself and hadn’t stopped taking selfies since her arrival ten hours ago. Her accoutrements for the glorious occasion had nothing to do with the baby in her womb. The decorations included pale pink twinkle lights that cast a soft glow around the woman — the better to selfie herself with, no doubt. The outrageously expensive looking silk gown that was going to be ruined in a few hours showed off super slim, tanned arms and breasts that were bigger than my ample ass cheeks. And silliest of all, the diamond encrusted tiara perched on the twenty-two-year-old’s head appeared to have real diamonds. The curling iron on the nearby nightstand was being carefully watched by her stylist, who checked her hair and makeup every few minutes, pulling from the suitcase of cosmetics by her side as needed. Mrs. Harlington-Worthington, the Fifth wasn’t a queen. Or a princess. She was worse. One of those Instagram models who made money from showing off her tits and ass… and now her baby was going to be swept down that money track too. Not that she needed it. She’d snagged an older billionaire dude who called her precious and sweedums. She was semi seriously on my list for a psych eval, but my smile stayed in place as I asked the
soon-to-be momster, “How may I serve you?” Crap. I hadn’t meant for it to come out exactly that way. Mrs. HW5 didn’t seem to mind. “I think you should check me again. I’m quite certain I’m at ten. I just can’t imagine my body taking so long. I’ve been preparing for this moment for weeks, and I’m quite behind schedule.” I suppressed a sigh and headed over to the monitor to look at her strip. Baby looked good. Mom looked good — on paper. “I checked you just a half hour ago. I doubt there has been much change.” Not with these wimpy ass contractions, I wanted to add but didn’t. Her doctor needed to be shot for admitting her this early in labor. Especially on an evening like this. She raised her chin, and the reflection from one of the diamonds in the tiara nearly blinded me as it refracted the light. Her perfectly glossed pink lips pursed together. “I’m quite sure you’re mistaken. I can feel my body opening in glorious anticipation of Marie Claire’s entrance into our world.” This poor baby. I glanced at Mr. Worthington, the Fifth, who was still tapping away at his laptop. He hadn’t even lifted his head since I entered the room, his thick silver-streaked black hair shining in the pink ambiance of the lighting. He was at least forty years her senior and was “very busy with his important work” as Mrs. HW5 told me several times. “Celine, I—” I stopped when she raised an eyebrow, then cleared my throat, forgetting about my earlier instructions to use her formal married name. “Mrs. HarlingtonWorthington, the Fifth, I—” Another call bell sounded at the nurses’ station, drawing my attention. “I’ll be right back.” Her overly drawn smoky cat eyes blinked rapidly at me, the long fake lashes reminding me of spider legs as they swept her bronzed and highlighted cheeks. “But, I want to be checked now.” Her cool blue eyes dropped to my shoes and crawled their way back up my pink and chocolate-brown scrubs. “And please do change before the baby’s born.” She glanced at her stylist, who jumped to attention, reminding me of what a soldier would do for a general. “Can you do something with her? Makeup, hair.” She gave a tight smile as her cool blue eyes assessed me. “Something more, um, photo friendly.” Her eyes grew large and she inhaled a great gasp, and I wondered if she was finally feeling a contraction. When she thrust a finger into the air, I realized she’d just had an idea. A terrible idea by the way she was eyeing me. “We’ll do a makeover for her! Won’t that be delightful? We’ll call it Ambush Makeover, Nurse Edition, and it—” I held up my hands as if warding off a slap. “Um, no. Thank you for the kind offer, but no.” Mrs. HW5 thrusted her lower lip out in an exaggerated pout, and I was nearly overjoyed to see the pink smear of her gloss create a semicircle on her chin. My delight lasted only an instant before the stylist swept in and whisked the gooey flaw away, then pressed some powder to her already unshiny nose. Heat flooded my face. I could feel it scorch its way up my neck and to my cheeks. Not
from embarrassment of how I knew I looked at the moment, but from the sheer audacity of this woman. This was New York. I had divas aplenty on this ward. But this was the diva of all divas, and I wanted to slap the stupid tiara off her hair extensions and thrust her curling iron up her tight ass. I wanted to scream at her. I wanted her to know that all twelve of our birthing room beds were full and that we had patients vying for an open one downstairs. I wanted to chide that she shouldn’t even be admitted yet, but because her husband pretty much owned half of New York City, her every wish had been granted by a suck-ass doctor who refused to say no when the very first contraction hit. I wanted her to know that, in the room next to hers, a woman was going through labor too, but would be pushing out a baby who had already died from profound anencephalies, and she and her family knew they’d never hear that first precious cry. I wanted her to know that we’d already had another fetal death earlier this week. And I’d been the one who washed the vernix from the little boy’s limbs and swaddled him like I’d swaddle any newborn, handing him over to his sobbing mother and the father who looked like a feather would knock him off his chair. I wanted to shout at her about the dejected thirteen-year-old down the hall, who’d be handing her baby over to the overjoyed adoptive parents also in the room—and who would be going to live at a friend’s house after discharge because her parents had kicked her out when they learned she was pregnant. I wanted to shout at this pampered princess that, three doors down, a mother had sacrificed her life for the sake of her child. The thirty-one-year-old woman had been diagnosed with brain cancer when she was nine weeks pregnant. She’d foregone chemotherapy and treatment so that the baby could be born healthy. She might get to spend three months with him, but probably less. She and her son would go home tomorrow morning, and her family would wait for the cruel reality of her painful death. But I didn’t shout any of those things, because I also knew just how much this mom deserved her special day too. Yeah, she might be over the top, by a lot. She might be annoying as hell. She might even deserve to have that damn tiara yanked from her golden head… but today was precious. And I’d do whatever it took to make sure her baby came into this world safely. And I don’t get my ass sued or Instagramed into the Nursing Hall of Shame. As an L&D nurse, I loved my job, no matter how horrible the mom or the situation. It had been what I wanted to do since I was young and pretended my first Barbie was in labor with Ken holding her hand. Of course, at that time, I thought babies came from their mother’s belly buttons. It wasn’t until I went to live on my aunt and uncle’s farm in upstate New York when I was nearly eight that I learned the truth by witnessing a black and white calf come into the world. Yes, it was messy, but I’d been hypnotized by the process. I’d loved it. From that moment on, I watched almost all the farm animals give birth. I rubbed bellies, and when I was older, the vet would let me help, guiding me through every step while answering my plethora of questions. Excusing myself from the room, I ran to the nurses’ station and hit the button to answer the call button for room ten, wondering where everyone was. “How can I help
you?” I asked, keeping my voice as courteous as possible. “Can my wife have more ice chips, please?” I rolled my eyes but forced a bright smile on my face, hoping the action would come across in my voice. I checked the wife’s name on the board to confirm she was allowed this bit of comfort. She was. “Absolutely. Just a moment.” Squirting out a hand full of antibacterial foam and vigorously rubbing it into my palms and between my fingers, I rushed to the pantry and scooped up a cup of ice, still wondering where everyone was. Today had been crazy, and the night didn’t seem to be getting much better. There was a full moon, and I didn’t care how many people said it was an old wives’ tale, the change in moon did seem to affect amniotic fluid as much as it did the waves in the ocean. In addition to that, a significant barometric pressure shift had pressed down on the entire east coast from an incoming strain of storms. My sinuses felt it, and it seemed pregnant women near their due dates were feeling it too. Plus, it was September, one of our busiest months. Apparently, it was too cold in December and January to do anything but have sex in this town, so we always had a slew of late summer and early fall babies. And today, we were swamped with them. “Here you go,” I told the panting mother-to-be, handing the ice chips to a concernedlooking woman holding her hand. Ah, yes. The lesbian couple. Or was the non-laboring one transgender? I couldn’t remember, and my poor brain refused to give up the information. I checked the strip. Yep, she was having a contraction and was doing so steadily every three minutes. Where the hell was Olivia, her primary nurse? “Will my epidural be here soon?” she asked when the contraction had faded, her wife wiping the sweat from her forehead with gentle fingers. I took her hand in mine, giving her my best reassuring smile. “I’ll find out. We have a full house this evening, so try to be patient. Remember your breathing.” I looked at the wife. “Can you help her with that?” I was given a shaky smile, and I squeezed the other woman’s hand too. They both looked to be in their late thirties, and I wondered if this was their first child. I didn’t have time to look in the patient chart, which made me feel extremely guilty. On a normal day, I’d try to get her up and out of bed, have her walk or sit on one of the birthing balls. Maybe even take a shower, let the warm water hit her back and let gravity help with the baby’s descent. Do anything but lie in the bed and suffer the way she was suffering now. But she wasn’t my patient, and I needed to figure out where everyone was. I gave her hand another squeeze and a gentle pat. “Either Olivia or I will be back soon.” Hurrying out, I was so relieved to see Stephanie in the hallway, I nearly broke out in dance. “Where is everyone?” I whisper-yelled as I got closer to where she was tapping information into a computer on wheels.
She wiped a sleeve over her forehead. “Olivia and Melinda are in ER, assessing the two transfers. We don’t have any open rooms, so they’re trying to figure everything out. Everyone else is with their patients. Thanks for helping with ten. What did she need?” “Ice chips and her epidural’s estimated time of arrival,” I told her and squirted more antibacterial foam into my hands. Some people were addicted to drugs, alcohol, gambling. Me and my nerd self had a hankering for Germ-X every time I passed it. Stephanie shook her head, her eyes filled with sympathy and concern. “I warned her that anesthesiology would be slow in coming around. On top of the big twelve car pileup on the interstate, there was a smaller pileup about a half hour ago. Got staff all over the hospital calling in to say they’re stuck in the resulting traffic jam. Everyone’s pulling overtime until they can get here.” I pressed my fingers to my temples. “You’re kidding.” “I wish. OR and ER are filled with victims. We’re having all maternity patients diverted, but you know how that goes. Nobody wants to change hospitals or doctors. County is already full. Cameron is calling in help, so we’ll just have to hang in there.” Well, there goes my girls’ night out with Amy and friends. “How about we toss out Barbie?” I asked with a flash of my teeth. “One problem solved. No, actually two problems solved. We’ll free up a bed, and I won’t be going to jail for murder.” Stephanie laughed, her dark eyes shining in the hallway’s bright lights. “I wish.” She blew out a breath that made her lips flutter. “Dr. Pansy-ass would probably clear out the entire floor for Mr. and Mrs. Moneybags if administration would let him.” A call bell rang, and I gave her a salute before racing down the hall. I snagged my Snapple as I hit the answer button. “How can I help you?” I took a long drink of the lukewarm tea, then chugged another while I waited for someone to talk. When they didn’t, I said again, “Hello? How can I help you?” Nothing. Then the same call bell sounded again. A shiver of unease snaked up my spine, and the hair on my neck stood up. Setting down the tea, I raced to room six, shoved open the door, and… shit. “Bloody hell,” I yelled, unsure of why I suddenly sounded British. I jerked my head sideways to make the vision of the two people having sex go away. Too late. The man — not the baby’s father, who I remembered from earlier, was a tall blond dude with a nose the size of a small child — whirled around, his four-inch pecker pointing directly at me. His curly pubic hair, definitely not blond, was almost longer than his glistening midget member, resembling a worm being consumed by a bush. The mom screamed and yanked down her hospital gown, then pulled up the pillow to cover her face. I. Am. A. Professional. Lifting my chin, I cleared my throat, then reached into my pocket and rummaged past the rolls of tape, the pen light, alcohol wipes, sticky notepads, and ink pens to wrap my hand around a pair of bandage scissors in case I needed them. For limited protection. Not
to offer the hairy dude a much-needed trim. This wasn’t my patient, but I’d helped Lorie earlier with her admission, and had a gist of what was going on. “Miss Patrick, do you know this man?” I was fully aware that it appeared to be a silly question given the circumstances, but one never knew. I had to make sure some random guy wasn’t taking advantage of a patient. I pointed at the guy’s penis. “Please put that away.” He cursed, then whirled back around, and the hiss of a zipper was the only sound in the room. I was disappointed when he didn’t catch his scrotum in the teeth and become yet another patient in our ER. The red-faced patient pulled the pillow down just enough to peek at me. “Yes. He… he…” The guy cursed, then faced me again. He actually took a few steps in my direction and stuck out his hand. I didn’t shake, for what I thought were obvious reasons, and he slowly lowered it to his side, his face turning redder by the second. “I’m sorry. I’m Mike, Mindy’s boyfriend. I’m the father of the baby. We… I… shit. Heard that, you know, doing it helped things along.” My eyes slid to Mindy, who was giving me a pleading look. My eyes slowly slid back to Mike. “Sexual intercourse…” I purposefully used the official name for doing it, just to see if it made him squirm — it did, “can help initiate labor, but Mindy is in active labor.” I glanced at her chart. “She’s seven centimeters dilated.” I made a fist, which was a little larger than what Mindy’s open cervix was when she was last checked. If I had a can of soda, I’d have used it for a better visual, but the exact measurement didn’t matter right now. “That means your penis was encountering this much of the baby’s head during penetration. You’re lucky her water hadn’t broken or we’d have an even more serious infection risk here.” And you’re lucky your pecker wasn’t longer or you’d given the kid a concussion, I wanted to add just before I kicked the asshole in the balls. I did neither. The guy paled and began kneading the back of his neck with his hand. “I’m sorry. I thought it might also, you know, distract her from the pain. I didn’t jizz. Only trying to help.” Jizz? What did this girl see in this man? As if to underscore his words, Mindy had a contraction and began to squeal as it hit her hard. Mike’s eyes opened wide and he gave me a see, it’s working look before turning to hold her hand, then nearly went to his knees as Mindy squeezed his knuckles into dust. Too bad she hadn’t gotten hold of his hairy balls. Behind me, the door opened, and I turned to find a tall blond man with a big nose coming in without knocking, and Mindy’s eyes widened in pure panic. A bead of sweat trailed down her temple as she panted through the pain. Oh, shit.
I gripped the scissors harder as adrenaline sent a surge of its juicy chemicals through my blood stream, making my heart start pounding in return. I angled away, taking small steps toward Mindy’s head, and the call bell. Where the hell was the call bell? “Who the hell are you?” Big nose said, looking from me, to Mike, to Mindy and Mike again. Mike was still in hand recovery mode, shaking the injured appendage before sticking it in the tall guy’s direction. I winced as they shook, but then realized both men’s hands had been where Mike’s were most recently. “I’m Mike,” hairy guy said, “you the doctor?” Stunned at that assumption, I looked at big nose, who was wearing his jeans halfway down his ass, showing off his Fruit of the Loom underwear. Hairy guy — erm, Mike — wasn’t very bright, I assessed, if he thought this bozo was a physician. I desperately hoped he wasn’t the baby’s father, not that the alternate was much better. Poor kid was going to have a tough enough childhood as it was. “Out, please.” I finally made my mouth work enough to speak up, flapping my arms in a sweeping gesture to herd them toward the door. “I want both of you to head to the waiting area while I check Mom.” Once the two potential paternity candidates figured things out, I didn’t want the blowup to be in this room. And from the way they were eyeing each other, and from the still panicked look in Mindy’s eyes, it might happen soon. For big nose, certainly. He appeared to have more than a few brain cells working. It might take a little longer for Mike to figure things out. I shooed them out the door and moved back to the patient’s bedside. She fell backwards onto the pillow, both hands covering her eyes. I pried them away and gave her antibacterial wipes to clean them. Damn. What was wrong with these people? “So, what is the plan?” I asked her, desperately trying to keep my voice calm and sympathetic when all I really wanted to do was shake some common sense into the girl. “Do you know which is the father?” She blinked rapidly while her head did a slow side to side. “I… I was hoping I’d figure it out when the baby was born,” she confessed with a little sob. “You know, by the hair color.” I sighed, deciding this wasn’t the best time to get into a genetics conversation, then heard a small voice call out, “Can I help you?” Then it came again, barely audible. Realizing what it was, I followed the cord to the patient call box, which was wedged under a trembling Mindy. How she hadn’t felt the rigid plastic under her ass was a mystery. Well, at least I now knew why the buzzer had kept going off. Before I could answer, Lorie came into the room. I practically leaped at the primary nurse, filled her in on her patient’s delicate situation, and left her with the mess, promising to call security to come deal with the men if necessary. Suddenly, Instagram Barbie didn’t seem so bad, and I nearly flung myself into her room, pumping out a double dose of sanitizing foam along the way, working it into my hands and almost up to my elbows, wishing I could use it to disinfect my brain as well.
“It’s about time,” Mrs. Harlington-Worthington, the Fifth exclaimed with a huff that shot her bangs up into the air. Bangs? I blinked at her. “You’ve changed your hair.” And with that one comment, my tardiness was apparently forgiven. She beamed and stroked her fingers through the even longer mane of even brighter blonde curls. “Do you like? I think it showcases the tiara better, don’t you?” Poor, poor baby. “Absolutely,” I said with what I hoped was a warm smile. “You look beautiful.” She beamed even brighter, but what she didn’t know was that I’d tell that to any laboring mom, no matter how matted the hair or sweat-streaked the face. Labor was the epitome of vulnerable, and often, a kind word or two went a long way toward easing the stress of the constant pain. “Well, you still look terrible,” the social media brat said, and I immediately hated her again. “I don’t mean to be mean…” Sure she didn’t. “But you’d be really pretty if you just tried a little bit. Giselle and I were just talking about how good your skin is. A little pale, but it complements your auburn hair — which would be more attractive if you straightened it — and makes your blue eyes look even bluer. If I were you, I’d cover the freckles though. Have you seen the blending cremes on the market? They cover all kinds of deformities.” I inhaled deeply through my nose as I typed in her chart. Deformities? When did a few spots on the nose and cheeks become a terrible thing? Suddenly missing Mindy and the two-father dilemma two doors down the hallway, I ignored Mrs. Harlington-Worthington, the Fifth while I continued to chart and she went on about how best to contour my face. “Aren’t you going to check me?” she asked with a huff, rubbing her hands over her slight mound of belly. If I didn’t know she was past her due date, I would have thought she was closer to seven months along. Her bump was tiny. “I’m probably ready to push by now, you took so long to come back.” Inhaling another long, deep breath in through my nose, I let it out just as slowly. “Are you feeling any contractions yet?” A pained expression came across her face, and she lifted her phone to take a picture of it. She looked at the screen, was clearly not pleased with the result, made an even more agonized face, and snapped again. Oh, dear god. “Yes.” She fanned herself with her hand. “It’s agony.” Snatching up a pair of gloves, I snapped them on, thinking I could do this gently, or not so gently. I could even have thumb slippage and give her a little jolt in the ass. Mrs. HW5’s eyes widened just as I was about to ask her to let her knees fall to the
side. “Oh…” She grabbed her belly. “Oooh!” I glanced at the monitor, and hurray, oh thank you god, she was having a contraction. A real damn one. Finally. The stylist surged forward and patted rice paper on her nose while my patient writhed on the bed. Dear heavens above. Calmly, I timed the contraction, encouraging her to breathe through the pain. “Epidural,” she screamed, and her husband’s head finally popped up from his laptop screen. He looked directly at me and snapped his freaking fingers. “Get on that.” I shot laser darts of hatred onto his head as he looked back down at his computer and began tapping away, but ignored his command. I showed my teeth to my patient in what I hoped would pass as a smile. “I’ll check you as soon as this one ends.” She continued to writhe and scream, her camera forgotten for a moment. If this was how real labor with her was going to be, I’d put in the epidural myself. Maybe even a backup one, just in case. “Have you decorated the nursery yet?” I asked in way of a distraction as I felt her belly grow even tighter under my palms. She huffed and puffed, but managed to nod as the contraction wound its way down. “Yes,” she panted. “It’s beautiful. Better than Princess Charlotte’s, no doubt. It’s… oh… oh… auggh…” The last sound ended on a scream that jerked her husband’s head up again. He had a highbrow, annoying tone. “Do you plan on doing anything?” I hated him. I checked the monitor, touched the belly that was growing tighter again. Sure enough, she was having another. Labor could be weird like that sometimes. Hours of nothing, then everything happened at warp speed. Maybe her doctor was secretly a genius, and I should bow down and worship by his crystal ball. “It’s been a couple hours since you went to the bathroom,” I said, knowing that a full bladder often increased contractions. I pulled up her gown to release the monitors she — and her freaking doctor — insisted be kept in place. “Let’s get you up. You can use the bathroom and walk around a little bit.” She gave a dramatic sigh and rolled her eyes. “I suppose. It is tiring just lying here. I’m so used to being active. Just a second.” She raised her camera, took a picture, and I watched in astonishment as she typed, “Last pee break before baby!!” across the screen. Lowering the bedrail, I helped her to her feet. It really was amazing how small her baby bump was for forty-one weeks. “How much do you work out?” I asked, genuinely curious. Her hand went to her belly as she leaned heavily onto me. You’d have thought she’d just had major surgery from how slowly she moved. “At least twice a day, about two hours each session.” I gasped. “You’re kidding.”
“No, and that was just in the past few weeks. I didn’t want the baby to get too big, create those atrocious stretch marks.” Of course, stretch marks would be her primary worry. More concerned now, I asked, “And what do you eat to stay so slim?” We finally made it to the toilet. She sighed as a loud stream of urine hit the water. “Mostly green vegetables, a little fruit, but not too much. I have to get back into shape immediately, you know. Don’t want hubby turning me in for a younger model.” I stared at her, and for the first time, saw something close to real emotion cross her face. It was there and gone in an instant, but it caused a flood of compassion to hit me. “I’m sure he wouldn’t do that. You’re perfect, and you’re giving him a baby to love.” She blinked rapidly and yanked at the toilet paper, pulling off nearly a quarter of the roll. She wiped, and I helped her stand and get to the sink to wash her hands. I checked the color of her urine before flushing it all away, then snapped on new gloves as she stood and looked at herself in the mirror. “You think I’m ridiculous, don’t you?” she asked softly but continued to stare at her reflection. Yes. Yes, I did. “No, not at all,” I said and went to stand behind her, my gaze meeting hers in the mirror. “I think you live a very different lifestyle than I do, with a different set of pressures.” “I’m scared,” she whispered and began blinking hard again. My heart squeezed a little. “Scared of what?” “Carl’s never seen me without makeup,” she confessed, and I blinked. I’d expected her to talk about the pain of childbirth, being a good mom, being able to breastfeed with DDD implants. “Never?” Looking miserable, she shook her head. “And I don’t want him to, you know, watch the birth. I don’t want him to see me look bad… down there. I—” Her eyes widened, and she groaned as another contraction hit her. After it had passed, I suggested we go for a walk, maybe finish our conversation as I tried to figure out the relationship dynamics and how best to care for my patient’s emotional needs as well as the physical ones. She shook her head. “I just want to lie down again. I’m feeling a bit dizzy.” Holding onto her tighter, I asked, “When did you last eat? A real meal?” She glanced up at me and sighed. “A couple days ago.” She lowered her voice. “I heard rumors of women, you know, pooping during labor. I wanted to clean out my system so it didn’t happen to me.” It also explained why her full-term baby was so small. I gritted my teeth, wanting to
kick her doctor and her husband in the balls. She’d probably been dieting the entire time in addition to working out like a fiend. “Well, let’s get you back into bed, and I’ll talk to your doctor about adding some additional nourishment intravenously. You can’t eat right now, but some glucose could help. I’ll check your blood sugar once you’re settled.” Once she was back in bed and I’d placed the monitors back on, I checked and she sure enough was hypoglycemic. Knowing her asshole doctor would want to know her delivery status, I lowered the head of the bed and warned the other two people in the room that I was ready to check her. The husband turned away, his eyes never leaving the computer monitor while the stylist looked on curiously. “Heels together,” I instructed Mrs. HW5. “Let your knees drop to the bed.” And… gush. Amniotic fluid burst out in a sudden flood, the color darkened with the baby’s meconium. Shit. Literally. Worse, a section of the umbilical cord presented itself from her vagina. Just like that, we’d gone from prima donna labor to full-scale emergency in an instant. I glanced at the monitor, and damn, the baby’s heart rate plummeted. I made a promise to never criticize a doctor again, even though I knew that promise would last about half a minute. Jumping on the bed, I jammed two fingers into the writhing, screaming woman, found the baby’s head where it was pressing on the cord and gently lifted, taking pressure off the life-giving cord. The heart rate increased, giving us some time. “What are you doing?” the husband shouted, launching himself to his feet so fast his precious laptop crashed to the floor. Ignoring him, I twisted around and jammed my other hand on the call button, then began lowering the head of the bed even farther, putting Mrs. Harlington-Worthington, the Fifth into the Trendelenburg position, hoping to decrease the pressure on the cord. I needed to give her oxygen but couldn’t risk removing my fingers to reach for it, and because of the silk sheets, I kept sliding around, making my precarious perch even more precarious. I felt Mr. Worthington, the Fifth’s tight fingers on my shoulder. “Get off of her. I’ll have your job on a silver platter.” I winced at the pain in my shoulder but didn’t stop holding the baby’s head off the cord. Carefully arranging my face into my calmest expression, I explained the emergency in simple terms. “The umbilical cord has prolapsed, meaning it has slipped out of the cervix ahead of the baby.” Mr. W5’s face went milky white, and he swayed a little to the side. With my free hand, I clutched at him, not needing a bleeding or concussed father to worry with too. “The baby’s head is compressing the cord. I’m holding the baby’s head up. We’re okay for the moment, but we’ll—” “Can I help you?” Relief flooded through me as I recognized Olivia’s voice float into the room. “UPC.
Prep OR. Need O2. Stat.” In seconds, the door burst open, and I yelled for someone to get Dad. Within a minute, the entire bed, me included, was being pushed down the hallway, my fingers growing numb from holding the baby’s head up as my knees slipped and slid on the sheets. “What’s happening?” Mrs. HW5 cried out, and I gave her a gentle smile as I hovered above her. I explained the situation again as we raced down the hall. “You’re going to be fine,” I soothed. “I can feel your baby’s head. I think little Marie Claire’s got lots of hair.” With the gloves on, I didn’t know that at all, but it gave me something to talk about during one of her most terrifying moments. “I bet she’ll be as beautiful as you.” Mrs. HW5 smiled, just a little, tears shining in her eyes. “Do I look okay?” she asked and it didn’t even piss me off. I laughed and promised that she did. We were lucky. An OR had just been cleared and cleaned after one of the traffic accident victims, so we were wheeled in immediately. I held my position as we moved to the operating table and the OR nurses covered me with blue sterile sheets. Covered as I was, I couldn’t see anything, just listened as the anesthesiologist gave the go ahead, indicating she was asleep. The sound of the scalpel slicing through skin was shiver inducing, but still, I held my position, knowing my fingers were the only thing saving this precious little human at the moment. Within minutes, the weight of the baby’s head was lifted from my fingers, and I could finally remove my hand, although it took a few moments to uncramp from the position it had been in for so long. I crawled off the table, my legs shaky beneath me as sweat dripped down every part of my body, and pulled off the gloves, tossing them in the trash. Then, there was the cry, the sweetest sound in the entire world. It started out small, then grew stronger with each breath. I deeply hoped the meconium didn’t affect her too badly. That sound was one of the reasons I loved this job so much. “Great job, Scarlett,” Dr. Edmond said, glancing up from where he was delivering the placenta before going through the process of sewing the patient back up. Mrs. HW5 would probably have a hissy fit about the vertical scar, but it couldn’t be helped, and I hoped she would find beauty in it one day. As I watched him stitch up the uterus that was still lying on the outside of the patient’s body, my hand went to my own scar, caressing the long line of puckered tissue that ran down my side. Maybe I’d find beauty in my scar one day too.
CHAPTER TWO Langston
“Langston, sweetheart, are you sure this is what you want to do?” I looked into my mother’s honey-colored eyes and gave her a kiss on her soft cheek, inhaling the Clive Christian fragrance she favored. “Absolutely sure. The time will pass in a flash. I’ll call every week, I promise.” She waved a hand in front of her face, as if she could wave the threatening tears back into her eye ducts, the growing pinkness from her nose. I bit back a groan and held the tiny but formidable woman to my chest. I loved my mother dearly and hated to see her genuinely sad. I was a lucky son of a bitch. I’d hit the lottery at birth, had been given the golden ticket just by being born. Not just in wealth and privilege, but by also having a mother and father who adored me, who only wanted the best for me. And if they attempted to steer my life a little too much… it was a small price to pay to know that, no matter what, I was genuinely loved by at least a couple of people on the planet. “I know,” she said with a delicate sniff as she reached into her sleeve for one of my grandmother’s antique handkerchiefs she kept there. “It’s just so surreal. You were away at school for so long, and then moved around so much. I thought for sure you’d finally move back home to take over your father’s practice. Then this…” She sniffed and blinked harder, but a tear escaped this time, sending a shot of guilt into my gut as she gently dabbed it away, careful not to distort the public persona she’d so carefully crafted over her fifty-eight years. She was right. I had been away at school for a long time, but that had all been part of the master plan conceived by my parents long before my actual conception thirty-six years ago. To a letter, I’d followed their wishes. Well, for the most part, anyway. Four in the exclusive boarding school I’d been thrust into for my high school years. Then another four at my father’s alma mater, Columbia, then another four in medical school. That was followed by five incredibly grueling ones in the residency program, years that sleep deprivation had pretty much evaporated from my memory. I only strayed from my parents’ path when I’d chosen a two-year fellowship in a busy inner-city trauma surgery program instead of quietly stepping into my father’s established New York City surgical practice. I wasn’t yet ready to deal with the cushy but sterile life of treating high society gallbladder attacks and appendectomies. I wanted more action. That was what I loved. Getting my hands dirty while patching people back up, pulling them back from the brink of death, and giving them a few more years on this earth while riding the high of a stress-induced adrenaline rush. Following the fellowship, I’d spent the past couple years as locum tenens, floating around the country, practicing wherever I was needed, moving between inner city and
remote rural as necessary. After spending my entire life in practically one place, I’d enjoyed the variety of different cities and towns, mountains and deserts — and the lovely ladies with different accents was a bonus, especially the southern ones. But it still wasn’t enough. I wanted to explore the country a bit before settling down on the East Coast permanently. I wasn’t ready to plant myself in any one place. When I was approached by Doctors Beyond Borders, I’d jumped at the chance to spend more time away from familial obligations. Because I knew, once I took over my father’s practice, it would all be over. The travel. Freedom. Flying under society’s radar. All my life, I knew it was coming, but I’d hoped I would at least be forty before that noose slipped around my neck. At thirty-six, that deadline was looming close, then after that, there would be the pressures of settling down and continuing the family lineage, as my parents hadn’t been blessed with a spare to take that pressure off. “I just miss you,” Mom said and straightened her face. “When I knew you were in the States, it was an easy flight to come visit. Now…” She shivered, and I knew she was envisioning wild animals and mosquitos and dirty conditions of living in huts with no running water. She wasn’t far off. “Just think…” I said, trying to reassure her, “when I return after my time in Maiduguri, I’ll never want to leave the comfort of the carriage house again.” Her eyes brightened, as I knew they would when talking about me actually having purchased a place in which to settle down, then she tapped her lips with a finger. I knew what was coming next. My mother, as delicate looking as she appeared, was a shrewd businesswoman and loved to “tinker” in real estate, as she called it, increasing her astounding inherited wealth exponentially over the past few decades. “Are you quite sure you wouldn’t be happier with a Central Park view, darling? Sting’s penthouse is on the market and word on the street is that I could snap it up at fifty-two.” It was hard not to roll my eyes. In my mother’s world, fifty-two million dollars was a bargain she could easily write a check for. I remembered how she’d just looked at me like I was some alien being zapped into her life when I purchased the 1903 carriage house and began the process of bringing the old building back to life. It wasn’t finished yet, but the contractor and decorator I hired came well recommended and promised to have it completed months before I returned from overseas. “You should drop into the carriage house and see the work they’ve already done,” I said to distract her further. “They’ve pulled down the ceilings to find the most incredible beams. I can’t believe anyone in their right mind thought it was a good idea to plaster over them. And the floor will be the showcase of the entire building when they’re finished.” The distraction worked, and Mom brightened, tucking the lace back into the sleeve of her twenty-thousand-dollar Versace gown. “Yes, I’ll do that. I’ll keep everything on track while you’re…” She sniffed again. Shit, the handkerchief was making a reappearance. “Gone.”
I was saved from the weepy look Mom gave me as a three-tier cake was wheeled into the room. I blew out a breath and forced a smile onto my face as the mayor clapped me on the back and a slice of the delicious cake was handed to me. “The Big Apple is going to miss you, son,” the white-haired man said, and I set down the cake, knowing there would be no additional time to finish it. I shook his hand, then all the other hands that followed, saying the right things as the evening finally came to a close. My parents had thought it fitting to have me a “sendoff” party that had morphed from a small “intimate” dinner of twenty to a gathering of nearly two hundred in their expansive penthouse, or “city home” as Mom called it. The “country home” on King’s Point was simply too much of a drive. “Can we leave yet?” Josh moaned as he handed me another whiskey. Best friend since boarding school, Joshua Latimer wasn’t impressed by this shindig either. Like me, he’d smiled pleasantly through many of them during his life. I looked at my watch. “Half hour.” “Thank the fuck.” He tossed the expensive drink back in one gulp and smiled as one of the supreme court judge’s daughters passed by, giving his tie a little tug. He winked at me. “See you in thirty.” I snorted. “Five, if rumor is true.” He flipped me off and followed the pretty blonde down the hallway, refraining to tell him she’d tugged my tie earlier. I hadn’t been interested. Hell, I hadn’t been interested in much of anything in the past couple months. The cottage house had been a nice distraction while I waited to step onto the plane and be gone from this place for a while. Truth be told, I was burned out. Or maybe I was just fucking tired and needed to sleep. My last shift in the emergency room had been last night, and I hadn’t been able to save a little girl with three bullet holes in her abdomen and chest. She’d fought so hard. Just eight years old, she survived the ambulance ride and had been so brave. Even as tears streamed in rivers down the side of her face, she hadn’t been able to voice her fear, just beseeched me with big brown eyes to save her. I tried. I failed. And the wails of her mother as I told her the shocking news still rang in my ears. Tossing back the whiskey, I forced the thought away. Forced away the thoughts of all those who had died under my scalpel. I couldn’t save them all. I knew that. And I hated it. It was good that I was going away. I needed to get away. Away from the gangs who killed innocent young girls over a pair of shoes. Away from the victimization that had become America. The pointing fingers. The lawsuits. The expectations. God. The fucking expectations that threatened to suffocate the entire world, including me.
Once, in a philosophy class I’d been forced to sign up for at Columbia, one of the students had learned who I was and the wealth behind my name. During an open discussion, the pretty little brunette had snarled at how pathetic I was to not, in her words, “Share your billions with the rest of America, with the world!” Leesa was of the even distribution mindset and wore the “money is evil” t-shirt above her expensive True Religion jeans that she’d purchased with her daddy’s credit card to prove it — in her mind, at least. I’d shut her up when I pulled out my wallet and fished a five and three one-dollar bills from it, handing the eight dollars to her. “What the fuck is this for?” Leesa had snapped, crushing the bills in her fist, eyes blazing. I lifted a shoulder and spread out my hands. “Your share of my wealth.” Her eyes had narrowed as she tossed the eight dollars at my chest. I hadn’t bothered to catch them, just let them fall to the floor. “Do you think I’m stupid?” “No.” There had been twenty sets of eyes on me at that point, but I hadn’t cared. Even back then, I was tired of the big-dreams-with-limited-thinking mentality that had surrounded me. “But I think your rose-colored glasses have caused you to be mathematically challenged.” Leesa stomped her foot. “I’m very good at math.” Then she snarled, “Even for a girl.” She was trying to turn the argument into the dirty waters of sexism if she could. I’d seen it before. Women were like that, twisting and turning every damn thing you said until you couldn’t remember the original words. I hadn’t let her derail me from the point I was trying to make. “Terrific. How much money do you think I have in my trusts, investments, and accounts?” She crossed her arms over her chest and huffed. “The internet said over…” her nose wrinkled like she smelled something bad, “a billion ridiculous dollars.” “You might want to double-check your sources. If I sold all my assets and cashed out my trusts, it’s closer to two point five billion,” I told her, being brutally honest. No way in hell was I going to have her do some vengeful fact-checking and accuse me of lying later. “There are over three hundred and twenty million people in the United States. If I distributed my wealth equally to all of them, that…” I nodded to the crumpled bills on the floor, “is your share. I hope you enjoy your caramel macchiato with it.” She’d huffed and puffed as she absorbed that reality, then tossed out, “You could at least give it to the poor.” I’d been waiting for that argument and had already done the math in my mind. “Alright, let’s do that. With the forty-five million Americans living below the poverty level, how do you suggest they utilize the fifty-six dollars they’d each get from me? I’m sure they’re eager for your suggestions on how they could best stretch those dollars while they work two jobs trying to put food on the table for their kids.” She’d yanked out her calculator and tapped away before lifting her chin in stubborn refusal to face the facts. “It’s still disgusting,” she shouted and stood, tears in her eyes, and stomped on the bills on the floor before rushing out of the room.
I’d fucked her that night, when she came to my dorm to apologize for her outburst. I’d actually fucked Leesa a number of times, up until she began hinting that we’d make beautiful babies together. Until I caught her poking a needle into the condoms in my nightstand. The memory made me shiver. That had been the moment I lost trust in women completely. I’d spent the next several weeks ratcheted with anxiety that I’d gotten the conniving little bitch pregnant, appalled that someone like her could possibly have my baby. I had nightmares of how she’d hold our child over my head, using him or her to manipulate me for the next eighteen years. I’d dodged that bullet, but the lesson had made me smarter even as it left a thick layer of ice around my heart. I hadn’t let many people get close to me after that. Josh had inched his way in, but only because his folks were equally as wealthy and his lighthearted way at looking at life shined a light into my otherwise dark existence. An existence that had me chasing adrenaline rushes, preferring to jump out of planes or digging my hands into the guts of humanity rather than deal with people face-to-face. When I needed sex, I got it. There was always a woman up for a one-night stand, or even a few hours in a hotel room. Hell, a quickie in a club bathroom would serve many of them just fine. I never took them home. Never told them who I was, about my family, or that I was a doctor. I couldn’t stand the dollar signs that popped into their eyes if I did. The judge’s daughter was back, and she yanked on my tie, pulling me back to the present. “Do I get a goodbye kiss, Langston?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at me. I could smell her sweat. Her sex. Very carefully, I leaned down and pressed my lips to her forehead. She pouted, her glossed lip sticking out. “Is that it?” I wanted to shout at her. Hit something. Do something. Couldn’t she see how pathetic this was? Instead, I took a sip of my drink, attempting to wash the anger back down into my stomach. “Sorry, Emily. I know where your mouth has been.” Her eyes widened, and I thought for sure she was going to slap me, and a large part of me welcomed the pain. She didn’t. Instead, she whirled around and stomped from the room. Yet another reason women were nowhere close to my radar. I simply didn’t trust their conniving minds. Before the ring of her six-inch stilettos clicking on the marble floor faded, I spotted Josh coming down the hallway, straightening his tie. His grin took up his entire face as he lifted two fingers, then five. I gave him a thumbs-up for his bedroom prowess, wishing I had a little of his carefree attitude in me. “Impressive,” I said as he came to stand by my side. “Hope you didn’t throw out a hip.” He smirked. “Ready to blow this place? The club should be hopping by now.” I groaned, ready to give a million excuses as to why I didn’t want to go to any club, but he held up a hand, holding me off. “Shut up. You’re going. Just got to get you out of that penguin suit and into something that could get you laid, old man. It’s been forever since we went out, and from the looks of things, it will be forever until we get to again.”
Getting out of this suit was indeed priority one, but I really wanted to crash after that. “I’ve got a plane to catch—” I surrendered to our twenty-year friendship as he gave me an exaggerated yawn, patting his mouth with his hand for added emphasis. “Come on. It’s your last night here. Live a little. Have some fun before malaria bites you in the ass.” He had a point. “All right. Let’s go but just for an hour at most. I need to get some sleep. Plane leaves early tomorrow morning.” He hooked an arm around my neck. “All right, old man. Let’s get out of here and into some decent clothes.” Looking around, I found my parents still talking to the mayor and his wife. Mom’s happy expression immediately fell the moment she saw me, the bright smile sliding off her pretty face. She sighed. “Is it time?” I pulled her against my chest, then took the hand my father extended to me. “Yeah. I’m heading out, but don’t worry, the time will go by in a flash.” I’d signed a commitment for six months but felt sure I’d want to stay longer. In my mind, I planned to be there for a year at least. Maybe longer. Or maybe I’d skip to a different country, I wasn’t sure. I wanted to keep my options open. Out came the hankie, and she pressed it to her nose. “I’m just going to miss you so much.” I kissed her hair, breathing in the familiar scent again. “I know. I’ll miss you too.” “Son…” my father began, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “You sure about this?” I looked him in the eye, noticing not for the first time how tired he looked. I was a mixture of both my parents. Tall and dark-haired like him. Tawny-colored eyes and straight nose like her. I’d been their miracle child. After three miscarriages, they had almost given up when I came screaming into the world. There had been nothing but miscarriages after me, although they hadn’t given up until Mom was forced to have a hysterectomy when I was six. They’d been married for forty years last summer and were still very much in love, even though critics hadn’t given them a chance with their seventeen-year age difference. Critics also didn’t like that my mother was an heiress while my father was a lowly general surgeon, who would have been just as happy in a little house as in this massive Central Park apartment. “Yeah, Dad. I’m sure. I want to do this. Need to spit the silver spoon out of my mouth for a while.” The mayor guffawed, as if I’d told a hilarious joke. His wife poked him in the ribs with her elbow, shutting him up. “Here, Harold, let’s go get some air.” She led the grumbling man onto the patio, giving us some privacy. “Be careful, darling,” Mom said, rising onto tiptoes to press a kiss on my cheek, then using her thumb to wipe away the lipstick smudge. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to
stay here for tonight? Gerald can drive you to the airport in the morning.” I gave her another squeeze as I reminded her that, “I have to be up early and I’m staying closer to JFK. Already have my bags in my hotel room.” Her face fell even though I’d already told her that several times. “Call me when you land, darling. I’ll worry about you every minute.” “I will.” I hugged her again, got a shoulder squeeze from my father, then made my escape out of the penthouse with a grinning Josh by my side. “Nothing like parents to make a man feel like a teenager again, huh?” he asked, jamming his hands into his pockets. I punched the down button, wishing I could punch away the sense of guilt so easily. “Amen.”
*** An hour later, I was more comfortable in jeans and button up shirt but was regretting my decision to go out with Josh as the bass from the loud music pounded in my chest. Turning to look down at the dance floor a few feet below the VIP section, I took another glass from Josh’s hand and clicked the heavy-cut crystal against his in a silent toast. “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me it was an erotica club,” I said, raising my brow at the mostly naked women dancing all around us. The Gilded Cage was aptly named, I realized, as I watched a woman wearing only a thin G-string hump the golden bars of her cage. “You didn’t ask.” Josh lifted his drink, the smirk still in place. “I was lucky to score opening night tickets, so ungird your loins and have some fun.” “Welcome to The Gilded Cage, gentlemen,” an expensively dressed man said from my right. “I hope you’re having a pleasant evening. I’m Christopher Banning, the owner, at your service.” I nodded and stuck out a hand. “Langston Kimbrough. Nice place. I’m impressed.” Mr. Banning gave me an overly formal bow. “Were you given the tour upon your arrival?” he asked, looking between me and Josh, who introduced himself. “We were, and your club is above expectation.” The older man didn’t bother to hide his pride as he turned to face the throng of writhing bodies around us. I did the same, sweeping my gaze across the mass of people, searching faces. Searching for… something. I wasn’t sure what. “Performances will begin shortly,” he said with a nod toward the stage where a half dozen dancers currently humped each other. “There are several talented artists scheduled for tonight, in fact. The first is very entertaining, I’ve seen them several times now.”
I shot a look at Josh, who only grinned and drained his glass as the owner stepped away. Two women, a blonde and a brunette, approached our table, both gorgeous as sin, both ready for sex. I could practically smell it on them, it was so obvious. “Ready to party?” the blonde asked, leaning over to give me a fuller view of her ample cleavage. The straps of the dress looked incapable of holding her heavy breasts up, and I wondered if having them malfunction was part of some secret strategy on her part. “I’m Monica, and this is my friend, Rachel.” I narrowed my eyes, wondering if this was part of their game. “I’m Ross and this is Joey,” I teased, thinking the girls might be fun and more interesting after all. Without missing a beat, Josh stuck out his hand, “How you doin’?” The blonde fluttered her eyelashes and stepped closer to him, her hand sliding against his palm. “I’m doing great, Joey.” I stared at her, incredulous. She didn’t get it? How in fuck’s sake didn’t she get it? I rolled my eyes and glanced at the brunette, who clearly hadn’t gotten it either. She winked at me. “Want to buy me a drink?” Already sick of the place, I shook my head but handed her my nearly full one. “I’m out of here,” I said to Josh, who looked appalled. “You’re kidding me.” I wasn’t kidding in the least. “You stay. Have fun. Not my thing tonight.” I could tell he wanted to fight me, convince me to stay, but then both women hooked a hand through his arms, their enormous breasts pressing against him. He lifted a brow, the smirk returning. “You sure? I’m happy to share.” I tossed some bills down on the table. “Yeah, I’m sure. Have fun.” He broke away from the girls, and the man hug we gave each other was as natural as breathing. “Be careful, old man,” he said, even though he was officially fifty-two days older than me. But he was right, I was acting like the elderly at the moment. And I didn’t care. I just wanted out of here. Out of this city. This country. I needed to be somewhere I could breathe. I nodded to the girls, who were already wrapping themselves back around my friend. “You be careful too.” He winked, and I shook my head at the cheesy ass grin on his face, knowing it would be the last time I saw it for a while. Escaping the club wasn’t an easy feat as I navigated the crowd, and it felt good to inhale a lungful of New York’s questionably fresh air. It was still hot and sticky, and I considered calling a cab but decided to walk the blocks back to the hotel. Walk off the energy that seemed to be vibrating through me. I’d gone several blocks by the time the tension inside me began to release. I shook out my shoulders, releasing it even further. When I was only a couple blocks to my hotel, I heard jazz music pouring from a bar. Good jazz, and it caught my attention. Glancing at my watch, I couldn’t believe it was only a little after ten in the evening. What the hell, maybe this old man could stay out a little longer after all.
Inside, the pub was exactly as I’d imagined it. Long, glistening bar top spanned the length of the dimly lit room while a couple dozen tables dotted a dance floor flanked by a five-piece band that was bringing a Benny Goodman classic to life. The place was three-quarters full, lively enough to lift your spirits without feeling crushed by the body heat of the place. I found a prime spot at the end of the bar and seated myself on the bolted down stool, glad no one was seated on the side of me, giving me room to stretch out my six-four frame. The old barkeep grinned and whipped a towel over his shoulder. “What’re you having tonight?” I checked the tap, happy with the unusual selections. “I’ll try the Mosaic Dream.” His grin grew wider. “Fine choice, my friend.” I watched him expertly pour the dark orange liquid, ending with a perfect one-inch head. I thanked him and opened a tab, sliding my AmEx Black across the gleaming wood. I liked it here. The gnawing sensation that had been sinking its teeth into me loosened and began to disappear. This was a place I fit in. A group of women at one of the tables began to yell. A tall blonde with a short crop of hair stood up, waving at someone near the door. And I saw her. She was dressed casually. Ripped jeans and a white loose-fitting, buttoned up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. I smiled. We were dressed nearly identically, down to the brown shoes, hers some type of pointy flats to my loafers. Her dark auburn hair was pulled back from her face, caught at the back of her neck in a low ponytail, exposing high cheekbones and full lips. It was her smile that caused my cock to twitch. A radiant smile that lit up a freckled face that was more interesting than classically beautiful, but I realized I was drawn to her more than any of her more glamorous friends. As her friends gathered her closer to their table, the blonde pulled her in for a tight hug. The redhead tossed her huge leather bag on the back of her chair and turned to hug another friend, giving me a good glimpse of her ass. It was perfect beneath the denim. And I was fucking staring. And I couldn’t stop. Still smiling, her tall friend said something to her, and she glanced around the bar, taking in the band. Then she turned and seemed to be considering the type of beer she wanted. See me, I willed her in my mind, needing to see her eyes. At first, her eyes swept past me, then snapped back to my face an instant later. My balls drew closer to my body as she swallowed hard. Time slowed as we stared at one another, and a low heat began building in my chest. Blue eyes, I thought, although I couldn’t be exactly sure in the dim light above her table that cast a shadow over her face. I desperately wanted to find out if I was right.
Lifting my glass in a silent toast, I smiled when she looked over her shoulder, checking behind her, no doubt wondering if I was looking at someone else. It’s you. Only you. She licked her lips as her eyes met mine again, confusion clouding her pretty features. Her friends regained her attention when they all jumped to their feet as the band transitioned to a cover of… what the hell? Get Lucky? Yes, that was the song. Pharrell and Daft Punk would be proud. I wasn’t the only man in the room eyeing the five women on the dance floor, but my eyes didn’t leave the riot of dark auburn curls swinging in contrast to her white shirt. They were having fun, and my mood lightened even more as I watched her laugh, the total joy expressed in her every movement. There was nothing seductive about her, but my cock was paying attention. Not just in response to her generous ass swaying side to side. She was so much more than that. She turned, and her eyes lifted to mine, then widened slightly to find me still watching her. Then she smiled. Just at me. For me. The exhaustion faded away. The tension. Everything. I stood and headed in her direction as she mouthed the words to the song. Get lucky. I sure as hell hoped so. But only with her.
CHAPTER THREE Scarlett
It was after ten o’clock, and I was exhausted but had promised Amy I’d drop by the bar for a few minutes at least. I showered in the women’s locker room at the hospital and pulled on the spare jeans and shirt I kept there for occasions just like this. She told me that the bar wasn’t fancy, so I didn’t need to run home and change into anything better. Besides, it was only for a few minutes, I kept telling myself. I needed sleep before I had to be on my feet for another twelve hours tomorrow. The minute I saw Amy’s face, I was glad I’d made the effort to come by. There was also Kim, Jana, and Tami rounding out the group, ladies I’d grown to adore. “The band is great,” I yelled over the noise, turning to take a look at the five-piece group on the little stage. I wasn’t ordinarily a fan of jazz, and it wasn’t something on my playlist, but listening to it in person always brought a new appreciation of the unpredictable jittery sounds that meshed together into something that simply made me happy. “I know,” Amy yelled back, her hips swaying side to side to a laid-back, bluesy rendition of a song I vaguely recognized but couldn’t name. “What do you want to drink?” I turned to the bar, looking to see what was on tap for tonight. It had been so long since I’d gone out I couldn’t even remember which one I liked. As I took in the room, I caught a glimpse of… whoa. A glimpse of him. Dark hair fell across a forehead I itched to stroke with my fingers, wanting to soothe the line of what looked like tension away. He sat on a stool beneath a soft light that gave me a good view of him. His eyes reminded me of a tiger and pierced me, pinned me to the floor where I stood. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. He was ruggedly handsome, with a raw sexuality that pulled at me in a way I’d never experienced before. He lifted his glass and smiled in my direction. Was he really looking at me? The part of my brain still able to process incoming data wasn’t certain at all. I looked over my shoulder, knowing I’d probably see some incredible-looking woman right behind me, and then I’d be a fool for thinking any man who looked like him would be interested in someone like me. Behind me, there was nothing but a couple of tables of men leering at Amy’s ass, which made me then wonder if it was my best friend Mr. Gorgeous was staring at. When I found the courage to look back at him, he was still smiling, and my toes curled in my shoes. I found a sudden need to press my thighs together, to sooth away the ache that was growing there. I was saved from more uncertainty when Jana jumped up, clapping her hands, a huge smile on her face. “I love this song,” she yelled and grabbed Tami’s arm, who then
grabbed Kim’s arm, who then grabbed Amy’s arm, who then grabbed mine. Soon, all five of us were on the dance floor, and I finally recognized the song and began to sing along to the familiar lyrics. “Get Lucky.” A shiver went through me as Mr. Gorgeous stood and headed in my direction, his lion’s eyes still penetrating me as I mouthed the lyrics. I wanted to be up till the sun. With him. I wanted to have fun. With him. And god yes, I wanted to get lucky. Which was a terrifying thought. I didn’t do lucky. Especially within five seconds of meeting a man. But I wanted lucky now. I wanted it with every breath in my body. “Hi.” I realized I’d stopped moving as he approached and was just standing like a dork in the middle of the dance floor. I was jolted from behind, and from the height of the ass on my back I knew it had to be Amy, who was giving me a little push in his direction. He reached out, his hands circling my arms to steady me from her bump. I licked my suddenly dry lips. “Hi. We’re twins.” Like me, he was in jeans and a white button up, looking similar even down to the brown shoes. “Yeah,” he said, a smile curling up one side of his mouth. “Fraternal or identical?” I laughed, even while feeling a stab of pain at the memory of my twin, but shook it away as we just stood there while the music and people faded. He smiled and dropped one hand from my arm and offered it into the space between us. I took it, my fingers curling around his warm palm. He smiled wider, making me smile too, and the moment was like a dream as he pulled me into a swaying dance. He was a head taller than me, forcing me to crane my neck to look at him, making me feel petite and small, even though I measured out at an even five-seven. His thumb made little circles on my back as we moved to the music, the span of his hand nearly taking up my entire lower back. “Why me?” I hadn’t meant to ask the question, but since it had escaped, I wanted the answer. His golden eyes searched my face, the smile falling away from his lips. “I don’t know.” I liked that he told me the truth. I liked that he appeared as stunned by our immediate
connection as I was. I liked his face. I liked the smell of the beer on his breath, the light tones of some body wash on his skin. I liked the calluses on the hand holding mine, the way it engulfed my fingers. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked and motioned his head toward the bar after the next song ended and we drew apart to clap for the band, who announced they were taking a short break. I licked my lips again, my core squeezing as his eyes fell to my mouth to follow the movement. “I’d like that very much.” This was a dream, I thought as I turned to find Amy and let her know where I was going. She was grinning big, two thumbs up in the air. Go, she mouthed with a wink. Still holding my hand, he led me to the bar where he’d been sitting before, waiting until I was seated before reclaiming his stool, turning until he was facing me, his long legs brushing mine. “What do you want?” You. I eyed his beer. “What’s that?” He pushed it toward me. “Mosaic Dream.” I wrinkled my nose. “It looks hoppy.” He laughed, a deep rumbling sound that vibrated through my chest. “It is. Want to try? It has an unusual blend of fruits. Citrus. Pineapple, maybe some mango.” That caught my attention. “I love mangos. The taste of course, but I also love the experience of eating them. The attention to detail needed to get all the flesh from the pit. The messiness. The…” I trailed off, realizing I sounded like a true dork. He was smiling, little crinkle lines at the corners of his eyes deepening the effect. He really was handsome. Older. In his early to middle thirties, I would guess. I turned more fully on the stool until I was facing him, my knees pressed inside his thighs, so close to his… Very slowly, he lifted a hand in my direction, but it stopped between us in a shaking hands gesture. Automatically, I pressed my palm against his, and I realized he was about to introduce himself. “I’m—” “Shhh,” I shushed quickly, interrupting him, and he gave me a confused look. I felt the blush creep up my cheeks and rushed to explain myself. “Forgive me if this sounds really stupid, but things like this don’t ever happen to me. It feels like a dream, and I realize I really like the fantasy feel of having you pay attention to me.” The grin was back, curling up just one side of his mouth, transforming his handsome face into a much younger one. “Do you like fantasies?” My insides curled. “Yes. I often find them more palatable than real life.” He nodded, growing more serious. “I understand and can relate. I’m actually leaving tomorrow morning to escape reality for a while.” My stomach squeezed again, but this time for a different reason. He was leaving.
Better to keep this encounter in the fantasy realm then. “Leaving New York?” He lifted his beer, took a long sip, and handed it to me. I searched his ring finger for any hint of a white line, but didn’t see one. Good. At least he wasn’t married, from what I could tell. “Leaving the States. For a year at least, maybe longer.” The truth again. He was letting me know that he was unavailable after tonight. Or maybe it was a lie and he used the smooth line on all the women he picked up and wanted gone by morning. Searching his amber eyes, I realized I didn’t care. I looked down at the beer and lifted it to my nose, inhaling deeply. It immediately wrinkled, and he laughed. “Told you it was hoppy. Can I get you something lighter?” Feeling brave, I went ahead and lifted it to my lips. Took a sip. Then shivered, thrusting it back at him. It was super hoppy, but he was right, I also tasted the fruit in the background. And grass? “Yes, something lighter please, by a lot.” My mystery stranger ordered me something that wasn’t Michelob Light, which was my normal beer choice, and I was pleasantly surprised at how pale it was. I took a sip, then another. “Much better.” He laughed and picked up his glass. “To fantasies turning into amazing realities.” I tapped my glass to his, my toes curling again. He was so sexual, in a raw, primal way. I was drawn to him. Comfortable with him. This was new. I’d had boyfriends before, one for as long as a year, most as short as a few months. I had a strict five-date rule before I had sex with a guy, thinking three dates just wasn’t enough to get past the I’m on my best behavior persona. Plus, if a guy didn’t have the patience to wait, I knew he wouldn’t have the patience for other important things in my life. Things like long drives and hikes into the mountains, or spending hours forming clay bowls on my little potter’s wheel. Five dates seemed to be the magic number to determine if our interests aligned. Until now. He licked a bit of foam from his upper lip, and his tongue made me jealous. I wanted to do that for him, then chew on that bottom lip for a while. The man, in the span of just a few minutes, was making me feel beautiful, and that knowledge made me feel powerful. I liked the fantasy my mystery stranger had woven around me. Liked the way he looked at me. The way his hand kept reaching for mine. “Call me Delilah.” He raised a brow, the right side of his mouth quirking up. “Delilah, huh? Are you going to be my downfall? Shall I skip the struggle and just shave my head now?” I laughed, enjoying the banter between us, the ease in which it was delivered. Reaching up, I flicked the dark strands back from his forehead. “I like your hair, so you can keep it. What should I call you?” He didn’t hesitate. “Samson, of course.” I grinned. “Is it bad that we’re using Biblical names for a hookup? Does that automatically send us to hell?”
He looked at me curiously, a high level of intelligence behind those incredible amber eyes. “Do you believe in hell?” My grin faded as we launched into a discussion so unexpected. Wasn’t religion, or lack of it, one of the things you avoided talking about in polite company? “I don’t know. Until I’ve seen something with my own eyes, I find it difficult to believe it’s real.” I found myself growing wistful. “Although I have to admit that the idea of having a heaven filled with angelic loved ones waiting on the other side is appealing. What about you?” He looked down into his beer again, the line on his forehead reappearing. “I feel the same, although I sometimes wonder if hell could be much worse than the horrors so many people often experience on earth.” I nodded, thinking of the encephalitis baby from earlier today, born with a seriously misshapen head. How the parents mourned the little one, kissing him as if he was the most beautiful child ever born. “Why so sad?” I blinked at Samson, and just thinking of his name made me smile. “Sorry, just had a difficult day at work.” Curiosity sparked in his gaze again. “What do you do?” I smiled and popped an imaginary balloon with my finger. “Hey now. Are you trying to spoil my fantasy here?” He took my hand, turned it over, and traced a finger over my palm. “So, what does Delilah do for a living?” I had to think about it for a moment. I didn’t remember wanting anything other than to be a nurse and deliver babies. Of course, that dream had almost been hijacked when I was sixteen and had vowed to become a wedding planner. I remembered buying all the bridal books and begging my aunt to let me use the sheer curtains on the farmhouse windows as a veil. “Delilah is a wedding planner.” My hand thunked into my lap as Samson let go of me and raised his hands as if in surrender. It made me laugh, and I slapped at his thigh, batting my lashes as I got into my role. “I deliver the dreams of brides everywhere.” Deliver. Had to get that in there somewhere. Samson took a long drink of his beer. “Yeah, dreams until the seven-year itch starts itching and divorce lawyers come knocking on their door.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Cynical much?” He made a “ha” sound, then shook his head and grinned. “Actually, not really. My parents had their fortieth anniversary not long ago. I have evidence that marriage can work.” He made a face, a comical-looking twist of his lips. “Why exactly are we talking about marriage?” I fluttered my lashes. “Why, Samson, are you falling under my spell already?”
“Yes.” There had been no hesitation. No grin. Just a small dilation of his pupils that seemed to darken his eyes, and my heart began to thud in my chest. He leaned closer and lifted a hand to my face, but instead of touching my cheek, he went for the ponytail holder at the nape of my neck. Very gently, he pulled it down the length, then smiled as my hair exploded into a mass of curls around my face. “It’s the exact same color as your freckles,” he said, tucking a strand behind my ear. It was such an unexpected comment, an observation that felt oddly intimate, then his hand was at my face, cupping my cheek. I leaned into the warmth. The strength. Emotions I’d never experienced poured through me at the gentle touch. “They were called deformities today.” The universe was robbed of all oxygen as he shook his head, leaned forward, and pressed his lips to my right cheek, then the left cheek, then the very tip of my nose. “Will you come to my room?” His room. Not his house, or apartment. His room. A hotel. Because he was leaving the United States tomorrow, and would be gone for at least a year. Or so he said. I didn’t know his name — by my choice. I didn’t know his occupation — also by my choice. I knew nothing about him — again, by my choice. On top of all that, if I went with him, I’d be betraying my very clear and established five-date rule. I didn’t care. Those three words were the perfect summary of how I felt about all the reasons I shouldn’t be alone with this stranger. But I still didn’t care. I wanted this more than anything I’d wanted in… since I was eight. “Yes.” The relief I saw in his eyes was further proof that this was right. One night. I would give myself that willingly. I’d rather live in regret for the rest of my life for going with him than to live it in regret wishing I had. “I need to tell my friends.” He nodded, my hand trapped between his two warm ones, his thumbs rubbing circles on my skin. “Tell them I don’t plan to have you home by midnight.” I smiled. “I hope not, but I do have to be gone by six in the morning.” “Early morning wedding?” I loved the teasing sound of his tone. “Exactly.” “I have to be at the airport by five-thirty, so…” I glanced at my watch. “So… we better hurry.” He leaned forward, his lips coming to my ear. “Yes. Because I don’t want to be
rushed.” The butterflies that had begun fluttering in my stomach moments before multiplied, their wings causing a tornado to whirl through my system. “I’ll be right back.” On shaky legs, I walked to the table where my friends were sitting, trying not to grin like a fool as they all gaped at me, Amy fluttering a hand in front of her face. I grabbed my bag, attempting my best look of nonchalance. “I’ll be heading out now.” Amy continued to gape at me. “You slut!” Then, she clapped her hands together and jumped up to give me a hug. “It’s about time.” She peeked around me at my mystery man at the bar. “And you got a winner, my friend. Like seriously, Olympic champion all-star.” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you trust him? Does he trigger any psycho buttons? He seems too perfect.” Before I could answer, I was being dragged behind her six-foot frame. “Amy,” I hissed, but she had a good hold on my wrist. “Stop. You’re embarrassing me.” She didn’t stop until she was face-to-face with the man I was about to go home — hotel — with. With her three-inch platforms, she was nearly eye to eye with him. “Hi, I’m Amy. And you are?” His eyes slid to me with a grin. “Samson. Nice to meet you, Amy.” Amy’s brows drew together but she didn’t comment on the name. “And where are you taking my friend?” “The Hyatt down the street.” Amy’s fists came down on her hips. “A hotel. You are dragging the most wonderful human being on the planet to a hotel?” A high school teacher, Amy could be pretty scary at times. This was one of those times. She didn’t seem to affect him in the least. “Well, Amy. That’s where I’m staying so I can catch an early flight tomorrow, so it’s there or…” he patted the bar beside him, “this.” My mouth fell open, then I forced my lips shut before I laughed at Amy’s expression. Then she laughed too, seeing the humor in it all. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay, then. Just know that I have her on my Find My iPhone app, so don’t go dumping her into the Hudson, got it?” Samson nodded solemnly. “I promise. Any other instructions?” “Feed her. She probably hasn’t had anything to eat besides peanut butter crackers all day.” She knew me so well. He nodded. “Check. Anything else?” Amy looked at me, her eyes softening. “Be good to her. She really is the most wonderful human being on the entire planet.” The smile was back and his fingers linked with mine as he smiled down at me. My
insides curled. My toes curled. My lips curled into a responding smile. “That’s an easy promise to keep.”
CHAPTER FOUR Langston
I’d never been so nervous as I walked down the dark sidewalk with my mystery woman by my side. Sure, I’d had sex with women without knowing their names before. More than once. But this was different. This was the most wonderful human being on the entire planet. This was someone special. Adorable. Sweet. Precious. Someone I liked. Someone I had an immediate chemical attraction to. And I had one night with her. I normally went for the Amys of the world. Ballsy. Beautiful. Bold. Even though I didn’t think the woman holding my hand was timid in the least, there was something vulnerable about her too. Not weak. Cautious, maybe? But also brave. Even if her palm was sweating against mine. “Would it be crossing our fantasy line to ask you if you’ve always lived in New York?” I asked after a block of silence. I liked her voice and wanted to hear more of it, especially now that she didn’t have to raise it above the music and sounds of the bar. Her hand tightened on mine, and I looked down at her profile. Her lips had grown tight and I wasn’t sure what that meant. Had I crossed the fantasy line, or was I dredging up bad memories? It was hard to tell. “My first eight years were spent here, then I lived on a farm up north. Got a scholarship and went to college at…” she smiled, realizing she’d almost slipped, “here in the city. I loved the hustle and bustle, so I stayed. Got a job. That pretty much brings us to now. What about you?” “My family is from here, but I’ve been roaming the country for a couple years now.” “And now you’re getting ready to roam the world?” she asked, a small smile playing at her lips. “That sounds so exciting. I’ve never left New York State. Well, except to go to New Jersey, but that doesn’t count. I don’t even have a passport. I thought about having one made, just in case something exciting came along.” She lifted a shoulder. “Maybe I will someday.” “You should.” I tried to picture her in a tent in Maiduguri and could actually see her there. “You never know what surprises are in store for you.” Tugging her closer, I released her hand and wrapped an arm over her shoulder, pulling her against my side. I smiled when her arm inched around my waist, her thumb hooking into the waistband of my jeans. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, like we’d done this very thing a thousand times. Smells escaping a nearby restaurant reminded me of my promise to her friend. “Have
you really only had peanut butter crackers all day?” “Yep. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner of champions,” she quipped and flattened a hand to her stomach. Had it growled? I stopped and waited until she turned to me, a quizzical expression on her face. She was so freaking… pure. Not as in innocent. More like transparent, and I could read every movement in her lovely face. Had I not been leaving tomorrow, this woman would have been a liability to my carefully crafted plans. Had I not already signed the commitment to Doctors Beyond Borders, had I not already known how badly I was needed in the field… I might be tempted to stay and get to know her better. “What’s wrong?” she asked as a pedestrian cursed and stepped around us. I squeezed her fingers still linked in mine, unsure of what to say. Unsure what was going on with my insides. “I’m not sure.” She licked her lips and took a step closer to me, concern so very clear in her eyes. Then she took another step. Then she was in my arms, her hands sliding around my waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. “If you’ve changed your mind… we, um. I can go back to my friends.” That would be smart. It would be best if she went her way and I went mine, because I had a feeling that this night might change everything. I closed my eyes and pictured her walking away, imagined never seeing how many other freckles she possessed. Very slowly, I threaded my fingers through the mass of curls around her face, then lowered my head. When our lips touched, I was lost. And I had my answer. I had to know. I had to feel her under my hands. I had to watch her face as our bodies connected for the first, and last, time. I’d kissed many women, but none of them had ever felt like this. So sweet, but with an undisguised lust swirling just below the surface, like a monster demanding to be fed. The harder I kissed her, the harder she kissed back. My tongue swept into her mouth, and she let out a tiny, incredibly sexy moan, her fingers clutching at my shirt. I wanted her with a desperation that seemed primal. My cock throbbed with the need to sink inside of her and claim her as mine, to give her the kind of pleasure she’d never experienced before and never would again. My hands fisted tighter into her hair, and I turned her head for a different angle while pulling her flush against my chest. Our mouths danced, our tongues tangling as the distant sound of passing people and cars faded away. All I could hear was my heartbeat, my blood simmering in my veins, heating me from the inside out as my need for her grew to a painful constriction. “Please…” I breathed in the word she whispered against my lips. I knew what she was begging for. I wanted it too. Not here. Not like this. With all the willpower I’d ever needed in my life, I let her go and took a step back. Tugging the tail of my shirt from my jeans, I let it fall over the bulge that I knew wouldn’t be going away anytime soon. She smiled, understanding my dilemma, and seeming to glory in the fact that she was the cause.
“You’re a wicked temptress, Delilah,” I said before kissing her again, hard. “How many other men have you driven to the edge of madness?” Those blue eyes shone in the lights of the street as I took her hand and practically dragged her the next block and through the entrance of the hotel, not giving her the chance to answer. In the elevator, I kissed her again, our tongues merging and melting, the pace more frantic than the first kiss on the busy sidewalk. The ride up to the top floor took forever and an instant combined. I’d never seen this woman before tonight, but she felt so familiar. And a part of me wondered how I’d ever be strong enough to let her go. My freaking hands trembled as I stuck the keycard in the lock. They never trembled. They were always steady. I was a surgeon, for fuck’s sake. But they sure as hell were shaking now. When we were inside the room, I walked her backwards, pinning her against the door, then lifted her until she was eye level with me. She tossed her large leather bag to the side and didn’t seem to mind when it toppled over, spilling her things over the floor. “You’re driving me crazy,” I said and nuzzled my nose against her face, forcing her head to the side so I could glide my teeth down her neck, feel her pulse jumping against my lips. There should have been some awkwardness, some bumping of noses, some miscues and misjudgments, but there were none. We worked in a perfect rhythm. She moaned and wrapped her legs around my waist, her center hot against my stomach, her desire practically radiating through our clothes. Her fingers moved up to my hair where she sank her fingers in, holding on. “So good,” she moaned as I retraced the path up her throat and nibbled my way across her chin. She was breathing hard as I captured her lips, so soft and open, and I felt my tenuous grasp on control slipping as her tongue came forward to welcome mine. “I fucking want you,” I said against her mouth, then caught her plump lower lip between my teeth. I tugged, and she shuddered as I sucked it hard. She ground into me, her sex moving up and down my abs, and I pulled her tighter, giving her more friction as my mouth devoured hers. Breaking away only long enough for both of us to catch our breath, she shuddered again, her exhales warm against my face. Then she smiled, lighting up the universe, and lifted my hand until it covered her breast. Her heart was beating wildly under my palm. “You’re driving me crazy too.” I growled, and with a rip, buttons flew as her shirt parted and her soft skin was exposed to my gaze. She gasped, then moaned as my lips pressed to where her heart beat, then gasped again, as I yanked down the cups of her bra to expose her nipples to my teeth. Her hands pulled my hair as I sucked one hard bud deep, listening to the incredibly sexy little sounds she made. She cried out as I gave her what she wanted, biting into her flesh, and pulling her nipple deep into my mouth, sucking until she wailed. I needed both hands on her. I needed more skin exposed, so I walked us into the bedroom of the suite. Pulling back the thick comforter, I laid her on the snowy white sheets, following her down. I knew I was heavy for her small frame and tried to lift off her, but she pulled me back down, sighing as she took my full weight, wrapping her arms
and legs around me, holding me close. A wave of tenderness washed over me at her desperation for me, her teeth nipping my jaw. I shook it away and raised up on my elbows, looking down at her swollen mouth, the clear blue eyes filled with desire. “Please,” she whispered and lifted her hips, grinding her denim-clad pussy into my denim-clad cock. I gave her what she needed, pressure, grinding down, introducing our sexes through our clothes. “Please what?” Her fingers answered the question as they unbuttoned my shirt, not ripping as I had done to hers. Then she pushed it from my shoulders, and I rose up to my knees and tossed it off the bed before kicking off my shoes. She rose too, her eyes widening as her fingers traced the extensive tattoo that started over my heart and sprawled over my shoulder and down my arm. She looked mesmerized as she traced the black ink examined the dragon, the fire, the tree of life buried in the chaos. Caged animals lost in the tangle of black. The angel hidden in the confusion. Women had reacted before, of course. I was a fairly clean-cut guy, so finding the real me underneath often came as a surprise. But no one had ever gone beyond a “nice tats” response. No one had ever seen me in them. She was seeing me, and it didn’t frighten her, disgust her. “You’re a very complex man,” she whispered as she pressed her lips to my chest, her fingers walking down my abs to the button of my jeans. The zipper hissed down while I shoved the ruined shirt from her shoulders. “Yes.” Her understanding of me. Her knowing of me was both terrifying and freeing at once. People didn’t try to know me. Women wanted what I had. Men kept their distance unless they thought I could do something for them. “You seem so… lonely.” Lonely. I’d never considered myself as such. I had a busy life. I worked from dawn until dusk. I was respectful of my colleagues, didn’t hit on the nurses, didn’t pull ego trips on my patients. I was… Lonely. “I’m not lonely right now.” Something in her blue eyes flared and a small smile curled up the right side of her mouth. The look was pure seduction, and I fell into its snare. My balls were burning more severely now, my cock pulsing in my pants. Need drove me, making me rough as I ripped the bra straps down her arms, then pushed her back down on the bed, following her down to kiss the fuck out of her for a while. I loved kissing her. It was something that meant very little to me in the past. It was a part of the act of sex, nothing more. But I couldn’t get enough of her mouth. Her tongue. The teeth that nipped at me. And god, the sounds she made. The way her hands ran
through my hair. “I love your freckles.” She seemed surprised. “Thank you. I hated them when I was younger, but I kind of like them now.” Her eyes glistened in the soft light of the room as I kissed across her cheek and down her jaw. There was a smattering of freckles on her shoulders too, her chest, and I sat up, straddling her to trail a finger from one to the next, playing connect the dots over her soft skin. As eager as I was to be in her a few minutes ago, I wanted to slow down now, take my time unwrapping what was becoming my favorite package. “What else to you hate?” I asked, enjoying just talking to her, hearing her voice. She licked her lips. “Letting people down. What do you hate?” I already knew my answer. “The idea of being tied down.” She seemed to understand. “So, you’re a free spirit? That makes me a little jealous.” As I unbuttoned her jeans and hooked my fingers in the waistband, I noticed her tattoo for the first time. High on her right side, just below the ribcage was a tree of life. It was an odd placement but beautifully done, the dark ink a strong contrast to her pale skin. “I think you are more free-spirited than you realize.” Tracing it with my finger, I felt the scar before I realized what it was. In the bark of the tree, a long, jagged scar easily six inches in length was hidden in the trunk. For some reason, the scar angered me as I thought of how such a wound must have felt. When I lowered my head to trace the scar with my tongue, she sat up, forcing me away from it, the pain in her eyes reflecting the hurt of long ago. “Don’t. Please.” I’d found this strong woman’s kryptonite, but I wouldn’t use it against her. I would leave it alone. Make her forget. Sinking my hands in those wild curls, I pulled her head toward me and took her mouth again, forcing her back onto the sheets. I wanted to take her thoughts away from pain and lead her back down the road to only pleasure. “You have some powerful magic inside you,” I whispered against her lips. “Mighty powerful.” She grinned, relaxing under me again. She lifted her hips, grinding her sex into mine. “Hocus-pocus. Show me your magic wand.” I laughed, a throw my head back kind of laugh and collapsed down onto her. She was adorable in every possible way. “You aren’t Delilah. You’re Samantha. Bewitching.” She wiggled her nose, or tried to at least, and I kissed the tip of it, unable to believe I hadn’t fucked her twice already. This was new. Laughing during sex. Taking my time. I liked it, feeling comfortable enough with anyone to not have an agenda, let the feelings take us wherever they went. Wanting to explore some more, I moved down her body, licking her skin, sucking on
her nipples. Trailing my tongue down the soft curve of her stomach, I enjoyed the soft vanilla fragrance that reminded me of cookies baking in the kitchen. I was careful to avoid the scar as I pulled the jeans down her hips, revealing cotton boy shorts in the softest of blue. Inch by inch, her pale flesh was revealed until all that was left was that sweet bit of material between her legs. Her fingers clutched at the bedsheets as I trailed my fingers up her legs after tossing her jeans to the floor. “Sorry, nothing sexy there,” she said, indicating the plain underwear, then squealed when I flipped her over and trailed my tongue up the strong line of her hamstring. She couldn’t have been more wrong. They were sexy as hell, clinging to an ass that was as good as the jeans had advertised. “They’re perfect,” I said as I kissed her ass cheeks before working my tongue up each vertebra, tracing the ladder of each bone one at a time. When I reached her neck, she shivered as I found a sensitive place there, scraping it with my teeth. “You’re perfect. So very beautiful.” I kissed her earlobe, trailing my hands up her arms until our fingers linked. “I’m going to remove your panties now, spread you open. I want to see every part of you.” She shivered again, hips pulsing beneath me. “Then I want to taste you, fuck you with my tongue, my fingers. I want to watch your face as you come.” She was breathing hard. So was I as I moved off her and flipped her onto her back. Her nipples were like pebbles, her chest heaving as I slipped my fingers under the waistband of the panties. Pulling down, I smiled. My little witch liked it bare. Well, almost. Just a thin strip of auburn curls marred the surface of her perfect skin. Such a nice surprise. “Glad I waxed,” she said with a little embarrassed laugh, her cheeks flaming as I pushed her legs farther apart. I trailed a finger up her slit, felt the wetness there. “I love how smooth and soft you are.” Then I smirked, trailing a thumb over the nearly slick mound. “I’m glad you left a little. I’ve been really curious to know if that red hair is natural.” The blush trailed down across her chest and she attempted to close her thighs, but I wouldn’t let her, only spread her wider. “As you can see, it is, thank you very much. I just like the clean feel of… ohhh.” She bucked and I held her hips down as my tongue found her clit, circling the tight bud before I settled more comfortably between her legs and moved lower. She cried out and twisted on the bed, but I held on, keeping her still. The need was back, but not to fuck this time. The need was to devour. It had been a while since I’d gone down on a woman, especially the kinds I picked up in bars. This woman was different. I didn’t just want to taste her. I needed it. Craved it. And I knew she wasn’t like the others. Dragging a finger up through her honey-slick folds, I watched the butterfly of her sex open before me. With my thumbs, I spread her swollen flesh, watched it open one layer at a time. She was glistening, her desire for me evident. Ready for me. But not yet. I inhaled, breathing in her scent as I tasted her unique flavor. Salty. Sweet. The soft
mewling that came from her throat made her even sweeter as I plunged my tongue inside her to feast. “Oh god, please.” She lifted her hips and her fingers sank into my hair, twisting into the strands as she ground into my face. I looked up at her, over the mound of her sex. She licked her lips, her pupils blown as I blew cool air on her swollen labia. Her eyes closed, but I waited until they opened again to continue. I wanted her to watch me give her what she needed. In one quick movement, I ran my tongue up her slit before capturing her clit between my teeth. Her eyes rolled back, and she cried out, her fingers pulling my hair even harder as I sucked the tight bundle of nerves into my mouth, pulsing it with my tongue. Letting go, I retraced my path, plunging my tongue deep inside her sweetness. She twisted, trying to break away from the overwhelming sensation. Her hips bucked violently, but I held her down, invading her again, pumping my tongue in and out of her hot flesh, licking inside her deeply. She wailed when I added a finger, bucked when I added a second. I chased her up the bed as she tried to twist away from the intense pleasure I was intent on giving her. She came, screaming through the release as her tight body clamped down on my fingers, her thighs closing around my head. I didn’t let up, didn’t let her rest. She was so tight. So hot. It made me crazy, and I added another finger, scissoring them to make her ready for me. She was so small, I worried I might hurt her if I wasn’t careful. I worked her, twisting my fingers, pulsing them in and out of her with increasing speed. Her breath was ragged, the air ripping out of her lungs as I forced her closer and closer to the edge again. When she flew, it was beautiful, her eyes locked onto mine, her mouth opened in a scream that didn’t escape her throat. I slowed my movement, licking her softly as her body trembled, waited for her to stop gasping before running my tongue up her stomach, over a nipple, and up to her mouth. “Taste how sweet you are.” She was greedy, sucking on my tongue, licking my lips, her movements frenzied. Then she was pushing at my chest, her blue eyes blazing with desire. “I want you,” she panted, pulling at my jeans, her fingers fumbling to push them down over my raging erection. Rolling from the bed, I made quick work of the jeans and reached into my open duffle bag for a box of condoms, pulling one out before tossing an entire strip onto the sheets. My little witch scooted to the side of the bed, her fingers in the waist of my boxer briefs. She pulled them down, her greedy tongue already licking away the drop of pre-cum at the tip. There was no tease, no finesse, only pure desire as she sucked on the head. I hissed as her lips took me in, her tongue dipping into the tip, her teeth scraping the shaft as she tried to take me into her throat. I watched her mouth stretch wide, trying to take more of me until her eyes began to water. I wrapped her hair around my hand and began pulsing in and out in short strokes before pulling out, letting her breathe.
“More,” she gasped and licked her lips. Fuck, she was sexy as hell as I fed her, watched her swallow even more that time. Her fingers circled the few inches she couldn’t take, and I gritted my teeth, refusing to come as she began pumping me with her fist. “Stop. I need you to stop.” She didn’t listen, just sucked and stroked, driving me wild. I was at the edge, but I didn’t want to be there this way. I wanted to be inside her, feeling those tight walls clamp down around me. I wanted my face only inches from hers when I watched her come. Using her hair as leverage, I forced her to her feet, then pulled her head back until I took her mouth. “I’m going to fuck you now,” I growled against her lips and shoved her backwards, watching her eyes open wide in surprise as she bounced on the bed. She quickly recovered, a sexy grin spreading on her face. Oh yeah. She was ready for me. Making quick work of the condom, I rolled it on before crawling back between her legs, forcing them wider apart with my knees. “Tell me you still want this,” I said, my face inches from hers. She didn’t hesitate. “I want this.” And with one solid stroke, I plunged. God, it was so good, better than even her mouth. It was the wet, the warmth, the tightness — the trifecta of pleasure. And I was lost.
CHAPTER FIVE Scarlett
I was lost. Lost in him. Lost to the passion. Lost to the experience of losing control of my body so completely. I was making sounds I didn’t know I could make, feeling things I didn’t know I could feel, and when he plunged inside me, our bodies connecting for the first time, I surrendered to it all. To everything. To him. “So good,” he growled against my mouth, his eyes boring into mine as he hilted to the end of me. I arched against the burn of being stretched by his thick cock but didn’t close my eyes as my body absorbed him fully. When he was balls deep, he took my wrists in his hands, holding them over my head, pinning my arms to the bed. My legs shook as pain and pleasure coursed through me, in the best possible way. I was at his mercy. Bound by him. To him. He rolled his hips, withdrawing just enough that I felt the loss of him before he speared into me again in a soul-shattering thrust. “I don’t know if I can be gentle with you right now, so if I hurt you or you need me to stop, tell me. Promise that you will.” He looked so serious, and I ached to have my hands released so I could sooth the line on his forehead away. “I promise.” There was a hard edge to my hunger, so I didn’t know if that was a promise I could keep. I wanted whatever he could give me, wanted to feel it tomorrow and the day after. A deep, insatiable need washed over my body, battering me like waves against the rocky outline of the shore. I loved it. I loved the way my breasts rocked on my chest as each violent thrust vibrated through me. I loved the ache in my hips as his spread me wide. Loved the ache in my thighs as they clamped around him. Loved everything but being bound and unable to feel his skin under my fingers. “Let me go. Let me touch you.” The words were pants against his mouth, and he let go of my wrists, grabbing my hair instead. He pulled, and I arched into the pain. Arched into the connection of our bodies, even as I pulled his mouth down for another kiss. I keened, my body tightening as he pushed me toward another cliff. “That’s right, baby. Feel me inside you, feel how hard you make me, and let it go. I want to make you come again. I want to watch your face, feel you squeeze my cock with your sweet, tight pussy.” I’d never had a lover who talked this way before, whose eyes bored into me so intently. It was sexy, his voice in rhyme to the sounds of our bodies slapping together.
“Come, you little witch.” He drove into me harder, deeper, faster. “And don’t you fucking close your eyes because I want to see.” I was being wound around his words, my body tightening around his seduction, then I was there, jumping, falling, flying through space. My vision dimmed, but I didn’t close my eyes, didn’t stop letting him see what he did to me. He growled, and his lips clamped onto mine. As if the kiss gave him a new source of energy, he pounded, drove into me even harder. Without warning, he pulled out, and before I could even vocalize the loss, he flipped me over and pulled my hips up. His mouth was on me again, tongue spearing down the line of my ass, then lower, soothing the sting from his rough penetration. I gripped the sheets and pushed back into his face. Wanting more. Needing more. He gave it with no hesitation. Then his cock was back, slamming into me so hard I scooted forward a couple inches on the bed. I braced and pushed back against him, wanting more. He gripped my hips, slapping against me so hard it sounded like thunderclaps echoing through the room, one hand moving to my neck to hold me down. He thrust into me mercilessly, until I was nearly crying with the intensity of it all as he forced me from one climax into another. It was insane. Wild. Primitive. My only wish was that I could see his face. It was a surprise when his thumb slipped into my ass, ratcheting my pain and pleasure threshold up a notch or three. I was so very full, so battered from the intensity of his lovemaking. No, his fucking. Yes. This was fucking. He let go of my neck, his hand wrapping around my hip until his fingers found my clitoris. I wailed, a sound I didn’t recognize as pain and pleasure warred for dominance, both of them winning. His breathing changed, and it was like I could feel him grow close to his own release. His cock thickened more, spreading me, burning me. Every sense was alive. Sight. Touch. Taste. Sound. Smell. The scent of our sex filling the room, the hiss of our breaths. His curse when he finally allowed himself to come. My cry that followed. I collapsed onto the bed, then mourned the loss of him when he pulled out of me and rolled onto his back, his breath coming in great gasping pants. “I thought you were going to kill me,” he said, looking at me, a beautiful grin on his face. I tried to say something in return, but little more than a breathless sound escaped my throat as I rolled onto my side to face him. His fingers linked with mine as we simply gazed at each other, our bodies cooling, growing still. “That was amazing,” I said, and no truer words had ever been said in the history of the universe. “I didn’t know sex could be like that.” He grinned. “Yeah. What we just did was special.” Happiness filled my heart. “Really?” The word had a funny little squeak at the end, but I was so delighted that I wasn’t the only one who thought so. He laughed and rolled to face me, grimaced, and looked down. I looked down too,
seeing that he’d rolled onto the used condom. Picking it up, he tied it off and tossed it toward the trash can by the bed. “I’m surprised that thing isn’t in shreds.” “Are you implying that my vagina has teeth?” He laughed. “Not at all. It’s more like fangs.” He looked down at his chest where there were long red marks from my nails. “And you have claws. How did you do all this with such short nails?” “Sorry.” God, that grin. “No, you’re not. Sorry doesn’t equal smiling like a maniac.” And I was. My cheeks were actually starting to hurt from smiling so much. “I think you bring out the maniac in me.” His eyes searched my face. “So, you’re a mix of Delilah and Samantha. Who else dwells behind those freckles?” My stomach growled. Loudly. I laughed and pressed my hand to it, feeling my face growing warm. “Apparently, I do have a monster lurking in me, but unfortunately, I haven’t named it yet.” He rose to his elbow. “I did promise my friend that I’d feed you. I’ll call up room service if you’ll tell me what you want.” My answer was immediate. “Pancakes.” He lifted a brow. “Pancakes, huh? Buttermilk or chocolate chip?” I had to give that question some thought. “Buttermilk, with warm maple syrup and strawberries on the side.” He kissed the tip of my nose before rolling off the bed. I watched his tight ass cross the room, not even a sliver of embarrassment as he walked into the bathroom. A minute later, there was a flush, then… yes… he was washing his hands. A man I could really fall in love with. I jerked up and yanked the sheet up with me. Stupid thinking on my part. There would be no love because there would be no man in… I glanced at the bedside clock. Holy crap. Less than three hours. We had been screwing around, literally, for over two hours. Two amazing hours I’d never forget. The bathroom door opened, and he walked back into the bedroom, wearing a pair of boxers, the loose ones this time, not the tight athletic ones that showed every curve of his fantastic cock. The cock I wanted again. Feeling suddenly shy, I pulled on the sheet some more, winding it around me as I stood from the bed. “You have a beautiful body,” he said, those eyes seeming to glow in the light, “there’s no need to cover it up.” He picked my white shirt up from the floor then made an oops face as another button fell off. He tossed it on a chair and picked up the one he’d worn earlier. “Here, you can have mine. It’s only fair since I busted yours up pretty good.” Giving him a grateful smile, I slipped it on my arms and buttoned it up. It fell almost
to my knees, and the already rolled up sleeves drooped nearly to my wrist bones. I rolled them up a few more times before heading to the bathroom while my mystery man called for food. As I washed my hands, I examined myself, expecting to find bruises and hickey marks all over my neck and shoulders. There was nothing. I was both disappointed and relieved to find that he’d been careful not to mark me, even when he appeared to have lost all control. I was sore and thought I’d probably be getting even more so, and my nipples burned as they rubbed against his shirt. But overall, I felt wonderfully sexy and sated, while also knowing I’d jump back in bed for more if he so much as crooked his little finger. Back in the bedroom, I didn’t find him there, so I headed into the living area of the suite to find him standing in front of a tall window, looking out into the night. He heard me coming and turned, the grin reappearing as he extended a hand to me. I took it and found myself standing in front of him, his chin on my head, his arms holding me tight. From the glow of the airport, I saw a plane take off, swooping up into the night, the blinking lights growing fainter. “Will you miss it?” I asked, watching the cars and pedestrians hustling around, even at this late hour. He kissed my hair. “Yes and no. Where I’m going is very different, and I’m sure there will be times when I miss the bustle of the city.” “In what ways is it different?” He made a sound, kind of like a snort. “In every way possible.” I craned my head to look up at him. “Is that a good thing?” He pressed his lips to my forehead. “Yes and no.” Turning in his arms, I pressed my cheek to his chest, close to where his incredible tattoo began. “Make up a story about where you’re going so I can file it away in my fantasy memory bank.” He chuckled, his hands rubbing up and down my back. “Let’s see. Samson is heading to a very poor region in, let’s say, Nigeria, where he walks on water and then turns it into wine.” I fake frowned up at him. “I think you have your Biblical characters confused. And, not to be picky, it feels a little weird to have Jesus anywhere in the same memory bank as what just happened in that bedroom.” “Well, we can’t have that.” He appeared to give his story some thought. “Then let’s say that Samson is a doctor.” I snorted. “Yeah, cause doctors are demigods? In their own minds, at least.” He narrowed his eyes and alarm bells rang in my head. I reared back. “Oh, crap. Are you a doctor? Sorry. I was just kidding. I—” He shut me up with a kiss. “Do I look like a doctor?”
I considered that, traced a finger across the dark lines of the intricate tattoo going down his arm. “Well, actually, no. Maybe a television Dr. McDreamy kind of doctor, but not like the kind I would normally see in real life.” His eyes gleamed, like he was enjoying our little game. “Then, which profession do you believe I belong to?” I was saved from answering by a knock sounding on our door, causing me to jump. Food. My stomach growled at the thought, and Samson laughed. I was about to excuse myself to the bedroom when I noticed my purse tipped over by the door. I raced over and scooped up my belongings before making my escape. Setting my purse next to the bed, I pulled out my phone as I listened to the clinking of dishes in the other room. My stomach growled as I scrolled through my text messages. Four were from Amy. Are you okay? Is he as good as he looks? Text me!!! If I don’t hear from you in an hour, I’m calling the police! I checked the time, realizing I had thirteen minutes left before that deadline. I tapped out a reply: I’m amazing. He’s even better. I’ve got three more hours so leave me alone! :) Luv u. The response was immediate: Standing down. Have fun. Need deets 2morrow. Luv u 2. “Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and midnight snack is served.” Smiling was so easy around him, and I did so widely as I tucked my phone back into my bag. “You’re a maître d’ in real life?” I guessed, heading in his direction. He laughed and gave me a little bow. “You know me so well.” I tugged at the belt of the robe he’d pulled on before answering the door, then raised onto my tiptoes to press my lips against his. “After pancakes, I’d like to get to know you some more.” His pupils flared, causing those amber eyes to darken, making him more predator-like. He yanked me to his chest. “I know you’re starving, but let’s eat quickly. Time is running out.” The food was delicious, the pancakes fluffier than I could ever make them. How did restaurants manage to do that? How did my mother? A pang of loss hit me as I remembered stirring the batter, her hand covering mine as we laughed. The good days. The days before— “What’s wrong?” My head snapped up, and I realized I’d been staring at my plate instead of eating. I slowly laid the fork on the side of the plate and lifted a napkin to my lips. “Sorry, lost
in thought. Do you have any idea how they make these so perfect?” “What’s wrong?” he repeated, clearly not taken in by my ruse or my desire to not talk about the direction an innocent pancake had taken my mind. “Are you a psychologist?” I asked, continuing to evade, forcing a playful smile onto my lips. His eyes stayed on me, piercing. Concerned. But he leaned back and took a drink of his juice. “How does that make you feel?” I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. He was funny, and it gave me the comic relief I needed. As his mouth lifted, just that one side, making him perfectly irresistible, my stomach twisted, and I wasn’t hungry any more. I stood, reached for a strawberry, and strode over to his chair. Straddling his lap, I put the strawberry between my teeth, hoping I looked sexy instead of stupid. “Hungry?” His eyes danced, crinkling at the corners as the word came out more like hungwey. I groaned and plucked the fruit out. “Dammit. I spoiled my sexy move.” He unfastened the top button of my — his — shirt, then the next. “You didn’t spoil anything,” he said as he opened the front all the way. “In fact, your, um, accent made it hotter. Do it again.” Still grinning, I put the strawberry between my teeth and offered it to him a second time. His amber eyes blazing, he lowered his head until his teeth closed around the protruding half. Our lips met as he bit down, the juice squirting into my mouth. I was finding it hard to breathe again as we both chewed, just gazing at each other. His cock stirred under me, and I rocked my hips, grinding down onto him. “They didn’t have mangos,” he said as his hands moved to my breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingers. He remembered that I loved them. My heart squeezed. “I was hoping to watch you peel one, eat one. Hoped I’d get lucky enough to lick the stickiness away.” That gave me an idea. Twisting in his lap, I reached for another strawberry. I bit off the tip, then ran the exposed part of the fruit down my chin. His eyes blazed as he realized my intentions, and he leaned forward, his cock growing harder beneath me. Very slowly, he licked the juice with the flat of his tongue before capturing my lips. When he leaned back again, I ran the strawberry down my carotid artery. His nostrils flared and his tongue cleaned that spot very thoroughly, lingering around my pulse, which I knew had increased in speed dramatically. My collarbone was next. Then the place where cleavage would have been if my breasts were bigger. I made that involuntary mewling sound as I covered a nipple with the sweet juice and watched his head lower to suck it off. “My turn,” I said when he sat back, clearly eager for more. “I want to taste too.” Turning and picking up another strawberry, I lifted it to his lips and he stared deeply into my eyes as he bit into the flesh. He then took it from my hand, and with a little smirk,
touched it to his forehead. I smiled and pulled his head down so I could kiss the juice away, the sweetness of the fruit mingling with the salt from his skin. When I was finished, he touched one cheek, then the other, then traced it over his bottom lip. I kissed him, feeling the scruff of his five o’clock shadow under my tongue, then followed the path to the other cheek before pulling his lower lip between my teeth. He continued the game, and I licked away the juice from his Adam’s apple. His shoulder. One nipple, then the next. I laughed as he drew a straight line from his sternum to his belly button, scrubbing the fruit up and down his washboard abs a few times. Moving until I was kneeling between his legs, I cleaned it all away, exploring the peaks and valleys of his muscles as I went. “You’re so sexy,” he said when I pulled the top of his boxers down, encouraging him to continue. He did, circling the fruit around the head and down the thick vein under the shaft. It tasted even better there. It was delicious. He was delicious. Wicked. Sexual. Right. He groaned and tossed the strawberry onto the table as I took him into my mouth. His hands went into my hair as I circled around the glans before dipping my tongue into the groove of the frenulum and along the coronal ridge, causing him to shudder. I’d never been with anyone of his size before, and it felt powerful to have him at my command, hissing air through his teeth as I ran my tongue along the thick shaft. “You have a wonderful tongue,” he said, gritting the words from between his teeth. I dipped it into the urethral opening before closing my mouth around the entire head. “You have a wonderful penis.” He laughed, a sharp bark of sound, and his fingers tightened in my hair, almost making me wince. “I hope it lives up to your expectations.” I kissed the tip again. “You exceed them, sir.” I wrapped both fists around the base, leaving a couple inches for me to still play with. “Did you know that the average speed of ejaculation is twenty-eight miles per hour.” Another bark of laughter. “Is that so? Should I maybe get you a pair of safety glasses?” I grinned, loving the banter, even in this most intimate moment. “The male orgasm lasts an average of six seconds while females, because we’re better in every way, average twenty-three.” Another deep chuckle, the fingers massaging my scalp now. “And because you’re better in every way, you get to have twenty-three-second-long ones multiple times.” I looked up at him. Licked. Watched his nostrils flare as he inhaled a deep breath.
“Tonight is the first time that’s happened for me.” His eyes narrowed, his head tipping to one side. “Are you just saying that in hopes that I’ll give you more?” I gave an exaggerated eye roll with an equally exaggerated scoff. “Well, of course I was hoping for that result, but I… told the truth.” My eyes fell to his abs, unable to meet his as I made a confession. “I thought I was broken. An ex called me a cold fish once.” I met his gaze again. “Thank you for coming along and proving to me otherwise.” How was it possible that we were having such a deep conversation with his dick in my hand? But it didn’t feel strange. It was oddly comfortable. Maybe because I had the freedom of knowing I’d never see him again. “You are the very opposite of a cold fish.” He wrapped his hands around my upper arms and pulled me up until I was straddling him again. He kissed me hard, tongue spearing into my mouth, passion combusting between us. Pushing the shirt off my shoulders and down my arms before tossing it onto a chair, he then broke the kiss to fumble in the pocket of his robe. He pulled out a condom. I raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you a good Boy Scout?” He ripped it open with his teeth. “Being prepared is a very sound motto.” I watched him roll it on, never realizing how sexy it was to witness a man doing so, then he had me by my hips, lifting me until I hovered just over him. “I like how strong you are,” I said as his cock began to spear into me, my hands clutching his broad shoulders. “I like how wet you are.” He sank me onto him slowly, my body consuming his an inch at a time. “How your body accepts me so easily. How your muscles clamp down when you come.” When I was fully seated, he kissed me again, and there was no more talking. Only feeling. Only breath. Only lips. Only touch. We rocked together, taking our time. There was no urgency in this connection as my body absorbed his over and over. In and out. Tongues and teeth. Fingers grasping and pulling. Holding on for dear life. And kissing. Oh god, the kissing. When I came, his eyes never left my face. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured before gritting his teeth, fighting his own body’s reaction. It was no use. He brought me down hard on his cock. Once. Twice. His roar sent goosebumps across my skin as he exploded inside of me. I cupped his face with my hands, trying to sear this moment into my memory for all time. Soon, he would go, and I would miss him. Which was so incredibly strange. How could you miss someone you barely knew? How could you mourn them leaving your life when they’d been in it for such a short time?
As our panting breaths calmed, our bodies still connected, my face in his neck, his arms wrapped around me tight… one single tear escaped before I shut them off and closed my eyes. “Thank you for giving me this memory,” I said, pressing my lips to his skin. His arms tightened even more, his breath warm in my hair. “Thank you.” And in that chair with my fantasy man still inside me, I fell asleep in his arms.
CHAPTER SIX Langston
I held her like that for the longest time, pulling my robe over her naked body as she slept, my thoughts like a tornado in my head. I was leaving tomorrow. I glanced at the clock. No, I was leaving in an hour. I’d signed a commitment for six months. Sure, before tonight, I’d felt certain I would recommit and be there for an entire year if not longer. But that wasn’t set in stone. Now, over the course of a few hours I was rethinking my plan because of a wild-haired redhead I met in a bar and had slept with within an hour of saying hello. She sighed, and I held her closer, pressing my lips into her sweet smelling hair. The way we met sounded sordid. In reality, it wasn’t sordid at all. It was… exactly right, though I doubted many people would think so, not that I gave two shits about other people’s opinions. She would. She wasn’t like the other women I’d met. I had no proof of that, but I knew it was true. I didn’t believe in instant love, but I absolutely believed in instant attraction, and my internal radar had locked onto her like a hawk would lock onto a rabbit racing across a field. And I had devoured her as voraciously as a predator would its prey. And she’d devoured me too. She appeared to be surprised by our connection. Delilah, the man slayer. Samantha, the witch. A total stranger wrapped in a mystery that had seemed fun and playful only hours ago. I had let her know up-front that I wasn’t available for more than one night. I’d seen the understanding in her eyes. I’d seen how attracted to me she was. I’d seen and understood how keeping me as a stranger would help her wake up with less regret. But, now, I deeply regretted not insisting on a formal introduction. “My name is Langston Kimbrough,” I said to her sleeping form, hoping my voice would wake her. It didn’t. She only made a sweet little mewling sound and nuzzled her face into my neck. Knowing my time was running out, I pushed to my feet, taking her with me, then groaned when the forgotten condom slipped off and hit the floor. That hadn’t been very smart. I’d take care of it later. I carried my sleeping beauty to the bed, determined that, if she woke when I laid her down, I’d tell her my name again. I’d leave it to fate to direct me down that path. But she slept like a dead person, grumbling a little before curling up on her side. Her auburn hair spilled all around her, the curls even curlier than before.
Adorable. A sweet mix of sexy and girl next door, with a large dose of free spirit tossed into the combination of genes and personality I couldn’t stop looking at. Covering her with a sheet, I took a hot shower, the last I might be getting for a while, then gathered my things, taking the toiletries from the bathroom and placing them in my bag. I’d packed light, five pairs of pants, ten pairs of underwear and socks, boots, running shoes, and a pair of slip-on shoes for any downtime I might have. A sleeping pad with mosquito netting, my laptop, iPad, and little else. If the people I was helping had very little, I’d damn well rough it too. Opening the laptop, I opened my email and responded to a few messages from my attorney and accountant. Over the past month, I’d updated my will and power of attorney, making sure the charities I supported would inherit the bulk of my fortune should I die. For years now, I’d donated all my salary as well as all the interest I earned each year, which was sizable, averaging between thirty and forty million dollars annually. One of my passions was providing scholarships to future doctors and nurses, people who couldn’t have afforded medical school otherwise. The little bitch Leesa from Columbia thought I should give my money away, but I thought it made better sense to invest in human beings. Fifty-six dollars to a single mother wouldn’t buy groceries for a week, but a full scholarship to nursing or medical school would change her life, and in turn, she would change the lives of others once she graduated and began working in the field. She’d also be able to change the lives of her children, giving them more opportunity to help others as well. That was the ripple effect, the contribution I wanted to make to my fellow Americans, especially the ones who fell down the government cracks. The selection wasn’t based on poverty level, but on need. In the hospital environment, I’d met and worked with too many middle-class people working their asses off just to get by, but still lived paycheck to paycheck through no fault of their own. They made too much for government assistance but not enough to ease the struggle. Same for financial aid. They didn’t qualify for grants but couldn’t afford tuition on their own. Those were the men and woman I wanted my foundation to target primarily. And we were getting there, dozens of people at a time. When I came home for good, I’d get even more involved in promoting the foundation and recruiting perfect candidates. After powering off the computer, I stuck it in my rucksack and leaned back in the chair, suddenly tired. I hadn’t slept well last night after being unable to save the little girl. I’d caught two, maybe three hours of sleep, then tonight… absolutely nothing. But the exhaustion went past physical. I felt it pulling at my emotional wellbeing too. Maybe that was why I was so reluctant to leave the woman still sleeping in my bed. She hadn’t just filled a physical need, she’d created a wonderfully safe space that I hadn’t been aware I needed. That was all. And that was a lie. She was more than that. With a deep exhale, I gathered her clothes from the floor and folded them over the back of my chair, leaving her my shirt to replace the one I’d torn as promised. I held her
ruined shirt in my hands and laid it on the stack of clothing too. Then, feeling like a lovesick puppy, I picked it back up and stuffed it in my rucksack. She got mine. I got hers. Fair enough exchange. Feeling foolish, I sat down on the side of the bed and pushed her hair back from her face, then leaned down to kiss her temple. If she woke, I’d tell her my name. I’d let fate decide. When she didn’t even stir, disappointment stabbed at me, so I kissed the tip of her nose, giving fate another chance. Nothing. Not even a flinch. I kissed her lips, her ear, did everything but shake her awake. Damn. She really did sleep like the dead. Fate had spoken, I guessed. And I hated, detested, the answer. Fuck. When my time had run out, and I absolutely had to go, I noticed her enormous leather bag and was tempted to go through it to find her identification. I was even reaching for it when the small hotel notepad on the nightstand caught my eye. Instead of invading her privacy, I found a pen and scribbled out a note. I want to see you again. I added my phone number and email address, then signed my real name and placed it on the nightstand by the bed. There. The tension that had been squeezing my chest lessened as I placed a glass of orange juice on the note to hold it down. Fate be damned. I would create my own fate. She would call, I knew it. Then we could maybe FaceTime or Skype, get to know each other from a distance. Then, when it was time for me to come home, it wouldn’t be so bad. So lonely. She would be waiting, and we’d go on dates, explore the attraction between us, see where it led. She would get to know me, and I would get to know her too. Her tattoo flashed in my mind, but I didn’t lower the sheet to look at it again. Of all the things she could have used to cover the scar, why the tree? Trees were considered sacred in many countries and cultures, but were seen mostly as a commodity here in the States. Trees symbolized resilience and strength, but also knowledge, protection, strength, forgiveness. Eternal life. When she called me, I would ask her about it. I would ask her a million questions and answer hers. Feeling lighter now, I placed one more kiss on her temple before grabbing my bags and heading out of the door.
I’d go. But I’d be back. I was smiling. Because I knew I’d get to see her again. When it was last call for my flight to be boarded, I wasn’t worried. She was probably still sleeping. When the flight attendants had made the announcement that all devices must be powered off, I wasn’t worried then either. She’d call. I knew she would. She had to because I needed it to be so. As the lights of New York faded below me, I closed my eyes and slept, safe in the knowledge that I’d know her name soon.
CHAPTER SEVEN Scarlett
Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. I swatted at what had to be a bug flying around my face, then covered my eyes as the light burned into my retinas through my eyelids. The buzzing started again, and I groaned, rolling over on my bed. No. This didn’t feel right. This didn’t feel like my bed, my room. I cracked an eye open, still shading them from the light streaming in the window. Then it hit me, and I jerked straight up. A hotel window. His hotel window. And there was light. Holy crap. Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz. I lunged for my phone on the floor, falling off the bed in the process. Finally fumbling it from my purse, I gasped when I saw it was Melinda, the charge nurse. I was on my feet in an instant. I didn’t even need to know the time to know I was late for my shift. The bright light outside was evidence enough. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I overslept. I’m on my way.” The words rushed out of me as I grabbed my bag and searched for my clothes. I found them folded nicely over a chair. Oh, how sweet. He had done that. Sadness tried to sink its claws in me but I had no time to allow that to happen. “When can you be here?” she asked, her voice the very definition of annoyed. I’d never been late. Not once, so you’d think she’d cut me some slack, especially after staying late last night. “I’m not sure. I’m near JFK,” I admitted, running into the bathroom, the adrenaline throbbing through my system. “What are you doing there?” she snapped even though it wasn’t any of her business. I tossed the clothes and my bag on the counter. That was when I noticed that my mystery man’s toiletries were gone. He really was gone. And I didn’t even get to say goodbye. “Scarlett!” I snapped to attention and took a deep breath before answering my supervisor. “I stayed with a friend. I can be ready in ten minutes, there in thirty if the traffic isn’t horrible. Or should I take the subway?” I’d never needed to take the subway from anywhere close to the airport because I’d never been on a plane. I pushed the mute button and peed as fast as I could while Melinda spoke. “Traffic is always horrible, but I don’t think you’ll have any better luck. The stops to get from there
to here are ridiculous.” I heard her yell at someone, asking about subway times. “Scarlett is near JFK. What’s the best way for her to get here this time of day?” I could hear my coworkers yelling out suggestions about the subway versus the bus versus taking a cab. My phone beeped at me, and I looked to see that my battery was almost completely drained. “Melinda, I’m jumping in the shower. My phone is almost dead. Can you text me?” “Sure.” She still sounded annoyed. “See you soon.” Diving into the shower before the water even warmed up, I hit the high spots, wincing as I soaped between my legs. Geez, I was sore. I didn’t even have time to dwell on how or by whom I’d gotten that way before I was drying off and pulling on my clothes. His shirt. He’d left it for me like he said he would. Just seeing it caused me to nearly burst into tears. I held it up to my nose, breathing in his scent. He’d just left. No, goodbye. No, it’s been fun. No, nothing. Even though I’d known it was coming, and even though I didn’t regret our night together, I was sad. And I didn’t have time to be sad. I didn’t have time for anything. I yanked on the shirt and dug into my bag for an elastic so I could pull the crazy mess on top of my head into a ponytail that still looked crazy but contained. Stuffing my feet in my shoes, I grabbed a hand full of strawberries, then took a last glimpse around the room. A room I’d never forget. A man I’d never forget. From the bedroom door, I looked longingly at the glass of orange juice on the night stand, wishing I had time to drink it, thinking how kind it was for him to place it there for me. My phone buzzed, and it was a text from Melinda, instructing me to just take a cab. Crap. My battery was at one percent, but I managed to send an ok, on my way message before it died completely. Without a backward glance, I stuffed my feet into my shoes, slung my bag over my shoulder, and headed out of the door. It took an hour to get there, and if I’d worn different shoes that didn’t pinch my pinky toes, I would have just gotten out and ran. Ran from the memories of his smile. His laugh. His gentle playfulness. His ferocious eyes, his growl when he came. The tattoo that was so interesting, so complex. The tree of life hidden within it… so much like mine. Why had I suggested we not introduce ourselves? Last night, the game had been fun. In the light of day, I just felt… hell, I didn’t even know how I felt. Just sad. When the tall outline of the hospital was in sight, I opened my bag and pulled out the eye drops I carried with me everywhere, then slicked my mango flavored Chap Stick over my lips. A block from the hospital, I just paid the taxi driver the exorbitant amount for the fair, then ran the rest of the way. Rushing onto the labor and delivery floor, I ran past the nursing station to a hail of “it’s about time” and “slacker” and “you’re in biiiig trouble” good-naturedly tossed my way. I shot them a smile as I flew past and burst into the locker room where I kept an arsenal of everything I might possibly ever need in my locker.
Dragging on a fresh pair of scrubs, I rolled deodorant under my arms, then under my breasts because I was already sweating there too. I brushed my teeth, nearly tearing my gums out as I scrubbed the enamel off while simultaneously pulling on socks and expensive — but worth every penny of it — shoes that felt like a dream on my feet. Taking a deep breath, I put on my calmest expression before heading to face my coworkers, trying not to waddle as the increasing sting in my lady parts demanded to be felt. “I’m so sorry,” I said to Naomi, the nurse who I had forced to stay late after a long night. She flashed me a tired smile. “Don’t you dare sorry me. I’m the reason you probably overslept. Remember, I was late covering for you last night. Just glad you’re okay.” Was I okay? I thought of my mystery man flying to some unknown destination. Or hell, that story might have been a lie and he was probably with his girlfriend or fiancée or… The thing was, I didn’t think so. For some gullible reason, I trusted him. Believed him. Missed him. Goodness, how did a person move forward knowing they’d probably never meet anyone as perfect as the one lost to them? Would any other man stack up, or would I forever compare him to my one-night stand? I spent a half hour with Naomi, listening to her catch me up on our patients, which took my mind off everything else. She’d already discharged one — not my diva mom, unfortunately — so that took a little of the post-delivery education off my shoulders. Little Marie Claire was in the NICU, I learned. The meconium in the amniotic fluid had gotten into her tiny lungs, and they were watching her closely for pneumonia. Naomi rolled her eyes when I asked how the baby’s mom was doing. She needed to not say more. “Scarlett!” I jerked my head in Melinda’s direction, who was holding a phone out to me. “It’s your friend, Amy. She wants to know if you’re alive or if she needs to call in the National Guard.” Melinda wiggled her eyebrows. “She also asked if you were able to walk.” All eyes swung to me, and I felt myself blush. Naomi nudged me with her elbow. “Stayed with a friend, huh? Maybe I wasn’t the one who caused you to oversleep. I want all the juicy details later.” I’d always loved my red hair. I even had a friendship with my freckles, knowing how lucky I was for them to be more of a light smattering than a full body assault. But my fair skin that refused to tan no matter what I did was another thing, it might not tan, but it sure changed a different kind of color. Pink. I blushed. Not just when I was embarrassed. I blushed at everything. When I was excited. Happy. Sad. It didn’t matter.
When Olivia singsonged, “I think Scar got some beans and franks last night,” I felt the blush creeping up into my hair. Being a nurse meant that nothing was private. We talked about the color of our poop, the heaviness of our monthly flow. We bent over and pulled down our pants so someone could check a mole or whether a hemorrhoid was getting bigger. I knew how much sex everyone was or wasn’t having. How good or boring it was. If their spouse or boyfriend was getting it or keeping it up. It didn’t matter. No subject was off the table. Trying not to snatch the phone from Melinda’s hand, I pressed it to my ear. “I’m fine.” “Why didn’t you call me?” Yikes. It was Amy’s teacher voice, and I was suddenly twelve years old. Aware that everyone was listening, I muttered, “I overslept and the battery in my phone died.” “But you’re okay?” I could almost see her raised eyebrow and felt the school teacher melt away. “Yes. I’m good.” “Only good?” I rolled my eyes and turned to face my coworkers. Yep, they were still staring at me. I turned my back on them again. “Can we talk about this later?” She growled into the phone. “I guess. Burgers at Max’s tonight? Say, eight?” She wasn’t going to let me out of this. “Sure. If I’m running late, I’ll let you know.” I jumped when she yelled, “Don’t run!” to one of the students. “Sorry, these hellions are driving me crazy. See you later. I’ve got to go.” Feeling Melinda’s gaze burning into my back, I quickly said, “Me too. Bye.” A call bell went off as I hung up the phone, and everyone groaned at the interruption. I glanced at the board. “That’s me.” Even though it was the diva, I was thrilled to get away from the lovingly prying eyes. Instead of using the intercom, I went straight to Mrs. Harlington-Worthington, the Fifth’s room, grabbing a handful of antibacterial foam along the way. I knocked softly, then went in when I heard her call out. In a different silk gown this time, a matching robe left open, Mrs. HW5 stood next to her bed. She lifted her chin when she saw me. “It’s about time.” I shut the door behind me, letting it click softly instead of slamming like I wanted it to. “Good morning. How do you feel?” She pointed to the floor, and I followed the direction of her finger to see something that had rolled under the nightstand. “I dropped my mascara.” It took the power of a thousand gods to not roll my eyes or suggest she get one of her “people” to fetch it for her. Instead, I got down, wincing as my hips protested the
movement, then fetched it out before walking to the sink to wash it off and re-sanitize my hands. When I turned to return the mascara to its owner, I was surprised to see her standing there in tears. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” She began to shake, and I rushed to her side, urging her back into bed. She was sore, hurting, probably scared for her baby, but there was also something deeper than that. When I got her settled, I went into the bathroom, rinsed a washrag with cool water, and came back to begin washing her makeup-streaked face. “Shhh…” I soothed, amazed at how different she looked under the mask she put on for the world. Soft. Very pretty. “You’re so lovely.” I instinctively knew that was what she needed to hear, but I needed to know, “What’s wrong? On a scale of one to ten, what level is your pain?” She snorted. “A billion and four, but that isn’t the problem.” “What’s the problem?” “Giselle quit,” she wailed. Literally wailed. If she wasn’t hurting so much, she probably would have thrashed her arms and legs. It took me more than a few seconds to remember who Giselle was. The stylist. And I really couldn’t blame her. I would have bailed too. “I’m sorry.” Mrs. HW5 sniffed. “She called me terrible names.” She shot me a sidelong look and lowered her voice. “A pretentious, diva bitch.” I feigned shock. “That is terrible. Sounds like you’re better off without her.” But Mrs. HW5 was shaking her head. “You don’t understand. I need her. I can’t…” She began to cry again, and I went into the bathroom for a fresh washcloth. “You can’t what?” I asked when I got back, wiping her face again. “My husband can’t see me like this,” she whispered. I frowned and smoothed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. “Crying? Surely, he’ll understand that you’ve been through a great deal. An emergency C-section is scary. Naomi told me you didn’t sleep well last night because of the pain. Your sweet baby is sick. That’s a lot to cry about. Plus, you aren’t eating which doesn’t help.” She shook her head. “Not that. It’s just that… well, he’s never seen me without makeup before.” I blinked. She was still worried about that? After all that she had been through? She swiped at her eyes. “I know that sounds terrible. Maybe Giselle is right and I am a pretentious bitch.” Pretentious diva bitch, I silently added. “Maybe you should let him see you more natural today,” I offered. “You really are beautiful just the way you are. And you just gave him a child and—”
“You don’t understand. He left his other wives because he said they let themselves go downhill after they had kids.” My teeth squeaked, I gritted them together so hard. “Oh, honey.” I squeezed her hand, and she began to cry again. “Do you love him?” She nodded, sniffing back the tears. “I really do. There’s a side to him that can be very kind and playful. And he’s so very generous. There are times when he treats me like a precious queen.” “What about the other side?” She looked up at me, but her gaze fell just as quickly. “The other side is very controlling and… harsh.” I licked my lips. “Do you feel safe with him?” Her head jerked up. “Yes. Yes, of course. He’s not harsh like that. He’s intense, you know? A bit set in his ways. He likes things the way he likes them, and because of who he is, he always gets what he wants.” I squeezed her hand again. “I can’t imagine that he wouldn’t want you just like this.” Her face crumpled. “I don’t know. You should have seen the prenup I signed. There were conditions about my weight and staying within five pounds of what I was when we got married.” My hand flew to my mouth. “You’re kidding.” “Not at all. Like I said, he likes what he likes. There was a clause that gave me three months to get back to pre-pregnancy weight if I had a baby. If I don’t, our contract is null and void.” I didn’t know what to say. She sighed. “I tried to fix my own face but everything hurts so bad, even my shoulders.” She winced. “Especially my shoulders.” “That’s the gas from the surgery.” She groaned but a smile played on her mouth. “Just what I need, to pass gas in front of Henry. He’ll divorce me for sure.” I couldn’t help but ask, “Is there a clause in the prenup against that too? Thou shall not fart?” She laughed, then grabbed her belly, gasping in pain. “Sorry about that. Breathe,” I encouraged her and took a noisy inhale through my nose, waiting for her to follow. After a bit, she relaxed. “This is worse than the contractions.” “You had a major surgery last night, Mrs. Harlington-Worthington, the Fifth,” I reminded her. “I’ll have a rocking chair brought in. Moms often say that helps. I’ll get a heating pad for your shoulders and check your med schedule to see when you can next have something for pain. We’ll get you walking more too. And I insist that you have to eat
something. Will you?” She sighed, poked her finger at her stomach, then nodded. “Maybe some sugar-free Jell-O.” “And maybe some broth too?” She grumbled out a, “Yes.” I looked at the makeup case on her rolling tray. “I need to check on a laboring patient, but when I get back, I’ll help you put on some makeup.” She blinked rapidly at me. “You will?” Doubt spread over her features. “You can?” I decided not to be insulted. I didn’t have a speck of makeup covering my deformities. She actually had pretty good reason to have serious reservations about my ability to wield anything other than a tube of Chap Stick. “Sure. I doubt I’ll be very good, but I have a steady hand and if you tell me what to do, I can follow directions.” She continued to blink as the tip of her nose turned pink. “Thank you.” I patted her hand a last time. “I’ll be back in a little bit.” As I opened the door, she called out, “Scarlett.” I was shocked that she remembered my name. “Yes?” “Call me Celine.” I smiled and nodded. “I’ll be back soon, Celine. Rest for a bit. Everything will be all right.”
*** As I expected, dinner with Amy was like facing a firing squad, except that the bullets came in the form of questions being shot in my direction at what felt like eighty miles per second. When she had eeked out every detail of my night with the mystery man, she sat back in her chair and lifted her tea to her lips. “I still can’t believe you don’t know his name,” she said and I plopped my face into my hands. “I know. It was so stupid to insist on that whole fantasy thing, but maybe it’s better this way.” She pulled one of my hands down. “How so?” I guzzled a long drink of my tea and began stirring my ketchup with a fry. “He made it clear up-front it was a one-time thing. If I knew his name, I’d probably be tempted to do something stupid like Google him or stalk his social media pages. It would just prolong the agony, seeing his picture with some blonde bombshell.” I picked up my butter knife and stabbed it into my remaining burger. “It’s a clean cut this way.” Amy sighed. “I suppose you’re right. It just sounds like he was really into you.”
I laughed, hating that it sounded a little bit bitter. “Yeah, he was. Deep into me.” And I could still almost feel it. She pointed her fork at me. “Your face.” I brought my hand up to my mouth, wondering if I had ketchup all over it. Amy rolled her eyes. “Not that. It’s just your expression. You seem so, I don’t know. Lost.” Lonely. The memory of me telling him that swept over me, the look in his eyes as he pushed me back down on the bed immediately afterwards and kissed me for what seemed like an hour. “I’ve never seen you like this, Scar.” I made a heart in my ketchup, realized what I’d done, and erased it away, dropping the fry and sitting back in my seat. “That’s because you haven’t seen me post one-night stand in… um, let’s see… never.” She snorted. “It’s not just that.” She shook her head, eyeing me closely. “Do you regret going with him?” My answer was immediate. “No. But I do wonder if I’ll ever find anyone who can make me feel the way I felt with him.” I dropped my chin onto my fist, needing it to prop my tired head up. “He was perfect. Good-looking. Built. Brooding but also open. Serious but also funny. Rough but also gentle.” “Whew.” Amy used a napkin to fan her face, making me smile. “Hot, yes. He was sooo hot. And you should have seen his tattoo. He had a tree of life in it. It was surrounded by all these jagged lines and things, but I could make it out easily.” “Like yours,” Amy murmured, her face filled with sympathy. “Yes. And he seemed really into my tattoo as well. The scar didn’t even seem to faze him.” “Well, it’s not like it makes you hideous, Scarlett.” Amy’s teacher voice was back. “Even before the tattoo, it wasn’t that noticeable.” It was my junior year in college when I’d gotten the tree inked onto my body. I’d always loved trees. Not the big, perfectly formed ones, but the broken ones that grew out of the ground in an unexpected way. For some reason, they touched me with their strength and resilience. And now I was crying. Not sobbing, but a few hot drops escaped my eyes. Amy moved from her side of the booth to mine, wrapping an arm around me. “Scar, I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to bring the bad memories back.” My man. His angry face. The knife. My brother making me hide. “Scar…” I mentally shook the memories away. “It’s okay. I think I’m just really tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Amy looked at her watch. It was after nine. “Dinner’s my treat. You go on and get to bed. You’re off tomorrow, right?” I nodded. “I’m off for the next two days.” “Doing anything fun?” I laughed. “Classes and studying, of course.” When I wasn’t working, my nose was in a book as I worked toward my master’s degree in nursing. My goal was to become a certified midwife, but that was still a few years away. I had a lot on my plate. I just needed to put mystery man out of my mind and get on with the rest of my life.
*** That was what I tried to do for the next couple weeks. Forget him while working long shifts at the hospital or spent equally long days in the classroom or at my computer, trying to keep my grades up so that all my student loans wouldn’t be for nothing. I was so tired as the leaves began to change on the trees and the nights grew a little bit cooler. I started taking extra vitamins and drinking additional protein smoothies to boost my immune system and give me some additional energy. When my mind went to him, as it often did, I gently pushed the memory away and got busy with whatever it was I’d been doing. It was hard not thinking of him, not wishing I’d bump into him on the street. It was hard to not touch myself, closing my eyes and pretending it was his fingers making me come. I found myself wondering what he was doing. Where he was. If he ever thought about me too. The last part was the hardest. Had he just walked out of that room without a qualm? Was I forgotten before he stepped out of the hotel? I hated the self-doubt that accompanied those questions, and I vowed to never, ever, have a one-night stand again if this was the mental crap that came after it. When I missed my period, I just stared at the calendar, convincing myself that it was just stress, too many long hours and too little sleep. That had to be the problem. When I was a week late, I still couldn’t face the probability of what was happening. “Let me in!” It was Amy, of course, knocking like a crazy person on my apartment door and barging into the tiny space. Without another word, she thrust a bag out at me, then pointed her finger at the bathroom. The pregnancy test felt like a live bomb ticking in my hand, and my fingers shook as I held it under the stream of urine. As it lay on my bathroom counter, I wouldn’t have been surprised if it came alive and sank massive teeth into me. “It’ll be okay,” Amy said beside me as we both stared at the test, watching the little window turn from a bright white to a dull-looking gray as the urine saturated it. “No
matter what, it will be okay.” “We used condoms,” I said in a tiny voice as the first pink line appeared. Amy already knew that, but I felt the need to repeat it. I hadn’t been stupid. I hadn’t been naive or lazy. We had used condoms. We had been adults. Took precautions. In my mind, I could see Ross on Friends screaming, “They should put it in huge black letters!” after Rachel told him that condoms were only ninety-seven percent effective. In fact, the success rate was ninety-eight percent if used correctly, so that still left two out of one hundred women who stood looking at a pregnancy test as anxiously as me. “Maybe my vagina really does have fangs,” I said, my voice on the edge of hysterical as a cackle immediately followed. Amy’s head whipped around. “What?” But I was laughing too hard to respond. Well, sort of, because there were also tears streaming down my face. Then the laughter stopped completely because, beside the first pink line, a second line began to appear. It was faint, but it was there. “Oh, Scarlett.” They said that your life flashed in front of your eyes just before your life ended. That was also true when your life ended in a different way. I’d been on a course, a journey. I’d had plans. I’d been implementing those plans. One night changed everything. I had choices, of course. I could make this all disappear if I wanted to. I tucked that thought into my pocket as Amy led me back into the little living room and made me some tea. I took another test the next morning — positive. I went to work and took another test there — positive. I had Olivia draw my blood and we sent it to the lab in a covert maneuver that would have probably gotten my ass fired if, surprisingly enough, Melinda hadn’t insisted I do it. I hadn’t said a word to either of them. It was like they knew. And that result was positive as well. I was… Knocked up by a stranger. A tall, dark-haired, amber-eyed stranger who I couldn’t stop thinking about. And when I decided to keep the baby, I cried, hoping he or she would have those amber eyes too. It looked like my mystery man left me something besides his shirt to remember him by after all.
CHAPTER EIGHT Langston Thirty weeks later…
“Do you plan to stay another month?” I finished chewing a huge bite of Obe Ata Dindin stew I was eating before answering Michael’s question. “I think so. We’re starting to make a real difference here.” I’d already worked through my six-month commitment and was staying on, renewing a month at a time. Surgeons didn’t have to sign longer contracts like other varieties of physicians, so it gave me a little more freedom of choice, which I liked. I didn’t feel bound to the place with this arrangement. Plus, what was there to go home to? She wouldn’t be there. My jaw clenched. Damn, I was still angry that I never heard from her. Why hadn’t I heard from her? “You’re doing good work,” the medical staff leader said. “I’m happy to hear that you’re satisfied with our results.” “I am. We need to get a handle on the cholera outbreak in the refugee camps, but that type of work is outside my wheelhouse. We’ll—” Boom! The entire table shook with the force of the blow, and the restaurant glass imploded, showering the customers sitting near it with an avalanche of glass. It was my day off, and I’d gone into the city for an early dinner with a few of the other medical staff members. In Maiduguri, we didn’t travel at night. Today, we shouldn’t have traveled at all. We should have stayed in our camp. But as the screaming started, I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be. Grabbing my rucksack, I stayed low as I headed to those cut and bleeding on the restaurant floor. I heard the words, “Car bomb,” and knew I needed to get outside. After making sure there were no serious injuries inside the restaurant, I headed toward the door. Sirens and screaming made everything more confusing as I assessed the burning vehicle down the street. Boom! A second explosion came about a hundred yards past the first one. The screaming intensified as pedestrians ran in all directions, some streaming past me and into the restaurant, hoping for a safe place to hide. Adrenaline surged through my veins as I ran out onto the street, keeping low, the rucksack in front of me, the Kevlar lining acting as a minimally protective shield. There
were no more explosions, so I edged closer and approached the first victim, then ran past him. He was clearly dead. I didn’t even stop to confirm the diagnosis. The wounds the man received were not compatible with life, and I needed to focus on those I could save. Bodies littered the street, at least six dead that I could count. On the other side of the burning vehicle, I found a small child screaming underneath her mother. After a quick assessment, I knew the mother hadn’t made it, but I hoped she died knowing that she’d shielded and saved her child. The little one only suffered scrapes and bruises, and I hoped she was too young to ever remember this terrible day. A woman in surgical scrubs grabbed the screaming toddler from my arms, and I went on to the next victim, then the next, then the next, stabilizing those I could, providing triage and sending those at most risk to the hospital first. I cursed the limitations of what I could do with the limited supplies in my bag. I cursed the maniacs who had set off the bombs. Cursed whatever limited powers that be for allowing shit like this to happen to these innocent people. These weren’t soldiers who had signed up for a bloody war. These were human beings just trying to make a life out of their limited means. It was hours later before I was transported back to camp, blood stiffening my clothes. I stripped and went straight to the shower, letting the cool water cascade over my head as bone-deep weariness stamped its booted foot on me. The last time I remembered feeling this exhausted, I met her. Kissed her. Fucked her into a near coma. Left her lying in that bed, hope filling my chest that I would see her again. Even as my cock stiffened at the memory of her, the taste of her, the sound of her laughter filling my head, the rage stiffened my shoulders that I’d never heard from her after that night. I had no right to be angry. We had made no promises to each other. She hadn’t even gifted me with her name. Still… the way she had looked at me hadn’t been pretend. The way our lips hungered for each other. It had not been make believe. I wasn’t dressing up or exaggerating the powerful connection we had between us in my mind. It was there. I’d known it the moment I saw her. I thought she had felt it too. I had thought wrong. The water was cold as it trickled from the showerhead, but I continued to stand there while my cock deflated, a direct reflection of my sagging spirit. I’d come to do a job, and I’d been doing it well. I was in the right place at the right time today to help save a few innocent lives, but there would be more to save tomorrow and the next day, and the next. I was just tired, the aftermath of so much adrenaline surging through me earlier. Harder than necessary, I soaped my hair and body twice before shivering through the final rinse. I stepped out, toweled off, and pulled on a pair of boxers and shorts. I didn’t bother with a shirt. Although it was night, it was still hotter than hell, dipping from a daytime high near one hundred and ten degrees to a “refreshing” nighttime temperature in the eighties.
Falling onto my cot, I’d barely laid my head down when a knock sounded at the door. “Just a minute.” I cursed, shoved back up to my feet, and pulled on a relatively clean tshirt I found in a stack on the tiny table in the room. I opened the door to find Jesse, one of the administrative assistants, at my door. The moment she laid eyes on me, she scowled. “You look like hell.” I leaned against the doorframe, too tired to do anything else. “Been a suck-ass day.” She nodded, the gray-streaked bun she always wore on top of her head doing a little dance with the movement. “I heard. Sorry to bother you, but you’ve got a phone call and —” “Take a message. I—” She held out a hand. “They say it’s urgent. Apparently, they called your cell a number of times, but it went straight to voice mail.” Her dark eyes turned serious. “It’s your mother.” I didn’t think I had any adrenaline left in my body, but a shot of it hit me, making my heart begin to pound hard. “I was gone longer than I’d planned today. The battery died on my phone.” I stuffed my feet into my shoes and followed Jesse to the admin building. “Mom, what’s wrong?” She was talking, but she was also crying too hard for me to understand the words. I heard someone speaking in the background then another voice came onto the line. “Lang…” It was Josh, and fear took another bite out of me. “What’s going on?” He cleared his throat. “You’ve got to come home. It’s your dad.” The universe tilted sideways, and I fought to stay upright, then began to pace, going as far as the corded phone would allow. “Is he…?” I couldn’t finish it. I’d seen too much death today. And my father was invincible. He was supposed to live another few decades, at least. “No, but it’s bad.” His voice was low now, and I could hear his footsteps as he walked away from my sobbing mother. “Lang, he’s suffered a stroke. A serious one. He’s had surgery to remove the clot, and he’s in ICU. He’s on a ventilator. They don’t know…” He didn’t have to finish the sentence. I knew the words he didn’t say. They didn’t know how much time my father had left. I turned to find Jesse looking at me, her motherly face filled with concern. “I’ll be on the next flight out.” Jesse understood and scurried behind her desk to begin clicking on her keyboard. I swallowed hard. “Tell him to hang on for me,” I told Josh, my throat closing. I had to clear it a few times before I could continue. “Take care of Mom.” “I will. I won’t leave her. I promise.” “Thanks, man.” I set the phone down in its cradle and sank into the chair by Jesse’s desk, dropping my
face in my hands. She was still clicking. “I can get you on a flight in three hours,” she said, peering at the screen. “I’ll take it.” She looked up at me, sympathy written all over her face. “It’s rough. Five stops. You won’t get there until tomorrow night.” I shrugged and tried to rub the tension out of the back of my neck. “Book it and bill me. Any paperwork I need to complete before I leave?” She shook her head. “You’ve stayed longer than anyone expected you to. You haven’t signed the next contract yet, so nothing holding you to us.” I didn’t tell her that I’d been planning on a year. Didn’t tell her I’d hoped that a certain wild-haired redhead would be wanting me back in half that time. None of that mattered anymore. My father was dying from the sound of it, and even if he was able to live, the stroke would take him out of the operating room, out of the profession he loved so much. That left me. I was going back to New York. Permanently. I would be taking over my father’s practice. And I’d be doing it alone. Without her.
*** “Mom.” Her head raised and red-rimmed eyes stared at me for the longest moment. As she rose to her feet, I moved to her quickly, afraid she would fall. Mom collapsed into my arms, sobbing uncontrollably. I held her close, knowing I looked and smelled like hell while also knowing she wouldn’t care. Josh was there, and I had a hard time looking his way. He was going to tell me that I hadn’t made it in time, I just knew it. But when I finally looked, my friend clamped a hand on my shoulder, giving the tight muscle a hard squeeze. “He’s still hanging in there, Lang.” He took Mom by the shoulders and lowered her in the chair. “Go ahead. I’ll wait with her here.” Nodding my thanks, I dropped my bags on the floor and headed to the intensive care unit. The familiar nurses shot me looks of sympathy as I walked through the doors. One came closer and waved her hand toward room eight, giving me a kind smile. Then I was there, staring at a man who wasn’t familiar. He was the ghost of the man I knew less than nine months ago. On shaky legs, I pulled his chart off the wall, then went inside and collapsed into a chair, refusing to look at all the monitors and machines. This was one of those times that I hated being a doctor. I knew what everything meant. Every number. Every bag hanging from the IV pole.
“Hi, Dad. It’s me, Langston. I’m here.” Nothing. Just the hiss of the respirator breathing in and out for him. “I’m sorry I left, Dad.” Guilt crushed my vocal cords, making it hard to speak. “If I’d stayed, you could have retired or cut back, something that could have reduced your stress. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened.” This was the conversation I’d had over and over in my mind on the plane. I was a selfish bastard of a son going off the way I had. I knew that he seemed tired at my going away party. I should have paid more attention. I should have stayed, dammit. Taken off some of the burden. I could have given Doctors Beyond Borders a big-ass check, torn up my contract, and planted my ass where it belonged. Right here. If I hadn’t been so selfish, Dad would have had many more years to live. And maybe my little redheaded witch would still be by my side. That word again. Maybe. A word that didn’t change the reality of my present situation no matter how much I wanted it to do so. I dropped my face in my hands, scratched at the itchy growth of hair on my face. Sitting back up, I opened Dad’s chart and began to read. It was bad. My father was dying. No, unofficially, he was already gone. Medicine and machines were the only things giving him the pretense of life. “Langston.” I looked up to find Dr. Ramaprasad at the door. I stood and held out a hand. “Arturo, hello. Wish I could say it was good to see you.” Dad’s old friend attempted a smile, but it failed to remain on his weary-looking face. “Wish I could say the same, son.” No bigger than five-four, I towered over the older man, but he was the powerful one in the room. Every physician in New York liked and respected the man before me, almost as much as I did. I’d known him my entire life. “I’m sorry, Langston,” he said, his hand curling around the metal railing of Dad’s bed. “I wish there was something more we could do.” I nodded. “You did. You kept him alive long enough for me to get here. Gave me a chance to say goodbye.” Tears shone in his eyes, just as I knew they were doing in mine. “Take all the time you need. Your mother understands the situation and agreed to this extension of your father’s life. Let me know when you’re ready, and we’ll let him go.” It was surreal. I thanked Arturo and turned back to Dad’s bed, practically falling into the seat beside him.
Lonely. Why did so many of my thoughts swing back around to her, especially in quiet moments like this? Why did she have to haunt my dreams and days with her crazy hair and bright blue eyes? Why hadn’t she called? The question was like a worm tunneling through my mind. “Dad, I know you wanted to see me settle down, and I will. I promise. In fact, I thought I’d found someone who could step into that role, but it didn’t work out.” I took his hand. It was rough and callused like mine. “But that’s progress, isn’t it? A damn big step from total avoidance of women to me seeing a little possibility for a future relationship.” If she had fucking called my number. “That should give you a little hope in me yet.” I exhaled a long breath, wishing he could do something to show me he was listening, was hearing me. Understood. There was only the lift and lower of his chest as the machine did the work for him. “Looks like I have another big step in front of me too. Filling your shoes. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so reluctant to come back here. I’ve been afraid I couldn’t measure up to you.” I squeezed his hand. “I’ll try, Dad. I’ll do my best to not let you down. I’m back, and I’m staying, so you rest easy about that.” The heart rate didn’t change. There was no movement. Nothing. “I hope you’ll forgive me.” A soft hand came down on my shoulder. I hadn’t heard my mother enter, and if I hadn’t been so tired, I would have jumped out of my skin at her touch. “There’s nothing to forgive, Langston, sweetheart,” she told me, wiping at the tears in her eyes. “Your father loves you very much and was… is… very proud of the man you’ve become. He was even proud of your desire to do things your way, and he also knew you’d come back if needed.” I wished I could believe that. “I shouldn’t have gone away, Mom. I should have stayed here and helped him. Taken some of the burden off.” She gave a dry laugh that sounded so brittle it could break apart and be swept away with the wind. “Sweetheart,” she said softly, stroking her hand through my hair. “Even if you had come back, your father wouldn’t have retired or even cut back on his schedule. He loved his patients. Loved the operating room. You know that.” I nodded. She was right. But the guilt stayed with me as the medical staff turned off the machines, giving my father the rest he deserved. It stayed as I helped Mom with the funeral arrangements. Grew even deeper as we dealt with the aftermath at his practice. His patients. His schedule. The life he had worked so hard to build was now lying firmly in the palms of my much weaker hands. There were a million things to do, and they all fell on my shoulders, so I took a deep breath and soldiered through them all. When the burial was over, I drove Mom and my
grandparents to the house on King’s Point, where she had decided to stay for a while, needing to get away from the city and the endless memories there. I couldn’t stay with her. There was too much work to be done. My only solace was the cottage house, which had been restored beyond my imagination. The floors gleamed through the expansive three-floor home. The floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the entire place with light. The decorator wasn’t done yet, but she had promised to at least have the master bedroom furnished by the time I made it back from King’s Point. I could have stayed in the penthouse, but that wasn’t where I wanted to be. I walked into the master bedroom and stared at the vintage panel bed, the dark charcoal contrasting nicely against the softer shade of the walls. The decorator had done well. Subtle carvings didn’t detract from the masculinity of the piece. She’d made it up with crisp-looking sheets, blankets, and a comforter I probably would never use. As beautiful as the room was, it was… lonely. As was I. It needed a pop of red. A hint of blue. It needed laughter and soft gasps. Sleep was a long time coming as my mind conjured my mystery woman beside me, then she faded like a ghost in the night.
CHAPTER NINE Scarlett
“Oh, darn it,” Melinda said, looking at her phone. “Dr. Kimbrough’s funeral was yesterday. I completely forgot. I wanted to go and pay my respects to his family.” Dr. Kimbrough? I raked my brain, trying to place him. There were so many hospitals in New York, so many physicians, it was impossible to know all the doctors in my hospital let alone all the others sprinkled around the city. “Who was he?” “Surgeon over at Mercy. Been there forever. He was such a very nice man. I worked with him for a couple years about five years ago.” Melinda waggled her eyebrows. “And his son is mighty fine, and when I say mighty fine I mean every Hollywood star rolled into one. I’d never seen the charge nurse go googly-eyed over a man, and the look on her plump face made me smile. “Oh really?” Melinda’s face turned dreamy and she dropped her chin on her hand. “Absolutely really. At least he was a few years ago. Tall, dark, and handsome has his face as part of the description. He’s beautiful. His voice is so deep it’s like a knife in your heart every time he speaks.” She sighed again. “His name is Langston.” I snorted. “Sounds super preppy. Probably has an alpha omega sigma beta whatever flagpole stuffed up his rectum.” Lorie turned from the computer where she’d been charting and frowned at me. “Are you all right? You’ve been super bitch, um… sorry, I mean prickly lately. It’s not like you.” She was right. Annoyance had been like ants crawling over my skin. I rubbed my belly and groaned. “Sorry, the first word was right. I feel bitchy. I think one of the babies is sitting on my sense of humor.” As if they’d heard me, one gave me a sharp kick in the ribs. I grunted, and everyone looked at me. I held up a hand. “I’m okay. The little devils are doing the cha-cha again, it’s like they enjoy ganging up on me. I’m in so much trouble. One second, I want them out. The next, I’m terrified of the reality of dealing with twins.” Alone. The phone rang, and I sighed, picking it up, then patched the sales rep through to the NICU. The damn hospital operator had one job to do. Just one, I mentally groused as I half slammed down the phone. All eyes slid my way again. Picking up my water, I took a long drink, enjoying the hint of raspberries I’d placed inside the infuser. I’d stayed away from caffeine during the pregnancy — didn’t want to give the kiddos another reason to be any wilder — and had enjoyed creating a variety of
flavored waters in my fancy sports bottle. For the past few weeks, I’d been demoted to a glorified desk clerk, although my primary function was to “beta test a new program” of doing patient follow-ups from the floor. I felt sure it was a sympathy position because my labor and delivery director knew I couldn’t afford to take leave too early. Since learning I was pregnant, I began saving every penny I could, but my savings would only last about two months in total. I needed to work as long as I could before the babies were born. I’d never admit it, but I actually liked the job. It was kind of fun to call new moms and check in with them, to see how they were doing. I normally only saw them for a couple days postpartum and it was fun to see how they were settling in. These moms loved to talk. They talked about the baby, their boobs, how much or how little sleep they were getting. They talked about how to tell their husbands they were never having sex again, or about how they were ready to have another. It amazed me at how many of them had intercourse before the recommended six weeks. Weren’t they tired? Of course, if my mystery man was around post babies, I’d jump his bones as soon as I could. On the calls, I listened and absorbed everything they said. It was helpful. With two little ones on the way, I needed all the advice I could get. After all, I knew just about everything about babies during their first twenty-four to forty-eight hours. After that, I was at a loss. I only thought I understood shock and surprise when that pregnancy test turned pink, but I was nearly in a catatonic stupor when I saw those two little nuggets on the ultrasound screen. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I was a twin. Had been a twin. Would always be a twin in my heart. When my twenty-week ultrasound showed that I was having a boy and a girl, I’d smiled up into the heavens at my little brother — younger by two entire minutes — who had been robbed of a longer life. I had decided to name the boy Samuel, after him. I hadn’t decided on the girl’s name yet, but was leaning toward Sofi, though I also liked Silla almost as equally well. One thing for sure was that I needed to decide on it soon. At thirty-five weeks, I was lucky to be pregnant this long. For twins, the average gestation was thirty-six, and my time was running out. I could feel it. I was fortunate that both heads had been turned down for a while now and was hoping for a vaginal delivery. Heck, half of all twins popped out that way. I was hoping to be one of them. “Here’s the newsletter with all the National Hospital Week events.” I took a thick sheaf of papers from Melinda’s hands, scanning the schedule of events, looking primarily for the drug rep functions, knowing there would be good food at those. “Yum, sushi.” Olivia, who’d just stepped up to the desk, wagged a finger at me. “No raw fish. Don’t
make me kick your ass.” I laughed. “I won’t. I’d probably throw up just smelling it.” I’d been lucky to not have terrible morning sickness even though certain smells always made me gag. “Besides,” Melinda cut in, “the sushi bar is just for doctors. Be sure to read the asterisks before you get your hopes up.” I reread the schedule. Asterisk. Asterisk. Asterisk. “Well, at least we get the donut and coffee breakfast. It pisses me off. The rich people always get the free stuff,” I grouched and rubbed my belly. I’d buy my own damn sushi once these little guys came out. “Why don’t you spend half your life getting a medical degree if you’re going to complain.” I closed my eyes, recognizing the voice. It belonged to the most egotistical doctor on the floor. Very slowly, I turned my chair toward him, making sure my belly protruded even more than usual, hoping that would gain me a little sympathy from his razor tongue. “Sorry, Dr. McCormick,” I said sweetly. “I was just grousing. You deserve everything you get.” Behind him, Olivia made a smoochy face, mimicking me kissing his ass, but he didn’t see her, just continued on down the hallway, cutting me some much needed slack. I wiped fake sweat off my forehead and turned back to the phone, determined not to get into any more trouble today.
*** “Argh.” Amy smirked at me from her position on the floor where she was folding baby clothes. “You sound like a pirate.” I leaned backwards, stretching out my back, then went through a series of other stretches, hoping to get the ache just above my tailbone to relax. I bent forward, reaching as if trying to touch my toes, which was laughable. I hadn’t seen those suckers in weeks. “What am I going to do?” My one bedroom was tiny and would soon have to fit three people. Granted, two of those people were very small, but it would still be ridiculously cramped. “You’ll be fine. I’m going to hang the curtains up and your adorable baby alcove will be complete.” I still wasn’t so sure. I had planned on making my bedroom the baby room while I slept in the living area. I was going to sell my regular-sized bed, buy a small daybed for me, and call it done. Amy pitched a fit over the idea, insisting that I’d need as much rest as I could get. “Besides, they’re babies. They won’t care where they sleep.” Then she’d come up with the idea of setting the cribs in the corner of the living room, creating an L-shape with them
against two walls. It was actually going to be cute, but I still felt like a bad mother for not doing better by them. What was I going to do when it was time for them to go to school? Prom? College? Weddings? It was terrifying, and I could easily go down a rabbit hole of panic every time I thought about it. I was now thirty-five weeks and three days, and I couldn’t believe how fast and slowly the time was passing by. I was seeing my ob-gyn on a weekly basis now, and just yesterday, she had given me good and bad news. “You’re dilated to three and about forty percent effaced.” I’d been having mild contractions but was still surprised at the news. “Let’s do the steroid shots for the babies’ lungs. We’ll do one today and one tomorrow. You know the drill.” I did know the drill, so I’d gotten the shot yesterday and then waddled back to her office for one this morning. It was really scary knowing the babies could come at any time. It gave me a new appreciation for my laboring mothers. One thing for sure, I was going to be an even better nurse from this day forth. I’d be the most sympathetic, compassionate nurse on the whole entire planet. I’d never roll my eyes at contractions or swollen feet. I’d be the picture of supportive, a thousand times more so than I was before twin-gate occurred. Before he occurred. God, I missed him. “Are you okay?” Amy asked, her hawk eyes focusing in on me. “You look sad. Are you thinking about him?” My lips fluttered with the exhale of my breath, and I picked up the iron to continue to smooth out the wrinkles in the fabric we were going to hang as a pretty barrier between the babies’ space and the living area. “I can’t stop thinking about him, Amy. It seems like the closer we get to the babies coming, the more he’s on my mind.” Climbing the step stool, Amy positioned the rods of the first curtain. I’d chosen an elegant gray for the fabric divider, and it had been a good choice, creating a neutral balance to the pinks and blues of the cribs. Gender neutrality people would hate me, but I loved the soft colors that felt right for both of my children. As they grew older, I vowed to let little Sofi or Silla play with cars and little Samuel have tea parties with dolls. But only if that was what they wanted. “Do you know what drives me crazy about it all?” I asked Amy, handing her another panel. “That he’s not here to rub your feet?” I tried to see my toes. Failed. Shrugged. “Well, that, but I hate that he’s off doing whatever he’s doing, and he has zero clue that his buns are nearly finished baking. I mean, he’s probably thrilled that he doesn’t know. He practically told me that he didn’t want to be tied down to anything.” Amy smoothed the curtain. “I get what you’re saying though. Can you imagine how
weird it would be to not know that you have two kids? It seems like you’d, I don’t know, feel them or something. Guess it doesn’t work like that.” Oh, how I wished he would feel them, gravitate back to them. To me. How I wished I’d woken up that morning and begged him for his name, given him mine. But I hadn’t woken. I’d always slept like the dead. I could remember my mother complaining about trying to get me to wake up for school when I was little. “Bombs could go off and you wouldn’t even flinch,” she’d said often, usually while I was running around like a crazy person trying to get ready. What if I couldn’t wake up when the babies needed me? What if I let them starve to death because their cries went unattended? What if kidnappers burst through the doors and took them while I slept through it all? My stomach tightened as the panic of my racing questions made it hard to breathe. My belly grew even harder, enough that I could really feel it this time. Automatically, I checked my watch just out of habit. Probably just another Braxton Hicks, but it didn’t hurt to keep an eye on things. The contraction didn’t last long, and I got busy ironing the next curtain, eager to see the alcove finished. “It’s really pretty,” I told Amy when it was done and she had tied back the panels with pink and blue cording she’d found at a fabric shop. The curtains made a cozy home for the two cribs nestled inside. She planted her fists on her hips, admiring her work. “Told ya.” I laughed, then stopped when my stomach squeezed again. I glanced at my watch. Nine minutes had passed. Nothing was going to happen anytime soon. Of course, I’d thought the same thing with the diva on the day I got pregnant, and that had taken an interesting turn. “Need anything before I go?” Amy asked as she put the iron and ironing board away. “If you could spare a million dollars and a nanny, I’d take that, but otherwise, I’m fine.” She gave me a hug, leaning over my extended belly to do so. “And you promise to call if you need me?” “Of course.” She placed both hands on my stomach, smiling when she felt one of the babies roll. “You guys take care of Mommy,” she admonished the bundle under my shirt and kissed me on the cheek. When she was gone, I puttered around the apartment, putting away their tiny clothes, then taking a long, hot shower. I’d gotten a wax last week, so I didn’t have to worry about shaving anything, which was a blessing. That was one thing I vowed to keep doing, no matter how tight money might get. I could forgo a lot of things but not having to shave any part of myself was a luxury I didn’t want to give up unless I was on the brink of starvation.
Another contraction came and went, then several in a row before everything stopped. Just stopped. It was like my uterus went to sleep. Pregnancy was weird. I went to bed, propping two pillows behind my back, one between my knees and another between my ankles. “Good night, little nuggets,” I said and turned my light off. Kick. Kick, kick. I sighed, deciding that was baby Morse code for night night, Mommy. “Good night, Daddy,” I murmured as my eyes closed. “Wherever you are.” But as tired as I was, and as heavy as my eyelids were, sleep evaded me as I became more and more uncomfortable. Hours later, I gave up and got out of bed, waddled to the living room, and sat down on the couch. Reaching for the remote, I flipped through the channels but nothing was on. I tried Netflix and settled on reruns of Friends. It was season eight, and I settled happily against the cushions to watch Rachel tell Ross about the pregnancy. I laughed, just like I always did when I watched Ross come unglued, but instead of haha-ha coming out of me… there were tears. I cried a lot now. It seemed that if I wasn’t bitching, I was crying, so it wasn’t really too much of a surprise. If I’d gotten to meet my baby daddy again, I wondered at his reaction. Would he have just sat there stunned like Ross? Screamed? Yelled? Accused me of lying, of them not being his? Or would he have been pleased? After the shock wore off, would he like the idea of the fruits of his loins coming into the world? Would we have chosen names together? Would it have been him instead of Amy who helped me put the cribs together? Would we maybe fall in love? Get married someday? Buy a house with a yard so the children could play? Get a dog who would protect them fiercely? Maybe he’d have parents who would dote on their grandchildren, sneak them candy behind my back. Hours later, I had skipped over several of the episodes and was crying again as Rachel pushed little Emma out. When Ross kissed her, everything was perfect. Well, until Joey messed it all up. Hell, until they all messed it all up. “How can two people who are so clearly meant to be together screw it up so many times?” I asked the television. Clearly, it was a rhetorical question. As dawn approached, lighting up the sky, I finally felt sleepy enough to try the bed again. I didn’t have to work and knew I could sleep late. Climbing back into bed, I arranged all six hundred of my pillows until they were just right. Mercifully, sleep took me but not for long. I dreamed I was being squeezed in a vice by the Jolly Green Giant. He was trying to force-feed me corn on the cob but I kept spitting it out. Finally, the big spinach-colored dude stuffed a watermelon seed down my throat and laughed as it began to grow… and grow… and grow.
As my stomach exploded, I woke up, panting for breath, but the explosion of pain never let up. The pressure was tremendous, and I forced myself to breathe through the agony of it. I checked my watch. I’d slept longer than I thought I had. 11:06 a.m. Pushing up from the bed, I headed to the bathroom to pee, and another contraction hit as I washed my hands. 11:11 a.m. Five minutes. They were much closer than last night. And much more painful than anything I’d felt before. But I refused to get excited until they’d been this way for a while. By two o’clock, the contractions were steady, coming consistently every four minutes. If I could have contorted my body to the correct angle, I would have checked myself. Another contraction hit, a wave of agony this time. It was time to go. I called a taxi, then called Amy and grabbed my bag. “Baby time,” I said when she answered, then held the phone away from my ear when she squealed. “I’ve called a cab and will be on my way soon.” “Okay… I’ll get someone to cover my class and meet you there as soon as I can.” Relief flooded through me. “All right. Thank you so much.” She laughed. “I’m so excited. I get to be a godmother soon!” “You’ll be the best godmother ever,” I promised. “See you soon.” Then I trudged out of my little home, knowing the next time I saw it, my life would be vastly different. The thought was wonderful and terrifying at once.
CHAPTER TEN Langston
“Linda, would you please schedule Mrs. Roberts for a laparoscopic cholecystectomy?” She gave me a little salute. “I’m on it. Another gallbladder bites the dust. Room six is next. One more after that and you’re done for the day.” Grabbing the chart for my next patient, I reviewed it quickly. A follow-up check from a bowel resection two weeks ago. That stopped me in my tracks. Two weeks ago, Dad performed this surgery and I was in Nigeria. Everything was normal at the time he made the first cut. Now, Dad’s patient was mine. Dad’s office was mine. The charts. The scribbled notes with his familiar handwriting. His staff, the ones who continued to look at me with sad eyes. The next two patients took less than half an hour to complete. It would have taken much less if they both hadn’t wanted to talk about my father and what a great man he once was. I made the appropriate noises and head gestures as I examined their healing wounds. I ordered the right tests or referred them to the appropriate specialist for continued followup treatment. I wrote a prescription for an antibiotic. Then I was done. At only a little after four in the afternoon, I’d already finished the clinic schedule for the day, and I wasn’t sure what to do with myself next. This wasn’t close to the kind of life I was used to, with office days and operating room days so neatly filed into a calendar which I was expected to follow. This was what I’d been afraid of. Boredom. The monotony. And I’d only been doing it a few days. Tomorrow would be better, I told myself. I had three surgeries in the books. Two were gallbladders, something I could do in my sleep, but it was something different than checking sutures and pressing bellies. Heading back into Dad’s office — my office — I shrugged out of the white coat and hung it on the hook next to his. I hadn’t had the heart to remove it, might never remove it. Just like I might never change the dark wall color into something lighter I would prefer. Just like I’d probably never take all of Dad’s medical journals off the shelf. I felt like a trespasser stepping on hallowed ground. But this was my life now. Steady. Sedate. For the most part, anyway. There would be emergencies, I knew. There would be a day when the patient schedule was jam-packed.
Dad had slowed down the past couple years, but I could fill it back up. Maybe do some advertising to build the practice to its fullest capacity. I could even offer evening hours for those who had trouble getting off from work. Anything. I could do anything I needed so I wouldn’t have to go home alone. Lonely. I shook the word off, attempted to shake off the woman who had uttered it, and went to stand by the window. The view of the city skyline was beautiful, but I found myself looking down at the streets. That was what I found myself doing often. Looking for red curls, my stomach lurching each time I saw anyone who came close to looking like her. Because I was a fool, I’d gone to the bar where I’d met her last night. I’d nursed three beers, waiting to see if she might step through the door. She didn’t. And she wouldn’t. I knew that. But I couldn’t stop my eyes from scanning the crowds, my gut twisting with hope and desperation. There were over eight million people in the city. Finding one person was like searching a beach to find a particular speck of sand. I had to get over her. Needed to get over her. Maybe Josh was right. I should just go out, find some willing woman to fuck, then screw the little redheaded witch out of my head. “Dr. Kimbrough?” I turned from the window to find Linda standing in my door. “Yes.” “I’m sorry to bother you, but we got a phone call from St. Mary’s, and they are in desperate need of doctors.” I frowned. “When?” Linda lifted both hands. “Now. Today.” I straightened, a sense of foreboding coming over me. I hadn’t heard of any disasters, but I also hadn’t been paying attention to the news. “What happened?” She sighed. “Apparently, there was some National Hospital Week event for the doctors at lunchtime today. There was a sushi bar and half the medical staff has come down with food poisoning.” I stared at her. “You’re kidding.” “Wish I was.” She wrinkled her nose, causing her entire face to wrinkle. “I love sushi, but I might be off it for a while.” I headed her way, jumping at the chance to stay busy. “I don’t have privileges there.” She was a step ahead of me. “I can fax them pertinent information. They can grant you emergency temporary privileges before you can walk through the doors.” I shrugged back into my white jacket. “Wow, food poisoning sure does wax the cogs of a normally slow wheel.”
“You betcha. Text me later to let me know what needs to be done.” She smirked, the older nurse having seen it all. “And don’t slip in anyone’s puke. Don’t need you to break a leg.” I laughed. “Yes, ma’am.” She placed a hand on my arm. “Langston. Sorry, I mean, Dr. Kimbrough. —I” “Call me Langston.” She smiled, her eyes crinkling up at the corners. “I changed your diapers, you know. It’s kinda hard to not think about you as that little boy.” I patted the hand still on my arm. “I know. It’s Langston. Always for you.” She beamed at me. “Well, Langston, it’s good to have you here. I know it’s not what you wanted, but it’s good for you to do it anyway. You’re a good son. Your father adored you and was very proud of you and the man you became.” I swallowed hard. “Thanks, Linda. We’ll make it work.” The bright smile was back. “I have every confidence in you. Remember to be wary of brown puddles on the floor and don’t let any of those cute nurses snatch you up.” She winked, giving me a glimpse of the young nurse she once was. “I’ve heard they’re be polling for New York Hottest Bachelors. Don’t want to miss out on that.” I fake shivered for her benefit. “Gotcha. No puke. No cute nurses with snares. And absolutely no bachelor lists.” She was still laughing as I headed out the door and went through the process of dealing with New York traffic as I headed to where I was needed most.
*** “Thank you for coming, Dr. Kimbrough,” a harried-looking doctor said as I was shown into the emergency room. I stuck out my hand to shake hers. “Glad I could help. And glad you avoided the raw fish.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s a good day to be a vegetarian for sure.” I looked around the busy emergency room. “What do you need me to do?” She looked down at a clipboard in her hands. “Have you signed for temp privileges?” “Yes, just came from administration.” She looked relieved. “Great. What are your specialties? I know you’re a surgeon. So sorry about your father, by the way. But what else can you do? Deliver babies?” She looked up at me hopefully. I nearly groaned, but from the look in her eyes, that was clearly where help was most needed. “Yes. I’m trained in obstetrics, although it’s been a while since I’ve sat through a vaginal delivery. Conducted several C-sections in Nigeria in the past year, so my skills are up for that too, if needed.”
She leaned back against the wall and wiped her forehead with the sleeve of her jacket. “That’s perfect, better than I could have wished for at this point. We have several laboring mothers on the floor, one who is trying for vag delivery but might need to be sectioned. We have one OB up there already. No anesthesiologists. Every damn one of them are raw fish eaters. Got a couple on route to fill in.” While I’d been hoping to stay in the trauma unit, I would go wherever I was needed the most. She gave me directions to the elevator, and I took it to the correct floor, then was buzzed into the secure labor and delivery unit where I was met by a round-faced woman with a huge smile on her face. “Dr. Kimbrough…” she was blushing and breathless, “I’m Melinda, day shift charge nurse for the unit.” She was talking a mile a minute. “Thank you for coming. I’m so sorry about your father. He was such a good man. I worked with him for a few years before coming here. A really good man.” “Thank you.” I looked around the unit with its soft, soothing colors so different from the emergency room. “What do you need me to do?” She looked me up and down, then licked her lips, “C-c-clothes. You need to change.” She blew out a long breath that fluttered her bangs. “Follow me.” Trailing behind her squat form, she led me to the men’s locker room. There, she pointed out fresh scrubs in my size. Then she just stood there, staring at me. “Um, thanks. I’ll take it from here,” I said, shrugging out of my jacket. She didn’t move, just continued to stare as I worked at the tie I hated. “Um, Melinda. I’ll find you when I’m finished.” She jumped, blushed furiously, and turned on her heel. “Of course. I’ll be at the nurses’ station.” I made short work of getting out of my constraining office clothes and into the familiar rough cotton I preferred. Stepping back into the hallway to find Melinda, I stopped short as a screaming woman was being wheeled toward me on a stretcher by two tight-faced men. “I’m not pregnant,” the clearly pregnant woman screamed and tried to climb out of the stretcher. I rushed to assist, another nurse coming on the other side. The woman grabbed me by the front of my scrubs, twisting her hand around the fabric. “Tell them I’m not pregnant so there is no way I can be in labor! I’ll sue this place! Sue!!!” I glanced at one of the men, who was just shaking his head, his lips in a thin line. Using my most soothing tone, I said, “Let’s take a look and see what’s wrong then. Since we’re here, we’ll use one of these rooms.” She seemed to settle, letting go of my shirt and lying back on the pillow, but her eyes had a crazy look about them and she was gnashing her teeth so hard I was afraid they were going to break. She screamed and clutched at her stomach. “I was abducted by an alien,” she panted through the contraction. “It’s trying to bust out. I kept telling them that I wasn’t Sigourney Weaver but they wouldn’t believe me.” I looked at the nurse, motioned for her to come by my side. “Order a psych eval. Keep
at least one of these guys for security. Get blood if you can. We need to find out what she’s on if this isn’t psychological. Have NICU on standby, a pediatrician, if there is one, in the room for delivery.” The nurse seemed capable and was nodding in agreement to everything I said. Just then, another doctor came out of a room. I could hear a wailing baby inside, even over the noises of the woman in front of me. The doctor clapped his hands together, frowning at the writhing patient on the stretcher. “One down. What have we got here?” I was thrilled to hand the screaming patient over to him, giving him a brief update on the situation and the orders I’d made so far. My ears were still ringing as they wheeled the expectant mother into the farthest room down the hall, hoping the best for the baby. Poor kid would probably come into the world addicted to street drugs. Be careful what you wish for was a wise old quote for a reason. I’d wanted some action and adventure, but I just might have bit off more than I wanted to chew. Turning to find the nursing station, I nearly ran over Melinda. Reacting quickly, I grabbed her by the arms to steady her. She blushed, giggled, looked up at me through rapidly blinking lashes. Oh good lord. “What do you need me to do next?” Melinda took a deep breath, trying to rally, I could tell. “Follow me, and I’ll introduce you to a very special patient. She’s one of our nurses, and we all love her to death. There isn’t a father on the scene. The rat left her, can you believe that? Told her he was leaving for some place in Africa or something like that. Knocked her up, but her best friend is in there. She’s nice too. Really tall. I think she used to be a basketball player or something.” For some reason, gravity seemed to be getting heavier and I felt it pressing down on me as Melinda talked almost faster than my ears could track her words. “Here we are. Best room in the entire unit. It’s usually only for VIPs, but Scar is a very important person in our books.” Scar? Melinda pushed open the door, and I stepped inside, hearing only voices at first. “You’re doing great. That’s right. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.” When I stepped past the privacy curtain, my heart dropped into my stomach. Red curls cascaded around a sweaty freckled face contorted into a mask of pure agony. She was panting, the most pitiful little sounds coming from her throat. The world tilted sideways, and I nearly went to my knees. She looked up, blue eyes locking on mine. It was her. “Delilah,” I breathed.
CHAPTER ELEVEN Scarlett
“Samson.” “What?” Amy’s head whipped around, then the hand that had been holding mine squeezed it harder. It was him. How? Why? Where had he come from? Why was he here? “Dr. Kimbrough, this is Scarlett Adler, the nurse I was telling you about.” Melinda was talking, and I could hear her words, but they all seemed to be coming from underwater. “Scarlett, Dr. Kimbrough will be your doctor today. He’s filling in…” Kimbrough. Why did I know that name? Why was that his name? Why was he here? Why was he wearing scrubs? I didn’t understand. And there was no more time for questions because another contraction seized on to me. As it took me in its grip, I looked only at him. I didn’t think two people in the history of the world could ever look more stunned. He wobbled a little to the side but got his feet under him fast enough. Confusion was a living thing on his face as he took a tiny step in my direction. “Aaagghhh!” It was a scream of pain but it also carried my own confusion. And something else. Profound gladness. I’d never been so happy to see anyone in my life. “Dr. Kimbrough…?” Melinda was tugging at his arm, her hands surrounding his biceps, one falling to trace the tattoo poking out from beneath the sleeve. “Is everything all right?” He shook his head. Literally shook his head, his dark hair falling over his forehead, obscuring the line of tension I once traced with my finger.
Then he was in action, stalking across the room in my direction, eyes moving from Olivia, to Amy, to the monitors and back to me. “Holy shit in a hand basket,” Amy said in recognition, and he looked at her again. Nodded. “It appears that way,” he said, the words gritting out from between his teeth. “What’s going on?” Olivia asked, taking a step toward him, her hand out like a stop sign to keep him back. “What the hell is going on?” His eyes latched onto mine again, the amber color blazing into me. “That’s a fantastic question…” he glanced at her name badge, “Olivia. That’s the fucking million-dollar question, isn’t it… Scarlett, is it?” I was overwhelmed. I was hurting. I was at nine centimeters, and so very ready to deliver my babies. But first, I had to know one thing. “What’s your name?” His eyebrows drew together, a flash of confusion in his eyes. “Langston Kimbrough.” I laughed. A little hysterical bark of a sound. In the dead of the night, so many times, I’d prayed to know the name of my babies’ father before they were born. I’d bargained with God or the universe or whoever watched over stupid women to give me that gift. It had felt so shameful not to know it, although I’d never uttered that out loud. I didn’t want the babies to hear it come from my lips. Didn’t want them to know I felt any shame at all where they were concerned. And now I knew it. I fell back onto the bed, the contraction releasing me. The hand of uncertainty let me go too. I burst into tears, and his gorgeous face turned blurry as great heaving sobs made their escape. Langston took another step toward the bed. “Stop!” Olivia said, her voice higher. “Don’t come another step closer until I know what is going on.” I reached for her arm, trying to talk through my tears. “It’s him, Liv.” His eyes bored into mine as I confessed. “He’s… he’s the father.” I gave a small smile that held no humor, and not knowing what else to do, finished with, “Surprise.” Behind him, Melinda hit the floor. “Shit!” Olivia ran over to our fallen supervisor. Langston just stood there, looking at me, much like Ross did in the show. Another contraction sank its teeth — its fangs — into me. Olivia shouted, “She’s nearly at ten. Can you please check her for me?” She ran for the smelling salts and waved them under Melinda’s nose, then pressed some gauze pads to the cut on the charge nurse’s jaw. Langston just stood there, his eyes never leaving mine. Amy yelled in her scariest voice, “Do something, dammit!” That did it. He snapped to attention. I could clearly see the dazed look disappear, replaced with extreme focus.
Heading to the sink, he washed his hands, then pulled on a pair of sterile gloves. “Scarlett. It’s you. I don’t know what to say,” he said as he pulled down the sheet covering my legs and squirted some lube on his fingers. Then he did the kindest thing possible. He pressed his lips to my forehead as he inserted two fingers into my vagina, pressing in deep. “My god, Scarlett. I can feel it. This is really happening.” I clutched at his arm. “I know. I’m sorry. I know. I can’t believe you’re here. I can’t—” He slipped his fingers out as another contraction assaulted me like a full body tackle. “You’re complete.” He stripped off the gloves, tossed them into the nearby trashcan. “She’s ready to deliver,” he said to Olivia, who had gotten Melinda off the floor and into a chair. “Get the room ready.” I started to cry again as the pressure burned between my legs. He grabbed my hand, not even wincing as I squeezed it. He pushed my hair back from my face with his other hand, color coming back into his cheeks. When the death grip had passed, he leaned closer to me. “Scarlett, this is going to sound completely insensitive, especially now, but I have to know…” I nodded, understanding the question before he had to ask it. “You’re the father, Langston. I wasn’t with anyone for months before you, and I haven’t been with anyone since. We’ll do DNA to confirm it for you if you want, but I don’t want anything from you. You can be as involved as you want.” Crap. I sounded like Rachel. “I was planning on doing this on my own. Just because you’re here doesn’t change that.” His jaw tightened. “Why didn’t you call me?” I looked at him, incredulous, but then my belly began to squeeze and the burning got worse, and nothing else mattered but surviving the next minute of pure agony. There was a flurry of movement behind him, and I knew other nurses were coming into the room, pushing the cart with necessary implements, the warmers, all the thousands of things needed to bring these two little ones into the world. “You’re doing so great,” Amy said, stroking a cool washcloth over my forehead and down my cheeks. She pointed at Langston. “You, on the other hand, need to pull your shit together. Get down there and do what you need to do. You two can talk later!” Langston nodded and stepped away as nurses rushed in and adjusted the bed, getting it ready for birth. Langston still looked like he could be knocked over by a gentle wind, but he was pulling on his sterile gown, his cap, and eye protection. He was slipping on a new pair of sterile gloves as another contraction hit me. I knew what was coming next. I could coach a woman on how to push in my sleep. But I was the woman now, and every single bit of that training seemed to have left my brain. When I was told to push, I did, straining as hard as I could, but my eyes never left the man between my legs. “You’re doing great, Scarlett,” he said, his voice firm yet also soothing. “I can see the baby’s head.” He laughed, looking up at me, those golden eyes holding an expression of total awe. “Red hair. He’s got your red hair.”
“She,” I shot back, even though I really didn’t know which baby would be coming first. It made sense. My hair was red so I assumed my daughter would have red hair too. My brother’s hair had been the color of Langston’s. It seemed right that our children’s coloring would be the same. “Here we go,” Olivia said and began to count. The burn. The pressure. “Head is out. She’s beautiful.” Oh my god, Langston was crying, our baby’s head in his hands as he suctioned out her mouth and nose. I looked down, panting hard, waiting for the next contraction so I could push out a shoulder and get this entire thing over. “Okay, let’s get her out,” Olivia said, holding my leg up to my chest. “Push.” She began to count, and I pushed with all my might, watching his big hands welcome our child into the world. “We’ve got a shoulder. Another shoulder.” He was doing it exactly right, calling out each visible part, and I wondered if he was an obstetrician. It was horrible that I didn’t know. “One more push.” I’d barely had to bear down when the baby slithered out in a rush and into her father’s strong hands. He looked up at me. “You’re right. She’s a girl. A beautiful girl.” He was talking but also doing the right things, suctioning before lifting her onto my belly then clamping off the cord and taking blood samples. Olivia moved to assist, and I took the towel from her hands, stimulating my daughter with the rough cloth. There it was. The cry. A little whimper at first, but it began to gain strength as I continued to stimulate her, wiping the excess fluids off so she wouldn’t get cold. Liv was calling out vitals, heart rate and Apgar score, but I didn’t listen. I already knew she was okay. She was perfect. I was in awe of this tiny little miracle on my chest. I pulled down the top of my gown so the baby could lay directly on my skin, then placed a blanket over her while Olivia slipped a little hat on her head. Langston was laughing, cutting the cord himself. Amy was crying beside me, stroking her goddaughter’s cheek, and snapping pictures while Olivia did all the immediate assessments while we were still skin to skin. Langston stood to get a better look. “She’s so tiny,” he said, and stroked her hand with his finger. At the touch, the sweet baby girl opened her eyes and looked straight up at him. My heart squeezed. “She’s four weeks early,” I said and watched him do the mental math in his head, nodding as he stroked a finger down her little cheek, smiling as she made a face, blinking with those big eyes again. I wasn’t ready for the next contraction. I was too busy falling even more in love with the baby on my chest. I wanted a little more time with just her and me — and in some miraculous way, her daddy — but her brother thought differently. I grunted as pain slammed down on me. The baby startled, her arms flailing outwards. Olivia took my
daughter, passing her over to Lorie, who had come in to assist. Langston’s eyes grew wide as he looked everywhere at once. “What’s happening? What’s wrong?” I stared at him. He didn’t know. The poor man didn’t know. “Twins,” I panted and gave him a look of what had to be abject misery. “Surprise.” Like a balloon losing air, he sank onto the stool, his face growing pale as death. Olivia gave him a little shake and began yanking off his soiled gloves. He started blinking rapidly and managed to get the fresh pair on. He checked me automatically, nodding, but didn’t speak. Olivia spoke for him. “Push, Scarlett.” The unflappable nurse began to count as she and Amy held my legs up, and I began to bear down again. And again. And again. “Head.” It was the first word Langston had uttered since I’d told him he was about to be a father of two. But tears were streaming down his face as the shoulders delivered, and the second baby, already crying, came slithering out in a rush of amniotic fluid. “A boy.” A daze-looking Langston placed my son on my stomach and began the work of fixing me up. I took the towel from Olivia, cleaning and stimulating him myself, even though he was wailing quite beautifully on his own. I wanted him on my skin. I wanted him to know who his mommy was. “Hey, sweet boy. Welcome to the world. You, me, and your sister are going to have lots of fun.” Too soon, Olivia took him away. She was right to do so. They were twins. They were early. They needed a better assessment. Amy followed behind, taking pictures I knew I would cherish the rest of my life. After dealing with the cord and delivering the placentas, the man who had haunted my dreams these past months looked up at me, looking a couple years older than he did when he walked into the room. “Any more surprises?” I laughed and weakly shook my head. “I’m so sorry.” He didn’t answer. Didn’t look at me as he sewed me up. When it was done, he stripped off the gloves, then stood, appearing lost as he looked between me and the babies. It was like he didn’t know what to do. Where to go. Say. Be. I couldn’t blame him. Making his decision, he moved around the bed and sat down beside me. He took my hand, engulfing it between his big ones. “I’m Langston,” he said, his eyes searching my face, the tiniest of smiles playing on one side of his mouth.
A little smile played on my face. “Hello, Langston. I’m Scarlett. It’s very nice to meet you.” A baby cried, capturing his attention. He looked over at the warmers, slowly shaking his head. “So, I’m a dad, huh?” I nodded and swallowed hard. “Times two, actually, but like I said—” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to my forehead. “Shhh… we can talk about all that later. For right now, can I just sit here for a moment? This is a lot to take in.” Lifting a hand, I smoothed the lock of hair away, then traced my thumb over the line of tension. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. Really here. I thought I was dreaming when I saw you come into the room.” He snorted a laugh. “Me too. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me, or that this entire sushi thing had been a setup of some kind. An elaborate punk show with me as the star.” “We’ll do DNA so you can be sure,” I said, needing him to never doubt for a second that I might be lying to him, or that there was some sort of mistake. “Shhh… we’re not supposed to be talking about that, remember?” He was right. There would be time for talk later. Time to tear one another apart with questions. Right now was not that time. I nodded. “I remember everything.”
CHAPTER TWELVE Langston
What the fucking fuck? Okay, so there was the obvious what the fuck, but underneath the big one was about a thousand smaller ones. I was having trouble processing them all. How had this happened? Well, that was actually a pretty stupid question. I knew that condoms could fail even with perfect usage, and we hadn’t been perfect, especially the second time I’d made love with her right after pancakes and strawberries. I hadn’t pulled out of her immediately upon climax. Instead, I’d stayed inside her for a very long time, just holding her on my lap as she slept. So, that answered the how it happened question. Next, did I believe her when she said the babies were mine? Yes. The answer was immediate, but I still needed to give it some thought. Did I want a DNA test? Was it dumb not to get the simple test? They could use the blood from the babies’ cords, so nothing else would need to be done there. It would take any lingering question marks away, but would it unravel the extremely fragile connection I had with Scarlett? Would she see it as a lack of faith? I’d think about it later. A wail came from the warmers, catching my attention. I squeezed Scarlett’s hand and stood to walk over to them. A pediatrician had come into the room and was checking them both over. I checked the notes, relieved that they both seemed healthy. Their lungs were clear. Heart rates just right. Reflexes well within range. And they were so adorably awake, looking around with similar what the heck is going on expressions as they were poked and prodded in this strange new world. These were my babies. Were these my babies? They were too young and squishy looking to really get an idea of their features. Their eyes were both newborn blue, but they could certainly change. “Baby girl Adler is five pounds, four ounces,” one of the nurses said, calling out stats as she went. “Seventeen inches.” Adler. They wouldn’t have my last name. The knowledge was a punch in the gut. “Baby boy Adler is six pounds, two ounces. Twenty and a half inches. He’s going to be tall like his dad.” Dad.
That was me. I was a dad. Wasn’t I? Was I? The nurse, Olivia I thought her name was, looked up at me and gave a soft smile. “You did a good job, especially with all the surprises that came flying at you.” I chuckled nervously. Every person in this room knew Scarlett much better than me. Sure, I knew her physically, but there was so much more to her than that. “Thank you. It’s been awhile.” Her eyes widened, and she gaped at me. “You’re kidding. You’re not an obstetrician?” All eyes turned my way. “No. Surgeon, general and trauma. With the food poisoning outbreak, they called me in. I was sent up here because they said there was a laboring woman who might need a C-section. No heads up about anything else. Didn’t even know it was twins. It’s pretty chaotic downstairs.” Olivia slowly shook her head. “What are the odds that it would be you?” I couldn’t even fathom how this journey had gotten me from there to here. “No idea. It seems like there was some kind of guiding force behind it all.” Scarlett’s friend snorted, her camera clicking away at the babies. I ignored her and asked the nurse, “How are they doing?” The nurse smiled up at me. “They’re perfect. Apgars are great. Sounds and reactions are exactly right. I’d say you have Olympic champions in the making here.” She bundled the boy, pulling the blue cap lower to cover his dark hair and ears, then wrapped him tight as a burrito. “Ready to hold the sweetest little boy in the world?” I looked back at Scarlett, who gave me an encouraging nod. My hands began to tremble as the little bundle was placed in my arms. When I didn’t immediately break him, I blew out a relieved breath. “Hey, little guy.” His wrinkled pink face scrunched up, and then he opened his eyes and looked directly at me. This was my son. Test or no test, this child belonged to me, I just knew it. Very carefully, I walked over to Scarlett’s bed and sat down on the side. I didn’t trust my legs to hold me up much longer. The adrenaline fading from my system. The shock of blue eyes and wild curls reentering my life so unexpectedly. They all combined to make me feel less than steady. “You, Scarlett Adler, are a freaking beast.” She smiled. It was the smile I remembered. The smile that showed almost all of her teeth. The smile that transported a pretty face into one that I couldn’t stop looking at. A smile just for me. “You did pretty good yourself, Doctor.” She reached out and stroked the head of the baby in my arms. “So, you really are Dr. McDreamy. Did you turn water into wine?”
I chuckled, froze when the baby startled, then lowered my voice. “No wine. No time for that. I also didn’t do anything as spectacular as push two babies out naturally. Did you even have any pain meds?” Her lips fluttered with her exhale. “Nothing. It took me forever to get here with traffic, so I was already at eight when I arrived. Doctors had already started dropping like flies because of the food poisoning, so it was pretty clear that I didn’t have much choice in the matter.” “You were amazing, Scarlett. I’m sorry you had to do this alone.” She ran a finger down the baby’s cheek, and he snapped his mouth toward it, making me smile. “I think he’s hungry.” “Do you plan to nurse?” She nodded enthusiastically. “For as long as I can manage it.” She began to adjust her gown to pull one side down before looking up at me. She licked her lips, a blush creeping up her cheeks. “Is this okay? I mean… this is such a drastically different me than the me you saw back in September. I know I look like a different person.” Her hand fell to her belly, and I adjusted the baby in my arms to cover her hand with mine. I felt the softness of the stretched and still very swollen skin beneath the gown. I’d seen the stretch marks earlier. Her vagina opening and tearing, changing as it delivered two miracles into existence. Her face was puffy, as were her hands and feet. Sweat had matted pieces of her hair to her skin, and the curls seemed droopier than I remembered, probably exhausted too from her ordeal. “I’ve never known anyone so beautiful.” Tears appeared in her eyes, and she gave a dry little laugh. “Now you’re Dr. McLiar.” Silence stretched, lengthened, and wound its way around us. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you. I wish I had known.” I squeezed her hand. “I would have—” “You would have what?” she interrupted, not unkindly, but an intensity darkened her expression. “You would have come back? You would have voluntarily been tied down, which is the one thing you said you most feared. You would have—” That’s why she didn’t call me? “Yes. Yes, I would have come back. I would have helped, done something. Anything. I had the right to know.” Her eyes narrowed, her nostrils flaring a bit. “And how exactly was—” “Let me check your bleeding,” a different nurse said, coming up on the opposite side of the bed. The nurse gave me a hard why are you upsetting her, you dumbass look. And she was right. This wasn’t the time for this discussion. My job was to be supportive and help however I was needed. The nurse snapped on a pair of gloves and compressed Scarlett’s belly, doing the postpartum checks, and changing the protective pads beneath her. I watched intently, having never seen the aftermath of a baby, or babies, being delivered. “Bleeding is normal. Stitches look good. I’ll bring you a tray, and we’ll get you up and walking soon. Want to
try nursing now?” “Yes, I want to nurse, and yes, I’m starving.” Scarlett wrinkled her nose. “No sushi. No fish period.” There was a soft chuckle of agreement. The baby whimpered in my arms, and I looked down at him. “What’s his name?” She licked her lips. “I was thinking Samuel, after my brother.” She frowned and met my eyes, worry flickering across her expression. “If that’s okay with you.” The connection between us was so tenuous, as thin as a strand of silk, but it could grow stronger as it was woven into the fabric of time. It had to grow stronger. It just had to. “I think Samuel is perfect. Will I get to meet your brother soon?” Pain became a mask on her face. “He died a long time ago. He was my twin.” She looked at the baby still in my arms. “They run in my family.” “I’m so sorry.” There was so very little I knew about her, but I knew her name. The rest I could figure out and learn as we spent more time together. “Thank you.” Looking into my son’s eyes, I thought of my father. “I know I don’t have the right to ask you for anything,” I began and cleared my throat, “but what do you think about Joseph for a middle name, after my father?” Tears welled in my eyes again. Since I met this woman, something inside me changed. My hands shook and I, dammit, cried. Maybe the ice around my heart wasn’t as solid as I thought it was after all. She smiled. “Samuel Joseph. I love it.” She reached out and touched my hand. “Melinda was talking about a Dr. Kimbrough passing away recently. Was that… was he your father?” I nodded. “Yeah. That’s why I came back from Nigeria early. It’s why I’m here now.” We were both quiet, both of us processing the chain of events that had occurred to bring us together. “So, you really did fly out that morning?” I met her eyes, made sure she saw the truth in mine. “Yeah. I really did. You sleep like a dead person.” Why didn’t you call me? I opened my mouth to ask her when the nurse approached with the other baby, my daughter, in her arms. She was even smaller than the one I was currently holding. “It’s lunchtime, Mommy,” the nurse said. “Let’s see how they do.” “Want to hand Samuel off to me?” Scarlett suggested as she adjusted her gown. “Give you a few minutes with her?”
I managed to juggle the baby around and hand him to her without killing him, which gave me courage to hold the next. It was like holding air. My daughter was so pretty, her squinting little eyes blinking up at me. Very carefully, I laid her on the bed and unwrapped the blanket. I wanted to see her fingers, count her toes. I’d delivered a few babies but had never handled one past medical necessity. “What’s her name?” I asked, something melting deep inside me as she grasped my finger with her tiny hand. “I’ve been thinking of either Sofi or Silla. Elizabeth is Amy’s last name. She’s going to be their godmother, so unless you have any objections, I want that to be in there too.” I turned to look at the woman we were speaking about, and she lifted her camera and clicked. “I… love them both.” I nearly told her I didn’t think I had the right to offer an opinion, especially after she kindly allowed my father’s name to live on. We were tiptoeing around each other, I realized. Both of us watching each other warily, waiting for some explosion we had no hope of escaping. An auburn brow lifted. “So, Sofi okay with you?” I looked down at the little girl and began wrapping her back up, worried she might get cold, even in the overly warm room. “It’s perfect. I’ve never needed to think about naming anyone, but you’re right. She actually looks like a Sofi, I think.” Scarlett nodded but was intently working to help Samuel nurse. Something else inside of me shifted as I watched the process of a baby figuring out a new way of living for the first time. The miracle of human resiliency as he adapted to being cast out of his warm, comfortable environment where everything was done for him to having bright lights in his eyes, a nipple stuck in his mouth, the process of sucking, knowing it was what he needed to do. He spit it out at first, making funny faces then wailing some more. But Scarlett was so patient with him, and when he latched on and began to suck, her eyes widened, and she looked up at me, a smile spreading on her face. “I did it. We’re doing it.” Scarlett’s face seemed to change, transforming in front of me. She had been a woman before, but now, she transcended femininity. It was like holding up a prism to the light and watching all the colors dance inside. Then, you turned the prism, and colors and patterns came to life. This was Scarlett. Her prism had turned. And I was the luckiest son of a bitch to have witnessed it. “That’s my boy,” I crooned to the infant, surprised at how natural it was to think of him like that. My eyes locked with Scarlett’s, and I knew we were both remembering me worshipping her breasts, teasing the nipples with my tongue. Breasts that now carried a higher purpose beyond physical pleasure. It was crazy that I’d only met Scarlett twice, and how both meetings were so vastly different. “Ready for the next?” I asked, completely incompetent and helpless in knowing what to do. I knew very little about breastfeeding beyond the basics of human anatomy,
especially nursing twins. It made sense that she would nurse them at the same time or else she would be nursing around the clock, giving her no time to rest. Scarlett nodded, and the nurse came up to assist, stuffing pillows all around her. She unlatched Samuel, who clearly wasn’t ready to be unlatched, and turned him until his feet were facing the other way. Catching on, I settled Sofi in a similar position and the same process began of introducing the nipple, it getting spit out, then the baby having the moment of wow… this is good and munching down with fervor. Sofi might be smaller, but she was quick to catch on. “Olivia,” Scarlett whispered to the nurse, “will you get a DNA kit for Langston?” I jerked back in surprise and the nurse’s eyes slid toward me. “That’s not necessary,” I said quickly. Scarlett’s expression was firm. “It is. I want it in black and white. I never want there to be a single question in your mind. If you’re going to be part of the babies’ lives, I need you to be absolutely sure.” I stared at her. If I was going to be part of their lives? Did she not want me in their lives? In her life? Was she not one hundred percent sure after all that I was their father? Was she doing this for herself as well? Or was she wanting it done only for my peace of mind? It didn’t matter. There were too many question marks. With a simple test, they could all be eliminated. “Fine. How quickly can your lab get the results back?” The nurse blinked at me. “Three to five days, normally. They can rush it and be as quick as twelve hours, twenty-four at most.” “Rush it,” I said, a little harsher than I meant to. “You have to pay out of pock—” I softened my voice. “That’s fine. I’ll cover the charges.” I looked at Scarlett. “I’ll cover all the charges. I’ll take care of the bill and any of your doctor bills too.” There was a flash of relief on Scarlett’s face before it transformed into something more mulish. “That isn’t necessary. I can—” I shook my head. “Be quiet, Scarlett.” “Don’t you tell her to be quiet!” That came from Amy, who smacked me in the back of the head. It wasn’t a love tap either. My back teeth rang with the blow. I whirled around to face her. “I didn’t—” I’d forgotten how tall she was until her finger was in my face. “You do nothing but use your kindest, most gentle voice with her. Got it? You did this. You knocked her up and then just jetted off to wherever without looking back.” “I—” “How stupid do you have to be to get someone pregnant in this day and age?” she snarled, her face red and furious. She poked me in the chest. “Is that what you do,
Doctor.” She spit out the word as if it tasted bad. “You just go around fucking innocent women, slinging your DNA left and right, then move on to the next without a backward glance? How many other children do you have sprinkled around the globe? Are you going for a record?” It’s wrong to hit a woman, I repeated in my head as my fists clenched at my sides. “That is not how it happened. I didn’t want to leave. I—” “Take it outside!” the nurse yelled and one of the babies began to cry. I whirled around to find Scarlett with tears running down her face, trying to jostle the baby back to her breast. I sank back down on the bed, wanting to help but was so outside of my wheelhouse that I felt completely useless. My head was still swimming from the information overload I’d experienced in the past hour. And underneath it all, I was just so fucking happy to see Scarlett, the woman who hadn’t been far from my mind these past months. With my thumb, I wiped away one of her tears. “I’m sorry.” Amy huffed out a big breath behind me. I inhaled deeply, ignoring her. “I’m here now. I won’t—” The door opened and the charge nurse from earlier came rushing in. “Dr. Kimbrough!” she yelled. I jumped to my feet. She had a large bandage on her face. Holy shit. What happened to her? “Dr. Kimbrough, we need you down the hall!” I stared at her, then turned in a circle, taking in Scarlett, the babies, the glaring Amy, the nurse. Christ, I didn’t know what to do. “Dr. Kimbrough! Now!” “Go,” Scarlett urged wearily, still working with the baby who refused to continue to nurse. “Yeah, just go,” Amy spat. “That should feel familiar.” It is very very very wrong to hit a woman. “Dr. Kimbrough! Hurry!” I narrowed my eyes at Amy, and this time, it was my turn to point a finger in her face. “This isn’t done.” She raised to her full height. Damn. She was scary as all hell. “No, it’s not. Not by a long shot.” “Dr. Kimbrough!” Damn it all to hell. With a last look at Scarlett and my children, I ran from the room.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN Scarlett
As the door closed behind Langston, I flashed a furious look at Amy, who was still staring narrowed-eyed at the door. “What in the world do you think you’re doing?” She lifted a shoulder and turned to face me. “Making him work for it.” I shook my head, then was distracted with Samuel who kept spitting out my nipple and screaming like someone was stabbing his ego. When he finally latched on, I turned my focus back on my friend. “Work for it? Why?” She planted her hands on her hips in that schoolteacher way that made her tall frame look even bigger. “He can’t just waltz in here and be some hero delivering the babies and then voila…” she waved her hand in the air like a crazy magician, “just think he can suggest names and pay bills and that you’ll lovingly do whatever he wants. It isn’t right!” “She’s right,” Olivia added and Lorie came closer, nodding too. “You don’t have to be bitchy about it…” she gave Amy a hard look, clearly adding like some people in her head, “but you need to stand up for yourself. You need to decide if you want him here, decide how this needs to work. Don’t let him bully you and don’t let your hormones overwhelm or choose for you.” “And the decision doesn’t have to be right now, today, or tomorrow,” Lorie added. “Don’t let him or anyone else pressure you.” I took a deep breath and looked down at the babies. Samuel was sucking about four times to every swallow, so I took him off the breast to burp him. Thank god I knew what to do. Well, at least I did for other mothers. I’d find out if it translated when it came to myself. His warm body settled over my shoulder, then he promptly spit a mouthful of milk into my hair. Wonderful. I took the cloth from Olivia’s hand and wiped it off while she took the baby and did the burping for me. We worked in tandem just as we always did. “Can I get a hair tie?” I asked and felt better when my mop was high on top of my head. I lifted Sofi to my shoulder and burped her, then switched breasts, taking Samuel back from Olivia to nurse again. Already, all of this was overwhelming, and I had help. I couldn’t imagine how challenging it was going to be in a couple days when I was juggling all of this by myself. I’d probably have one of them fat and one of them skeletally thin after forgetting which one I was feeding. I’d probably drop one on his or her head, maybe both of them. I wouldn’t have enough milk, then be mommy-shamed for having to revert to formula. The screaming of two babies would annoy the neighbors and I’d get kicked out of my apartment and have to raise them in the streets because I didn’t even have a car to be homeless in.
Pure panic weaved its sinuous body through my brain, and it refused to slither back into its hateful den. “Breathe, Scarlett,” Olivia said and touched her fingers to my pulse. “In through your nose, nice and deep. Out through your mouth.” She spent a few seconds making noisy inhale and exhalations for me to use as a guide. I smiled, hoping a flash of teeth would prove that I was okay. Olivia adjusted my mess of curls on top of my head and gave my shoulder a squeeze. Lorie sat down on the foot of the bed, and I moved my legs over to make room for her. “Do you love him, Scar?” I was surprised at the question and knew why she asked it. Anytime someone was in emotional highjack, we would ask them questions, which forced the logical side of their brain to start working. My smile was more genuine this time, a gesture of appreciation at her efforts more so than the question she had tossed out at me. “Love?” I searched my heart and shook my head. “No. I mean… no. Of course not. I don’t know him. I only spent a couple hours with him, remember?” I looked down at the babies, who I’d only known a very short time. I was madly in love with them. Why, as a human race, were we not allowed to love an adult just as quickly? Why did we have to make it so hard? “Could you? Love him, I mean?” Her dark eyes were serious as she stroked a hand up and down my calf. Flashes of him kissing me. The look in his eyes then, and today, when he first walked into this room. His intensity. The way I’d felt since our short time together. The way my skin still felt the touch of his fingers, my lips longed for his. The joy that had overridden the fear of having his children. Because they gave me a piece of him, something I could cling to of his memory. I remembered every detail about that night. From the moment I noticed him noticing me to the moment we kissed on the sidewalk. When he pushed me against the door, lifting me until I could wrap myself around him. Ripping my shirt open. Laying me on the bed. His tongue in my mouth, on my breasts, inside of me. His fingers, his thick cock. Looking into his eyes as I exploded with the greatest pleasure I’d ever known. I shivered, and Olivia pulled a blanket up higher on my lap. The gesture brought me back to the room. Back to the women who were my friends and who I absolutely loved like sisters. “I don’t think I know him enough to answer that question, to be honest. I was a little slut, remember?” My laugh held more than a little bitterness as all three women chided me for saying such a thing. “He was on his best behavior, you know? So was I. We didn’t get a chance to see the bad side of each other.” Amy snorted. “Well, he got to see your bad side today.” I groaned, and Lorie continued to stroke my leg, offering a soothing touch. “And he
didn’t run away from it,” she reminded me, giving Amy a narrowed-eyed look. “He actually did a great job of stepping in. Most men would have been flat on their backs or would have turned on their heels and be miles away by now, but he pulled through. Your stitches look like a plastic surgeon sewed you up, so you’ve got to give him points for that.” Olivia laughed, and as if she remembered I was still an actual patient, sat down and began pressing on my uterus. “Did you see his face when he first saw you? Then when he found out it was twins? I’ve never seen someone so shocked in my life, and I’ve seen a lot of shocked faces, believe you me.” “Speaking of shocked, why did Melinda pass out? She’s like a rock. Nothing ever phases her.” Olivia and Lorie exchanged a look, their eyes shining with humor. “I think Melinda has a huge crush on the good doctor,” Olivia offered. “The second you said he was the father, the blow of him being off the market was too much for her to take.” I rolled my eyes. “He’s not off the market, guys.” Amy popped me in the forehead, and because I was holding two newborns, I couldn’t hit her back. “He better be off the market, or I swear I’ll cut his balls off. He better not leave you again.” “Amy, he has a life. A life that I was a participant in for about a total of five hours. Six, if you count him catching his surprise children before they dropped to the floor.” Lorie patted my leg. “We’d have never let that happen.” I laughed. She was so cute. Then I looked back at Amy. “I need time to think, okay? Everyone keeps talking about it being a surprise for him, but it was a pretty big surprise for me too. I honestly thought I’d never see him again. I honestly thought I’d be raising these kids by myself. I honestly had tried my hardest to forget about him, and forget about that night, and forget about how I felt being with him… then he was just here. Midcontraction, he just appeared out of nowhere. I thought I was hallucinating, I really did. Or had a stroke or something. And now I don’t know what to think or do.” Lorie, my forever champion, added, “It is like a miracle for him to be here.” I nodded. “What are the chances of him being here like this?” “Lucky ass bastard,” Amy muttered. She wasn’t completely ready to give up on being angry. I knew her, and she’d come around. Lorie pointedly ignored her. “That’s one of the reasons I think you should give him a chance. At least be open to seeing how things go. I mean, the chances have to be astronomical that he’d be brought back here, on this day, at this particular time, to this particular hospital, to this particular patient.” “With that particular bar of sushi taking out half of the medical staff,” Olivia added. “Lorie’s right. There is some strong juju going on here, pushing you two together.” I looked up at Amy. “Speaking of particulars, we weren’t even supposed to be at that particular bar that night, remember? Dana’s cousin was in that jazz band and begged us to
go there instead of to Lydia’s. We never go that far out. You hate the airport traffic. But that’s where we went that night. The exact same place as him.” “I’m going to kick Dana’s ass.” But the grumble was gone from her voice, and she raised her camera to take another picture. She sighed and sank onto the bed beside me. “I just don’t want him and his doctordom to come in thinking he can take over your life and tell you what to do.” “I know. I don’t want that either. But I have to say, that in the addition to the surprise, I was thrilled to see him. I wish it could have been eight months or even eight weeks ago, but for some reason, it was now.” “The two of you look really good together,” Lorie offered, the biggest optimist in the group. Olivia waggled her eyebrows. “And the way you two looked at each other was hot. I mean, the temperature in the room was scorching.” I sighed, relaxing back into the pillow. “He is handsome, isn’t he?” “And did you see the size of his hands?” Olivia got a dreamy look in her eyes before giving me an oops look. “Sorry, couldn’t help but notice.” I remembered those hands. In my hair. On my breasts. Long fingers moving inside me. “Good grief,” Amy said, rolling her eyes to the ceiling, then held them there like she was searching the heavens for some intervention. “Wipe that look off your face. You just had two babies, and you’re fantasizing already?” The girl could read my mind. “No sex for six weeks,” Olivia said. “Officially off the record, you can mess around at four,” Lorie countered. “Well, if we’re officially off the record, a lot of couples have sex once the stitches have healed,” Olivia shot back. “No one waits that long, anyway. But that’s not the point. You should wait until at least five. Make him wait it out.” “Why are we having this discussion?” I asked, feeling my face turning red. “Look at me. I’m a sagging, stretch marked, milky mess. And he saw my gaping… hole spit out a couple kids right in his face. I highly doubt he’ll want to come within a mile of my vagina, breasts, or…” I blew hot breath into my hand and cringed. “And why didn’t any of you tell me my breath smelled like six cats took a crap in my mouth?” They all laughed, but I didn’t find it funny in the least. I blew again. Jesus, my breath was disgusting. “I’m serious. I need something to drink!” Olivia poured a glass of water and held the straw to my lips. Lorie pulled a rumpled looking mint from her pocket and yanked off the wrapper before popping it in my mouth for me. Slightly mollified, I burped the babies again before handing them over for their first baths and additional assessments. As horrible as it was to admit to myself, it felt good to have a minute to myself and let someone else do the work. I was tired. My bottom hurt.
My ribs hurt. My jaw hurt from clenching my teeth. An announcement came from the overhead speakers. “Code silver, OB. Code silver, OB.” Olivia and Lorie jumped to their feet while my heart jumped into my throat. “I’ll go,” Lorie said and placed Sofi back in my arms before running from the room. Amy took Samuel from Olivia, who raced across the room and wedged the toe of her shoe against the bottom of the door. Having locks on patient doors was a catch twenty-two situation. We needed to be able to reach patients with no barriers, but in code situations like this, we couldn’t bar the doors. Amy’s eyes were wide. “What’s happening?” “Code silver means there is a combative person with a weapon on the floor,” I told her. She pulled Samuel close to her throat, and I did the same to Sofi. “Why would anyone have a weapon around babies?” It was a good question. But the bigger question racing through my mind was about Langston and his safety. I now knew why Melinda was in such a big rush. I kissed Sofi’s head. Please let these babies’ daddy be all right.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN Langston
“What’s going on?” Melinda ran beside me, three steps to my much longer stride. “The patient in six has gotten combative. She kicked Dr. McCormick in the face. I think his nose is broken.” I heard the woman screaming from down the hallway. “Is that what happened to your face?” I asked, and the charge nurse’s hand went to the bandage on her jaw, and a blush painted two red circles on her cheeks. “That’s nothing. I’m okay.” I didn’t have time to question her further. “What’s the patient’s status? She’s been here for, what, nearly an hour? Has anyone been able to check her? The baby?” “No. That hasn’t been possible. They’re hoping to avoid restraining her and have been trying to keep her calm until psych arrives.” “Let me guess. The psychiatrist loves sushi.” “Ding, ding, ding. You’re a winner, chicken dinner.” I shot her a look. What the hell did that mean? I shook off the question, refocusing on what I was running into. “Terrific. Who else is in the room with her?” “Allie is the RN. Susan is an LPN we called in for assistance.” “I thought they were going to leave one of the escorts as some type of security.” Melinda shot me a look. “Dr. McCormick sent him away, said he wasn’t needed.” I reached the door and took a deep breath as the woman on the other side screamed curses at the top of her lungs. Then she simply screamed, in pain this time, and I pushed open the door and took a quick assessment of the room. Shit. The doctor was on one side of the room, his hand over the broken nose which was gushing blood. One nurse was near the window, her hands held out like she was defending herself. In the corner, the patient was naked, and she had her arm around another nurse, a scalpel at her throat. “Oh my god,” Melinda breathed. “She didn’t have a scalpel when I left.” It was madness, and I pushed Melinda behind me, back toward the hallway. “Call a code, we need assistance,” I said to the charge nurse, keeping my voice low. “No!” the patient screamed and touched the blade to the skin of the terrified woman, cutting her enough that a bead of blood trailed down her neck. “Get in here.” She pointed the scalpel at me, then back at the nurse’s throat. “Both of you. Close the door or I’ll cut
her. I swear I will.” I held my hands out in a placating gesture and stepped farther inside. I will never, ever, ever ask for more action in my life. Boredom was looking pretty good from my current point of view. “Please, let the nurse go,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “This isn’t going to help you get the alien out. Isn’t that what you want?” All eyes turned on me. The patient’s eyes were jittery, pupils contracted to pinpricks within eyes that were red-rimmed, the pink sclera contrasting sharply against the light blue of her irises. “It’s trying to kill me,” she moaned, the scalpel touching the nurse’s skin again. More blood ran down the young woman’s throat, but to her credit, she didn’t move or make a sound. Thinking quickly, I went with the story I thought was playing in her deranged head. “I know. I’ve seen this before. We need to work quickly though. Can I come closer? I need to see if I can feel the position of the alien. We need to keep it face down before it can do more damage. Do you understand?” Indecision flickered in her gaze. “Just you,” she said and then pointed the blade at the other doctor. “He’s on their side.” She said the words in a terrified whisper. “He tried to rape me too. His fingers. He tried to—” A contraction hit her and she ran out of words. With each squeeze of her belly, the blade moved closer to the nurse’s carotid artery. Dr. McCormick bristled and stood up straighter, his hands dropping from his bloody nose. “I never touched her that way. I—” I glared at him. “Get out!” I shouted dramatically. “Nurse Melinda, call the police. We need this man arrested immediately.” The stupid asshole didn’t have the sense to play along. “I never—” “Shut the fuck up,” I roared at him and shoved Melinda in his direction. “Escort him out and make the call.” Unlike the blustering man, the charge nurse understood what I was trying to do, and grabbed the doctor by the arm. If the patient didn’t still have the knife at the nurse’s throat, I would have laughed when Melinda began reading the doctor his Miranda rights as she forced him out of the door. Now what the hell do I do? What did Melinda say the nurses’ names were? And which one was which? “Allie?” I guessed, and the nurse in front of the window whipped her head toward me. I let out a breath. “What is our patient’s name?” “No identification, Doctor.” She was strong. Scared but keeping it together. She lifted her chin, her eyes on me. “What tools shall I prepare for the alien removal?” From the hallway, I heard the call for Code Silver, glad that Melinda had possessed enough wits about her to turn the intercom off in this room.
“I need to check the alien’s position,” I told her then faced the deranged woman. “Please come lie on the bed.” She eyed me wearily, her hands shaking, but I kept my face carefully blank. “You’re trying to trick me,” she said. “Everybody thinks I’m stupid or crazy, but I’m not. It was a big ship. Bigger than the Empire State Building. They did things to me. Bad things.” The woman was pitiful. I could see the scars of track marks on her arms. Her teeth were falling out. Lesion marks were all over her face. Her hair was so thin I could see her scalp, which looked to contain layers of dead skin. “You didn’t deserve those bad things to happen to you. I’m so very sorry. Right now, we need to focus on getting it out. Did they tell you what to do with the baby alien once it was born?” “Yes.” Her eyes whipped side to side, as if she was reading some unseen instructions. “They said that I was supposed to find Mary and a manger. I’m supposed to go there. They said the alien would know what to do.” I processed her words. St. Mary’s Hospital. Mary and the manger. Got it. I looked at the LPN, who was still bleeding but looking a little less terrified. “Can you please get the manger for our patient?” “Y-yes. It’s in the h-hall closet with the Christm—” “Very good.” I looked back at the patient and took a step closer. When she didn’t flinch, I took another. “Please let her go so she can get the manger. You said we need it, and I need Allie in here to help get the alien out. What were the other instructions?” She was blinking rapidly, the knife still at the nurse’s throat. I saw the indecision. The fear. The hope. Very slowly, she lowered the blade and the LPN immediately stepped outside her reach. She headed straight in my direction. “Th-thank you, Doctor. I’ll be back with the manger. Is there anything else you need?” She met my eyes full on, her chin lifting. “I’ll bring back whatever you need.” These nurses were fucking excellent. In the corner, the addict groaned and bent over, the agony on her face absolutely heartbreaking. “We’ll need the alien disposal bed. We’ll also need the alien disposal team. I believe my standard tools will be sufficient.” I hoped she could read between the lines. She nodded and left the room. Allie, the other nurse, let out a long breath. I faced the addict, giving her a moment to let the contraction fade away. “Please get in the bed so I can determine the position and how best to proceed.” The woman’s face contorted into a scream that didn’t reach her throat, and a small part of me, the Sigourney Weaver fan in me, watched in pure fascination and horror as I expected some strange being to crawl out of her mouth. “It’s killing me. It’s eating my insides. It’s eating my heart.” It was Allie’s turn to scream when the patient brought the blade down, but this time, in her own stomach. Blood flew from the cut, and she stabbed herself again.
“I’ve got to get it out,” she cried. Allie was closer, and she lunged, grabbing the woman’s wrist. I was across the room a second later. I clamped my hand above Allie’s, then turned the struggling patient until her back was against my chest, my other arm pinning her against me. The moment the nurse had removed the scalpel and tossed it away, I said, “We need backup, Allie. Restraints. Inform OR that we’re on our way.” Damn. I hoped like hell we had an anesthesiologist in the house. “Let me die,” the patient said, her struggles growing weaker as she cried. “Please let me die.” Allie was gone in a flash, then back with what seemed like an army behind her. Things moved quickly after that, and we were able to get the woman restrained, and I was helping to push the bed to the operating room, sweat pouring down my temples. She was bleeding from the various stab wounds, amniotic fluid diluting the red of the blood. The scalpel’s blade wasn’t long, but enough to do some damage. And if she’d managed to hit the placenta, she and the baby were in serious trouble. “Why was there a scalpel in there anyway?” I couldn’t think of a reason a labor and delivery room would need one. Allie’s jaw tightened. “McCormick prefers them to scissors for episiotomies.” What the hell? “Well, he better not anymore.” As they prepped and put the patient to sleep, I scrubbed up, counting the seconds ticking by in my head. Then I had her open and was cutting down to the uterus, then carefully through it. Before I even lifted the baby out, I knew we were too late. The little boy was gone. He probably had been gone for days from what I could tell visually, but I handed him over for resuscitation efforts anyway. I just stared at his perfect form for a moment as they worked on him. I’d seen death, too much of it, but this hit me hard. Maybe it was because I now had a child — children — of my own that it affected me so much. Allie laid a hand on my arm as I turned back to the patient and began the process of stopping the placental bleeding, delivering it, then sewing her back up. She would be in critical condition for several days, but unless something secondary occurred, she would live. If you could call her existence really living. “Thanks for helping us back there,” Allie said, her fingers trembling now that the crisis was over. “You were fantastic,” I told her, meaning it. I looked over at the baby again. “Wish we could have saved the boy.” Allie frowned at the sleeping woman. “Me too. I’ll never understand drugs and the power they possess over people.” I tucked the uterus back inside the abdominal cavity. “Hope you never do.” She nodded. “Amen.”
After I finished sewing her up, the police came, and I gave my statement as the mother went into recovery and the baby was taken to the morgue. Once she was released from the hospital, she would most likely go to prison on a variety of charges. I was torn about that. A part of me wanted her buried under the jail. Another part remembered the pure terror in her eyes. It sucked all the way around. When I was free to go, I headed back to labor and delivery. I wanted Scarlett. I wanted to see someone pure and clean, someone unscarred by the evil part of the world. I showered in the men’s locker room first, not wanting to bring a speck of the misery I’d just experienced into her room. When I passed by the nurses’ station, many of the nurses were gathered there. Susan, the LPN, had a bandage on her throat. I smiled at the very young woman. “You were incredible in there, I told her.” She took a deep breath, her fingers automatically moving up to her bandage. “So were you. McCormick was a total dick to her. She just needed someone to be on her side.” “You held it together remarkably well. Have you thought about going after your RN?” She sighed, shaking her head. “I wish. Things are just so expensive, you know? Maybe some day.” Some day was now. I snatched a sticky note and ink pen from the desk. I jotted down the name of my foundation’s director along with his email and phone number. “Call this number. Tell him that Dr. Kimbrough referred you personally. It’s a foundation that helps health care professionals further their education.” She took the note from my hands, her eyes wide. “Really? I… I can’t get financial aid because my parents make too much money, and I still live with them. So I probably won’t —” “You’re the perfect candidate for this particular foundation,” I assured her. “Call him. If you have any problems, call my office. Or let Scarlett know. She’ll be able to reach me.” If I have to tattoo my phone number to her arm. The girl, who couldn’t even be twenty years old yet, looked dazed. “Thank you so much.” Olivia smiled at me. “She was asleep a little bit ago, but go on in. The babies are in the nursery so she can rest.” I met her eyes. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” She nodded and stood, following me down the hallway. I felt every eye on us as we went. “What do you need?” “The DNA test. I’d like you to take the sample now.” Olivia leaned against the wall, looking very tired. “The babies are yours, you know.” There wasn’t a shadow of doubt in her eyes.
I scrubbed my face with my hands and leaned against the wall too. “I know that, but I want to do this for Scarlett even more than for myself. I think that she needs to prove it to me, to make sure I have no doubts that could fester into some mental infection. At least that’s the feeling I’m getting from her.” “You’re right. She does need that. She’s a very good person.” “I know. I knew it right away. There’s still a great deal we need to learn about each other, but I don’t question that. And I don’t want the question of paternity to be anywhere in her thoughts.” Olivia jammed her hands into her pockets. “Don’t hurt her, okay? She’s been through a lot. She had to quit school so she could use the tuition money for maternity leave and baby things. She’ll always put the children first, no matter the price she personally has to pay.” If I didn’t feel like a dick before, I sure felt like one now. “I didn’t know that she was still going to school.” Hell, I didn’t know her middle name. Her age. Where she was born. “I know you didn’t know. There are a lot of things you don’t have a clue about with her, and a lot of things she doesn’t know about you.” “I’m hoping that will change.” A smile played on the corners of her mouth. “Be easy with her. She’s been on her own for a long time now, and while I’m sure she will appreciate any help you give her, don’t try to take over and boss her around. She has too much pride for that.” It was good advice. “What else does she like and doesn’t like?” Olivia tapped her lips with her fingers. “She drinks a lot of smoothies and flavored teas, iced and hot. Her comfort foods are grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Oh, and mashed potatoes. She doesn’t like cut flowers because they remind her of funerals, but she loves live plants, especially ones that bloom. Oh… she makes pottery in her spare time. Nothing big time because she doesn’t have a kiln or anything like that, but she has a pottery wheel and she loves to take classes if she ever has time.” “Mangoes. I know she likes mangoes.” Olivia grinned. “Yes. I forgot that one. She loves them. She loves all kinds of fruit. Peanut butter and crackers are a staple.” “Pancakes.” The kind nurse’s eyes softened. “See? You know her better than you think.” Uncertainty still coiled in my gut. It had actually been living there since the day after I met Scarlett in the bar. Why hadn’t she called me? Had our time together meant so little to her? When she learned she was pregnant, why didn’t she contact me then? “I liked her right away,” I confessed. Olivia’s lips pressed into a thin line. “The timing was bad.” “Yeah. It was, but I’m here now, and I want to be part of this.”
The nurse nodded. “All right. Let’s get this one thing done so you two can put the issue of paternity into the past. Scarlett has already signed the consent forms for the babies, so I can get that processed right away.” I pushed away from the wall. “Good. Let’s get it done then.” I followed her down the hallway, signed my own consent forms, and submitted to her swabbing the inside of my cheek for a sample. “Be sure to do a rush.” She sealed everything up. “I will, and I’ll deliver it myself right now.” “Thank you.” She smiled again. “You’re very welcome.” “Have you or the staff had time to eat dinner?” I asked when she pulled a bag of chocolate covered raisins from her pocket. “No. They’ve closed the café for some big health inspection thing.” “I thought it was the sushi bar.” She shrugged. “It probably was, but they’re inspecting everything just in case. You know, administration overload.” I pulled out my wallet and handed her my credit card. Her eyes widened as she just looked at it. I slipped it into her pocket. “Order food for the entire staff. And not just pizza either. Real food. Steak. Lobster. Pasta. Whatever you all want. If the restaurant doesn’t deliver, call a service if someone isn’t free to run out.” She blinked at me. “Lobster?” I grinned at her. “Whatever. It’s not every day that a man delivers his own surprise twins. Be sure to include dessert. I would add champagne if you weren’t on the clock.” She pulled the credit card from her pocket, her eyebrow lifting at the AmEx Black. “I could go on a shopping spree too.” That was actually a good idea. “Is there anything Scarlett needs for the babies that she hasn’t gotten already?” She tapped her lips again. “I’ll call Amy. She was over at her apartment yesterday. She’d know better than me.” “All right. Order anything you think she needs. Call the grocery and have nutritious foods delivered too.” A thought occurred to me. “I mean, if you don’t mind, and if you don’t think she’ll mind.” I ran a hand through my hair. It was maddening to not know exactly what to do. “I don’t mind at all. Scarlett is the best, and I think she’ll appreciate the gesture. You know what I think she’ll appreciate more?” God, yes, please tell me what to do. “What’s that?” “Your time. Spend time with her. Get to know each other. Pay attention to the babies.” She smiled. “They say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Well, the way
to a woman’s heart is through her children.” “They’re my children too.” She dipped her head into a single nod. “Yes. You’ll soon have the proof that they’re biologically yours. Being a daddy is much more than that. Your life has been completely disrupted in the span of a few hours. Scarlett had time to adjust and make a game plan. You where thrust into the game and forced to catch the Hail Mary with time running out on the clock. You can’t just make the big catch and then go celebrate the victory. You have to plan for the next game, put in the time. Research the opponents.” She blanched. “Not that Scarlett is an opponent, but you know what I mean.” I grinned. “Yeah, I know what you mean, and it’s pretty clear you’re a football fan.” She raised her fist in the air. “Go Giants. Scarlett is a sports fan too. She doesn’t like to watch them on TV too much, but she loves going to games. Baseball. Basketball. Football. Any of them, as long as she gets to eat at least one hot dog and a bucket full of popcorn.” That was a thought. I knew Rhett Hamilton of the New York Beasts. Maybe I could give him a call and get box seats when Scarlett was up to it. It might be fun to see the motley baseball crew in action. “Thanks for the advice. In case you couldn’t tell, I need all that I can get.” She smiled. “You’re doing good so far. Remember to spend time with her and the babies. Don’t get too bossy or she’ll kick you out. I think you’ll find that she’s really easy to love. She’s got this big ole heart that is like stretchy elastic. Play your cards right, and it can fit all of you in.” She blanched again and laid a hand on my arm. “That is, if you want to be in there.” It was exactly what I wanted, I realized. More than anything. But was it really what she wanted? Did she want me? Why hadn’t she called? The question pecked at my brain. “Thank you, Olivia. I’m going to go sit with her for a while.” I nodded at the credit card. “You all enjoy your dinner.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN Scarlett
“Will you marry me?” My heart was beating so hard I thought it might pound out of my chest as Langston Kimbrough looked up at me with those honey-colored eyes, holding up an enormous ring. My hand fluttered to my throat where I was swallowing hard, trying to clear it enough to answer. “Yes. Of course, I’ll marry you, Langston. I love you. I love you very much.” He stood and slipped the ring on my finger, practically shoving the platinum band through the bone. “Are you happy now?” I blinked at him, trying to read his face. “Of course I’m happy.” His smile was tight. “Terrific. Let’s get this over with.” He grabbed my hand, dragged me from the room, and into a hallway that was so familiar. He jabbed a thumb on the elevator button and we were swept into the depths of the hospital. When the elevator door opened, Lorie was there. She held a camera up to her face — click, click, click. Olivia beamed as she placed a veil on my head, pulling the gauzy material over my face. I twirled as Amy waved a magic wand, and a beautiful dress swirled around. She was wearing a blood red gown that nearly showed her ass. “Follow me.” Music boomed through the room as I followed her down another long hallway, and I found myself humming, “Here comes the bride.” I was at a chapel. I was getting married! To Langston. The father of my babies! A man who looked absolutely gorgeous at the end of the aisle. Except for the cape. Why was he wearing a cape? And why was his hair so long? It didn’t matter because I was suddenly in front of him, a priest joining us, Bible in hand. “Do you, Scarlett Delilah Alder, take him, Langston Samson Kimbrough, to be your baby daddy, officially?” Delilah? Samson? I blinked at the priest, who gave me a withering look, then twirled his hand in a come on gesture. He glared at me in impatience as I hesitated. “Um, I do.” He turned to Langston, who was stiff by my side. “Do you, Langston Samson Kimbrough, take Scarlett Delilah Alder to be your ball and chain, and do you promise to financially support the two kids she roped you with?” Langston shrugged. “Sure. Guess I have no choice now, do I?” I turned my head to look at Amy. She was holding the babies, one on each hip. How
did they get so old? “Because I have no choice in the matter, I pronounce you man and wife. At least now we don’t have yet two more people living in sin. God bless you all and may your children grow up to understand healthy relationships, unlike their parents.” I bristled and pointed a finger at the walrus-looking man. “Hey—” Langston saved me from cursing the priest by grabbing my hand and marching me down the aisle. I looked back at Amy. The babies, toddlers now, were running around her legs. “Where are we going?” I asked, trying to pull away, trying to get back to my children. He didn’t answer, just pulled me into another room. It was beautiful. Wow. Like a luxury suite at a hotel. Wait. It was a luxury room of a hotel. “Is this the same room as before?” He shrugged again. “It began here. Might as well end here too.” End? As Langston began to unbutton his shirt, his face softened, and he smiled at me for the first time. “All I want is to spend the rest of my life with you,” he said, his shirt falling to the floor. He stepped closer to me and lifted the veil from my face. “Mrs. Kimbrough.” Being called that made me tingle all over as did the fingers unzipping my gown. I was speechless, only able to utter a moan as his lips moved to my neck. “I’d be completely lost without you,” he murmured against my skin. “Thank you for coming into my life and giving me babies. I’ll cherish them always and take very good care of them.” His hand was on my breast now, tweaking and pulling at the nipple. His mouth lowered to mine, and he kissed me in that way that made me forget everything else. I sighed when he touched my skin with just the tips of his fingers, his gentle touch driving me wild. My body was one big erogenous zone, and everywhere he touched gave me tremendous pleasure. But not just anyone could make me feel that way. It was him. Only him. His tongue made slow, sensual circles in my mouth, leaving me whimpering with need as heat flamed inside my core. His hand roamed over my bare back, down each bone in my spine before cupping my ass and pressing me to his raging erection. “You’re mine now, Scarlett. Only mine.” His lips left mine and then were on my neck, licking gently, teeth nipping as he went. I dug my fingers into his hair and pulled his head back, covering his mouth with mine again. I was naked in front of him, my dress at my feet. The way he looked at me made me
feel brazen. I ran my hands over my breasts as he stepped back to watch. His eyes swept down my body slowly, almost solemnly, as though it was the first time he’d ever seen me like this. He took his time, grazing every inch of skin with his honeyed gaze. I closed my eyes, allowing my head to roll back as I soaked up the sensation of his attention, focusing on how I felt. “Come here,” he murmured, pulled me toward him by my hips, his nails sinking into my skin. He bent down until his mouth was level with my breasts, and his tongue lapped at one of my erect nipples. I inhaled a sharp breath, throwing back my head, feeling the warmth spread down my stomach and into my very core. I whimpered, undone by him, but he didn’t increase his speed, no matter how much I wanted him to. If he didn’t hurry, he would build me up until I exploded. He sank to his knees, tonguing my navel. His hands moved up my thighs to fondle my ass, and I groaned when his fingers dug into my soft flesh. “Don’t stop…” I moaned, encouraging him. He skimmed his teeth over my skin, just at the curve above my upper thigh, and I nearly collapsed from the delicious pleasure of it all. “You’re driving me crazy,” I gasped. My knees were so weak, I could hardly stand and placed my hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles clench and relax under my fingers. He chuckled and stood, walking me backward until a chair hit the back of my knees. I collapsed into the cool leather, and Langston pulled my hips forward until my ass was nearly off the seat, then spread my legs so they laid across the arms. “This hot pussy should have a caution sign on it,” he murmured, but he didn’t give me time to question him because his tongue was there, licking up my center in one firm stroke. My fingers sank into his hair, and I pulled his head closer, grinding myself against him. He grabbed my wrists and held them down on the soft arms of the chair, binding me in place. He moved wickedly slow, licking at my labia without going deeper. Taking me to the brink of insanity as the tension spread a burning heat throughout my body. “Don’t bite my tongue off,” he said with a smirk when he finally dipped it inside me. If I hadn’t exploded instantly, I would have laughed at his joke. Was it a joke? My emotions were in turmoil, my vision blurry as he watched me from between my legs. I came again, screaming softly as I trembled from head to toe. He grinned at the speed and force of my orgasm. “You’re mine. Say it.” I met his gaze as his tongue licked into me deep. “I’m yours.” “For better or for worse.” He scraped his teeth over my clit. “Repeat after me.”
“For better or for worse.” He blew on my heated flesh. “That’s right. Remember your promise.” I sighed through the sensations. “I will.” When he slid two fingers inside my waiting depths, I arched against his hand, moving my hips in time with his fingers. When he curled them and found my g-spot, he pressed his tongue against my clit. Mouth and tongue moved as a single unit until I screamed again, thrashing around in the chair as wave after wave of pleasure attempted to crush me under its weight. He didn’t let me recover, just continued to hammer his fingers inside me, making me come over and over until I begged him to rest. “Stop,” I gasped. “I can’t take any more.” He just grinned, his eyes seeming to glow. I shivered, a spider of fear walking up my spine as he took one last, long lick up my center. “On your knees, wife. It’s my turn.” I slid off the chair, kneeling in front of him, and ran my hands up his legs. This was our wedding night, and I wanted to memorize every line and curve of him, every warm inch of skin, every muscle. I loved the way he shivered when my fingers grew close to his cock, the groan of disappointment as they skittered away. His cock pulsed when I blew on it, but I waited to take him in my mouth. I was going to take my time, just like he had. The doctor would find out how it felt to be the patient. Grabbing his hands, I pulled him down until he was on the floor, his hard cock stretching up to his abs, pulsing with his heart beat. Instead of taking him into my mouth, I wanted to tease him as he’d done me. I lapped at the head, my tongue flicking lightly over the tip before circling the ridge and trailing down the thick vein underneath. He groaned my name, and I felt powerful. I licked the flat of my tongue up and down him before taking him into my mouth. When he began to buck, I pressed his hips down and continued my slow, leisurely torture. “Fuck, Scarlett.” I flicked my tongue over the sensitive spot between the shaft and the head. “What do you need, husband?” “Harder. Suck harder.” I knew what he wanted, but I wasn’t ready to fulfill his wish. Instead, I lowered my head to lick his balls, pulling one then the other into my mouth. I sucked gently, and he twitched, groaning as if he was in great pain. “Is this what you meant?” I asked him innocently and began to lick again. “Yes. No. Fuck. Witch.” I laughed, then gave him what he wanted, sliding him into my mouth and into the back of my throat. Fighting not to gag, I bobbed slowly up and down, gently, wanting to make it last as long as possible. Whenever it seemed he was getting too excited, I slowed down or stopped entirely. He went crazy. His hands were in my hair as he thrust into my mouth, nearly choking me, then cutting off my breath. I pounded my fist on his thighs, and he
finally let go, only to pull me up his body until we were face-to-face. “In sickness and in health,” he growled against my mouth. “Say it.” I repeated the words, barely getting them out before his mouth captured mine. “Ride me, Scarlett. Fuck me.” I sat up and straddled him, lifting until his cock was at my entrance. His hands wound around my hips, and he slammed me down on him. His nails dug into my skin until I thought I might bleed. “I’ll ride you, Samson. Ride you like the witch you say I am. Ride you until the end of time.” The words were a whisper as I bounced and ground on him. He began thrusting from beneath me, hard and fast. I lowered myself over him, kissing him, licking his chest and shoulders as I pulsed and clenched around him. I groaned, leaning on him, letting him take me as he wanted. He wanted it hard. He sat up, his fingernails digging even deeper in my skin. I screamed from the pain, and he laughed, the sound seeming to echo through the room. “To love, cherish, and to obey,” he roared against my mouth. “Say it!” His eyes changed, the honey rimmed with fire now. They hypnotized me and I couldn’t look away. “To love, cherish, and …” No, Scarlett. No. You can’t give him your soul. “Obey!” His teeth ground together, the muscles popping in his jaws. “Say. It.” I opened my mouth, but the last word wouldn’t come out. The fiery ring grew in his eyes. “No!” He stilled as my answer still rang in the room, his breath hot against my face. Then he laughed, the deep evil sound making me shiver. “Obey me, Scarlett.” I licked my lips and lifted my chin. “No,” I said more softly this time, but meaning it the same. His eyes turned black, his face white as death. “You have chosen, dear wife.” To my horror, his canine teeth grew in length before me, sharpening down to lethal points before my eyes. “Till death do us part, it is.” His fangs sank into my neck. I struggled. I struck out, the heel of my hand connecting something solid as the pain exploded not only through my throat but my entire body. “Scarlett!” He had my wrists, and I was pulled against a wall. “Scarlett!” He shook me as my blood drained away, my entire body weakening as he held me too
tight. “Please don’t,” I rasped, begging him to let me live so that I could see my babies again. “Please stop.” A light flicked on, burning my eyes, and the pressure of the wall grew so hard that I couldn’t breathe. “Scarlett!” It was a woman’s voice. There were babies crying. There were running feet in the room. I snapped awake. Langston was holding me on his lap, one hand around my wrists while he held me close to his chest. His nose was bleeding as he looked at me with deep concern. Naomi, my night nurse, was on my other side. Other bodies moved around the room. The babies. Langston. It came back. It all came back. He wasn’t crushing me. He was holding me. Stroking my back. His lips in my hair. “Shhh… I’ve got you, Scarlett. You’re safe. You’ll always be safe. I’ll keep you safe forever.” Was I? I was ashamed of my tears because I didn’t know if they were of relief. Or dread.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN Langston
If I ever… ever… even had one single fleeting thought about not having enough action in my life again, I might consider drowning myself. I’d had enough action in the past week to last me a thousand or so years. The car bombs. My dad’s death. Taking over his practice. Scarlett. Learning I was a dad. To twins. Aliens. I took the cloth from the nurse and pressed it to my nose. She hadn’t hit me hard, just at the right angle to cause a trickle of blood. Damn. She slept like the dead, but she woke like the demons from hell. “Are you okay?” she asked and tried to pull away. I held her tighter and toss the rag to the floor. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—” “Shhh… it’s okay. That nightmare seemed like a whopper.” The screaming babies were making her twitchy, so I let her go and she reached for them. Her mouth was tight with pain as she adjusted her position on the bed, and lowered her gown. Sofi latched on like a champ, sucking hard, causing Scarlett to cry out. “Are you okay?” I asked, ready to step in and do whatever was needed. “My uterus.” She growled with pain as Samuel latched on then spit it out, screaming like someone in a horror movie. “It contracts when they begin to nurse.” She gritted her teeth as he finally took the nipple. “It’s a good thing but it hurts like crazy. It feels like I’m in labor again.” For a while, we sat like that while the babies nursed, and Scarlett leaned back into the pillows, closing her eyes against the bright lights. I stood and dimmed them a bit. “Do you want to burp?” She looked so hopeful that there was no way I could say no. Gingerly, I took a little towel and tossed it over my shoulder, then picked Sofi up, trying not to break her. She curled up into the tiniest little ball as I got her in the same position Scarlett was doing with Samuel. “Pat a little harder.” Scarlett smiled. “She won’t break.” My entire hand took up all of the baby’s back and butt, and I was terrified that I was patting her too hard. I increased the pressure the tiniest amount. Nothing. A little more. Then more. Soon, it felt like I was walloping the kid. But she burped! I couldn’t believe it. I actually made my baby do that. Scarlett beamed at me, then had her hands full with Samuel’s spit up.
My eyes burned as I cradled my daughter in my hands. It was the first time I’d really held her without being burrito tight in a blanket. She peered up at me, her dark blue eyes crossing then refocusing on my face. Her small fists swatted at the air as she farted on my palm. “That’s my girl. Get it all out.” Scarlett laughed and settled Samuel on the opposite breast. I took that as my cue and handed Sofi over. But it was hard. I didn’t want to let her go. “I’m twenty-four. I’ll be twenty-five next month.” My jaw sagged, not just from surprise at her seemingly random revelation. I was a dirty old man. “No shit. What day?” “June seventh.” No fucking way. “Well, that will be easy to remember because mine is the eighth.” It was her turn to be slack jawed. “Are you serious? How old will you be?” I scrubbed my face with my hands. “I’m a cradle robber. A dirty old man.” She laughed. “You can’t be that old. What, forty-eight? Forty-nine?” “What!” The minute I saw her face, I knew she was kidding. “Thirty-seven, thank you very much.” “That’s not so bad,” she said, her eyes shining. “You were just in junior high when I was born.” I ignored her. “What was the dream about?” The smile slid down her face, and her eyes fell to the babies. “Um, nothing. It was stupid.” “It didn’t sound or look stupid. It looked pretty terrifying.” “I don’t normally dream. Or remember them, anyway.” I smiled and moved until I sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve never met anyone who sleeps as deeply as you. At least you did that night, um morning.” “You really tried to wake me?” I reached up and pushed a damp tendril of hair behind her ear. “I did. I should have tried harder.” Her blue eyes glistened as tears brimmed. She blinked rapidly, letting out a little laugh. “I’m sorry. These hormones are kicking my butt.” When one fell, I lifted a hand to brush it away. “I missed you, Scarlett. I didn’t know your name at the time, but I thought about you every day. You were like that witch, or maybe a ghost sounds better, haunting me.” She laughed. “Well, you’re a vampire, so I guess being a ghost isn’t so bad.” I’m a vampire?
“What?” Her cheeks turned that pretty shade of pink. “The dream. I dreamed you turned into a vampire and sank your fangs into my neck.” I chomped my teeth together, and she giggled. It was a pretty sound. It also caused my cock to twitch, and I mentally slapped that shit down. Her attention was on the babies again. “I think they’re done. I’ll be glad when my milk comes in, and I won’t feel like I’m starving them to death.” She handed me Samuel, who felt more solid in my hands as I carefully lifted him over a shoulder. “It’s funny. For years now, I’ve instructed moms on how to do this, not realizing until today just how tough it is.” I was braver with Samuel and gave him some good pats, then dealt with the spit up that followed. Not a pleasant smell. “Can you hand me a diaper and wipes?” Scarlett asked, and I got my first lesson on how to change a baby while dodging the stream of urine in the process. “Want to try it with Sofi?” I took a deep breath. I could do this. “Sure.” And I did, and it seemed like each tiny success built my confidence in a small way. Soon, the babies were dry and swaddled again, just as someone knocked on the door. “Come in.” Olivia poked her head in, giving me an I’m sorry grimace. “I’m sorry, but you’re needed in room eight.” I groaned. “Any knifes? Crazy people? Drug addictions?” I almost added any secret baby mommas but managed to pull it off the tip of my tongue just in time. I didn’t think either woman would think it was funny. “Nope. Looking to be a standard delivery. Fourth baby, so things are going fast.” I pushed myself to my feet, then leaned down to press my lips against Scarlett’s forehead. “I’ll be back. I promise.” She smiled up at me and reached out to squeeze my hand. “I’ll be right here.” The delivery was textbook, the mother pushing like a champ. I was only in the room for about fifteen minutes and could have honestly hugged the mother’s neck for being so drama free and efficient. Back in Scarlett’s room, it was empty. I double-checked that I’d gotten the right one. “Babies are in the nursery,” Olivia called from down the hall. “Scarlett’s taking a shower.” I nodded my thanks and closed the door behind me, then stepped over to the bathroom and listened. The shower was on, but there was another noise. Crying? I listened harder. No. What I was hearing was great, heaving sobs. They broke my heart.
Opening the door, I stepped inside and the crying abruptly stopped. “Scarlett?” There was a small gasp from the other side of the shower curtain, then a very small, “Go away.” “No. I’m not doing that again.” She began to cry, even harder this time, and I felt so helpless. Toeing off my shoes, I took my wallet and keys from my pockets and placed them on the little shelf along with my watch. I pulled the curtain back and stepped inside, scrubs and all. She shrieked, grabbing for the curtain, trying to pull it in front of her body. “Don’t look,” she cried. “I don’t want you to see me like this.” “You’re beautiful,” I said simply and took the curtain from her hands. “Even more so than when I knew you before.” Tears streamed down her face. “Don’t. Don’t lie.” I took a deep breath. Her body was different now. She was right. I couldn’t lie and tell her it wasn’t. I couldn’t placate her with words she wasn’t ready to hear. What I could do was show her that the differences didn’t matter, that they were beautiful in their own way. What I could also do was tell her the truth. My truth, at least. “Do you remember telling me that I seemed lonely?” She shivered, and I reached up to turn the blast of water from the nozzle more fully on her. A little more comfortable with me being in here with her now, she nodded, one hand covering her breasts, one trying to hide the stretch marks on her bloated stomach. “You were right. I was a man who had everything. Loving parents who doted on me, a best friend who forced me to have fun. Best homes. Best cars. Best schools. Best everything.” The hand fell away from her breasts, but the one on her stomach remained. “There was still something missing. I was lonely, and out of all the people who were around me, no one ever noticed. But you knew. You saw through the bullshit. You saw me.” Very tentatively, I reached out and pushed her wet curls off her face. A tear crossed the barrier of her eyelashes, and I brushed it away. “Now, I find out you gave me the greatest gift imaginable. A gift that, if you let me, will ensure I’ll never be lonely again.” Another tear fell, but a small laugh came with it. “This body did that for me, Scarlett. This strong, courageous beast of a body kept my children nourished and protected all this time.” When she continued to not flinch away when I reached for her, I took that as a good sign. I picked up her bottle of shampoo and poured a puddle of it in my palm. “Let me thank you, Scarlett. It’s a small gesture, I know that. But maybe if I do enough
small things, they might one day come close to thanking you for what you’ve done for me. Can I? Can I please show you how much you mean to me?” She licked her lips, a gesture I now knew she did when she was nervous. “Do you want to wait until you know they’re yours?” “They’re mine.” I said it with no hesitation. No doubt. And I believed it. More than that, it had to be true. Gingerly, she stepped out from the running water, and I lifted the shampoo to her hair. She groaned with pleasure as I massaged her scalp before working the lather to the ends. The foam washed down her body, pooling at our feet. I picked up the conditioner and worked it into her hair too before picking up the bar of soap and a wash cloth. Inch by inch, I washed her, starting at her neck and throat, working down to her fingertips. I was gentle with her breasts and didn’t let her pull away when I reached the sagging flesh on her stomach. Her back was next, her buttocks. I sank to my knees to wash her legs and feet. When I prepared to wash between her legs last, it was where she stopped me. “I’m bleeding.” I grinned. “I’m very aware of that.” “I have stitches.” “Very aware of that too.” Her lips fluttered with her exhale. “It really doesn’t bother you?” I gave her a blank stare. “I happen to be very infatuated with this part of you, Scarlett.” Very gently, I washed her there, watching her face very carefully for any signs of distress or pain. “I hope one day that I can reintroduce myself to every part of you.” She closed her eyes, shuddered, and I didn’t say more. I wanted to. I wanted to tell her just how much I thought of her when I was gone. Missed her. Mourned the loss of her. Here, in this vulnerable position wasn’t the time. “I can’t believe you still find me attractive,” she admitted, meeting my gaze. “I find you more than attractive, Scarlett. You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever known.” She snorted. “Okay, Dr. McLiar.” As a sort of proof, I pointedly looked down at the front of my pants. She followed my gaze and saw the tent there. “Oh.” I grinned. “The cock doesn’t lie.” She laughed, and the Scarlett I first met was back. The teeth. The shining light in her eyes. “You know you aren’t touching me with that thing, don’t you?” So fucking adorable. I laughed. “Yes, I’m aware, and I can wait until you want me.” I kissed her forehead, then spit as I got a bit of conditioner in my mouth. She laughed again, and suddenly, all was right in the world. “Let’s get you rinsed off and dressed.”
I ran my fingers down her long strands, softened by the conditioner. When she was rinsed, I turned the water off and reached for a couple towels. “You’re soaked,” she said, pulling the scrub top away from my stomach. “Totally worth it.” There was a quick knock, then the door opened, and Olivia’s face appeared in the doorway. Scarlett yelped, and I might or might not have jumped too. “You ooo… boy.” Recovering from the surprise of seeing a soaking wet man in the room, the nurse’s eyes narrowed on me in an instant. “Everything okay in here?” Scarlett wrapped the towel around her more firmly. “Yes, I’m fine. He was just helping.” An eyebrow lifted. “Uh huh. Right.” She cast a glance around the room, her professional expression snapping back into place. “You need a fresh gown, and you…” the eyes narrowed again, “need dry scrubs.” “Both would be appreciated,” I said as I wrapped a towel around Scarlett’s hair. She was back a minute later and helped Scarlett into the gown and all the postpartum pads and things she needed, while I stepped into the larger room to change. “Can you… oh dear god.” I had just dropped the wet scrub top into the laundry bin and was about to pull on the new one. Olivia cleared her throat, her head sticking out between the door and doorframe, as she stared at my chest and my tattoo. “Yes?” “I… I…” She yanked her head back in and slammed the bathroom door closed. Behind it, I could hear the women laugh. I thought I heard a “No wonder you got knocked up” followed by a small giggle. Her giggle. I’d know it anywhere. It was a small victory to make the normally unflappable nurse flap. But I finished changing quickly, not wanting to shock her that I was going commando. With the choice being loose and swinging or wet and chaffing, I’d let it mimic a pendulum all day long. Scarlett appeared through the door the next time. “Are you dressed?” “It’s clear.” Olivia was back to unflappable again and she stuffed the wet things in the blue bag. “Hope it’s okay, but I ordered dinner for both of you too,” she said, handing me my credit card. “You look like a steak and potatoes kind of guy, but if I was wrong, sorry.” She pointed out the boxes of food and Scarlett’s stomach rumbled. We looked at each other and laughed. I shook my head. “If there are pancakes in those boxes, I’m giving up and becoming religious.” Scarlett was still grinning when she walked stiffly back to the bed. Olivia hurried around and changed the sheets, put down a new protective pad, and fluffed the pillows. Nurses worked damn hard. Being here was giving me a new appreciation for all they did. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup.” Scarlett picked up the bowl, took off the lid, and
sipped straight from the container. “I don’t think I’ve been so hungry in my entire life.” I was called away for another delivery before I could take a bite. It was another smooth one, and I was back a half hour later to find Scarlett taking another nap. Eating in the silence of the room, Scarlett’s soft breathing the only sound, I didn’t feel lonely anymore.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN Scarlett
My first night of being a mother was exhausting, but I wasn’t doing it alone. Other than the times he was called away, Langston was right beside me, burping and changing diapers. The first poopy one had been hilarious. “This isn’t shit, this is tar,” he complained as he yanked out another wipe, adding it to what was becoming a massive pile of ones he’d already dirtied. I’d gotten my phone out and snapped a picture, catching him in mid gag. The big, bad surgeon had fallen, and I had photographic evidence to prove it. At six in the morning, he told me he had to go. “I have back-to-back surgeries scheduled at Mercy, but if all goes well, I’ll be back by midafternoon.” For some reason, the thought of him leaving, even for such a short trip uptown gave me tremendous anxiety. I tried not to show it. I refused to be one of those weepy females. It was bad enough that he’d caught me crying in the shower. No one was supposed to have witnessed that. I had shoved most of the roiling emotions deep down inside me, not wanting to release them until I was alone. But no… he’d appeared. Then he didn’t run away even though I pushed. He jumped right into the middle of the physically and emotionally naked display, and… made it better. Made me better. As a result, there was a light in his eyes, a purpose that I hadn’t seen before. Maybe I was making him better too. “Type my phone number into your contacts,” he told me before leaving for his other surgeries. I dutifully did as he asked as he listed the digits. “Now, call me so I’ll have your number.” His phone vibrated, and he smiled, looking more than a little relieved. His thumbs flew over the screen. “What’s your address?” I gave it to him. “Your email?” I gave it to him. “Do you have a house phone or just a cell?” I raised my eyebrow. “Don’t you have enough? You surely can reach me on one of those.” He gave me a hard look I didn’t quite understand. For a second, I thought he was going to say something, but he gave his head a little shake and kept tapping things into his phone. Stepping over to the babies, he bent and gently kissed each of their foreheads before stepping over to me to do the same. “I’ll be back, okay? They said they were discharging you late this afternoon. I’ll be here before then.” He was taking this very seriously. I returned the solemn tone with an equal one. “Okay.”
He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Gray.” I blinked. Had I missed an entire conversation? “Huh?” He smiled, clueing me in. “My favorite color is gray.” I understood. He was playing the let’s get to know each other better game. He really needed to give me better notice. “Is gray a color?” The smile grew wider. “It is. It’s a combination of red…” he touched my hair, “blue,” he swept a thumb under my eyes, “and green. I’m not sure where the green comes from.” “Maybe it’s because green is my favorite color.” The pull between us grew stronger as additional gravity seemed to settle all around me. “That must be it. I love it because it’s what you love.” It was hard to breathe. “You sure know how to sweep a woman off her feet.” “Not a woman. The woman. All I care about is you.” Needing to touch him, I reached out and laid my palm on his thigh. His hand moved to immediately cover mine. “You know, if you’re trying to seduce me, you might want to save your breath for a few weeks.” I jutted out my bottom lip in my best pout. “As you know, I’m down for the count for a while.” He didn’t miss a beat. “Your mouth appears to be perfectly fine.” My eyes widened, and he laughed. “I’m just kidding. You have to admit, though, you opened the door for that one.” Yeah, I kind of did. And two could play at this game. “You know, you have very big hands. You could take care of any of those little issues on your own.” He leaned toward me. “Do you want to watch?” My stomach tightened, not from a contraction. Okay, I couldn’t play this game. This man was way out of my league. “Um…” He turned his hand until our fingers linked. “I remember when your hands were on me. Do you remember that?” Where was the oxygen? “Yes, I remember. I haven’t been able to forget any detail of that night.” Our eyes met. “Me either. It was special.” “Do you still think so, considering the surprise that came from it?” “I have only one regret. I regret that I wasn’t here for you these past months.” My damn nose began to burn with the emotion that was never far from the surface. “I’m sorry.” His eyes didn’t lose the intensity. “For what?” “For not waking up.”
Did his shoulders fall a bit? “It’s not your fault. I should have tried harder. I should have made you wake up, and I should have asked for your phone number. I should have watched you input my number into your cell.” His face grew tighter. “I should have cancelled the flight. I should have cancelled the assignment. I should never have left you that morning. I should—” “But you did.” I placed my fingers over his lips. “And you’re back by some miracle. Do we need to continue walking over that same ground?” His shoulders sagged even farther, and I couldn’t understand why this was so important to him. “Langston, I believe in this principle: right time, all the time. We were apart for a reason. Maybe I had some lessons to learn during these months. Maybe you had important lessons too. I don’t know. What I do know is that you’re here now. What I do know is that I’m glad. What I do know is that we have two children who need us. What I do know is that…” I faltered, forcing the words back down my throat. “What, Scarlett? What do you know?” Screw it. Just say it. “I need you.” Why did the words burn in my throat? “I didn’t think I did. I was — am — prepared to take care of Samuel and Sofi on my own. I’ve psyched myself up, believing I could do it alone, then you show up, and maybe it was the universe or God or whatever’s way of telling me I couldn’t do it alone after all.” The damn tears were hot on the backs of my eyes. “That I wasn’t good enough to do it alone.” I didn’t even know that was how I felt until I said it. He understood, and his face softened with that knowledge. “So, my appearing made you question yourself?” “Yes. No. Yes.” I wasn’t making any sense. “Yes. It’s part of it. It’s an unconscious question that whispers in the back of my mind. That voice says that I’m not good enough, strong enough, capable enough to do this by myself.” I thought about my tiny apartment. The two cribs shoved in the corner. The curtains so valiantly trying to make that corner a separate, private room. As Amy said, it would work. For a year, maybe two. Then what? I’d stopped classes for my masters, which meant being a midwife was out of my current reach. As a nurse, I made a really terrific salary… if I lived anywhere but New York. As it was, my seven-hundred-fifty-square-foot apartment took up forty percent of my monthly salary. I’d already looked at two-bedroom apartments close to the hospital. If I wanted to eat, I couldn’t afford those. Bay Ridge was more affordable, but it was an hour-long train ride each way to work. So, yes. I was desperately afraid of failing. The babies. Myself. “Scarlett…” he said my name gently, “I’m familiar with that voice. We all have it. It’s like the worse nag in the world. And it’s mean, but it holds a higher purpose. It’s trying to protect us.”
I snorted. “Well, I wish that voice would stop it. It’s cruel. I say things to myself that I would never, ever say to another human being.” He lifted his fingers to my lips. “Then I’ll need to say all the positive things I see in you loud enough to drown out that other voice.” My heart squeezed at how sincere he looked. “That would be nice.” He seemed surprised that I hadn’t pushed the idea away. “Do you know what I want?” I searched his face. “What?” “A dog, but my dad is, was, allergic. When I got older, I didn’t have time for a dog. Plus I traveled so much that it wasn’t fair to own one.” I thought I understood. “Now that you’re in New York to take over your father’s practice, are you thinking about getting one?” He nodded. “I know the babies are too young now, but I’d like them to have that kind of companion.” He swallowed, seeming to be uncertain again. “If that’s okay with you.” “I love dogs. Where I grew up on a farm, there were animals everywhere. I miss them, but I don’t have space in my apartment.” He turned my hand, tracing the lines with his finger. “I have room. I just had a wonderful carriage house remodeled. It’s three stories. The bottom floor is the living and kitchen space. The second floor is a master suite, and a couple other rooms, one being my office.” He met my eyes again. “The third floor has two bedrooms, two bathrooms, and an enormous space that I hadn’t really known what to do with. It could be a playroom.” Was he asking me to move in with him? “Langston…” I didn’t know what to say. “Scarlett, I know it’s too soon. I know we barely know each other. I know there is nothing traditional about any of this, so why stop now? I don’t want you to have to do this on your own. I don’t want to be away from you and the babies. I want to be there.” “This isn’t about what you want or don’t want,” I snapped and immediately felt guilty for my waspish tone when a hurt expression flashed across his face before he managed to erase it. I was doing it again, pushing people way. Pushing him away. He took a deep breath, but didn’t let go of my hand. I didn’t pull it away either. “You’re right, this isn’t about me. This space is available. I’m available.” He cursed under his breath. “No, I’m not just available. I’m here. Present and accountable. I want to be here.” I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to prove that I could do this alone, but in the same breath, I didn’t want to do this alone. “Can I think about it?” I asked tentatively. He nodded. “Of course.” He began tracing the lines of my hand again. “Is it okay if I let my mother know she’s a grandmother? My grandparents would want to know they
have a pair of greats to spoil too.” My nose and throat clogged with emotion. A family. The babies could have a family. “Don’t you want to wait for the results of the paternity test?” “No.” There was no hesitation as he met my gaze. It warmed me, this trust in me. “In that case, tell them whenever and however you want.” “Thank you.” To my surprise, he reached out and placed a hand on my squishy, bloated stomach. “I didn’t get to see your belly grow round. I didn’t get to see the ultrasounds or hear the first heartbeat. By some crazy miracle, I witnessed the babies being born. Please give me a chance to witness everything else.” This was the man of my dreams. Why was I even hesitating? “Yes. Of course, I’ll give you the chance.” I couldn’t stop the tears. “I’m just scared.” A smile played on his mouth, but his eyes were wet too. “Of vampires?” I laughed, a sharp burst of sound, but the amusement didn’t last long. “Yes. The kind that suck the hope from your spirit, the love from your heart.” “I don’t want to do any of that, and if it’s any help, I’m scared too.” He was such a big man. Strong and solid. Successful and handsome. “Of what?” “I don’t let people get close to me. In such a short time, you weren’t just close, it was like you were this serpent who had crawled under my skin. I could feel you there, even when I couldn’t see you.” I attempted to break the crackling tension between us. “So, you’re a vampire and I’m a snake. I frankly don’t think our relationship stands a chance.” One corner of his mouth lifted a little but that was all. “I’m Sampson and you’re Delilah, and you slayed me within moments of us meeting, held me captive to your charms.” “I don’t want you slain. I don’t want to hold you captive.” How could I make her understand something I didn’t yet understand myself? “You did. You do. But it’s not how I thought it would be. I thought I’d fight the chains binding me to one person, one place. But they aren’t chains, Scarlett. They’re… roots.” Roots. From our mutual trees of life. “If your house was on fire and you could rescue one thing, humans or animals excluded, what would it be?” He frowned a little at my sudden change of subject, then tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. He considered the question. And considered. And considered. “Can I get back to you on that? I honestly don’t know that I possess anything I couldn’t walk away from.” That was so very sad. “What about you?” I already knew my answer. “Pictures of my parents and brother. I’m terrified that
they’ll get destroyed one day, and they’ll be gone.” His face was a mask of sympathy. “Will you tell me about them one day?” I swallowed and met the eyes of the father of my children. “Yes.” He caressed my cheek and leaned toward me, then seemed to catch himself. His gaze searched my face, examined every feature. “I want to know everything.” I licked my lips. “Then know this. I want you to kiss me.” His nostrils flared, passion bursting over his expression before he tucked it away. It felt like forever until his lips touched mine, warm and soft, familiar and so very missed. His hand sank into my hair, turning my head just enough that the angle changed and the kiss deepened. It was the most chaste kiss we had shared, but it still curled my toes. He broke away, pressing his forehead to mine. “I’ve never loved kissing a woman so much.” “I’ve never loved kissing a man so much.” His phone pinged, but he ignored it and kissed me again. “You do something to me, Scarlett. From that first moment, I felt it.” “I felt it too. Feel it still.” His lips pressed against my cheek. “I think we have something worth working toward.” His phone pinged and I sighed, our foreheads pressing together again. “You better go.” “Yes.” He didn’t move though, just kept his forehead against mine. “It’s okay,” I promised. “I’ll be here when you get back.” His look was intense. “And I will be back. I promise.” I smiled. “You don’t have to keep saying that, you know?” He broke the connection, dropped the hand from my hair. “Yes, I do. I’ll be back.” I already missed him before he was out of the door.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN Langston
The first gallbladder surgery went smoothly, the operating room staff competent and flexible as they grew to learn my preferences and surgical style. I actually found myself chuckling along with them as they talked about things. They were friends, or at least friendly with each other. I liked it there. After the second surgery was done, I took a break, knowing I had about an hour before the next patient was due to arrive. I headed to the doctors’ lounge, hoping to find something decent to drink. I ended up getting a prewrapped sandwich too. I was starving. Then I sank into a chair and took a first bite, grateful the room was empty. The silence gave me time to think without someone telling me how sorry they were about my father. I stared at my phone, trying to summon the energy to pick it up and call my mother. When two doctors entered the lounge, I pushed to my feet and headed to the elevator. I’d make the call outside on this relatively cool spring day. There was a bench that seemed to be waiting just for me, but I bypassed it and kept walking, needing to force the nervous energy from my cells. Tapping Mom’s number, I frowned as her tired voice answered. “Langston, honey. It’s so good to hear from you.” It had only been a couple days, but mothers were like that, always missing their children, no matter the age. I thought about the twins, about how badly I wished they were near me now. I guessed that instinct wasn’t only for the female version of parents. “How are you feeling?” “Better, sweetheart. Tired, but I think the shock of having lost him is fading away and I just feel numb.” She sniffed, her voice breaking at the end. “But Gran and Pops are wonderful and giving me good company. Just the distraction I need.” Well, there was an opening if I’d ever seen one. “Mom, speaking of distractions, I have some news, but I’m not sure how you’ll feel about it.” Worry sharpened her tone. “What is it? What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Sick? Are you —” “No. None of that. I’m perfectly healthy, I promise.” I almost felt her sag with relief. “Then what is it?” How did I break this news? “Remember the night I left for Nigeria?”
“Well, of course I do. It was one of the most stressful days of my life.” Yeah, she just had to stab me with a prick of mother’s guilt. I didn’t let it distract me from my purpose though and plunged ahead. “After I left the party, I ended up getting a drink.” I thought it was best to leave out the part about Josh and I attending opening night of an erotica club first. “I met a woman there. She spent the night with me. She was, um, special. Very special. But since I was leaving, I didn’t get her number. I left her mine instead.” Mom snorted, and I could almost hear her thinking typical man in her head. “And…?” “I never heard from her, so I wrote it off as me being the more interested one, but yesterday, I was called to fill in at St. Mary’s Hospital. There was a widespread food poisoning among the medical staff and they needed immediate backup.” “And you found the girl?” Mom guessed, her voice pitched high with interest. “Yes.” “Is she a doctor there?” “No, she’s a nurse.” “And you found her, just like that?” Mom sighed, and I could tell she was already planning a wedding in her head. My mom was a romantic of the worst kind. “Yes, I found her, but not just like that.” There were a few beats of silence as she attempted to puzzle that out. “What do you mean?” “I was sent to the labor and delivery floor. There was a laboring mother who might need a caesarian, so they needed me there in case anything went wrong.” “Oh my.” In addition to being a romantic, my mother was smart, and I could hear her mind shuffling the pieces of the puzzle together. “Yes. The patient was Scarlett. She was having a baby. My baby.” “Oh. My. Wow. I think I need to sit down.” “Are you sitting?” I should have asked that before I even started this conversation. “Yes.” Her voice was weak but also something else… excited? “Mom. I didn’t just deliver my own child. I delivered two children. A boy and a girl. I’m a father of twins. You’re the grandmother of twins. Surprise.” The silence stretched long enough that I glanced at the phone to make sure the call hadn’t disconnected. I couldn’t even hear her breathing. “Mom?” “Yes. Yes, I’m here. I’m just… well, I just… I…” I smiled and scratched at the scruff on my chin. “Yeah. I remember feeling the same
way.” “Langston…” her voice was breathless, “I know this will sound insensitive, but I have to ask. You don’t know this woman that you met in a bar. Are you sure they’re yours?” “Yes. They’re mine.” They had to be. “We’ll have the results of the paternity test soon, sometime today, but I know they belong to me.” She exhaled a long breath. “And yet you told me before the results arrived?” It sounded like she said it more to herself than me. “That must mean something.” “They’re mine, Mom. Just like I can’t explain how I ended up in her delivery room at the exact right time, I can’t explain how I know, but I know.” She sniffed, and I could hear the emotion taking her over. “I’m so… I can’t believe it. Are they healthy? Is Scarlett, did you say her name was, healthy? Are you okay?” With the questions, she was regaining some of her composure. “Yes. Both babies are perfect. Scarlett is perfect.” Mom sighed, the eternal romantic side of her coming to the surface. “What’s their names?” “Sofi Elizabeth and Samuel Joseph.” Mom gasped and began to cry for real. “Oh, Langston. It’s perfect. I’m on my way. I want to see them.” I knew better than to argue. “I’ll text you the address. There’s a code you’ll have to give the staff to get through the door. I’ll text that too.” In the background, her shoes were clicking on the wood floors. “I’m bringing Gran and Pops too.” I laughed. “Okay. I have another surgery in a few minutes. I’ll be there by four at the latest.” “Four? That’s good. That gives me time to go shopping. Oh, Langston. I’m a grandmother. I had always hoped you’d settle down, but I didn’t think you would. I have so much to do!” I chuckled into the phone, relieved that she was taking this so well. “Don’t go overboard, okay?” “Overboard? Me?” She laughed, and I groaned. “We’ll need to call the decorator. Oh! The third floor of the carriage house will be perfect!” “Mom—” “We’ll have bookshelves installed for all the books I’ll be reading to them. Is there room for a nanny? Does Scarlett want a nanny? If she does, we’ll use that extra space in the back to build a third room and private bath.” “Mom—” “I’ll call the contractor and have them increase the security system. Cameras inside and out. We’ll replace the fence with a taller one, maybe razor wire at the top.”
“Mom—” “Oh, the backyard is small, but we can make it work. I can just picture a little swing. We can build a playhouse. Sofi and I can have tea parties there. Samuel and I can—” “Mom—!” “What?” I softened my voice. “Scarlett and I still have a great deal to work out before—” “Pish posh.” I had never, ever in my entire life heard her say that. “Of course you’ll work it out, don’t be silly.” “Mom, it’s complicated.” “Then uncomplicate it. Can’t you see this was just meant to work out? Don’t fight it or try to answer all the questions. Enjoy, my baby boy. Don’t overanalyze it. Just hold it with both hands and never let it go.” I sighed, surrendering to her happiness. “I will, but right now, I have to go scrub up. I’ll see you later this afternoon.” “Yes! I’ll be the one with a big smile on her face.” That made me smile too. “I love you, Mom.” “Darling, I love you too. If only your father was here to see this.” Her voice grew quiet again and there was a soft laugh. “Of course, he’s probably smiling down from the heavens.” “Yes. I miss him too.” “See you later, baby boy.” “Bye, Granny.” She gasped. “I will not be called that.” I laughed. “See you soon.” I was still chuckling to myself as I walked back into the hospital, texting Scarlett to let her know I had only the one surgery left. She replied quickly: Take your time. All is well here. Another text followed with a picture of the babies in her lap. I replied: I wish I was with you. I stashed the phone in my locker and scrubbed my hands and arms under warm water, but I was also going through my mental checklist. Mom had good ideas about the nursery, fence, and security cameras. I’d ask Scarlett about a nanny. Nothing full time, but someone who could help out as needed. Should I hire protection too? As a wealthy man, my children would be easy targets for anyone hoping to make a quick buck. That thought led to a trail of anxiety crawling down my spine. I’d never worried about my own protection, but when I was small, a hired bodyguard followed me and Mom
everywhere. It wasn’t until I was a teen that I’d rejected the security, but of course by then, I was in a private, gated school with other rich kids. I was probably safer there than I’d ever known. As I began the colon surgery, I forced all those thoughts and worries from my mind. For now. When I was finished with the surgery, I would call the decorator and have her start making plans for the third floor. I’d call my attorney and have him immediately change my will. I’d talk to the contractor about a new fence. A security consultant about protection, increasing my security system, and maybe adding a safe room to the house. Whatever it took, I’d keep my children safe. Comfortable. Whatever it took, I’d make Scarlett fall in love with me. Want to live with me. Marry me. I’d give her time to adjust, but in the end, she would be mine. And I would be hers.
*** After the surgery was completed and the patient sent to the recovery room, the next person I called turned out to be Josh. I needed to walk off some of the stress of the past twenty-four hours and had decided to start walking back to Scarlett’s hospital, knowing I could catch a taxi whenever I was ready. “Hey, man. How are you?” It was good to hear his voice. I hadn’t seen him since Dad’s funeral. “That’s actually why I’m calling.” He cursed, going automatically to concerned. “Shit. That doesn’t sound good.” Josh was going to laugh his ass off at this. “Well, it actually is good. A surprise, but a good one.” “Man, you hate surprises.” He was right. I did hate surprises. I just needed to say it. “I’m a father.” For several long beats, there was total silence on the other side of the line, then Josh began to laugh hysterically. I waited, letting him get it out of his system. It took a while, then, “You’re serious?” “Very much so.” The laughter went on a while longer as I navigated the busy street. “How?” I rolled my eyes. “Immaculate conception, Josh. How do you think?”
The laughter faded abruptly. “You’re really serious, aren’t you?” “Yep.” I smiled, trying to imagine the stunned look on his face. “Seriously, man. How? Who? How’d you find out?” I gave him an abbreviated version of the chain of events. He interrupted with a few questions, but he mainly only muttered things like, “you’re fucking kidding me” or “no shit.” “You seriously delivered your own twins? How were you not passed out on the floor?” “I have no idea. Thing was, after the initial shock, I was… happy.” Josh blew out a breath. “Well, that’s telling.” “Agreed.” He blew out another breath. “When exactly will you be getting these test results back?” I checked my watch. “As early as now and as late as tomorrow.” Josh’s voice softened. “What if they aren’t yours?” “They are.” “Except if they’re not. What do you know about this girl, Lang? You met her in a bar. You fucked her within an hour of knowing her.” I bristled at the truth in his words. “She’s different.” “How do you know that?” he pressed, pissing me off. I understood why he was doing it. He was my best friend. It was his job to defend me, protect me. But he hadn’t been there. He hadn’t known. “I just know.” “Does one of the kids look like you? Is that how you know?” Their tiny, wrinkled, squishy faces flashed in front of my eyes. “They’re a day old. They look like Yoda. How the fuck am I supposed to tell?” Josh barked out a laugh. “Beware the dark side. It’s the number one rule, man.” I so wished I hadn’t called him. “Josh, she was special. What we had together was special.” “Then why didn’t she call you?” He might as well have kicked me in the nuts. “I don’t know.” I squeezed the back of my neck with my hand, trying to release some of the tension that was shooting darts of pain into my skull. “She mentioned something about me hating to be tied down. That night, I told her it was one of my worst fears.” “You talked?” Josh sounded incredulous. “The night you fucked her back in the fall,
you two talked about fears and shit? Wow.” “Talked. Laughed. Like I told you, she was special.” His voice dipped low again. “Do you think she set you up?” I squeezed harder at my neck. “She didn’t even know who I was.” “Maybe she did.” “How? I picked a random bar after I left you. Her friends were already at a table when I arrived. She arrived a few minutes later. Any other theories?” “Needle in the condom? That has been tried before.” “No. She didn’t have access.” “Hmmm… you did use a rubber, right? She didn’t bewitch you that much? Swear she was on the pill or some shit, right?” I wanted to punch my phone. “The rubber failed.” “Mommy, what’s a rubber?” A woman with a young boy was standing next to me at a crosswalk, and she glared at me as she covered her son’s ears. I gave her an I’m sorry look, but she didn’t appear to be the forgiving type. I turned my back on her and walked several paces away. “It didn’t work, okay. And how it happened isn’t as important as what I’m going to do about it now.” Josh grunted, and I took it as agreement. “What are you going to do?” Marry her. Raise our family together. Have more babies someday. “I’m going to help her with the babies. I’m going to get to know her better, give her time to know me. Then we’ll see where it goes.” If Josh was the gasping kind, I would have sworn he gasped. “You’re in fucking love with this girl.” If I was the gasping kind, I would have gasped. Instead, I let out some kind of strangled sound. “What? No way. I barely know her.” “Liar.” I blew out a breath. “I admit, she’s someone I could love, but it’s too early for all that.” “You did put the baby carriage before the horse, but you’re really serious about this, aren’t you? Just changing everything in your life like this?” “Well, yeah. Scarlett had to change her life too. She could have aborted the babies, given them up for adoption. She didn’t. She damned quit school so she could a have them.” “School?” His voice dipped low. “How old is she?” “College. Graduate school. She’s twenty-four.” Josh whistled. “You almost have three babies to take care of.”
I growled into the phone. “Not funny.” “It is a little funny.” “She’s a woman. A smart, sexy, beautiful, strong woman who pushed out two babies like a badass right in front of my damn eyes.” “That must have been something.” I stopped at another crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn. “It was. Man, I’d delivered babies before, but there was so much going on in my head. I mean, it was her. The girl I couldn’t stop thinking about. Before she even told anyone I was the father, I knew. And then the kid’s head was practically out when I sat down.” Josh made a sound that I took as a shiver. “I would have puked.” “No. No, you wouldn’t have. It was something. I got one baby born, thought I’d done my job, then learned there was another.” Josh laughed. “I really wish I could have been there just to see your face.” “I’m sure it was priceless. Her friend probably caught it on camera.” “Is her friend cute?” It was my turn to laugh. “Her friend is gorgeous and probably one of the scariest people I’ve ever met.” “Hm. When can I meet her?” I rolled my eyes. “Zip it up. I’ve got babies to worry about.” Josh laughed again. “Do you have any idea how much child support you’re going to have to pay for two kids? What’s that dude’s name who’s paying a million a month per kid?” I didn’t even bother to answer. “Look, I’ve got to go. I need to get back to Scarlett and the babies.” “And… it begins. The best friend gets shoved out the door.” “You’re stupid. You’re welcome to change diapers anytime.” “Wow. Thanks. Sounds like so much fun I might just skip the erotica club.” I laughed. “I’ll just have to live life vicariously through you. Don’t let me down.” There were a few beats of silence. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you? Settling down and being a family man.” “Yeah. Yeah, I am.” “Well, congratulations then. I’m happy for you. When can I see the kids?” “I’ll text you the hospital details, or if you’d rather wait until we’re home and settled, that’s good too.” “Where’s home?” Now that was a good question. “I’m not sure. I’m hoping the carriage house. We really
haven’t had time to talk it all through.” “What are you going to do about your dad’s practice?” Another good question. “He’d slowed down a lot. More than I thought he did. It’s practically a part-time schedule right now.” “That’s good.” “Yeah. I had been thinking of ways to build it up, to stay busy. But—” “Sounds like you’ll be busy enough.” Careful what you wish for. “It does appear to be the case.” “Well, all the best to you, Lang. Seriously. If this is what you want, then I hope the paternity test comes back with the proof you need to never question it, and I hope Scarlett is who you think she is.” “Thanks, Josh.” “Anytime. And don’t forget to hook me up with her friend.” I grinned. “I’m serious. She will bite your balls off.” “Mmm… the best ones always do.” I hung up on him mid laugh and kept walking a few more blocks before hailing a cab. Walking was taking too long, and I had things to do. A woman to see. Babies to kiss. I was whistling when I got into the cab.
CHAPTER NINETEEN Scarlett
I wish I was with you. I smiled at Langston’s text on my phone. Was this what it was like in the beginning stages of falling in love? If it was, it was aptly named. It was like falling, spiraling in a dizzy rush of madness that I didn’t want to control. Didn’t want to end. Or was it just lust? Or hormones? The relief of not being totally alone in this new phase of my life? The problem was… what happened when the fall ended. Did you land safely or shatter into a million pieces? I had to admit, the fall was addicting… wonderful, breathless. But was it worth the risk of not knowing if I would be able to survive the inevitable impact with the ground? I sighed, knowing I was overthinking it all. I was driving myself crazy. Before I could overthink it some more, Samuel began to whimper, which turned quickly into a full-on cry. Wincing as every cell between my legs protested, I stood and picked him up, bouncing him, patting his bottom while I got the diaper and wipes ready for a change. He was a pretty baby, handsome like his father. Of course I would think that, but it was true. He was going to have Langston’s strong nose and jawline. And he would be tall too. He’d have his long fingers and feet. Dark hair. I wondered if his eyes would change from the dark newborn blue to the honey color that drove me wild. I pulled the little boy’s diaper away, gave the cool air a second to stimulate him, then pressed the diaper back down, feeling it grow warm under my fingers. “Tried to hose me, didn’t you?” I crooned. “Just remember, I’ve had lots of experience with little boys. I know these tricks.” When he was finished, I made quick work of the diaper change before checking on Sofi, hoping to find her ready to nurse too. No such luck. She was sleeping deeply. I stroked her cheek, unwrapped her, ran my nail up her foot. She made all the correct reactions but didn’t wake. “And you, little girl, are like your mother.” It was my ability to sleep like a person in a coma that had saved me that terrible night. That and my brother. I hadn’t heard the window break. I hadn’t heard the footsteps in the hall. I hadn’t heard my father’s yells, my mother’s screams. It had been my brother who had shaken me awake and told me to hide under the bed.
Samuel began to wail, pulling me back to the present. I wrapped Sofi back up, bundling her tightly as she continued to sleep peacefully. I watched her chest move up and down, making sure that it was indeed sleep. Being a mother was going to make me sick with worry. “Looks like it’s you and me,” I told Samuel, who was on the verge of a full-scale wail. With only one baby to juggle, I chose the rocking chair instead of the bed. I was getting tired and sore from lying around so much. As hungry as he was, he didn’t latch on immediately, struggling more with eating than his sister. He was furious, his face an angry red, his little fist pounding on my breast before he got it right and started sucking madly. My uterus contracted hard, forcing me to lean forward and gnash my teeth against the pain. It was like labor all over again, but only for a few moments. While I knew it was coming, it didn’t make the experience any less painful. By the time Samuel was finished, Sofi was awake and screaming for her turn, so I had my hands full while I juggled everything around. I felt like an Olympic gold medal winner once I’d gotten her changed and on the breast. I was just sitting back and relaxing with my daughter when Samuel made a noise, and I looked over to see that he’d spit up. Juggling some more, I got him relatively cleaned up, sweeping his mouth with my finger to make sure there was nothing left that might cause a problem. He was spitting up on a regular basis, unlike his smaller sister who was nursing like a champ. I couldn’t help but worry. I’d been a mother for less than twenty-four hours, and it seemed that was all I did. I couldn’t tell if being a registered nurse and knowing everything that could go wrong was better or worse. So I rocked and nursed, changed diapers and burped. I worried about the babies, and I worried about my relationship, or lack of it, with Langston. My phone pinged, and I smiled to find a text message from the man my thoughts were unable to stray from for very long. Last surgery was successful. In a taxi. Be there soon. The poor man. I wondered what his normal schedule was going to be like. Was he a workaholic I’d never see? How did he act when he’d gotten little sleep? There was so much I didn’t know, but I wanted to. A soft knock came on the door. “Come in.” Amy appeared, a teddy bear under each arm. “How’s my bestie and my godbesties?” I was instantly grinning. It was so good to see my friend. She didn’t even look tired after a long day of dealing with teenagers. “We’re doing good. Haven’t dropped a baby yet, so that’s a plus.” She snorted and tossed the bears on the bed before washing her hands, much to my relief. “You’re a better woman than me. How’s the baby daddy?” I scowled. “Don’t call him that. Langston is doing amazingly well under the circumstances.”
She snorted again. “That’s such a preppy name.” I sighed. She fluttered her lips. “Am I being bitchy?” When I gave her a blank look, she sank onto the bed. “All right. I can feel the bitch trying to dig itself out of me.” “Does somebody need a nap?” I asked, trying for teasing, but it didn’t erase the worry from her face. She grabbed a baby blanket, wrinkled her nose when she ended up with Samuel’s spit up on her hand. “What do you know about this man, Scarlett?” The question was a surprise, especially with the venom behind it. It startled me, adding another worry to my list of worries. “Not a lot yet. Why?” “Did you know he has more money than God?” “Well, he’s a doctor. I haven’t asked him to show me his savings account, but I kind of figured he was doing okay.” “He’s a billionaire,” she said flatly. It was my time to snort. “No way. Billionaires drive fancy cars and spent half their time on luxury jets.” Her face was blank. “What kind of car does he drive?” Hmm… she’d got me there. “I don’t know.” “Does he own a luxury jet?” Tension was tightening my chest. “I don’t know.” “Scarlett, where does he live?” “I. Don’t. Know,” I yelled this time, causing Sofi to throw her arms out in a startle reflex. I patted her bottom, settling her down. “He has a three-story carriage house, at least that’s what he called it. He wants to convert the top floor into a nursery for the babies. He wants me to live with him so he can help with the children. His favorite color is gray. He’s a humanitarian because he worked with Doctors Beyond Borders. He’s kind. He’s hot. He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. That’s what I know, Amy. That’s all I know.” Her eyes softened. “He wants you to come live with him?” I nodded. “Yes.” “What did you tell him?” “That I needed to think about it.” She leaned forward and stroked Sofi’s hand with her finger. “Did he pressure you about saying yes?” “Not at all.” Amy sighed, pressed her fingers to her temple, and grumbled, “He better not. I might not be able to take him down, but I could put in a few good shots.”
I smiled. “I bloodied his nose today?” She gaped. “What? Why? Tell me everything.” So I did. Every detail. I told her about him finding me in the shower and washing me clean. I told her about the kiss. Our talk. The nightmare. The way I felt about it all. I told her everything and watched her eyes take on the same dreamy quality I was sure mine contained. “Does it feel too good to be true, Scar?” I nodded. It felt exactly that way. “Well, I can’t think of anyone more deserving of a prince charming and happily ever after.” “We all deserve it,” I countered. My phone pinged. It was Langston: Be there in an hour. Need anything? Me: No, I’m good. Thanks. Langston: Up for visitors? My mom and grandparents want to see the babies. That shook me. Me: Today? When? My phone rang in my hands, making me jump. It was Langston. “Hello.” “Calling was easier.” It was the first time I’d heard his voice on the phone, I realized. We had as many firsts to experience together as the babies did. “Good idea. So… was your mother happy? Upset? What can I expect?” “I think it’s safe to say that you can expect a full body tackle.” “What?” He laughed. “She’s beyond thrilled. She might not tackle you, but expect an outpouring of love.” It had been so long since a mother held me in her arms. Just the thought of it made tears burn in my eyes. “When will they be here?” “About an hour. Since I’m on my way, I’ll meet them at the hospital and introduce you all properly.” I blew out a breath and lifted my hand to check the state of my hair. Ridiculous, as always. “Langston…?” “Yes?” “I can’t believe you told them before the test results arrived.”
His voice deepened. “The test is just a formality, Scarlett. I don’t ever need to see the results. I already know.” “Okay.” I motioned for Amy to get Sofi from me. “I’m going to go freak out over my hair now.” He laughed. “You’re beautiful. Don’t freak out much. Or was that wasted breath?” “Oh ho ho… wasted breath indeed.” He was still laughing when I hung up on him, then grunted my way up from the chair. Amy laid Sofi down and turned to me. “I heard. What do you need?” “New hair. New face. New clothes. New body.” Amy rolled her eyes and went to my suitcase. She pulled out a cute little gown and robe set I’d bought but hadn’t bothered to wear yet. I nodded enthusiastically. “I’m going to shower real quick. I feel like a soured milk mess.” It took me the full hour to do something so simple. I was nursing again as Amy dried my hair with the diffuser. I wanted to do something to my face, but beyond a swipe of mascara and a little powder and tinted lip gloss, I was too tired to try anything more dramatic. The soft knock came just a few minutes after four. “Come in,” I said from my perch in the bed. I’d almost chosen the rocking chair again, but liked the idea of having blankets piled on me better. They camouflaged my still significant stomach. The door opened and Langston appeared first. He had two orchids in his hands. One pink and one blue. I didn’t even have time to admire them before a woman of about my size came in behind him, a nervous smile on her face. Considering Langston’s age, she had to be in her mid to late fifties, but she could pass as forty easily. “Hello, Scarlett.” Her honey-colored eyes kept flicking to the babies in the crib beside me. They flicked to Amy and back to me. An older couple came in last, both with unsure expressions on their faces. Both richly dressed, the woman wore diamonds that would have blinded me had the light in the room hit them the right way. I didn’t know which designer dress she was wearing, but it looked crazy expensive. “Scarlett, I’d like to introduce my mother, Angela Kimbrough, as well as my grandparents, George and Hellen Langston. Everyone, this is Scarlett Alder, and her friend Amy… um…” Amy lifted a hand. “Amy James. It’s nice to meet you all.” Their last name was Langston. Now I understood yet another thing about the man standing in the middle of the room. But I had no time to comment on it because Mrs. Kimbrough was throwing her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. “Darling, I’m so thrilled to meet you. What a wonderful, beautiful surprise I had today.” She pulled away and looked into the clear-sided crib, her hand going to her mouth. “Oh… they’re… they’re…” Tears spilled over as she just looked down at her grandchildren. “So very beautiful.”
There was a click, and I looked over to see Amy taking pictures. She smiled at me and lifted a shoulder. She was trying to be a badass, but she was as touched by this moment as I was. “Mom, Gran, Pops…” Langston squirted some antibacterial soap into his hands and picked up Sofi. “Meet Sofi Elizabeth.” Mrs. Kimbrough looked over at me. “May I?” “Of course.” Without any urging, she disinfected her hands too, making me like her even more. “Hi, Sofi. Oh…” She held her tight, staring down into the little face before pressing her lips to the baby’s forehead. Langston picked up our son. “And this is Samuel Joseph.” With her arms full, she just leaned forward to kiss his forehead too. “Hello, Samuel. You look exactly like your father.” I exhaled. There was no hesitation, no questions, no funny looks, no nothing. Just a perfect acceptance of the babies, and me. I simply sank into the warm welcome of both Mr. and Mrs. Langston, then grinned as they held the babies close. “This is such a happy day,” Mrs. Langston said. “I never thought this rascal would ever settle down.” “Gran…” “Don’t you Gran me, young man.” It was all said with love, with twinkles in eyes, an easy air filling the room. “I went shopping,” Mrs. Kimbrough said, patting Sofi’s bottom, and her father rolled his eyes. “Did she ever? I hope you live in a palace because I think you might need one. My daughter practically bought out the store.” Langston’s mom gave a little eye roll. “Don’t listen to him. He’s exaggerating. But, oh, I wanted to. The newborn clothes were so precious. I could have shopped all day.” “Thank you, Mrs. Kimbrough. I—” She gasped. “My lovely Scarlett, please don’t call me that. I’m Angela until you feel comfortable enough to call me Mom.” She stroked my cheek with her hand. “I always wanted a daughter, so please excuse me if I dote.” She leaned down and kissed Sofi’s cheek. “And a granddaughter and grandson all on the same day. I just can’t get over it.” Oh my god, the tears. They burned an aching path into my sinuses and nose, springing to my eyes so fast and hard, I was surprised they didn’t jump from my tear ducts and splash her in the face. “Angela… thank you. I know this was a surprise and miles beyond conventional, but I appreciate your kindness and understanding. In truth, I have very limited storage in my
apartment.” Her eyes snapped to Langston before landing back on me. “Langston has plenty of room. In fact—” “Mom—” Langston’s voice held a warning note she ignored with a wave of her hand. “There’s an entire floor just for the nursery suite. The house has an elevator, so you wouldn’t have to worry with—” “Mom—” “Heaving babies and all their stuff up and down the stairs. There are only two official bedrooms and bathrooms on that floor, but I’m quite sure we could have a contractor build a third if you’d like a nanny to help you with things.” “Mom!” She sighed and stroked my cheek again, and it took everything inside me not to lean into the touch. “Think about it. When I met Langston’s father, I knew within minutes that I’d be living the rest of my life with him. Well, the rest of his life as it sadly turned out.” She leaned closer and whispered in my ear. “We slept together that first night too, and I never regretted it. Not for an instant.” She leaned back and raised her voice again. “Dating is a reasonable course of action, but under the circumstances, maybe a more reasonable course of action would be for you to date while in the same home.” “She means living in sin,” Mr. Langston said and got a stiff stab in his ribs by Mrs. Langston. She looked down at Samuel to make sure she hadn’t jostled him too much. She had to be in her late seventies, but she was as spry as someone much younger. “George, you stay out of this.” “I will not. I think they should just get married.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a little box. “When we went by the house, I got this out of the safe.” He snapped it open, and I almost couldn’t hear my gasp over Amy’s. It was the size of a refrigerator. Okay, maybe not that big, but it was big. “This was Langston’s great grandmother’s engagement ring. Get down on your knee, boy, and make this beautiful girl an honest woman.” We all stared at him. There wasn’t a sound in the room. “Pops, um, I—” I looked up at the father of my children, who looked like he might very well pass out. I reached out and grabbed a handful of his scrubs to keep him steady. “Mr. Langston,” I began, “I—” “Call me Pops, young lady.” The ring was still extended in my direction. “And those two can call me G-Pops when they get old enough to talk. If you don’t want to marry my grandson, you can move in with Hellen and me. We’ll take good care of you, don’t you worry.” Another elbow. “George!” “Dad!” Angela scolded. “Scarlett can stay with me if she wants.”
“No!” Langston yelled over the chaos. “She’s with me.” The riot of raised voices startled Sofi awake. Her face scrunched up and she began to wail. Angela began patting her on the bottom, looking anxious to have caused her granddaughter distress. “Hey!” That came from Amy, of course, who was marching into the middle of the room, her hand in a “time-out” motion. “Cut it out, people!” When Samuel began to wail too, I promptly burst into tears.
CHAPTER TWENTY Langston
Well, this was a terrific idea. I didn’t know who to yell at first, but absolutely knew who I wanted to throttle. A ring? Pops brought a ring? Living in sin? If I didn’t love him so much, I would happily kill him. When Scarlett burst into tears, it was too much. I was beside her in an instant. Mom, still bouncing Sofi, was next. Then Gran and Pops grew quiet while Amy’s eyes scanned the room, ready to pounce on anyone who moved. “I’m so sorry, Scarlett,” I said, wrapping an arm around her shaking shoulders. “Yes, Scarlett,” Angela added. “We didn’t mean to cause you distress.” Pops got yet another elbow from Gran. He grunted and stuck the ring into his pocket. “Yeah. Yeah. Sorry about that.” Scarlett wiped her eyes on the bedsheets, and I fished a box of Kleenex out of the bedside table. She blew her nose, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “I hate to cry,” she said, “and I think that’s all I’ve done for months.” Because of me. Mom patted her leg. “Honey, please don’t cry. You’ll learn that we’re a pretty passionate crew when it’s about something important to us. And you’re important to us.” That got Scarlett crying hard again. I gave Mom a withering glare, and then felt sorry for doing so when she lifted her shoulders in a miserable I don’t know what else to do shrug. She had just been trying to help, give a nudge, something. I could tell that she had been just as surprised as me when Pops pulled out the ring. “It’s okay, Mom.” Scarlett sniffed hard, looking embarrassed. “Yes, it is okay. I’m not crying because I’m upset over the fighting. It’s just that you all were arguing over who wanted me and the babies.” My heart squeezed. I knew so little about her, but I did know that her family died when she was young. I wasn’t sure what happened to her after that. But I wanted to know. I wanted to know everything. And I wanted to spend the rest of my life making sure she never felt unwanted again. “We should go,” Mom said, pressing her lips to Sofi’s forehead. Scarlett took a deep breath. “No, please. It’s okay. I—” A knock came on the door. Holy shit. What now?
It opened and Olivia came in. Her eyes sharpened when she saw that Scarlett was in tears. She rapidly crossed the room. “Scar, what can I do?” Scarlett rallied. “I’m okay. Just got a little emotional, is all.” “Do you need some privacy?” She looked pointedly around the room. Olivia pulled a white envelope from her pocket, then shoved it back down. It was from the lab. It was like a wrecking ball hit me in the chest, and it was hard to breathe while Scarlett stiffened at my side. Very slowly, she held out her hand, and just as slowly, Olivia pulled the envelope out again, placing it in her palm. “What’s that?” Pops asked. “George!” He grumbled but didn’t ask again. “Here,” Scarlett said, handing me the envelope. I didn’t take it. “I don’t need to see inside.” “Inside what?” was followed by, “Stop hitting me, woman.” The envelope hung in the air between us, suspended on the tips of her fingers. “Oh, good grief.” Amy marched forward and snatched it out of Scarlett’s hand. Without wasting a second, she ripped it open, and scanned the page. I couldn’t fucking breathe. Which was stupid. These were my babies. Mine. Scarlett and I would figure things out between us, and we’d raise them together. And if they’re not? That wicked, wicked voice whispered those hateful words in my ear. I kissed Scarlett’s hair. If they weren’t, it wouldn’t matter. I wanted the woman beside me. I wanted these children. I already loved them. I would accept them as my own. There were two pages. Amy looked at the second, then let them drop to her sides, her expression unreadable. “I don’t want to know,” I said, pulling Scarlett against me closer. “They’re mine no matter what that paper says.” “What paper?” Pops whispered. “George!” Gran whispered back. “Congratulations, Langston,” Amy said, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “You’re a daddy.” She looked at the paper again. “At least there’s 99.9998% probability. I think that’s close enough.” Scarlett’s hand found mine, and our fingers intertwined. “I think we should go and let these two be alone for a while,” Mom said, standing up, still holding Sofi. I smiled at the sight. Smiled at how happy this was making her. Glad these two little kids would give her something to focus on besides grief. Olivia moved first, wheeling the crib over and depositing both babies inside. “I’ll take
them to the nursery for a bit.” Scarlett nodded. “Thank you.” Mom leaned down and kissed Scarlett on the cheek. “I’m sorry for the drama. I promise to do better next time.” Scarlett kissed her back. “Please visit again soon.” She actually looked like she meant it. I hugged Mom while Gran got her turn with my girl. Then they were gone, leaving only Amy and us in the room. “I’m going to head out too. Call if you need anything.” She met my eyes, looking the softest I’d ever seen her. “Congratulations. Really. I’m glad it’s you.” When she was gone, I sat back down on the bed, and wrapped Scarlett in my arms again. Our fingers automatically linked together. “Are you okay?” I asked, kissing her hair. She immediately nodded. “You?” I kissed her knuckles, one at a time. “I am now.” The silence between us was comfortable for a while, then I felt her begin to stiffen and I wasn’t sure why. “Are you okay?” “Yeah. I want to tell you about why I cried earlier. I hate to cry. Hate the weakness and lack of control, so if I cry again, just let me, okay?” I inhaled deeply. “Okay.” “When I was eight, a man broke into our house,” she said, and I closed my eyes, knowing what was coming next. “He killed my father first, at least that was what I was told. He tortured and raped my mother I learned later. When Samuel woke me, I heard her screaming, she was yelling that the kids were with her sister for the week. My brother, Samuel, my twin, covered my mouth so I couldn’t scream, and he pushed me under the bed. He crawled in beside me and told me to stay quiet.” I shivered. “You don’t have to do—” “I could hear heavy footsteps moving through the house. Things were being turned over, doors opened and closed. Samuel and I just laid there, holding hands. I thought my heart was going to trip out of my chest when he came into my room. He kicked a foot under the bed but didn’t bend down to check. I managed not to make a sound even though we laid there for about an hour while the man made himself something to eat.” Jesus. “He was getting ready to leave, I think. His footsteps where in the hallway again, heading toward the front door. Do you know what I did next?” “No, sweetheart. I don’t know.” “I sneezed.”
I closed my eyes, beginning to understand the source of her guilt. “There had been no buildup. Nothing. There was no ah ah before the choo. There wasn’t any of that. I just sneezed this high-pitched sound that felt like a bolt of lightning in the room. Samuel looked at me in total horror and we waited to see if maybe the man didn’t hear it after all.” “But he did.” It wasn’t a question. “Yes, he did. The man’s footsteps came echoing back down the hallway. Before I could stop Samuel, he shushed me, then crawled out from under the bed. From where I lay, I saw his feet go into our closet. Then, the man came in, and he kicked the bed. My hands were over my mouth, but I screamed just loud enough for him to hear.” I didn’t want to listen to any more. “Scarlett—” “He did the oddest thing. He began stabbing the bed. It was just a single mattress with no box spring underneath, and I could see the blade come down through it over and over again. The man was laughing. It was a game to him. Every time he pulled the blade up, he said, “No blood yet, no blood yet.” She rubbed her side, and my teeth gritted as I knew what was coming next. “I’d gotten as close to the wall as I could and was on my side. One of the strikes came down just an inch in front of my face. The next one hit me, and I screamed. That’s when I heard Samuel scream too, and he came running from the closet. I couldn’t see what was going on, but I later learned that there was a baseball bat near his body and police believe he attacked the man with it. He was only eight, so he couldn’t hit him hard enough.” I stroked her hair, curling it around my finger as she told me the story in a monotone. “The man stabbed Samuel in the stomach. He fell to the floor, and I saw the knife come down in his back. When the man got down on his hands and knees to look at me, I closed my eyes and pretended I was dead. There was so much blood, I guess he believed I was gone.” “I’m so sorry.” “Yeah, me too. They were all so great. Samuel was great. We fought, of course, but we had that twin thing going on for us so we were really tight. Until I sneezed. That’s what made everything worse. If I hadn’t sneezed, at least he would be alive right now. It messed me up.” “Of course it did. It would have messed anyone up.” “Once the man left, I managed to crawl out and get to the phone. I was still bleeding badly, and I don’t remember the ambulance coming and taking me to the hospital. I don’t remember anything until the next day when I woke up to find policemen in my room.” “Did they catch the man?” “No. That also messed me up for a long time. It took me years to sleep with the light off. In fact, it took me years to sleep at all. I was always a heavy sleeper, but after the attack, I couldn’t allow myself to drift off. I went through ten years of therapy before I started sleeping well again.”
“And you became a heavy sleeper like you were as a child.” “Yeah. It was like I was trying to make up time for all the sleep I missed. But anyway, I was passed around from relative to relative for a little while, but none of them could handle me. I was either catatonic or I was filled with rage. I finally ended up on my aunt and uncle’s farm. They had never wanted children of their own, but they were too kind to put me in the foster system. They were nice, but cold. I could hear them fight over money and how much my therapy cost.” That’s why she never felt wanted. “The animals saved me. I took care of them, but I didn’t want to be a vet. I couldn’t bear to see one sick. My favorite part was being able to help with the births. That’s when I knew what I wanted to be.” “What about being a wedding planner?” She laughed. “I can’t believe you remember that.” I lifted her chin until she met my eyes. “I remember everything. That’s why I wanted to see you again. That’s why…” Just say it. “Scarlett…” My pulse was almost pounding out of my skin. “That’s why I so badly wanted you to call.” Confusion was a mask on her face as she gingerly sat up and turned to fully face me. “How? Langston, how could I have done that? How could I have called you?” I searched her face. Searched those clear blue eyes. She hadn’t seen it. “I left a note.” Air gushed from her lungs. “You did? Where?” “On the nightstand. I placed a glass of orange juice on top.” She stared at me, then some sort of comprehension set in, and horror replaced the confusion. “I saw it. The orange juice, I mean. I overslept and Melinda called to see where I was. In a panic, I jumped out of bed and got ready quickly. I was out of the door within minutes.” I pressed my forehead against hers. “I waited for you to call me.” Her breath was warm on my face when she spoke. “I thought you’d walked out and never looked back. I thought I wasn’t even worth a goodbye.” We both exhaled at the same time. She winced as she settled back into the bed next to me again, both of us lost in our own thoughts. She hadn’t seen the note. That knowledge was a momentous relief. “Scarlett?” “Hmm?”
“You are worth so much more than I could ever give you, but will you give me the chance to try?” She smiled and everything inside me nearly collapsed in relief. “On one condition.” This didn’t sound good. “What’s the condition?” “Five dates.” “What?” “Before our night together, I had a very strict five-date rule before I had sex with a man.” I ground my teeth together at the thought of her sleeping with anyone else, and her smile got bigger as she read my mind. “Don’t worry, most men didn’t make it that far.” “So, you want me to take you out on five dates, then what?” I lifted a brow. The smile transformed into something sensual that made my cock twitch in my pants. “Then, I’ll give you the chance to try.” I moved my hand to her belly, feeling the soft flesh wiggle under my palm. “Five dates, once a week. Time to get to know each other. Even better, it gives you time to heal. I like that. I won’t feel so much like a dirty old man if you’re healthy enough to run away.” She laughed. “I’m not worried about running. I’ll sic Amy on you instead.” I pressed a hand to my heart and gave a fake shudder. “Not that. Anything but that.” She laughed, but the sound was caught in my mouth as I took her lips in a deep kiss. God, I loved kissing her. Loved having her hair between my fingers as our mouths worshipped each other’s, our tongues dancing and seeking entrance. I pushed her hand away when it moved between my legs, her palm pressing against my rapidly stiffening cock. “Scarlett, we can’t.” She didn’t listen, just tugged on the string of my scrub bottom. “I know we can’t, but we can play a little bit. I really did miss you.” I kissed her cheek, her ear as her hand slipped inside the pants and she found me, her palm soft as she stroked down my length. “You are a witch.” She laughed. “If I were a witch, I’d ride your broom.” God, she was adorable. I stroked a hand up her back and down to her ass, kneading her flesh there. “When you get fully healed, I can’t wait to eat you again. I think about how you tasted and the sounds you made as you came on my tongue.” She groaned. “These next few weeks are going to be miserable.” She squeezed my cock, her hand stroking up and down. “You need to stop, sweetheart. It’s not fair that I get release and you don’t.” She bit her lip but didn’t stop stroking me. “How about I finish this, then you massage my feet?” “Just your feet?” I asked and she lifted a brow.
“Do you do more than feet?” I kissed her ear again, moaning as her hand squeezed me tighter. “I’ll do anything. Haven’t you learned that about me yet?” “Then do anything you want.” She grinned. “Except the boobs. You might want to stay away from those.” She began to stroke me in earnest. I squeezed her breast through her gown. “I heard that milk comes in quicker with added stimulation.” She grinned and stroked faster, squeezing harder on the downstroke. “I don’t think it was this kind of stimulation they had in mind.” I kissed her again, her mouth capturing my moan. She reached up and moved my hand lower, over her belly and lower still. “Scarlett…” I said as her intension became clear. “I don’t think this is wise.” She stroked me harder and sucked on my lower lip. “Clitoral stimulation is okay. Stay outside the clothes, but please touch me, Langston. Please.” She seemed to be in so much pain, and I’d do anything to give her relief. I didn’t care about any of the postpartum messiness. Shit like that meant nothing to me. But I cared about her. I didn’t want to hurt her. “Sweetheart… I promise to make love to you every day once you’re healed. Twice a day if that’s what you want.” Her lower lip poked out. “But I want to have sex now.” I kissed the tip of her nose. “Me too, but I don’t want to hurt you.” She sighed, and her grip on me softened. “Do you have any idea how horny I was while I was pregnant? I had all these hormones surging through me and no one to surge them with. Kind of like now.” Surge them with? I didn’t dare laugh, just gathered her close to me. “I wish I’d been there for you. I wish I could have watched your body change and satisfy any cravings you had.” With a sigh, she pulled her hand from my pants and snuggled close. “Do I still get the massage?” “Absolutely.” “That’s good.” I started to get up but she didn’t let me go. “Just hold me for now. Massage later.” I tried to remember the last time I’d ever just cuddled with a woman. Not since the conniving bitch, Leesa, I realized. I’d spent all these years missing out on the pleasure of just holding someone in my arms. Not just someone, I realized. Her. Listening to her breathing grow long and steady, I relaxed and paced her breathing with my own. Soon, I was slipping in the abyss with her.
*** Someone cleared their throat. It was Olivia with the babies. She was trying not to grin but was completely unable to contain it as she wheeled them inside. “You’ve got some hungry ones, Daddy.” She winked at me. “Sorry to interrupt.” I yawned. “It’s okay. I think that’s part of the deal, being totally at their mercy.” Scarlett didn’t move, not even when I unwound myself from around her and slipped out of the bed. She didn’t wake as Olivia shook her shoulder, telling her it was time to nurse. I checked her breathing. She was fine. I really might need to hire a nanny for the times I wasn’t with her. Samuel whimpered, and Scarlett jerked straight up in the bed. If I had still been checking her breathing, she would have knocked me out. Not only was she awake, she was alert. She winced at the sudden movement but didn’t let any of that stop her from taking care of her children. Might not need that nanny after all. Unless she wanted the extra help, in which case, I didn’t blame her. As Scarlett began to nurse, I thought about her request. Five dates. She and the twins would be released from the hospital in the morning, and I’d need to give her a few days before our first date could take place. The problem was, I didn’t date. Not like people in normal society would. I met women, maybe had a drink before we screwed and went our separate ways. But that was it. No planning involved. What consisted of a date, anyway? Dinner and a movie? How could we do that with newborn twins at home? Maybe I was overthinking everything. I just needed to KISS it. Keep It Simple, Stupid. With that in mind, I began to plan.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE Scarlett
The babies and I had been home for five days. A crazy, exhausting five days. During that time, my milk came in, and I felt like a dairy cow most of the time. Nurse. Change diapers. Nurse. Repeat. And Langston was right there, sleeping on the couch in my tiny apartment when he wasn’t at the clinic or in surgery. I tried to get him to join me on the bed because his legs hung off the much smaller sofa, but he refused, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to “be a gentleman” if he slept that close to me. I snorted. “Who has ever claimed that you were a gentleman?” He bit my neck in response. Our first date consisted of Amy coming to my tiny apartment to babysit while we went down to the little coffee house. We were only gone for a half hour, but he insisted it was a date. I didn’t argue. Under the circumstances, a half hour of freedom was a luxury. Week two, I met with Langston’s decorator and his mom. I approved samples of colors she wanted for the third-floor nursery. When I’d fake glared at Langston, he just shrugged and said, “A man can hope.” He was still sleeping on the couch and had started walking funny, so I asked Amy to go out and buy a blowup mattress when he continued to refuse to sleep with me. After that, he slept on the floor every night, bringing the babies to me to nurse when they cried. “Are you trying to punish him for some reason?” Amy asked me. “Or is he trying to punish himself? You two are weird. Just do it already. Screw your brains out and get it out of your system.” “I pointed at my vagina. Out of service, remember?” I pointed to my boobs. “These are out of service too.” “Then at least move to his place where there’s more room. I actually feel sorry for the man.” I gaped at her, and she shrugged. “I do. I won’t admit it to him yet, but I like him. I think he’s in it for the long haul. And I think he loves you.” She kicked the air mattress as if it was proof. She had a point. I knew, and he knew, that we were both only prolonging the inevitable, but when I suggest that we null and void our five-week agreement, he refused. “Remember how important it was to you that I have proof of Samuel and Sofi’s paternity? You had to know that I knew without a shadow of a doubt that they were mine.” “Yes, I remember.” “This is the same for me. I need to know that you know that I’m committed to this. To
you. To our children. I don’t want to take the easy way out.” So… he slept on the air mattress, and we cooked together, ate together, changed poopy diapers together, bounced screaming babies together. I met his best friend, Josh, and my life expanded to include him as a friend too. I also met Langston’s father’s parents, who visited often. I’d never been so cared for. I’d never laughed as much. Cried as much. Held hands as much. For our second date, we took the babies to his mother’s apartment where she, Gran, and Pops babysat while we went for burgers and milkshakes with lots of ketchup covering the fries. We walked through the park for about fifteen minutes before heading back to his mother’s place to collect our children and hang out with what was quickly becoming my extended family. By week three, I wasn’t just falling in love, I was crashing to the ground as fast as a meteor hurling through space. We played board games and watched movies on Netflix, but we didn’t chill, just kissed and got each other so horny I thought we’d both explode. That was the week Langston got hosed by Samuel. He’d been lucky so far, but I knew it was coming. Every parent of a little boy got peed on, and Langston got it good, right in the mouth. As he spit and sputtered, Samuel just smiled, maybe proud of his good aim. It was hilarious. My only regret was that I hadn’t gotten it on video. The date was fancier that week. A real sit-down dinner in a cozy Italian restaurant that served melt in your mouth garlic twists that went strangely well with the sparkling grape juice Langston brought just for me. “Want to get to second base?” I asked him once we’d gotten the babies settled. I was actually desperate for many more bases than that, and from the tent in his pants, so was he. He smiled and cupped my breasts through my shirt. “It’s been a while since I counted bases, Mommy, but if memory serves, second base consists of anything above the waist.” I grinned. “See, you’re not that old, Daddy. Your memory seems to be working just fine.” He pulled me to him, still careful but not treating me like a fragile doll. His mouth was everywhere. My lips, my ears, my throat. We made out like horny teenagers, his hand finally moving under my shirt. His shirt. The one he’d left for me so long ago. “You look so sexy wearing this,” he murmured as he unbuttoned it slowly, kissing the exposed skin as he went. “Well, I’m pretty sure my bra was sexier back then.” I frowned at the nursing bra stuffed with pads. “And my cheekbones were bigger than my boobs back then too.” He laughed and nuzzled my much fuller cleavage with his nose. “Mmm… do you have any idea how often I’ve thought of doing this?” I moaned, my fingers stroking through his soft hair. It felt wonderful to be touched in a way that wasn’t purely functional. “They were beautiful then, and they’re even more beautiful now, as is the rest of you.” He took off my shirt and traced the curve of my cleavage with his tongue, kissing
every inch of skin exposed above the ugly nursing bra. When he pulled the cups down and licked my aching nipples, it was the single most erotic thing I’d ever experienced. “There is no part of you that I don’t think is perfect, Scarlett,” he said as he went lower, kissing the still squishy skin of my belly, tracing the stretch marks with his finger, then his tongue. He saved the scar on my side for last, and I didn’t stop him this time. I let him explore it, look at the tree of life that was growing from the reminder of death. By week four, there was no question. I loved him, and I held that knowledge as carefully as I held my children. Felt it grow as they grew, seemingly overnight. The descent didn’t seem so breathless now. Maybe it was because of the exhaustion and the twins needing so much care. Or maybe it was because we spent so much nonsexual time together as we worked as a team. On some days, it felt like I’d known him for years, then I’d discover some new piece of trivia about him or a new personality flaw would be uncovered and I’d be forced to remember that there was still so much I didn’t fully know. We grouched at each other. We made up with each other. We high-fived when we managed to get both babies asleep at the same time. Newborns slept a lot, but at times these two refused to be on the same schedule. It was hard. It was worth it. Our date that week was a birthday celebration for us both. He told me he made reservations at an elegant steakhouse, and I squeezed my still saggy body into a pair of Spanx and a pretty wrap dress his mother bought me. I’d been pumping regularly and freezing extra milk so we could spend more than an hour or two together, and when Angela, Gran, and Pops came to babysit, they shooed us off, making us promise to stay gone two hours at least. Instead of going straight to the restaurant, Langston took me to the top of the Empire State Building where he presented me with the most exquisite necklace consisting of an infinity circle with two diamonds. “This isn’t the kind of diamond I want to give you… yet,” he said with a grin, “but I hope you’ll know that this is a symbol of what I expect from us. Infinity. I love you, Scarlett. I think I’ve loved you since that first moment in the bar when your smile almost knocked me off the stool.” Of course, I cried. There was no stopping it. “It’s so beautiful,” I breathed as he placed it around my neck. “I love you too. And I look forward to infinity together.” Under the surface, a panic was growing. Knowing me so well, he asked, “What’s wrong?” “Nothing. It’s silly.” He pushed my hair back from my face. “Tell me.” It was silly, but it was also an indication of how far apart we were from each other financially. I had made him a gift for his birthday tomorrow, but it didn’t come close to what he’d given me. “It’s just that this…” I touched the necklace at the base of my throat, “is so expensive,
so much more than I—” He shut me up with a kiss that curled my toes and had mothers covering their children’s eyes. “You’re my gift,” he said against my lips, and I thought he meant it, but it didn’t ease the worry when I presented him with his birthday present the next day. My pottery wheel was one of the things I loved most, and while I’d had no time to create anything on it, I managed to cast molds of the babies’ hands and feet while Langston was in surgery or at the office. I’d also framed my favorite newborn photos, the sweet squishy ones of the babies in his arms. My worry was for nothing. He loved them, and I thought his appreciation for the gifts was sincere. If it wasn’t, I knew for sure he loved the secondary present I gave him. “It’s time for third base,” I said and pushed him down on the couch. I unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly, easing the jeans down his legs. The poor man groaned so loud when I touched him, I thought my birthday blowjob was going to end before it began. He held on, and it was very satisfying to watch him come unglued as I stroked him with my tongue and took him into my throat. He was cursing when he came in my mouth, trying to pull me away, but I refused to go. I wanted all of him, every last drop. And I took it, beginning to really feel like a woman again. “Best. Birthday. Ever.” He laid on the couch like a wet noodle for the longest time after that. Yes, I was definitely feeling like a woman again. By week five, I was a walking, talking hormone. So was he. I tried my best to make him make love to me, but he wouldn’t. “It’s not date night yet,” he chided, enjoying watching me whimper. “Two more days.” Then one. Then I was getting dressed. Since I didn’t know where we were going, I’d chosen a strapless dress — also a present from Langston’s mother — that was forgiving at the waistline and fell nearly to my ankles. “Where are we going?” I asked for the hundredth time as we walked out of my apartment, leaving Angela, Gran, and Pops on baby duty. “Still not telling.” When we turned onto the street of the carriage house, I knew. “Is the nursery done?” He didn’t answer, only smiled. It was. And it was more beautiful than I ever expected. It was an elegant gray with pops of pastels. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Toys everywhere. A nanny suite had also been added, even though I still didn’t think I wanted to go that route. In the backyard, the sweetest little playhouse had been built along with a swing set,
slide, and sandbox. I laughed. “It will be years before the kids can play out here,” I reminded him but he only shrugged. Inside, dinner was ready, a chef giving me a slight nod as we passed through the incredible kitchen. I groaned as I took the first bite of the perfectly grilled filet with roasted potatoes and asparagus that melted in my mouth. I was almost too full to eat the chocolate bomb, but I managed a few bites anyway. Afterwards, he led me to the second floor, which consisted of the master suite, his office, and… “This is for you,” he said as he opened another door. “Oh…” I couldn’t believe it. He’d created me an art studio, bigger pottery wheel and all. Along the walls were shelves and shelves of material. An electric kiln sat proudly in the corner. “I can’t believe it.” He smiled and ran his hands through my hair, kissing my forehead. “Well, I thought if the kitchen, backyard, and nursery wouldn’t convince you to come live with me here, this would.” I touched everything. It was getting dark outside, but I could still tell how wonderful it would be with all the natural daytime light. I turned from the tall window to thank him and found him down on one knee. Oh. My. Goodness. I just stared at him, my hands covering my mouth, my heart pounding in my chest. “We’ve known each other for a short time if we went by the standards of society, but you and I both know that what we have between us exceeds standards, transcends normal. Don’t make me wait, Scarlett. Put me out of my misery and tell me that you’ll marry me. I’ll—” “Yes.” He blinked. I’d taken him off script. Taken him by surprise. “You will?” I grinned. “On one condition.” He groaned and stood up, pulled a little black box from his pocket, causing the little girl inside me to squeal. He didn’t open it yet. He was playing with me too. “What’s the condition?” I stepped closer to him, trailing a hand down his chest until I was cupping his growing erection through his pants. “Make love to me.” I was in his arms in an instant, being carried down the hallway and into the master bedroom. I giggled when he tossed me on the bed and slipped my shoes off my feet.
He was already unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off as I explored the tattoo I loved so much. “You sure? I won’t hurt you?” I scrambled up from the bed and began to work on his pants, taking him into my mouth when his erection sprang free from the constriction. He pulled me up, and his cock made an erotic popping sound as it left my mouth. I licked my lips. His hands were rough but also strangely gentle as they pushed my dress down my body. He stared at the Spanx. “What the hell is that?” I blushed. “Baby blubber holder.” He growled and began the process of freeing me from the constricting device, yanking them down my legs like they’d offended his sensibilities. They went straight to the trash. “Hey!” “You’re beautiful. I love everything about you. Don’t erase the reminders of what your body experienced to give us our babies.” Yep. I was in love. But when he went to unhook the bra, I stopped him. “I’ll leak.” He grunted, tossing the bra to the floor. “Do you think I care?” Without giving me time to answer, his face was between my legs, his tongue on my cleft, my clit. My legs were too wobbly to hold me up, so I sank onto the bed, and he pushed my legs apart for better access. “I’ve missed this,” he said between licks, and I was so sensitive I thought I would scream. Then I did scream into my hand as I came, my body twisting as I tried to escape the overwhelming sensations that I’d craved for so long. As I was still coming down from the orgasm, he climbed up my body until his lips were on mine for a soul stealing kiss that tasted like me. “I love your lips,” he growled, his hand kneading my breast, not seeming to care that my body responded to his touch in its own unique way. He seemed fascinated by my breasts, touching and tasting as I writhed, begging for more. He moved away, but only for a minute as he finished stripping and pulled a condom from his pocket. “Unless you want more surprises,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. I gave him my harshest glare, which wasn’t very harsh because I was also smiling like a fool. “Put it on and let’s hope rubber roulette is kinder to us this time.” I’d almost forgotten how sexy he looked rolling it on. But only almost. It seemed incredible that so many months had passed since he was doing this same thing in front of me. I felt blessed that fate had circled us back together, giving us a second chance to be parents and lovers. I didn’t have time to think about anything anymore because he was on me, then in me,
taking it slow. He was careful, watching my face as my body stretched and accepted him one glorious inch at a time. There was some discomfort but not nearly enough to make him stop. “I love you, Scarlett,” he said against my lips. “And our children, and all the little ones to come.” How did a person’s heart fill so full and not explode from the happiness of it all? “I love you too. So very much.” I took his face in my hands. “Now, please, make me come.” He grinned. “Yes, Mommy.” And he did. Once. Twice. “You feel so good,” he said against my lips, growling like the beast he was as he took me over and over. His breath warmed the space between us, the lust — the love — in his eyes blazing into me full force. Our joining was just on the edge of barbaric, our bodies making amazingly erotic noises as they slapped together. When I came a third time, the earth didn’t just stop its rotation, it exploded, shattering into an infinity of pieces. He came too, and I could only hang onto him as he found his release. I pressed my face into his sweaty neck, my lips pressing to his racing pulse, feeling it begin to slow. Still not sated, he pulled my head back and started kissing me again with a wild hunger that branded me as his. He pulled out, groaning as our bodies disconnected, and I mourned the loss. “Marry me, Scarlett.” It was a demand. It was a plea. I kissed him back, biting at the lips I loved so much. “Yes. I’ll marry you. Tonight. Tomorrow. Whenever. I don’t care.” Tears fell from his eyes, surprising me with the intensity of his response. There was nothing like seeing a big, strong alpha man cry, and I held him, pressing my lips to his cheeks and promising to never let him go. Promising that he’d never be lonely again. When he changed condoms and joined our bodies again, the lovemaking was slower, a gentle rocking that was less urgent but no less erotic. We whispered words of love and hope between the softly gliding lips and sweeping tongues. Later, in his arms, he slid a ring on my finger. It wasn’t the boulder that had belonged to his grandfather. This one was more me. It was perfect. “It’s beautiful,” I said of the square cut diamond that glimmered in the soft light of his bedroom. “You know me so well.” We laid together like that, in the carriage house that would soon become our home. We talked about puppies and gardens and building a sunroom on the back. When my breasts began to remind me of the time, we dressed slowly and made our way back to my little apartment. As excited as I was about the new house, I was sad to be leaving the little place that had been my safe haven for all these years.
“Mommy and Daddy are home,” I cooed to the babies and got grins and little cooing noises in return. After saying goodbye to Angela, Gran, and Pops, I began to nurse while Langston rubbed my feet. When the babies were settled, we slept — for three entire hours, then we did it all again. It was perfect. Exactly right for us. It might not have been the happy ending of novels, but it was our happy ending. Poopy diapers and all.
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A Bonus Novel BLITZED BY THE BILLIONAIRE Alice Ward
CHAPTER ONE
I pinned a final cardboard rainbow to my “Welcome to Kindergarten” bulletin board and stepped back to admire my work. I pictured my tiny students filing into the classroom the following day. Their little smiles. The chatter. Even the ones with tears trying so hard to be brave. I hoped the cheerful board welcomed those little ones most of all. A loud knock drew my attention from the welcoming rainbow to my classroom door. My boyfriend, Ben, strode into the room with a broad smile. As our elementary school’s physical education teacher, he was in his standard gym clothes attire — sweatpants and tshirt. He looked sexy as hell, like he’d just rolled out of bed, and I silently cursed the fact that our relationship was “hands off” while we were working. “Hey, Emily,” he greeted me with a kiss on the forehead. “The board looks great. Are you about to wrap things up in here? I’m running to the club before the staff meeting. Want to join me?” In addition to teaching PE, Ben oversaw the boy’s club’s pee-wee football program. Between after school practices with the school’s sports teams and his time at the club, he didn’t have a lot of free time. But I was always happy to tag along and watch him with the kids. “I wish I could,” I replied with a sigh, pulling my long brunette hair into a sloppy bun. “Linda and I have a meeting with the Hollis family. We each have one of their twins this year, and they both have severe food allergies.” Ben raised an eyebrow and perched on one of the miniature desks. “Didn’t you two meet with them last week?” I nodded and sank into my cushioned desk chair. It was the first time I’d been off my feet all day. “They just need one last bit of reassurance that we understand what Alfie and Alana are and aren’t allowed to eat. I think they’ll ease up after school starts and they adjust to not having the kids at home all the time. I’m happy to reassure them as often as necessary, but I do wish I could go to the club with you.” Ben glanced down at his watch and rose to his feet. “Speaking of which, I should get going if I want to get back in time for the meeting. Want to order Thai and stay at my place tonight?” he asked, a grin lifting one corner of his mouth. The grin was contagious and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling back. “Yeah, I think that’s a tradition we should keep.” “Perfect. See you soon, baby.” He blew me a kiss and left the room. I stared at the closed classroom door and thought back to the night we’d become a couple. Ben and I met the previous summer when we were both hired to teach at The Day School, Portland’s state-of-the-art charter school in the working class King neighborhood. We were both fresh out of college and anxious about starting our careers. We bonded over
our newbie status at all of the staff development sessions, but our relationship was strictly platonic until the night before classes started. Ben found me in my classroom that night quizzing myself with flashcards of my students’ names and faces. I remembered being terrified on my first day of kindergarten and I was determined to make the day as easy as possible for my students. Ben suggested that we have dinner, one thing led to another, and we’d been together ever since. Ben was a walking cliché in the best possible ways. He’d been the star quarterback at his high school and went to Iowa State on a football scholarship. A torn ACL ended his senior season early, destroying his dreams to play in the NFL. After graduation, he returned to Portland to follow his next best dream of one day coaching his old high school team to a state championship. Physically, Ben was exactly what you’d envision if someone uttered the words “prom king.” He was tall and broad, with sandy blond hair, clear blue eyes, and dimples that made it impossible to stay mad at him for more than a few minutes. The most irresistible thing about him was he had no idea just how cute he really was. Ben was modest, reliable, and, in my friend Melissa’s opinion, predictable to a fault. But after the life I’d lived, predictable was just what I needed. My parents, Emma and Lee Kinkaid, were killed by a drunk driver on their way home from a Christmas party when I was just three months old. According to my Uncle Walt, it was the first time my mother left me. She hadn’t planned on joining my father at his office’s annual party, but Uncle Walt was in town for the holidays and he offered to watch me so they could enjoy some time together. A few hours later, a police officer arrived at the house and broke the news. Uncle Walt was my only surviving relative, save my mother’s parents who were already in a retirement home and in no condition to raise an infant. Uncle Walt adopted me and added my parents’ combined names to the moniker they’d given me, making my full name Emily Catherine Grace Kinkaid. It was a mouthful, but I was proud to carry my parents’ names. Uncle Walt was only twenty-four when he became my parent. I imagine most single men would immediately start looking for a wife after being thrust into instant, unexpected fatherhood. But not Uncle Walt. He was an incurable bachelor who, in his words, “loved women too much to settle for just one.” To his credit, I didn’t realize what a player he was when I was a child. I just thought he worked a lot. When I finally put two and two together, I kept my revelation to myself. I was old enough to realize he’d gone to great lengths to keep his private life out of our house and I had no desire to call him out on it. Uncle Walt had been completely unprepared to raise a child, but he figured things out the best he could along the way. In so many ways, he succeeded. Although my legal father, he never referred to himself as my dad. Instead, he filled our apartments with pictures of my parents and told me every story he remembered about them. When I went to him for advice, he’d tell me not just his opinion, but what he thought they would say as well. Because of him, I knew them despite the fact that I didn’t have a single memory of their faces. My uncle loved me and I have no doubt that he always had my best interests in mind. But my childhood wasn’t what anyone would call stable. Uncle Walt was a pilot and we
moved a lot as he was promoted up the ranks at Universal Air. He doted on me when he was home, but I spent a lot of time with nannies during the school year and at camps during the summer. Uncle Walt was very careful about who stayed with me and unlike most of the other pilots’ kids I knew, I never resented him for leaving. There had always been an unspoken understanding between us. Neither of us had the lives we were ‘supposed’ to, but it was okay because we were in it together. There were benefits to my uncle’s job. He got three weeks of paid vacation every year and we never had to pay for flights. That meant three weeks of exploring a new and exciting country every summer. But the vacation memories provided little comfort when arriving to yet another new school as the new girl, year after year. It wasn’t until I started college that I developed real, lasting friendships. After a lifetime of never knowing when Uncle Walt would announce that we were moving again, a rooted man like Ben was exactly what I needed. He’d grown up in Portland behind an honest-to-God white picket fence. His father, Carl, managed a branch of Pacific Bank and his mother, Lois, ran the local soup kitchen. Ben was the middle child, sandwiched between his sisters, Holly and Shannon. The entire family still met for Sunday morning service at United Methodist, followed by brunch at the nearby IHOP. The Garrison family welcomed me with open arms and I settled in just as eagerly. I longed to become an official member of a ‘regular’ family. And I had a hunch that my wait was almost over. A knock on the door snapped my attention back to the present. “Come in,” I called out, glancing at the clock on my wall. Mr. and Mrs. Hollis were due in fifteen minutes. The door swung open and Linda, the other kindergarten teacher, stepped into the room. She left the door cracked and squeezed behind the nearest desk with an exhausted sigh. “I can’t believe the kids show up tomorrow. You were right, I should have skipped the trip to Atlanta last week and gotten started on putting my room together. I’m going to be here half the night.” She twisted a crimson red curl between her fingers and stretched her long legs across the aisle. “It’s not every day that your high school sweetheart shows up out of nowhere and sweeps you off your feet again. How is Henry, by the way?” I asked with a grin. Linda blushed and a broad smile spread across her face. “He’s fantastic. We’ve been on the phone almost nonstop since I flew home. He’s packing his things in a U-Haul as we speak. He should be here by the end of the week.” “I can’t wait to meet him,” I replied, my grin growing wider. A year ago, that would have been a polite lie. When I first arrived at The Day School, I’d been put off by Linda’s aggressively bubbly personality. She was the type of person who’d never met a stranger and I’d found her instant openness and constant chatter incredibly overwhelming. But she’d grown on me over the year, and I was genuinely happy to see her so love struck. “I can’t wait to introduce you,” she gushed. “This all still feels like some sort of
dream. It’s all so exciting… Henry’s so exciting. He took me to look at rings while I was in Atlanta. And he’s already talking about me quitting my job so I can travel with him.” “That’s great,” I told her, my enthusiasm forced this time. She saw right through it and raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead,” she insisted. “Just say it.” “If your dream is to travel the world with Henry, by all means follow it. I just think you should keep in mind that living out of boxes and suitcases gets old pretty quick.” Linda crossed her legs and rolled her green eyes, her freckled face lit with amusement. “It’s not like we’d be traveling nonstop. Henry will be based here and I can stay behind when I feel like it. I understand that traveling gets old. What I don’t understand is how you’re happy to settle for a vanilla life after seeing first-hand how big this world is and how much it has to offer.” If it had been the first time she’d called my life vanilla, I may have been a little insulted. But that was her go-to term to describe the life I wanted with Ben. “I’m not settling. I love Ben,” I reminded her for the umpteenth time. “You love the idea of him,” she corrected me. I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off. “I know you’re tired of me bringing this up. But we’re friends, right?” “Right,” I agreed with a resigned sigh. “And as your friend, it’s my job to make sure you’re honest with yourself. I know you’re hoping for a proposal. And I think you might be right. Ben may be close to popping the question. But I’ve seen the way you look at him, Emily. You love him, but you’re not in love with him. There’s no spark, no fire between you. I get that you’re in love with his family. But if you and Ben get married, he’s the one you’ll be living with, day in and day out.” She leaned forward, her eyes earnest. “I don’t want you to wake up ten years from now and realize you’ve made a huge mistake.” I straightened my shoulders and diverted my eyes toward the window. I couldn’t look at Linda because a small voice in the back of my head was wondering if she was right. I’d made that mistake in college. I started dating my boyfriend Ryan the first semester of my sophomore year. Like Ben, Ryan had a large, stable family that had instantly accepted me into their fold. And I got so comfortable with them so quickly, I ignored the fact that Ryan and I were incompatible for a year and a half. This situation is entirely different. Ben and I love each other. Maybe we don’t ‘spark’. But we understand each other. We can depend on each other. And I’ll take that over fire any day. I cleared my throat and turned back to Linda. “Like you said, I’ve seen what the world has to offer. Now, I just want to carve out my own small, happy piece of it. I’m happy for you and Henry, I really am. Do you plan to finish out the school year? Or am I going to have to watch Mr. and Mrs. Hollis quiz your replacement on the proper administration of an Epi-pen?” I asked, attempting to bring our conversation back around to light-hearted.
Linda smiled back at me and climbed out of the tiny chair. “I haven’t made any decisions yet. But speaking of the Hollis family, we should head down to the nurse’s office. One of the commandments of teaching kindergarten is ‘thou shalt not keep nervous parents waiting.’” “Lead the way,” I said, rolling my chair away from my desk. I followed Linda out of the room and we set off to assure the Hollis parents once again that we were capable of taking care of their children.
*** “Are you ready for this?” Ben asked. He held open the door of Market Seafood and I stepped past him into the entryway. A blonde hostess in a crisp white shirt and black tie held open the interior door. I took Ben by the arm and gave him a determined smile. “Maybe he’ll be in a good mood,” I suggested, trying to hide my nerves. Uncle Walt had made it no secret that he disapproved of Ben, but for my sake, he usually stayed on his best behavior when we were all together. “Good evening,” the hostess greeted us. She ushered us through the door and grabbed two menus. “Hello,” Ben replied. “There will actually be three of us. I believe we have a reservation.” “Kinkaid?” she asked, a hint of a smile lighting her face. Uncle Walt’s still sweet talking the ladies, I see. I nodded and she returned the menus to the hostess station. “Walt is already here. Just follow me.” She snaked her way across the dimly lit dining room and I spotted my uncle at a corner table. His eyes fell on me and he rose with open arms. He wrapped me in a hug and kissed the side of my head. “It’s so good to see you, Em. I hope traffic wasn’t too bad?” I knew the question was a veiled reference to the fact that we were ten minutes late, but I kept my tone light and patient. “We got held up at school this afternoon and we’ve been running late ever since.” Ben pulled out my chair and Uncle Walt settled down across from me. A tall, bald waiter approached us with a bottle of wine. “Your Riesling, Mr. Kinkaid,” he announced. He pulled the cork and poured a splash into a long stemmed wine glass. Uncle Walt swirled, sniffed, and sampled it before nodding back at the waiter with a smile. “This is fantastic, Kevin, thank you.” “Are you ready to place your order, or would you like a few more minutes to look at the menu?” the waiter asked.
Uncle Walt looked from me to Ben and back again. “Do you know what you want?” We nodded our heads simultaneously. Market Seafood was my uncle’s favorite restaurant; we could all recite the memory by heart. We placed our orders and Keven gave us a final nod before disappearing. “So how was your first week of school?” Uncle Walt asked. “Hectic.” I leaned back in my chair with a long sigh. “Most of the kids in my class have older brothers and sisters, so they understood the concept of school when they arrived Wednesday morning. But I had a handful of kids who seemed terrified they’d never see their parents again. Most of them settled into our routine by yesterday afternoon. But I’m expecting a little regression when we show up again Monday morning.” “You have the patience of a saint,” my uncle insisted. He took a sip of his wine and turned to Ben. “And how was your week? I imagine you have an easier time of it. Emily here spends seven and a half hours a day trying to keep the kids still, and then they get to run loose for half an hour with you.” “Ben isn’t the recess monitor, Uncle Walt,” I broke in, my voice firm. “I explained to you that The Day School puts a strong emphasis on physical fitness.” Walt held his hands up in mock defeat, a smile spreading across his tan face. “Easy, Em. I was just teasing. I know Ben’s job is important. I didn’t mean any offense.” “None taken,” Ben insisted. “Honestly, I love my job so much, it doesn’t feel like a job.” “It doesn’t pay like one either,” Walt muttered under his breath. Ben took a long drink of his ice water and we both ignored my uncle’s comment. “Enough about us,” I announced, changing the subject. “What’s going on with you? How long are you in town?” Before he could answer, Kevin arrived at our table with a platter of appetizers. He promised our entrees would be out soon, checked our drinks, and moved on to the table beside us. “This looks delicious,” Walt announced, filling his small plate with crab cakes, calamari, and spicy shrimp cocktail. I studied him while he dunked a forkful of crab cake into remoulade sauce and savored the first bite. My uncle and I could have easily passed for father and daughter. We had the same high cheekbones, blue eyes, and chestnut hair, although his was tinged with gray around the edges. I realized then that Walt was tense about something. He was smiling, but his shoulders were taut and I had a feeling his mind was somewhere else. “So how long are you in town?” I asked again, filling my own plate with food. Walt swallowed a shrimp and washed it down with another sip of wine. “Actually, that’s why I wanted to see you guys tonight. I have news.”
Ben and I both set our forks down, giving Walt our full attention. “Well?” I pressed as he sat there silently. “Don’t keep us in suspense.” “I’m retiring from the airline… have retired, to be more precise.” “What?” I asked, sure I’d heard him wrong. Uncle Walt loved his job; the sudden early retirement didn’t make any sense. Panic grew in my chest while I waited for him to continue. It’s his health. He’s been grounded. It’s the only thing that makes sense. “Is everything okay, Walt?” Ben pressed, his voice full of concern. “Everything’s great,” he assured us. “In fact, they couldn’t be better. I know this will come as a shock to you, Emily, but I’ve met someone. Her name is Claudia and she’s a pediatrician here in Portland.” I stared at him for a moment, processing his words. “You’re quitting your job for a woman?” “I’m leaving the airline for a lot of reasons,” he replied, popping another shrimp into his mouth. I felt Ben relax beside me, but I was more wound up than ever. Uncle Walt announcing he was in a serious relationship was twice as shocking as his retirement announcement. I was too impatient to wait for him to swallow and continue. “What are the other reasons?” I demanded. “When did this happen? Where did you meet her? Why am I just hearing about all of this?” Uncle Walt took a sip of his wine and wiped his mouth with a crisp linen napkin. “Slow down, sweetheart. Claudia and I met about four months ago. I flew a nonstop to JFK, then took the jumpseat on a flight back home for my weekend off. Claudia had been in the city presenting a paper. We spent the whole flight talking. I think you’ll really like her.” “I can’t believe you’re going to introduce me to a woman,” I observed, my hunger finally outweighing my shock. I cleaned my appetizer plate while Walt continued. “I can hardly believe it myself. But it’s happening. As for why I didn’t tell you earlier, I wanted to wait until I knew things were serious. Claudia’s amazing, but like I said, she isn’t the only reason I’m leaving the airline. The constant traveling is starting to wear me out. I’ve never liked spending so much time away from you and I can finally afford to do something about it. I have savings, my pension, and I’ve taken a part-time job at a local charter company. I’m thrilled about all of this, Em. I hope you are too.” I studied him for a moment and then smiled. “If you’re thrilled, I’m thrilled. It will be nice to have you around more often. And I can’t wait to meet Claudia. Maybe we could all have dinner next weekend.” “I’ll check with her and see what fits in her schedule,” he promised. Ben scooted his chair away from the table and rose to his feet. “Excuse me, restroom,” he explained, tossing his napkin on the table. He left and my uncle turned to me with a scowl.
“Come on,” I groaned. “I just said if you’re happy, I’m happy. Can’t you just do the same in return?” “Absolutely not,” Walt replied with a slight shake of his head. “I know this guy has you snowed. But he isn’t who he wants you to think he is, Em. He’s a slick talking cad. Trust me, I’m right. I can spot my own kind from a mile away.” I was stunned into silence when he acknowledged his sordid romantic past. He gave me an amused smile and an eye roll of his own. “You’re an adult now, Emily. I think we can speak openly about this. I think we should talk openly about it. I know you know I liked to sew my wild oats, so to speak. But unlike Benny, I never pretended to be someone I’m not. If there’s one thing I can say for myself, I never let a woman believe I wanted a serious relationship. I flat out told them I didn’t. But this guy… he’s a real piece of work, sweetheart.” I pushed my shoulders back and stared back at him defiantly. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. And you’re making me angry. Ben is one of the good guys, Uncle Walt. He’s stable and wholesome, and you should see him with the kids. In fact, now that you’re going to be around more often, you should come to the club and watch a few games. I know you’re convinced that no man will ever be good enough for me, but if you’d just give Ben a chance—” “I’m quite sure there’s a man out there good enough for you,” he corrected me. “I’m even more certain that Ben isn’t that man. I can see I’m upsetting you, so I’ll drop it. But only if you promise me something.” I raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?” “Let another school year pass before you make any life-altering decisions.” I narrowed my eyes and scowled back at him. “If Ben asks me to marry him, I’m going to say yes.” “I get that. But—” “Here we are,” Kevin sang, sidling up to our table with a large tray balanced on one arm. “Sorry for the wait,” he continued, distributing the plates around the table. I stared down at my steamed mussels and pasta, thankful for the interruption. I swirled linguini around my fork and felt a gentle, familiar hand on my back. “Perfect timing,” Ben said, sliding back into his seat. “I’m starving.” “Is everything okay? You were gone awhile,” I whispered while Walt was distracted by Kevin. “I’m fine,” he insisted. He spread his napkin across his lap and sprinkled salt on his swordfish. He’s up to something. But it has to be something innocent. I know him better than Walt. Besides, if he were a player, he wouldn’t have stuck around for an entire year. Kevin carried the tray back to the kitchen and Walt turned to Ben with a somewhat forced smile.
“Emily invited me to come watch some of your games at the club. How many teams do you coach?” “I coach one basketball, one football, and one baseball team,” Ben explained. “But I coordinate all three programs.” “You’re a busy man,” Walt observed. “I like what I do,” Ben replied with a casual shrug. “You know, I was quite the football player back in high school. Maybe I could come out and coach a few games with you.” I could tell Ben was taken aback by the suggestion, but he handled it well. “I’d enjoy that very much, Walt. I’ll email you the team’s schedule.” Ben’s phone vibrated and he pulled it from his pocket before slowly rising to his feet. “Speaking of the club, this is one of my team moms. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.” “Of course,” Walt insisted with a dismissive wave. Ben strode quickly out of the dining room and I turned to my uncle, my eyebrow cocked again. “Five minutes ago, you were practically begging me to get rid of him. Now you’re volunteering to coach pee wee football?” “Yes.” He lifted his glass and swirled the liquid. “I’m going to give him a chance because you asked me to. And you’re going to think long and hard about what I asked you to do. Deal?” “Deal,” I agreed. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I was convinced that once Walt spent some one-on-one time with Ben, he’d understand why I had no intentions of leaving him.
*** “Thank you for suffering through that with me,” I told Ben, kicking off my shoes. I sat down on his bed and started pulling off my jewelry. “It wasn’t that bad,” he assured me. “I learned not to take Walt’s jibes personally a long time ago. He’s protective of you. I get it. He’ll have to warm up to me sooner or later because I’m not going anywhere.” I laid my rings on the nightstand and started stripping out of my clothes. I had more than sleeping on my mind, but Ben didn’t seem to get the hint. He tossed me a clean t-shirt and stepped into the hallway. “I’m going to make a drink. Do you want anything?” “No,” I called after him. I tossed the t-shirt to the floor alongside my discarded clothes and wiggled between
the sheets in nothing but my white lace panties. A few minutes later, I heard the television spring to life and groaned, feeling the spark of arousal doused. I leaned over the side of the bed and retrieved the t-shirt. I pulled it over my head and made my way to the living room. Ben was stretched out on the couch with a scotch and soda, his eyes fixed to a baseball game. “I thought we were going to bed,” I reminded him with a pout. “I was just going to check the score. But it’s all tied up at the end of the sixth. Why don’t you lay down and watch it with me?” he suggested. I sighed and squeezed onto the couch beside him. “We can’t fall asleep out here again,” I warned. “Last time, I had a crick in my neck for three days.” “Shh,” he said and nodded toward the TV. If Linda could see me now, I’d never hear the end of it. I think this is the definition of vanilla. Ben propped his elbow on the arm of the couch and took a long drink of his scotch. He covered my bare legs with a blanket and settled back down behind me. I waited until the commercial break to make my move. I turned in his arms, pushing my hips into his. “I really do appreciate the way you handled yourself tonight. It reminded me why I love you. And it made me want to show you just how much I love you.” I brushed my lips gently across Ben’s and stroked his face with a teasing finger. “Is that so?” he mumbled, leaning into my touch. I nodded and let my tongue dance into his mouth. I kissed him passionately, grinding my body into his. But I felt no response below Ben’s waist. The baseball announcer’s voice filled the room again, and Ben ended things as quickly as I’d started them. He reached for his drink and I rolled over in defeat. When did we stop having sex? This time last year, we couldn’t take our hands off of each other. Is it normal for the passion to fade so fast? Is this just part of the package when you finally find the person you’re supposed to be with? Is he just not attracted to me anymore? I tried to tell myself I was overreacting. Ben and I were only having sex about once a week. But it wasn’t as if we never touched each other. He just has a lower sex drive. All relationships are hot in the beginning. It’s normal that we’re not ripping each other’s clothes off anymore. But I’d think I’d at least get a rise out of him. I laid beneath Ben’s arm until I heard his soft snores, my teeth grinding harder with each exhale. I flipped off the television before waking him and dragging him to the bedroom. “I didn’t see the score,” he mumbled. “You’ll see it in the morning,” I promised.
We stumbled into the bedroom and collapsed onto the mattress. Ben reached for me with a sudden urgency, pulling me roughly against his body. This is what I’m talking about. I found his lips with mine and kissed him hungrily, pushing him against the headboard. I climbed into his lap and pulled the t-shirt over my head, and he groped at my breasts with his mouth. I rocked against him, determined to make him hard. “Let me kiss it,” I whispered into his ear. Ben let out a happy groan and unfastened his belt. I tugged down his slacks and boxers before diving for his cock. I took the head into my mouth, licking and teasing with everything I had. Despite my best efforts, he remained limp in my hand. “I’m sorry, Em,” he finally groaned. “I don’t think this is going to work.” I crawled off of him and collapsed on the other pillow. “Is something wrong?” I whispered. “Did I do something, or not do something?” “Nothing’s wrong,” he assured me with a yawn. “I’m exhausted, that’s all. The overtime I’m putting in at the club is draining me. I still find you incredibly sexy.” “You’re just tired?” I pressed. “Yes, baby. I’m just tired and I have a lot on my mind. The scotch probably didn’t help either.” He stroked my arm with his fingers. “Look Em, I know we’ve fallen into a bit of a rut. I promise I realize that, and I have every intention of doing something about it. But right now, I’m just too tired.” “I understand,” I assured him and propped myself up on one elbow, planting another soft kiss on his lips. “I think this is normal,” I continued. “Every couple goes through a sort of ebb and flow in the bedroom. I love you. That’s all that matters.” He pushed my hair back from my face. “I love you too, Emily. And I promise I’ll kick things back into ‘flow’ just as soon as I adjust to my new schedule.” Ben rolled over onto his side and pulled my back into his chest. His scruffy stubble tickled my neck as his breaths slowed and his snores started again. This man loves me and together we’re going to build the life I’ve always wanted. So what if we go through some dry spells. At least we’re going through them together.
CHAPTER TWO
“Thanks again for my special snack, Miss Kinkaid. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Alfie Hollis stood in the doorway of my classroom, waving at me with a bright smile. Unlike a lot of schools, The Day School hadn’t yet imposed a ban on parents bringing treats to school on their children’s birthdays and other special occasions. The parents were asked to keep their selections allergy friendly, but they seemed to consider this as a suggestion, not a requirement. I’d anticipated the problem and stocked the bottom drawer of my desk with dried fruit and vegan, nut free cookies so Alfie would never be left out. “You’re welcome, Alfie. Have a good night.” “You too, Miss Kinkaid.” He darted into the hallway and I shut down my laptop. I’d had a long, exhausting day complete with an injury report after one student whacked another upside the head with a wooden train. The principal and I were scheduled to meet with both sets of parents the following afternoon and I’d given my entire class a long talk about the importance of sharing. When the dismissal bell finally rang, all I wanted to do was go home, change into my pajamas, and have a lazy night with Ben. I locked up my classroom and found him in the school gymnasium shooting free throws. “Nice shot,” I called out as the ball swooshed through the net. He turned to me with a charming smile. “Thanks, babe. How was your day?” He dribbled the ball toward me and then tucked it under his arm as he leaned down to kiss the top of my head. “My day was terrible.” I leaned all my weight against him. “Are you ready to go? I thought we’d lay around my place and maybe order dinner in.” “I wish I could, baby. I have practice at the club tonight. And after, I’m meeting with the volunteer moms about the cheer program they want to start, remember?” “That’s right,” I sighed. “I forgot all about that. Do you want to come to my place later?” “I need to stay home tonight. The landlord is stopping by in the morning to look at the garbage disposal. I’m sorry, baby. I can tell you’ve had a rough day. Do you want me to cancel practice?” I shook my head. “No. I wish you could hang out with me, but I don’t want the kids to be disappointed.” “You could go to my place. I’m not sure what time I’ll be home. But we could have a little time together.” “That’s okay. I really feel like being home right now. Tomorrow night?” “It’s a date,” he agreed. “Go home, take a hot bath, and pamper yourself. I’ll call you
when I leave the club.” I leaned in for a quick hug and then turned toward the door. “Have a good practice,” I called over my shoulder. “Thanks, baby. I’ll talk to you soon.” The sound of his basketball bouncing off of the court echoed down the hallway as I made my way out of the building. I slid behind the wheel of my blue Prius, a graduation present from Uncle Walt, and drove out of the King neighborhood and into a much older, more white collar Irvington area. When my parents passed away, I was left with just shy of a quarter of a million dollars in life insurance money. Half of it was safely in the bank, earning interest. I’d spent the other half on a small condo about twenty minutes away from the school. If I’d gotten my way, I’d have bought something closer to work. But Walt insisted that I live in a safer area. He didn’t believe the King neighborhood was as revitalized as the locals claimed. I pulled into my parking space and quickly retreated to my unit before any of my neighbors spotted me. After the day I’d had, I was in no mood to make forced, friendly small talk. I changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, pulled my hair on top of my head, and settled in on my soft white sofa to binge on reality television. After three hours of watching spoiled socialites choose their wedding gowns, I realized I’d forgotten all about dinner. And the meal I was craving came from a diner that didn’t deliver. I’ll call it in but eat at the counter so I don’t have to deal with the take-out trash. I padded across the beige carpet in my socked feet and retrieved my phone from my purse. I called in my order and was told it would be ready in fifteen minutes. That doesn’t give me time to change. I’ll probably run into half of my parents if I leave the house looking like this. Screw it. My job is to teach their children, not wow them with my fashion sense. The Day School was technically a public school, so families weren’t charged tuition. But the school’s innovative teaching programs drew both the lower income families in King as well as the more affluent families in my neighborhood. Some days, I felt like I couldn’t turn around without tripping over someone from the school. But I was starving and didn’t have time to worry what they’d think of my sweats and oversized t-shirt. I stuffed my feet into laceless sneakers, grabbed my purse, and set off for the diner. I arrived ten minutes later and found the parking lot nearly empty. A bell chimed when I pushed open the heavy glass door and the smells of bacon, coffee, and pie hit my nose. A short, curvy woman with curly grey hair greeted me as I sat down at the counter. “What can I get for you, darlin’?” “I called in an order for Emily,” I explained. She looked at a little notepad. “Chicken fry with mashed potatoes and salad?” “That’s the one.”
She turned to the order window, where a small bowl of ranch covered lettuce and tomatoes waited atop a bucket of ice. She delivered it to me with a set of silverware rolled in a paper napkin. “Your steak will be up shortly. What can I get you to drink?” “I’ll have a Coke, easy on the ice,” I replied, mixing the salad with my fork. She filled a tall plastic cup and slid it across the counter. I took a long drink and shoveled lettuce into my mouth with a saltine. The bell chimed again and a few moments later, the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen sat down two stools away from me. I felt my face flush hot and kept my eyes fixed on my bowl. “Back so soon, Ethan?” the waitress asked, passing him a menu. “What can I say, Gladys. I dream about your apple pie.” His voice was warm and deep, but I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. “Water with lemon?” she asked, already filling his glass. “Yes, ma’am. And I’ll have my usual.” “You got it,” she replied. She jotted a few words on a ticket, tore it off her pad, and hung it in the window. “Order up, Earl,” she called into the kitchen. She turned back to my new dinner companion with an almost star-struck grin. I don’t blame you, Gladys. This guy looks like a statue of a Greek god brought to life. “So how was practice?” she asked. “Think you’ll be ready next month?” “I think so,” he told her. Before he could say more, the bell chimed again and a group of a dozen teenagers filled the diner. They spread out in four of the six booths and a few clustered around the jukebox. My meal appeared in the window and Gladys delivered it before setting off to greet her new customers. I stared down at my giant, gravy soaked plate and felt myself blush again. Fantastic. I’m sitting three feet away from Adonis, about to pig out in four-year-old sweatpants. I’ll eat fast and get out of here before I have to make eye contact with him. “That’s quite a steak you’ve got there,” he commented, shattering my hope to get through my meal unnoticed. “I’m hungry,” I explained awkwardly. Hungry and lame. “It’s nice to see a woman with an appetite,” he replied, but I couldn’t tell if he was teasing, serious, or simply grossed out. I finally looked up at him and my heart instantly raced. Like me, Ethan was wearing a plain white t-shirt and a pair of sweats. He had dark hair, hypnotic hazel eyes, and I could tell by the fit of his shirt that his body was as chiseled as his chin and cheekbones. “I’m Ethan McAlister,” he said with a cocky, expectant grin.
Well, isn’t he impressed by himself? Though I guess I’d be a little cocky too, if I looked like that. “Nice to meet you, Ethan. I’m Emily Kinkaid.” “It’s nice to meet you too.” The expectation on his face turned to amusement and he spun on his stool to face me. “So tell me, Emily Kinkaid, how is it that a beautiful woman such as yourself is dining alone tonight?” His voice dripped with charm. “My boyfriend coaches a pee-wee football team at the Boys Club, and they have practice tonight.” “And you didn’t tag along? Not a sports fan, I take it?” “I’m a huge sports fan. I just don’t like football.” He gave me an understanding nod and took a long drink of his water. “Let me guess, you think it’s too violent.” I swallowed a bite of my potatoes and chased it with a sip of my soda. “I think it’s too dangerous,” I corrected him. “For kids, at least. I don’t mind watching it on television, but when it’s one of your children on the field, it’s a completely different story.” His eyes widened with surprise. “You have kids?” “No,” I replied with a laugh. “I’m sorry. I teach kindergarten. I have a bad habit of referring to every kid in the school as mine.” The shock changed to relief and Gladys reappeared behind the counter. A platter of pancakes, sausage, and eggs appeared in the order window and she set it in front of Ethan before returning to the booths with a pot of coffee. “Kindergarten, huh? You must have a lot of energy,” he commented, covering his pancakes with syrup. “It ran out long before the final bell today, which is why I look like I’ve been hit by a truck,” I explained with a light-hearted laugh. “If you’re this beautiful when you’re exhausted, I’d love to see you on a good day,” he countered. I still couldn’t tell if he was teasing or being serious, but I was surprised by how at ease I felt around the handsome, charming stranger. He’s like Linda. I bet he’s never met a stranger. And I’m sure he flirts like this with every woman he comes across. But what the hell? It’s harmless. I may as well enjoy it. “I’m serious,” he continued. “I’m new to the area. I’d be incredibly grateful if you’d show me around sometime.” I shifted on my stool, suddenly nervous. “I have a boyfriend,” I told him again. “Which is why I’m asking for a tour, not a date,” he replied, completely undeterred. “Come on, you’d be doing me a huge favor.” He gave me the most adorable, pitiful puppy dog eyes and I had to turn away. I knew if I stared at him much longer, I’d agree to anything he wanted.
“I really can’t,” I insisted. “Even if it’s innocent, it’s a line I’m not willing to cross.” “So you’re beautiful and loyal. Your boyfriend is a lucky man.” “Thanks.” I stared down at my half eaten meal and knew I couldn’t take another bite. I leaned over the counter and fetched my own to-go box. “In a hurry?” he asked. I lifted a shoulder. “Sort of.” I filled the box and pulled a twenty from my wallet. “Gladys looks like she’s going to have her hands full for a while. Will you make sure she gets this?” I asked, setting the bill on the counter. “Sure,” he agreed. “If you’ll give me your phone number.” I blushed and shook my head. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.” “I understand. But I can’t stand the thought that I may never see you again.” I knew he was just flirting, but my pulse quickened and my heart felt like it might explode from my chest with excitement. I slung my purse over my shoulder and met his eyes with a smile. “I guess if we’re supposed to meet again, we will,” I teased. His eyes smoldered and he dropped his voice an octave. “I eat dinner here every Wednesday around this time. If you decide we’re meant to run into each other again, you know where to find me.” He’s serious. He’s actually interested in me. My smile softened and I dropped my tone to match the seriousness of his. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I promised. “Till next time, then,” he offered with a grin. “Till next time.” I walked out of the diner, filled with emotions I didn’t understand. I loved Ben, and I wanted to build a life with him. But when Ethan asked for my number, I regretted not being able to give it to him. I took the long way home, trying to sort out my feelings. I’m exhausted and my head isn’t on straight. Ben and I haven’t had much time together since school started. That’s why I got so caught up in Ethan’s flirting. I didn’t cross any lines. But if there’s one thing I’m sure of, I don’t need to see Ethan McAlister ever again.
*** On the second Friday of the school year, I reached a milestone in my class. Not one single child cried about missing their parents. I rewarded myself with a hot bath, followed by a night in bed with a bottle of wine and a week’s worth of television. I turned my alarm off before I drifted off, determined to sleep in Saturday morning. My friend Melissa had other ideas. She called bright and early at seven a.m.
“This better be good,” I mumbled into the phone. “Good morning, sunshine. I’m sorry to wake you. I thought you’d be up by now.” I pushed myself up against the headboard and reached for the bottle of water on my nightstand. My mouth tasted like sour wine and a dull throb filled the back of my head. “Monday through Friday, I would be. On the weekends, I sleep,” I reminded her. “Right, I’ll try to remember that next time.” “It’s okay,” I replied through a yawn. “What’s going on?” “I’m about to go watch the Stallions practice. I’m interviewing some of the players after, and I have an extra press badge.” The Stallions were Portland’s new professional football team. The city had been petitioning the powers that be for years, and eighteen months ago, they finally gave their formal approval. The Stallions were owned by Victor Montez, Oregon’s wealthiest citizen. Montez had spent his career building an empire of casinos. He’d moved to Portland after selling out to Montgomery Enterprises, an even larger chain of destination resorts. Rumor had it that he’s a hot head and incredibly difficult to work with. Sportscasters insisted he was exactly who you’d want in charge of a startup team. “You’re going to the stadium?” “Yes. Phillip was supposed to go, but his kid has the chickenpox. He’s never had it before, and the last thing he wants to do is walk into practice like Typhoid Mary. Bill threw it to me, said it was my chance to prove I could hold my own with the sports desk. I know it’s short notice, but I have an extra press pass and I thought Ben might like to tag along and fanboy out while I get my interviews.” “Aw, man, he would have loved that. But he’s working at the club today.” “Even better. You can come with me and we can gawk at the hot football players,” she suggested and I could almost hear her waggling her eyebrows. “I don’t know. It sounds like fun. But I had such a long week. I was really looking forward to doing nothing today.” “I promise you won’t have to do anything physically or mentally exerting,” she pleased. “It’s going to be a beautiful day. You don’t have to do anything but sit in the stands and soak up the sunshine.” “Okay,” I finally agreed. “Great. We’re supposed to be there at noon, so I’ll pick you up at eleven.” “I’ll see you then. Thanks for inviting me, Mel.” “No problem. I’ll see you soon.” I ended the call and let the phone fall to my bed. I shuffled to the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and then dove back between my sheets. I chased two Advil with the rest of my water and told myself I was just going to close my eyes until the throbbing stopped. I woke up three and a half hours later.
Shit, shit, shit. Melissa will be here in thirty minutes and I’m still in my pajamas. I threw open my closet door and grabbed my go-to boyfriend jeans and a blue and grey raglan t-shirt. I stuffed my feet into black Converse and trudged back to the bathroom to check my reflection. The extra hours of sleep hadn’t done anything to improve my bloodshot hangover eyes and my long hair hung limply around my tan face. Screw it. I’ll just throw on a hat and a pair of sunglasses. It’s not like I’ll run into anyone I know. But I’ve got to stop making a habit of leaving the house like this. I swiped a light layer of powder over my face and tied my hair into a ponytail at the nape of my neck. From there, I moved on to the kitchen, brewed myself a cup of coffee, and rifled through my fridge for something that would pass for breakfast. I settled on a yogurt, which I ate over my sink. My doorbell rang just as I set my second cup of coffee to brew. I opened the door and Melissa greeted me with a broad smile and a bag from the Eight Street Bakery. “Cinnamon chip scone,” she explained, thrusting the bag into my hand. “I thought you might need a pick me up. You sounded exhausted when I talked to you this morning. Please tell me you were able to get back to sleep. I felt like an ass for waking you.” I tossed the bag next to my purse on the coffee table and turned back toward the kitchen. “I just woke up about half an hour ago,” I explained. “Let me pour my coffee into a travel cup and I’ll be ready.” “We have a little time, if you want to finish your makeup.” I didn’t even get insulted at the hint. “I’m just going to throw on a hat and sunglasses. There’s no point in doing my face when everyone’s eyes will be stuck to you,” I insisted. “You really do look fabulous.” Melissa held a hand to her flawless chocolate complexion and smiled back at me. “Do you really think so? I finally had a reason to use my ‘on camera’ makeup my Mom gave me when I landed the job at the station. I was a little worried I’d gone overboard.” “I think you look perfect. After today, the viewers will be insisting that you cover the sports desk. You know as much, if not more, than the men and you look three times as good doing the commentary.” The motivation behind my comment was easing Melissa’s obvious nerves, but that didn’t make the words any less true. Melissa grew up in Portland as the only girl in a family of eight kids. She was also the baby and spent her childhood cheering her seven older brothers on from the sidelines of their various athletic events. Melissa paid attention and by the time she was twelve, she was offering her brothers’ coaches pointers during practices. And Melissa wasn’t just smart. She was also drop dead gorgeous. Her skin was smooth and clear, the color of coffee with just a hint of cream in it. She had dark, doe-like eyes, beautiful, perfectly straight teeth, and the kind of body most people could only achieve
with the help of a plastic surgeon: curvy and alluring, without an ounce of extra fat. “I’m ready when you are,” I announced, stepping back into the living room with my coffee. I tossed one of Ben’s club ball caps on my head and slung my purse over my shoulder. I held my coffee and scone in one hand and locked the front door with the other. “I can’t believe I’m finally getting some airtime,” Melissa said, her words brimming with anxiety. We buckled ourselves into her Subaru and she backed out of her parking space. “I’m so proud of you, Mel. I really think this will be your big break. Just try to relax and be yourself during the interviews. The rest will take care of itself.” “I hope you’re right,” she said, navigating through the city. “I need to think about something else. Distract me. What’s been going on with you?” “Same old, same old. I’ve settled back into my school routine. And I think most of my kids have gotten the swing of things. Aside from that, I’ve just been spending time with Ben and hanging out with Uncle Walt. He’s met a woman and retired, by the way.” Melissa’s eyes widened. “She must be one hell of a woman.” “I don’t know. I haven’t met her yet. We’re supposed to have dinner on Tuesday.” “Do you think he’ll finally get married?” “I don’t know. If you asked me last week, I’d have sworn he’d stay a bachelor his entire life. But now, I’m not so sure. I guess time will tell.” I stared out the windshield as the stadium appeared in the distance. “It really is an amazing building,” I observed. “I can’t believe we get to be some of the first people to see the team on the field. My brothers are going to shit when they find out about this.” “Ben too,” I agreed. “But I’m glad he’s working and I get to be here on your big day.” “Me too.” Melissa pulled into the stadium’s parking lot and eased into a spot near the front entrance. There were only a few dozen cars in the massive lot, and I knew most of them had to belong to the players. Melissa killed the ignition and pulled two press passes from her glove compartment. She passed me one of the stiff, laminated cards and I pulled the lanyard over my head. “Are you ready for this?” I asked, my voice enthusiastic and supportive. She took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m ready. My camera crew isn’t here yet, but they can meet up with us inside.” We climbed out of the car and made our way to the main entrance. We were greeted by an official looking man wearing a headset. He took one look at our passes and directed us to the press seating near the fifty-yard line. After finding our seats, Melissa and I spent the next hour watching the players scrimmage on the field. As I watched the game, I felt the strangest sense that I knew one
of the quarterbacks. That’s impossible. I’ve never met anyone capable of playing professional football. Last night’s wine is messing with my head. About fifteen minutes before the practice wound down, Melissa’s camera crew showed up and shot some footage of the team in action. I’d assumed the after practice interviews would take place on the field and was shocked when Melissa pulled me toward the locker room. “I can’t go in there,” I insisted. “There will be strange men showering, and changing, and God knows what.” “Oh come on, Emily. Don’t be such a prude. We’re all professionals and the players are expecting us. No one’s going to be naked.” She pulled me into the room before I had a chance to make any more objections. To my relief, all of the players were clothed from the waist down. Some still wore their pads and jerseys, but most were lounging around bare chested. The sight was distracting, to say the least. Larry Davis, the head coach of the Stallions, approached Melissa with a smile and an extended hand. I shuffled behind her cameraman and did my best to blend into the wall. “Thank you so much for having me, Mr. Davis. I was hoping to ask you a few questions, and then maybe interview a few members of the team,” she explained. He released her hand and gave her an indulgent grin. “Let me guess. You’d like to have the first local interview with our new star quarterback.” “I’d love to talk to everyone on the team,” Melissa assured him. “But, of course, if Mr. McAlister is willing, I’d love to speak with him too.” McAlister? Quarterback…? No. It can’t be. “I’m willing to speak with you,” a familiar voice boomed through the room and my face flushed hot as I fought the urge to look toward the voice. “Thank you so much,” Melissa answered, a note of gushing in her tone. “Don’t thank me yet,” Ethan warned. “I’ll talk to you now and I’ll throw in a sit down after our first home game… on the condition that I can have a few moments alone with Emily. Just to talk, of course.” This isn’t happening. It’s the wine. I’m home asleep in bed, and this is all just a terrible dream. I looked up from the locker room floor; every eye was on me. Melissa’s mouth had fallen open in shock while the rest of the team seemed amused by the exchange. I cleared my throat and finally met Ethan’s charming, apologetic gaze. “Where would you like to talk?” I asked him, forcing a smile that was brighter than I felt. “Why don’t we step back out to the stadium? Melissa can find us there when she’s wrapped up the other interviews,” he suggested.
I exhaled deeply. “Lead the way.” Melissa mouthed a quick thank you and turned back to the coach. Ethan walked past his teammates and led me back into the stadium. I was still recovering from my surprise at seeing him and was at a complete loss for words. He didn’t seem to mind the silence though. We sat down and stared at the field for a few moments before he finally spoke. “You said if we were supposed to meet again, we would,” he reminded me. “So what do you call this?” “I don’t know,” I hesitated. “I guess I’d call it a coincidence.” I wanted to believe that’s all it was, but I didn’t. I loved Ben, I reminded myself. At the same time, I felt the strangest pull toward Ethan. And when I looked at him, my heart soared with not only attraction but an odd sense of familiarity. The way it would after seeing someone I loved after a lifetime apart. I didn’t understand my feelings, and that terrified me. “I’d call it more than that,” he argued. “I think fate is trying to tell us something. You’re destined to give me a tour of this city, Emily Kinkaid,” he teased. We both knew he wanted a lot more than a tour, though for the life of me, I couldn’t understand why. I was sitting in front of him looking my absolute worst for the second time in a week. He was a professional athlete, surrounded by groupies and cheerleaders on a regular basis. Yet, he wanted me. “I still have a boyfriend,” I reminded him. “I still don’t care,” he insisted. “I’ve decided he’s not good enough for you.” I let out a quick laugh. “Oh yeah? And I assume you are?” He nodded. “Yes. And before you shoot me down, let me plead my case. First off, I am incredibly attentive. This boyfriend of yours seems to leave you on your own an awful lot.” “Maybe I’m an independent woman who likes her space,” I suggested. Ethan stared into my eyes, his face full of understanding. “I can tell you’re an independent woman. But I think that’s more out of necessity, not choice. You’ve spent a lot of time alone in your life, haven’t you?” I nodded, amazed by how well he seemed to know me. “How did you know?” “I’ve spent a lot of time alone, too. It’s a pretty common story. My parents divorced when I was eleven. Dad sent checks until I was eighteen, but he stopped showing up for his weekend visits when I was in junior high. Mom married a pompous ass who I still can’t stand, and I avoided them both as much as possible.” “That must have made for a lonely childhood.” He nodded. “But lonely was better than pissed off and bitter. So what’s your story? I shared mine.” “My uncle raised me. He was a pilot, so he was away a lot. And we moved almost constantly, which made it hard to make friends.”
Why am I telling him this? I don’t even know him. Ethan cleared his throat and stared out at the field. “I understand you’re involved with someone, Emily. I admire that you don’t want to do anything to disrespect that. But I feel the strangest connection with you. I hope you’ll consider being my friend, if nothing else.” “I think I can do that,” I agreed, knowing it was the last thing I should do. “As long as you understand that we’re just friends.” “I promise I won’t cross any lines.” He held up a pinky and waited until I hooked mine with his. I let it go quickly. So quickly, his smile widened. “We probably don’t have much time until Melissa’s ready for me. Do you have a pen and paper?” “I’m a teacher, remember?” I replied, digging through my purse. I pulled out a handful of pens, crayons, and highlighters, along with a small spiral notepad I used to jot down lists of classroom supplies and ideas for lesson plans. Ethan grabbed a black pen and took the notepad from my hand. “I’m writing down my cell number,” he explained. “A lot of people would pay a lot of money for this, so I’m trusting you here. And I’m putting the ball in your court, so to speak. Call or text whenever you need a friend.” He closed the notebook and passed it back to me. “I will,” I promised, opening the book again. I scribbled my number on a black page, my heart racing. I knew I was flirting with fire. I tried to convince myself I had nothing but good intentions, that Ethan and I would just be friends and Ben would be okay with it. But the longing growing within me said otherwise. “I don’t like sports metaphors,” I told him, ripping the page from the book. I passed him my number with a smile. “No balls, no courts. When you need a friend, you know how to reach me.” Ethan gave me a satisfied grin and tucked the paper in the waistband of his football pants. I was about to ask him where he’d lived before Portland but heard Melissa’s voice from behind. “Are you ready for me?” she sang. I turned and watched her descend the stadium steps, her cameraman trailing behind. Ethan and I both rose and I stepped onto the staircase. Melissa moved past me, to sit beside Ethan. The cameraman continued two rows down and angled his lens up at their faces. I slid into a seat across the aisle and listened to the interview with rapt attention. The handsome quarterback intrigued me, to say the least, and I wanted to learn as much about him as possible. “Congratulations on your contract with the Stallions,” Melissa began. “What message would you like to give your critics regarding their claims that nepotism played a role in your coming to Portland?” Nepotism? What is she talking about? I should really do a better job of keeping up with the local news. I was a few rows behind Ethan and couldn’t see his face. I imagined him flashing his
charming smile at the camera as he answered with ease. “I’d remind them that my record speaks for itself,” he replied. “I’ve spent my career busting through records. My salary here is well deserved and has nothing to do with the fact that Victor is my stepfather. It was a happy coincidence that my contract with Dallas ran out around the same time the commission granted Victor permission to form this fantastic team. I’m honored to be a part of it.” Victor Montez is his stepfather? Holy shit… that’s more than a little intimidating. Ethan must have had an eventful childhood. “You were sidelined by a fractured wrist last season. Are you back to a hundred percent?” Melissa continued. “Has the injury affected your snap?” “I’m better than ever,” he assured her. “You were in Dallas for six years. Was it difficult to leave your old team behind?” “I will always look back fondly on the time I spent in Texas. I made some great friends there. But nothing beats being home.” Melissa thanked him, paused for a few moments, then yelled “Cut” and rose to her feet. She passed her microphone to the cameraman and extended her hand to Ethan. “Thank you so much for sitting down with me.” “You’re welcome. I look forward to doing it again after our opening game. I’ll make sure your camera crew has prime placement that night. And I’ll have tickets at the fiftyyard line messengered over to your office. Unless, of course, you’d prefer to be in a box.” “Are you kidding me?” she asked, her voice overflowing with excitement. “I know a lot of people probably prefer the luxury aspect of the boxes, but I’m a girl who wants to be close to the action. Thank you so much, Mr. McAlister.” They shuffled out of the aisle and walked up the staircase side by side. I stood and awkwardly waited for them to reach me. “It’s my pleasure, I hope,” Ethan told her before flashing me another knee-weakening smile. “I do hope you’ll use the other ticket, Emily.” “I’ll have to check my schedule,” I replied, dropping my eyes to the ground. I felt Melissa’s inquisitive stare and knew I’d have a lot of explaining to do during the ride home. “I’ll make sure she’s there,” Melissa promised. Ethan nodded and perched on the back of one of the stadium seats. Melissa looped her arm through mine and we said a final goodbye before making our escape. When we finally reached the safety of her car, she turned to me with an open mouthed grin. “This has to be one hell of a story. Start from the beginning.”
*** “Hey Em, do you have a blank copy of the field trip permission slip? My laptop
crashed again and Bentley Norris emptied a tub of finger paint onto my hard copies.” I looked up from my phone to see Linda standing in the doorway of my classroom. Loose strands of hair fell from her braid and her eyes looked defeated and exhausted. “Long day?” I asked, shuffling through a stack of papers on my desk. I found a blank permission slip and held it out to her. “Long doesn’t even begin to describe it,” she said with a long-suffering sigh. She crossed the room, took the paper from me, and perched on top of a nearby desk. “Last night—” My phone chimed while she spoke, immediately drawing my attention. I read Ethan’s latest message and felt a tell-tale blush spread across my cheeks. “I’m assuming that’s not your boyfriend,” Linda said with a teasing tone. I slid my phone into my lap and looked up at her amused face. “No, it was a message from Ethan. But it’s nothing, I swear. He’s really funny, but we’re just friends.” She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Does Ben know about your new friend?” I hesitated. Ben knew I’d gone to the Stallions’ practice with Melissa, and I mentioned meeting a few of the players. I hadn’t given him any more details and after cursing his luck for not being able to join Melissa himself, he hadn’t mentioned it again. “I take that as a no,” Linda announced. I could tell by her tone that she disapproved. “I hope you know what you’re doing. I’ve never been a fan of you and Ben together. But for your own sake, you shouldn’t start a new relationship until you’ve ended the old one.” She dropped her voice as she offered the next warning. “It’s bad karma, Emily.” “Ethan and I don’t have a relationship,” I argued. She folded her arms across her chest and stared back at me. “You’ve been glued to your phone for the past two weeks. If that’s not a relationship, what would you call it?” I felt my face flush hot again and diverted my eyes to my desk. I mindlessly shuffled paperwork and tried to come up with an excuse for myself. “Fine, maybe I’ve gotten a little carried away,” I relented. “I’ve flirted a little. But it’s still completely innocent.” I swallowed hard. “I love Ben. We have a future together. The attention from Ethan is exciting and flattering, but it will pass. He’s a celebrity, for Christ’s sake. It’s only a matter of time before he hooks up with a cheerleader or a pop star and forgets all about me.” “So you’re just enjoying the attention while it lasts?” she pressed. I could tell she still didn’t believe me. “That’s the plan,” I agreed. That wasn’t entirely true. My rational mind understood that the flirty back and forth banter between Ethan and me was temporary. But my heart was starting to get attached to his entertaining, often thoughtful messages. “All right,” Linda said. She let out another long sigh and rose to her feet. “Just be
careful, Emily. You’re walking a thin line with this. I don’t think you and Ben belong together. But if you’re sure that’s what you want, you need to cut things off with the quarterback and delete all of his messages. Think of how Ben would feel if he found out about this.” A heavy weight of anxiety gripped my heart. I knew she was right, and I felt terrible for keeping such an enormous secret from Ben… just not terrible enough to stop. “I’m just trying to look out for you, Em,” she called over her shoulder. “I know,” I called back as she stepped through the door. I pulled out my phone again and reread Ethan’s message. Eating at the diner tonight. Care to join me? I fired off a quick message turning down his offer and then turned my phone off completely. Linda’s right. I need to put a stop to this. Flirting with Ethan has been fun, but there’s no future there. I want someone who’s happy with a quiet life, someone who comes home every night. Ben can give that to me. He’ll always be there when I need him. I slid my phone into my purse, gathered the rest of my things, and set off for the parking lot. I needed to assuage my guilt and decided that surprising Ben with his favorite meal was a great place to start. I drove home, took a quick shower, and spent an hour curling my hair the way Ben liked it. I slipped into my sexiest pair of skinny jeans, pulled on a deep V-neck t-shirt, and brushed on a light layer of makeup before leaving for the market. Ben was working at the Boys’ Club until seven; I knew he would be tired and wanted everything to be perfect for him when he got home. I hurried through the market, gathering fresh produce, thick cut ribeye steaks, and two different types of red wine. As a last minute impulse, I tossed an already made cheesecake into the cart and proceeded to the register. A few minutes and forty dollars later, I loaded my bags into the back of my car and made my way to Ben’s place. Ben lived in a large, generic looking apartment complex close to The Day School. With first-come, first-served parking, I was rarely able to park anywhere close. But that night, I got lucky and found an empty spot just steps away from his front door. I found my key to the apartment on my ring, loaded my arms with grocery bags, and decided to make a second trip to carry in the wine. I unlocked the front door, flipped on the lights, and continued on to Ben’s small galley kitchen. I set the bags down on the countertop and heard a soft, muffled noise from the bedroom. What the hell? He was supposed to be at practice until seven. I hope he isn’t sick. “Baby?” I called out, padding down the hallway. I heard a loud thud, followed by silence. What the fuck?
I took hold of the doorknob, but it refused to turn. A blend of confusion, fear, and rage grew in my chest and I pounded on the door. “Ben, are you okay? Why is the door locked? Are you—” The door opened and my worst fears were realized. Ben stood before me wearing nothing but a guilty scowl. My eyes moved from him to the redhead, half covered by the blankets. She looked at me with an evil, triumphant grin and leaned back on a pillow. “Emily, I’m so sorry. This isn’t how I wanted you to find out,” he stammered. “So you did plan for me to find out,” I countered, my voice flat. I was in too much shock to feel anything and reached for the wall for support. “No… I mean, yes. I mean… I think we’ve both known this was coming. We fit on paper, Em. But the spark just isn’t there.” “How long has this been going on?” I pressed, the weight of the moment starting to sink in. Tears stung my eyes and I bit the corner of my mouth, determined to hold myself together to whatever degree possible. “Ben and I—” “I didn’t ask you,” I snapped, turning back to the redhead. I gritted my teeth when she smirked again, lifting her nose into the air. I spun on my heel and stormed back to the kitchen. I started pulling things out of the grocery bags and slamming them on the counter. Ben appeared a few moments later wearing a pair of boxers. He seemed alarmed by my quick, violent movements and stayed a few feet away from me. “What are you doing?” he asked, his tone cautious. “I thought it would be nice to have dinner together,” I explained, slamming a jar of artichoke hearts onto the counter. “But as I no longer have an appetite, I thought I’d just leave this here for you and your whore.” “Emily, I’m so sorry. I know you’re upset. But Becky isn’t a—” “Don’t you dare defend her,” I growled. “Don’t defend yourself either. My uncle was right about you. You’re nothing but a lying, cheating bastard. I recognize your precious Becky. It’s bad enough that you’re having an affair. But did you really have to screw one of the football moms? Does her husband know what the two of you have been up to?” “Becky and Sean separated eight months ago. Their divorce is supposed to be finalized next week. I know you’re hurt, Emily. As hard as it may be to believe, that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do. If I knew you were planning to surprise me tonight—” I turned to him, my hands on my hips. Rage was winning out over all of my other emotions, and it took every ounce of strength I had not to knee Ben in the balls. “What?” I spat. “If you’d known I was coming, you would have screwed your MILF somewhere else?” He sighed and looked down to the worn tile floor. “I… I… I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.” I couldn’t be in the apartment another minute. I slung my purse over my shoulder and
pushed past Ben, storming toward the front door. “You don’t have to say anything. In fact, if I never hear your voice again, I’ll die happy.” I paused long enough to pull his key off my ring, tossed it over my shoulder, and slammed the door behind me. I dove into my car and peeled out of the parking lot, trying to outrace my heartache. I failed and pulled over at a home goods store. Killing the engine, I let my tears overtake me. I mourned the loss of the future I’d planned so carefully and tried to figure out where everything had gone wrong. How long had Ben been sleeping with Becky? Was she the first, or just the latest in a string of his conquests? I knew I was probably better off not learning the answers. I cried until my eyes ran dry, then spent another few minutes composing myself. I didn’t know what to do or where to turn. I knew Uncle Walt would be sympathetic, but I wasn’t up for listening to him rail against Ben. I also couldn’t bear the thought of his inevitable “I told you so” expression. I eyed the two bottles of wine in my passenger seat and decided the occasion definitely called for some drinking. I pulled out of the lot and turned toward home. Somehow, I ended up at the diner instead.
CHAPTER THREE
Ethan’s eyes lit up when I pushed through the diner door. His excitement immediately turned to concern and I realized I must have looked like an absolute mess. He jumped off his stool and rushed over to greet me. “Emily, I wasn’t expecting you. Are you okay?” he asked, draping an arm over my shoulder. He led me to the counter and I sank down on the stool beside him with a nod. “Yes… no. I don’t know,” I replied, propping my elbows on the cool linoleum. He signaled the waitress, who appeared with a steaming mug of coffee. “Would you like something to eat, darlin’?” she asked. I shook my head and wrapped my hands around the warm, comforting mug. “No, thank you.” She gave me a sympathetic nod and cleared Ethan’s empty plates. He took a sip of his water and turned to me, his eyes searching mine for some sign of what happened. “You’re obviously upset,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I assume you came to find me because you need a friend?” I gave him a wordless nod. “Do you want to talk here? Or would you like to go somewhere more private?” “Private,” I answered without thinking. He pulled out his wallet, dropped a twenty on the counter, and rose to his feet, offering me his arm. I took it and a strange, comforting warmth spread through my body. When I’d arrived at the diner, I felt like my life was over. But when Ethan touched me, I knew everything was going to be okay. We stepped out into the parking lot and Ethan paused. “My place or yours?” he asked. “Or if you’re not comfortable with either of those, I have a master key to the stadium.” “Your place is good.” I wasn’t ready to be at my apartment, surrounded by things that reminded me of Ben. And I really didn’t feel like running into anyone at the stadium. “No offense, but you don’t seem like you’re in any shape to drive. I don’t want you to feel stuck at my place. How about I drive your car now and you can take me back to mine later, when you feel better?” “That works for me,” I agreed, handing over my keys. He opened my door and I unlocked his as he circled the car. He slid the driver’s seat all the way back before wiggling in behind the steering wheel. He drove in silence for a few minutes before placing a gentle hand on my knee. “Is it safe to assume you’re no longer taken?” he asked.
“Is it that obvious?” I countered with a sad snort. “No,” he assured me. “You still look beautiful. Distracted, maybe. But I doubt anyone at the diner noticed. Do you want to tell me what happened?” I lifted one of the wine bottles I’d moved to the floorboard. “Not until I have a little of this in me.” “I understand.” He navigated through Irvington, pulling up to a large iron gate only blocks away from my apartment. He punched a few keys on the code box and the gate swung inward. “You have a beautiful house,” I observed, staring at the Tudor mansion in front of us. “Thank you. You’ll have to excuse the décor. I just moved in a few months ago and I’ve been too busy to really put my mark on the place.” “I promise I won’t judge,” I assured him. He pulled up to the large, solid wood door and killed the engine. He passed me my keys and took the wine before climbing out of the car. I smiled as he moved the seat back into position for me before shutting the door. How thoughtful… I followed him into the house and immediately understood why he’d warned me about the interior. While the outside of the home looked straight out of Medieval England, the inside looked like it had been abandoned sometime in the nineteen seventies. Velvet wallpaper in various shades of gold and green adorned the walls, continuing from the foyer into the living room. Ethan’s modern leather furniture looked out of place in the space, but the house had tons of potential. “I have a crew coming next week to do something about these walls,” he explained, wrinkling his nose at them. He led me to the large French doors on the far side of the room, which opened to an expansive backyard. The covered veranda ran the length of the Olympic-sized swimming pool in front of it. “This is beautiful. How much space do you have?” “About an acre, total,” he replied, setting the wine down on a teak patio table. He stepped behind the outdoor bar and returned with two glasses and a corkscrew. He opened the first bottle, filled the glasses, and settled into the chair beside me. I finished my wine in one long gulp and waited patiently while he poured my second round. “That bad, huh?” he asked. I nodded and stared out at the gleaming pool. “I went to Ben’s apartment. We haven’t had much time together since school started and I thought it would be nice to surprise him with his favorite dinner. Instead, the surprise was on me.” I took another sip of my wine while Ethan let out a low whistle. “You caught him in the act?” I nodded. “Yep. I’ve been beating myself up for weeks for not telling him about our
friendship. And all the while, he’s been screwing a cougar divorcee.” Ethan was quiet for a moment and then cleared his throat. “You seem to be handling it okay. I mean you’re obviously upset. But you don’t seem… broken.” “I don’t break,” I replied, my voice flat. “Is that so?” he pressed. “I bawled my eyes out for about half an hour after. I’m pissed. I’m devastated, actually. I honestly thought Ben and I were forever. I thought he was the predictable, stable man I’d always dreamed of finding. Obviously, I was wrong.” Ethan studied me for a moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was low. “I understand why you crave stability. Everyone does. But why in the world would a fascinating, spirited woman such as yourself seek out predictability?” I let out an amused huff and reached for my wine. “I’m not sure I’d use those words to describe me.” Ethan took my hand and met my eyes, his gaze deep and serious. “Emily, I understand what I’m about to say may come across as strange. But when I look at you, I feel like I’m staring straight into your soul. I can see the passion, the fire behind your eyes. I can tell you’re strong and determined, that you’ve overcome unimaginable pain and come out better on the other side. What I don’t understand is why you’re so determined to settle for less than you deserve.” I stared back at him, utterly speechless. I didn’t find Ethan’s words strange at all. I knew exactly what he was talking about because I felt the same way when I looked at him. There was an exciting, familiar quality to the way he looked at me and with each moment that passed, I felt drawn further and further in. Coming here was a mistake. I’m too emotional to think clearly. This is all way too much, way too soon. Pulse racing, I gripped the arms of my chair and started to rise. Ethan slid his chair a few feet away from me and held up his hands. “I’m sorry. Like I said, I know it sounds strange. And I know this isn’t the time to talk about my feelings. Please don’t leave, Emily. You came to the diner tonight because you needed a friend. Let me be that for you.” I relaxed back into my chair and reached for my wine. “I shouldn’t be driving, anyway.” “Exactly,” he agreed. “Just try to relax. We can talk about whatever you’d like. And if you want to kill both of these bottles, you’re more than welcome to crash in one of the spare rooms.” Damn it, he’s right. If I don’t stop drinking now, I’ll never be able to get myself home. Fuck it. My relationship just imploded. I deserve some alcohol. “I have assembly duty at seven-thirty in the morning. If I crash here, you’ll have to get up super early for me to take you back to your car,” I warned.
“I’m fine with that,” he told me with a grin. He topped off my glass and I stared down silently at the wine. It had just dawned on me that I had a little over twelve hours before I had to face Ben again. I wasn’t looking forward to the reunion. “Penny for your thoughts?” Ethan pressed, his voice lower, more sympathetic. I crinkled my nose, frowned, and met his eyes. “I was thinking about getting a substitute for tomorrow,” I confessed. “You’re not ready to see him?” I shook my head. “Part of me feels like a coward. Sub days are hard on everyone and it’s completely unprofessional to let my personal life affect my students. But at the same time, when I think of seeing Ben…” “Emily, if you think you’ll break down when you see Ben, it’s in everyone’s best interest for you to stay home,” he insisted. Ethan held my gaze, his patient face wrinkled with concern. I gave him a guilty, devilish grin and admitted the real reason I didn’t want to see Ben. “I’m not worried about breaking down in tears. I’m afraid I’ll go into a blind rage and beat the shit out of him in front of everyone.” Ethan’s face relaxed and he let out an amused laugh. “Well, that settles it. You’re definitely taking a sick day tomorrow. Why don’t you call and make the arrangements while I go scare up something from the kitchen? If you’re going to keep drinking, I insist that you eat something.” “Deal,” I agreed, completely unfazed by the fact that he was basically bossing me around. It felt good to be taken care of for once. I fetched my phone from my purse, propped my feet up on the opposite chair, and hit Linda’s speed dial. “Hey, Em. What’s up?” “I’ve had a terrible night, Linda,” I confessed. “When you left my room this afternoon, I started to feel guilty about hiding Ethan from Ben. I decided to surprise him with dinner at his place. He was supposed to be at the club until seven. But when I got to the apartment, he was in bed with Becky Childers.” “That rat bastard,”’ Linda gasped, then growled. “Say no more. I’ll line up your sub and go over the lesson plans with her in the morning. Just let me know what you want me to tell everyone. I assume you’re not officially calling in heartbroken?” “No, officially I’m sick. I’m sure the truth will get around soon enough, but I don’t want to be the one who lets this cat out of the bag. I’m going to email Principal Matthews and tell him I’m coming down with the stomach flu. With the number of sick kids we’ve had this week, he won’t think twice about it.” “Got it. That’ll be my story if anyone asks. Though I have a few other words in mind for Ben. I’m so sorry, Emily. Are you okay? If you need to talk, you’re more than welcome to come hang out with Henry and me.” “That’s okay. I have someone to talk to,” I said with a hint of mischief in my voice.
“Emily… where are you?” The tone of her voice told me she already had a pretty good idea. “I’m at Ethan’s.” “Well, good for you,” she said, surprising me. “Enjoy yourself. I expect a full report as soon as I get home from school tomorrow. Periodic text updates between now and then would be much appreciated,” she teased. “We’re just talking. I’ve only been single for a few hours,” I reminded her. “Sure, if you say so.” “Ha, ha. I need to let you go. I still need to shoot an email to Matthews and Ethan will be back any second with my dinner.” “Try to enjoy yourself tonight, Em. You deserve it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” “Bye.” I ended the call and typed a short email to the principal. I told him my stomach didn’t feel well, which technically wasn’t a lie, and assured him that Linda was handling all of the arrangements. Ethan stepped outside with an enormous platter of barbecue just as I was returning my phone to my purse. “Everything settled?” He sat the platter on the table and moved behind the bar to fetch a roll of paper towels. “Yes. Linda, the other kindergarten teacher, is handling everything for me.” “Did you tell her what’s really going on?” I nodded and reached for a sauce-drenched rib. “She would have found out eventually. But she won’t run her mouth to the rest of the school.” I picked it up by the bone and the meat fell back to the plate. Ethan picked up a dripping handful, tossed it into his mouth, then passed me a paper towel before tearing one off for himself. “Do you want to keep talking about it?” he continued after chasing his bite with a gulp of wine. I shook my head. “I’d like to talk about anything but, actually.” “I’m glad to hear you say that,” he replied with a grin, sending my heart into another happy race. “I’m interested in so much more than your relationship with your ex,” he continued. “I want to know everything there is to know about you. What inspired you to go into teaching?” I reached for my wine and Ethan shook his head, his eyes darting to the ribs. “You’ve got to get something in your stomach, Emily. Trust me, you’ll feel much better tomorrow if you eat something.” There was no point in arguing. I knew he was right. I took a bite of smoky, tangy meat, and then answered Ethan’s question as I stripped three more bones.
“When I started high school, a guidance counselor explained that I’d need extracurricular activities for my college applications. We were never in one place long enough for me to join any teams or clubs. But every school I went to had a shortage of tutors. I’d always done really well in school, and the job was a natural fit.” I ate another bite of the ribs and wiped my hands on the paper towel. “These are delicious. This is quite the meal for something you scared up in the kitchen.” “You lucked out.” He licked sauce from his thumb and my stomach twisted. “I forgot these were in the fridge. So you became a teacher because you enjoyed tutoring so much? Somehow, I feel like there’s more to it than that.” I swallowed another mouthful and tore off another paper towel to wipe my mouth. “You got me,” I agreed with a sigh. “Growing up with my uncle was exciting and, for the most part, I loved my childhood. But it made me tired, Ethan. Tired of uprooting, tired of being alone. The school gives me a foundation, somewhere I can belong. And I get to contribute to the foundations of a bunch of precious tiny people,” I added with a genuine smile. “So you’re a homebody? You don’t like to travel?” he pressed, his eyebrows drawing together in concern. “I don’t like to travel. See, that’s all the more reason we should just be friends,” I teased. I dropped another bite of barbecue into my mouth and awkwardly swallowed while he studied me. I decided to change the subject. “So what made you decide to play football? I don’t mean to be indelicate, but do you really even have to work?” Ethan frowned. “You mean couldn’t I just live off of my stepfather’s money?” “I know that sounds tacky,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat again. “But yeah, I guess that’s what I mean.” “Don’t worry. I get that a lot,” he confided. “I could live off of Victor’s money if I wanted to. He certainly has enough of it. But what kind of man would that make me? I’m good at what I do, Emily. I’m good at everything I do. If I didn’t play football, if I didn’t take advantage of my talents, everything I am would be wasted. Does that make any sense?” I nodded and tried to stifle a yawn. The wine and the emotions of the day were catching up with me and my eyelids grew heavy. Ethan noticed. “You’re exhausted.” He gathered the discarded paper towels and tossed them into the bar side trash can. My heart thumped when he reached for my hand. “Come on. I’ll get you some sweats and show you to the guest room.” Ethan led me through the house, stopping at the room at the end of the west wing. He pushed open the door but stayed in the hallway.
“If you feel like washing up, the guest suite has its own bath. My room is right here,” he added. He took a few steps backward and opened a door on the opposite wall. “My sweats will probably swallow you, but they’ll be more comfortable than your jeans.” I followed him into the room and perched on the foot of his bed. As I’d expected, Ethan’s room was meticulously organized. He opened a dresser drawer and retrieved a tshirt and a pair of sweatpants that had been cut off at the knees. “These are just ratty old practice pants,” he explained. “But they won’t drag on the ground.” “Works for me.” I took the clothes from his hands, resisting the urge to hold them to my chest. Half of me wanted to pull him down beside me on the bed. The other half knew that was the last thing I should be thinking about. I decided to play it safe and rose to my feet. “I’m glad you found me tonight, Emily,” Ethan offered as I walked toward the door. I paused and looked over my shoulder. “I’m glad I did too, Ethan. Thanks for listening to me.” “Anytime.”
*** Ethan tucked me into his guest bed and I spent the next hour trying to get to sleep. My body was exhausted, but my mind was racing. Ben’s betrayal stung, but it wasn’t what was keeping me awake. My proximity to Ethan was what had me reeling and I fought the urge to leave my bed for his. I can’t jump from one man to another. Ethan’s charming, and he really does seem to be interested in me. But I don’t know him yet. And I can’t kick off my newly single status with a one-night stand… can I? I tossed beneath the blankets, trying to get comfortable enough to drift off to sleep. But my mind kept returning to the last night I’d tried to be intimate with Ben. It dawned on me that I didn’t actually remember the last time I’d had sex. Okay, so I’m horny. But Ethan isn’t the man to scratch that itch with. If I jump into bed with him too soon, he’ll never respect me. I’ll ruin any chance of having a real relationship with him. That thought made me pause. Do I want a real relationship with him? I don’t even know right now. Which is precisely why I need to stay put. He’s probably asleep by now, anyway. About that time, I heard Ethan’s bedroom door creak open. I held my breath, hoping he was on his way to me. But after a few long, tense seconds, I realized that was just wishful thinking. A few minutes later, I heard his door close again. Screw it. If I stay here, I’m going to be up all night fantasizing about what might have happened. I’ll go cuddle with him and see what happens from there.
My heart in my throat, I kicked off the blankets and padded barefoot across the thick shag carpet. I reached Ethan’s door and knocked softly on the thick wood. “Come in,” he called out, his voice muffled through the wall. I pushed the door open and slipped into the room. I lingered just inside, suddenly nervous that Ethan didn’t want my company. He pushed himself up against the headboard and flipped on his bedside lamp. His bare, well-defined chest drew my eyes and made it difficult for me to talk. “Can’t sleep?” he asked, his voice sympathetic and understanding. I shook my head. “No. I’m sorry, I don’t know what I’m doing here.” “It’s okay, Emily,” he assured me. He pulled down the blankets beside him and patted the mattress. “If you’re not in the mood to be alone, you’re welcome to sleep in here with me. I promise I’ll be a gentleman.” “Thanks,” I replied, unsure if I was happy or upset with his promise but climbed into the bed and snuggled under the blankets. Ethan left the lamp on and curled his body around mine. “Is this okay?” he whispered, his mouth just inches from my neck. “This is perfect.” And it was. We laid in silence for a few minutes as I listened to the steady in and out of Ethan’s breathing. It slowed, becoming deeper and I knew he was ready for sleep. I was anything but. I raised a hand to the arm he had draped over me and started tracing light, teasing circles on his smooth skin. Ethan let out a soft, happy moan and moved into my touch. I turned in his arms and gave him a bold, hard kiss on the mouth. He flinched in surprise, but then kissed me back. He pushed one hand beneath my t-shirt and gripped my side roughly before stopping himself and rolling away. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I know you’re not ready. I got a little carried away.” I rolled closer to him and kissed his shoulder. “I think I started this,” I told him, kissing a trail to his neck. “Oh, Emily,” he groaned as my lips found his earlobe. His tone fluctuated between passion and frustration, and he stopped me just as I was about to climb into his lap. “Please don’t take this the wrong way,” he pleaded. “I want you. Of course I want you. But I want all of you. And right now, you’re emotional… and a little drunk.” “I’m not at all drunk,” I corrected him with a pout. “I’m sorry. I thought you wanted this as much as I do. I’ll go back to the other room.” Ethan grabbed me and pulled me back into his arms. “I don’t want you to go anywhere,” he confessed. “And believe me, I wish I could rip your clothes off right now. But I’m just not sure this is the right time. Like I said, I want all of you. When we make love… and we will, Emily, I want it to be about you and me, nothing more. And right now,
I know what happened with Ben is motivating most of your decisions.” “You’re wrong,” I argued. “I mean, Ben’s popped into my head a few times. But not in a ‘I wish I had him’ or a ‘I want to get back at him’ way. My only thought about Ben is that I should have left him months ago. If I had, I would have been free to give you my number that first night we met. I wanted to, you know.” I laid my head on Ethan’s shoulder and he stroked my back. “You did?” His tone was one of happy disbelief. I nodded against his chest. “I did. I resented the fact that I had a boyfriend, that I wasn’t free to be with you. But I’m here now.” I kissed Ethan’s neck and he turned his face, his mouth finding mine. His hands slid up and down my body, caressing me as our tongues danced together. Desire ignited, burning between my legs and I needed to be closer. As I climbed on top of him, he gripped me roughly by the hips and pulled his face away from mine, staring up at me with lust and infatuation. “You’re here now,” he agreed. “And I want you, Emily. I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you. But if we’re going to do this, I need to know you’re in it for the long haul. I’m not looking for casual sex, Em. Not with you. So if you need more time, I understand. I can be patient.” I held his face in my hands and clenched my legs around his waist. “You’re not the only one who’s wanted this since the night we met. I’ve never felt like this before. And I’m more than ready to figure out what it means.” Ethan gave me a devilish smile and flipped me onto my back, hovering above me with his weight on his hands. “I’m going to make you feel better than you’ve ever felt in your life,” he promised. I smiled back at him and raised my arms over my head. He pulled off the t-shirt, taking in the sight of me before diving for my breasts. He teased one nipple between his fingers, the other between his lips, and I felt myself gush wet with anticipation. I pushed the baggy sweatpants to my thighs, kicking them the rest of the way off as Ethan slid his lips up my neck. He nibbled my earlobe and pushed one hand under my black lace panties. “Oh God,” I cried out as he pushed a single finger inside me. “You’re so wet,” he said into my ear. I was too overwhelmed with pleasure to respond with anything more than a groan. I wrapped an arm around Ethan’s neck, anchoring myself to him as I writhed beneath his touch. He pulled free of my grasp, lowering his head to replace his fingers with his tongue. “Oh… Ethan,” I gasped. “Just give over to it,” he whispered, his hot breath tickling my clit. “Just enjoy what you’re feeling.” He buried his tongue in me again and I let my eyes fall shut. With each movement of his tongue, Ethan pushed me closer to the edge until I finally spasmed with release. He
lapped my juices as I came down from my orgasm, gentling me before moving up my body and reaching to retrieve a condom from the bedside table. “Not so fast,” I insisted. I sat up and pushed Ethan onto his back, his head pointing at the footboard. I straddled his legs and reached for the bulge beneath his shorts. He relaxed against the mattress and let out a soft moan as I stroked him through the silky fabric. “Does that feel good?” I asked, tightening my hand around his cock. Ethan let out a sharp gasp and nodded. I slipped my free hand up the leg of his shorts, surprising him with my bare touch. “What about that?” I teased. Ethan nodded again and I released him just long enough to tug the shorts down his legs. His long, thick cock stood at perfect attention, begging to be touched. My God, he’s gigantic. This is going to be fun. I gripped the base of his shaft with one hand and lowered my lips to the head, never breaking eye contact with Ethan. He gathered my hair in one hand, holding it out of his view as I licked up his shaft, then took most of him in my mouth. When I cupped his balls, he groaned but pushed me away. “I don’t want to come yet,” he explained, his voice coming out in broken heaves. “Oh God, Emily, you’re so amazing.” He palmed the back of my head with one hand and pulled my lips to his once more. He rolled me onto my back and used his tongue to blaze a trail from my chin to my clit. He licked me twice with long, firm strokes, before turning his attention back to the nightstand. He pulled a condom from the top drawer, opened it with his teeth, and stroked my wet, waiting tunnel with one hand while he rolled the condom down his shaft with the other. “I want you, Ethan,” I moaned beneath him. He moved in front of me with his weight on his knees and took me roughly by the hips, lifting my ass off the bed. “I’m yours,” he said, thrusting into me with one long, swift motion. He held still, waiting for me to stretch and adjust to his girth. “Are you okay?” he whispered, slowly rotating his hips. “I’m perfect.” I couldn’t say anything more; the words simply wouldn’t come. I folded my legs around Ethan’s body and rocked my hips up and down while his moved back and forth. His cock stirred within me, churning my passion to new heights. I moved quicker, more forcefully, and reached for Ethan’s neck. I pulled him downward and he let my legs drop to the mattress as he shifted his weight to his arms and drove into me harder. “You feel so amazing,” he whispered into my ear. I sucked his lobe and ran my long nails lightly down his back. I was overcome with desperate, animalistic desire. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt before and I turned myself over to it, lost in the passion of the moment.
“Oh… God,” Ethan moaned again. “Yeah?” I tightened my pussy around him and every throb of his cock sent waves of pleasure through my body. I dug my nails into his back and met him thrust for thrust. “I’m going to come,” he warned through gasping breaths. “Come with me, baby,” I cried out, already in the throes of my release. Ethan rose to his knees again, pulling my hips into his body as he thrust forward. I felt myself gush around his cock and he let out one final gasp as his cock trembled and exploded inside me. Ethan immediately pulled out, gripping the condom and then pulling it off and tossing it into the wastebasket by the nightstand. He took me in his arms and pulled me to the pillows. We snuggled in together, holding each other and reveling in the moment. “That was amazing,” I told him, a happy sigh lingering on my lips. “Amazing doesn’t cover it,” he corrected me. He planted a soft kiss on my neck. “This is just the beginning, Emily,” he promised.
*** I woke up early the next morning to the sound of Ethan’s blaring clock radio. I slapped the top of it until my hand found the snooze button and instinctively rolled to his side of the bed. The sheets were empty and cold. I sat up and found a note, a bathrobe, and a single long-stemmed red rose on the foot of the mattress. In my home gym, fourth door on the right down the east hallway. Breakfast is waiting on the veranda. Join me when you’re finished. I kicked off the blankets, pulled on my robe, and padded barefoot down the hallway. The house looked even worse with sunlight trickling through the windows and reflecting off the gaudy walls. But I understood why Ethan bought it. The original moldings and architecture were stunning and I couldn’t wait to see how Ethan restored it. I found the veranda, where I was reminded Ethan was a health conscious athlete. I found chia seed pudding, fresh fruit, and a coffee decanter waiting on the table. I ate the pudding in four huge spoonful’s, tossed a slice of mango in my mouth, and carried my coffee toward the gym. I found Ethan running on a treadmill. He wore earbuds and was wrapped up in a roundtable discussion on the finance channel. I didn’t want to startle him, so I leaned against the wall and watched him work out. His body was so firm and defined that every muscle looked like it had been hand chiseled from marble. His bare skin glistened with sweat and my mind flashed back to the night before. When Ethan realized I was there, he slowed to a stop. He toweled off as he crossed the room. “Good morning,” he greeted me with a kiss on my forehead. “Did you sleep well?” He stayed a safe distance away from me, careful not to cover me in his sweat. “I slept great. I was a little surprised to wake up alone. What time do you start working
out?” “I usually sleep a little later, but I wanted to have a few hours to spend with you before I have to go to practice. I scheduled a couples’ massage at nine, and then we’re meeting with my decorator.” Hold on… couples’ massage? Decorator? “That sounds great,” I replied slowly. Ethan could tell my enthusiasm was forced. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Sweetheart? “Nothing’s wrong.” I looked around the room, searching for words. “It’s just… well, isn’t it a little early for us to be getting couples’ massages and meeting with decorators? You have a lot of eyes on you right now.” “You didn’t know who I was,” he reminded me with a grin. “It’s one of the reasons I found you so irresistible.” I rolled my eyes. He was never going to let me live that down. “Yes, I was pretty much the last person in Portland to know who you are. But you’ve gotten a lot of press just this week. Don’t get me wrong, the massage sounds fantastic and I’d love to tag along to your decorator. I’m just afraid we’ll end up with our pictures in the paper and people will get the wrong idea.” Ethan shoulder’s tensed and he moved his hands to his hips. “Maybe I’m the one who has the wrong idea. You don’t want anyone to know you’re my girlfriend?” I stared at him, my mouth refusing to work for a moment. “I… I didn’t know I was your girlfriend.” He plopped down onto a weight bench and rested his elbows on his knees. “I’m sorry, Ethan. For the past year, I was someone else’s girlfriend.” “So last night meant nothing to you?” The words came out very much like a pout. “Of course it meant something to me.” I felt the panic coming out in my voice. This wasn’t coming out right at all. “But this is all happening so fast. I need time to process it. We need to slow down and—” “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who crawled into my bed last night,” he interrupted. I crossed the room and sank down to my knees in front of him, forcing him to look at me. “I know I did. Last night was one of the most incredible nights of my life. I just need a little time to figure out what this means.” Ethan slid off of the bench and pushed past me on his way to the door. I struggled to my feet and followed him to the dated living room. He paced the shag carpet and I could tell he was considering his words carefully. “Look, Emily,” he finally announced. “I know that our timing could be better. But I also know how I feel. I want you. You’ve invaded my thoughts since that first night we met at the diner. I’m not an ‘ease into the shallow end’ type of man. I’m a ‘dive in, head first, all or nothing’ type of man. I’ve followed my instincts my entire life and they haven’t
failed me yet. And my instincts tell me you’re the one for me. I want to take you out, spoil you, and shout from the rooftops that you’re my girl. If and when you’re ready for that, you know how to find me.” He opened the front door and gestured for me to leave as if I’d even think about climbing behind the wheel of my car in nothing but his bathrobe. I put my hands on my hips and remained rooted in place, infuriated by his audacity. “I’ll leave,” I assured him. “But not until I’ve had my say. Last night meant everything to me. And I feel the exact same way as you. Whatever this connection is between us, it’s strong. I understand that you’re not a patient guy and you’re probably used to getting your way. And if what I’ve read online is true, you’ve been too focused on football to ever have a real relationship.” He opened his mouth to speak, but I held up my hand, giving him my best kindergarten ‘don’t you dare’ stare. It closed immediately and I went on. “I get that you may not understand how this works. But you don’t get to dictate how I feel and when I feel it. You have to let me get comfortable on my own. If and when you’re ready to do that, you know how to find me. You may as well shut that door and get back to your workout. I’ll see myself out after I change.” I turned and stormed off to the bedroom without waiting for his reply. I hoped he’d be waiting to apologize when I returned to the living room. But all that greeted me was the still open door.
CHAPTER FOUR
“I still can’t believe you stormed out of his house and left him stranded,” Melissa said with an amused snort. “Serves the bastard right. I love football, but the players are all the same. And quarterbacks are the worst. They can be cocky motherfuckers, always thinking they should call the shots.” “Ethan wasn’t particularly cocky… just demanding,” I corrected her. I dunked a tortilla chip into a bowl of salsa and bit it in half. It was Saturday afternoon and Melissa and I were eating at our favorite hole-in-thewall Mexican restaurant. We’d arrived just as the lunch rush had cleared out, leaving us as the only customers. I was grateful for the chance to vent to Melissa without being overheard. “Speaking of cocky, how’s it been at school with Ben?” she asked, dropping her voice. “I haven’t seen him. He’s sending his aides to my room to pick up the kids for PE. I was going to pack up his things and leave them outside the door. But I took one look at it and tossed it into the dumpster in my alley.” “Did it make you feel better?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t know,” I replied and dropped my face into my hands. “So much has happened these last few days, I’m not sure what I’m supposed to feel.” “Whatever you’re feeling is what you’re supposed to feel, Emily. There are no right answers here. But I understand being filled with so many emotions they seem impossible to sort. Do you need to talk it out?” Maria Lopez, the owner and chef of Lopez’s Cantina, arrived at our table, both arms covered in long oven mitts. “Okay, girls, as usual, these plates are hot,” she warned, setting our food in front of us. “Would either of you like a refill?” “Not yet, thanks though.” My Coke was still three-quarters full. “I’m good,” Melissa added. “Alright. I’ll give you girls time to talk. If you need anything, I’ll be behind the register.” “Thanks, Maria,” I offered. She nodded and walked back to the front of the restaurant. “I do want to talk this out,” I told Melissa. “But first, I want to attack this burrito.” “By all means,” she replied, covering her enchiladas with salsa. We ate in silence until our plates were clean, then Maria brought us coffee and a plate of sopaipillas and told us to stay as long as we’d like.
“So who’s messing with your head more, Ben or Ethan?” Melissa pressed. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I think what’s surprised me most about the Ben situation is my reaction.” “What do you mean?” “I was crushed when I found Ben with Becky… but not initially. The first thing I felt was relief.” “I think that says it all, Emily,” Melissa murmured. “Believe me, the anger and hurt followed right behind it. But the relief never left. It hasn’t made any of this much easier. But it’s there. Obviously, you, Linda, and my uncle all saw through Ben better than I did.” “So maybe listen to us next time,” she teased. “I will,” I promised and drew an ‘x’ over my heart. “Which brings us to Ethan…” she continued, trailing off with only a raised eyebrow to finish the question. I nodded and took a sip of the coffee. “Yes… which brings us to Ethan. I can’t explain it, Mel. I feel the strongest connection to him. It’s like there’s some sort of magnet inside my chest, pulling me toward him. When I crawled into his bed that night, I’d convinced myself I was ready for whatever came after. I just wasn’t expecting him to want to make things so public and official so soon. I panicked a little.” “You did exactly what you were supposed to do,” she corrected me. “You told Ethan how you feel and what you need. He did the same, albeit he was more of an ass about it. One of you will have to compromise. And it can’t be you. It’ll set a precedent for your entire relationship and you’ll never win another battle again.” I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. “Aren’t we a little old to play games?” “Life is a game, Emily. I know being manipulative isn’t in your nature. And refusing to be the first to break isn’t always the most mature way to behave. But neither is insisting on all or nothing and attempting to throw a mostly naked woman out of your house. Trust me. I’ve been around men like Ethan my entire life. I understand how they think. And I also know you. If you let Ethan pressure you into something you’re not ready for, the relationship won’t last. You’re doing what’s in the best long-term interest for both of you. Ethan’s only thinking of what he wants at the moment.” “So I need to stay strong.” She nodded. “You did the absolute right thing.” “Ethan’s stubborn. What if he refuses to give too?” “Then it isn’t meant to be,” she replied with a sad smile. “I know that’s not what you want to hear. But it’s an outcome I think you should be ready for.” “Are you still planning to go to the game on Monday?” She nodded. “I have to. My boss is thrilled that I landed an exclusive with Portland’s
new golden boy. But I promise not to enjoy one second of it.” “Is it wrong that I still sort of want to go?” “Not at all. But you’re not going. Watch the game at home, if you want. But the last thing you should do is show up at the stadium. That’s advice you should follow even if you and Ethan work things out… especially if you work things out.” I didn’t follow. “Why is that?” She rolled her eyes. “I will never understand how you spent a year with Ben without soaking up even a little Sports Center. Football girlfriends and wives are given way more credit than they deserve for their men’s performances. If you start going to games and Ethan does well, they’ll call you a good luck charm. But the moment he blows a game with you in the stands, they’ll call you a curse and you’ll become the most hated woman in the city.” “That’s ridiculous,” I replied with a snort. “I agree. But that doesn’t make it any less true.” “I’ll keep that in mind, if we work things out. Can I ask one more question?” “Ask whatever you’d like,” she insisted. “If, by some chance, Ethan does come around, do you think I’d be a terrible person for jumping into a new relationship so soon after leaving an old one?” Melissa shook her head. “Keep in mind that my opinion is skewed. I love you and I want to see you happy. I also work at a news station and I’m bombarded every day with reminders that life is short. If you decide Ethan is who you want, then screw everyone else’s opinion. Ben is an asshole. I say you should celebrate being rid of him, not mourn it.” She folded a honey dipped sopaipilla into her mouth and followed it with a long sip of coffee. “Have you told your uncle about any of this?” she asked, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin. I shook my head. “He and Claudia left for Florida the morning after we all had dinner. They’re celebrating Walt’s retirement and I didn’t want to interrupt their vacation. But I’m sure he’ll have plenty to say.” “Does anyone else know about Ethan?” “Just Linda. I don’t want anyone else to know, Melissa. I can’t exactly explain what’s going on between us when I don’t understand it myself.” “I understand, and my lips are sealed. I know you’re putting a lot of trust in me, given my job. I appreciate that, Em.” My eyes widened. I’d never even considered that she’d turn on me. “I know you’d never sell me out for a story. And I promise if there ever is anything to tell, you have the exclusive.”
Melissa beamed back at me and attacked another sopaipilla. Despite my confusion and my anger at Ethan’s demanding behavior, I had a feeling Melissa would have her story sooner rather than later.
*** I spent the next three weeks conquering my urge to call Ethan. But just because I wasn’t speaking to him didn’t mean he wasn’t on my mind. The Stallions won their first three games; I watched anxiously from home, praying Ethan wouldn’t be hurt. He dominated the other teams’ defenses and quickly became the most talked about player in professional football. As he’d promised, sports reporters stopped questioning whether or not he deserved his high priced salary. Ethan popped into my mind at the most surprising, inconvenient times and everyone at school knew I had something on my mind. Two weeks into mine and Ethan’s standoff, Ben and Becky went public with their relationship and I started getting sympathetic smiles and lots of space. I was more than happy to let them believe Ben was why I’d been so distracted. My door opened and my students filed into the room with Linda at their heels. I put a wide smile on my face and rose to my feet. “Was everyone good for Miss Howard?” I sang, meeting Linda’s eyes. We alternated lunch and recess duty and she’d just finished her turn. “Everyone was great,” she assured me. “Our kindergarteners could teach the thirdgrade class a thing or two. You’d have thought someone had turned a group of wild monkeys loose in the cafeteria.” “They were crazy, Miss Kinkaid,” Sophie Lewis told me, obviously in awe of the older kids’ antics. “Birthday?” I asked Linda with a knowing frown. She nodded. “Beatrice said a parent showed up with icing drenched cupcakes, topped with chunks of fudge. If you’re not busy after school, she would probably appreciate a trip to the juice bar.” “Sounds like a plan,” I agreed. ‘Juice bar’ was our code word for happy hour at the nearby pub. A knock echoed through my room, followed by a collective gasp from all of the kids. I looked past Linda and saw Ethan standing in my doorway. The kids’ initial gasps of shock were followed by squeals of delight and disbelief. Half of them swarmed him, tugging at his Stallions jersey and asking for autographs. The other half moved to the far wall and blushed with shyness. Beatrice really lucked out with those sugar bombs. I’d take twenty kids on a sugar high over this any day. “Okay class, let’s all sit down in our seats.”
I smiled at the kids as they settled behind their desks, then met Ethan’s eyes with my best ‘what the hell do you think you’re doing’ glare. He looked adorably bashful and glanced down to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t think this through. I was hoping to talk to you for a minute.” Linda pushed between us, ignoring Ethan completely. “I have to get back to my room. See you at Arnie’s?” “I’ll be there,” I assured her. I turned back to the class with a broad, forced smile. “Boys and girls, I know you’re all excited to meet Mr. McAlister. Unfortunately, he can’t stay to talk today.” “Noooo!” several voices moaned in unison. “It’s okay, kids,” Ethan assured them. “I’m here to talk to your teacher about an extra special surprise I want to plan for your school. Would it be alright if I talk to her in the hall for a few minutes?” They answered him with silent, enthralled faces and a few celebrity-struck head nods. “I’ll be right back kids,” I promised. “While I’m talking to Mr. McAlister, you can split into your reading groups. I want each group to choose a different chapter book. When I come back, we’ll vote as a class on what we’ll read next during story time.” I led Ethan into the hallway and turned on him, my hands on my hips. “What the hell do you think you’re doing here? And how did you get by the front desk anyway?” I held up a hand when he started to speak. “You can’t just show up unannounced and disrupt my class. And I sure as hell hope you plan to follow through on that surprise you just promised them. They’re not going to forget about that,” I hissed, doing my best to keep my voice low. “I know. I’m sorry. I needed to see you, Emily. I know we only spent one night together, but I can’t get you out of my head. I miss you like I’d miss a piece of my own body.” Melt. That was so sweet. “So you thought you’d just show up here and claim me?” I countered, keeping my mad on. “Or have you finally come to apologize?” “I came to tell you that enough is enough. I know you have your reasons for wanting to take things slow… good, practical reasons. But I can’t take it anymore. I’ve never felt like this before. Until I met you, I thought emotions like this only existed in books. We have a chance to be genuinely, blissfully happy together. I’m certain of it. And I know you feel it too. So like I said, I came here to tell you that enough is enough. Can we please just give in to what we already know is right?” I shook my head in disbelief. “You have a lot of nerve. We had this conversation three weeks ago and I told you how I felt. Now you show up here and make the same demands? If you’d have compromised even an inch, this would have worked out much better for you. I need to get back to the kids. I’ll tell Principal Matthews he can expect to hear from
you about that surprise.” “You’re being ridiculous,” he called after me. His voice echoed through the empty hallway and three of my colleagues stuck their heads out to see what was going on. “Get out of here, Ethan,” I hissed. “Sorry to disturb you all,” he continued, raising his voice. “As you may know, I’m Ethan McAlister. What you don’t know is that I’m in love with Emily Kinkaid.” Oh my God. Please, just let me disappear into the floor. I felt my face flush hot with rage while several of the other teachers let out amused laughs and calls of congratulations. I walked straight up to Ethan and poked his chest with two fingers. “If we were meant to be the way you say we are, you wouldn’t have to force it. Now I believe I asked you to leave.” He nodded at me, the muscles in his jaw pulsing. He stared at me another moment, then turned and slunk away.
*** “Bartender, my friend and I need another line of shots,” Melissa called out. “Okay, but you’re cut off after this,” he warned. The redheaded bartender lined up six shot glasses on his rubber mat and filled them to the brim with tequila. It was Sunday afternoon, and Melissa and I were at Butch’s Sports Bar watching the Stallions play. A week and a half had passed since I’d thrown Ethan out of the school, and my anger and frustration had grown with each day. Ethan had been so close to perfect. If he’d just been willing to compromise, we could have been well on our way to the happy, blissful life he’d described. The bartender slid the drinks in front of us and the game came back from commercial. “Just in time, Billy,” Melissa told him. We were playing a new drinking game to celebrate my decision to hold my ground with Ethan. Every time someone on television called Ethan “Portland’s Most Eligible Bachelor,” we took a shot. We also drank when anyone mentioned any of the women he’d been casually tied to during his career, and every time the reporter from Melissa’s station appeared on the screen. Phillip appeared in the bottom right corner of the television screen and we salted our wrists. We were already on our second line of shots, and the tequila went down without a burn. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to be on the field tonight,” I told her, tossing aside my lemon rind. She shrugged and let out a frustrated sigh. “It sucks, but what can I do? The moment the chicken pox threat was gone, I was booted back to the features section. My boss promised to start throwing me some of the lower profile sports assignments. I guess we’ll just wait and see if that happens.”
I gave her a sympathetic nod and turned my attention back to the game. “Portland’s at first down on the thirty-five-yard line. Here’s the snap…” “And the Denver defense has blitzed McAlister—” I watched in horror as a trio of defensive linemen took Ethan to the ground. They piled on top of him and an official tossed up a flag. Ethan’s teammates dug through the pile of bodies, tossing the other players off of him. Melissa slipped her hand into mine as paramedics rushed the field. “Officials have called unnecessary roughness. McAlister doesn’t seem to be responding.” “Where the fuck were his blockers?” someone in the crowd called out. The bar sprung alive with debate, but my only focus was the television. I felt as if my very existence was tied to Ethan’s. I needed him to be okay, even though I still didn’t understand why. The paramedics loaded his limp body onto a stretcher and an ambulance pulled straight onto the field. “We have to go,” I announced. “Billy, I need to tab out.” The bartender swiped Melissa’s debit card and she gave our untouched shots to the couple beside us. She scribbled her name on the receipt while I headed for the door. “Neither of us are in any shape to drive,” she pointed out as we stumbled onto the sidewalk. “Then we’ll take a cab. Where would they take him, Melissa?” “I don’t know for sure. That’s not the kind of information the team shares with anyone. But if I have to guess, I’d say Oregon Medicine and Science.” “Are you sure? Providence Medical is closer,” I pointed out. “Yes. But the teaching hospital has better doctors and equipment.” “Then that’s where we’re going.” I stepped to the curb and hailed an oncoming cab. We slid into the backseat and I gave the driver our destination. He had the game playing on the radio. During the thirty-minute drive to the hospital, the sportscaster made two separate announcements that there was still no news on Ethan McAlister’s condition. “He’ll be okay, right?” I asked Melissa under my breath. “I don’t know,” she warned. “He hit the ground pretty hard. And he had a lot of weight on top of him. I don’t want to feed you false hope, Emily. This could be bad.” I nodded and gripped her hand tighter. When we finally pulled up to the emergency room entrance, I threw two twenties at the driver and told him to keep the change. I rushed through the open glass doors and into the sterile waiting area. “Can I help you?” asked the nurse behind the desk.
“We’re here to see Ethan McAlister,” Melissa explained. If the nurse recognized his name, she did a great job of covering it. “Room number?” “I don’t know,” I confessed. “I’m not even sure this is where they brought him.” “I understand you’re worried, ma’am,” she replied with genuine sympathy. “But I’m not allowed to give out patient information. I can direct you to a specific room, but nothing more.” I opened my mouth to argue, but Melissa pulled me away. “We understand,” she called over her shoulder. I shook off her arm as we neared the end of the hallway. “What are you doing? I have to find Ethan. I have to know he’s okay. You don’t understand, Meliss—” “I get it,” she assured me. “And we’re going to find him. Just follow my lead.” After finding the main lobby, Melissa stopped in front of a large board that listed every doctor’s office number. “All of the ortho offices are in wing four B, and the neuro docs are one floor up. I think it’s a safe bet that the patient rooms are close by,” she explained. “Thank God you’re good at your job. Let’s start on five. Surely they’d prioritize his brain over his bones.” “One would hope so,” she agreed, rushing after me to the elevator. We rode the car up to the fifth floor and started wandering the hallways, examining the handwritten nameplates on each patient room door. “You can’t be here,” announced a harsh male voice. Startled, I turned toward the sound. A strict looking man in a lab coat stared back at me with a frown. The young, burly man behind him met my eyes with a hint of recognition. Melissa sidled up beside me and gave the doctor her most charming smile. “Is there a problem?” she asked, her voice dripping with innocence. “This is a closed patient floor. You’re not allowed here.” The younger man cleared his throat, his eyes still on me. “You’re Emily, right?” “Yes,” I replied with a sigh of relief. “This is Ethan’s girlfriend, Doc. He’ll want to see her when he wakes up.” The doctor pinched his lips with disapproval, but he didn’t make us leave. “Ethan was just taken to radiology. If you’d like to go to the waiting room down the hall, I’ll come get you when he’s regained consciousness.” “Thank you.” The doctor gave us a curt nod and continued down the hallway. “And thank you,” I told the other man.
He nodded and extended his hand. “Brock Simpson, I’m one of Ethan’s teammates.” “You were injured last week,” I remembered out loud. “How’s the ankle?” “Not so hot.” He lifted his pants leg, revealing a thick metal and neoprene brace. “Since I wasn’t dressed out for the game, coach let me ride in the ambulance with Ethan.” “I’m glad he wasn’t alone.” Brock nodded and the three of us followed signs to the fifth-floor waiting area. Melissa bought three bottles of water from the vending machine and we sat in nervous silence until the doctor reappeared nearly an hour later. “Ethan is awake,” he announced. “Miss Kinkaid, he’s asked to see you first.” Relief rushed through my chest and I rose to my feet. “Take your time, Emily,” Brock insisted. “Just tell Ethan I’m here if he needs anything.” “I’ll wait right here,” Melissa added. The doctor paused and studied her for a moment. “Don’t you work for one of the local news stations?” She nodded. “Yes. I’m a field reporter for Channel 9 News.” He narrowed his eyes. “I trust your visit tonight is strictly personal?” “Absolutely,” she agreed, her voice solemn. He was silent for a few more long seconds, then decided he believed her. “Very well. This way, Miss Kinkaid.” I followed him down the hallway, anxiety growing in my chest. “Is Ethan going to be okay?” “I’ll let him answer that for you.” The doctor pushed open Ethan’s door and disappeared into the room. I took a deep breath and followed. Ethan was propped up in the hospital bed. His face was bruised and cut and tubes snaked into his body, but he looked happier than I’d ever seen him. “Hey baby,” he greeted me with an ecstatic grin. “If I’d known a few bumps and bruises was all it would take to get you back, I’d have gotten blitzed a month ago.”
*** I knocked lightly on Ethan’s hospital door and gently swung it open. He was sitting upright in his bed, frowning at the screen of his laptop. “Hey,” I greeted him tentatively. “Are you up for some company?” Relief washed over his face as he looked up from his computer. “You’re here. I was starting to wonder if I dreamed that. Come in.” He pushed the tray table away from his bed and moved his legs to one side of the mattress. Half of me wanted to rush to him, the other half was afraid I’d hurt him. I perched on the arm of the recliner instead of settling
down beside him. “How do you feel?” “Like a thousand pounds tackled me,” he replied with a cringe. “But my head is clear today. Doctor Murphy told me I was pretty out of it last night.” I nodded. “It scared me,” I confessed. “When I first saw you, I thought you were fine. But then you started talking nonsense, and you kept laughing at the wall. The doctor explained it was just the effects of the painkillers they’d given you. But after the way you were knocked out, I was terrified something more serious was going on.” “My head is the least of my problems. I just got word from the trainer. Thanks to this, I’m sitting out for at least three weeks.” He nodded toward his right arm, which hung from a sling in front of his chest. I knew he was disappointed, but I felt incredibly relieved. I knew Ethan would play hurt if the coaches and trainers let him. “Three weeks will fly by in no time,” I assured him, my voice hesitant. This was the first time we’d really talked since I threw him out of the school, and we were both ignoring the elephant in the room. “If you want, I’ll keep you company while you heal.” Ethan reached for me with his left arm and I finally joined him on the bed. “I want that very much,” he whispered. I lowered my lips to his and kissed him gently, savoring his taste. He pulled away when my salty tears hit our lips. He brushed my cheek with his thumb and stared at me with concern. “Emily, I’m going to be fine. I promise,” he assured me. “I know,” I sobbed, my tears falling harder. “I was just so scared. I wasted weeks trying to convince myself I was better off without you. But I couldn’t let you go. Melissa and I were watching the game at the bar. When you hit the ground and didn’t get up… I thought… I thought—” “Shh,” Ethan whispered, easing my head to his left shoulder. He stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head. “I’m so sorry I wasted so much time. I don’t want to waste any more time,” I sobbed. “You didn’t waste anything. I did,” he insisted. “I was a bull-headed asshole. We can take things as slow as you want, Em. Just tell me that I haven’t lost my chance with you.” “You haven’t lost anything,” I told him, lifting my head from his shoulder. I took him by the hand and looked into his soft, hopeful eyes. “I can’t fight the connection between us, not anymore. When I watched those linebackers take you down last night, I felt the impact course through my entire body. When they loaded you onto the stretcher, it was like my heart was being ripped out of my chest. All I could think about was getting to you. I still don’t understand this. But I’m ready to figure out what these feelings mean.” Ethan squeezed my hand, then lifted it to his lips. “You have no idea how happy I am
to hear you say that. And I meant what I said. We can take this as slow as you want. I’m happy just to be in your presence. And I’ll understand if you still want to keep this quiet. I don’t blame you for not wanting to be hounded by reporters.” “There’s no way we’ll be able to keep it quiet. Until you’re healed, I have no intention of leaving your side for anything other than work. You’re going to be sick of me by the time the doctor clears you for practice.” “You really want to take care of me?” “I really do,” I told him with a genuine grin. “But if this is going to work, there are a few things you’ll need to understand.” “I’m all ears,” he insisted. “I know you’re used to getting your way. But I don’t do well with ultimatums. You don’t get to decide how you want things and demand I fall in line.” “I’m sorry,” he offered with a regretful groan. “I never should have told you we had to be all or nothing. Especially since you were fresh out of a long relationship. Of course you needed time to get your head on straight. I should have understood that. The way I spoke to you that morning… that was all insecurity.” That surprised me. “What in the world do you have to be insecure about?” Ethan shrugged. “You were with Ben for a long time. You’d told me over and over again how much you loved him, how you planned to settle down with him. I thought you didn’t want to make things official with me because you were still hung up on him.” That never crossed my mind. I held his face in my hand and stared at him, my eyes firm and determined. “I don’t want you to ever entertain a thought like that again. I thought I loved Ben. But I can see now that what I really loved was the idea of the kind of life I could have with him.” “Is that still the kind of life you want, Emily? An uneventful, settled life?” he pressed. I heard the anxiety in his voice and felt bad for not being able to give him the answer he was hoping for. “Deep down? Yes. If I had my way, you’d have a boring nine-to-five job, you’d play golf every Saturday, and we’d have pancakes every Sunday morning. That type of existence seems exciting to me because I’ve never had it before. But I know that’s pretty much the exact opposite of what you want. And I’d never ask you to give up the life you love.” “So where does that leave us?” I shrugged. “We’ll both have to learn to compromise. I guess we’ll figure it out as we go.” I moved to kiss him again, but the door flew open and a petite, middle-aged redhead bustled into the room. “Good aft — oh I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t realize you had company. Hello dear, I’m Martha Montez. And you are?” Ethan’s mother extended her hand and looked me up and
down with a critical eye. “Mom, this is Emily Kinkaid. I’ve told you about her. Emily, this is my mother.” “It’s very nice to meet you, Mrs. Montez,” I offered, politely shaking her hand. “Kinkaid… you’re the kindergarten teacher? You teach at that underprivileged school.” “The Day School isn’t in the best of neighborhoods,” I patiently agreed. “But we have students from a variety of backgrounds.” “That’s wonderful, dear,” she replied with a dismissive wave. She wedged herself between us and started fussing with his pillow. “How are you feeling, darling? Are they taking good care of you here?” “I’m great, Mom. I’d be better if you hadn’t pulled strings with the trainers. I know you influenced them to bench me instead of putting me on the injured reserve list.” She fluffed a pillow with a vengeance. “I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talking about.” Martha’s tone told me she knew exactly what he was talking about. But I didn’t want Ethan back on the field any more than she did, so I kept my mouth shut. “Come on, Mom. Half of the team’s played with broken ribs at some point or another. And even with a busted collarbone, my aim is better than Bronski’s. If Coach had his way, I’d be on the field Thursday night.” “Honey, you can think what you want. But your broken ribs are in dangerous places. If you’re hit again before they’re healed, you could puncture a lung. Your life is more important than a few games.” “I think we all agree on that,” I piped in, a little too eager to get on Martha’s good side. She turned her nose up and looked from Ethan to me. “I trust you understand it’s important my son doesn’t exert himself in any way?” My face flushed hot at the implication in her words. Ethan, on the other hand, seemed amused by her warning. “Don’t worry, Mom. Emily isn’t going to screw me to death.” “Ethan David!” Martha gasped. My face burned hotter, but Ethan pressed on. “I’m sorry, Mother. But if you insist on being inappropriate, so will I.” She scowled at him but changed the subject. “I called for an update earlier and your nurse said they’re planning to release you this afternoon. Mercedes is setting your old room up and I’ve hired a nurse to take care of you during the day while Victor and I are at work. When you’re up to it, text Mercedes a list of the food you want her to stock.” “None of that will be necessary, Mother,” he insisted. “When I get out of here, all I want to do is go home.” “Don’t be ridiculous, sweetheart. Who will take care of you?”
I cleared my throat. “I will.” She shot me a look. “I don’t mean to be condescending, dear. But I’m not sure you’re capable of doing that.” “I can take care of myself,” Ethan interjected, his voice harsh. He took a deep breath and continued on with a softer tone. “Look, I appreciate that you want to take care of me. But I’m a grown man, Mom. I want to heal in my bed, with my things around me. And I already have everything I need for PT in my home gym.” Martha studied him silently for a moment then let out a resigned sigh. “Fine. I know better than to try to talk sense into you when you get like this.” She turned to me, her hands on her hips. “Do you plan on moving into Ethan’s place while he’s recovering?” “I plan to be there as often as he needs me,” I replied. Ethan and I hadn’t discussed me moving in. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that big of a commitment, and I certainly didn’t want to discuss it for the first time in front of his mother. She sniffed. “I assume you won’t be able to take time off work?” “I wouldn’t ask Emily to do that,” Ethan chimed in again. “Fine. I won’t force you to move home, on the condition that the nurse I hired takes care of you while Emily’s at school.” “Deal,” Ethan agreed. “But tell her to bring a book or something. I’m far from helpless. She’s not going to have much to do.” Martha looked at the gold Rolex on her wrist and planted a quick kiss on Ethan’s cheek. “I need to get back to Victor. We have a charity event tonight for the Children’s Hospital. You’ll call me if you need anything?” “Yes, Mother.” She nodded at him and then stepped past me without making eye contact. “Emily, can I please speak with you in the hallway?” she asked just before disappearing through the door. Ethan opened his mouth to protest, but she was already out of sight. “You don’t have to go out there,” he told me. “It’s fine,” I assured him, crossing my fingers. “I’m sure she just wants to give me a few pointers on how to take care of you.” He scowled and his head fell back on his pillow. “Not likely.” I took a deep breath and joined Martha in the hall. She led me wordlessly to the waiting room and pointed at a bench. “Have a seat, Emily.”
I sat down and folded my hands in my lap. “Is there something I can help you with, Mrs. Montez?” She stood in front of me, hands on hips. “Yes. You can tell me what your intentions are with my son.” “I’m not sure how to answer that,” I admitted, meeting her eyes. “I care about Ethan. For the moment, I intend to take care of him, make sure he follows the doctor’s instructions, and keep him company while he gets well.” “And after he’s well?” she pressed. “Will you be moving back to your place, or do you intend to use this as your way of becoming a fixture in his life?” She thinks I’m a gold digger. “I won’t have to move back to my place because I don’t intend to move out of it. With all due respect, Mrs. Montez, I understand you’re protective of Ethan. But I have no intentions of taking advantage of him. I own my condo outright, and I have my own money. I don’t need Ethan to take care of me.” She studied me for a few long moments then spoke again. “My son is quite taken with you. And he was crushed when you turned him away. Ethan could have any woman he wants. I suggest you keep that in mind.” With that, she spun on her thousand dollar high heels and stormed toward the elevator. I resisted the urge to flip a middle finger to her back.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ethan was released from the hospital the next day around the time I was corralling my students into the cafeteria line. I checked in with him every time I had a free moment and stared at my clock, counting the seconds until we’d be together again. When the final bell rang for the day, I herded the kids out of the room, locking the classroom behind us. I’d almost made it to the parking lot when Ben’s voice echoed down the hall. “Emily? Can I talk to you for a second?” I took a deep breath before turning to face him. Students and teachers lingered in the hall, so I put a broad smile on my face and tried to sound casual. “What can I help you with?” Ben stepped up and took me by the elbow. “Privately,” he whispered. I shook free of his grip but followed him into the empty break room. “What is it, Ben?” I snapped, my voice much harsher once we were in private. He exhaled loudly and leaned against the door. “I owe you an apology. I owe you more than that.” Oh my God… is he crying? Ben looked up at me with bloodshot eyes. “I made a terrible mistake, Em. I never should have gotten involved with Becky. That was the most selfish, destructive thing I’ve ever done. I knew how you felt about me, and where we were headed. And I panicked. Is there any way you could find it in your heart to forgive me?” “I’ve already forgiven you, Ben. Is that it? I have somewhere to be.” I tried to move past him, but he wouldn’t budge from the door. He gripped me by the forearms and stared at me with desperation in his eyes. “You don’t understand. I miss you. I’ll do anything it takes to get you back. Just tell me what to do.” I shook free of him and took a few steps back, my heart racing with rage. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him he had a lot of nerve and suggest where he could stick his apology. But the last thing I wanted to do was start a long, drawn out argument. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared at him defiantly. “I said I forgive you. I also told you I have somewhere to be. Get out of my way, Ben. Or the moment I get out of this room, I’m going straight to Principal Matthews.” He glared back at me but took two steps to the side. I opened the door, but he grabbed my arm again as I stepped into the hallway. “You want what I can give you, Em. I know you do. We love each other. And we’ll be together again.”
Keep dreaming, douchebag. I glanced to my right and saw Linda coming down the hallway. “Let go of me, Ben,” I said firmly. He let go and followed me into the hall, startled to see Linda. “Is everything okay, Emily?” she asked, making her disdain for him clear by her tone. “Everything’s fine. I’m on my way out, you?” She nodded but kept her eyes on Ben. “I’ll walk you to your car.” She linked her arm through mine and we set off for the double glass doors. “What was that about?” she whispered. “Just Ben being his usual asshole self,” I replied with a low growl. “Apparently, he’s realized that leaving me was a terrible mistake. He actually asked what he had to do to win me back.” “I hope you told him to fuck off.” I shook my head as we stepped into the warm sunshine. “I told him I accepted his apology. I didn’t dignify the rest of it with a response.” “Good for you,” she said, turning toward my Prius. She walked me to the driver’s door and shaded her eyes with one hand. “I’m glad you told him off. But the look on his face when I walked up… it was like he was possessed.” “Ben’s an ass. But he’s harmless,” I insisted. “I’m sure he’ll have a new conquest lined up sooner rather than later and forget all about me.” “If you’re sure… but I definitely don’t think you should be alone with him again.” “I’m not afraid of Ben,” I assured her. “But I don’t plan on spending anymore one-onone time with him.” “Okay. Well, tell Ethan he’s in our thoughts and call me if you need anything.” “I will. Thanks, Linda.” I climbed behind the wheel of my car and left the parking lot without a second thought of Ben.
*** I found Ethan stretched out on a lawn chair, sunning by the pool. He wore a pair of long, loose athletic shorts, a backwards Stallions hat, and his arm sling. Even with the bruises, his firm, muscular chest sent shivers of desire through me. “Hey, baby,” he greeted me with a grin. “How was work?” “Torturous.” I bent down and kissed him before settling down in the opposite chair. “All I could think about was getting here to you. How are you feeling?”
“As the doctors warned, the pain is definitely worse on the third day.” His beautiful face twisted into a grimace. “It feels like someone ripped my arm off and then reattached it wrong. I still can’t really take a deep breath.” “When did you last have your pain meds? And aren’t you supposed to have a nurse?” “Mindy, the nurse, left about an hour ago. I promised to be good and not move until you got here. And I haven’t had a pain pill since I left the hospital. They make me sleepy.” “You’re healing. You’re supposed to sleep.” “And I will,” he agreed. “But I didn’t want to be zonked out when you got here. Looking forward to spending alone time with you is what got me through the last few days.” I couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I’m flattered. But I hate that you’re hurting. What if I get you a pill and we cuddle up for a nap together?” “Is this an example of the compromises you were talking about?” he teased. “Yes,” I agreed. “And also, I’m exhausted. I haven’t slept very well since Sunday… since long before then, actually.” Ethan gave me an understanding nod. “I haven’t gotten a good night’s sleep since the last time you stayed over,” he confessed. He slowly rose to his feet and took my hand, leading me back into the house. We made our way to Ethan’s bedroom, where his prescriptions were laid out on his nightstand. He took a single pain killer, then I helped him between the sheets and propped my pillows up beside him on the headboard. I nestled in beside him, longing to be in his arms but knowing he was too hurt to hold me. I settled for resting my head on Ethan’s shoulder and slipping my hand into his. “What are the chances your mom set up a spy cam to make sure I’m not overly exerting you?” I teased. Ethan let out an exaggerated groan. “God, I wouldn’t put that past her. Why? Do you feel like exerting me?” he teased back. I turned and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Like you wouldn’t believe. But we’re not taking that chance. I’ll control myself until the doctor says it’s safe. I’m just happy we’re in each other’s arms again, Ethan. I can be patient with the rest.” He moved a hand to my chin and pulled my lips to his. I kissed him softly, constantly aware of his breaths. I’d joked about his overprotective mother, but the last thing I wanted to do was cause him any more pain. His chest rose and fell a little too roughly, and I pulled away. “I’m okay,” he assured me. I shook my head. “You’ve already told me it’s painful to take a deep breath,” I reminded him. He groaned and kissed my forehead. “But the rest of it feels so good.” I rolled my eyes. “We have plenty of time for that, Ethan. And believe me, it’ll feel a
lot better when I’m not worried about one of your lungs collapsing.” Ethan took my hand and guided it to his stiff, throbbing cock. “We could go really slow,” he whispered, stroking himself with my hand. “And if it gets to be too much for me, we can always stop.” I wanted Ethan as much as he wanted me. But I was terrified of hurting him. I shook my head but didn’t pull my hand away. “We can’t, Ethan. We just have to wait a few weeks.” “We’ve already waited weeks,” he reminded me, arching his hips into my hand. “I’ve spent weeks fantasizing about being with you again. I need to be with you, to feel that connection. Please, don’t make me wait. We don’t even have to move. This isn’t about an orgasm, Em. This is about me and you, connected the way we belong.” Well, how the hell am I supposed to argue with that? “When you put it that way…” I closed my hand around his cock and planted a soft, quick kiss on his lips. “The moment I feel like this is too much for you, we’re stopping,” I warned. “Deal… the condoms are in the top drawer.” I studied his face for a moment. “I’m on the pill,” I finally confessed. “I’ve been on the pill since I was sixteen. Unless there’s something I need to know, the condoms can stay in the drawer.” Ethan’s eyes burned hot with desire and he shook his head. “If there was something you needed to know, you would already know.” He grabbed the hem of my blouse and pulled it over my head, tossing it to the floor. I stripped out of the rest of my clothes and pulled Ethan’s shorts down his legs before crawling onto his lap. I stared into his eyes and issued a final warning. “This is not going to get… athletic,” I reminded him. He nodded and leaned back against the headboard. I lowered myself onto his cock, my wet, aching pussy finally satisfied. Ethan filled me completely as I leaned back, careful to keep all of my weight away from his broken bones. Ethan let out a light moan, but his breaths remained shallow and easy. “This is just what I needed.” He shifted his weight, bending his knees behind me. I leaned back against his thighs and circled my hips ever so slightly. Ethan looked at me with an adoring, satisfied smile. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” I felt myself blush and dropped my eyes to the bed. He took my chin in one hand and lifted my face again. He studied me for a moment, our hips completely still. “I mean it, Emily. You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known, inside and out. And when we’re together, like this, I feel like I’m finally where I belong.” I nodded back at him and brushed a single happy tear from my eye. “I feel the same
way.” I leaned forward and kissed him again, grinding into his cock. “Slow down,” he warned with a whisper. I immediately pulled away, ready to climb off of him. But Ethan put a warm hand on my shoulder and gently pushed me back against his legs. “Just slow… not stop,” he moaned. He circled his hips and then went still again. “Open your eyes, Em,” he pleaded. I opened my eyes and held his gaze as he moved with soft, gentle thrusts. He moved his hands to my neck, massaging my shoulders before tracing long, teasing strokes down my sides. He moved from my hips to my collarbones, then to my breasts, all the while rocking ever so slightly within me. He slipped one thumb into my mouth, and I swirled my tongue around it and bore down on his cock. He dropped his wet thumb to my clit and slowly stroked me. He teased my breasts with his other hand and the slow burn inside me grew to a raging fire. We were barely moving, but I’d never felt so alive. “Are you going to come for me, baby?” he asked as he felt me tighten. “Yes,” I gasped back at him. “Yes…” He pinched my nipple and increased the pressure of his thumb. He moved his hips with two sharp, quick thrusts and my body exploded with pleasure. I collapsed back against Ethan’s legs and his thumb moved faster, spurring me to a new level of ecstasy. I writhed against him and felt his cock tremble and then erupt inside me. I heard Ethan struggle for breath and immediately went into panic mode. “Oh my God,” I breathed out, crawling to his side. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.” I took Ethan by the shoulder, gently lifting him off of the pillows. He let out a soft laugh and collapsed back against the headboard. “I’m fine, Emily. I’m better than fine. That was incredible.” “You sounded like you were having an asthma attack or something?” “I got a little carried away at the end,” he agreed, looking guilty. “But it was more than worth it.” “Do you need another pill?” I asked, desperate to do anything to make him feel better. He shook his head. “I just need a minute to catch my breath. Come here… just be careful and avoid my right side.” He wrapped his left arm around me and I laid my head on his shoulder. After a few minutes, his breaths evened and he cleared his throat. “That was a nice surprise about the birth control. Why didn’t you mention it last time?”
“I don’t know. I guess I didn’t completely trust you then. I feel the exact same way you do, Ethan. But you have to admit, this is all sort of surreal. I didn’t know emotions like this existed. Especially so fast.” “It’s completely surreal,” he agreed with a nod. “But you trust it… do you trust me now?” The hesitation in his voice tore at my heart. I sat up again and looked into his eyes. “Yes, Ethan. I still don’t understand this, but I trust it. And I trust you with everything.” Our next kiss was interrupted by Ethan’s growling stomach. I let out a soft chuckle and pulled away from him, reaching for my clothes. “What sounds good for dinner?” I asked my patient. “Let’s order a pizza and eat it in bed,” he suggested. I dropped my blouse and crawled back between the sheets beside him. “That’s the second best idea you’ve had today.”
*** “It’s so good to see you, sweetheart. You look fantastic,” Uncle Walt said, wrapping me in a bear hug. He released me and pulled out my chair before returning to his seat. The hostess set a menu down in front of me and filled my water glass before leaving the table. “It’s great to see you too. How pissed are you?” I asked with a cringe. “Why would I be pissed?” he replied with a shrug. “I can’t say anything. I kept my relationship with Claudia from you for months. Though I’d like to think if I were in your position, I’d have said something instead of letting you find out about it in the news.” Two weeks had passed since Ethan’s injury. The previous weekend, the two of us had finally ventured out of his house. We were photographed at several home interior stores around the city and news of our relationship spread like wildfire. “I should have called you. I’m so sorry. Everything happened so fast. I wasn’t sure how to explain something I didn’t understand myself.” “I understand,” he assured me. “Though I have to admit, seeing those pictures kind of stung. I hope you know you can talk to me about anything, Emily.” Love for my surrogate dad filled me. “I’ve always known that.” A tall, blonde waitress came up to our table and greeted us with a wide smile. She looked from my uncle to me, and then to the empty chair beside me. “Good evening. My name is Erica and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Are we expecting anyone else?” she asked hopefully. She recognizes me from the news. She’s hoping Ethan’s joining us. “No, it’s just the two of us,” I replied with an amused grin. Her shoulders sank a bit, but she kept the smile plastered across her face. “Wonderful. Can I start you off with a glass of wine or an appetizer?”
I shook my head. “I’ll have the grilled snapper and a glass of iced tea.” “I’ll have the same,” Walt added. “I’ll have your drinks right out,” she promised. Erica rushed away from the table and Walt’s lips turned up in a teasing smile. “Pretty soon, I won’t be able to take you anywhere.” “It’s ridiculous. And it’s definitely going to take some getting used to.” “So when will I get to meet this new man of yours?” “Whenever you’d like. In fact, he asked me to invite you and Claudia to the Stallions’ game on Thanksgiving. They play in the morning, and we thought we’d host dinner at his place after.” “That’s sort of short notice, but I believe we can make it,” he agreed. “Will Ethan get to play?” I nodded. “If all goes as planned, it’ll be his first game back.” Erica reappeared with our teas. “Are you sure I can’t get you something while you wait on your entrees?” “No, thank you,” I told her again. She nodded and moved on to a nearby table. Uncle Walt took a long drink of his tea and then met my eyes with a curious stare. “So, tell me how this happened. The last time we talked about your personal life, you’d just left that bastard, Ben.” I took another sip of tea, thinking of how best to share the story. “Ethan and I met at a diner a few weeks after school started. We were both eating alone at the counter. I had no idea who he was, which he still finds incredibly amusing. He asked me out then, but I was still with Ben. The next Saturday, I tagged along when Melissa interviewed the team. That’s when I realized who he was. He asked for my number again, and I gave it to him. We were just friends until I realized what an ass Ben really was. We didn’t officially start dating until after he was hurt.” “From what I’ve heard, you’re not so much dating as shacking up with the guy,” he countered with a hint of disapproval. I rolled my eyes. “I’m not shacking up with anyone. I’m staying at Ethan’s because he’s hurt and needs someone to take care of him. As soon as he’s feeling better, I’ll go home.” “The longer you’re there, the less likely you’ll leave,” he argued. “I just want to make sure you’re thinking this through. I mean how much do you even know about Ethan? It seems like you’re moving awfully fast.” “It has been fast,” I agreed. “I know this sounds crazy. But when we met, I didn’t feel like I was meeting a stranger. I felt like I was being reunited with someone I’d forgotten I’d lost.”
A happy smile spread across my uncle’s face. “What is it?” I asked, my brow pinched with confusion. “That’s exactly what your father said the night he met your mother. Back then, I thought he was being an overly dramatic, sentimental sap. But I felt the same way the first time I saw Claudia. And I’m so happy to hear you say it now.” “So I have your approval?” I bit my lip, waiting for his answer. “Did you really need it?” he teased. I reached across the table, took him by the hand, and met his eyes. “I should have listened to you when you warned me about Ben. You are the one person in this world who has always had my back. So, yes. I actually need your approval very much.” Tears welled in my uncle’s eyes and he closed his hand around mine. “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy. Follow your heart, Emily. And I’ll watch your back.”
*** Principal Matthews stepped up to the microphone and attempted to quiet the crowd. The entire school was packed into the school auditorium, along with more than half of the kids’ parents. Ethan had followed through on his promise to treat the kids; the Stallions’ starting lineup was on the stage. “Boys and girls, if you’ll just settle down we can get started. The longer it takes you to get quiet, less time you’ll have on the field,” Matthews warned. “I think our real problem is the parents,” Linda whispered, leaning into my shoulder. I nodded and looked out over the crowd. Every kindergartener had a parent at the assembly, leaving Linda and me with no immediate responsibilities. We stood at the back of the room with Melissa, who was covering the assembly for the station. “It was so sweet of Ethan to put all of this together,” Linda continued. “The kids will remember this for the rest of their lives.” “It looks great for the team too,” Melissa added with a wink. “Not to mention it gives me more air time. Have I told you lately how much I like your new boyfriend?” “Maybe once or twice,” I teased. When Ethan learned that the station was limiting Melissa’s sports assignments, he’d taken it upon himself to do something about it. He called in a favor with his stepfather, who in turn called the station. I’m not sure of the words exchanged, but the next day Melissa was called into her boss’ office and told she was the station’s official Stallions correspondent. “I can’t believe how much better he looks,” Linda observed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d never guess he was hurt.” The room was finally quiet and Principal Matthews introduced Ethan. The room erupted in applause as he stepped up to the microphone.
“He’s been pushing himself too hard. We had a huge fight about it this morning,” I confided. “That’s a football player for you,” Melissa explained. “I know you’re worried about him, Emily. But Ethan’s tough. I’m sure he can handle more than you realize.” “He may be tougher than most people. But his bones don’t heal any faster,” I countered, shaking my head. The doctors cleared Ethan for light exercise and I’d woken up that morning to find him bench pressing heavy weights. We’d had a knockdown drag out over the definition of ‘light exercise’ and I’d left the house angry. Linda raised a curious eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?” “A little,” I confessed. “It’s nothing devastating. He’s stubborn, I’m stubborn. Sometimes we butt heads. He is adorable though, isn’t he?” I asked, grinning up at the stage. Ethan was giving the room an enthusiastic speech about taking pride in your abilities, and all eyes were fixed on him with rapt attention. “Yes, he’s adorable,” Melissa agreed, rolling her eyes. “I’m going to slip out and use the restroom.” “I’ll join you,” Linda whispered. They both looked at me and I shook my head. “I’m fine here.” “We’ll be right back,” Linda promised. They snuck out of the auditorium while Ethan introduced Bob Palmer, the team’s leading wide receiver. I caught Ethan’s gaze as he slipped back into line and he gave me a quick wink. I felt a moment of relief, and then my blood grew hot with annoyance. “Well, well, well. Your boyfriend has some nerve, showing up here acting like he’s God’s gift,” Ben whispered. His arm brushed against mine as he eased up beside me. I instinctively pulled away, refusing to look at him. “He’s doing no such thing,” I hissed. A group of parents looked over their shoulders and I felt my face flush with embarrassment. This is the last place I should lose my temper. “Whatever,” Ben pressed on, raising his voice. Unlike me, he didn’t seem to care if we drew an audience. “You know what, Em? You’re a hypocritical bitch.” I finally faced him, took him by the arm and marched him into the hallway before he had a chance to embarrass me any further. Once we were alone, I backed him into the wall and jammed a finger into his chest. “I don’t know what the fuck your problem is,” I hissed. “But you don’t get to talk to me like that. I didn’t go to Matthews after you cornered me in the breakroom. But I swear to God, Ben. If you don’t back off, I’ll have your job.”
“What are you going to do?” he snarled. “Have your boyfriend’s daddy buy the school and fire me?” “I won’t have to involve Ethan at all. What you’re doing is harassment, and it’s against the law.” “You act so high and mighty. I actually felt guilty for hurting you. But that’s not what happened at all, was it? I bet you were relieved when you found me with Becky. You got to make me out as the bad guy, and you were free to whore yourself to McAlister.” I was outraged by his words, so I decided to hit him below the belt. I glared at him with mocking sympathy and took a few steps back. “Poor, Ben. You’re jealous, aren’t you? You thought you were the big bad man, living the dream with a devoted girlfriend and plenty of sex on the side. I forgot that you’ve already had to settle for your plan B. I bet you can’t stand it that I’m with a real man now. Ethan’s living out all of your wildest dreams. And you’re stuck here, alone.” “You’re going to be alone soon, too,” he retorted, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. “Do you really not understand how professional ball players operate? Let me break it down for you, sweetheart. You’re the home girl. You may get more of Ethan’s time than the others, but you’re far from the only pussy in the lineup. There are women all over this country just counting the days until the Stallions play their home team.” I shook my head and backed away from him. “I don’t know why I even bothered. You’re not worth the time or the energy. My relationship with Ethan is none of your fucking business. And you’re the last person I feel the need to explain myself to.” “Is everything okay, darling?” My body instinctively relaxed at the sound of Ethan’s voice. I met his eyes as he stepped out of the auditorium and gave him a reassuring nod. “Everything’s fine.” He put a protective arm around my shoulder and glared at Ben. “Are you sure?” he asked me. “I saw you two step out here. When you didn’t come right back, I got worried.” “I’m positive. Ben here was just explaining to me how many women you have spread out across the country. He says I’ll be crawling back to him in no time. Isn’t that right, Ben?” Ben’s face turned an alarming shade of red and a thick blue vein popped up on his forehead. He glared at me, unable to form words. Ethan raised an amused eyebrow. “Is that so? Did you inform Ben that our relationship is none of his damn business?” “I did,” I agreed, my voice light and easy. “But he doesn’t seem to be getting the picture. I’m afraid I may just have to report him to Principal Matthews.” Ethan shook his head. “I don’t think that will be necessary. Ben’s going to leave you alone from now on. Because Ben understands that if he doesn’t, a lot more than his job will be at stake.”
“Are you threatening me?” Ben growled. Ethan met his question with exaggerated shock. “Threatening you? Of course not. I’m simply reassuring Emily, my girlfriend, that you won’t be giving her any more problems.” Ethan dropped his arm from my shoulder and took three steps toward Ben, backing him into the wall again. Ben’s entire body tensed and I wondered if he was about to wet his pants. Ethan put his good hand against the wall and leaned into Ben, towering over him. “She isn’t going to have any more problems with you, is she Ben?” Ethan asked, his voice low. Ben glared from me to Ethan before dropping his eyes to the floor. “No,” he whispered. Ethan lifted his other hand and cupped it behind his ear. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.” Ben cleared his voice and straightened his shoulders. “No. I’m not going to cause any more problems. She isn’t worth my time.” Ethan nodded and finally backed away. “I’m glad we’ve reached that understanding.” A rush of pride washed over me as Ethan wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back toward the auditorium. “Thanks for the rescue,” I muttered under my breath. “If we were anywhere else, I’d have knocked that bastard’s teeth in,” he whispered as we stepped back into the crowd. “And I meant what I said. If that asshole bothers you again, I’ll make sure he regrets it for the rest of his life. Are you sure you’re okay? He didn’t hurt you? Where were the girls?” We eased against the back wall unnoticed, the crowd’s attention still on the rest of the team. “They went to the bathroom. Melissa’s probably touching up her makeup before her on camera stuff. I had to drag Ben out before he made a scene, but I’m fine. I’m better than fine. I’m sorry I was such a bitch this morning. Thanks for having my back.” Ethan let out a soft sigh. “Don’t call yourself a bitch. I’m the one who overreacted. You’ve been amazing these past few weeks, Em. You have every right to be upset at me for pushing myself when you’re the one who has to take care of me if I get hurt. I guess it’s just taking me a little time to adjust to having someone to be accountable to. I promise to do better next time.” “Me too,” I agreed, curling into his side. We held each other for a few long moments and Ethan cleared his throat. “You know Ben’s full of shit, right? About the girls in every city, I mean. I know plenty of players like that. But I’m not one of them.” “I never, for a second, thought you were,” I assured him.
“I love you, Emily,” he whispered. “This may not be the best place to say that for the first time. But I can’t not say it for a second longer. I have fallen completely, desperately in love with you.” I felt as if my heart would soar out of my chest. I opened my mouth to tell him I felt the same, and my friends chose the exact wrong time to reappear. “Hey,” Melissa beamed. “Are they about to wrap up?” Ethan nodded at her with a reluctant smile. “Yes. As soon as D’Angelo’s finished speaking, we’ll be ready to move outside.” The playground had been transformed into a training field, and the players were going to teach the kids some of their practice drills. “Why don’t Ethan and I head out there and double check that everything’s set up?” I suggested. “Sounds good,” Ethan agreed. “We’ll see you two outside.” We slipped away from them before they had a chance to protest. Ethan turned down the hallway toward the double glass doors, but I pulled him into the empty gymnasium and planted a firm, passionate kiss on his lips. I pulled away and stared into his eyes. “I love you too.”
CHAPTER SIX
“These are fantastic seats,” Claudia gushed. “I’ve always loved football, but I’ve never been to a professional game. I never imagined my first time would be in a VIP box on Thanksgiving!” “This is quite the spread,” Uncle Walt agreed, filling his plate with smoked salmon from the buffet line. I stood in front of the crepe station, waiting for my breakfast. We had half an hour until kick-off, and I was anxious to get back to our box. I knew Victor and Martha were nearby, and the last thing my nerves needed was a run in with Ethan’s disapproving parents. “I can’t believe Melissa would rather be on the field,” Linda commented. She covered her French toast and sausage with a heavy layer of maple syrup and grabbed a handful of napkins. “I’d trade places with her in a heartbeat, if I didn’t prefer the company up here,” Henry told her with a love struck smile. Everyone I care about is happy right now. Uncle Walt has finally found a wonderful woman. Linda and Henry are on their way to happily ever after. Melissa’s career has finally taken the turn she’s been waiting for. God, please let us stay this way forever. And keep Ethan safe while he’s on the field. The chef topped my blueberry crepes with whipped crème and passed me the plate. I tossed on a few slices of crisp bacon and glanced around the buffet line before leading everyone back to our box. We sank down into the comfortable, overstuffed leather furniture while our private bartender took our drink orders. Normally, I’d never have alcohol so early in the day. But it was a holiday, and I needed something stronger than food to calm my nerves. We all ordered blood orange mimosas and turned our attention to the field. “I’m sure Ethan will be just fine,” Claudia assured me. “His bones have healed. He’s a strong guy.” “I hope so.” My stomach twisted in anxiety. The bartender passed out our drinks and we ate in silence until our plates were clean. A cocktail waitress popped into the box and cleared our dishes just as the head announcer welcomed everyone to the stadium. We moved to the stadium seats directly in front of our window and watched Ethan walk to the middle of the field for the coin toss. He lost, and I prayed it wasn’t an omen for the rest of the game. The Stallions were playing Dallas, Ethan’s old team, and I knew he’d take a loss as a personal failure. My prayers were futile. The Dallas offense ran roughshod over the Stallion’s defensive line and scored their first touchdown just three plays into the game. Their defense was even more formidable. They held Ethan to just four yards before taking possession of the
ball for the second time. “I’m sure it’s just a rough start, Emily,” Walt assured me. “Ethan needs a few plays to get back in the swing of things. He’ll settle in and start kicking ass in no time.” Ethan’s next toss landed in the arms of a Dallas lineman, who turned around and ran in for a sixty-yard touchdown. “You were saying?” I asked with a defeated sigh. I signaled the bartender for a refill and asked him to keep them coming. Remember what Melissa said… there’s no telling how many cameras are pointed at me right now. I can’t overreact to anything that happens on the field. I straightened my shoulders and smoothed the front of my pink and silver Stallion’s jersey. The bartender brought me my drink, and I watched the rest of the first half without really paying attention to what was happening. When the teams filed off of the field, I finally glanced at the scoreboard. Dallas was leading by three touchdowns. Cheerleaders from both teams danced across the field and I rose to my feet. “I’m getting more food. Does anyone want anything?” “I’d take one of those salt bagels with some lox and cream cheese,” Walt called after me. “I’ll come with you,” Linda insisted and linked her arm through mine as we stepped into the vast hallway. “It sort of looked like you zoned out in there,” she observed under her breath. “I feel stuck,” I confessed. “I know people are watching me watch Ethan. I’m afraid to react to what’s happening on the field, so I stopped paying attention.” “It’s not that bad, Emily,” she assured me. “I mean, no one likes to lose. But it’s not the end of the world.” “To Ethan it is. The Stallions lost every game they played without him. He feels like their losing streak is his fault and he’s determined to turn the season around. I think he also feels the need to prove himself to his old teammates. If they don’t come back in the second half, Ethan will be devastated.” “It won’t be the first time he’s lost a game,” she reminded me. “And lucky for him, he has a hot, sexy girlfriend to make him feel better.” I blushed and turned my attention to the buffet line. While my uncle’s bagel toasted, I loaded my plate with eggs Benedict and fresh fruit. “You really are nervous,” Linda observed. “I’ve never seen you eat like this.” “You should probably fix another plate too. Something tells me Thanksgiving at Ethan’s might be canceled,” I warned. Linda took my advice and filled another plate. We returned to the box just as the halftime performance was wrapping up. “Here you go,” I sang, forcing myself to sound cheerful as I passed Uncle Walt his
plate. “I went ahead and grabbed a little of everything, in case anyone else gets hungry during the second half.” I pointed to the overwhelming selection on the dish. “Good thinking ahead, kiddo,” he replied. He popped a grape into his mouth and put an arm around me. “I was just telling Claudia that I’m sure the team is going to come back strong in the second half.” “I think we should stop talking before we put some sort of jinx on the rest of the game.” I stared at my plate, wondering if my stomach would protest more food. “Since when are you superstitious?” he asked, an eyebrow cocked in curiosity. “Since I’m going to have a city full of people insisting I’m bad luck if this game doesn’t end well,” I answered dryly. “Don’t let the talk get to you, sweetheart.” He squeezed my shoulder but didn’t say another word about the game. The second half wasn’t as bad as the first; it was worse. Ethan threw interception after interception. By the beginning of the fourth quarter, the announcers were wondering out loud if his concussion had caused him to forget he no longer played for Dallas. The Stallions lost the game by their widest margin of the season and trooped off the field in defeat. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Uncle Walt offered, his arm still around my shoulders. I was crushed by the loss but relieved that the game was finally over. I took a deep breath and rose to my feet. “It’s okay. Like you said earlier, it will just take him some time to fall back into the swing of things. Why don’t you guys head home and relax for an hour or so, and then head to Ethan’s house? I’m going to try to slip into the locker room and make sure he’s feeling okay.” “Are you sure he’ll still be up for company?” Claudia asked. “No,” I confessed. “But I’m hoping for the best.” “Just let us know, sweetheart. If Ethan needs some alone time, we can move dinner to my place,” Uncle Walt insisted. “Sure,” I agreed and headed out of the box. “Happy Thanksgiving, everyone. I’ll talk to you soon.” I left the VIP box and rode an elevator down to the ground floor of the stadium. As Melissa had predicted, most people in the crowd looked at me like a pariah. I drew stares, sneers, and even a few verbal insults, but I didn’t care. I needed to make sure Ethan was alright. I found Melissa a few feet away from the locker room entrance. “Hey, Em. Rough game, huh?” she greeted me with a frown. “That’s an understatement. Have you seen Ethan?” “I think he’s still out on the field talking to the national networks. He already gave me a soundbite. I’m waiting for Coach Shields, and then I’m getting out of here. Do you think we’re still on for dinner?”
“You probably have a better idea about that than I do. How’s he taking this?” “He’s pissed off,” Melissa answered, her voice blunt. “Everyone else is going home. I’ll see what Ethan wants to do and get back to you.” The coach emerged from the locker room with three assistants following at his heels. “Alright, Melissa. Let’s get this over with. I have tapes to watch.” He continued down the hallway without slowing down and Melissa took off after him, waving goodbye over her shoulder. I walked through the wide tunnel and out onto the field. I spotted Ethan on the sidelines, just as Melissa told me I would. But he wasn’t talking to any reporters. From where I stood, it didn’t look like he was doing much talking at all. Ethan sat on a white plastic folding chair with a busty blonde Dallas cheerleader in his lap. What the fuck is going on? I stepped back into the darkness of the tunnel and kept my eyes on Ethan. From a distance, I could make out that the woman was stroking his face. He kept shaking his head, but I couldn’t see his expression so I had no idea what was happening. I stood there watching them for what seemed like hours. Finally, the blonde untangled herself from my boyfriend and returned to the rest of her squad. Ethan stood and started to cross the field, and I stepped back out of the tunnel. Relief filled his face when he saw me. “Thank God. Seeing you is the only thing that could possibly make me feel better right now.” He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “I played terrible. I’m sorry you had to sit through that.” He kissed the top of my head, careful not to drip any sweat on me. He smelled like dirt, salt, and fresh sod. “How are you feeling?” I asked. “Physically, I mean.” “I’m fine,” he assured me. “But I’m ready to get the hell out of here. Just let me pop into the locker room and pull off these pads. I’ll shower at home. Did you tell everyone to just head to the house?” “I wasn’t sure if you were still in the mood for company,” I explained, following him back down the tunnel. “It’s Thanksgiving. And it’s our first holiday together. I don’t want a shitty game to ruin the rest of the day.” He kissed my forehead. “I love you, Em. Wait here. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the locker room and I slid down onto a bench. I sent a group text telling everyone that dinner was still on, then pretended to be enthralled by my phone to avoid the stares of the fans around me. Ethan never mentioned being involved with one of the Dallas cheerleaders. But it’s not like I didn’t know what I was signing up for. What I almost walked up on had to have been innocent. He’s too at ease to be up to something. I realized that was the same lie I told myself when Ben started acting strange. But I also knew that Ethan was nothing like Ben. We hadn’t gone into much detail with each other when it came to our histories with other people. But Ethan had acknowledged that
he’d taken advantage of no strings attached sex when the opportunity presented itself. I wasn’t a complete stranger to one-night stands, so I wasn’t exactly in a place to judge. Maybe she’s just an old friend. Maybe they used to hook up. All that matters is that Ethan and I are together now. I know he’s devastated. But he’s setting his pain aside to make this a special holiday for me. The least I can do is give him the benefit of the doubt with the blonde. Ethan stepped out of the locker room in his game pants and a white sleeveless t-shirt. He held his gym bag in one hand and reached for me with the other. “Ready to go home?” I nodded and stepped into his embrace. “Yes. Let’s go home.”
*** Ethan did a fantastic job of pretending that nothing was wrong while my friends and family were over for Thanksgiving dinner. Everyone silently agreed that we’d had more than enough football for the day, so we turned the television to a Friends marathon while we moved around the kitchen. Ethan’s house still had its original floorplan, which was the opposite of open concept. Fortunately, the kitchen had been made with a staff in mind, so there was plenty of room for a large table and a wall mounted TV. I’d cheated and ordered the turkey from a local deli, but Melissa and I were making all of the sides from scratch. Linda kept the cocktails flowing, and everyone relaxed, played cards, and studied the renovation plans Ethan had finalized during his injury. Conversation flowed smoothly and before I realized it, it was well past sundown. Linda and Henry left to get in line for the Black Friday sales; everyone else slowly followed, finally leaving Ethan and me alone. That’s when I realized he wasn’t as okay as he’d been letting on. “I’m going to watch film,” he told me, padding toward his office. “I’ll be at it all night. You may as well just go home.” “Are you sure?” I called after him. “Like you said earlier, it’s our first holiday together.” “Yes,” he said, his back still turned to me. “It’s our first holiday together, and we spent it together. And now I need to stay up all night to catch up on what I should have been focusing on all along. The team is having a losing season. If we don’t turn things around, the playoffs are out of the question. I don’t mean to be an asshole, Emily. But I’ve really got to get some work done.” “And you want me to leave?” I pressed with a hurt frown. “No, I don’t want you to leave. But right now, I can’t afford the distraction of having you here.” Images of the blonde flashed through my head, but I decided not to confront him with my suspicions. I wanted to learn more about her, about them, on my own before I asked him any questions.
“Fine, I’ll go. Linda and I have that early education workshop in Salem this weekend,” I reminded him. “We’re leaving late tomorrow night and we’ll be home early Sunday. I’ll call you when I get back to town.” I wanted Ethan to argue and insist that we had to see each other before I left. But he didn’t. Instead, he gave me a quick, emotionless peck and told me to have a good time. I left the house feeling more defeated than Ethan had looked after the game. Ethan’s mood didn’t seem to improve at all over the weekend. I texted him between classes and seminars, and he always sent a quick, polite reply. But I felt a strange distance growing between us, and I wasn’t sure how to handle it. On Saturday night, I told Linda what I’d seen after the Thanksgiving game. She immediately packed our things, checked out of our hotel room, and drove me back to Portland. She spent the trip alternating between assuring me that everything would be okay and vowing to castrate Ethan if he turned out to be a cheater. I spent the trip googling the cheerleader on my tablet. Her name was Susannah Cross. She was just nineteen years old. Ethan’s last year with Dallas had been her first. Other than that, I wasn’t really able to find much information about her. When Linda pulled up outside my apartment, I was sure we’d made a huge mistake coming home early. “If I show up unannounced at Ethan’s, he’ll feel like I don’t trust him,” I insisted, my fingers twisting in my lap. “Emily, I really doubt there’s ever been anything between Ethan and Susannah,” she assured me again. “I mean, he’s ten years older than her. It’s one thing to like your women young. But that young is just one step above pedophile. I think there’s something else behind Ethan’s attitude. And I think the sooner you talk it out, the better.” “I’m sorry we had to cut the trip short. I know you were looking forward to our shopping day.” “Don’t worry about it. Henry will be thrilled to find out I didn’t get a chance to spend any money. Go talk to Ethan, Emily. And let me know how it goes.” “I’ll check in soon,” I promised. I climbed out of Linda’s car, fetched my overnight bag from her trunk, and walked wearily up my staircase. I dropped everything on my coffee table and sank down on my sofa with my phone. “Linda and I came home early. Feel like company?” Ethan replied within seconds. “Sure.” Well, he could have been a little more enthusiastic. But it’s better than “I need to work.” I pulled my hair into a high bun, took a quick shower to rinse off from the drive, and threw on a comfortable, Stallion blue sweat suit. I wasn’t sure if I’d be returning home that night or not, so I grabbed my overnight bag again and left the apartment. When I arrived at Ethan’s, I left the bag in my backseat and stepped tentatively to the
front door. I rang the bell and waited on the porch. A few moments later, Ethan appeared and ushered me into the house. “Baby, you don’t have to ring the bell,” he instructed. “How was the conference? Why did you guys come home early?” “The conference was fine. We came home early because… because…” I’d worked out a whole speech during my drive over. But in front of Ethan, words failed me. I was terrified my suspicions were true. Ethan lowered his voice and pulled me down beside him on the sofa. “Emily, what’s going on? Did something happen in Salem? Holy fuck, did Ben corner you again?” “No,” I assured him, shaking my head. “Ben hasn’t so much as looked at me since the day of the assembly. Linda and I came home early because I saw you and Susannah Cross together on Thanksgiving and haven’t been able to get it off of my mind since.” Ethan’s face turned bright red and he sank back against the sofa. “I wish you’d have said something Thursday. Susannah and I are just friends, Emily. We’ve never been anything more. For Christ’s sake, she’s a child.” I turned toward him and twirled a stray strand of hair around my finger, doing my best to keep my voice level. “That’s what I’ve been telling myself. But after everyone left Thursday night, you got so distant, so cold. You literally shoved me out of the house without even a good kiss goodbye. You shut me out, Ethan. What the hell was I supposed to think?” Ethan tensed his shoulders. “You were supposed to believe me when I said I had a lot of work to do. Look around, Emily. Does it look like I’ve been having fun with a cheerleader all weekend?” I pulled my eyes off of him and surveyed the room. Two laptops sat on the coffee table, both with field footage paused on the screens. The television on the wall was replaying a third game, and scraps of paper with notes and diagrams cluttered the floor around us. Discarded sports bottles and fast food wrappers put the final touch on the ambiance. “Every waking moment I haven’t been at practice, I’ve been on this couch studying film for our upcoming games. I lost focus while I was hurt, and Dallas snuck up on me. I won’t let that happen again. I can’t afford to.” “Football isn’t everything,” I reminded him impatiently and regretted the words immediately. “Don’t you think I know that?” he countered, his eyes narrowed, voice harsh. “I wake up every day knowing that I’m one bad hit away from retirement. That’s why I finished college before going pro, and why I’ve invested more of my money than I’ve spent. Football isn’t everything, and it’s fleeting. But it also happens to be what I’m best at. I’m capable of breaking every league record that exists for quarterbacks, as long as I accept nothing less than perfection from myself.” “And what am I supposed to do with myself while you’re chasing your records and
perfection?” I asked and took a deep breath. “I want a partner, Ethan. I want to know that no matter what happens, we always have each other at the end of the day. How am I supposed to feel like that if you shut me out when things get tough? So you had a bad game. You need to focus on film. I understand all of that. But what I don’t understand is why you can’t have me under the same roof. Did you ever stop to think that I might want to help you? I don’t know a ton about game strategy. But I could have at least made sure you had something better than Taco Shack for dinner.” Sad, frustrated tears fell from my eyes and Ethan met my gaze with a blend of awe and confusion. “I’m so sorry, Emily. You’re absolutely right. I thought I was doing you a favor by asking you to leave. I know I can be difficult to deal with sometimes. I was trying to spare you from my terrible mood. In my defense, I’ve never had someone who genuinely wanted to take care of me. I promise I’ll never take that for granted.” He leaned in and kissed me softly on the cheek. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I wasn’t trying to shut you out. And if I’d known you saw me with Susannah after the game, I would have explained the situation immediately. I wish you’d have said something about it on Thursday.” “You did an excellent job of pretending everything was fine after the game. I didn’t want to ruin the rest of the day with accusations. I mean, it wasn’t like I caught the two of you sucking face. Though she did look way too comfortable in your lap.” “Susannah is like a little sister to me,” he explained. “She went through a tough breakup with one of my Dallas teammates last season, around the same time I was injured. We got to know each other pretty well on the sidelines. When you saw us, we were getting caught up on each other’s new relationships.” “When I realized how young she is, I knew it had to be innocent. But before then…” “You wondered if I was like Ben,” he finished. I nodded. “I’m sorry. You’re right, I should have said something on Thursday instead of letting it fester.” Ethan held me in his arms and looked down at me, his eyes heavy and serious. “Emily, I need you to know that I would never hurt you like that. I’m not Ben. I’m not perfect, but I love you.” “I love you too. I trust you, Ethan. But you can’t shut me out when things get tough,” I told him again. “You said you know football is fleeting and the reason you finished school before going pro and why you invest your money. You’re planning for a future after your football career. Do you want me to be a part of that future?” “Of course I do,” he answered immediately. “Then I need you to invest in us. I know you’re busy. I know there will be days and weeks when we don’t get to spend much time together. But that’s exactly why we have to take advantage of the time we do have.” Ethan nodded and lowered his lips to mine. “No more shutting you out. I promise. I
would have loved to have you here these past few days. To be honest, I was afraid I’d sound like an ass if I asked you to stay and take care of me. Think about it. ‘Hey baby, how about you feed and clean up after me while I ignore you and watch football tapes.’ You have to admit, it isn’t the most romantic proposition.” “It’s not,” I agreed, relief making me feel giddy. “And don’t get me wrong, I have no intentions of becoming your personal caretaker. But when things are tough, I’d rather be here helping however I can than alone wondering if you’re okay. And keep in mind, this street runs two ways. You’ll get to return the favor in the days leading up to parent-teacher conferences, field trips, and the entire last month of school,” I warned with a grin. “Give and take, huh?” Ethan countered with a smile of his own. “I think I can handle that. Now that we’ve sorted all of this out, why don’t we take advantage of our time like you suggested earlier?” He gave me a sexy grin and pulled me back into his arms. He rose to his feet, carrying me toward the veranda instead of the bedroom. “Where are we going?” He nuzzled his lips against my cheek. “I have a surprise for you.” I wrapped my arms around Ethan’s neck while he fumbled with the doorknob. He carried me outside and I heard a strange hum from the direction of the pool. I turned toward the noise and saw a brand new spa. “When did this happen?” I asked. “I had the hole dug last week while you were at school. The crew came out and buried the tub on Friday, and the concrete just set this morning. I was waiting for you to try it out for the first time.” “I don’t have a suit,” I argued mindlessly. Ethan laughed and set me on my feet. “For what I have in mind, you don’t need one.” Desire spiraled its way through me. “Right.” I unzipped the hoodie of my sweat suit and pushed it down my arms. Ethan kicked off his shorts and eased into the hot tub, his eyes locked on me as I stripped out of the rest of my clothes. The chill in the air was no damper for the burning desire growing in my body. I stepped across the patio and joined Ethan, who pulled me into his lap beneath the bubbling water. His stiff cock rested against my back and he lifted both hands to my breasts. When he dropped his lips to the back of my neck, I let out a long sigh of pleasure. “I missed you,” he groaned into my ear. “I missed you too,” I mumbled in agreement. Ethan dropped one hand beneath the water and gently stroked my magic button. I let my legs fall open, aching to be filled. He obliged, pushing two fingers inside me. I arched my back against his chest, rocking my ass cheeks against his cock as his fingers moved deeper. “I want you,” I moaned desperately. “I want you inside me.”
“All in good time, baby,” he teased, stroking me harder. I covered his hand with mine and closed my legs around his touch. His fingers twisted and turned, finally falling on my G-spot. He held hard, almost painful pressure and I lost all control of my body as the orgasm overpowered me. Water splashed into my eyes and mouth as I flailed in wild passion. Ethan laughed and slowed his hand, pulling me tightly against his chest. “Are you okay?” he gasped, holding me above the water. “I didn’t consider this might be a drowning hazard.” “Very funny,” I replied through struggled breaths. “Was I really that bad?” “Baby, that was the opposite of bad,” he teased. “But yeah, for a second there I thought you were about to push us both under.” I turned in his lap, positioning myself just above his cock. I dropped my head to his neck and covered it with long, lustful kisses. Then, I moved my lips to his, barely brushing them together. “I guess you’ll have to keep better control of me this time,” I teased, letting the tip of his cock slide inside me. I held myself there for a moment until I couldn’t take it anymore. I let myself fall, taking in every inch of him. “You’re so tight and hot,” Ethan groaned, gripping my ass with both hands. “I can’t get enough of you,” I said against his lips, rising and falling as fast as my legs would lift me. Before long, I was sweating and light headed, but I had no intentions of stopping. Ethan was exactly where I wanted him. I didn’t care if the hot water made me pass out, as long as we stayed connected. My body started to tingle from a blend of lust and exhaustion, and Ethan suddenly pushed me out of his lap. “It’s sweltering in here,” he said, brushing sweat from his brow with one arm. He climbed out of the hot tub, grabbed a nearby towel, and helped me out of the spa. He wrapped me in the soft cotton, picked me up, and set off for the house. “I liked my surprise,” I cooed, nuzzling my lips into his neck. “I’m glad. But I started to think we were both going to pass out,” he explained with a laugh. He stumbled into the bedroom and dropped me on the mattress. I threw off the towel and wiggled to the head of the bed. Ethan crawled in front of me, pushed my legs open, and buried his tongue inside me. He licked and teased, sucking my clit roughly before pulling away again and driving his cock into me. “Oh, Ethan,” I groaned, biting my lip to keep from crying out louder. “Give it to me.” He thrust his hips harder, sliding all but the head of his cock out of me before impaling me again. He lowered his lips, biting and teasing my collarbone between long, passionate kisses. I felt his cock tremble, and he slipped out of me again. “I want to make this last,” he explained, collapsing onto his back. I rolled over and climbed on top of him, letting his cock rest against my thigh.
“We can make it last as long as you want,” I agreed. I stroked his face, tracing the outline of his lips with my thumb. He shifted his legs, angling his cock at my waiting tunnel. I backed into him slowly, taking in the full length of his shaft before stilling my hips. I let my body fall against Ethan’s chest and he stroked my back with a light, teasing touch. I clenched and released my pussy in rhythm with Ethan’s breaths. “That feels so good,” he said, rocking into me roughly and then going still again. I nodded and pushed myself off his chest, swiveling my hips in soft circles. Ethan grabbed my ass again, lifting his mouth to my breasts. He bit and sucked my nipples in turn as I rode him, harder and faster with each thrust of his hips. He slapped my ass roughly and the surprise shock of pain was all I needed to reach my second release. I gushed with satisfaction and Ethan thrust into me harder. “Turn around,” he said. I obeyed, spinning on his cock without releasing it. He rose to his knees, pushing me onto all fours. I bucked back against him as he drilled into me and soon, he let out a loud, cat-like growl and spilled his seed inside me. We collapsed together on the bed, our bodies spent with exhaustion. After a while, our breaths evened and Ethan pulled me into his arms. “We smell like chlorine,” he observed with a light laugh. I nodded. “And sweat. You were right, the spa was too hot.” “In retrospect, that wasn’t a well thought out plan. Believe me, I intend to do much better next time.” “I think we did it pretty good this time,” I teased. He laughed and planted a soft kiss on my lips. “I really did miss you, Em. I’m glad you came home from Salem early. Now, why don’t you let me take you to the shower and wash this terrible bleach smell away?” I met his eyes and gave him a cocky smile. “Only if I get to have my way with you again.” He laughed and set off for the bathroom. “I think that can be arranged.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
A few weeks later, I sat at my desk and stared out at my empty classroom. My kids were at their weekly music class, giving me my first moment of silence for what seemed like ages. The Stallions’ losing streak was blissfully short. The week after they lost to Dallas, they slaughtered Philadelphia. Ethan became even more focused on studying film and tracking the patterns of his opponents’ plays, and I did my best to give him the space he needed to concentrate. Like Uncle Walt had predicted, I spent less and less time at my place. To me, home had become wherever Ethan was. He made me happier than I ever imagined possible, and I found myself longing to be able to travel with him to away games. I settled for knowing we’d have plenty of time to travel together during my Christmas vacation. With the break quickly approaching, I was overwhelmed with extra responsibilities at school. It was my turn to organize the annual holiday program, and I was swarmed with well-intentioned parents who were determined to put their own stamp on the show. We had a record number of volunteers and the reason for so many became apparent during our first planning meeting. Since I was in charge of the program, the parents expected Ethan to play some sort of role. I promised he’d be at the actual performance, which set off a frenzy of who could outdo who on food, set design, and costumes. I felt a little guilty for using my relationship to my advantage, but it was nice to have so much help. “Knock, knock.” Linda stepped through my open door carrying two cups of coffee. She set one on my desk and sat down on my long art table. “I thought you could use a pick me up,” she explained. “How are you holding up? I know things have been hectic.” “I’ve been running around like a headless chicken,” I agreed. I took a long sip of the hot coffee and set the cardboard mug back on my desk. “This helps, though. Where are your kids?” “With Ben,” she explained, rolling her eyes. “He’s started sending his aide down for my class too. I still think it was a mistake not to report him for that shit he pulled during the assembly.” “To be honest, I couldn’t care less. He’s left me alone. He’s too scared of Ethan to corner me like that again.” Her grin held some heat in it. “I’m sure he is. But I’d still be happier if his smug, lying ass was fired. I think it would change the whole tone of the school, to be honest. And if Matthews knew he’s been screwing the kids’ moms…” “Moms? As in plural?” I asked, raising a curious eyebrow. “Do you know something I don’t?” “I heard he’s been messing around with Mrs. Phillips,” she confided. “You know Mr.
Phillips is always traveling with his job. Word is that Ben’s been taking advantage of his absence.” “He really is a sleazy bastard,” I said, cringing. “I can’t believe I ever let him touch me. How was I the only one who couldn’t see through him?” “Don’t beat yourself up, Emily. I didn’t realize he was an asshole. I just thought he was boring,” she reminded me. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m glad I caught him cheating on me. If I hadn’t, I’d still be lying to myself.” “And if you’d never dated Ben, you might not be with Ethan,” she pointed out. “That’s how you have to look at things. If I’m not careful, I start beating myself up for leaving Henry all of those years ago. I think of all the time we wasted apart. But then, I remind myself that what I learned while we were apart is why we work this time. It’s all in how you look at it, Em.” “I know,” I agreed. “I’m just happy I don’t have to look at Ben at all. And speaking of Ethan, he’s playing in New York on New Year’s Day. We’re going to fly out a few days before and have a little mini vacation. Would you and Henry like to join us?” She shook her head. “I’d love to. But I promised Henry we’d spend the holidays back in Atlanta with his family. Maybe next time?” “Definitely,” I agreed. A knock echoed through the room and we looked at the door. “Good morning, Mrs. Carver. Can I help you with something?” I greeted one of my student’s mothers. My question was pointless; the woman had a balloon bouquet in one hand and a giant bakery box in the other. “Today is Finn’s birthday,” she explained with a sheepish blush. “I spoke with Mary this morning and she said it would be okay for me to bring a few treats for the kids. I was hoping to pass out the cupcakes myself. Will the children be back soon?” “Yes,” I assured her. “They’re in art class at the moment. But I was just about to go get them. Why don’t you set things up here?” She thanked me, nodded, and started pulling birthday hats and colorful plates out of her huge tote bag. “Did Mary happen to mention which one of Finn’s classmates has severe food allergies?” I asked, moving to the door. “Oh, shoot. I knew I forgot something. I’m so sorry… but that’s no reason for all of the other kids to miss out, right?” she asked hopefully. “It’s fine,” I assured her. “I have allergy friendly snacks in my desk. I’ll be back in just a few minutes, Mrs. Carver.” Linda followed me into the hall. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to leave her in there alone?” she asked. “What’s she going to do, steal my dry erase markers?” I asked with a laugh. “I’m not
worried about Mrs. Carver. Besides, someone must be looking out for me. I’ve forgotten to lock my door twice this week, but nothing’s turned up missing.” “That’s not like you.” She frowned, shaking her head. “Like I said, I’ve been busy,” I replied with a shrug. “Things will calm down after the first of the year. I’ll be able to relax and get into a real routine at Ethan’s.” “So you’re just moving in with him, then? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” “You sound like my uncle,” I replied with a laugh. We slowed to a stop outside the art room and I turned to her with an impatient smile. “To be honest, all I’m sure of at the moment is that I’m in no mood to corral a room full of sugared up kids. But I don’t have a choice about that at the moment, so I’d like to just get it over with. Can we discuss the wisdom of my relationship choices later? Maybe over a drink?” “Sure,” she agreed with an understanding nod. “Sorry about the cupcakes. Good call on keeping things on hand for Alfie, by the way. I’m going to do that for his sister.” I nodded and knocked on the classroom door as Linda turned toward the break room. I led my students in a single file back to the classroom and made them all sit at their own desks before Mrs. Carver passed out the cupcakes and juice boxes. I passed Alfie a bag of allergy friendly trail mix. I returned to my desk and noticed the blue message light flashing on my phone. I swiped the screen and read Ethan’s text. “Don’t panic, but call me ASAP.” I glanced out at the kids, who were all happily devouring their unexpected treats. Mrs. Carver moved about the room passing out napkins and making sure everyone was settled. I decided I could spare a few minutes to make sure Ethan was okay and turned my back to the class as I hit his speed dial. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon. I told you not to panic,” he teased. “And I didn’t. You said ASAP. This was ASAP. What’s going on?” “I have terrible news,” he warned. The breath caught in my lungs. “Just tell me.” “I just got off the phone with my mother. Victor’s getting overwhelmed with questions about you and he’s tired of not knowing how to answer. They’ve invited us to dinner Friday night, so they can get to know you better.” “That’s far from a disaster,” I replied with a light laugh of relief. “It’s closer than you’d like to imagine,” he countered gravely. I was about to reply when chaos broke out in my room. The kids erupted with gasps and screams of panic and a weird thumping noise sent my heart racing. Ethan could hear the commotion on his side of the call. “Emily, what’s going on?” I turned back to the class, horrified by the scene before me. All of my students were in
hysterical sobs, save Alfie Hollis. He appeared to be having a grand mal seizure in the middle of the room, while Mrs. Carver looked on, paralyzed in horror. “I have to go,” I told Ethan. I tossed my phone on the desk and rushed to little Alfie. His body stilled, but I realized hives were breaking out across his body. By the time I retrieved his Epi-pen and returned to him, his breaths were coming in short, wheezing spurts. I gave him his shot and pulled him into my lap. “Mrs. Carver, I need you to get the nurse right away. Her office is beside Principal Matthews. Call 911 on your way and tell them that we have a five-year-old boy who’s had a severe allergic reaction.” The traumatized mother nodded at me and took her son out of the room with her. I did my best to calm the other children while trying to understand what happened. “Boys and girls, I know this is scary. But we talked about this on our first day of class, remember? Sometimes, things Alfie eats make him sick. But I’ve given him his special medicine, and Nurse Birling is going to make sure he’s okay. Now, I need to know if anyone gave Alfie a bite of their cupcake.” The kids all shook their heads. Some muttered, “No, Miss Kinkaid,” while others were still too busy crying to form words. How the hell did this happen? Nurse Birling rushed into the room with Principal Matthews and Mary, the school secretary. “What happened, Emily?” the principal asked. “I’m not sure. Mrs. Carver brought in cupcakes. I gave Alfie a bag of trail mix that’s safe for him to eat, but I guess he gave in to the urge to taste what the other kids were eating. Where is Mrs. Carver?” “She told us what happened and then checked Finn out for the rest of the day,” Mary explained. “I called an ambulance, then Mrs. Hollis. Alfie’s parents are going to meet him at the hospital.” Nurse Birling took Alfie’s vital signs and stared up at me with a frown. “How much time passed between the start of the reaction and Alfie getting his shot?” “I’m not sure,” I confessed, my face flushing hot, and my fingers trembling as I pressed them to my throbbing temples. Less than a minute passed between when I realized what was happening and when I gave him the shot. But how long was he in trouble before anyone noticed? Why the hell didn’t I wait to check in with Ethan? Please God, don’t let this little boy suffer for my mistake. “What do you mean you’re not sure?” Principal Matthews pressed, a hint of accusation in his voice. “I mean everything happened so fast. It’s not like I hit a stopwatch. But I’d say it was less than sixty seconds.”
Three paramedics bustled into the room and the kids started crying again. “Mary, why don’t you take the class to the auditorium?” Nurse Birling suggested. “They’ve seen more than they should have as it is.” “Of course,” Mary agreed. I helped her lead the kids to the auditorium and promised them all I’d be back soon with good news about Alfie. I raced back to my classroom, where the medics were loading him onto a stretcher. “Where are you taking him?” I demanded. “Children’s Presbyterian,” one of the men answered. “His father called dispatch and requested it. I need to take in samples of everything he ate.” “Why is that necessary?” I asked. “We know he’s allergic to dairy, and those cupcakes were covered with whipped cream.” Nurse Birling cleared her throat. “Alfie came to for a minute while you were gone. He said he didn’t eat anything but the special treat you gave him.” “People develop new allergies every day,” another medic explained. “My wife and I used the same laundry soap for nearly a decade, and then a month ago it started giving her a rash. It’s just one of those things that happens.” I nodded and retrieved the half eaten snack from Alfie’s desk. “This is what I gave him. I think there are a few untouched cupcakes left in that box. Just take the whole thing.” He nodded and grabbed the box on his way out the door. I squeezed Alfie’s hand and promised to visit him soon before the other two medics wheeled him out of the room. “I’m going to get back to the kids,” I announced, my hands still shaking. “They’re so terrified. I need to tell them that Alfie’s going to be okay.” Principal Matthews stepped into my path. “Mary has already called a substitute,” he informed me. “I’m sorry, Emily. I’m sure this incident wasn’t your fault, and as soon as the tests come back we’ll find out Alfie’s developed a new allergy. But until then, we have to follow protocols. We have to go back to my office and work through an incredibly thick stack of paperwork. And after that, I have no choice but to put you on paid suspension until we’re cleared by the school counsel.” “You’re kidding me?” I asked in disbelief, feeling lightheaded. “How long will that take?” “It depends on how long the hospital takes with the lab work. I know this is hard news to absorb, especially after such a traumatic incident. But if everything happened the way you described, you won’t be held at fault.” I cleared my throat and pushed my shoulders back. “Can I visit the hospital and check on Alfie?” “I don’t have a problem with that, as long as the Hollis family agrees.” I nodded and gathered my things from my desk. Linda stuck her head into the room
and surveyed the remnants of the chaos. “I just heard. Amaya Hollis’s uncle picked her up to take her to her family. Is there anything I can do?” “I have to go on paid suspension, pending an inquiry into what just happened. Can you keep an eye on my kids and make sure they transition okay to the sub?” “Of course. Are you okay, Em?” “I’m fine,” I assured her but wasn’t even sure myself. “This is just a formality, Linda.” Principal Matthews nodded in agreement. “Okay… is there anything else I can do?” “Yes. Call Ethan and tell him what happened. Ask him to send the best pediatric allergist he can find to Children’s Presbyterian. And tell him I’ll be home as soon as I’m finished with Principal Matthews.” “It will probably be a few hours,” Matthews warned. “I’ll let him know,” Linda promised. “And I’ll call you later.” She returned to her class and I stepped into the hallway with no idea if and when I’d see my classroom again.
*** Ethan looked up from a skillet of bacon as I padded barefoot into the kitchen. “Good morning, sweetheart. How did you sleep?” “Okay, I guess,” I replied with a yawn. “Once I finally got to sleep, that is. I laid awake half the night thinking about that poor little boy lying there helpless. If he doesn’t pull through this—” “Stop,” Ethan insisted. “Linda called an hour ago. Alfie’s oxygen stats stabilized overnight. He’s breathing all on his own, he’s alert, and there are no signs that the reaction did any lasting damage.” I let out an enormous sigh of relief and nearly crumpled to the floor. “Thank God. Have they figured out what triggered it?” He shook his head. “Not yet, but they’re expecting the lab results in this afternoon. Would you like to hear the really good news?” “It gets better?” He nodded. “The Hollis family says you’re welcome to visit.” A rush of gratitude filled my body. “Now we just have to wait for the school council to clear me. But if the lab results are due today, I may be able to go back to work tomorrow.” “I’m so sorry you had to go through this, Emily. But everything’s going to be okay.” “Thank you, baby.”
“Don’t thank me. Claudia’s the one who saved the day.” I nodded. “I can’t believe I forgot this was one of her specialties. I’m going to have to take her out to lunch and thank her for pushing the lab work through so fast.” “I think we can do better than lunch,” Ethan suggested with a grin. “But we’ll figure all of that out later. The Hollis’s are expecting us in about an hour. That gives you just enough time to go get dressed and have a quick breakfast before we need to leave.” “You’re coming with me? Don’t you have practice?” “I called Coach and told him I’d be late. I thought a visit from his favorite quarterback might make Alfie feel a little better.” I gave him a teasing smile. “Alfie’s family is from Florida. He wears a Rod Sherman jersey on free dress days. But I’m sure he’d appreciate a visit from you all the same.” Ethan laughed and gave me a playful wink. “I’ll have him converted to a Stallion’s fan before the visit is over.” I gave him a quick hug and kissed the side of his face. “Seriously baby, thank you for coming with me. It means more than you know.” “I’m happy to do it.” An hour later, Ethan and I walked into the hospital hand in hand. We rode an elevator to the eleventh floor, where a distracted nurse directed us to Alfie’s room without looking up from her tablet. When we approached his door, a uniformed security guard stepped into our path. “I’m sorry, but the family has requested that no visitors be allowed in Alfie’s room,” he explained. “What? There must be some sort of mistake. I’m Emily Kinkaid, Alfie’s teacher. The Hollis’s are expecting us.” “I’m sorry, ma’am. I know who you are. And I’m not allowed to let you into the room.” Ethan put a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Can we speak with Mr. or Mrs. Hollis? Or perhaps Dr. Verner?” “The family and the doctor are in a meeting at the moment,” the officer replied. “I’ve been instructed to ask you to wait in—” “There she is,” a voice screamed from the opposite hall. I turned to see Alfie’s mother charging at me. “We trusted you with our child, you miserable bitch. I can’t believe you did this. What kind of person does something like this?” I was at a complete loss for words. I loved my students. I’d have jumped in front of a bus to protect any of them. I’d certainly never hurt them. I had no idea what Mrs. Hollis was talking about and turned to Claudia with wide eyes. A man I didn’t recognize stood next to her, glaring at me with absolute disgust.
“I’m sorry, Emily. We just got the lab work back. The results… the results show inconsistencies with your story.” Ethan cleared his throat. “What sort of inconsistencies?” “She knows,” Mrs. Hollis growled. “She knows exactly what she did.” “I didn’t do anything,” I stammered. “I gave him his shot… I did what I was supposed to do.” Mr. Hollis was much calmer than his wife, but his rage burned just as hot. He turned his nose up at me and pulled his wife toward Alfie’s door. “Come on, sweetheart. She isn’t worth our time. The police will deal with her. Our focus needs to be on the kids.” Police? What the fuck do they think I did? What the hell is happening? Claudia cleared her throat and looked nervously toward the stranger. “Go ahead,” he prompted. “Tell her what you found.” Claudia cringed and hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Emily, I ran a full allergy prick test on Alfie last night. We didn’t find anything new.” “You said the results just came in,” Ethan interrupted. “The results on the food samples just came in,” she corrected him. “The trail mix was coated with powdered milk.” I shook my head and leaned back against the wall. “No. That’s not possible. If that’s what happened, it’s the manufacturer’s fault. I bought a whole case of that trail mix at Valley Health. Alfie never had a reaction to it before. And the package was sealed when I gave it to him.” The man cleared his throat. “We have ample evidence that the packaging was tampered with.” “Who are you?” Ethan growled. “I’m Detective Dickson. I’m here to take your pretty little girlfriend to jail. Miss Kinkaid, will you please put your hands behind your back?” “No, you’re not taking her. Emily didn’t do this,” Ethan insisted. “Emily, I’m so sorry. I had to follow protocol and alert the police. The moment you leave, I’ll call your uncle,” Claudia promised. “I know you didn’t do this, sweetheart. Something else is going on here and we’ll get to the bottom of it.” My entire body felt numb. I did as Detective Dickson instructed and felt the cold metal cuffs close over my wrists. “I didn’t do anything,” I said again, tears falling from my eyes. “You’re not walking her out of here like a criminal,” Ethan insisted. “I won’t have it. The hospital has a back entrance.” “I’ll walk her out of whichever exit I damn well please,” Dickson replied, apparently
resentful that Ethan was trying to control the situation. “Emily Kinkaid, you’re under arrest for child endangerment and attempted murder. You have the right to remain silent. If you waive that right, anything you say may be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can’t afford an attorney, the court will appoint one at no cost. Do you understand these rights as I’ve explained them?” I nodded my head, unable to wipe the tears flowing freely down my face. Ethan brushed them away with his thumb and looked into my eyes. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” I sobbed. “I didn’t do anything. You have to believe me, Ethan. Why don’t they believe me?” “Shh… I know you’d never hurt anyone,” he assured me, his voice low and soothing. “I need you to listen to me, Emily. Detective Dickson is going to take you to the station and book you on these charges. They’re going to put you in a room, say terrible things to you, and ask you lots of questions. No matter what they say, you have to stay quiet. I don’t want you to utter so much as a yes or a no. I’m going to follow in my car, and I’ll have my lawyer at the station as soon as I can. His name is Noel Baxter. Not a word to anyone until he joins you. Do you understand?” I swallowed back another sob and nodded as Detective Dickson led me away.
*** The short walk from the hospital to Detective Dickson’s unmarked sedan was the longest thirty seconds of my life. The press had somehow gotten wind of Ethan’s visit to the hospital, and a group of them had gathered outside. They swarmed us, firing questions so quickly that their words muffled each other out. I kept my head high. Ethan had warned me not to speak to anyone, so I gave them my best innocent, confused smile but remained silent. Dickson peppered me with questions as he navigated to the police station. He reminded me that I hadn’t caused any lasting damage and promised to petition the judge for leniency if I confessed and agreed to check myself into a psychiatric facility. I stayed silent for the entire trip, save one hostile snort that slipped out after he mentioned the mental hospital. My confusion and numbness wore off, turning to white hot anger. I had no idea who’d tampered with the trail mix, but I knew I was innocent. Someone set me up, and they’d endangered one of my students to do it. I resented the fact that I was the one being charged while, for all we knew, the real culprit was planning his next attack. The booking process was relatively straight forward, much like you’d see on any reality cop show. A female officer searched me, then took my picture and scanned my fingerprints into a computer. She left my hands uncuffed and led me to a small interrogation room. “Detective Dickson will be in shortly,” she advised, turning back for the door. “I’m not speaking to anyone until my lawyer is here,” I replied. I felt much more comfortable asserting myself with her than the broody, formidable detective.
“That’s a great idea,” she agreed, giving an ever so slight smile before slipping back into the hallway. She either senses I’m innocent, or she recognizes me because of Ethan. The room didn’t have one of those creepy two-way mirrors, but I still had the eerie sense that I was being watched. I’d watched enough episodes of True Crime to know that there was probably a surveillance camera pointed at me and felt pressured to act appropriately. But I had no idea what an appropriate reaction to the situation would look like. I ended up having plenty of time to practice. The female officer checked on me periodically, but five hours passed before anyone else stepped into the room. Finally, Detective Dickson returned holding a set of handcuffs. What the fuck is going on? I was convinced that the cuffs meant no one was coming for me, and that I’d have to spend the night in lockup. The detective met the fear on my face with a sneer. “Don’t worry. Unfortunately, I’m not moving you to a cell just yet. Your fancy lawyer pulled some strings and got a judge to agree to arraign you this afternoon. Regardless of the outcome, you’ll be coming back here after. I still have a lot of questions.” I nodded, but still didn’t speak. “You’re taking your right to remain silent incredibly literally,” he observed, leading me back to the parking garage. I nodded again and cleared my throat. “I don’t mean to be uncooperative,” I explained. “I’ll answer anything you ask once my lawyer is here.” He opened the back door of his sedan and I slid across the cheaply upholstered seat. He sank behind the steering wheel and drove to the courthouse without any further comment. I’d hoped to have a moment alone with my new attorney before the hearing, but the judge was ready to leave for the day so there wasn’t any time. Detective Dickson handed me off to a bailiff, who walked me to the defense table and took off my handcuffs. A tall, broad man with salt and pepper hair greeted me with a smile and a handshake. “Miss Kinkaid, I’m Frank Upton. I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. We’ll have plenty of time to talk after the hearing.” “It’s nice to meet you, Frank. Thank you for getting the arraignment scheduled so quickly. Do you think I’ll be able to go home tonight?” “That’s the plan,” he replied. I felt a firm hand on my shoulder and turned to find my uncle’s soft, concerned eyes. “Hey, kiddo. How are you holding up? I got here as soon as I could. Claudia’s parking the car, I didn’t want to miss anything.” “I can’t believe this is happening,” I confessed. The corners of my mouth twitched as I tried to hold back frustrated tears. “I know… but we’re going to get through it,” he promised.
I nodded, wiped my face with my palms, and turned back to Frank. “Where’s Ethan?” I asked with a sniffle. A look of confusion spread across his face, but before he could reply, the bailiff called the court to order. A man who didn’t look much older than me settled in behind the bench and reviewed the charges against me. I pled not guilty and Frank petitioned for bail. “Your Honor, the state objects to any bail for Miss Kinkaid pending a psychological evaluation. A young child nearly lost his life. I think we can all agree that it’s best to err on the side of caution,” the prosecutor insisted. “My client has strong ties to this community,” Frank argued. “She’s a well-respected teacher with no criminal history or past mental health issues. The state’s case is circumstantial. The police haven’t even finished reviewing video surveillance from the school’s security system. Miss Kinkaid’s arrest is a rush to judgment, Your Honor.” The judge narrowed his eyes and studied me for a few tense moments before turning to the prosecutor. “Mr. Nelson, I’m approving the defense’s motion for bail. I suggest that in the future, you bring solid evidence into my courtroom. I’m scheduling a pretrial hearing for January thirtieth. Miss Kinkaid, I’m not going to put a monitor on you. But I’m also not going to mince words. I know you’re involved with a man who has ample resources to help you disappear. If you so much as step one foot out of this county, I will revoke your bail and you’ll wait for your day in court behind bars. Do you understand?” I cleared my throat and nodded politely. “Yes, Your Honor. I assure you I have no interest in leaving town. I’m innocent of these charges and eager to clear my name.” “Bail is set at half a million dollars,” he declared, slamming his gavel onto the desk. “Court is adjourned.” We all rose to our feet as Judge Shaw stepped off of the bench and through a large oak door. The room relaxed and I turned to face my uncle. At some point during the hearing, Ethan and Claudia had joined him. I wasn’t sure who to hug first, but Ethan took a step back and let Walt have the honor. My uncle wrapped me in a bear hug and extended one hand to Frank. “Thank you so much, man. I owe you one.” “I’m happy to help,” the lawyer replied. “Next time we take the ladies out, I’ll let you pay for dinner.” “You arranged for Frank to represent me?” I asked, pulling away. When I left the hospital, I assumed Ethan would call one of his family attorneys, the Noel man he’d mentioned. It never crossed my mind that Walt might know someone who could help. “Yes, Claudia went to school with Frank’s wife, Deborah. We all get together from time to time,” Walt explained. I gave Claudia a quick hug and then fell into Ethan’s arms. He held me close and kissed the top of my head. “I’m so sorry, baby. I—” “You have nothing to be sorry for,” I insisted. “The only person who should be
apologizing is the monster who really attacked Alfie. I want to know what we do next. How do we prove that I’m innocent and, more importantly, figure out who isn’t?” “There are many steps. But unfortunately, before we discuss them, you and I have to go back to the police station. Detective Dickson wasn’t too happy to have his interrogation delayed by this hearing,” Frank warned. “Let’s get it over with,” I agreed. “I have nothing to hide. I want to cooperate with the police as much as possible so they’ll stop wasting their time with me and look for the real culprit.” “We’ll come to the station and wait to drive you home,” Walt offered. I shook my head. “There’s no sense in all of us being stuck there. I can take a taxi home.” “I can drive you,” Frank piped in. “We’ll need to talk strategy after we’re finished with the cops.” Ethan cleared his throat. “Walt, Claudia, you’re welcome to wait at my house. We can set up a command center of sorts for the case. And that way, Emily will only have to recount the interrogation once.” “That’s an excellent idea, Ethan. Thank you,” Claudia accepted with an appreciative smile. Walt didn’t seem as sold on the idea. “I think I should be at the station,” he insisted. “I won’t let anything happen to her, Walt,” Frank promised, his voice full of patience. “I see this a lot with parents. Things like this happen and you feel helpless to do anything about it. But you did the best thing you could have: you called me. I’ve got it from here, I promise.” “If anything unexpected happens, you’ll call me, right?” Walt pressed. “Of course I will,” Frank agreed. “Is there anything special you’d like for dinner, Emily?” Claudia asked, leading the conversation in a more lighthearted direction. I shook my head. “Surprise me.” “We really do need to be getting to the station,” Frank pressed. Ethan kissed the top of my head again and made me promise to call if I needed anything. I hugged Claudia and Walt, then left through the side exit with Frank. “Tell me the truth. How bad is this?” I asked once we were alone. Our footsteps echoed down the marble hallway and a slight chill filled the air. “I’ve seen worse. But I’ve seen a lot better. This is a circumstantial case, Emily. And an emotional one, considering the circumstances. A defenseless child was intentionally hurt. The natural human reaction is to demand someone pay for that. The obvious blame falls on you, since the child was in your care. I have to warn you that even if we prove your innocence, you’re likely to still be judged in the court of public opinion.”
“I know,” I agreed, covering my mouth to muffle the sob that wanted to escape. “How far has the news spread?” “The story was already trending online before I took the case. Most of the major national networks, news and sports have already run segments,” he replied matter of factly. “So even if I somehow manage to keep my teaching license, I’m basically unemployable?” Damn it. I love Ethan. But there are definitely disadvantages to living in the spotlight. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, Emily. For now, let’s just concentrate on the task at hand.” We stepped into the parking lot and I was relieved to find it photographer free. Frank ushered me into a black Cadillac SUV and turned toward the police station. “What did you tell the cops while you were in custody?” he asked. “I said I would cooperate fully, but not until my attorney was present.” “That’s it?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “No professions of innocence or polite small talk that could possibly be misconstrued?” “A female officer offered me coffee a couple of times. I said no. That’s the extent of it. It was hard to keep my mouth shut,” I confessed. “Especially when Detective Dickson started suggesting that I’m some sort of psychopath. But I kept my cool.” “I wish all my clients had your restraint. You did exactly what you were supposed to do, Emily. When we sit down with Dickson, just follow my lead. I promise to get to the bottom of this as quickly as possible so you can get back to your life.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Miss Kinkaid, Mr. Upton, thank you for coming back this evening,” Detective Dickson greeted us as he stepped into a larger interrogation room. This one had the twoway mirror and I couldn’t help but wonder how many people were watching us. “We have every intention of cooperating with this investigation,” Frank replied, shaking the detective’s hand. “Please don’t take Miss Kinkaid’s earlier silence personally. She was instructed not to speak to anyone until I was here.” “You’ll be happy to know she barely uttered a word,” he said, his lip curling in disgust. “This is my colleague, Detective Masterson.” A short, pale man with curly red hair stepped into the room behind Dickson, filling the room with the sickly sweet aroma of chewing tobacco. “Detective,” Frank greeted him with a nod. Masterson glared back at him, not offering a handshake as his partner had. Shit. If Dickson is the good cop, we’re in for a long night. Masterson leaned against the wall while Dickson leaned back in the chair across from us. He kept his tone casual and started the interrogation. “Miss Kinkaid, can you tell me when and where you purchased the trail mix you gave to Alfie Hollis?” “I bought it at Valley Health on Cross Avenue. I’m not sure of the exact date, but it was sometime in August. If I looked at my calendar, I could narrow it down. But it’s in my classroom and I’m not allowed on school grounds.” “I’ll arrange to have your things picked up tomorrow,” Frank promised. “Did you buy anything else that day?” Dickson pressed. “Yes, I did. The Hollis family provided us with a list of foods the kids were allowed to eat. We provided all of the other parents with the list in a notice we sent home explaining the Hollis twins’ situation. I wanted to have plenty of allergy-friendly snacks on hand, so I stocked up on most of the nonperishables the Hollis’s suggested. I bought the trail mix, dried fruit, and some coconut honey clusters.” Detective Dickson scratched in a notepad while Masterson continued glaring at us from against the wall. “And do you provide snacks for all of your students or just the ones with special medical considerations?” the detective pressed. “I bring donuts for breakfast on the last day before Christmas break and the last day of school, just as a little extra treat for the students. Other than that, I don’t give the kids snacks. The parents are allowed to bring in cakes and cookies on their children’s birthdays. I knew some of them were bound to forget about Alfie’s allergies and I didn’t
want him to be left out while the other kids had treats. So I went to the health food store and stocked up on things he could eat.” Dickson nodded, still gazing down at his notepad. “And after you bought the food, what did you do with it?” “I left the bags in my trunk and carried them into my classroom the next morning. I put them in a drawer and they’ve been there ever since.” “How many times have you provided Alfie Hollis with one of these special treats?” “Again, I’d have to look at my calendar. But if I remember correctly, we’ve had six birthdays so far this year and none of the parents provided allergy-free alternatives.” “And did you have permission from Mr. and Mrs. Hollis?” “Excuse me?” He looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Was I unclear?” I blushed and looked away from his gaze. “No… it’s just… no, I didn’t have specific permission to give Alfie an allergy friendly treat if the other parents failed to provide one. But they understood that the other parents would occasionally bring snacks.” “Did you have permission from the school officials to provide Alfie Hollis with these allergy friendly alternatives?” Masterson finally spoke. My face flushed hotter. “No, I didn’t have specific permission to give Alfie anything. But I wasn’t breaking any school policies, either.” “Miss Kinkaid, is it true that you recently ended a long-term relationship with one of your colleagues?” Dickson continued. “I was involved with Ben Simmons for a year. We broke up a few months ago.” I don’t see what that has to do with any of this. “Would you call that break up amicable?” he pressed. “No, I wouldn’t.” “Detective, I don’t see what my client’s relationship history has to do with this case,” Frank broke in. Detective Winston shrugged. “You know how this works, Frank. At this point, we don’t know what might be relevant. For instance, if Miss Kinkaid went through an embarrassing, public breakup with one of her coworkers, she may have felt motivated to revamp her image a little. The little boy has a scare, she saves the day with the Epi-pen, and suddenly she’s everyone’s hero.” “That’s preposterous,” I snarled. Frank put a calming hand on my forearm and glared at Dickson. “That’s a terrible, insulting accusation. And it’s one you have no grounds for. Emily has admitted she bought the trail mix and gave it to Alfie. Believe me, if I doubted her innocence for a second, I wouldn’t have allowed her to tell you that much. She didn’t poison Alfie Hollis. But someone did, and my client is more motivated than anyone to figure out who that was. We
want to cooperate, but I won’t sit here and let you insult her.” “I’m just trying to get to the truth,” Dickson said with another shrug. “Maybe your theory is a little off, partner,” Masterson said. He spat into a Styrofoam cup and finally sat down next to Dickerson. “Maybe the old boyfriend wasn’t her motivation. Maybe it was the new one.” I don’t know what’s more offensive: what they think I did, or why they think I did it. Dickson cocked an eyebrow. “That is a good idea. McAlister gets a lot of airtime, doesn’t he? And the fans don’t like you too much. They think you’re a distraction. But if your hero scenario had played out the way you planned, they’d have never said another word against you.” “Gentlemen, my client has had a long day and this is starting to get ridiculous. If you have any other questions, please get to them. If you’re just going to throw wild accusations around, we’ll be leaving.” “The accusations aren’t so wild,” Masterson warned. “If there were ever a slam dunk circumstantial case, it’s this one. Emily admits that the food was in her possession from the moment it left the store. Everything in that drawer tested positive for traces of dairy. And every single package had been opened. Our forensics expert did a preliminary examination and believes the perpetrator folded a cloth over the bags and resealed them with a straightening iron. Tell me, Miss Kinkaid, do you own a straightening iron?” I shook my head. “Sorry to disappoint you, but my hair is straight as a board all on its own.” Masterson glared at me, but pressed on. “We’re comparing the prints we took from you today to the ones we lifted off of the snack packages. When they match, this case is no longer circumstantial.” I’d had enough of the angry detective’s condescending threats. “Of course my prints are on the packages. I imagine you’ll also find some from health food store employees, other customers, hell the person who boxed them up at the distribution center probably left at least one fingerprint. Will you be harassing them as well, or just me?” The detectives had no smart ass retort to my question. The duo stared at me with equal amounts of anger and disgust; Frank smiled beside me. I tried to remind myself they were just doing their jobs. If I had been guilty, I’d deserve all of their hateful comments and then some. I hoped that when the real culprit was caught, he or she would be treated a hundred times worse than I’d been. But I still resented the fact that they thought I was capable of doing such a terrible thing. “Miss Kinkaid, I understand that you had a difficult childhood. You lost your parents as an infant and moved a lot while you were growing up. It’s not uncommon for people with that type of history to develop emotional or mental deficits. Have you ever been diagnosed with a mental illness?” Dickson asked. I stared at him, unable to believe he just asked that question. I shook my head. “My childhood wasn’t perfect. But I’m not damaged. I could never hurt a child, Detective.” I cleared my throat, swallowing the emotion that surged up. “I hope that as your
investigation continues, you’ll be able to see that.” “We would like you to meet with our staff psychologist, just the same,” Masterson countered. Frank slid his paperwork into his briefcase and rose to his feet. I pushed my chair away from the table and stood as well, thankful he was calling an end to the interview. “Nice try, but you know no good defense attorney would ever agree to that. The prosecutor’s office has already called Miss Kinkaid’s mental health into question. She’ll show that she’s sane, competent, and incapable of committing such a heinous act. But she’ll do it with an independent doctor of the court’s choosing, not one connected to the arresting precinct. It’s getting late and Miss Kinkaid’s been through enough for one day. If you have any other questions for her, please contact my office.” “Remember the judge’s warning and don’t stray too far, Emily,” Masterson called after me as we stepped into the hallway. “I’d hate to have an excuse to throw you into a cell.”
*** “Here kiddo, have some more mashed potatoes,” Uncle Walt insisted. He scooped a spoonful onto my plate and covered them with pan gravy. “I’m not sure I can eat another bite,” I protested but loaded my fork anyway. “This is wonderful, Walt,” Frank offered, wiping his mouth with a paper towel. “Exactly what I needed after such a long day.” Frank and I had arrived at Ethan’s to find his kitchen table loaded with chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, fresh biscuits, and salad. Growing up, my uncle had emphasized the importance of eating healthy. We ate a lot of grilled chicken, brown rice, and steamed vegetables. But when comfort food was in order, he pulled out all the stops. “You were right, back at the courthouse,” Walt confessed. He folded his napkin over his empty plate and leaned back in his chair. “I feel helpless. I thought feeding you two was the least I could do.” “It really was delicious, Walt,” Ethan agreed. He draped an arm over the back of my chair and cleared his throat. “I know we all want to ignore the elephant in the room. But now that we’ve finished eating, I think we need to talk about what happened after you two left the courthouse, and what we’re going to do to clear Emily’s name. Claudia and I set up a workstation in the library.” “Ethan’s right. I know you’re scared, kiddo. But I also know if we all pool our resources, we’ll get to the bottom of this. Why don’t the rest of you head that way? I think I could use a drink.” “There’s a fully stocked bar in the library,” Ethan told him, rising to his feet. He held my hand as we walked down the hallway, but there was an odd stiffness in his body. He was moving more like a robot than a person, but I chalked it up to a long, traumatic day. I was feeling pretty tense myself. “It’s nothing fancy,” Ethan warned, opening the heavy oak door. He flipped on a light
and we stepped into an empty, gloomy room. One wall was covered in dated wood paneling, the other three with built-in bookshelves. The same shag carpeting that covered the rest of the house ran wall to wall, and a Tiffany-style chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling. A large, short wooden table sat beneath it, laden with boxes of ink pens, stacks of legal pads, and a cup of yellow highlighters. Mismatched couches and loveseats were arranged around the table and, as promised, a rolling bar cart sat nearby. A small television had been set up on a filing cabinet and turned to one of the twenty-four-hour news stations. Uncle Walt walked straight to the bar while the rest of us arranged ourselves around the table. Ethan and I settled down on one of the loveseats, but his body never quite relaxed. “I wasn’t sure what all you’d need,” he continued. He crossed one leg over the other and leaned against the armrest. “If there’s anything else you could use, just let me know and I’ll have it delivered.” “Thank you, Ethan. But honestly, I don’t think this is necessary. There’s more than enough room at my office for us all to meet there,” Frank insisted. Ethan nodded toward the muted TV. “The less Emily leaves the house, the better. I understand you’ll work primarily from your place. But I think it’s best that you come here to speak with Emily instead of vice versa.” “I completely understand,” Frank agreed. He’s acting weird. But he wants me to stay here. That has to be a good sign. “So what do we do to help our girl?” Walt asked. Frank shifted his weight and looked awkwardly from my uncle to Claudia. “Claudia, you know I love you. But if this ends up going to court, you’re going to be at the top of the prosecution’s witness list.” “I know I can’t be here,” she agreed with a sigh. “I was just hoping you would forget. I’ll be in the kitchen.” “Thanks, sweetheart,” Walt said. He grabbed her hand and gave it a quick peck as she walked by. She gave him an affectionate pat on the head and continued to the hallway. When the door clicked shut, Frank cleared his throat. “Look, guys, I appreciate that you all want a plan of action in place as soon as possible. But right now, there’s not much we can do. The prosecutor’s offices will be required to share anything their investigation uncovers. The school has a video camera mounted about ten feet down from your classroom door. My guess is the cops will see someone in the footage who’s not supposed to be there, and this will all be over.” Walt raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying we shouldn’t do anything until after the cops are finished reviewing the footage?” “I know that’s not what you want to hear, Walt. But yes, I think that’s our best course of action. We all know Emily didn’t do this. The cops have jumped the gun because there are two justifiably outraged parents on the other side of this demanding justice for their
son. As soon as the evidence points at someone else, so will their rage.” “But what if the footage doesn’t clear Emily?” Ethan countered. “Don’t get me wrong. I know she’s innocent. But if the real attacker is someone who works at the school, the cops might not question them going into Emily’s room.” “You think this was Ben,” I realized out loud. “Who else would have done this?” he snapped. Uncle Walt stiffened his back and Ethan quickly dropped his tone. “I’m sorry. But he cornered her at the school when the team and I were there speaking to the kids. Did she tell you about that?” Walt shook his head and turned his disapproving gaze to me. “No, she didn’t.” “I haven’t heard this story either,” Frank announced. “Is this something I should know? Who is Ben? And why do you think he’d do something like this, Ethan?” “Ben is Emily’s ex-boyfriend,” Ethan explained. “He teaches PE at The Day School. Their relationship ended—” “My relationship with Ben ended when I caught him in bed with one of the student’s mothers,” I interrupted. I didn’t relish recounting the story, but it wasn’t Ethan’s place to tell it. “Ben was a cheating shithead,” I continued. “And yes, he cornered me at school after Ethan and I started dating. I think he was jealous. But he’s not sadistic. He’s not capable of hurting a child. And even if he were, he wouldn’t risk his career. He cares way too much about himself, and he’s terrified of failing again.” Walt turned back to Frank. “Will you have access to these surveillance videos? The cops might not recognize something suspicious the way Emily would.” “We’ll get copies, but it will take time to review them,” Frank warned. “I seem to have an abundance of that at the moment,” I replied dryly. “I can help too,” Walt offered. “Great. I’ll let you know if and when they’re turned over. In the meantime, I’d like you all to start thinking of other people who may have a motive to set Emily up. I know you don’t want to believe your ex is capable of something like this, but I’m going to check him out anyway. What’s his full name?” “Ben Simmons,” Walt answered for me. Frank scribbled the name onto his notepad. “Does anyone else come to mind?” “Not at the moment,” I answered. “I get along with everyone at work.” Frank looked from Walt to Ethan and they both shook their heads. “Alright. If any of you think of someone else, let me know. I’m going to head home for the night. Emily, I’ll check in with you tomorrow afternoon.” He stood up and the rest of us followed suit. “You look exhausted, kiddo,” my uncle observed. “I think Claudia and I will head out
as well so you can get some rest. Promise you’ll call if you need anything?” “I promise.” We stepped into the living room and found Claudia on the sofa reading a magazine. She slid it into her purse and looked up with a warm smile. “I got everything squared away in the kitchen. I couldn’t find the detergent for your dishwasher, but it’s ready aside from that. The leftovers are in Ziploc containers in the fridge.” “Thank you, Claudia. You didn’t have to do that.” I gave her a big hug and resisted the temptation to ask about Alfie. I knew she couldn’t give me any information, but I would have traded anything to hear that he was still improving. “Thank you for having us, Ethan,” Walt offered as everyone moved to the door. “We’ll talk to you tomorrow, kids. Try to get some rest.” Ethan opened the door and our guests filed outside. He shut it again a little too forcefully, returned to the living area, and collapsed into an armchair, leaving me alone on the sofa. He let out a loud sigh and stared blankly at the coffee table. “Okay. What’s going on?” I demanded. “What do you mean, what’s going on? You lived through the same day I did, right?” “No, not at all. I was arrested and accused of being a psychopath who poisons kids for kicks. And then I came home to a stiff, distant boyfriend who seems terrified to touch me. What the hell happened, Ethan?” “I know this is difficult for you,” he began with an air of annoyance, not looking at me. “But it’s frustrating for me too. I know you didn’t do this. But you and I both know that so far, the evidence looks bad. And that’s all people who don’t know you like I do have to go on when they’re forming an opinion. And… well, that puts me in a pretty difficult place.” “So your mother is what happened.” His face flushed red, but he didn’t deny it. “She and Victor are concerned about what the allegations against you will do to my reputation.” I started connecting the dots. “Is this why you were late to the courthouse?” He nodded. “It’s also why Frank is your attorney. I arranged for one of Victor’s lawyers to handle the case. He called Victor, who put an end to that plan.” “They’re pressuring you to break up with me, aren’t they?” He still didn’t look at me. “Yes. Victor even mentioned something about the morality clause in my contract.” “So they gave you an ultimatum? Me or the team?” “They haven’t pushed it that far yet. And I don’t think they will, as long as we lay low and this case is wrapped up quickly. Once we figure out who actually tampered with the food, I’ll hire a PR rep to make sure your exoneration gets three times the attention as
your arrest. But until then, it’s probably best if we aren’t photographed together.” The suggestion stung like a slap in the face. It was like someone had taken my boyfriend’s body and dropped a stranger’s brain inside. I shook my head and let my rage boil over. “I’m sorry my current problems are such a damn inconvenience for you. A six-yearold child is lying in a hospital bed. At best, my career is over. At worst, I’m on my way to prison as someone who assaulted a child. But please, Ethan. Please tell me more about how terrible this could be for your fucking football team.” The muscle in his jaw worked, then he blew out a breath. “I’m sorry, Emily. I wasn’t trying to make this about myself. I just want to handle this situation correctly, and it’s not like anyone’s printed a manual.” “Well I hate to break it to you, but you’ve blown your chance to handle this the right way,” I snapped, digging through my purse for my keys. I’d just had the worst day of my life and Ethan’s attitude was the last thing I felt like dealing with. “Enlighten me,” he demanded just as haughtily. “What the fuck was I supposed to do?” “You could have walked up to any of the reporters outside of that hospital, looked straight into their cameras, and told them that I’m innocent. You could stand by me instead of insisting that we not be seen together. You could tell your parents to fuck off—” “They aren’t just my parents,” he growled. “Morality clause or not, all Victor has to do is say the word and I’m cut from the team. He’ll do it in the middle of the season, just to spite me. He’ll ruin the team’s first season just to make a point, Emily. The other guys don’t deserve that. They’ve worked too hard.” My hand finally closed over my keys. I rose to my feet and stormed toward the door, slinging the purse strap over my shoulder. “What are you doing? Come back here, Emily. You’re overreacting.” I leaned against the door and faced him, keeping my voice as calm as possible. “I think you’re the last person who should be telling me how to act right now. You know, I don’t know why I’m so surprised. I should have never expected to have an adult relationship with a man who’s spent his life playing a game and calling it a career. It’s nice to know where your loyalties lay, though. I mean, who gives a shit if my name is dragged through the press? It doesn’t matter what people think of me as long as you and your friends get to throw the ball around on Sunday, right?” He stood and took a few strides toward me, then stopped a few paces away. “Emily, that’s not what I meant and you know it. Look, we’ve had long, emotional days. And you’re absolutely right. Yours was worse than mine. Put your purse down. I’ll run you a hot bath… or maybe we could get in the Jacuzzi again.” You’re really going to hint at sex right now? “You know, they say that everything happens for a reason,” I said, my voice sounding as helpless as I did. “Maybe this, what’s happening between us now, is the reason fate, or
God, or whoever threw this mess at me. We can’t work, Ethan. I need someone who’s instinct is to be there for me. I need to know that whatever comes my way, I don’t have to face it alone. And I deserve that. So I’m going home.” “Emily, you’re making a mistake,” he argued. “I made the mistake weeks ago. This is me fixing it. I’m sorry, Ethan. I’ll call you in a few days and arrange to come pick up my things.” I opened the door and rushed outside before he had a chance to reply. I was flooded with emotions but didn’t let myself feel any of them until I was safely home. I stripped out of my clothes on my way to the bedroom, crawled between the sheets, and cried myself to sleep.
CHAPTER NINE
“Emily…? Emily, we know you’re here. Open the door,” Linda insisted from my hallway. I dragged myself off of the couch and padded to the front door in the teddy bear house slippers I’d had since I was twelve. I turned the knob and my friends pushed into the living room. “We have takeout,” Linda announced, lifting a bulging white plastic bag. “And booze,” Melissa added. She set a brown paper sack on the coffee table and set off for the kitchen. I brushed my fingers through my greasy hair. “I really appreciate this, but I really meant it when I said I wasn’t up for company.” Three days had passed since my arrest and subsequent breakup. The first day, Ethan had called every hour on the hour. The second, I downloaded an app that blocked his number. I’d ignored my friends’ calls but returned their texts, promising I was okay and insisting I wanted to be alone. They didn’t listen. “You’ve been locked up in this apartment all week. You don’t have to entertain us or even talk to us if you don’t want to. But we’re not leaving until we’ve at least seen you eat something,” Linda insisted. Melissa returned from the kitchen with three plates and three tumblers of ice. Linda loaded lo mein and lemon chicken onto the dishes while Melissa poured three rum and cokes. They carried everything to the coffee table and sat down on the floor in front of me. I wanted to stay in my pouty mood, but the food smelled too delicious. I took a plastic fork from the bag and swirled a bite of noodles around it. The three of us ate in silence for a while before Melissa cleared her throat. “So how are you holding up?” I shrugged. “How do I look?” She studied me for a moment and frowned. “Awful, if I’m being honest.” At that point, I considered awful a compliment. I’d been wearing the same sweatpants and t-shirt for days, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d run a brush through my hair, and I knew I probably didn’t smell fantastic. “Well, that’s how I feel.” I took a long drink of my cocktail and stabbed a piece of lemon chicken. “Have you heard from Ethan?” Linda pressed. “No. I don’t have anything to say to him.” Linda and Melissa exchanged a knowing glance and Melissa turned back to me. “Emily, I know that this is an impossible time. But are you sure you didn’t overreact, just a little?”
“I’ve been accused of attacking a child, Melissa. Reporters were crawling all over the hospital when I was arrested. You saw the footage of them swarming him when he left. And all he said was ‘no comment.’ He’s supposed to love me, but he can’t be bothered to defend me? That’s not the kind of man I want. I can’t believe you’re defending him.” “I’m not defending him,” Melissa assured me. “I’m just not sure you fully understand things from his perspective.” “Ethan has a lot of people depending on him, Emily,” Linda added quietly. “We all know he loves you. It’s all over his face anytime you’re in the room.” “This is the Stallion’s first season, Emily. It’s almost unheard of for a brand new team to get this far in the playoffs. They’re primed to be one of the best teams in the league. But they won’t survive an ugly scandal. I think Ethan felt he was choosing the lesser of the two evils… and I’m not sure he wasn’t right.” “You honestly think it’s okay that he chose the team over me?” I snapped. I tossed my half eaten dinner on the coffee table and reached for my drink. I needed to calm my nerves before my anger got the best of me. “I think that Ethan knows you’re innocent and knows it’s only a matter of time before everyone else knows that too. I think that there are a lot of players, trainers, groundskeepers, and countless other people depending on the Stallions’ success. And I think Victor Montez is a big enough ass to follow through with his threat to terminate Ethan’s contract midseason. They won’t win without him, Em. They proved that while he was injured.” “So I’m supposed to let Victor and Martha hold my life hostage because they disapprove of me? I’m supposed to be satisfied with Ethan supporting me behind closed doors but not speaking a word in my defense to the people calling me a monster?” “Well… yes,” Melissa agreed. “Honestly, Emily. I’m in this business and I’m telling you, the less this is talked about, the better. If you don’t feed the story, it dies. One fivesecond sound bite and it’ll keep going for at least another week.” “And with any luck, this will be over in less than that,” Linda added. “Have you heard anything from the police?” I shook my head. “I talked to my lawyer today. He said the police are still looking at the surveillance footage. The prosecutor’s office is investigating every aspect of my life. You should probably both expect a call.” “I hope they call,” Linda insisted. “I’ll tell them you’re the last person who’d ever hurt a child.” “Personally, I think Ben was behind it,” Melissa suggested. “I mean, think about it. How many people even knew that those snacks were there? And out of those people, who knew what Alfie was and wasn’t allergic to?” “We sent home a list with the parents. I’m sure it wouldn’t have been hard for someone else to get their hands on it. As for the snacks, Ben, you guys, and Ethan were the only ones who knew about them.”
“So it had to be Ben,” Linda said matter of factly. “I don’t know how I’m going to send the kids to PE on Monday.” “I know Ben being behind this makes sense. But I just can’t believe he’s capable of hurting a child. You’ve seen him with the students, Linda. He really cares about them. If he wanted to hurt me, he’d hurt me directly. Someone else is behind this. We just have to figure out who. Do you have any other ideas?” They shook their heads in unison. I took another bite of my lo mein and chased it with the rest of my rum and coke before turning back to Linda. “What’s the theory going around the school? Does everyone think I’m guilty?” “If they do, they’ve been smart enough not to mention it to me. No one’s really talking about it at all, actually. But everyone’s taking extra precautions. The janitors changed out all of the classroom locks this week and a security company was there today adding more cameras. I think everyone’s assuming this was an outside job.” “It had to have been,” I agreed. “We just have to figure out how everything connects.” “That’s a chore for another day,” Melissa said, pouring us all another round. She passed me a drink and then reached for her oversized purse. She pulled out a gallon sized Ziploc bag full of every beauty product you could imagine. “I know you feel like shit,” she explained. “I know because you look it. Maybe if we do something about that, you’ll start to feel better. We’re going to have a spa night. But first, you’ve got to take a shower.” “You’ll feel so much better when you get out,” Linda insisted, a hand covering her mouth. “Okay. I’m not the best at taking a hint, but I understand blunt statements. There’s some precut cookie dough in my fridge. Why don’t you guys pop them onto a cookie sheet? I’ll go wash off this smell and then I’m all yours.”
*** My night with my friends made me feel better. But when I woke up alone in bed the next morning, the cloud of depression consumed me again. I’d started the school year feeling nothing but optimism about my future. And before the end of the first semester, my entire life had crumbled around me. Without my job or my boyfriend, I had no real reason to get out of bed. It didn’t help knowing I wouldn’t be able to make it down the block without someone snapping my picture. I spent another week hiding out at home, leaving only to meet with Frank. So far, there were no new developments in my case. I forced myself to shower, do my hair, and put on makeup every day for the sake of not seeing the looks of concern on the faces of my family and friends. Everyone had taken to dropping by unannounced, and pretending to be fine was easier than telling the truth. Inside, I felt like I was dying. Melissa’s advice kept echoing through my head and my heart ached to call Ethan. I compromised with myself and unblocked his number, but it was too late. Three days
passed without a single call from him. I decided that as much as it hurt, it was probably best to let him go. But the thought of never seeing him again was more terrifying than anything else I was going through. I was popping a single serve pot pie in the oven when the doorbell rang. It startled me and the top of my hand brushed against the hot rack. “Son of a bitch,” I hissed, waving my stinging hand in the air. I rushed to the sink and ran my hand under cold water as panicked knocks filled the air. “Emily?” Ethan called out. “Emily, are you okay?” My heart raced as I turned off the faucet and grabbed a dishtowel. “I’m fine,” I called out. “I’m coming.” I answered the door, still in shock that he was on the other side. His eyes lit up when he saw me, but then quickly shot to the cardboard box in his hands. “Hey,” he said awkwardly. “I thought I heard you swear.” “You did. I wasn’t expecting anyone. The bell startled me and I burned my hand on my oven.” He stepped past me and set the box on the coffee table. “Let me see it,” he insisted, reaching for my hand. I lifted it to him, melting inside at his touch. He gently stroked my scalded skin before pulling away again. “It doesn’t look too bad. Do you have any aloe?” I nodded. “I’ll put some on it before I go to bed. What are you doing here, Ethan?” “You never called about picking up your things, so I brought some of it over. I have a few duffle bags in the car. I didn’t want to carry everything up until I knew you were home,” he explained. He’s not here to fix anything. He’s just here to finish ending it. “I haven’t ventured out much. Thanks for bringing everything over. I’ll help you with the bags.” “I’ll get them,” he insisted. “Go take care of that burn. The longer you wait, the worse it could get.” He went for the rest of my things while I tended to my hand. When I went back to the living room, he’d already returned with the bags. He was perched awkwardly on the edge of the sofa, his elbows resting on his knees. “Would you like something to drink?” I offered. “I have Coke and bottled water. And some rum Melissa left last week.” “I’m okay. How are you holding up?” I shrugged and sat down in my overstuffed armchair. “Okay, I guess. Just waiting impatiently for the slow wheels of justice to turn. I was hoping to be back at work before Christmas vacation, but it looks like that’s not going to happen. My uncle hired a PI to look into the Hollis family. He thinks we’re on the wrong track, thinking Alfie was hurt to
get to me. The PI is looking into possible enemies of the family.” “That makes as much sense as any of this,” he agreed. He took a deep breath and let it out, loud and slow. “Emily, I am so sorry. I was an ass. Everything happened so fast and I had people coming at me from all sides. I felt so much pressure… and I caved, at your expense. I’ve been kicking myself since the moment you left my house. I don’t know what I was—” “I understand,” I interrupted. “I didn’t while it was happening. But I do now. On one side, you have me. On the other, there’re hundreds of people depending on the Stallions’ having a successful season.” “That’s how I felt last week,” he agreed, his face tightening with emotion. “Now, I don’t give a damn about anyone else. You’re the only one I care about, Emily. The next time a reporter asks me about your arrest, I’m going to tell them exactly how I feel about it. I’m going to tell them that you’re the most caring, generous woman I’ve ever met. That you wouldn’t hurt your worst enemy, much less a child. I’m going to do what I should have done the moment all this started. And I’m going to tell my parents that I love you and their opinions don’t matter. I’m hoping you’ll forgive me and take me back. But I’m doing all of this whether you do or not. I love you, Emily.” I wiped a stray tear from my cheek and joined him on the couch. All of the stress, fear, and anxiety lifted off of my shoulders as I fell into his arms. “I love you, too. I missed you, Ethan. I’m still a little mad at you. I wish you’d explained why you wanted to handle things your way. When you told me we couldn’t be photographed together, I thought you were ashamed of me. I thought you felt your job was more important than our relationship. But Melissa helped me understand that it wasn’t just your job you were worried about, that a bad first season would affect everyone connected to the team. Do you really think your stepdad is that spiteful?” He nodded. “Yes, but I don’t care anymore. I love you. If that costs me my spot with the Stallions, so be it. It’s not like Victor can kick me out of the league. If he releases me, I’ll sign with someone else. Or I’ll retire. My investments are doing well. We could spend the rest of our lives traveling if you want. There’s no limit, Emily.” A sad sound that was supposed to have been a laugh escaped my lips. “There is at the moment. I’m not allowed to leave town,” I reminded him. “That will be worked out soon enough. I want you to know that I have never once doubted your innocence. And I certainly wasn’t ashamed of you. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. You have this silent strength that pulls me toward you. I am so proud to be the man by your side, if you’ll still have me.” I gave him a quick, firm kiss on the lips and then pulled away and studied him with a raised eyebrow. “You’re absolutely sure about this? The last thing I want is for this to backfire and you to resent me for ruining your career.” Ethan cradled my face in his wide, rough hand and stared longingly into my eyes. “You asked me once why I play football when I can afford not to work at all.” “And you said not playing would be a waste of your talent.”
He nodded. “I’m proud of my talents. I see them as a blessing, and blessings aren’t to be squandered. But you are my biggest blessing, Emily. Regardless of what happens, I will spend my life worshiping you, not resenting you.” The corners of my lips curled up into a smile. “Worshiping, huh?” He nodded as he pulled my face to his. “If you’d like, I can give you a preview.” He gently bit my lower lip, then enveloped my mouth in a kiss. I tugged at the hem of his shirt and pulled away long enough to lift it over his head. I ran my hands down his firm, taut muscles and wondered if I’d ever get used to the sight of them. Ethan dropped his lips to my neck and I unbuttoned my shirt, adding it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. I reached for his waistband but he pulled away, rising to his feet. “Wait right here,” he instructed. He unzipped one of the duffle bags and retrieved a smaller bag before continuing on to the bathroom. A few moments later, I heard water rush through the pipes. A bath for two sounds perfect. I wonder what’s in that bag. I stretched out on the couch, waiting for Ethan to return. Being with him again was comforting and exciting at the same time, and I prayed the strange combination of feelings would never end. Ethan returned to the couch and lifted me into his arms. “What’s in that bag?” I asked. He carried me into the bathroom and sat me down on the tile floor. The tub was half full and fragrant bubbles covered the top of the water. The room smelled like vanilla and lavender and glowed with the light of three large candles. “I came prepared, just in case you forgave me,” he explained with a grin. “I figured if you kicked me out and found the bag later, I’d just say it was a gift I hadn’t had a chance to give you.” “Sounds like you were pretty confident in your chances,” I teased. Ethan held my face in his hands and stared down at me. “I was confident that I love you. And I hoped that would be enough.” “It will always be enough,” I promised. Ethan lowered his lips to mine as his fingers danced across my body. He lifted me onto the countertop, stepped back to turn off the faucet, then returned to me, his eyes ravenous. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered, kissing my neck as he unhooked my bra. “I’ve missed every inch of you. And I’m dying to get reacquainted.” He tossed my bra to the floor and took my left nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking until it stood tall and hard. He moved on to the second and then dropped his lips to my abdomen while his hands slid beneath my waistband. He pulled my slacks and panties down my legs, kissing his way down to my left foot before turning his head and running his tongue up my left leg. He pushed my legs up and open, sliding his hands under
me as he plunged his tongue into my pussy. I let my legs rest on his shoulders and Ethan moved one hand, stroking my clit as his tongue worked his magic inside me. I ran my hands through his hair, tugging softly as the first waves of release washed over me. “Oh, Ethan,” I gasped. As he moved faster and harder, every feeling in my body suddenly intensified. My eyes rolled back in my head and I leaned against the mirror, gripping Ethan’s hair for support as I bucked against his face. I came wet and hard, and Ethan lapped up my juices before rising from his knees. He lifted me off of the counter and gently placed me in the tub. “Aren’t you going to get in here with me?” I asked. “I want to pamper you,” he explained, reaching for a soft shower poof. I took his hand and rose onto my knees, meeting him at eye level. “You said you were going to worship me,” I reminded him. “Doesn’t that mean you have to give me what I want?” A sly smile spread across his face. “Yes, I guess it does.” “Well, I want you,” I whispered. I dropped one hand to his rigid cock and kissed him softly just beneath his jaw. Ethan trembled in my hand and stripped out of his pants. I slid forward in the tub and he climbed in behind me, propping his legs up on the sides of my deep soaking tub. I leaned back into his chest and ran my slick body across his erection. Ethan dropped a hand between my legs and slid two fingers inside me. “I love you, Emily,” he whispered. “I love you too,” I gasped as he used his other hand to guide his rod inside me. I squeezed my legs together as tight as I could and leaned forward, taking him in deeper. I leaned back again, my chest now covered in bubbles. Ethan gripped my breasts and I lowered my hand to where we were joined. Cupping Ethan’s balls in my palm, I stroked my clit with my thumb. I leaned forward again, rising and falling on Ethan’s cock as I moved. I knew I could take Ethan deeper, but I couldn’t find the right position. Desperate for complete satisfaction, I stood up and stepped out of the tub. Ethan was caught off guard, but he joined me. Only the sound of water dripping from our bodies filled the room. “I can’t get enough of you in there,” I explained breathlessly. I leaned back against the counter and pulled Ethan towards me. He planted his palms on either side of me and leaned down, tracing his lips lightly over my neck. “You want all of me?” he whispered. “Yes,” I begged, wrapping my arms around his neck. Ethan lifted me onto the counter and pulled until my ass was at the very edge. He stood in front of me and lifted my right leg to his shoulder. He guided himself into me, plunging balls deep with the first thrust. “Like that?” he groaned. I clamped my pussy muscles tight around him. “Yes,” I gasped. “Exactly like that.” Ethan moved slowly, pulling all but the head of his cock out before driving it back in. I felt every inch of his thick, quivering shaft as he moved in and out of me. I grabbed his ass with one hand, driving him in harder as I bore down on his cock.
“Oh God, Emily,” he moaned. “You’re going to make me come.” “Come with me, baby,” I demanded as my second orgasm overtook me. I cried out in pleasure and intensified my grip on Ethan’s cock, desperate to feel every last throb. Ethan’s entire body spasmed and he released my leg. He fell forward, bracing himself on the counter as his cock erupted deep inside me. He took a few deep breaths and pulled me down onto the cool tile floor. “That was amazing,” he said, still struggling for breath. “Yes, it was,” I agreed. I was blissfully happy and never wanted the night to end. “What do you say we get back in the bath, and then do this again?” “I promised to worship you, so I guess I don’t have a choice,” he teased. He rolled over and kissed me, and we forgot all about the bath.
*** I woke up the next morning to the mouthwatering aromas of cinnamon, coffee, and bacon. The bedroom seemed unnaturally bright as I stretched and opened my eyes. I rolled out of bed and peeked out the window to see the city covered in a thick blanket of snow. If the weather keeps up, we’ll have a white Christmas. The upcoming holiday seemed much less depressing now that Ethan and I were back together. I couldn’t help but smile as I padded into the kitchen. “Good morning, sweetheart,” Ethan greeted me with a grin. He was at the table with a cup of steaming coffee and my laptop. “I hope you don’t mind,” he said, gesturing to the computer. “Mine is at home.” “It’s no problem,” I assured him, pouring a cup of coffee of my own. “I stuck some cinnamon rolls in the oven about ten minutes ago and there’s bacon on the stove.” “Thanks, baby. It all smells delicious. What are you working on?” “A speech announcing that I’m leaving the Stallions.” I stared at him, trying to decide if I heard him right. He blew out a breath and looked from the computer to me. “I didn’t sleep very well last night. I kept thinking about my parents’ threats. I don’t want this to end with them kicking me off the team. I want to leave on my own terms. I’m going to tell them I love you and then I’m going to call a press conference. After that, I’d love nothing more than to whisk you off to a luxurious hotel and shut out the rest of the world for a few days. What do you say?” “That sounds wonderful,” I whispered, still in too much shock to speak louder. “Want to practice your speech on me?” “If I ever get past ‘Ladies and gentlemen, it is with a heavy heart.’ That’s all I’ve got.” I relaxed my face and studied him for a moment. “What reason are you giving for
leaving midseason?” “That’s what I’m stuck on,” he said, his face twisting in uncertainty. “I can’t tell them the truth. Victor’s acting like a child, but I don’t want to air our family drama in public. And I can’t really say that I’m retiring or in need of personal time if I’m going to turn right around and look for another contract. But I have to say something. The alternative is letting my parents control the story. I have no idea how to handle this. Any ideas?” I knew what had to be done. I hated it, but it was our only good option. I let out a long sigh just as the oven timer chimed. Ethan pulled the cinnamon rolls out and set them on the counter to cool. “We have to give them control,” I said, sinking onto a stool, shaking my head. I couldn’t let him do this. Not for me. Not for any reason. “Or let them think they have control, at least. You were right, Ethan. You can’t leave the team midseason.” He set the frosting container on the counter and stared back at me, his hands on his hips. “What are you saying, Emily?” “I’m saying that your original plan was the right one. At the moment, we’re stuck. If you walk away now, you’ll come across as undependable, not a team player. If Victor fires you, he could tank your reputation. There’s no good way for you to get out now and get signed to a new team. We have to play along with your parents until the end of the season. After the last game, we’ll tell them the truth and let the chips fall where they may. Surely by then my name will be cleared and that part won’t matter.” “Are you absolutely sure about this?” he pressed. “I meant what I said last night. I don’t care if I ever play football again. You’re more important than any game.” My heart squeezed and tears burned the back of my eyes. “I believe you. But you’re a man who finishes what he starts. I can’t ask you to change one of my favorite things about you. And it’s only six weeks, right?” “If we make it all the way, yes. If we play badly, it could be over on New Year’s.” I smiled at him. “Well, don’t play badly.” “I won’t. You’re absolutely sure about this?” he asked again. “I’m absolutely sure. And I think it’s best if we keep up the ruse with everyone, not just your parents. I won’t tell anyone that we’re together again and we’re going to have to be incredibly careful when we see each other.” “But we do get to see each other, right? I can’t take another week of not seeing you, much less six of them.” My smile grew wider. “Of course we’ll see each other. And this will all be over before we know it…” A terrible thought caused the smile to falter. “Unless the surveillance videos don’t pan out and I’m sent to jail.” “I won’t let that happen,” he promised. “If worse comes to worst, we’ll run away. I have more than enough money stowed away for us to live a long and happy life. And anyone who wants would be welcome to join us. But I honestly don’t think it will come to that, baby. You’re a good person. And you’ve already been dealt more than your fair share
of shitty hands.” I pressed my fingertips to my temples, trying to massage the growing headache away. “Most of the time, I feel optimistic. But occasionally, fear creeps in. The longer this drags out, the less likely my career will ever recover. This story is going to follow me and there will always be people who doubt my innocence. Coworkers will look over my shoulder, parents and kids will whisper behind my back. I’m not sure I can go back to that. But at the same time, I can’t imagine doing anything else.” “You’re a good teacher, Emily. You’re right, people who hear the story may be a little standoffish when you first meet. But as soon as they get to know you, your innocence will be as obvious to them as it is to me. You didn’t do anything wrong, Em. What Alfie went through wasn’t your fault.” “I wasn’t paying attention,” I whispered. “I passed him that bag and then I turned my back on him and called you. If I’d noticed him sooner, if I’d looked more carefully at the trail mix—” “You can’t torture yourself with ifs,” he interrupted. “Though believe me, I’m guilty of it too. If I hadn’t texted you, you wouldn’t have been on the phone with me. But if you weren’t on the phone with me, who’s to say you wouldn’t have been distracted by something else? You did the best you could with the situation someone else set in motion. Have you heard from Frank lately?” I shook my head. “Not for a few days. He said we should expect things to run even slower than usual since it’s the end of the year. My uncle’s coming by for lunch. I’m hoping he has an update from the investigator.” “Will you call and let me know what he says?” “Sure.” Ethan arranged cinnamon rolls and bacon on two plates and carried them to the table. “I’ll be at practice until late this afternoon. Is it okay if I come back tonight?” I shook my head. “I don’t think we should meet at either of our houses. It’s too risky. With everything that’s going on, you never know when a reporter is going to pop out of the bushes. And if we’re photographed together, our cover is blown.” Ethan gave me a teasing grin and raised one eyebrow. “This is a change of pace. I seem to remember you storming out of my house after I suggested we lay low.” I rolled my eyes and swallowed a mouthful of bacon. “I’ve already admitted you were right. How long are you going to rub it in?” “That’s the last time, I swear.” He held up two fingers by his head. “So if we can’t meet at either one of our houses, where are we going to go?” “A hotel. A different one every time. I’ll check in since my name is less recognizable than yours. And then you can meet me there an hour or so later.” Ethan frowned. “You want to sneak around like we’re having an affair?” I frowned back. “No. I want to walk freely around the city holding your hand. But
that’s not an option right now.” “I know,” he agreed and licked some frosting from his thumb. “I just want to be with you, Emily. It doesn’t matter where. I’m leaving for Ohio with the team tomorrow. Can we spend tonight together?” “Absolutely. I’ll get a room somewhere after Walt leaves this afternoon. I’ll text you and tell you were to meet me.” He glanced at the oven clock and swallowed the last of his coffee. “I have to get to the stadium,” he explained, rising to his feet. I walked him to the door and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. “I love you so much, Emily,” he whispered, his breath tickling my ear. Shivers of desire coursed through my body, but all we had time for was a kiss.
CHAPTER TEN
“Hey, kiddo. We’re just about to start the movie. Want some hot chocolate?” Uncle Walt peeked his head into my old bedroom, where I was stretched across the mattress. It was a Christmas Eve tradition for us to go out for a fancy meal and then return home to watch A Christmas Story and It’s a Wonderful Life. Claudia joined us that year, making it my first Christmas with anyone but Uncle Walt. “Sounds good,” I agreed with a yawn. “But maybe I should have coffee instead of hot chocolate. I ate too much and now I’m exhausted.” “Coffee it is. Claudia bought some of those fancy flavored pod things.” “Perfect. I’m going to change into my pajamas. I’ll join you guys in a minute.” Uncle Walt left the room and I rolled off the bed. I rummaged through my overnight bag, changing my black slacks and red sweater for a pair of plaid flannel pajama pants and oversized sweatshirt. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and shuffled into the open kitchen and living room. I sat down on a barstool at the island while Walt brewed coffee and assembled a tray of cookies, candy, and popcorn. Claudia was stretched out in one of the recliners watching the end of the evening news. “Looks like the snow’s going to let up for a few days,” she said as the newscaster signed off. “That’s a relief,” Walt replied. He topped my coffee off with a splash of cream and slid it to me across the island. “I have a charter flight scheduled for Friday and I wasn’t looking forward to flying through the slush.” I carried my mug to the sofa and Walt followed with the snack tray. As we settled in, the opening credits of the nightly tabloid talk show flashed across the television. A voiceover alerted viewers to the night’s leading story: Ethan McAlister, hot shot Stallions quarterback, had been spotted all over Portland with Dallas cheerleader Susannah Cross. Uncle Walt scrambled for the remote and Claudia’s face flushed beet red. “Honey, I’m so sorry,” she stammered. I kept my face carefully neutral. “It’s okay. Let’s just watch the movie.” Walt powered on the blue ray player then dropped the remote on the coffee table before the main menu popped up. He stood and started pacing the cream carpet floors. “Emily, I admire your ability to stay calm right now. But I’m afraid I don’t share it. What the fuck does that kid think he’s doing? He swooped into your life, all but moved you into his house, and the moment things got tough, he bails? And then has the audacity to strut around town with some cheerleader just a few weeks later? It’s all I can do not to drive over to his house and kick his ass.” “Walt, calm down,” Claudia said, dropping her face in her hands. “This isn’t helping anything.”
“It’s really okay,” I told them again. “Ethan and Susannah are just friends. You know how those talk shows are. They blow everything out of proportion. I’m sure that’s the case here.” “You seem pretty confident about that,” Claudia said, lifting her head to look at me closely. I was incredibly confident about it because it had been my idea for Ethan and Susannah to put on a show for the reporters. I thought it would keep Martha and Victor from asking too many questions about where Ethan was spending his time. I hadn’t considered that being videoed with the cheerleader wouldn’t exactly endear Ethan to my family and friends. “Susannah is really young. Ethan wouldn’t be interested in her. But even if he is, what right do I have to say anything about it? I left him, remember?” “You left him because he was acting like a bastard,” Uncle Walt countered. “And his behavior just keeps getting more and more reprehensible. I’m glad you ended things with him before they got too serious.” “Ethan and I are still together,” I blurted out without thinking. A wide, ‘I knew it’ smile spread across Claudia’s face while Walt’s mouth fell open and he stopped dead in his tracks. “I was hoping that’s what was going on,” Claudia beamed. “What the fuck do you mean you’re still together?” Walt demanded. When he started pacing again, I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down onto the sofa beside me. “For God’s sake, sit down. You’re making me nervous. Ethan stopped by about a week and a half ago with the stuff I’d left at his house. We started talking and we both owned up to the mistakes we’d made. He apologized for not immediately speaking out in my defense. And I apologized for not considering the position he was stuck in.” “That manipulative bastard,” Walt snarled. “I can’t believe he made you feel like you had anything to apologize for.” Claudia held up a hand. “There’s obviously more going on than meets the eye, Walt. Just let Emily talk.” She turned to me with patient eyes. “What position is Ethan in, exactly?” I took a deep breath and explained the whole mess. I told them about Martha and the way she’d tried to intimidate me when Ethan was in the hospital. I described the ultimatum Victor had given Ethan and reminded them that the high paid football players weren’t the only people depending on the franchise to keep their roofs over their heads. “After Ethan apologized, he wanted to stand up to his parents and leave the team on his own terms. But once I understood everything at stake, I couldn’t let him do it. So we decided not to tell anyone we’d made up, not until after the end of the season.” “So after the last game, you’re going public again?” Claudia asked. “After the last game or after my name is cleared, whichever comes first.”
“Victor Montez would be an absolute dumbass to release his best player in the middle of the playoffs,” Walt countered. “Ethan’s story sounds like a load of manipulative horseshit if you ask me. I think he’s pulling one over on you, sweetheart.” “I understand why you’d believe that. But you’re wrong.” I spent the next half hour recounting some of the more terrible stories Ethan had told me about the way his stepfather did business. Victor was selfish and ruthless. If he released Ethan from his contract, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d completely tanked one of his businesses to make a personal point. Claudia shuddered as I wrapped up a story about the time Victor fired a single mother for not answering his phone call during her son’s elementary school graduation. “He sounds like a real piece of work. I don’t blame you for wanting to stay under his radar.” I nodded. “Luckily, Ethan sees his parents as an example of what not to be. He really is a good guy, Walt. Our emotions were running high after I was arrested and we both could have handled the situation better.” “I trust your judgment, Emily.” Walt’s shoulders seemed to sag in resignation. “But the more you talk about his parents, the less thrilled I am about you being anywhere near that family. I understand why you didn’t want them to know you’re still seeing each other. But why in the world would you keep it from me?” His feelings are hurt. “I’m sorry, Uncle Walt. I thought it would be best not to say anything to anyone. The fewer people who know the secret, the more likely it is to stay a secret. Once again, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I know you wouldn’t say anything and the last thing I meant to do was give you a reason to hate Ethan. Please don’t punish him for my mistake.” Walt met my eyes again. “If and when he comes around again, I’ll approach the situation with an open mind. That’s the best I can do.” “Thank you.” I gave his hand a gentle squeeze and reached for the remote. “Wait a second,” he said, taking it from my hand. “You said that you and Ethan are staying quiet until your name is cleared or the end of the season, whichever comes first. What’s your plan after that? If the season ends and you’re still under investigation, will Ethan leave the team? Or will you just wait to see if Victor follows through with his threat?” “I’m not sure. We’re just sort of dealing with things as they come,” I admitted. “I hope my name is cleared first. But if it’s not, I think Ethan will want to leave the team on his terms. He won’t want to wait around to see if Victor fires him.” Walt narrowed his eyes. “So he’ll be looking for a new contract… in a new city?” I nodded. “I know what you’re going to ask. And I’ve already told Ethan I’ll move with him if he’s signed to a new team.” Walt frowned and exchanged a glance with Claudia. She smiled and gave him a slight nod before he turned back to me.
“I think it goes without saying that I don’t want you to move. Especially now, when I’m finally putting down roots. I’ll be a good sport about it, but you’ll have to promise me something.” I raised an intrigued eyebrow. “What’s that?” “That you’ll come home next October to be my best man,” he said, his mouth widening with a proud grin. Claudia beamed from the recliner and pulled an engagement ring from her pocket. “We were going to wait until tomorrow to tell you,” she said to my open-mouthed expression. She laughed and slipped the ring onto her finger, then held out her hand so I could examine the brilliant round diamond. “One of your presents under the tree is actually a best man t-shirt.” Walt’s grin couldn’t possibly get bigger. “Claudia thought it would be a cute way to break the news.” “I’m so happy for you,” I gushed, tears falling from my eyes. I hugged Walt, then Claudia before returning to my spot on the sofa. I took my uncle’s hand and gave him a broad smile. “I’d be honored to stand beside you at the wedding. And to be honest, I’m a little relieved that you beat me down the aisle. I always worried you were an incurable bachelor.” Walt let out an amused chuckle and squeezed my hand. A few silent moments passed and my uncle’s mood suddenly changed from joyful to reflective. “I don’t want you to move,” he said again. “But if that’s the decision you make, I’ll support it. I know you’re a grown woman and need to live your life, wherever it may take you. I know I can be overprotective and opinionated. It’s only because when I look at you, I still see the tiny little girl who used to beg for one last story before bedtime. I feel like I missed so much of your life when you were growing up. I was looking forward to making up for that now that I’ve retired.” “Nothing’s decided yet,” I reminded him, pressing my fingers against suddenly wet eyes. “And if Ethan and I do move, I know a guy who could fly you in for a visit.” He laughed and relaxed his shoulders. “I know. I’m acting like a sentimental old man.” “It’s okay. We have a lot going on, you’re allowed to be sentimental. And for the record, you have nothing to make up for. You worked hard so we could have a nice life. I always understood that. Now, if we’re going to make it through both movies, we’d better get started.”
*** I stepped out of the deep porcelain bathtub and wrapped myself in one of the hotel’s fluffy robes. It was two days after Christmas, and Ethan and I were spending some much needed time together between the holiday and Ethan’s bowl game. I hated that I had to stay behind, but there was no way around it. Keeping our relationship a secret meant we’d be on separate coasts on New Year’s Eve. I’d have no one to kiss at midnight. We’d been doing plenty of kissing to make up for it.
I padded into the empty bedroom and collapsed on the bed. Ethan entered from the other door a few moments later pushing a room service cart. “Breakfast is served,” he said, lifting the metal dome lid off of a plate of pancakes and bacon. He poured us each a cup of coffee while I drenched my food in syrup. I cut a wide triangle through my tall stack and shoved it into my mouth with my fork. “Hungry?” Ethan teased with an amused smile. I nodded, my cheeks puffed out like chipmunks. I chased the food with a long sip of orange juice and smiled back at him. “Someone spent most of the night working up my appetite,” I reminded him. Ethan grinned and cut into his Denver omelet. “I’m pretty famished myself. We need to cut this out or I’ll be too exhausted to go to practice.” “Don’t go. Play hooky and stay here with me,” I demanded playfully. I folded a piece of bacon into my mouth and lifted a napkin from the nearby cart. The morning paper was beneath it. My stomach tensed, but Ethan immediately made me feel better. “There’s nothing in it,” he assured me. “I googled us while you were in the bath. My only mentions were team related and there are no new stories about you at all.” There was an exciting, romantic element to our secret rendezvous but for the most part, they just made me nervous. Part of me was convinced we’d be caught at any moment and our worst fears would become reality. Every time the news came on or I saw a paper, my heart raced with fear. “I’ll be so glad when all of this is over,” I confessed and took a long sip of coffee, then cupped the warm mug with both hands. “That brings up something we need to talk about. In a perfect world, where will we be when all of this is over?” “What do you mean?” I asked. Ethan ate another bite of his eggs before continuing. “Say you’re cleared before the end of the season and Victor can’t hold the morality clause over my head. Do you want to stay here in Portland? Or should we just assume we’re moving on no matter what happens?” “I don’t know… if you’d have asked me a few months ago, I would have wanted to stay here. But now I’m not so sure. I’d miss my family and friends if we left. But I’d be lying if I said a fresh start didn’t sound like a great idea. What would make you happiest?” He lifted a shoulder. “I just want to play football. I don’t care where, as long as we’re together.” Knots formed in my stomach and I shifted nervously on the bed. “What is it, baby?” he pressed, his voice full of concern. I let out a long, anxious sigh. “We’re sitting here planning our future, but we’re not even sure I’ll have one. I could still go to prison, Ethan. It’s been easy to ignore that with everything slowing down for the holidays. But it’s still there, hanging over our heads. I’ve
been charged with trying to kill a child. What if we can’t prove I didn’t do it? You can’t prove a negative, isn’t that what they always say?” Ethan moved the breakfast trays and pulled me into his arms. “I won’t let that happen, Emily. I’ve already told you, if worse comes to worst, we’ll run. I know it’s impossible not to worry. But you can trust that I won’t let anything happen to you.” I desperately wanted to believe him, but questions kept forming all around me. “What if we can’t run? What if whoever did this frames me for something else? The police could show up at my house unexpected and take me before we have a chance to leave.” “You’re innocent, Emily,” he reminded me, his voice calm but firm. “But if the courts can’t see that the first time around, I’ll hire the best appeals attorneys in the country. And I won’t give up until you’re released. I’ll wait for you and stay faithful to you, no matter what. I love you. And no matter what happens, that will never change.” Talking about my fears had put me in a terrible mood, and I resisted Ethan’s efforts to make me feel better. “Even if I’m cleared of the criminal charges, the board of education could still revoke my teaching license. I’m not innocent of neglect, and they know it. The kids told them I was on the phone when Alfie collapsed.” “You have to forgive yourself for that,” he insisted, pushing my hair back from my face. “But you’re right. You were on the phone. That’s both of our faults, and you’re the one who might have to pay for it. But your life won’t end if your license is revoked. If you couldn’t teach, what would you want to do?” I shook my head. “I don’t know. I never thought about it until this happened. I can’t picture myself doing anything but working with kids. And with this on my record, no one will hire me to do that.” “Well, what was your favorite subject in school?” “I liked English and history… mostly because I’ve always loved to read.” “Perfect. You could go back to school, get your doctorate, and then you could teach at a university. You’d be able to teach what you love to people who actually want to be there… grown people who are responsible for themselves.” I looked at him in horror. “Do you know how long it would take me to get my doctorate? And even with it, there’s no guarantee that I’ll get hired anywhere. And I don’t think I’d enjoy working with adults as much as children.” “I’m just offering a suggestion. Our lives can be whatever we want, Emily. We can be whatever we want. If you love reading and working with kids, we’ll open a children’s bookstore. If you don’t like that idea, we’ll come up with something else. I don’t care if you suddenly decide you want to live off-grid and become a chicken farmer. If you lose your teaching license, it’ll take some time for you to figure out what comes next. But I’m in. Whatever makes you happy, consider it done.” “A chicken farmer?” I teased and smiled, scrunching up my nose. His eyes grew soft as he looked at me. “I was just making a point. But it’s nice to see
your smile has returned.” He planted a firm kiss on my lips and then settled us against the headboard. I curled up against his chest and let out a contented sigh. “You know, since our last fight, you’ve done a fantastic job of making sure I know you’re on my side,” I pointed out. “Thank you for that. It makes all of the uncertainties a lot easier to deal with.” “I’m sorry I ever gave you reason to doubt that.” He kissed the top of my head and held me a little tighter. “As long as I live, I will never regret anything like I regret not speaking up for you when the reporters mobbed me outside the hospital. I will never make that mistake again. I want so badly to take you by the hand and march up and down the streets, telling everyone that I love you. And I love you so much for understanding why I can’t.” “This is bigger than just you and me. The trickle-down effect of a disappointing playoff run or a bigger scandal just isn’t worth it. But the second that’s no longer an issue, I’m going to hold you to that little love parade you just described,” I said, my voice playful and daring. “You can hold me to anything you’d like,” he dared back. I rolled on top of him, letting my bathrobe fall open. He ran his hands down my bare back and I pulled his face to my chest. “Like these?” I whispered, my voice low and sultry. “Anything you’d like,” he whispered back. He kissed my breastbone then took my right nipple between his teeth, pinching gently while he teased me with his tongue. My phone rang just as he moved to the left. “Don’t answer it.” I groaned. “That’s Frank’s ringtone. I have to.” I jumped off the bed. I fumbled in my purse and retrieved my phone, but not before the call went to voicemail. I immediately redialed Frank’s number. He answered on the second ring. “Emily, thank God. I was just leaving you a message. How quickly can you get to my office?” My heart hammered and I pushed a shaky hand through my hair. “I can be there in half an hour. Why?” “I got a call from Nelson. He wants us in his office at ten.” I glanced at the bedside alarm. It was only nine, so I had plenty of time to get to the meeting. I just wasn’t sure I had enough time to psych myself up for it. “Did the prosecutor say what this meeting is about?” I asked, looking at Ethan. The moment I said “prosecutor,” he sprang into action. He took a sweater and a rumpled pair of black slacks from my duffle bag and set up the hotel ironing board. “He didn’t give me any specifics. But my guess is that the police have finally finished reviewing the security footage.” I started brushing on makeup while Ethan ironed my clothes. “Frank… is there any
chance I won’t be going home after this meeting?” “Not unless they somehow have video of you pouring powdered milk into that trail mix.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, I can assure you that didn’t happen.” “Then you have nothing to worry about. Nothing new, anyway. I’ll see you in half an hour.” “See you then.” I ended the call, gripped the edge of the bathroom sink, and took a deep breath. Ethan came into the room, moved behind me, and wrapped his arms around my waist. I leaned back against his chest and met his eyes in the mirror. “This will be good news,” he promised. “This is the call we’ve been waiting for.” “I hope so. Otherwise, it will get a lot worse before it gets better.” “I know you’re nervous. I’m nervous for you. I’ll come to the courthouse. If anyone sees us together, I’ll just say that I’m there as a concerned friend.” I ran my hand down the front of his shirt. “That won’t work and you know it. I wish you could come with me, but you can’t miss practice. The meeting is at ten. I’ll text you as soon as it’s over.” I swiped mascara onto my eyelashes and went back to the bedroom, where Ethan had laid my freshly ironed clothes on the bed. I dressed quickly and slipped on my black ballet flats. As Ethan perched on the edge of the mattress, I stood in front of him and turned in a full circle. “How do I look? Like a responsible adult, or someone who’s been up all night carrying on a secret affair?” “The first one,” he assured me, his eyes boring into me. Blowing out a nervous breath, I reached for my purse and gave Ethan one last hug. “This will be good news,” he assured me again. “In fact, I’m so sure of it, I’m going to arrange for a little private celebration at my place tonight. No more hiding…” The corner of his mouth lifted, the dimple coming on full display. “I’m not thrilled by this new habit of yours to call this an affair.” I smiled and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Your place, tonight. We’ll celebrate and finish what we started before Frank called.” “Careful…” his hands moved down my back to cup my ass, “I just might hold you to that.”
*** “Try to relax, Emily. I know the cops and the prosecutors haven’t been particularly kind to you. But you have to keep in mind that they’re just doing their jobs,” Frank reminded me.
I nodded and buckled myself into the passenger seat of his Audi. “I know. If I didn’t know me, I’d think I was guilty too. Whoever did this did a good job of setting up a circumstantial case against me. I just hope they don’t do it again.” “The more I think about it, the more I think Walt’s right about the parents being the actual target. I’ve interviewed both of the Hollis’s. They both admitted that while they never gave you expressed permission to give Alfie snacks, they knew it was happening. Alfie loved you for it. Who knows how many people learned about your treat stash from them? And those same people would know what Alfie is and isn’t allergic to.” “It does make a lot of sense. But it would have been a lot easier for someone like that to get to one of the kids at home,” I pointed out. “True, but by doing it at the school, they distanced themselves from the suspect list.” I shook my head. “I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation. I keep picturing some faceless person sitting in the dark, contemplating the most efficient way to endanger a child. It makes my stomach turn.” “I’m right there with you. I have three kids of my own. Knowing there are monsters out in the world…” His knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. “I’m a humble servant of our justice system, but if someone put one of my kids through what the Hollis boy endured, I don’t know that I’d be able to resist taking the law into my own hands.” “Yeah. I’m lucky Mr. Hollis has better control over his impulses than his wife does. Otherwise, Dickson would have had to take me to the ER before he booked me. I completely understand why they hate me so much. I just wish their anger was directed at the right person.” “With any luck, we’ll have the blame off you by lunch,” Frank said with a reassuring smile. He turned into the courthouse parking lot and pulled into an empty space near the front entrance. “Just take a deep breath and remember that you’re innocent.” “You’re the second person who’s reminded me of that today,” I told him with a nervous grin. I unbuckled my seatbelt and slid out of the car. I smoothed my wool overcoat, held my head high and followed Frank into the courthouse. We rode an elevator to the third floor, where a painted sign on the window told us we’d reached the prosecuting attorney’s office. The heavy glass door opened into a bland, expansive room. Florescent lights hummed overhead, and dingy blue dividers sectioned the space off into tight cubicles. I followed Frank through the maze of desks, the drab brown carpet feeling like Astroturf beneath my feet. The door to Nelson’s office was on the far wall, and I drew a lot of disapproving glances as we made our way across the room. Ignore them. Most of them know less about what’s going on than I do. They’ve just been reading the papers. The sensationalized version is always more fun. Frank knocked on the hollow plywood door and we were immediately instructed to come in. Nelson was behind a wide desk that had been wedged into a room roughly the size of Ethan’s walk-in closet.
“Have a seat,” he instructed with a wave to the mismatched chairs in front of us. Frank and I squeezed in beside each other and he folded his hands on top of the desk. “I trust you both had a good holiday?” “As good as I could expect, given the current situation,” I replied, doing my best to keep my voice warm and calm. “You said there was something you needed to speak to us about,” Frank reminded him. “Why don’t we cut the small talk? Miss Kinkaid is anxious to hear if there have been any new developments in the investigation.” “As a matter of fact, we came across something late last night.” Nelson turned his attention to his computer. He tapped his keyboard a few times and then rotated the monitor so all three of us could see it. A grainy black and white image of the school hallway filled the screen. “The resolution on this is terrible. How old is the school’s security system?” Frank asked. “Older than the school,” Nelson replied dryly. “But I hear they’ve recently upgraded.” They must have found something. Ethan was right. This is actually good news… sort of. There’s still a monster out there somewhere. “Miss Kinkaid, I’m going to play the video in slow motion. I’d like you to tell me if you recognize the man who enters your room,” the prosecutor directed. I nodded, my heart racing with a blend of relief and revulsion. Nelson hit play and a few long, tension-filled moments later, a man stepped into the hallway. He was tall and wide with a thick, full beard. What I could see of his face, I didn’t recognize. “I’ll bet you a thousand dollars that whoever this is, he’s sporting the clean shaved look these days,” Frank said. “Only a dumbass would bet against that,” Nelson replied. “Miss Kinkaid, do you recognize this man?” I stared at the image, willing myself to know him. But recognition wouldn’t come. Sadly, I shook my head. “No. I’ve never laid eyes on him in my life.” “Can you enlarge the timestamp?” Frank asked, squinting at the screen. Nelson shook his head. “Not on this screen. But this footage is from nine thirty-seven p.m. on November fourth.” “So from that moment on, the snack drawer was a time bomb.” Fury built within my chest and I wanted to shatter the computer screen. I felt angry and violated, terrified that someone had been able to break into my life so easily. I’d spent weeks in that room, not knowing that a potentially deadly plan had already been set into motion. Frank cleared his throat. “I’m assuming, given this new development, the charges against Miss Kinkaid will be dropped.” Nelson sighed but didn’t meet my hopeful gaze. “Yes, but my office is reserving the right to refile at any time. My boss didn’t want to dismiss them at all. There’s still a lot of
circumstantial evidence against you, Emily. But my gut tells me you’re innocent. And the DA has learned to listen to my gut.” “This is over?” I asked in complete disbelief, emotion threatening to clog my throat. Nelson nodded. “Unless we find our John Doe and he has evidence that he was your accomplice. That’s my boss’ theory.” “That won’t happen,” I assured him, nearly yelling the words. My relief soon gave way to determined anger. “Mr. Nelson, this man broke into my classroom and poisoned an innocent child. I understand that you had to investigate me. But I sincerely hope you had a few people looking into other angles, at least. Please tell me this development hasn’t put your investigation back at square one.” Nelson cringed and glanced down to the desk. Frank sat a little straighter in his chair, holding his head high. “The Portland PD is re-interviewing the Hollis family as we speak,” Nelson confessed. “We’re looking into possible business rivals, anyone who may have it out for the family. I believe they also intend to speak to your boyfriend, Miss Kinkaid.” “I don’t have a boyfriend,” I lied. “My apologies… your former boyfriend,” Nelson corrected himself. “What does Mr. McAlister have to do with the investigation?” Frank pressed. Nelson shrugged. “I think they want to ask if he has any jealous ex-girlfriends or anyone else who may want to get Emily out of the picture.” “To my knowledge, there are no crazy ex-girlfriends. His parents certainly wanted me out of the picture. But that didn’t start until after I was arrested.” Nelson raised an eyebrow and lifted a pen from his desk. “Are you sure? The Montez’s aren’t exactly known for being law-abiding citizens. If they wanted you gone, the could have created a way to justify it.” I considered it for a moment, then shook my head. “Only a sick, psychotic person would intentionally harm a child. Victor and Martha are intimidating… formidable even. And they certainly know which strings to pull to get what they want. But I don’t think they’re demented.” “Still, it may be an angle worth looking into,” Nelson observed. Frank puffed out his chest like a proud robin and pulled a business card from his breast pocket. “Mr. Kinkaid and I were concerned that the investigation might hit a stall once you realized Emily was innocent. This is the name and number of the PI we hired to look into things. He’s already assembled files on several potential suspects who could be linked to the Hollis family. He’s also assembled a file on Ben Simmons, a disgruntled ex of Emily’s. He’ll be more than happy to fill you in on what he’s learned.” Damn it, I told them Ben wouldn’t do this. I can’t believe they had him investigated. I was taken aback by the revelation, but I did my best not to show it. I took a deep, silent breath and let it out slowly to calm myself.
Nelson’s face flushed red, but he took the card. “Thank you. I’ll pass this on to the lead detective.” I cleared my throat. “Mr. Nelson, what does this new development mean for my teaching license?” “You are no longer under investigation, Miss Kinkaid. The decision of whether or not you’re allowed back in a classroom lies with the school board. I imagine your principal or superintendent knows how to proceed from here.” I nodded. “I’ll call the school as soon as we leave.” “Is there anything else you need from us?” Frank asked, pulling at his necktie. It wasn’t particularly warm in the room, but I understood why my lawyer might be feeling a little claustrophobic. “That’s all for now. Stay in town, Emily. And watch your back. Until the intruder is in custody and can speak to his motives, I think it’s best that you take some extra safety precautions.” I paused at the door, pressing a hand against it to keep steady. “You think I’m in danger?” Nelson shrugged again. “I think given everything we’re unsure of, it’s best if you’re hyper-aware of your surroundings. The first attack was indirect, so I don’t think anyone’s going to pop out of the bushes and grab you. Just pay attention to what’s happening around you… at all times.” “I will,” I promised. “Thank you, Mr. Nelson.” Frank and I filed out of the office, through the cubical labyrinth, and into the hallway. I waited until we were outside to vent my frustrations. “I can’t believe you and Walt had Ben investigated after I told you he isn’t capable of doing this,” I snapped, my hands on my hips. Frank paused a few feet away from me and turned with an impatient glare. “Look, Emily, I know this had been incredibly stressful for you. But that doesn’t mean you get to control the investigation. If we hadn’t looked into Ben, that would be another thing on the Portland PD’s expanding to-do list. You were right. We didn’t find any reason to believe he was behind the attack. And now the PD can verify what we’ve already found and move on to more important leads.” I instantly deflated. “Oh… well, that makes sense. I’m sorry I yelled.” “It’s okay. Now, let’s get going. You have some calls to make.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I waited until I was home to start making my calls. Nelson’s final words had left me feeling on edge, and I’d learned my lesson about talking on the phone when my attention should be on something else. I did a quick scan of all the rooms to make sure nothing was out of place, my phone in hand in case I stumbled upon something suspicious. When I was satisfied that everything was in order, I sat down on the couch and dialed my uncle’s cell number. He answered on the first ring. “Hey, kiddo. What’s going on?” “I just left the prosecutor’s office. The police found footage of an unknown man breaking into my classroom one night in early November. The charges against me have been dropped.” I pulled the phone away from my ear quickly as Walt let out a loud whoop. “Oh, Em! That’s fantastic news.” I could practically feel him beaming through the phone. “Nelson warned me that they’ve reserved the right to refile,” I said, a weird combination of laughing and crying hitching the words. “If the investigation turns anything else up on me. But he doesn’t seem to think I’m guilty. It was actually a pretty good meeting.” “Sounds like it was a wonderful evening. I certainly hope your exoneration gets as much press as your arrest did. Does this mean you and Ethan will be staying put?” “I don’t know,” I said, sitting back on the couch in pure relief. “We won’t make any decisions until the season is over.” “What did he say when you told him the charges were dropped? Is he on his way to stand up to his parents as we speak?” “I haven’t told him yet. You were my first call.” I covered my eyes with my hand, trying to hold back the tears threatening to escape. “Thank you so much for hiring Frank, Uncle Walt. And for being here for me through all of this.” There was a long pause and I heard the click of his loud swallow. “You don’t have to thank me, kiddo. There’s nowhere else I would have been. Thank you for calling me first. It means a lot.” “It’s instinct,” I told him. “But you’re welcome.” “This calls for a celebration. Call Ethan and your friends and tell them to meet us at Vinicio’s at eight. I’ll call and reserve one of the private tables. Drinks and dinner are on me tonight.” “You don’t have to do that,” I argued. Vinicio’s was one of the most expensive Italian restaurants in the city. I didn’t expect Uncle Walt to be able to get a last minute reservation, and there was no way I wanted him to spend that kind of money. “I can and I will,” he countered. “Don’t sweat it, kiddo. I’ve been flying Mr. Vinicio to
LA every Tuesday for the past three months. He’s more than happy to pay me with a meal instead of cash every now and then. I’ll get off here so you can share the good news with everyone else. Pamper yourself today, you deserve it. I’ll see you at eight. Love you, kiddo.” “I love you too, Uncle Walt. I’ll see you soon.” I ended the call and immediately dialed Ethan’s number. It went to voicemail after four rings. I hung up and texted him the news and the dinner invitation. I managed to reach Melissa while she was on lunch. Much screaming and laughing ensued. She was thrilled and promised to meet us for dinner. My conversation with Linda was almost identical. I spoke with Principal Matthews, who was delighted to hear that the charges were dropped. He promised to schedule the hearing with the school board and to put in a good word for me with the members. He warned that I may be put on probation, but assured me that there was an excellent chance I’d be allowed back at work when school resumed after the new year. When I ended the call, I felt on top of the world. And I had seven hours before I had to be anywhere. I’m sick of being behind closed doors. I’m going shopping. And I’m going to get my hair and nails done. And if I happen upon a reporter, I’ll tell them all about how my name’s been cleared. I grabbed my purse, pulled on my overcoat, and headed back into the world. I drove to NoBu, a neighborhood a little south of me known for its boutiques, restaurants, and nightlife. For the first time in my life, I shopped like money was no object. Ethan and I were finally going to be free and I wanted to look my best when we were out together. In three hours, I put a two-thousand-dollar dent in my savings. My spending spree didn’t end at the clothing stores. I found a salon with open appointments and proceeded to get caramel highlights in my chestnut brown hair. A manipedi and a quick change later, I walked into Vinicio’s feeling like an entirely new person. “Good evening,” the hostess greeted me from behind the polished mahogany station. “Table for one?” She spoke with a thick Italian accent and looked like a grandma from a pasta commercial. “I’m actually meeting a group. I believe the reservation is under Kinkaid,” I replied. Recognition flashed across her face and she gave me a full smile. “You must be Miss Emily. Yes, follow me. I believe you’re the last one here. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Your uncle talks about you all the time. He called today and said he needed our best table for you.” I followed her through the dim, elegant dining room to a circular booth in a far, private corner. Uncle Walt, Claudia, Linda, and Melissa were already arranged around the table. I hugged them all and sat down, checking my phone again to see if Ethan had called. I hadn’t heard from him all day, and I was starting to worry. I’m sure he got caught up in a late practice. They are playing a bowl game in a few days, after all. He’ll call when he can. “Emily, you look fantastic,” Melissa gushed. “I almost bought those exact pants last
week.” I smoothed the legs of my new grey linen slacks and smiled back at her. “Great minds think alike. Uncle Walt told me to pamper myself, so I took his advice. I may have gotten a little carried away.” “You deserve it, sweetheart. Did you talk to your boss? Any idea when you get to go back to work?” he asked. “Principal Matthews is scheduling a hearing with the school board. They’ll review the details of the incident, and then rule whether to reinstate me or recommend to the state board that my license be revoked. He seems to think the worst I’m looking at is probation.” “Why is probation necessary?” Claudia asked. “I’d think they’d reinstate you immediately and apologize.” “I didn’t tamper with the trail mix, but I wasn’t paying as close attention to the kids as I should have,” I explained. “I was actually on the phone with Ethan when Alfie collapsed.” “It’s not like you turned your back and left them completely unattended,” Linda interjected. “Mrs. Carver was there doling out cupcakes. It’s understandable that you relaxed a little, knowing there was an extra set of adult eyes in the room.” “I’m fine with serving out a probation,” I assured them. “I think it’s incredibly fair.” A short, jovial man approached our table and reached for Walt’s hand. “Walter, it’s so nice to see you. It makes me so happy that you came here for your special dinner. I trust my wife is taking good care of you?” Walt shook the man’s hand and smiled back at him. “Marie has been wonderful, as usual. I’d like to introduce you to my niece and her friends. Emily, this is my good friend Mario Vinicio. His wife Marie brought you to the table. Mario, this is Emily, and her friends Melissa and Linda.” “It’s so nice to meet you all,” he replied with a nod. “I apologize for not shaking your hands. It’s okay for Walter to smell like garlic and onion, but not you beautiful ladies. Claudia, it’s nice to see you again.” “You too, Mario.” He smoothed the front of his white, tomato-stained apron and turned back to the kitchen. “Your first course will be out in just a second,” he promised. “I’ll check on you again after dessert.” “Thanks, Mario,” Walt called after him. “Did you order before I got here?” I asked. “Sort of. I gave Mario permission to plan our meal. Don’t worry, everything he makes is delicious,” Walt assured me. “Now back to what we were talking about. Did Principal Matthews have any idea when this hearing will take place?” I shook my head. “He’s supposed to call me when the board gets back to him with an
exact time. But he thinks they’ll be able to fit me in before school resumes on the eighth.” “It’ll be so nice to have you back again,” Linda told me. “Sheryl Harper has been covering your class. She’s capable enough, but she isn’t exactly friendly. Your kids asked me when you were coming back every day.” I cringed to hear that my class had been left with a teacher they didn’t like. “She wasn’t that bad,” Linda assured me. “But she wasn’t you.” “Are you nervous about being in the classroom again?” Claudia asked. I shook my head quickly. “I’m thrilled with the idea of being with the kids again, but I’m afraid I’ll be a little jumpy. When I watched that footage… it made my skin crawl. And Nelson seems to think we should be on high alert for another incident.” Uncle Walt’s ears perked up. “What? He thinks you’re in danger?” Damn it. I shouldn’t have said that. But if Walt didn’t hear it from me, he was bound to hear it from Frank. I laid a calming hand on his arm. “He thinks there’s a chance. But he expects it to be similar to what happened with the trail mix, not a direct attack. And that’s if I was the intended target in the first place, which I wasn’t.” “You sound awfully sure about that,” Walt replied, his brow furrowed. “Who would want to hurt me, Uncle Walt? Your investigator already cleared Ben. No one else has motive to want me in trouble. And Frank told me your PI has files on people linked to the Hollis family.” “Still, I think it’s best that you stay at my place until this investigation is over. Or if you must, stay with Ethan. But I don’t want you alone at your place if the ADA has warned you’re in danger.” Damn it, Uncle Walt. “Ethan’s place?” Melissa asked, lifting one eyebrow with curiosity. Uncle Walt turned beet red as he realized he’d spilled my secret. I opened my mouth to defend myself, but Mario chose that moment to reappear at our table. “For your first course, I prepared all of my favorite appetizers. We have muscles steamed in white wine and herbs, hand tossed flatbread with assorted dipping oils, and, of course, some antipasti.” He arranged the dishes on the table, then left again with a bow. The food remained untouched, all eyes on me. “Why would you stay at Ethan’s house, Emily?” Melissa pressed. I may as well tell them. This part was always going to suck. I just need to get it over with. “Ethan and I have been back together for weeks,” I confessed. “How did this happen?” Linda asked, excitement dancing across her face. Melissa was
much less impressed by my news. “You’ve been lying to us?” she asked. I sagged in my seat and gripped my wine glass for support. “Ethan came to my place about a week after we broke up. He apologized. He explained things the way you did, Mel. I forgave him, and he offered to leave the team so Victor wouldn’t have anything to hold over him. But I couldn’t let him do that. Not once I understood how many people it would affect.” “But you didn’t tell us,” Melissa said again. “I know. And I’m sorry. It’s not that I didn’t trust you—” She held up a hand. “That’s exactly what it’s like. Listen, Emily, I’m sure you had your reasons. And I’m thrilled you’re not in trouble anymore. I don’t want to ruin your night, so I’m just going to leave.” She slid down the booth, forcing Linda onto her feet and out of the way. “Melissa, please—” “We’ll talk about this later, Emily.” She rushed from the restaurant without another word. I moved to follow her, but Walt grabbed my arm. “She’ll calm down,” he promised. “Just give her some time.” Linda sat back down and we locked eyes. “Are you mad at me?” I asked, pressing my hand to my stomach. She shook her head. “No. But I haven’t known you as long as Melissa. Her feelings are hurt. But Walt’s right, she’ll calm down. Now tell me what you’ve been up to with Ethan.”
*** I tried to enjoy the rest of dinner, but between Melissa storming away angry and Ethan being MIA, I was too distracted. I did my best to stay engaged in the conversations, but the moment the dessert plates were cleared, I made my escape. I didn’t check my phone until I was safely in my car. Ethan had sent a single text asking me to stop by his place when I was finished at the restaurant. My heart sank and knots formed in my stomach as I navigated toward his neighborhood. He didn’t say anything about the charges being dropped, not so much as a congratulations. And he didn’t apologize for missing dinner. Something else is on his mind. This can’t be good. I pulled up to Ethan’s front door, my entire body shaking as I got out of my Prius. He opened the door before I reached it and wordlessly escorted me inside. His jaw was clenched, and he looked angrier than I’d ever seen him. “Ethan, what’s going on?” I demanded, my words choked with worry. “Did you get
my message about my meeting?” He nodded and pulled me into his arms. “I’m glad the charges were dropped,” he said, his voice almost lifeless. “You look fantastic, Emily. I love your hair.” I gripped his arms, needing his strength to hold on to. “Thank you, but don’t change the subject. You’re scaring me, Ethan. What’s going on?” “Come on. Let’s go sit down,” he insisted, leading me to the sofa. I perched beside him on the edge of a cushion and searched his face, desperate for any sign of what had him so upset. “When practice was over this afternoon, I saw your text,” he began slowly. “I came home to shower and get ready for the dinner.” That explains why he’s wearing slacks and a button-up. “My plan was to stop by my parents, tell them the news, and then meet you at Vinicio’s.” My heart sank. “I take it they didn’t react the way you expected them to?” He shook his head. “They don’t like you, Em. If I were you, I’d take that as a compliment. But it does present us with a problem.” “How?” I demanded. “My name has been cleared. Victor has no grounds to release you from the team.” “He made it clear that he’ll create grounds, if he has to. It wouldn’t be the first time. In a meeting I sat in on as a kid, Victor was trying to force one of his partners out of a casino. The guy wouldn’t play ball. A few days later, he was arrested with twenty kilos of coke in his trunk. He tested clean, mind you, and swore his innocence. But I’d bet every dime I have that Victor planted those drugs.” “You really think he’d do something like that to you, just because he doesn’t like me? And how can he not like me? He and I haven’t even met. And your mother has spent all of five minutes with me. I don’t understand this, Ethan. Do they still think I’m guilty?” He shook his head. “I don’t know. I think it has more to do more with Victor’s will than anything, to be honest. He has twenty years on her. And if I’m still single when he passes, the inheritance is split twenty-eighty in her favor. But if I have a family, it goes to sixty-forty to me.” The information was shocking. “You think she’s sabotaging our relationship over money?” “That’s her motivation for everything else she does,” he replied grimly. “So let me get this straight. If we keep seeing each other, your stepfather will probably set you up to take a fall for something you didn’t do so he can force you off the team because your mother is worried about how much of his money she’ll inherit?” “That’s basically the gist of it,” he agreed. “It’s disgusting, I know.” “Does Victor know that’s why she doesn’t want us together?”
“I doubt it. Victor gives her what she wants and doesn’t ask any questions. The ironic part is I don’t even want his fucking money. I paid enough attention growing up to know that a lot of it is dirty. And I’ve already earned more than half of his net worth all on my own.” “What?” I knew Ethan had his own money. He’d mentioned his investments and business deals before. But he’d never given me a dollar figure, and I’d never asked. But I knew Victor Montez was worth roughly three billion dollars. He gave me an amused smile. “I told you I could afford to give you whatever kind of life you wanted. Did you think we’d be using my parents’ money?” “No… I… you never. More than half of Victor’s net worth? How?” “You know how you send out announcements when you graduate high school and college?” “Yes. I wish I could graduate twice a year. My uncle sent announcements to practically everyone we’d ever met. I think I raked in about two grand when I graduated high school, and five after college.” “Exactly. Now imagine you’d sent your announcements to five hundred of the wealthiest people in the world.” “Oh my God. How much did you get?” “High school and college put together, I got half a million dollars in graduation money.” My mouth fell open. “I know… that’s kind of disgusting too. But I saw the money as my way to break away from my parents. I started investing in the stock market. When that started getting a little too risky, I cashed out and began investing in startups. I now own modest pieces in an extensive portfolio of worldwide businesses.” I squinted, trying to understand. “What type of businesses?” “All kinds. Restaurants, e-commerce companies. My EnvisonTech stock is probably worth the most. I bought low when they first went public and held out when they went through all that trouble last year. But those are just a few of the dozen investments I’ve made. We’ll go over them later; we’ve got more important things to think about at the moment.” “Your parents.” The words came out half cringe, half sigh. “I don’t see what there is to think about, Ethan. If they don’t want us together, there’s not much we can do to change that. We’ll just have to keep hiding until the end of your season. And I guess this means we’re moving.” Ethan nodded. “If I’m right about why my mother doesn’t want us together, there’s no way I can play for the Stallions next season.” I gripped his hand, running my thumb softly over his thumb. “And you aren’t ready to
retire… even though you can already afford to live another hundred lifetimes without ever working again.” “I’m not ready to retire,” he agreed. “I still have four or five good years in me. And I definitely don’t want this nightmarish season to be my last. But I’ll retire now with a smile on my face if you tell me Portland is home.” I leaned into him. “I’ve been here longer than anywhere else. But home has never been a particular place for me. Wherever the people you love are, that’s home. And I love you, Ethan.” “Everyone else you love is here,” he reminded me. “I feel selfish for asking you to leave them.” “No law says we can’t move back when you finally do retire,” I pointed out. Ethan relaxed against the back of the couch and pulled me to his chest. “You know we’ve spent a lot of time talking about the future, but we’ve been dancing around one particular topic.” “What topic is that?” I asked, already knowing exactly what he was talking about. “Well, you’re willing to move away with me. You’re talking about moving back together years down the road… but neither of us have ever mentioned the ‘m’ word.” I snuggled closer. “I just assumed we were on the same page about that.” “Oh yeah? What page are you on?” he asked playfully, squeezing me a little tighter. “The page where we get married and live happily ever after. What page are you on?” I leaned back and stared at him, pretending to be worried. “That page, baby. Definitely that page.” My stomach twisted as he cupped my cheeks in his hands and kissed me hard on the lips. He pulled away, suddenly giddy with excitement. “Did we just get engaged?” “I think so,” I agreed with a grin, happiness coming out of every pore. “Do you want me to get down on one knee and do this the right way?” I shook my head. The corners of my mouth ached from smiling so hard, but I couldn’t stop. “I think the way it happened is perfect, thank you very much. It was exactly like the way we met… unplanned, unexpected, and exactly what was supposed to happen.” I kissed him again, slowly this time, reveling in the way his body felt against mine and the knowledge we’d be together forever. Ethan kissed me back just as passionately before pulling away in a sudden panic. “Shit, was I supposed to ask for Walt’s permission?” “No,” I assured him with an amused grin. “He’d see that as archaic. He won’t be ‘giving me away’ either, though I’m sure he’ll walk me down the aisle.” “Let’s go ring shopping,” Ethan insisted. He kissed me again, then pushed me off his lap and moved for his keys.
“Slow down,” I teased. “We can’t so much as have a cup of coffee together right now, remember? What do you think your parents will do if they wake up tomorrow to see pictures of us ring shopping all over the internet? Besides, it’s like ten-forty-five. Jewelers aren’t open.” “You’re right,” he agreed, sinking back onto the sofa. “I’m just too excited. I want to make this official and put a ring on your finger before you change your mind.” “That’s the last thing you ever have to worry about,” I assured him. I snuggled up close again and looked into his clear blue eyes. “This has been hands down the best day of my life. This morning, I was terrified I’d be carted off to prison any day. I was afraid we didn’t have a future. And now… now everything is so perfect. I love you so much, Ethan.” “I love you too, Emily. And I’m committed to making sure you have the perfect future you deserve.” I crawled back onto Ethan’s lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. I lowered my face to his, teasing his skin with my lips. “I think a celebration is in order, Mr. McAlister,” I whispered. Ethan shivered beneath me and ran one hand up the back of my neck, cradling my head. “I think you’re right, Mrs. McAlister-to-be,” he replied before pressing his mouth into mine. We moved together with fluid motions until I was on my back with Ethan hovering above me. I fumbled with the buttons of his dress shirt, unable to see what I was doing because I refused to take my lips off of his. “Just rip it,” he directed urgently, dropping his lips to my neck. He teased it with long, passionate kisses and then sat up as I gripped either side of his collar. I tugged hard, sending mother of pearl buttons in all directions and exposing his perfect, chiseled chest. Ethan pulled the shirt down his arms and tossed it to the floor as I ran my hands down his hard abs. He unfastened his belt and kicked off his slacks as I slipped my hand down his boxer shorts. I gripped his long, thick cock and stared up at his perfect body. Ethan closed his eyes, moaning in pleasure as I stroked him. “Oh God, Emily. I want you right now.” “Then take me.” I released him and stripped out of my clothes in record time, desperate to be filled. He stood and stepped out of his boxer shorts before lifting me into his arms. I wrapped my body around Ethan and his cock pressed into my pelvis. I lowered one hand and pushed the head of it inside me as Ethan carried me toward the bedroom. “Oh Christ, Emily,” he said into my hair as he staggered down the hallway. He let me fall a little, impaling me deeper. I held Ethan tight and with each step he took, his cock rubbed against a different place inside me. When we finally reached the bed, Ethan laid me on my back and drove the rest of his shaft deep. I cried out with pleasure and pulled Ethan’s face to mine.
“Open your eyes,” I whispered. I tightened my pussy around him as I spoke and Ethan’s eyelids fluttered for a moment before opening. “I love you,” I told him. I was so happy and so emotional, it was all I could do not to break out in tears of joy. “And I love knowing that no matter what happens, we’ll have this for the rest of our lives. I’m going to make you so damn happy, Ethan McAlister,” I promised. Ethan rocked in and out of me, never breaking eye contact. “I love you too, Emily. You’ve already made me the happiest man on Earth. If I had my way, we’d never leave this bed.” He dropped his lips to my breasts, licking and teasing them as he thrust into me, harder and faster each time. He pinched one of my nipples between his teeth, the other between his fingers. I felt my eyes roll back in my head and he lifted his hand to my face. “Eyes open,” he reminded me, stroking my cheekbone. I opened them and Ethan smiled, thrusting deeper. “Are you close, baby?” He thrust again and I moaned, too overwhelmed with pleasure to form words. “Me too,” he whispered back. He hovered above me and covered my face with soft kisses. I moved beneath him, meeting him thrust for thrust. “I’m going to come,” he warned, his eyes fluttering. I held his face and he focused his gaze on me. I wanted to tell him I was close too, to just keep doing exactly what he was doing. I couldn’t speak, but Ethan seemed to read them in my eyes. He lowered his lips to mine and kissed me, our tongues and mouths twisting. We came together. Our lips never parted. Our gaze never broke. It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Emily, relax. You and Melissa have both had time to calm down. You just said yourself that talking things out went well yesterday. As soon as she gets here, we’ll break open the wine and you’ll see that everything’s back to normal,” Linda assured me. I sank down onto her white sofa and stared at the pregame show. “I know you’re right about Melissa. I have a bad feeling about the game. I can’t stand the thought of Ethan being hurt and not being able to get to him.” It was New Year’s Day, and I was at Linda’s house to watch Ethan’s bowl game. Henry’s mother had broken her leg two days before and was in Atlanta taking care of her, leaving just us girls. Melissa and I had spoken the night before, not wanting to carry our fight over into the new year. “Ethan’s going to be fine. And look at it this way. If he gets a little bumped or bruised, the end of the season will be over soon. I still can’t believe you’re moving. Any ideas where you’re going yet?” I shook my head. “It all depends on which team offers Ethan the best deal. He feels pretty confident that he’ll get multiple offers. But we won’t know for sure until he’s able to actually talk to people about it. We should have a pretty good idea sometime around Easter.” “That doesn’t give you much time to find a job,” Linda warned. “Are you thinking about taking a year off?” “I hope not. We’ll be in a new city and Ethan will be working a lot, so I’ll need something to do with my time. And I can’t imagine doing anything else. I wouldn’t be a very good stay at home girlfriend.” Linda gave me a sly smile. “Girlfriend?” she asked, her brow piqued with curiosity. “You’re willing to pick up and move God only knows where with the man. I’m pretty sure that makes you a little more than his girlfriend.” “Says the woman whose boyfriend just picked up and moved here from Atlanta,” I teased back. I had every intention of telling my friends Ethan and I were engaged, but I wanted to wait until the three of us were all together. At that point, only Uncle Walt knew. He gave Ethan and me his blessing and started pitching the pros of a double wedding. Linda frowned. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Henry’s been in Atlanta almost as much as he’s been here.” “Are you worried?” I asked, my voice full of sympathy. “A little,” she confessed. “I don’t think he’s cheating on me or anything. But I think leaving his old life has been a little harder than he expected it to be.” “I’m sure he’ll adjust,” I promised. “I hope so.”
A knock echoed through the room and Linda rose to her feet. She padded across the polished oak floors and opened the door. Melissa stumbled in, her arms loaded with pizza boxes. “Sorry I’m late,” she offered. She set the boxes down on the coffee table and struggled out of her bulky coat. “The pizza place screwed up our first order of wings, so I had to wait for the second batch. They threw in some free breadsticks though, so I forgave them. Did I miss kickoff?” “No, you’re just in time.” I slid over on the couch, making room for my friends to join me. Linda disappeared into the kitchen and returned a few moments later with plates and a huge roll of paper towels. I uncorked the bottle of red, already waiting on the coffee table, and poured us each a glass. “I can’t believe we’re having a football party,” Linda said with an amused grin. Like me, she’d never taken much interest in sports before I met Ethan. “I can’t either,” Melissa agreed. “And I’d just like to say that this is awesome. It’s so weird to hear the two of you talk about interceptions and yard lines, but in the best possible way.” “Want to hear something even weirder?” I asked. “Always,” she replied, her voice piqued with intrigue. “For the next few months, we’re going to be talking about things like centerpieces and maids of honor dresses,” I announced, my cheeks hurting with the enormity of my smile. “What?” Melissa squealed. “I knew it,” Linda added triumphantly. “When did this happen?” Melissa pressed. “Just a few days ago. Obviously, we won’t be making any public announcements for a while. Ethan and I were talking about our future, and it just sort of happened. I don’t have a ring yet or anything, but I’ve honestly never been happier.” “I’m thrilled for you, Em,” Linda gushed. “Me too,” Melissa added. “I can’t believe you’re marrying Ethan McAlister. This is all so insane.” “I know. I keep expecting to wake up and realize that it’s all been a dream.” “So we’re planning the wedding in the next few months?” Linda asked. I nodded. “I want to do it before we move.” “That makes sense,” she agreed. “You know we’ll help any way we can.” “Of course we will. But right now, we’re missing kickoff,” Melissa announced. She grabbed the remote and turned up the volume. Linda opened all of the food, and we gorged ourselves while watching Ethan lead his team to one of the most definitive wins in football history. The Stallions beat New Orleans seventy-two to seven. We opened a third bottle of wine to celebrate the victory.
“You know, Emily, this is a win for you too,” Melissa told me. “After the way Ethan played tonight, he’ll have his pick of teams once he leaves the Stallions. The two of you have an incredible future in front of you.”
*** “Good morning, sunshine,” Ethan greeted me as I stepped into the kitchen. Christmas vacation was over, and I was about to set off for my first day of work after Alfie’s incident. I was nervous but thrilled to be with my students again. Ethan stood behind the stove, scrambling eggs. He folded them onto a plate, added fresh fruit and a yogurt parfait, and set the food on the kitchen table. “Breakfast is served, darling.” He pulled out my chair and I smiled back at him as I sat down. “You’re in a good mood,” I said, biting into a ripe strawberry. “I’m in the best mood,” he agreed. “I’ve made a decision.” “What’s that?” “I’m hot right now, baby. You saw the way my offense crumbled during the bowl game. Newscasters are saying they’ve never seen a single player carry a team the way I did. Victor would look like a fool if he cut me, regardless of the reasons. So today, I’m going to tell my parents exactly where they can stick their opinions. And then, I’m going ring shopping.” I gaped at him, another strawberry stuck between my lips, mid-bite. It dropped to my plate. “Are you sure about this?” I hesitated; my nerves were already on edge without the added pressure of dealing with the Montez’s. I wanted to go public with our engagement more than anything, but I worried Ethan was feeling a little too cocky after a string of big wins. “I’m positive. If Victor tries to pull anything, we’ll go public with our side of the story. I think I know someone who’d put us in front of the camera,” he teased. “I’m sure Melissa would love the story,” I agreed. “But we’re so close to the end of our original plan. I’m not sure rocking the boat is a good idea.” “We’ll be fine, Emily. I promise. You’re just nervous about today. That’s completely normal after everything you’ve been through. But the moment your kids start filing into the classroom, your nerves will disappear. We’ve been through hell, Em. But it’s over now.” I didn’t feel as confident as Ethan, but I wanted to. I was tired of the sneaking around and hushed phone calls. I decided to take a leap of faith. “Okay, baby. This is your career and your family we’re talking about. If you think it’s safe to tell them the truth, I’m in.” He smiled and kissed the top of my head as I ate another bite of my eggs. “Perfect. Now, you don’t want to be late on your first day back. Eat your breakfast, and I’ll take you to your car.”
“Just think, baby,” I said with a smile. “This is the last time you’ll have to sneak me in and out of your house. No more hotel stays, no more takeout food.” “I’m still very much in favor of takeout food,” he teased. “But yes, no more sneaking around. In fact, I think we should make a public spectacle of ourselves in the very near future.”
*** Ethan was right. The moment my students started arriving that morning, all of my nervous energy disappeared. They greeted me with wide smiles and squeals of delight, begging me to never leave them again. Under the advice of the school counselor, my kindergarteners weren’t told that my absence had anything to do with what happened to Alfie. They asked me where I’d been, and I told them I had some grown up stuff I had to take care of. They accepted my simple explanation and asked if we could have a longer than normal story time, as their substitute hadn’t been a fan of reading out loud. “She played books on tape, Miss Kinkaid,” Parker Murphy complained, his pudgy lower lip turned down in the most adorable pout. “It wasn’t good.” “We’ll definitely have extra-long story time,” I promised. The morning was fairly uneventful, and the kids and I happily fell back into our old routine. As Principal Matthews had predicted, the school board had put me on probation instead of reinstating me completely. But fortunately for me, they appointed Linda to supervise me. I was required to check in with her twice a day, and she had been asked to pop into my room unannounced periodically. So really, it was if nothing had changed at all. I wasn’t on recess duty, so I was able to take a little time to myself after my class finished eating lunch. I walked the abandoned halls, picturing the man who’d broken into my classroom and trying to understand his motives. Knowing someone had invaded the school so easily was unsettling, and I couldn’t get it off of my mind. Distracted, I walked straight into Ben as he stepped out of the gymnasium. It took us each a moment to recover from being startled, and then we stared at each other awkwardly. “Hey, Emily,” he finally spoke, shoving his hands into the front pocket of his baggy athletic pants. “How’s your first day back going?” “Pretty good,” I replied, my voice light and easy. I no longer held any ill will toward Ben. He’d certainly screwed me over, and he’d acted like a child after Ethan and I got together. But given recent events, he was the least of my problems. “I’m glad,” he said, his eyes shifting around the empty hallway. “Look, I know I’m a bastard for the way things ended between us. And I know cornering you in the breakroom and outside the assembly was way out of line. I… I didn’t handle things well, Emily. I’m sorry about that.” “Apology accepted.” “Really?” he pressed.
“Really,” I assured him and actually meant it. “Look, Ben, I was pissed by how things ended too. But in the long run, you did me a favor. Everything happened for a reason. I’m happy now… truly, almost disgustingly happy.” “I’m glad to hear that, honestly. And I’m so glad they lifted your suspension. When I found out what happened to Alfie, I wanted to call and check on you. I never for a second believed that you poisoned that little boy, Em. I can’t imagine how being accused of it felt.” “It wasn’t my finest moment,” I agreed. “I’m just happy Alfie doesn’t have any lasting damage. Though I don’t blame the Hollis family for deciding to homeschool.” Ben nodded. “I’m surprised there hasn’t been more of that since news got out about the intruder. Any idea who that guy was?” I shook my head. “None. You?” The cops had passed the intruder’s picture around the faculty, but to my knowledge nothing had come from it.” “I wish I did. That ass deserves to rot in jail for the rest of his life. You know, for a while… once I realized how out of line I’d been, I worried you might think I had something to do with it,” he confessed. “It never even crossed my mind. Other people suggested it,” I admitted. “But I told them they were off base. We’ve had our issues, Ben. But I know you’re not a monster.” “I appreciate that,” he replied, his voice genuine. “I really hope we can be friends, Emily. I know we’ll never be BFFs or anything. But I don’t want us to hate each other.” “I don’t hate you, Ben. And I don’t see what the occasional friendly chat in the hall could harm.” But don’t press it, buddy. We won’t be the type of friends who hang out. Ben’s face relaxed into a relieved smile. “Thanks, Emily. I know this may be pushing it, but maybe the next time Ethan’s cousin is in town, we could all go out to dinner. I promise I learned my lesson about straying. I won’t be that kind of guy anymore.” If I’d had any idea what Ben was talking about, I would have been furious that he was trying to get me to hook him up after everything he’d done. But Ethan had never mentioned any cousins, so all I felt was confused. “Cousin?” I asked. “Which cousin?” “The pretty little blonde. She said her name was Heather.” “Oh, Heather. I didn’t realize the two of you had met.” I wasn’t about to tell him I had no idea who Heather was. Ben nodded. “She was here. If I remember right, it was the Monday before Halloween. I was working late with the sixth-grade basketball team. She stopped by the gym, introduced herself, and asked where she could find you. I gave her your room number. Didn’t she mention we’d met?” I have no idea because I don’t know who the hell she is. “Sorry, Ben,” I said with an amused shrug. “I guess you didn’t make an impression.”
He blushed and looked at the ground, awkwardly shuffling his feet. “I suppose it would have been pretty weird, anyway.” “Yeah. We can be friends, but I think me setting you up on dates crosses the line. I’m glad we talked things out, but I need to get back to my room. Linda will be bringing the kids in from recess soon.” “Of course. Thanks, Emily. I’ll talk to you soon.” He ducked back into the gym and I carried on toward my classroom, a thousand questions and scenarios going through my mind. Ethan’s never mentioned anyone named Heather. And I’ve certainly never met any of his cousins. There’s only one explanation for this. The intruder had an accomplice. She came in to pinpoint my classroom, and he came back a few days later to tamper with the snacks. But why? Who were they trying to hurt, and which of us were just innocent bystanders? I had tons of questions, but nowhere to go for answers. I was tempted to send Ethan a quick text and ask if he had a cousin named Heather, but I knew I had to wait until after school. Getting caught on my phone my first day back was the last thing I needed. I pushed the new information from Ben to the back of my head and met Linda and the kids as they filed in from outside. “Can we have one more story time, Miss Kinkaid?” Stella Benton asked. “Absolutely,” I agreed with an indulgent smile.
*** “Calm down, baby. Just take a deep breath. This will be over soon. And it won’t be as terrible as you think.” I rumpled my face into a frown and gave Ethan my best “you’ve got to be kidding me” stare. “Okay, that was a lie,” he agreed with an amused laugh. “It’s going to be God awful. But we’ll survive. And as soon as it’s over, I’m going to take you home and show you just how much I appreciate you sitting through this with me.” A week had passed since Ethan stood up to his parents about our relationship. They’d reacted exactly how Ethan expected: they were pissed, but Victor hadn’t mentioned sabotaging Ethan’s spot on the team. Martha called Ethan that morning and insisted that we join them for dinner, so they’d have a chance to get to know me. Ethan and I both knew their motives weren’t as innocent as they’d have us believe. “Are you sure I look okay?” I asked, smoothing the skirt of my emerald satin cocktail dress. We were eating at the Montez’s home, but I still felt underdressed. “You look fantastic,” he assured me again. He turned the steering wheel to the left and the truck glided up a majestic cobblestone driveway. The house at the end of it looked more like a centuries-old resort than a single family home. The stone walls and thick glass windows looked as formidable as their owners.
“This is where you grew up?” I asked as Ethan slid the truck into park. “Not really. Victor owned the place long before we met him. But we spent most of our time in Nevada so he could keep an eye on some of his bigger investments. Mom and Victor didn’t move in full time until after he started the team.” “This place looks like it needs a drawbridge and moat.” “I know. It’s Medieval and I hate it. But we don’t have to stay long. I promise we’ll make our escape the first chance we get. Are you ready?” “As I’ll ever be,” I agreed with a sigh. Ethan got out of the car and walked around to open my door. I took his arm and we walked up the stone steps together. When we reached the door, Ethan knocked once. “You knock at your parents’ house?” I whispered out of the corner of my mouth. “They like to keep things formal,” he explained. The door swung open and a woman in an honest to God maid’s uniform greeted us with a warm smile. “Mr. Ethan, it’s so good to see you. It’s been too long.” “Thank you, Carlotta. It’s nice to see you too. This is my fiancé, Emily Kinkaid. Emily, this is Carlotta Moore. She’s taken care of me as long as I can remember.” “It’s nice to meet you, Carlotta.” “You too, Miss Emily.” She looked me up and down, smiling her approval before turning back to Ethan. “Your mother and Victor are in the dining room enjoying a cocktail. Dinner will be ready shortly.” “Looking forward to it. I guess we’d better go join them.” Carlotta disappeared through a swinging oak door and Ethan led me through the expansive marble entryway. Oil paintings in antique gold frames adorned the walls and it seemed like everything I laid eyes on was made of glass or stone. I wondered if all of Ethan’s childhood homes had been that cold and unwelcoming. We passed through a doorway into a formal dining room with the largest crystal chandelier I’d ever seen. A long, narrow table ran the center of the room, and Mr. and Mrs. Montez were already seated at the far end. They didn’t stand to greet us. “Ethan, it’s about time you got here,” Victor greeted in a booming voice. “We were just about to pour our second round. Sit down.” “Good evening Victor, Mother. It’s so nice to see you,” Ethan replied, ignoring the hostility in Victor’s voice. “I don’t believe you’ve met my fiancé. This is Emily. Emily, my stepfather, Victor.” “It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Montez,” I offered. “Yeah, you too,” he replied, staring at the table.
“Mother, you remember Emily?” “Of course. It’s very nice to see you again, dear. Would you like something to drink?” “No, thank you,” I replied as Ethan pulled out two chairs opposite his parents. “I have to work tomorrow, so I’ll just stick with water.” Marsha studied me for a moment, her nose turned up as if I smelled bad. “Very well, then. More for the rest of us. Ethan?” He shook his head. “No, thank you, Mother.” We sat in awkward silence for a few moments before I cleared my throat. “Thank you so much for having us over to dinner. It’ll be nice to have a chance to get to know each other.” She sneered at me again and drained her glass. “So Ethan tells me you’re engaged, but I don’t see a ring on your finger.” “We’re having Emily’s ring made,” Ethan replied. “I felt it was only right for a one of a kind woman to have a one of a kind ring. If all goes as planned, it will be ready early next week.” “I’m sure it’ll be stunning,” Marsha said, her voice flat. A few more moments of silence passed, and then Victor and Ethan launched into a lengthy strategy discussion about the team’s next playoff game. I zoned out of the conversation, very aware of Marsha’s piercing eyes on me. It was tough to sit there and be polite when I had so many suspicions swimming around in my head. After my conversation with Ben, I casually asked Ethan if he had any cousins. He listed several, including a woman named Heather. When he questioned my curiosity, I told him I was working on the guest list for the wedding. I didn’t want to make any accusations about his family until I’d worked things out in my mind. I was almost certain that Heather had been at the school under Marsha’s orders. Ethan’s mom had orchestrated the entire incident as a way to push me out of her son’s life. If it hadn’t been for the school’s security cameras, and my ex-boyfriend, she probably would have succeeded. Marsha and I ate our roasted duck and vegetables in relative silence while the men continued talking about the upcoming game. When Carlotta finally cleared our plates, my heart danced at the thought that the evening was finally over. It had been boring, but relatively painless, and I wanted to escape while our luck held out. Victor and Marsha had other ideas. Victor pushed his chair away from the table and motioned for Ethan to join him. “Let’s have a glass of brandy in the library. I ordered a box of Cubans the moment the embargo was lifted and they just arrived this morning.” Ethan stood and threw a questioning glance my direction. I gave him a slight nod, letting him know I could hold my own with his mother. “Men will be men,” Marsha sang as they left the room. She moved to the nearby buffet and poured herself another cocktail.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like something a little stronger?” “I’m sure,” I replied. “I prefer not to drink on school nights.” She nodded and returned to her chair. “But that will all change soon, right? I can’t imagine you’d keep teaching once you’re married to my son.” “I love what I do, Mrs. Montez. I don’t plan to give up my career after I’m married.” “With all due respect dear, I’m not sure corralling snot-nosed children for twenty-two thousand dollars a year quite counts as a career. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t give that up to stay at home and dote on Ethan.” “First of all, my children aren’t snot-nosed,” I countered, trying and failing to keep calm. “And I’d never give up teaching, just like Ethan won’t give up football. You know better than anyone that he could afford not to work. He does it because he feels driven to.” “And you’re the same way?” she pressed, her voice thick with doubt. “Yes, I am. Mrs. Montez, I’m not a gold digger, if that’s what you’re trying to imply. I don’t need extravagant things. If I did, I’d have chosen a different profession and earned the extravagant things myself. I understand why you have your doubts. Ethan and I haven’t known each other that long, and our relationship has gotten very serious, very quickly. But I’m with him because I love him, no other reason.” She looked at me, thoroughly amused. “That was a beautiful speech, darling. Tell me, was it your passion for the children that made you turn your back on that poor little boy until he was nearly dead?” Her stabbing words cut through my last remaining ounce of self-control and I let my mouth fly without thinking. “Don’t you ever mention that child to me again,” I snarled. “How dare you? I’ve been sitting here all night biting my tongue because you’re Ethan’s mother and this is your house. But you just crossed the line. I know what you did, Marsha. And I’m going to prove it if it’s the last thing I do.” Exaggerated shock washed over Marsha’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Oh yes, you do. I know that you sent your niece to the school to figure out where my classroom was.” “My niece?” she asked, still pretending to be confused. Her refusal to admit what she’d done fanned the flames of my rage. “I know why you did it too,” I continued. “Ethan gave me the whole sick explanation. You have the gall to sit there and insinuate that I’m with Ethan for money. And the whole time you’re the one pulling strings and threatening children, all to make sure you inherit the bulk of Victor’s estate. Does your husband understand the lengths you’ve gone to to keep your hands on his cash? Or does he just do whatever you ask to keep you out of his face?” “I knew you weren’t as sweet and innocent as Ethan wanted us to believe,” Marsha hissed. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Emily. I haven’t threatened anyone. I’m simply trying to ensure my son’s future happiness. And I’m quite certain he
could never be happy with you. After the way you’ve spoken to me tonight, I’m even more determined to keep you away from my son.” She stood and pointed to the door. “Now get the hell out of my house. I’ll let Ethan know you’re waiting outside.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Geez, kiddo. That woman sounds like a real piece of work. Do you really think she was behind Alfie’s incident?” Uncle Walt asked. I stabbed a bite of salad from my bowl and nodded. “It’s the only thing that makes sense, Walt. I haven’t figured out how Marsha knew about Alfie and his allergies. But I’m convinced she’s the one who sent those people to the school. I just don’t know how to prove it.” I shoveled the ranch soaked lettuce into my mouth while Walt chased a mouthful of his BLT with iced tea. “Is there any chance that PI of yours did any digging into the family’s past?” I asked after I swallowed. He shook his head. “No. But I’ll have him get started on it asap. Honey, does Ethan know that you think his mother did this?” “No,” I confessed. “I told him that Marsha and I had gotten into an argument over the wedding, and that’s why she kicked me out. I know he claims not to feel anything for her, but she’s still his mother. I don’t want to make any accusations until I have hard evidence to back them up. Anything less could just put too much stress on our relationship.” “More stress than keeping the secret?” he pressed. “Believe me, I’ve weighed all of my options. I want to be wrong, Walt. I love Ethan and in an ideal world, his family would eventually accept me. My gut tells me Marsha is guilty. But if I’m wrong, it would make for unnecessary drama for the rest of my life.” “I agree with you. I’ll call the investigator as soon as we leave here. Aside from your horrendous night at Montez Manor, how’s life been going?” “Fantastic. Being back at school feels so good. And everyone there has been so supportive. But everyone’s still a little on edge. We’ll all breathe a lot easier when we’re sure the school is safe again.” “Have the police kept you up to date with their investigation?” “Nope. I talked to Frank this morning. He said he’d call Nelson and ask if they’ve made any progress.” My phone chimed and we both looked down at it expectantly. “Is that him?” Walt asked. I read the number and shook my head. “I don’t recognize the number. It’s probably another reporter. Since Ethan and I announced our engagement, the phone’s been ringing off the hook.” I silenced the ringer and took another bite of my lunch. “Speaking of engagements, have you and Ethan set a date?” “Not yet. I’d like to have the wedding over the summer so I won’t have to juggle
planning and work. Ethan’s talking about staying with the Stallions for another season, now that Victor’s stopped throwing threats around.” “Do you have to invite them to the wedding?” Walt asked with exaggerated horror. “I’m not sure I can stomach them after everything you’d told me.” “If I’m right about Marsha, that won’t be an issue,” I reminded him. My phone rang again; this time, it was Frank. “Maybe he learned something.” I answered the call and activated the speakerphone. “Hi, Frank. Did you talk to Mr. Nelson?” “Emily… no, I didn’t. Where are you right now?” he asked, his voice tense and pinched. “We’re having lunch at Darla’s Café,” Walt answered for me. “What’s going on, Frank. Have the police found something else connecting Emily to the Hollis case?” “Walt, thank God you’re there. No, this is unrelated to the Hollis case. I don’t want either of you to panic. I’m still not exactly sure what’s going on, but I think you should get down to the North Portland Police Station. I was just there on a pro bono case… Ethan was brought in.” “Ethan was arrested?” I gasped. “Yes. I’m not sure why. I’ve put in calls to everyone I know, but no one’s gotten back to me. I’ve thought about it, and I’m turning around and going back to the station. I’ll tell the cops I’m Ethan’s counsel. If his family’s lawyers aren’t there yet, I’ll have some time alone with him before they show up and boot me out.” “We’re heading there right now,” Walt told him. He laid two twenties on the table, more than enough to cover our salads and teas. We raced out of the café, still on the line with Frank. “Wait for me on the benches in the south atrium,” Frank instructed. “I’ll meet you there as soon as I’ve learned something.” “Will do, Frank. Thank you for letting us know,” Walt replied. I ended the call and Uncle Walt opened the passenger door of his black Charger. “Don’t panic, kiddo. I’m sure this is all some sort of misunderstanding.” He slid behind the steering wheel and navigated the car into traffic. “I missed eight calls while we were talking to Frank,” I told him, lifting my phone. “Four numbers I don’t recognize and four unknowns. What do you want to bet there are reporters all over the city who know more about what’s happening right now than I do? I’m going to google Ethan and see what the hell’s going on.” “Don’t do it, Emily,” Walt insisted. “I mean it. I’ll pull this car over and take your phone away. You just had a firsthand lesson in the way the media bends the truth. Anything you find online will be sensationalized versions of the facts. Reading them will just make you feel worse.”
I knew he was right, but I was desperate to know why Ethan had been arrested. “It feels like the nightmare is starting all over again. Only this time, Ethan and I have reversed roles.” “Why don’t you call Melissa?” Walt suggested. “She may be able to shed light on things and she won’t add a bunch of hearsay and suppositions.” “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.” I hit Melissa’s speed dial and she answered halfway through the first ring. “Emily,” she exhaled my name and I knew she’d been expecting and dreading my call. “Frank just called and told me Ethan’s been arrested. Walt and I are on the way to the precinct.” “How much do you know?” she asked, her voice hesitant with caution. “That’s it. I’ve ignored a bunch of calls that I can only assume were from reporters and I haven’t looked online. How much do you know?” “Late last week, someone called the league’s commissioner with an anonymous tip that several players on the Stallions have been doping. The league’s medical team showed up at the stadium this morning and surprise tested all of the players. Ethan didn’t pass.” “He was arrested for doping?” The words felt strange in my mouth. Uncle Walt was so caught off guard he nearly swerved into oncoming traffic. “Not exactly. Victor was in the locker room when they confronted Ethan with the results. Ethan got a few punches in and Victor had him arrested for assault.” I knew it. Ethan got too cocky and thought he was too invaluable to the team for Victor to touch. “Ethan doesn’t use steroids,” I insisted. “There’s an easy fix for this. As soon as he’s released on bail, we’ll go to an independent lab and he’ll take another test.” “I’m not sure it will be that easy, Em,” she warned. “The league will want to verify any retests themselves. And the blood test isn’t Ethan’s only problem. The league doctors and half the team just saw him beat the shit out of his stepfather. One of my colleagues has already done an on-camera interview with Victor. He has a busted lip and his right eye is swollen shut. It’s not going to make Ethan look good… Oh shit, Emily. My boss wants me. I’ll talk to you soon. I’m so sorry.” “Thanks for filling me in. I’ll call you when we leave the station.” “Ethan was arrested for steroids?” Walt asked. I turned my phone off and slid it into my purse. “No, Ethan was framed for using steroids. When he found out, he beat the crap out of Victor in a locker room full of people.” Walt winced but kept his eyes on the road. “That wasn’t the best way to react. Though I have to admit, I probably would have done the same in those circumstances. So he was arrested for assault?”
I nodded. “I’m sure he’s also been fired. Victor orchestrated the perfect plot to get rid of him. He’ll probably be lucky to ever set foot on a football field again.” “Don’t be so sure about that,” Walt advised. “I know this seems insurmountable right now, kiddo. But people have forgiven much less deserving athletes for a lot more serious offenses.” “Ethan doesn’t deserve this.” “You didn’t deserve what happened to you, either. Neither did little Alfie. Neither of us deserved to lose your parents, and they didn’t deserve to die young. Shit happens every day to people who don’t deserve it, Emily. We can sit here and talk about how unfair it is, or we can focus on playing the hands we’ve been dealt. I for one will be choosing the latter. As soon as we get to the station, I’m calling the investigator and putting him to work investigating Victor, Marsha, and Heather Montez. I’m also going to call a few of my Air Marshal friends. One of them might have a friend in Homeland Security who could help us. I know the family is on the government’s radar.” “You’re right. This isn’t fair, but focusing on that won’t solve any of our problems. Forget what I said back at the café. As soon as I have a chance, I’m going to tell Ethan that I think his mom set me up at the school. Victor may have set him up, but it was on Marsha’s orders. She’s trying to take us both down and if we have any hope of stopping her, we have to work together.” “Now that sounds more like the girl I raised,” Walt declared with a proud smile. “My life is still in upheaval, Walt. I’m not sure the smile is warranted.” “I’m smiling because it just dawned on me that I won’t have to share holidays with your in-laws. I’ll get back to my grim scowl when my relief wears off,” he teased. I smiled, despite my determination not to. “Now that you mention it, I’m pretty relieved about that too.” Walt steered into the parking lot of the police station and we made our way to the south entrance. We stepped through the smudged double glass doors and paced the atrium until Frank finally appeared. “What’s going on?” Walt demanded. “We’ve been here for nearly two hours. Were you with Ethan the whole time? Did his lawyer finally show up?” “You’re looking at his lawyer.” Frank sighed. “Ethan called me not thirty seconds after I got off the phone with you. For obvious reasons, the family attorneys can’t represent him. I was so worried about getting the news to you, the conflict issue didn’t even cross my mind. Ethan asked me to represent him, and I agreed.” “Will he have to stay in custody until Monday?” I asked. I doubted it was a coincidence that Victor set Ethan up to be arrested on a Saturday. “No. I had to pull some strings, but I got a judge to hear the case and Ethan’s bail was set at fifty grand. He can bond out for five, we just need you to get the cash.” “Where am I supposed to get that much cash when the banks are closed?” I demanded. “Ethan’s sock drawer,” Frank replied without missing a beat. “He’d also appreciate a
change of clothes and a pair of shoes. He’s still in his football pants and cleats. I’ve arranged for us to go directly to Portland General for another test once Ethan’s released.” “Melissa said the league would want to verify any retests with their own doctors,” I told him. “And that will be arranged,” he assured me. “Right now, it’s important to get a negative test documented. We’ll release the results to the public immediately to quell some of the media frenzy. You’ll probably be swarmed with reporters when you get to the house. You’re free to deal with them however you’d like.” “I’ll talk to anyone who wants to listen. I’ll tell them all that Ethan’s innocent.” “That’s not exactly the case,” Frank warned. “Ethan may be innocent of the steroid allegations. But he’s guilty of assault. We don’t have a defense, even if we prove Victor falsified his test results. The fact that Victor deserved an ass whooping didn’t make it legal for Ethan to give him one.” “Is he going to serve time, Frank?” Walt asked. “Not if I can help it. We’re wasting time. Walt, it’s probably best if you go with Emily. I’m going to wait with Ethan. Call me if you run into any trouble,” he instructed. “Same to you,” Walt replied. “Tell Ethan we’ll be back as fast as we can,” I called over my shoulder as Walt and I headed for the door. “And Frank? Will you please tell him that I love him?” “Will do, Emily.”
*** “Emily, Ethan, I’m so glad you called. I’ve been so worried about you,” Melissa said, stepping into Ethan’s living room. I hugged her and took her coat. “Thanks for coming over. We have something we want to talk to you about,” I told her. I joined Ethan on the sofa and Melissa took a seat in the armchair across from us. “I take it this isn’t a social call?” she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Not exactly. But for now, it’s all off the record,” Ethan explained. “I can’t wait to hear it. But first, how are you doing? I’m so sorry for the way you’re getting skewered in the news. It isn’t fair.” “Life isn’t fair,” I told her, remembering Walt’s words. “But you’re right, the press has been particularly brutal.” When I returned to Ethan’s house for the bond money, I gave a statement to the reporters gathered outside. I assured them that Ethan was innocent of the doping charges and assured them the full story would soon come to light. Four hours later, Portland General released the results of Ethan’s retest: he tested negative for everything. I’d hoped that would subdue Ethan’s critics, but it didn’t. The public trusted the league’s doctors and assumed Ethan had paid for his negative results. And as Victor
pointed out to anyone who’d listen, Ethan had already proven he couldn’t control his violent temper. Wasn’t that one of the classic signs of steroid abuse? His plan worked perfectly and the country applauded him for firing such an uncontrollable monster. It took me three days to convince Ethan to even talk to Melissa about going public with our side of the story. He kept insisting that he didn’t want to air his family drama for the world to see, assuring me that the truth would eventually come out. But that morning, one of the tabloids had run an old picture of me with a black eye. The picture was from my sophomore year of college, when I’d taken an elbow to the face during a particularly difficult volleyball match. But the paper didn’t explain that I’d been a victim of university mandated PE class. Their headline announced that Ethan McAlister was beating his fiancé. The moment Ethan saw it, he called Melissa himself. “The press isn’t our problem,” Ethan insisted. “My mother and Victor are the problem. What we’re about to tell you doesn’t leave this room, Melissa. Not until we have evidence to back it up.” “And when you have the evidence?” she asked. “The story is yours, if you want it,” he assured her. “Of course I want it. I assume this has to do with the threats Victor made before Christmas?” Ethan nodded. “That and so much more. Emily told you what Victor said when he demanded I break up with her. After the bowl game, I got cocky. I thought there was no way he’d actually follow through with any of it. I was wrong. But my mother’s the one who’s pulling all the strings.” “And we do mean all the strings,” I added. “I’m pretty sure Marsha sent the thug to my school.” As Melissa worked to pick her jaw up off the floor, I explained Marsha’s desperate determination to keep as much of Victor’s money as possible. I also filled her in on Heather and her visit to my school. “This is your cousin?” Melissa asked Ethan. He nodded. “Step-cousin. She has everything in common with Victor except his bank balance. Victor’s a self-made man and hasn’t been particularly generous to his extended family. But Heather would be more than happy to do a little dirty work for a nice paycheck.” “But we still have no idea who the guy that broke into your classroom is?” she continued. “Not yet. But Walt’s investigator is hoping he’ll turn up among Heather’s friends,” I explained. “So at this point, we’re just waiting for the investigators to find something?” she asked. “Pretty much,” Ethan agreed. “Emily wants to give an interview now in an attempt to quite some of the rumors. I feel if we speak out before we have proof, we’ll just make
things worse.” “I agree with you,” Melissa told him without hesitating. “I’m sorry Emily, but he’s right. That headline today was awful. But if you start talking now, without any evidence to back it up, it’s just going to look like a lame attempt to turn the blame away from Ethan. Without evidence, Victor and Marsha can twist your words however they want. You have to hit them with something they can’t deny.” “That’s exactly what Ethan said,” I told her with a frown. “But we have to do something. This is getting out of control.” “Then you need to find proof faster,” she advised. “Has your investigator checked with the airlines to see if Heather flew into town around the time Ben saw her at the school?” “I’m not sure,” I confessed. “Have you shown Heather’s picture to Ben to make sure she’s really the woman he spoke with?” “No.” “You think there’s a chance someone was impersonating my cousin?” Ethan asked. Melissa shrugged. “I think getting a positive ID from Ben is the fastest and easiest way to make sure you’re on the right track.” I turned to Ethan. “Do you have a picture of her?” “No, but I can pull one off the internet. Heather’s the epitome of a social media whore.” Ethan pulled out his phone and a few moments later, he texted a picture of Heather to mine. I forwarded it to Ben and asked if that was the cousin he’d met at school. I checked the time after sending the text. “If he’s still on his usual schedule, he’ll be at the club until nine tonight. We may have to wait a while for a response.” “It had to be Heather,” Ethan insisted. Melissa shrugged. “You could be right. Or your mother could have had someone pretend to be your cousin. They had to have known the visit would eventually get back to Emily. They could be distracting you, drawing your attention to Kansas City.” “That’s an excellent point,” he agreed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve been known to make them. Now, let’s focus on your situation. Obviously, I know you’ve been fired.” Ethan nodded. “The league’s anti-doping commission is reviewing the results of my second blood draw. They may want to retest me themselves. But I’ll eventually be cleared of the doping charges. I’m not sure that will help me get another football contract.” “How do we prove that Victor set you up?” Ethan shrugged. “I’m not sure that we can. He apparently bribed one of the league doctors. But Victor’s good at covering his tracks. And I’m sure the doctor is highly motivated to keep his mouth shut.”
“The league won’t ban you for a simple assault charge,” she assured him. “True. But how many teams will want to hire me knowing I punched out my last boss?” Melissa rolled her eyes. “I think most people who’ve met Victor have had the urge to knock him out. Some people might even offer you a signing bonus to do it again on your way out of town.” Ethan let out a light laugh. “Let’s hope so.” My phone rang, drawing our attention. “Is it Ben?” Melissa asked. “It’s Frank… hello?” “Hey, Emily. I’m sorry to bother you this late, but there’s been a development in the Hollis case.” “A development with our investigation or the police’s?” Ethan and Melissa sat up a little straighter, listening in to my side of the conversation. “The police’s. They’ve identified the man who broke into your classroom. His name is Kelvin Rhoads. He’s a minor league thug who lives in Dallas, Texas.” “Dallas?” “Yes. They now think that whoever set you up is someone connected to Ethan. They’d like to talk to both of you down at the station. I explained that you didn’t want to miss any more class, so the lead detectives agreed to meet with you tonight.” “We’re on our way.” “Emily, what’s going on?” Ethan asked patiently as I started rushing around the room, gathering my things. “The cops identified the jackass who broke into my classroom. His name is Kelvin Rhoads and he lives in Dallas. Does the name ring any bells?” I slung my purse over my shoulder and turned to the door. “No, it doesn’t.” “Well, they want to talk to both of us. Looks like you may have been right, Melissa.” She stood and retrieved her coat. “I’ll go to the station and start researching Rhoads. Let me know if Ben gets back with you about the picture. And call me when you leave the station.” “Thank you, Melissa.” She pulled me into a hug and held me a few moments longer than usual. “This is a good thing, Emily. I know getting called to the station is stressful. But this is the beginning of the end of this nightmare,” she whispered. “Please let us know if you find anything,” Ethan said. He held open the door and we filed out into the night. “I will,” she promised. “Good luck.”
Melissa climbed behind the wheel of her Focus and Ethan and I continued on to my car. I tossed him the keys and settled into the passenger’s seat. “The cops think I’m involved with this because of the Dallas connection, right?” he asked, firing the engine. I reached across the console and put a comforting hand on his thigh. “They don’t think you sent the guy. But they think you may know him. They probably just want to show you his picture and ask a few questions about your time in Dallas.” Ethan nodded, his eyes fixed on the road. The past few months had taken a toll on both of us, and the past few days had been the worst. We were exhausted, frustrated, and furious at our circumstances. But they also brought us closer. I had no idea what the future would hold, but I had no doubt that we’d face it together. After a few silent miles, Ethan cleared his throat. “We need to tell the police our theory about my mother.” I was shocked by his words. Ethan had been adamantly against sharing our suspicions with anyone until we had solid proof. “Are you sure?” He nodded. “We could be completely off base. But if we’re not, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that my mother brought her henchman in from Dallas. That throws the suspicion right back to me. At this point, I completely believe that Marsha is capable of this type of evil. And that alone is reason enough to talk to the police.”
*** “Good evening, Emily, Ethan. Thanks for coming down,” Detective Dickson greeted us. “We’re happy to help.” I was relieved to see his cranky partner wasn’t able to make it to the meeting. “Absolutely,” Ethan agreed. “Detective, I’ve never met anyone named Kelvin Rhoads. And Frank showed me the picture from the surveillance footage. I didn’t recognize him.” “I just have a few questions,” the cop explained. “Miss Kinkaid, I’m sorry for the trouble you went through at the beginning of the case. I hope you understand that I was just doing my job. And all of the evidence—” “Pointed at me. I understand,” I assured him. “And I sincerely hope you’re five times harder on Rhoads once you have him in custody.” “Any idea when that will be?” Ethan asked. Detective Dickson shook his head. “Dallas PD is looking for him, but his last known address leads to a condemned apartment complex. But trust me, he’ll get what’s coming to him once he’s back here.” He cleared his throat and turned to Ethan. “I’m afraid I have some uncomfortable questions. It’s probably best if we speak privately.”
“Emily’s not going anywhere,” Ethan insisted. “We don’t have any secrets. Ask me whatever you’d like.” Detective Dickson nodded. “You’re facing assault charges at the moment. How often would you say you lose your temper like that?” Ethan’s face flushed red. “I’ve defended myself when other guys started shit. But that’s the first time I’ve ever thrown the first punch.” “How many altercations would you say you were in during your time in Dallas?” “Two, both with teammates. Alcohol was responsible for both, and no one held any hard feelings.” Dickson slid Ethan a yellow legal pad and a blue pen. “Please write down their names.” Ethan scribbled on the paper while Dickson continued. “How many women were you involved with while you lived in Dallas?” Here it comes. This is the part he thought I shouldn’t be here for. “That depends on your definition of involved,” Ethan replied, his voice easy. I was thankful we’d already had this awkward conversation and I wouldn’t be learning anything new. But I didn’t relish the idea of going over it again with an audience. “All definitions of the word,” Dickson answered. “Well, we had three female trainers, I had a housekeeper—” “Personally involved, not professionally,” Dickson interrupted impatiently. “I was friends with most of the cheerleaders. Friends only, nothing physical. I casually dated about a dozen women while I lived there.” A blend of awe and disgust crossed the detective’s face. “At the same time?” “No. And not all of the relationships were sexual.” Dickson pointed at the legal pad. “Names,” he grunted. “Did any of these women get a little too attached to you?” he asked. “Any bad breakups? Did any of the women threaten to hurt you or themselves after you ended things?” “Why do you assume I was always the one to end things?” Ethan countered. It was Dickson’s turn to blush. “My apologies. But I still need you to answer the question.” “No, Detective. None of the women I was involved with acted crazy when we ended because there was never anything to end in the first place. I wasn’t ready to settle down. I spent time with women who shared that opinion. There was never any drama.” “You think that one of Ethan’s ex’s hired Rhoads?” I realized out loud. “We’re investigating all possible angles. This is just one of them.” The blonde at the school… maybe she really wasn’t Ethan’s cousin. Or maybe Ethan’s right and Marsha hired Rhoads to throw suspicion toward him. I can’t believe the woman
would rather send us both to jail than part with the extra inheritance. I cleared my throat. “There’s something we should tell you, Detective.” “No, there isn’t,” Frank interrupted. He locked eyes with the detective. “Would you like a few minutes of privacy with your clients?” he asked. “Yes,” Frank replied, his voice scolding. What the hell have I done wrong now? Dickson pushed his folding chair away from the table and moved to the door. “Would anyone else like coffee or danish?” “No, thank you,” we replied in unison. “What was that about?” I asked Frank the moment the door closed behind the detective. “That’s exactly what I want to know. What do you need to tell Dickson?” I took a deep breath and filled him in on our theory. “When did you find out about this Heather woman?” he demanded. “Last week. I’m sorry, I assumed Walt told you,” I replied. “Walt knows about this?” he exclaimed. “Yes,” I confessed, twisting my fingers together. “I’m sorry, Frank. I’m the one who wanted to keep this theory quiet. I’m in an impossible situation and I didn’t want to make accusations about my family without proof.” Frank shook his head. “You should have talked to me as soon as you found out that woman was at your school. You two could get in real trouble for withholding evidence in an ongoing investigation.” I felt my phone vibrate against my leg and retrieved it from my purse. Ben had finally responded to my text. Ethan’s cousin wasn’t the woman he met at the school. I gave Frank and Ethan the news. “What do we tell Dickson?” Ethan asked. “We tell him the truth… mostly. You have to tell him that you talked to Ben last week. Then Ethan was arrested, and you forgot about the conversation. Today, you mentioned the visit to Ethan. You started talking, got suspicious, and sent Heather’s picture to Ben.” “Sounds good to me,” Ethan agreed. The door opened and Dickson peeked his head in. “Do you need a few more minutes?” “No, we’re ready for you,” Frank answered. The detective sat back down and took a long sip from a small Styrofoam cup. “What did you need to tell me, Emily?” I repeated exactly what Frank suggested, with a few added embellishments. “We were
going to call you as soon as Ben got back with us. But as you can see, that just happened.” “This is fantastic,” Dickson announced. “I’ll speak with Mr. Simmons tomorrow. Once I get him to narrow down the timeline, I’ll have my guys review the security footage again. If we can ID the female subject, we’ll double our odds of tracking these people down.” I exchanged a glance with Ethan and he cleared his throat. “Detective, there’s another angle you might want to look into.” “What’s that?” Dickson looked up from the notepad he was writing on. Ethan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think my parents are involved,” he confessed. “My mother, mostly.” “Interesting… what makes you think that?” “After Emily was arrested, my parents tried to blackmail me into breaking up with her. We pretended to stay apart to keep them pacified. When Emily’s name was cleared, I expected them to relax. Instead, Victor made it clear he would tank my career if I didn’t do as my mother said. I believe you’ve seen the rest play out in the news.” “You think your parents sent our suspects to the school?” “I think it’s possible. I think my mother is capable of anything,” Ethan agreed with a cringe. I knew that as much as he hated what his parents were doing, it pained him to give them up to the police. “If your parents were this determined to get rid of Emily, and you believe they’re capable of anything, wouldn’t it make more sense for them to go after Emily directly? Why involve the Hollis boy at all?” the detective countered. Ethan shrugged. “She must have trusted someone would notice Alfie collapse, and he’d get his Epi-pen in time. Emily’s ruined and sent to prison, but Marsha has no actual blood on her hands.” Detective Dickson shook his head. “For what it’s worth, I believe your stepfather set you up on the doping. But I’m not buying your theory that your mother is involved with the Hollis case. To be honest, this interview was just a box I had to check off the list for the sake of being thorough. We have to investigate all connections, and Dallas connected our guy to you. But I think the Hollis family was the intended target. I expect our mystery woman will be linked to them, somehow. Is there anything else I need to know before we wrap this up?” Ethan and I both shook our heads. “We’ve told you everything, Detective. Like I told you the first time I was in this room, we want to do everything we can to help,” I replied. “Do you happen to know Mr. Simmons’s schedule? I’d rather not interrupt any of his classes if I can help it.” “His planning period is from two to three. If you want, I’ll tell him to expect you.” “That will be perfect,” he agreed. He got back on his feet and ushered us out of the
room. “Just hold tight, kids. I know this has been rough. But now that we have pictures of two suspects, it’s only a matter of time before they’re in custody.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“I can’t believe how many reporters are outside,” I groaned, my stomach churning with nerves. I looked around the packed courtroom and wondered how many of the spectators believed I was a battered girlfriend. “It’s going to be okay, kiddo,” Walt assured me. “Frank told me he spent a lot of time on the phone with the prosecutor this morning. I don’t think this hearing is going to go the way you’re expecting.” “I hope you’re right. But I have to say I’d have a little more faith if Frank were here. Ethan’s hearing starts in five minutes,” I whispered, my pulse racing. After a lot of thought, Ethan decided to change his plea to no contest to the assault charges instead of continuing on with a trial. Frank spoke to the prosecutor, who agreed he wouldn’t push for jail time. I stared at Ethan as he sat quietly at the defense table. I wanted so badly for the nightmare to be over for him. I said a silent prayer that the prosecutor would keep his word and Frank finally pushed through the courtroom doors. “Sorry,” he whispered as he passed us. He moved with quick, excited gestures as he made his way to the front of the courtroom. He dropped a file on the prosecutor’s desk before taking a seat next to Ethan. They huddled together and after a few moments, Ethan pulled away looking just as excited as our lawyer. Oh my God. Did we finally catch a break? A wave of adrenaline washed over me and my heart skipped with excitement. Something happened and by the looks of it, it was good news. “All rise,” the bailiff instructed. “This court is now in session. Her Honorable Judge Liesel Henshaw is presiding.” A tall, formidable looking woman with a round face stepped through the side door and settled down behind the bench. “You may be seated,” she called out. She slid a pair of reading glasses up her nose and peered down at the file. “We’re here to discuss the charges against Ethan McAlister,” she began. “Mr. Feldstein, feel free to begin your opening statement.” The prosecutor rose to his feet. “Your Honor, the defendant himself has admitted he assaulted Mr. Montez. Why he entered a not guilty plea is beyond me, quite frankly. The defense is going to try to persuade you to believe Mr. McAlister was provoked, and therefore not responsible for his actions. I will call multiple witnesses who witnessed the attack first-hand and can attest to the fact that Mr. McAlister was completely in control. I trust that your honor will see the defendant’s excuses for exactly what they are: excuses.”
The prosecutor returned to his chair and Frank left his. “Your Honor, the state’s witnesses will not be necessary. We’re willing to concede that Mr. McAlister hit Mr. Montez several times with his closed fist. We simply request that the court listen to a new witness who just came forward this morning.” “If you’re admitting your client’s guilt, I think we’re done here,” the judge replied, her voice irritated and dismissive. “Your Honor, due to my client’s profession, the state has charged him with seconddegree assault. They basically declared his body a deadly weapon. I feel the new witness will shed light on my client’s behavior and perhaps persuade you to reduce the charges.” “Mr. Feldstein?” the judge asked. He cleared his throat and rose slightly out of his seat. “If the defendant is admitting guilt, the state is fine with the defense’s request.” “Very well, counselor. But make your point quickly.” “The defense calls Doctor Harold Levin to the stand,” Frank announced. A tall man with gray hair and fallen, defeated shoulders made his way to the stand. The bailiff swore him in and Frank approached the stand. “Doctor Levin, please tell us where you’re employed.” “I am the lead physician for the National Anti-Doping Initiative.” Frank nodded. “You drug test athletes predominately, yes?” “Yes,” he agreed, his eyes darting nervously around the room. “Were you present when the defendant was tested at Stallions Stadium on Saturday, January ninth of this year?” “Yes,” he agreed again, his voice heavy with guilt. “The results of that test?” “They were positive.” “Positive… are you aware that seven hours later, the defendant had a second test, which came back clear of any drugs? And that he’s passed two subsequent tests?” “Yes, I’m aware.” “Your lab is currently verifying the results of those tests, correct?” “Correct.” Where is this going? The doctor was sweating so hard, I half expected him to melt into a puddle on the witness stand. “Doctor Levin, how long do anabolic steroids stay in someone’s system?” “Two to three months, in most cases.” “As an expert in this field, how do you explain the contradicting test results?”
The doctor let out a long breath and closed his eyes. “I altered Mr. McAlister’s results at the request of Victor Montez.” I must be dreaming. This is too perfect to be reality. “Did Mr. Montez pay you to alter the results?” Frank pressed on. “No. Mr. Montez has certain… evidence of a personal indiscretion. He blackmailed me into changing the results.” “Thank you for coming forward, Doctor Levin. I have no further questions.” Frank returned to his table and the prosecutor sprang to his feet. “Doctor Levin, what is the nature of this so-called evidence Mr. Montez has against you?” The pained look on the doctor’s face made my heart ache for him. I hated that the prosecutor asked the question, but I was curious to hear the answer. “I cheated on my wife,” Levin confessed. “It happened several years ago, at one of Mr. Montez’s casinos. He has video that I thought would ruin my life.” “And why have you come forward now? Did Mr. McAlister offer you protection, money?” “No, sir. I came forward because it’s the right thing to do. It’s what I should have done in the first place, after Victor confronted me with the video. I confessed to my wife yesterday and called Ethan’s attorney this morning. I fully understand that coming forward means the end of my career. But I couldn’t live with myself if I hadn’t.” The prosecutor nodded. “Did Mr. Montez tell you why he wanted you to tamper with Mr. McAlister’s test results?” “He said Ethan wasn’t doing as he was told and needed to be taught a lesson.” “Thank you, Doctor. I have no more questions.” “The witness is excused,” the judge declared. The prosecutor stayed on his feet. “Your Honor, the defendant has already admitted his guilt. The state is willing to reduce the charge to fourth-degree assault, in light of the new witness.” “Very well, counselor. I approve. Mr. McAlister, please stand.” Ethan and Frank rose to their feet. “I hereby find you guilty of assault in the fourth degree. I understand that Mr. Montez provoked you, and I find it appalling. As was your reaction. I’m sentencing you to two years of probation and a six-month anger management program. I understand that violence is a part of your life, Mr. McAlister. But keep it on the football field. If I see you in my court again, I won’t be so lenient.” “Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a grateful nod. “Court is dismissed,” she declared. She halfheartedly knocked her gavel on the desk
and Ethan turned to me with a sad smile. I leaned over the half wall partition and wrapped him in a hug. “This couldn’t have gone better,” I whispered into his ear. “I know,” he agreed, holding me tighter. “A part of me was still hoping I’d get out of this without probation. I need to talk to Frank and see if I’ll be required to stay in Oregon.” “I know you’re worried about your career. But I’m happy just knowing you’re not going to jail.” “That’s definitely an upside,” he agreed, pulling away with a grin. “Congratulations, Ethan,” Walt said. He reached for a handshake and pulled Ethan into a hug. “I’m going to introduce myself to Doctor Levin and thank him for coming forward. Want to join me?” “Definitely,” Ethan agreed. “In a minute. First, I’m going to the restroom,” I told them. Ethan planted a soft kiss on my forehead, then he and Walt joined Frank and the doctor near the witness stand. As the relief started sinking in, I suddenly became very aware of the crowd and all the noise they were making. No one was leaving the courtroom, and I realized they were all hoping for a photo op. Nice. Yesterday, they were ready to lynch him. I was relieved to find the women’s room empty. I peed, washed my hands, and nearly walked straight into Marsha as I swung open the bathroom door. She stumbled backwards a few steps, then met my eyes with a glare. “What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded. I looked her up and down, a bit confused by her sudden change of style. She’d traded in her usually tailored looked for baggy mom jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled into a low, messy ponytail and her face was cosmetics free. She must have wanted to blend in with the crowd. “I came to support Ethan,” she lied. “That’s horseshit and you know it. You set all of this in motion. You have no regard for anyone but yourself, do you, Marsha? You tried to mastermind your own child’s destruction. Not to mention what you did to poor little Alfie.” Her eyes widened and I could tell my last comment caught her off guard. “That little boy from your class? You think I was the one who hurt him?” I could tell the confusion in her voice was genuine, but it didn’t slow me down. “Don’t stand there pretending to be innocent. Ethan and I both know what you’ve been up to. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my fiancé.” I pushed past her and continued on to the courtroom. Walt and the bailiff were waiting for me just outside the door.
“Ethan was about to be mobbed, so a few of the guards escorted him and Frank to the car,” he explained. “Officer Carlton waited to escort us.” “Thank you. I’m ready to get out of here.” I took my uncle’s arm and he gave it a gentle pat. “I’m sure you’re ready to relax, now that all of this is over,” Walt observed. “Who said anything about relaxing? Now that I know neither of us is going to prison, I have a wedding to plan.”
*** “Want another glass of wine, baby?” Ethan asked. He stood at the bar cart and poured himself a third glass of sangria. “No, two is my limit tonight. It’s a school night, remember? Besides, we still have a ton of work to do,” I reminded him. Ethan and I were in a spare bedroom he was converting into a home office. I sat crossed legged on a leather chaise lounge with two different binders in front of me. One was full of wedding plans, the other held ideas for renovating the house. “In the past two hours, we’ve agreed on a location, finalized the guest list, and hired a caterer. What else could we possibly have to do?” I flipped through the wedding binder. “Well, we have to choose our colors, decide if we want a DJ or a band, you still need to pick your groomsmen, we need flowers, linens, the list goes on and on. And we told the contractor we’d have our tile and carpet decisions to him by Friday, and we haven’t even opened that box of samples he sent over.” “Okay, okay,” Ethan relented. “We have a ton to get done. But I feel like we’ve been moving ninety miles an hour since the hearing. I think we deserve to slow down and catch our breath.” I sighed and closed my binders. “I know. But I have so much extra stuff coming up at work. And we’ve booked the garden for June. I feel like if I don’t get everything in order now, we’re going to run out of time.” Ethan sat down on the chaise lounge and wiggled behind me, pulling my back to his chest. “Fine, we can keep planning if you want,” he relented. I pushed the binders to the foot of the chair and snuggled against Ethan. “You’re right. We deserve a chance to catch our breath.” Just as I was getting comfortable, Ethan’s phone rang. He shifted his weight to one hip and pulled the phone from his pocket. He started down at the screen, obviously confused. “Who is it?” “Mark Daniels. He’s the team manager. I’m sorry, Em. I have to take this. Hello?” I slid forward so Ethan could stand up. He crawled out of the chair and started pacing the room.
“No… no, Emily and I have gotten out of the habit of watching the news. No reporters. We have an app that sends unrecognized numbers straight to voicemail… Really? I had my suspicions, but I never imagined it ran that deep. Yes, it is a shame… I see. Are you sure?” Excitement grew in Ethan’s voice and he turned to me with a smile, still talking to Mark. “Thank you very much, Mark. Yes. Yes, I agree. Let me talk to Emily and I will call you back… okay, talk to you soon.” He hung up the phone and let out a triumphant yelp. “What’s going on?” I asked. He pulled me to my feet and wrapped me into a bear hug. “You’re not going to believe this. Victor’s been arrested.” “What?” He released me and nodded, the jubilant smile still plastered across his face. “After the hearing, the prosecutor sat down with Doctor Levin. The doctor gave him enough information for the judge to sign off on a warrant. The cyber division broke into Victor’s email account. He’s been arrested for everything from conspiracy, coercion, fraud, and a host of other crimes.” “I can’t believe it. This is such wonderful news!” I hugged him again, elated. Ethan squeezed me once and then pulled away. “It gets even better. Victor’s in deep shit. So deep that the league has ruled him unfit to own a franchise. Seems old Vic has violated nearly every article of that morality clause he was holding over my head.” “So who owns the team? You?” He laughed, shaking his head. “No. Victor still owns it at the moment. But he’s been stripped of all control and he’ll be forced to sell the team. Mark is in control, temporarily. And he just offered to reinstate my contract, effective immediately.” “Is he going to let you play next Sunday?” I asked, my voice dancing with excitement. The Stallions had managed to win their last two playoff games without Ethan, and they’d qualified to play in the Super Bowl. Ethan had been happy for his old teammates, but I knew it killed him not to be able to join in their victory. “Yep. He doesn’t think my replacement can stand up to Philadelphia.” “This is wonderful. But what about your probation?” I asked. I didn’t want to put a damper on Ethan’s joy, but I also didn’t want to see him get his hopes up, only to be crushed later on. “Mark has already spoken with my parole officer. I have permission to travel with the team.” He raised a hand for a high five. I breathed a sigh of relief and smacked his palm. “This is really happening? Everything’s really working out?” “It’s really happening,” he agreed. “We’re free, Emily. Victor’s going to prison for a very long time. He can’t hurt us anymore. We’re free to be together, to do the work we love, and we don’t have to look over our shoulder wondering what’s going to happen next.
This couldn’t have worked out any better.” “I think a celebration is in order,” I announced. I refilled our wine glasses and passed one to Ethan before lifting mine in a toast. “To our freedom.” “Damn right,” Ethan agreed. He lifted his glass to his lips. I set mine down on the bar cart and boldly stripped out of my clothes, holding his gaze. “I like the way you celebrate,” he told me with a grin. I sat down on the chaise and beckoned for him to join me. When he reached the chair, I grabbed him by the hips. “I’m so proud of you,” I told him, staring up into his blissful blue eyes. I unfastened the button of his jeans and slid the zipper down. Ethan smiled down at me and tugged his pants and boxers down his thighs. His hard cock was eye level and I dove for it, stroking his shaft as I ran my tongue across the head. Ethan groaned and ran his fingers through my hair as I took him deeper into my throat. “Oh God, Emily,” he groaned. I pulled away and stroked him firmly with both hands. “You like that, baby?” I purred. “Yes,” he gasped as I took him into my mouth again. I stroked his shaft with one hand and teased his balls with the other, all the while swirling my tongue around the head of his cock. “I don’t want to come yet,” he growled. He took me by the shoulders and gently pushed me onto my back. I scooted backwards on the chaise with Ethan following on all fours. I propped myself up and Ethan buried his face between my legs. He licked and sucked my clit before pushing his tongue inside me. He stroked my clit with two slick fingers, pushing me closer to the edge. “Are you going to come for me, baby?” he asked, replacing his tongue with his fingers. He found my G-spot and pressed it firmly as he lashed my clit with his tongue. “Yes,” I cried out. “Oh God, Ethan… yes.” He increased the pressure of his mouth, lashing and sucking my clit as his fingers worked their magic. I let out an instinctive growl and tugged Ethan’s hair as I came with a gush. Ethan crawled on top of me and cradled my face, kissing me tenderly as he slowly pushed inside me. I was still riding the waves of my first release, and the throbs of Ethan’s cock sent me directly into my second. I dug my fingernails into his back and held tight as he slowed his body. “Do you need a minute?” he said into my ear and I felt the strain in his words. “No,” I insisted, rocking against him. “I don’t want it to stop. Don’t let it stop,” I begged. Ethan lowered his head and ran his lips across my neck as he drove in and out of me. Maybe it was the way he moved, or maybe it was the relief of finally being free from Victor. It was probably a combination. But the sex Ethan and I had that night was unlike anything I’d experienced before or since. We moved together perfectly, as if we’d truly
become one person. I’d had multiple orgasms before, but this was different. Waves of ecstasy washed over me like the tides, ebbing just long enough for me to catch my breath before overwhelming me again. My body clenched and curled, and Ethan seemed to grow longer and harder with every thrust. When he spasmed and filled me, I finally understood what it meant to feel the earth move. Ethan collapsed by my side and pulled me into his arms. I curled around him, my muscles still uncontrollably clenched. “That was incredible, baby,” he said, still struggling for breath. “Amazing doesn’t even begin to describe it,” I corrected him. “You may have to move me to bed later. I’m not sure my legs will ever work again.” Ethan laughed and sat up. He massaged my thigh and a look of shock crossed his face. “You weren’t kidding. Your legs feel like rocks. Are you okay?” I smiled and ran a finger through his damp hair. “I’ve never been better.”
*** “How’s Ethan holding up?” Uncle Walt asked. “I’m glad his name has been cleared. But I don’t imagine all of the press his parents are getting has been easy.” “It’s been rough,” I agreed. “But I don’t think the news stories are bothering him as much as the calls from his mother. All of the Montez’s bank accounts have been frozen. Marsha expects Ethan to help her leave the country before she’s indicted.” “That woman has some nerve,” Walt said, gritting his teeth. He took a long sip of his chai and stared out the café window. Ethan was at practice and Claudia had been called into the ER, so my uncle and I were having an impromptu early dinner. News of Victor’s arrest spread like wildfire. Several twenty-four-hour news stations had already done hour long specials on the story, recounting all of the past crimes Victor had been suspected of but never charged for. Pundits were in agreement that Marsha Montez was just as guilty as her husband. The FBI had taken control of the investigation, and they were much more closed lipped than the local PD. Ethan and I didn’t know for sure if Marsha was being investigated. But by her frantic voicemails, it was clear she expected to be arrested at any moment. “She really does,” I agreed. “I spoke to Dickson yesterday. So far, they haven’t been able to ID the female suspect. She’s much shorter than the man and she was wearing a ball cap in the surveillance video, so they weren’t able to get a clear picture of her face. But the Dallas PD thinks they’re closing in on Rhoads.” “I know you really want to see Marsha pay for what she did to your student. Personally, I’ll be happy just to see her locked up and out of your life. If the feds take her down before Dickson, so be it.” Our waitress arrived at the table with our food. She set a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup in front of me. Walt opted for pastrami on rye and fries. “Would either of you like another drink from the coffee bar?” she asked.
We both shook our heads. “No, thank you,” Walt replied. She refilled our water glasses and moved on to another table. I dunked the corner of one of my sandwich halves into my soup and waited for the toasty bread to soak it in. “I agree that putting Marsha somewhere she can’t hurt anyone is best for everyone. And ultimately, I don’t care how or why it happens. I just want the Hollis case solved for the sake of the family. They went through hell and they deserve to understand why. However demented the motives were.” “That’s understandable. How close do the Dallas boys think they are to bringing Rhoads in?” he asked, popping a ketchup-drenched fry into his mouth. “They’re pretty sure he’s working under the table at a mechanic’s shop in North Dallas. They haven’t pinned down his schedule yet and they don’t have enough manpower to keep a stakeout team nearby. But they’re driving by a few times a day, looking for signs of him.” “If manpower is a problem, we’ll hire someone,” Walt insisted. “Or I’ll fly down to Dallas and stake the place out myself.” I shook my head, a small smile playing on my lips at the image of Uncle Walt with binoculars glued to his face. “Ethan suggested hiring a PI, but Dickson said it wasn’t a good idea. He said it’s critical that this case is handled by the book. Ethan promised to hold off on the idea for a few more days.” “Well, if there’s nothing we can do about it for the moment, let’s change the subject,” Walt suggested. “I can hardly remember the last time we talked about something other than police investigations and criminal charges. Let’s talk about something normal, something happy.” “Ethan and I set a date,” I told him with a grin. “We’re getting married on June eleventh at the Portland Botanical Garden.” Walt let out an impressed whistle. “Wow. That will be beautiful, Emily. Does this mean you’re going with the big, extravagant wedding Ethan wanted?” When Ethan and I started planning our wedding, I was shocked to hear some of his ideas. His guest list looked like a who’s who of the most influential people in sports, and he suggested we hire the recent Best New Artist recipient to perform at the reception, which he expected to last two days. I’d immediately reined him in, reminding him that the day was supposed to be about us and our future. I wasn’t interested in throwing the Wedding of the Century. I wanted to celebrate becoming his wife with the people who actually mattered to us. “Sort of… we compromised. Ethan has a lot of friends on the team, and I understand why he doesn’t want to leave any of the other Stallions out. So he cut the list to the team and other friends. It’s still going to be five times bigger than I pictured, but Ethan gave up on the two days after party idea.” “I have news on the wedding front as well,” Walt shared. “Claudia and I want to keep things as stress-free and fun as possible. We’re older, and neither of us is interested in having a big formal affair. We’ve decided to get married in Vegas.”
“That’s perfect,” I agreed with a smile. “In fact, I’m jealous.” “Well, we’re planning to do it over your spring break, so you and Ethan can come with us. Maybe you can talk him into it while we’re there.” “I can’t wait. But I’m not sure Ethan’s parole officer will give him permission to fly to Vegas. Which is a shame, because I’d honestly love nothing more than a quickie elopement.” I spooned another bite of hot soup into my mouth and my phone started chiming from my purse. “That’s Frank’s ringtone,” I announced. I retrieved the phone and answered it on speaker. “Hey, Frank. You’re on speakerphone. Walt and I are having an early dinner.” “Walt, you were my next call. I just got off of the phone with Dickson. The Dallas PD picked Rhoads up outside his place of employment early this morning. He postured for a few hours and insisted they had the wrong man. But it didn’t take them long to break him. He gave a full confession. Dickson’s willing to talk us through it if we want to drop by the station. He’ll be there late processing Rhoads’ extradition paperwork.” I breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Did he tell them Marsha was involved?” “I don’t know any details, Emily. Dickson didn’t want to get into specifics over the phone.” “How far are you from the station?” Walt asked him. “I could be there in twenty minutes.” “Emily and I are a little farther out. Meet you there in half an hour?” “Sounds good to me,” Frank agreed. The line went dead and Walt met my eyes with a wide smile. “It’s finally over, kiddo. The Hollis family will have their closure and you and Ethan will be safe from his monstrous mother.” “Ethan… I have to call Ethan. He’s still at practice, but I should probably leave him a message.” I was surprised when Ethan answered his phone on the first ring. “I was just about to call you.” “I’m with Uncle Walt. Frank called and—” “Asked you to get to the police station,” he finished. “I know, I’m already here. Detective Dickson called me out of practice about an hour ago.” Ethan sounded defeated, and panic rose in my chest. Not again. This is supposed to be the end of the nightmare. I swear to God, if Marsha has framed him for something else… “How bad is it, Ethan?”
“It’s not bad… it’s surprising. We were way off track, Em. It’s over now, but we were way off track.” Ethan was silent for a moment and I heard Dickson’s muffled voice in the background. “I need to go, but I’ll explain everything when you get here,” Ethan promised. Walt paid our bill and ushered me out of the café as I spoke. “You’re making me nervous, Ethan. You sound upset.” “I am upset, Emily,” he agreed. “But everything will be okay, and that’s all that matters. I love you and I’ll see you soon.” Walt opened the passenger door of his car and I dropped my phone back into my purse as I buckled my seatbelt and he took his place behind the steering wheel. He peeled out into traffic and got us to the station in record time. We found Ethan and Detective Dickson in the same room we’d met in for our last round of questioning. I took a little comfort knowing that this time, Dickson was the one responsible for giving answers. “Hey, baby.” Ethan rose from his chair and gave me a half hug, extending his other arm to shake Walt’s hand. “Walt, I’m glad you’re here. The fewer times I have to tell this story, the better,” Ethan said, cringing with dread. Walt took a seat at the head of the table while I settled in beside Ethan. Before Detective Dickson could begin his explanation, Frank stepped through the door. “Perfect,” Dickson announced as Frank sat down. “Everyone’s here. As you all know, Kelvin Rhoads was arrested in Dallas early this morning. After a few hours in custody, he broke and gave a full confession. He admitted to breaking into Emily’s classroom and tampering with the snacks. He also gave up his boss.” “Marsha?” I asked. Detective shook his head and looked to Ethan. Ethan took my hand and turned to me with sad, guilt-ridden eyes. “The woman Ben met outside the gym… she was Susannah Cross.” I tried to process the news, not knowing how to feel. “Susannah? But why? You said you were never involved with her.” Walt stiffened his shoulders a bit and I knew he was ready to come to my defense, if necessary. “I wasn’t,” Ethan assured me. “Our relationship was exactly how I described it. She had a tough breakup with one of my teammates. We were friends, and I tried to help her. I never realized her feelings went deeper.” Detective Dickson cleared his throat. “Susannah checked herself into a mental facility this afternoon,” he explained. “I spoke with her mother, who told me Susannah’s had a very difficult time adjusting to life in a new city. For a while, she seemed to be doing better. Then, a little less than a year ago, she became withdrawn again.” “She did better after we became friends,” Ethan explained. “She backslid when I
moved to Portland.” Dickson nodded. “My guess is that she got even worse once she found out Ethan was involved with you, Emily.” I sat silent, trying to make sense of what I was hearing. I couldn’t. “I pushed you at her over Christmas,” I remembered out loud. “I actually asked you to spend time with that terrible woman. I can’t believe she’s responsible… but this doesn’t make sense. If she wanted me out of the way, there were tons of things she could have done that didn’t involve endangering an innocent child.” “Alfie was never supposed to be involved,” Ethan explained, nearly choking on his words. His eyes were watery, but his jaw was locked. “When the Dallas PD interrogated Rhoads, he swore up and down that he’d never heard of Alfie or any of the Hollis’s,” Dickson explained. “Later, when he confessed and gave up Susannah, he explained the full story. Susannah broke into your classroom to learn more about you. When she found the snacks in your drawer and saw a list of allergy cautions, she assumed you were the one with the allergies. You were always the target; Alfie was an innocent bystander.” “Do the Hollis’s know all of this?” I asked, barely able to breathe let alone ask the question, but I needed to know. Dickson nodded. “I went to their house this afternoon and explained everything. They’re relieved Kelvin and Susannah have been caught. But I doubt they’ll be letting their kids out of sight anytime soon.” “I don’t blame them,” I agreed, thinking of that sweet little boy. “So Susannah tried to kill me?” Ethan nodded, his jaw still tight. “I’m so sorry, Emily.” “This wasn’t your fault, Ethan,” Walt assured him. “You didn’t realize Susannah was so troubled.” “I know,” Ethan agreed. “But if something had happened to Emily… I don’t know what I would have done.” “It’s a good thing we pretended to break up,” I realized out loud. “If we hadn’t, she probably would have made another move after her first attempt didn’t work.” The detective nodded. “We’re lucky the Dallas PD caught up to Rhoads when they did. He was supposed to meet with Susannah tomorrow to discuss the next job she had for him.” “What happens to them now?” I asked. “That depends on the Hollis family, to an extent,” Frank broke in. “As the parents of the victim, the prosecutor will take their feelings into account before brokering any plea deals.” Dickson nodded. “I don’t think they found any comfort in the fact that Alfie wasn’t the intended target. But I imagine they’ll agree to a certain amount of bargaining to avoid a
trial. The prosecutor will likely offer to let Susannah serve her sentence at a mental health ward in exchange for a guilty plea.” “I don’t know about the Hollis’s, but I’d be okay with that. I hate what she put us through, and I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive her. But if she’s sick, she deserves treatment.” “That’s very big of you, Miss Kinkaid,” Dickson told me. Walt cleared his throat. “Is there anything else we need to know?” The detective shook his head. “Not at the moment. I’ll keep you updated on the prosecution, but this investigation is officially closed. Miss Kinkaid, you are officially free to come and go from Portland as you please. Mr. McAlister, good luck on Sunday. We’re all counting on you to bring home a win.”
*** “I can’t believe these amazing seats,” Linda gushed, staring down at the field. “And look at Melissa over there in the middle of everything.” I followed Linda’s gaze and spotted our friend. The hottest boy band in the country had just played the Super Bowl halftime show, and Melissa was interviewing them on the sidelines. “You and Ethan giving her that interview was the best thing that ever happened for her career,” Linda continued. “You know she has national networks calling her?” I nodded. “She deserves it. She’s fantastic at her job.” As promised, Melissa was the only reporter Ethan and I spoke to after the truth came out. We sat down with her the morning before we left Portland, and her station aired the segment that evening. Within an hour, the parent affiliate called and requested Melissa cover the game. It was her first national broadcast, and she was killing it. “Melissa’s not the only one,” Walt broke in. “Ethan is on fire tonight. If the defense can get their heads out of their asses, the Stallions are going to take this. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m having the time of my life. And I’m so damn proud of him.” Watching my uncle take such pride in Ethan was the cherry on top of what was quickly becoming my perfect life. Ethan and I had faced hell together and come out stronger on the other side. But it wasn’t just our relationship that thrived. Everyone I knew was happy. Walt was more at peace than I’d ever seen him. He and Claudia were shopping for a new home, and they were both helping Ethan and me plan our wedding. Henry was finally settling into life in Portland. The night before, he showed me pictures of engagement rings and asked my opinion. And Melissa and Ethan’s careers were taking off right before my eyes. The players filed out of their tunnels and the crowd erupted. I spotted Ethan on the field; his eyes were narrowed with focus and he moved with confidence. “He’s got this,” I announced. “I think you’re right,” Henry agreed.
The Stallions started the second half with possession of the ball. Ethan moved for the middle of the field and the crowd started chanting his name. The electrifying excitement of the crowd washed over me, making my pulse race even faster. I kept my eyes fixed on Ethan as the team broke from their huddle. The second half of the game went much better than the first. Ethan and his offense scored on three possessions in a row. The defense held Philadelphia to less than ten yards per possession. “This game is over,” Walt announced two-thirds of the way through the last half. Ethan had just run in another touchdown, bringing the Stallion’s lead up to forty-nine points. Henry nodded. “Philadelphia doesn’t have time to come back from this,” he agreed. “I don’t think anyone told them that,” I said, staring down at the field. Ethan and his team hadn’t let up, but their opponents weren’t backing down either. Ethan snapped the ball and seconds later, a pair of enormous linemen tackled him to the ground. I didn’t bother to watch where the ball went. Panic washed over me and all I could think about was Ethan’s last bad tackle. I held my breath and gripped Walt’s arm, my eyes locked to the pile of bodies on top of my fiancé. One by one, they rolled off of him and Ethan sprang to his feet. “Thank God.” Ethan’s eyes found me in the crowd and he gave me a quick thumbs up before joining his team in the huddle. “Getting knocked down is part of Ethan’s job,” Walt reminded me. “You’re going to have to get used to watching it.” “I’ll never get used to it,” I insisted. “I wouldn’t either,” Claudia agreed. Her face was as white as I imagined mine was and I realized I wasn’t the only one who’d panicked when Ethan went down. “He can obviously handle it,” Linda observed. Ethan faked a toss to one of his receivers and ran for another touchdown, mowing down every opponent in his path with the help of two of his teammates. “Obviously,” Walt agreed. After Ethan’s last touchdown, everyone on the field seemed to agree with my uncle: the game was over, it was just a matter of waiting for the clock to wind down. Philadelphia made a valiant effort to lessen the gap, but to no avail. With forty-two seconds left on the clock, the Stallions gained possession of the ball and Ethan took a knee. The crowd erupted with cheers, whistles, and air horns. Painted fans rushed the field and Ethan’s teammates lifted him onto their shoulders. I knew I didn’t have a hope of reaching him in the chaos, so I watched from my seat. Ethan’s teammates set him back on the ground and dumped a cooler of Gatorade over his head. The crowd closed in and I lost sight of him. “Ethan’s probably looking for you,” Walt insisted. “I’ll brave the madness with you if
you’d like to go find him.” I shook my head. “That would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Besides, I’m sure Ethan’s celebrating the win with his teammates. We’ll wait here and he’ll find us when the madness dies down.” I watched the sea of people in front of us, giddy with happiness. I thought about who I’d been before Ethan, how determined I was to settle down into a routine, structured life. Ethan was the opposite of everything I’d ever thought I wanted. And I was happier than I’d ever thought possible. Ethan emerged from the edge of the crowd and pulled himself over the stadium wall. “Excellent game, son,” Walt offered, patting him on his shoulder pad. “Thanks, Walt,” Ethan replied, his eyes on me. “I’m so proud of you.” I beamed at him before falling into his arms. He wrapped me in a bear hug and lifted me off the ground. I knew there were cameras on us, but I didn’t care. I slid one hand up the back of his neck and pulled his mouth to mine. We shared a long, passionate kiss before Ethan had to leave for after game interviews. The kiss went viral before Ethan finished his first interview. It didn’t bother me in the slightest. Epilogue Three Years and Nine Months Later Ethan peeked his head in through the patio doors and smiled at me as I iced cupcakes at the kitchen island. “Melissa and Dave just got here. DJ took one look at Eli and little Walt in the kiddie pool, stripped down to his diaper, and hopped in. I told Melissa I’d let you know they were here. Do you need any help?” I shook my head, bracing my sore back with one hand. A lot had changed in the last four years, and not just when it came to our house. I was seven months into my second pregnancy, and our little girl was taking a toll on my body. I could have easily hired a caterer, but we were celebrating our twin boys’ third birthday and I wanted to be the kind of mom who baked birthday cakes from scratch. “I’m just about to finish up. Is anyone else here?” Ethan shook his head and joined me in the kitchen. He tossed a handful of sprinkles into his mouth and started arranging the cupcakes on a large platter. “Not yet. Henry called about five minutes ago. They had a hard time finding Hugo’s floaties, but they’re on their way now.” “Walt sent me a text. He said he and Claudia have a huge surprise, but it may make them a little late.” An amused smile crossed Ethan’s face. “We don’t stand a chance against them.
They’re going to spoil our kids rotten regardless of how much we protest.” “That’s what grandparents are for,” I reminded him with a grin. A few weeks before our boys were born, Ethan and I sat down and had a long talk with Walt and Claudia. I’d overheard Walt refer to himself as their great uncle, and I didn’t feel like the title fit. I thanked him for always keeping my parents’ memories alive, but pointed out that for all intents and purposes, he was my father. When I asked if the boys could call him Grandpa, he broke down in happy tears and agreed on the spot. Ethan set the last cupcake on the platter and stood behind me, wrapping his arms beneath my growing belly. I leaned back against him, letting him hold a bulk of my weight. “You’ve done a fantastic job, sweetheart. But I can take it from here,” he insisted. He kept one arm around me and reached for the tray with the other. “Come on. It’s time for you to get off your feet.” He led me outside, where we found more of our friends waiting. Linda and Henry had arrived with their two-year-old son, Hugo, and Ethan’s teammate Elijah was there with his three little girls. All of the kids were playing happily inside the cushioned splash pool we’d had installed next to the adult pool. The adults were scattered about the yard. I spotted Linda and Melissa on lounge chairs, watching the kids. They stood up and hugged me as I joined them. “You look fantastic, Emily,” Melissa told me. “I’m enormous,” I argued. “But thank you.” It had been a few months since Melissa and I had seen each other. Shortly after Ethan’s first Super Bowl win, she’d accepted a job with a national sports network. Her career led her to Dave Hudson, an investigative reporter who worked for an affiliate network. They married after less than a month of dating and welcomed their little boy a year and a half later. They lived in New York City, but they made it to Portland whenever they could. “Cut it out, Em. You’re the cutest little pregnant woman I’ve ever seen. You’re all belly this time,” Linda pointed out. “You’re right,” I agreed. “With the boys, my whole body swelled up like a puffer fish. This time, I just look like I’ve stuffed a half-dozen bowling balls down my shirt.” “You love it and you know it,” Melissa countered with a knowing smile. I cradled my belly and grinned back at her. “I do. I told Ethan last night, I’d have a dozen of them if I could.” I watched my sons laughing and running through the water as fast as their chubby little legs would carry them. The boys were conceived the night the Stallions won their first Super Bowl. They were identical, both the spitting image of their father who joined them in the tiny pool. “Who wants to play water tag?” Ethan called out. The water hit the top of his ankles. He’d have looked ridiculous if the scene wasn’t so adorable.
The kids rushed him with shouts of “we do,” “not it,” and “where’s base?” “He’s really wonderful with them,” Linda observed. “How’s he settling into retirement?” I laughed. “He gave up football, but he’s hardly retired. If anything, he’s working more now that he’s concentrating on his investments full time. But having him home has been wonderful. I’ve been exhausted and he’s picked up all the slack with the boys.” Ethan played a total of four seasons with the Stallions, two of which led to championship rings. After his second victory, he decided to give the sport up for good. He wanted to have more time at home with our growing family, and we were thrilled to have him. Eli and Walt were daddy’s boys through and through, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Dave and Henry joined Ethan and the kids, and my friends and I watched them with broad, content smiles. “I can’t believe the boys are three years old,” Melissa said. “In some ways, it seems like they were just born last week. But if you think about everything that happened right before then, it feels like a lifetime ago.” I nodded, thinking back to the hurdles Ethan and I had to jump to be together. We hadn’t seen either of his parents since the day they were sentenced to prison. Ethan spoke to the judge, urging him to keep Victor and Marsha out of society for the maximum amount of time allowed. The judge was persuaded either by the speech or the sheer volume of convictions against them. Victor was sentenced to ninety years in jail, Marsha sixty-five. There was a chance one of them would be paroled, but they wouldn’t be a problem for a long time. A majority of the Montez’s vast fortune was seized by the government and used to reimburse their victims. The balance was given to Ethan, at Victor’s request. We donated it to a local food bank. Susannah Cross pled guilty to the charges against her. As Detective Dickson predicted, the prosecution allowed her to serve her time at a mental facility instead of prison. She was released after two years and settled down to a quiet life at her parents’ house. She sent me a moving, apologetic letter and took responsibility for what she’d done. Last I heard, she was starting an Etsy shop and saving to move out on her own. I wished her well and prayed she didn’t have a setback. The prosecution wasn’t quite as lenient with Kelvin Rhoads. He was charged with premeditated assault and attempted murder, both with special circumstances given the age of the victim. Prosecutor Nelson offered him a twenty-year sentence in exchange for a no contest plea, and Rhoads decided not to take his chances with a trial. Alfie and Amaya Hollis returned to The Day School for the second grade, after I quit to stay home with the boys. They never forgave me for what happened to their son. And after having children of my own, I didn’t blame them. I knew I’d always carry a twinge of guilt for what Alfie went through, but that guilt is what drove me to do better. When the boys turned a year old, I went back to work part-time as a substitute teacher at a school for special needs children. I planned to take the first year of my daughter’s life off as well, but I knew I’d always go back to the classroom. With Ethan working from
home full time, we had the luxury of being able to tag team the childcare so our kids rarely had to be with a sitter. And when we did need a sitter, Grandpa Walt was always happy to fill the role. “Who wants cupcakes?” Ethan called out once the kids started slowing down in the water. The kids yelled “me” in unison as their fathers lifted them into their arms. “We have to light the candles and sing first,” I insisted, struggling out of the chaise. “Let me help you,” Claudia called out. I turned to greet her as she rushed toward me. “You’re just in time,” I said, accepting her arm. She pulled me to my feet and I noticed she was downright glowing. “What’s going on, Claudia? Does this have something to do with your big surprise?” She nodded and blushed. “Walt’s bringing her in.” Her? I looked up just as my uncle stepped through the open gate with a baby carrier in his arms. “What’s going on, Claudia?” I asked. “Is that a baby?” Ethan added, moving beside me with the boys. He set them on their feet and toweled them off, his eyes fixed on my uncle. Claudia nodded as Walt joined us. I’d never seen him smile so wide. “Emily, Ethan… everyone. I’d like to introduce you to Isabella Rylan Kinkaid.” “When did this happen?” I gushed, staring down in awe at the tiny baby girl. I could tell by her tiny fingers that she was two weeks old, tops. “I didn’t know you were even looking into adoption,” Ethan added. Walt sat Isabella’s carrier down on the chaise so Eli and little Walt could get a better look at their cousin. “We filed the paperwork a few years ago,” Claudia confessed. “We didn’t think we had much of a chance of getting a placement, being so old.” “That’s ridiculous,” Melissa insisted. “People in their late forties have babies all the time.” Walt unfastened Isabella’s safety straps and lifted her from the carrier. I reached for her instinctively and he laid her in my open arms. Little Walt tugged at the bottom of Walt’s shorts. “I like your new baby, Grandpa. But can we have our cupcakes now?” Walt laughed and lifted both of the boys in his arms. “Yes. It is definitely time for cupcakes,” he agreed, turning toward the picnic table. “Will you light our candles?” Eli asked him.
“Of course.” Walt winked at me and sat the boys down on the bench. The other kids joined them, and Walt and Claudia lit the boy’s candles. Everyone started singing Happy Birthday except Hugo, who couldn’t resist shoving his cupcake into his mouth. Ethan leaned against a nearby tree trunk and I joined him, still cradling Isabella. I leaned back into his chest and we watched our sons blow out their candles. “She’s beautiful,” Ethan whispered over my shoulder. “She’s a miracle,” I agreed. “This is a pretty spectacular life we have, Emily.” I shifted Isabella to my left arm and moved Ethan’s right hand over my belly, where our daughter was turning somersaults. “It’s amazingly spectacular,” I agreed. “And it’s only going to get better from here.”
THE END Continue on to read another FREE BONUS, Alice Ward’s most recent release, The Gamble, that is included in this copy!
A Bonus Novel THE GAMBLE Alice Ward
CHAPTER ONE Talen
The lights in the club were too bright, and the music blasted the hell out of my ears. The bass vibrated through my chest as I cursed my current location. Cursed my friend. Cursed myself. And I didn’t even know why I was here. Of all the times I’d been inside the Vegas Sunshine, this was the worst. It was late on a Thursday night, and I’d allowed Brandon to drag me to the outskirts of Las Vegas to pick up women. This wasn’t unusual for either of us. Our weekends began on Thursday nights, and we almost always found ourselves in some club, hitting on any available woman who passed by. I’d always enjoyed myself before. What wasn’t to like? Good music. Great drinks. Gorgeous women. It was everything I wanted. Until it wasn’t. I didn’t know why it happened, but something clicked inside me that night. As I sat across from Brandon at our usual table, my mind drifted. I stared in the direction of the dance floor, but I wasn’t really looking. Plenty of attractive women spread out before me like a delicious, sex-inspired buffet, but I didn’t see any of them. Instead, I thought about my life and the path I was on. I thought about my family and my obligations. I thought about my father’s company. I thought about the things I wanted for myself, and none of those things could be found inside the Vegas Sunshine. “Those two,” Brandon said, pointing across the room. I followed his finger, and my eyes fell on two blonde women leaning against the bar. Their heads were together as they whispered to each other. They were beautiful, their bodies spectacular. Both wore tight dresses that left nothing to the imagination. On any other night, I would have flown out of my seat to talk to them. “What about them?” I picked up my glass of bourbon and took a sip. “That’s them,” Brandon said. “Tonight’s conquests.” I scoffed at the old-fashioned label. “Conquests?” “Yes. Conquests. I’m thinking the wife story this time. Thoughts?” “That again?” I rolled my eyes. “Brandon, our money can get us any girl we want.” It was true. Between the two of us, Brandon and I were insanely wealthy. There wasn’t a woman alive who could reject our advances once they realized the depth of our bank accounts. It was shallow. Totally materialistic. But in my experience, following the money was lucrative for them. “Where’s the fun in that?” Brandon asked with a chuckle. “I need some excitement in
my life. Frankly, so do you.” I shot him a look. “I have excitement. Plenty of it.” “Really?” Brandon scoffed. “Like what?” I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I couldn’t argue with Brandon’s logic. Lately, I’d been a shut-in. While Brandon and I were notorious for hitting the town multiple nights a week, the past couple of months had been anything but interesting. When I didn’t answer, Brandon shook his head and downed his drink in one gulp. He set his glass on the table and turned to face me with a serious expression. “Ever since you joined that crazy father-son program, you’ve been a total bore. “Big Brother program,” I corrected automatically. “You know what it is.” “Yes,” he admitted with a dismissive wave of his hand. “What I don’t know is why you’re wasting your time with it. As your best friend, it’s my job to lighten you up from time to time. I’m just doing my duty here.” I took another swallow. “I see, and getting me laid is your duty?” “Absolutely,” Brandon said with a wink, then stood up and hurried across the room before I could stop him. Tossing back another drink, I watched him cut through the crowd until he reached the two blondes by the bar. They hadn’t moved, and when Brandon approached them, they both turned a sexy smile on him. Even from across the club, I could see the telltale signs of a hot flirtation beginning to emerge. I sat back in my seat and sighed. Brandon wasn’t wrong. About two months earlier, I joined the Big Brother program in Nevada, which meant I was spending a lot of time at the youth center. I had yet to be paired with a specific kid, but I was enjoying the training and meeting many of the program’s members. It wouldn’t be long before I was assigned my own little brother, and when that happened, I knew Brandon’s irritation with me would only grow. Brandon saw my venture into big brotherhood as a colossal waste of time, but I’d been drawn to doing it. My entire childhood was spent alone. My parents weren’t bad parents. They never beat me or were neglectful. In fact, as a child, I didn’t want for anything except their time and attention. Becoming a big brother was my way of giving support to kids who might not have it at home. When I thought back to my own time as a kid, I only wished for one thing — someone to give me their time. I wanted to be that someone for another kid. I couldn’t blame Brandon for questioning my actions. The last thing he expected was for me to become a different person overnight. He just wanted his wingman back. We’d been best friends since childhood. Every adventure I ever had was with him. I knew he only wanted to return to our past shenanigans, but I wasn’t sure I could give him that. When I looked up, Brandon was coming back through the crowd with a blonde on each arm. Fuck. He caught my eye and winked. I glanced away, considering an escape option, but I soon realized there wasn’t a point. Brandon and the girls were already too close. I took a breath and resigned myself to the inevitable encounter.
“Talen, meet Brandi and Tracie. Ladies, this is my boy, Talen.” “Nice name,” Tracie said with an appreciative grin. Her eyes trailed over my body before resting on my face. I smiled back at her politely, and she took it as an invitation to sit down. Brandon and Brandi had their arms wrapped around each other while Tracie slid into the chair beside me. She was so close that I could immediately smell her shampoo. It smelled like vanilla, one of my favorites. I looked over at her, and my eyes fell to her full lips. They were naturally pink and perfectly shaped. When I found her eyes, she stared at me with an attentive gaze. Her interest was obvious. I knew exactly what she wanted. “So,” Tracie said, her hand coming to rest on my thigh. “I heard there were VIP rooms in this club. Is that true?” I nodded and sipped my bourbon. I’d spent a lot of time in the back rooms of the Vegas Sunshine. She leaned hard against me. “I’ve always wanted to check one out.” She gave me a meaningful look, which I ignored. My attention was focused on the drink in my hand, but it was hard to refrain from giving in to Tracie’s desires. She was gorgeous, and she wanted me. Despite my preoccupations, I was still a man, and she was too good to pass up. Making my decision, I set down my drink and stood, holding out my hand. She didn’t hesitate, just grinned as she took it. As we passed her friend, Tracie whispered something in Brandi’s ear, and they both giggled. I pretended not to notice and continued leading her toward the back corner of the club. We stepped up to a dark door. A bouncer stood beside it, but once he saw me, he moved aside without a word. Everyone at the Vegas Sunshine knew me. I opened the door and pulled Tracie into a brightly lit hallway. Passing a number of doors, I walked the blonde down to the first one that said “vacant” and pulled her inside. The room was simple but elegant, with dim lights reflecting off the rich leather couches and chairs. A huge four poster bed took up much of the space as did the chest that housed most of the toys and implements. These rooms weren’t always used for sex, but most often, they were. Only the elite had access. “Wow,” Tracie said as she looked around. “This is amazing.” “It’s alright.” I shrugged and fell onto one of the couches. Damn, I needed to pull myself out of this shit mood. Undaunted, Tracie sat down beside me, and I turned to face her. I took in her features one more time, lingering on her lips and eyes. She stared back at me, and I let my gaze trail down her body. I took in the curve of her breasts and the smooth skin of her thighs. I placed my hand gently on her leg, just below the hemline of her dress. As I found her eyes again, I slid my hand slowly upward, slipping my fingers beneath the thin material. “I’m sorry about your wife,” Tracie said, sympathy oozing from every pore. My fingers froze as her words snapped me back to reality. Fuck Brandon and his theatrics. I’d let my attraction to Tracie guide my actions, and I forgot all about Brandon’s
ploy. “It’s not true,” I said simply, removing my hand from her leg. Her brow furrowed. “What?” I looked her in the eye. “The story Brandon told you… it isn’t true.” Tracie blinked several times in confusion. “Your wife didn’t die?” “No.” I pushed my hands through my hair. “Sorry. I’ve never been married.” Tracie pushed herself off the couch and stood in front of me, planting a fist on her hip. “But why would you lie about something like that?” “Technically, I didn’t. Brandon played you, and I’m telling you what he said wasn’t true.” I attempted to be kind, but deep down, I really didn’t care. If she was naïve enough to fall for such an obvious line, then it wasn’t my fault that her feelings were hurt. And if she couldn’t give me credit for disabusing her of the lie, she wasn’t someone I wanted to be with anyway. She stared at me in disbelief for a fraction of a second before turning and storming out of the room. I could hear her angry footsteps pounding down the hall. With a sigh, I stood up slowly and glanced in the mirror on the far wall. At six-one, I was too tall, and I had to duck down to see my face. My black hair was all over the damn place, and my blue eyes were surrounded by red lines. I groaned at my appearance and knew it was time to leave. I was sure Brandon would be pissed at me by the time I made it out of the VIP room. When I stepped back into the club, my ears immediately began to ache from the loud music. I strode across the dance floor to where I’d last seen Brandon. He was still sitting at the table with Brandi beside him. Tracie was bent over, whispering in Brandi’s ear. Tracie’s dress rode up slightly, and I found myself wishing I hadn’t admitted the truth to her. I would have loved to explore the curves of her ass in private. As I walked over to them, Tracie straightened, caught my eye and glared at me menacingly. Brandi jumped to her feet and took Tracie’s hand. Together, they hurried away from Brandon and disappeared into the crowd. “Hey!”’ Brandon called. “Where’re you going?!” “Don’t bother,” I said, plopping down beside him. He was still staring after the girls. “What the hell just happened?” “She saw right through your lie, man,” I lied to the liar. “The second we got back in the room, she started asking all kinds of questions about my ‘wife.’ She knew it was all a ruse.” He appeared crestfallen. “Damn. It’s always worked before. I must be getting rusty.” I laughed. “Yeah. That must be it.” “Well,” Brandon said, clearing his throat. “We’ll just have to work on it for next time.”
I just shook my head, not sure of what to say. It was amazing how quickly Brandon could shake off rejection. He bounced back faster than anyone I knew. He was already scanning the club for another girl, while I was just ready to go home.
CHAPTER TWO Dani
Every Friday morning, I went to my mother’s tiny house about an hour outside of Las Vegas. It was the same house I grew up in, and not a thing had changed in the seven years since I moved out. The outside siding was still painted the same pale pink, and the front porch was old and worn down. I knew I needed to get someone to fix it, but I just never found the time. Or more importantly, the money. When I stepped inside, I called out to Mom, but she didn’t answer. I laid my purse on the couch and headed toward the back. In such a small house, you could walk from one end to the other in seconds. Only two bedrooms sat at the back of the house — my mother’s and my childhood bedroom. I knocked on my mom’s door softly, pushing it open a few inches. She was sleeping, her fragile body tucked beneath the covers. I smiled to myself and pulled the door closed again. I tiptoed back to the living room and sat down on the couch. She never slept very long. She was in the early stages of dementia, so everything was harder for her than it should have been. Sleeping. Eating. Everything. Amelia Brooks gave birth to me two days after her fortieth birthday. My entire life, we had celebrated our birthdays with joint parties we both loved. My father died when I was only five. He was ten years older than my mother and passed away from a heart attack, leaving me with only flashes of memories of the man he was. Pictures of him were still scattered around the house, and I loved to sit and look at them. When I was young, I would pretend like he was talking to me, telling me all about his life and giving me advice. I soon grew out of the habit, but I still found myself gazing at his photographs from time to time. Since my mother raised me on her own, we were always close. She was my best friend and the one person I always turned to. When she was officially diagnosed with dementia, I felt like my world was ending. At sixty-five years old, I still thought of her as young. Aside from her memory, there was more life in her than anyone half her age. Her dementia was slowly getting worse. For the most part, she was still self-sufficient, but I made sure to visit her a few times a week to make sure everything was in order. As I sat on the couch, I decided to make myself useful and cook up a few meals to put in the fridge. As I stood to head to the kitchen, I heard her stir in her bedroom. Her soft voice was muffled by the closed door, but I recognized her anxious tone. She was always the most confused when she woke up. “Mom,” I said, hurrying into her room. “Mom, I’m here.” “Dani Bug.” Her voice was weak, but she smiled when her eyes fell on my face. I reached out to take her hand and knelt beside the bed. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
“I’m alright, honey.” She pushed herself up in bed and shook her head, raising a hand to her temples. “I was just confused for a second.” “That’s okay.” I kissed her soft cheek. “Are you hungry? Want some breakfast?” “Sure.” She smiled and let me help her to her feet, and we walked into the kitchen together after she visited the bathroom. While I brewed a pot of coffee, she curled up in her usual chair at the little table my dad made many years ago. Her eyes were focused on me as I moved around, preparing breakfast for us both. I made eggs and bacon without much thought, letting my body switch to autopilot. Mom didn’t speak while I cooked. I could tell she was still trying to wake up completely. As I finished breakfast and set her plate down in front of her, she blinked at me, a blank look in her eyes. “What day is it?” she asked with a small frown. I gave her a soft smile. “Friday.” “Okay.” She nodded and began to eat. I sat down across from her and pulled my own breakfast toward me. “What do you think? Is my bacon getting better?” “Not crispy enough,” Mom complained. I laughed. My bacon was never crispy enough for her taste. “I’ll work on it,” I promised. She stabbed at her eggs and slowly morphed into her old self. “So, tell me. What’s going on? Anything new? Or anything old that I’ve forgotten?” I tried to smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. My mother liked to joke about her condition, but I never found it funny. “My art show is on Tuesday. I’m nervous, but I think it’ll go well.” “Tuesday,” she repeated with a nod. “And what day is today?” “Friday,” I said patiently. “Oh!” She shook her head. “Soon then.” “Very soon.” “Are you ready?” I blew out a breath. “I think so. I’ve been preparing for weeks now.” “It’ll be wonderful,” she assured me. She reached across the table and patted my hand. I smiled at her and continued eating my breakfast. “Will Perry make it to the show?” I swallowed my food slowly, taking my time before I looked up at her. Perry was my boyfriend of the past five years, and my mother always found a way to slip him into our conversations. “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “He’s out of town right now. I’m not sure when he’ll be back this time.”
“Out of town?” Mom frowned the way she did when she forgot something. “For business, remember?” I said slowly. Perry had been traveling regularly over the past three years. He was almost always out of town, but my mother often forgot that. “Right.” She nodded slowly. “Right. So, he won’t make it then?” I stabbed another bite of egg. “I hope so. We’ll see.” She slid her folk around her plate, and I could tell she was thinking something. I took a deep breath and braced myself for what I knew she would say. “Dani Bug, I know I’m sick.” My chest tightened. That wasn’t at all what I thought she would say. Whenever Perry was brought up in conversation, she would harp on me about marriage and children. “You’ll be okay, Mom,” I promised her. “No.” She shook her head and put her fork down. Her eyes locked on mine. “I’m serious. I know I’m sick. I know I’m only going to get worse, and honey, I’d really like to see you settle down.” And there it was. “Mom…” I warned. She held up her hand. “No. Let me finish, please. I would really like to see you get married and have children while I’m still around. While I can still remember it. I don’t want to look at my grandchildren and never know who they are. Even if I forget one day, I want to know them. At least, for a little while.” My eyes filled with tears as she spoke. I couldn’t believe her newest tactic, but my heart melted all the same. Her guilt trips about settling down were normally less emotional and more logical. Bringing up her dementia was harsh. I felt like she’d punched me in the stomach. All the air was knocked out of my chest, and I had to calm myself down before I could speak again. “I know,” I finally said. “I know, Mom.” There was so much more I wanted to say, but I couldn’t form the words. I watched Mom finish her breakfast. After cleaning up the kitchen, I started a load of laundry while she got dressed. She called me into her room to help choose an outfit because she couldn’t remember if she was supposed to leave the house that day. These were the little things I helped her with. Cooking. Cleaning. Laundry. Getting dressed. Remembering the days of the week. It was tedious, but I was happy to do it. My mother had taken care of me for forever. Now it was my turn. More than anything, I wanted to make her wish of seeing me marry come true, but I knew that wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon. Despite being together for five years, Perry and I had never once discussed marriage. I thought about bringing it up a million times, but I never did. Part of me wanted to see what else was out there, but I couldn’t end a five-year relationship over nothing more than curiosity. I felt like I owed Perry more than that. Which was a perfectly stupid reason for staying with someone. Gah. It was confusing and
overwhelming and just easier to keep everything the same. When it was time for me to leave, Mom pulled me in for a hug and kissed my temple. I breathed in her scent, wanting to remember every detail about her. “Thank you for coming,” she said. “You’re welcome.” “Honey, what day is today?” she asked again. The backs of my eyes burned. “Friday.” She nodded and turned her attention to the television. I let myself out of the house, locking the door firmly behind me. As I walked to my car, I pulled out my cell phone and went to Perry’s contact. All my mother’s talk about settling down made me…not quite miss him, but maybe think about him more than usual. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to hear his voice. “Hey!” I said when he picked up. “How’s work going?” “It’s insane,” Perry groaned. “I can’t even begin to tell you what I’ve been dealing with.” I closed my eyes, wishing he’d ask me about my day. When the silence stretched, I caved. “I’m sorry. I can’t wait to hear all about it when you get back.” “You won’t be interested,” Perry said, and I could almost hear him roll his eyes. “It’s not your thing.” He wasn’t wrong. Perry’s business had never been particularly intriguing to me, but I did try to maintain a certain level of interest for the sake of our relationship. I wasn’t always successful. “Still,” I said brightly. “I want to hear everything. I miss you so much.” “Uh huh. Listen, Dani, I have to go.” “Already?” I could hear the complaint in my voice. “We haven’t talked in days.” “Sorry, but I have a few more meetings today.” My sigh was loud and long. “Okay. I understand.” “You always do,” he said, and his voice was lighter this time. “It’s why you’re so great.” “Yep, that’s me. Understanding to the bitter end.” Then I remembered. “Will you be back in time for my art show? It’s on Tuesday, remember?” “Oh yeah. Right,” Perry said, and I knew he’d forgotten. “Of course, I’ll be there. Wouldn’t miss it.” “Really?” I couldn’t keep the hope from my voice. Perry had made this promise, to be with me when I needed him, more times than I could count, and he often didn’t deliver. It wouldn’t have been surprising if he didn’t arrive back in town until Thursday or Friday of next week without so much as an apology call.
“Yes,” Perry promised. “Gotta go.” “Okay. Talk to you later. I—” The call dropped before I could finish my sentence. I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it for a second. Perry was busy. His business was important to him, and I never wanted to stand in the way of that, but I hated how much time it took up. He was almost always out of town, and when he wasn’t, he was on the phone or the computer nonstop. Our alone time had become increasingly shorter as the years went by. It was hard to maintain our relationship, but I was comfortable with Perry. Our life together was easy and drama free. When we spent time together, we never argued, and we usually had fun. After five years, I was at ease with him. Still, as I tucked my phone into my purse and climbed in the car, I found myself wishing for something more.
CHAPTER THREE Talen
The rest of the weekend flew by in a haze of drunken debauchery. Despite my desire to return home on Thursday night, Brandon coerced me into staying out later. We then went out again after work on Friday night. And on Saturday. And Sunday. As much as I liked to believe I was slowly starting to rise above this immature lifestyle, it didn’t take much for Brandon to drag me back in. It wasn’t entirely my best friend’s fault, though. Once I had enough drinks in me, I didn’t need any encouragement. After a few glasses of bourbon and a couple shots of tequila, I was usually good to go for the night. When I woke up on Monday morning, I had a pounding headache and no memory of the previous night. I knew that Brandon and I had hit up a few casinos in Vegas, but the rest was a blur. My temples felt they were being pierced by screwdrivers as I slowly sat up in bed. I didn’t want to move, but I knew the longer I stayed still, the worse my nausea would become. I pushed myself back against my headboard and rested my head against the cushions. With my eyes closed, I tried to piece together the events of my night. I vaguely remembered walking from the New York, New York to the Bellagio, but everything after that was gone. I swallowed hard and tasted old tequila at the back of my throat. Nothing could make me blackout quite like tequila. No matter how many times I swore I would never drink it again, I somehow always found myself indulging in the burning liquid one more time. After the waves of nausea began to subside, I opened my eyes and looked around the room. All the sheets were pulled off my bed and thrown haphazardly on the floor. I followed their path until my eyes fell on a naked body wrapped in my comforter. She was lying completely still, her brown hair cascading over her naked back. I squinted, trying to see if she was breathing, but I didn’t see any movement. With a groan, I pushed myself out of bed just enough to nudge her with my foot. At first, she didn’t move, but after a few more nudges, she finally moaned and rolled over. When she flopped onto her back, her bare breasts were exposed. I stared at her in appreciation for a few seconds. Her body was sexy, and I knew without knowing that we had a great time together. Still, when her eyes opened and locked on mine, I immediately wanted her to leave. The last thing I needed that morning was a conversation with a stranger. She sat up on her elbows, not bothering to cover herself, and grinned at me. I didn’t smile back. “Time to go,” I said. “I have shit to do.” “What?” she asked, blinking in surprise. “Out,” I said simply. “Go.”
She pushed her hair back from her face, her brows drawing together with temper. “Are you fucking kidding me?” “Nope.” Without another word, I got to my feet and retreated into the bathroom. I could hear her muttering curse words under her breath while she stomped around the room. As the front door slammed shut, I reached over to turn on the shower. The water was warm, but not quite hot when I climbed in. I would have preferred a scalding shower, but I knew the lukewarm water was better for my queasy stomach. The woman was long gone when I finished my shower. I wrapped a towel around my waist and wandered aimlessly into the living room. I was on my way to get a cup of coffee when a bright green piece of paper caught my eye. It was sitting on the table in my entryway, and I knew who it was from before I picked it up. TBe at the office first thing. -Dad My dad always kept our communication short and to the point. He wasn’t one to leave lengthy messages or go into unnecessary detail. The bright green paper was his favorite because he knew I couldn’t miss it. If he stuck with plain white, I could easily pretend I hadn’t seen it. This way, he ensured I did his bidding. With an irritated exhale, I grabbed coffee and then showered and dressed. I brushed my fingers through my hair and slipped on my shoes. I was out the door in less than ten minutes and was in the office ten minutes after that. Being hungover was bad enough. Having to face my father only made it worse. I could already feel my headache worsening as I stepped into the Gaston Pharmaceutical office building. A cool rush of air conditioning hit me like a slap in the face. I shivered and made my way across the lobby toward the elevators. My father’s office was located on the twelfth, and highest, floor. When he had the building designed, he specifically requested twelve floors. No more and no less. He believed it was his lucky number and would bring his business all sorts of success. Just the thought made me roll my eyes as I pressed the top floor button and waited for the doors to close. On the ride up, I wondered what my father wanted to discuss. He never called me into the office unless it was something important. I stepped off the elevator and immediately came face-to-face with a few of my father’s top executives. I plastered a smile on my mouth. “Henry,” I said with an enthusiasm I didn’t feel. “Trevor. Richard.” “Talen,” Henry said with a smile. He extended his hand, and I shook it firmly. “Meeting with Jacob this morning?” I gave him a salute I immediately regretted. “Always.” “I keep telling him to just turn over the reins already,” Richard said with a chuckle. “From father to son sounds perfect to me, but what are you gonna do?”
“In time, I’m sure he’ll do just that,” Henry assured me. He patted my shoulder and continued down the hallway. I nodded to the other men before turning to face the dragon. Henry, Trevor, and Richard had worked for my father for years. They’d all known me since I was a kid, and somehow, they still loved me. Despite my father’s insistence that I was a continuous disappointment, his executives seemed to believe the opposite. They all trusted me implicitly. In their eyes, I could do no wrong. I knocked on my father’s door and waited for a response. His muffled voice called out to me, and I pushed open the door. When I stepped inside, I immediately searched his face, trying to take his emotional temperature. He was sitting behind his mahogany desk with his hands folded in front of him. His eyes narrowed when he saw me, and he gestured toward an empty chair in front of him. I walked over, scanning the office as I moved. My father’s office was the biggest room in the building. It took up half of the twelfth floor and was lined with bookshelves. He believed having books around would increase his IQ. It was ridiculous, but I never questioned it. There was only one small window in the office, a tiny one right behind his desk. The window only existed for lighting purposes. My father almost never looked out of it. He leaned forward, his eyes beaming like a laser into mine. “We need to talk.” “Yes, I surmised as much.” I tried to keep my sarcasm in check, but it was hard. My father just brought out the smartass in me. I fixed my eyes on him, noticing for the hundredth time how similar we looked and wishing we didn’t. “The investors have called an emergency meeting. They’ll be coming next month,” he continued, acting as if I hadn’t spoken. “All of them.” “All of them?” I was caught off guard. There were at least fifty different investors in Gaston Pharmaceuticals, and they’d never been in the same place at the same time. “Yes, and you will be here to meet with them.” “Of course,” I nodded, still trying to figure out what was going on. “You need to make a few changes first.” Shit. Here we go. “Changes?” My father stood up and walked around the desk. He leaned against it so that he was directly in front of me, nothing between us. He looked good. Strong. It was hard to believe this same man had a heart attack just last month. “I need our investors to see you as a mature, responsible adult, not the idiot party boy you actually are.” His words stung, but I wasn’t surprised. No matter how hard I worked during the week, he only focused on my actions during the weekend. “I work twelve-hour days most days, and I’m training to become a Big Brother,” I reminded him. “It’s not enough. The investors are worried.”
“Why? Our numbers are stable. The patent for the new—” “They’re worried that you can’t keep your dick in your pants. They’re worried that my plans for you to be my successor are, let’s say, ignorant. They worry that my next heart attack will kill me and this entire company will swirl down the drain of your incompetence.” I stared at him, unable to believe the words I was hearing. Words that stabbed me to the bone. “I am not incompetent. Under my direction, the—” “It doesn’t matter!” he roared. “Have I taught you nothing? Appearances mean everything, Talen. The way you dress. Behave. Carry yourself. It all matters. And when your name is tossed around on gossip rags and webloids as a rich playboy, all anyone can see is that label.” My head was pounding, my stomach churning, but not from the hangover any longer. I couldn’t believe this. No, that wasn’t true. I could believe it. Dad had been harping on me since college to settle down and present a “good face” for the company. I blew out a breath. “What do you want me to do?” His eyes narrowed, the lines on his forehead growing deeper, more menacing. “I want you to find a wife. Before the investor meeting.” “A wife?” As hungover as I was, it took more than a few seconds for it to register. “Wait, what? I—” “This isn’t up for discussion, Talen,” he barked, his fist coming down on the desk as he towered over me. I jumped to my feet, hating when he used that line of intimidation. “No.” “Yes. If you don’t find someone before the start of the month, then I’ll do it for you. You will be married before you step foot in front of the investors. We need Gaston Pharmaceuticals to be respectable and upstanding. The last thing we need is for more of your exploits to hit the tabloids.” “Oh, come on,” I groaned. “Those magazines will print anything. No one takes them seriously.” “The investors do.” “Then they’re idiots,” I scoffed. “Who reads that shit? Dad, come on. This is ridiculous.” “Ridiculous or not, it’s not a choice. When our stocks rise and plummet based on who the tabloids say you’re fucking, you lose the ability to choose.” Was that true? I shook my head. “You can’t force me to get married. That’s insane.” “You’re right. Legally, you’re an adult, and I can’t force you to the altar.” He leaned forward and the hair on the back of my neck prickled. “But I refuse to stand by for another moment and let your exploits harm the company I’ve worked my ass off to build.”
“Dad—” “If you aren’t married prior to that meeting, you will be replaced.” I blinked. He couldn’t be serious. My entire life had been about working for the family business. I never had another option. I couldn’t believe my father would just cut me out over something as stupid as an arranged marriage. When I said nothing, he went on. “The penthouse apartment you covet… gone. The cars in the company’s name… gone. The bank accounts. Your eight-figure salary. Access to the jet. Gone and gone.” I was having trouble breathing by the time he made his last strike. “And the inheritance you are supposed to receive.” He snapped his fingers. “Gone.” “Are you serious?” It pissed me off that my voice was so weak, but with so little airflow going in and out, it was the best I could do. “Talen,” he began slowly, “do you really think I married your mother for love? Come on, use your brain. Marriage isn’t some damn fairy tale. Nine times out of ten, it’s a business arrangement.” “Sounds romantic,” I muttered under my breath. He snorted. “So says Prince Charming. With your history, I wasn’t aware you were interested in romance, but go out and fall in love. Give it a try. Just make sure it happens in the next three weeks because if it doesn’t, you will marry the woman of my choosing. And you will act like the happiest, most stable son of a bitch in existence when that meeting comes.” I didn’t speak. There weren’t words to describe how I felt. I was backed into a corner, and my father knew it. I wouldn’t walk away from his money or from his business. Gaston Pharmaceuticals was my legacy as much as his. No matter how much we fought, I could never turn my back on it. Even if I wanted to. I pushed a hand through my hair. “Dad—” “One more thing,” he said, cutting me off. “Brandon Peterson is no longer a suitable companion for you.” “What?” “It was fine when you were a child,” he said, turning to walk back around his desk. He sat down and met my eyes. “Even when you were a teenager, he was fine. He was a great college friend. Now? You need to put that friendship behind you and move on.” “I’ve known Brandon since I was five years old.” “I’m aware,” he said with a nod. “Friendships are important. That’s why you need to surround yourself with the right people. Brandon is not one of them. He’s a terrible influence, and he’s constantly pulling you down. You need to drop him.” “Drop him?” I asked angrily. “Jesus, Dad, what the hell is wrong with you?” “Have I made myself clear?” he asked, already turning away from me. He didn’t need me to answer. He knew I wasn’t in a position to argue. Without a word, I left his office, letting the door slam say fuck you for me.
CHAPTER FOUR Dani
My paintings were positioned perfectly throughout the gallery. Before the doors opened, I walked around and checked every single one. I needed everything to be perfect. There was so much riding on this one show that I couldn’t take any risks. My paintings had to sell, or else I wouldn’t be able to afford anything for the next few months. Once I was sure all the paintings were properly placed, I took a breath and walked toward the front door. “You ready?” the gallery owner asked and gave me an encouraging smile. All I could do was nod and wipe my sweaty palms on my skirt. She opened the door and stood aside to let people in. I smiled widely and greeted everyone as they arrived. It wasn’t a full show. I recognized a few people from around town, but most of the visitors were my friends. They all hugged me tightly when they walked by and gushed about my work. Their pride was evident, and it warmed me. I felt calmer, more self-assured. If they all loved my work so much, then surely my pieces would sell. If they aren’t blowing smoke up your ass, my inner critic snarked. I stood back and watched as everyone circled through the gallery. A few people stopped to get a closer look at my landscape and even more paused at my painting of the Vegas Strip, but no one made an offer yet. I clenched my hands together, hoping someone would buy something. Just as I was about to begin mingling some more, I heard a familiar voice call out to me from the front of the gallery. “Dani!” I whipped around to see Madison hurrying my way. I grinned at the sight of her. She was decked out in her stripper attire. Her short miniskirt rode up dangerously high, and her tank top revealed far too much of her ample cleavage. Her stilettos were higher than any I’d ever seen. I shook my head playfully as she approached me. “You couldn’t have changed?” I asked with a laugh. “You’re lucky I’m even here,” she said with a roll of her heavily made up eyes. “I had to switch shifts with Jessie, and you know that bitch hates me.” “I’m sure she does.” I loved Madison. She was my best friend, but we were so different that it was hilarious. At times, I wondered how we managed to stay friends after all these years. “How’s it going?” Madison asked, glancing around at the paintings. “Any sells?” “Not yet.” I sighed. I was nervous, but I didn’t want to let Madison see that. “Where’s Perry?” Madison frowned. “I figured he’d be here by now. I’m the one who’s late, right?”
The joy died with the sound of his name. “You’re not that late.” Her frown deepened. “Where is he?” “Oh.” I shrugged. “You know, work is crazy for him right now. He’s had to be out of town so much and—” “Bullshit,” Madison spat. Her voice was louder than it should have been. I grabbed her arm and pulled her into a corner. “Hush,” I hissed. “People are trying to enjoy the ambiance.” “I’m sorry.” She raised her hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean to be loud.” I poked her on the arm. “You’re always loud.” She rubbed the poked spot. “It’s who I am, but seriously, everything okay with you two?” I looked at Madison and tried to think of an answer. I’d never lied to her before, and I didn’t want to start now, but I didn’t know if things were okay between Perry and me at all. I didn’t know anything anymore. “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I really don’t know what’s going on between us right now. He said he would be here, but…” I waved my hand around. “The bastard didn’t show.” She stomped her stiletto. “God, has he even called yet?” “No.” I shook my head. “Not yet. I’m sure he will later.” Her upper lip lifted into an Elvis snarl. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.” “Lay off, Maddi,” I said, the warning clear in my voice even though I knew she was right. I just didn’t want to have this conversation right here, right now. “He’s a piece of shit, Dani,” Madison said firmly. “I’m not going to lie to make you feel better. The guy is a royal dickhead, and you deserve better. You always have.” “He’s just busy,” I said, sounding lame. Madison sighed. She didn’t believe me, but she knew better than to keep arguing. My art show wasn’t the time for her to impose her opinions on me. “Thank you for being here,” I said, changing the subject. “I really appreciate it.” She smiled. “Of course. I’m so proud of you. These paintings look amazing! I’d even buy one if I had any money.” I laughed and glanced around. A few more people had arrived, but I couldn’t tell if anyone had made a purchase. My nerves were fried. As much as I’d been looking forward to the show, I was now ready for it to end. I didn’t know how much longer I could handle the stress. “God, I just want someone to buy something,” I said, hearing the desperation in my voice and hating it. Madison put her hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. She stood beside me, watching the guests roam around. We were silent for a few minutes, just taking in the
scene before us. “How’s your mom doing?” Madison asked, probably fishing for anything to take my mind off the sales not happening in front of me. “She’s getting worse,” I said honestly. “She can still take care of herself for the most part, but I’m over there three times a week now.” “Damn,” Madison said, shaking her head sadly. “Is there anything I can do?” “Thank you, but there’s not. I think it might be time to start looking at nursing homes or assisted living places. I need to do more research to see which is best.” Her face fell. “Seriously? Already?” “I don’t know. There are times when she’s so clear and then times when she isn’t. I wish I lived closer, worked closer, but I don’t and I…” I was about to cry. Dammit. I sniffed hard and forced everything back. “I wish I could just move in and take care of her, but I can’t do that either.” “I know. And, honey, you already work two part-time jobs and paint as much as you can. You’re doing so much.” Her face was a mask of sympathy. “God, that sucks.” “It does,” I agreed. “Plus, those places are expensive as hell, especially the really good ones. There’s no way I’ll be able to afford it yet. I need some of these paintings to sell.” “They will,” Madison said with confidence. “I hope so.” After talking with my friend, I made my rounds. More people were arriving by the second, and the gallery was soon packed. I mingled with each guest and directed a few people toward the snack table. I watched as they nibbled on cheeses and sipped wine. Everyone seemed to be in good spirits, and I could only pray this would be my most successful show yet. I grinned and walked over to the owner. The show was about to end, and I wanted to know how many pieces had sold. “Anything?” I asked, standing beside her. She nodded. “One piece sold about an hour ago.” My heart began to thump. “Which one?” “The landscape,” she said, pointing toward the painting. The air left me like a slowly sinking balloon. The landscape was a great painting, but it wasn’t top dollar. I would only make a thousand dollars for it, which wasn’t nearly enough. I mustered a smile. “Let me know if any more sell, okay?” She squeezed my shoulder. “Of course. Just enjoy yourself. It’s a great show.” “Thank you.” I’d expected to make at least a few thousand dollars at the show. To say I was
disappointed would have been the understatement of the year. I felt completely defeated. When everyone began to file out of the gallery, I let my smile slip off my face and fell into a chair. “So,” Madison said, sitting down beside me. “Didn’t go well?” “Thousand bucks,” I said. “Only one painting sold.” She ran a soothing hand up and down my back. “Shit. I’m sorry.” It took everything inside me not to cry. “It’s okay. It’ll go better next time.” “It will,” Madison said firmly. “I’m sure of it.” I leaned my head against her shoulder. “Thanks, Maddi.” She gave me a squeeze. “I’m sorry, but I gotta go. I have to get back to the club before it closes.” “Go, I’ll see you later.” “Hey, why don’t you come stay with me one day next week?” Madison offered. “We’ll go out and have fun.” “Fun in Vegas?” I asked with raised eyebrows. Although I could practically see the glow from the city every night, I hadn’t been to the city for fun in a while. “Yeah.” Madison laughed. “You remember that brightly lit place you used to go to all the time.” “I’ll try,” I said, but I didn’t mean it. Vegas was only twenty minutes away from my little apartment. It wasn’t far. Still, we both knew I didn’t have the time. “Love you,” Madison said as she headed toward the door. “Love you too,” I mumbled. “Be safe.” I watched as Madison disappeared outside. The gallery was now empty. Only the owner and her employees remained. “Should we ship your pieces?” the owner asked. I shook my head. “No, if you’ll just pack them up, I’ll take them with me tonight.” “Will do.” I sat still while they packed up my paintings and loaded them in my car. The only one missing was the landscape. The owner handed me the check, and I stared at it blankly. There was a time when one thousand dollars would have felt like a fortune to me, but now, I needed more. My mother needed more. As the last of my paintings was loaded up, I thanked the owner and walked to my car. I climbed inside and pulled out my cell phone. My night had already been so terrible that I didn’t think it could get any worse. I dialed Perry’s number and waited. “Hello.” I just went for it. “Where were you tonight?”
“What?” “My show.” The words left me in one long breath. “You missed it.” “Mm… well, I’m still out of town.” No sorry. No nothing. “This is getting ridiculous,” I said under my breath. “What?” Perry asked. I raised my voice. “This was really important to me.” My show had gone so terribly that my mood was awful. I normally didn’t like to fight with him, but that night, I was almost itching for it. “I know, but—” “Why didn’t you care enough to be here?” I asked. “Why don’t you ever care anymore? You don’t come to my shows. You don’t call me when you’re out of town. When you are here, you’re always working. You never put any effort into our relationship anymore.” “Dani.” He said my name as if he was talking to a child. “That’s not fair.” “You’re right,” I agreed. “It’s not fair. It’s not fair to me. I want to know what’s going on.” “I met someone.” Perry’s words hit me like a punch to the throat. I opened my mouth to speak, but my tongue was dry, and my throat felt constricted. I blinked and swallowed hard, trying to process what I just heard. “You what?” I finally asked. “I met someone,” he said again, the words coming out quicker now. “Dani, I know we’ve been together a long time now, but I just don’t think our relationship is going anywhere. We’re stagnant, and when I met this new woman, I felt such a connection with her. I didn’t realize how much was missing in our relationship until I met her.” Perry kept talking, but I didn’t hear anything else. I held the phone to my ear while my vision slowly became blurry. I blinked, but it didn’t help. It wasn’t until a few panting breaths later that I realized I was crying. Hot tears slid down my cheeks, and I couldn’t breathe. When I’d called him, I was ready for an argument. I thought we would fight it out, but I never imagined we would break up. His words were like daggers piercing my ears, and I couldn’t listen to them anymore. While he was still talking, I pulled the phone away from my ear and powered it off. The car was suddenly too silent, and I didn’t know what to do. I put the key in the ignition and turned it. The engine started up, but I stayed still. I sat in the parking lot, letting the tears flow freely for what felt like hours. It was close to midnight before I put the car in drive and drove home.
CHAPTER FIVE Talen
I spent my entire week stressing over my father’s demands. Preoccupied with thoughts of him and his orders. I could barely focus on anything else. My mind constantly raced while I switched between anger and disgust. My life was my own, and yet he insisted that I live it by his rules. At twenty-eight years old, I was tired of having to answer to him. He was my father, but he was also my boss, and that prohibited me from arguing as much as I wanted. Still, the idea that I had to marry within a few weeks was sickening. I couldn’t believe that my father would go so far as to threaten my standing in the company or my financial security. I spent most of my life doing everything he said. I went to the college he chose, and I allowed him to pick my major. He laid down orders, and I, like a good son and protégé, followed them without complaint, but he’d gone too far this time. There was no way I could find a wife and get married in less than a month. I had never been one for romance, but the idea of an arranged marriage made my skin crawl. When I remembered our conversation, I felt like throwing up. Not only did he insult me with his demands, but he actually admitted to marrying my mother for business. He all but said he never loved her. At first, I was livid. How dare he do something like that to her? Who did he think he was? But then again, I was certain my mother knew his reasons. She was an intelligent woman who wasn’t easily manipulated. If my father married her for the company, I had to believe she knew it. Somehow. Still, as the week progressed, I thought about her more and more. I hadn’t seen my mother in months. Gaston Pharmaceuticals was located in Henderson, Nevada, and my mother hated it. She often spent her time in other cities, living in the many houses my parents had acquired over the years. An undeniable privilege of wealth was the ability to distance herself from her spouse whenever she chose. Looking back, I realized that my parents had never been affectionate toward each other. I knew their marriage wasn’t the happiest, but it never occurred to me that it was all just a sham. On Friday evening, I paced around my apartment, trying to clear my head. It had been five days since my conversation with my father, and still, I felt angry. Every time I remembered his words, my heart pounded furiously, and my forehead began to sweat. Not for the first time, I wanted to know what it would feel like to hit him. I imagined punching his jaw and feeling it break beneath my knuckles. My father was a tyrant, and he always had been, but that didn’t make it any easier to take. As I tried to calm myself down, I decided to call my mom. I couldn’t remember the last time I talked to her. “Hi, Mom,” I said brightly when she picked up the phone. “Oh, my goodness, Talen!” she exclaimed. “Honey, we haven’t spoken in so long. How are you?”
“I’m good,” I said, smiling. It was nice to hear her voice. I immediately felt calmer and more at ease. “Everything’s fine here. I just miss you.” “I miss you too,” she said warmly. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You don’t sound well.” My mom could always pick up on my moods without much effort. She, unlike my dad, took the time to know me. Despite being absent a lot during my childhood, she made sure to spend time with me while she could. If she was at home, then she was with me. I loved her for it. “Things at work aren’t great,” I admitted. “Dad has all this stuff he wants me to do and I just, I don’t feel like I can.” “What stuff?” I opened my mouth to speak but quickly closed it again. Part of me wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to unload my problems onto her and let her deal with my dad, but I couldn’t. On the off chance that she didn’t know the real reason for her marriage, I didn’t want to be the one to tell her. I loved her too much to cause her that kind of pain. “The investors are coming next month,” I said simply. “He expects me to shape up my image before they arrive. He doesn’t want me spending time with Brandon anymore.” It was the truth, just not all of it. I felt guilty for hiding things from my mother, but I knew it wasn’t the right time to tell her everything. My week had already been bad enough. “Honey, I’m sorry,” she said softly. “Your father just wants what’s best for you. I know it doesn’t often seem that way, but it’s the truth. He loves you very much, and he only wants you to succeed.” “Mom, you don’t really believe that, do you?” “Of course, I do,” she said firmly. “Jacob can be difficult. I know that better than anyone, but he’s a good man. Deep down, he just wants to make sure you’re well taken care of.” “He threatened to cut me off,” I said bluntly. “If I don’t do what he says, he’ll cut me off completely. From the business and everything else.” There was a pause. I could hear my mom breathing on the other end of the phone, but she didn’t speak. I knew her well enough to know that she was thinking. She didn’t know what to say to make me feel better and still remain supportive of my father. For years, she’d been put in the middle of us, and it wasn’t fair. She didn’t deserve the stress we caused her. “It’s nothing,” I said before she could speak. “I’m just complaining. I’m sorry.” “You can always complain to me,” she promised. “That’s what I’m here for.” “I’ll be okay. Change is just hard sometimes, but I can handle it.” “I know you can.” I could hear the smile in her voice. I was glad to make her happy, even if it was through lies.
“How are you?” I asked her. “How’s everything going?” “I’m just fine. Spending time with the girls. I just organized an event for the children’s hospital, and it went perfectly, so that was good.” “Sounds great.” It wasn’t hard to sound happy for her. “That’s awesome, Mom.” “Thank you. I’m very proud of our success. We raised twice as much money this year.” That was impressive. “Wow.” “Oh, it was wonderful,” she gushed. “Talen, you would have loved it. It was magnificent.” She delved into the details of the event. I tried to listen, but I found it all deathly dull. My mother, Victoria Gaston, had been the head social chair among her friends for decades. Every event and fundraiser went through her, and she loved it. She loved being queen bee. It made her feel special, which she so deserved. “Then, Constance got drunk off brandy, and we all had to help get her home,” she continued. “It was humiliating and almost cost us quite a few donations, but I was able to smooth things over fairly well. Needless to say, Constance will not be invited next year.” “Wow,” I said again. “Drama among the socialites.” “Always,” she said seriously. “But what about you? Are you still doing that Big Brother program?” “I am,” I said, happy that she remembered. “I haven’t been assigned a little brother yet, but I’ve been training and getting to know everyone.” “When will you get your assignment?” “Soon, I hope.” “I’m so proud of you,” she cooed. “This is a step in the right direction for you, honey. It’s so wonderful that you want to give back.” I lifted a shoulder she couldn’t see. “I just thought it was time.” “Whoever your little brother is will be lucky to have you,” she promised. “Thanks, Mom.” “I have to go now, darling,” she said. “But we’ll talk soon, okay? Maybe you can come see me sometime.” “Of course.” I wished I could visit her now. “I’ll come visit really soon, Mom.” “Okay, honey. Talk to you later.” “Bye. I love you.” Her voice warmed even more. “I love you too.” When we hung up, I set my phone down on the coffee table and fell back on the couch. Talking to my mom made me feel better, but my good mood didn’t last. It wasn’t long before I felt miserable and defeated all over again.
I couldn’t believe that my father would say something so horrible about my mother. Even if he did marry her for her social standing, how dare he admit that? Victoria Gaston was the only woman I knew who truly deserved happiness. After putting up with my father for so many years, she deserved better. I hated him for what he said. As I sat on the couch fuming over my father, my front door opened. I glanced over to see Brandon letting himself inside. I gave him a key to my place years ago, so he almost never knocked. “Hey,” he said, plopping down beside me. “What are we doing tonight?” “I don’t know.” I didn’t even have the energy to shrug. “Hadn’t planned on doing anything.” He gave me a concerned look. “What’s up?” I looked over at him. He was frowning. He could tell something was bothering me. “My fucking father. He’s sunk to new levels of douchebaggery.” Brandon propped his feet up on the coffee table. “What did he do this time?” “He ordered me to get married.” The words sounded like glass coming from between my teeth. Brandon blinked then stared at me with wide eyes. His mouth hung slightly open, and I grinned at his dumbfounded expression. I knew this would be his reaction. “M-married?” he stammered. “Like, death-do-us-part married?!” I nodded. “Yup. The investors are coming next month, and apparently, I need to be married before they arrive. I have a few weeks to find myself a wife. If I don’t, he’ll find one for me. So basically, I either have to find some desperate broad and convince her to marry me, or let my father arrange everything.” “This is some medieval shit,” Brandon said, shaking his head like he was trying to clear it. “Arranged marriage? What the actual fuck?” “I know. It’s bullshit. Oh, and I’m not supposed to hang out with you anymore.” “Me?” Brandon asked with raised eyebrows. “You’re a bad influence.” Brandon threw his head back and laughed. He couldn’t care less about my father or his opinions. My dad was right. Brandon was a bad influence, but it didn’t matter. Brandon was only amused by my dad’s insults. “So,” he said. “You have to get married and drop me? Is that it?” “Yup.” I nodded. “Otherwise, he’ll cut me off completely.” “Man, fuck him,” Brandon said. He bounded to his feet and paced around the living room. “What you need is a weekend away. You gotta get out of here. You need to get out of your head and relax. Your dad has you all tense, and it’s not good. Let’s just go.” “Where?” I asked blankly.
“Anywhere!” Brandon said, throwing his hands in the air. “Who cares where? Let’s just get in the car and go. Unwind for a little while.” I stared at Brandon, thinking about my options. After a week of stressing over my father’s orders, I was ready to put everything behind me. I hated him for what he’d done, and I wanted nothing more than to piss him off. As I stared at my best friend, a smile began to form on my face. I grinned at him and nodded slowly. “Okay. You’re right. My dad doesn’t own me, and when I’m not working, I can do anything I want.” “That’s right!” Brandon yelled. “Let’s go.”
CHAPTER SIX Dani
It was late when I returned home from my mother’s house on Friday night. After working the breakfast shift at the diner, I spent most of the day with her. We watched movies together, and I helped her clean the house. After dinner, I prepared a few meals for her and said good night. I knew she would be okay for the night, but I still felt nervous as I backed out of her driveway. I hated the constant fear that lived inside of me now. No matter how much time I spent with my mom, I never felt like it was enough. She needed me, and I could only devote so much time to her. When I made it to my apartment, I immediately moved to my easel and placed a blank canvas on it. I stared at the canvas for a few seconds, just thinking. Ever since Tuesday night, I’d been on edge. My show was a bust and Perry dumped me. I was still in shock over our breakup, and I hadn’t yet wrapped my mind around it. After that night, I devoted most of my time to my part-time jobs and to my mother. Now that I had a free moment to myself, I was ready to let myself feel everything. I replayed Perry’s words over and over again in my mind. When I hung up on him, I thought he might try to call back. After five years together, I thought he would at least want to make sure I was okay, but he didn’t. I hadn’t heard from him since, and I didn’t think I would. He admitted to being with someone else, and now, I didn’t mean anything. As I poured black, blue, and green paint onto my board, I wondered if I’d ever truly mattered to him. With my thickest paintbrush, I swirled the three colors together. I quickly lost myself in the blending process. When my brush hit the canvas, I felt my shoulders relax. I breathed out slowly and let myself fall completely into my painting. I moved the brush automatically, not thinking about technique or style. I didn’t think at all. For the first time in years, I just painted. I didn’t try to create a scene or invoke any emotions, I just let myself be free. When I was finished, the canvas was covered in different colors of paint. There wasn’t a clear picture. I took a step back, scrutinizing my work, but I didn’t see any clear shapes or images. Instead, I saw a mess of colors and lines. My brushstrokes were messy and harsh. I hadn’t painted like this since college. It was raw. As I looked at it, tears formed in my eyes. I analyzed the blues and greens I’d created. I looked over the specks of bright yellows and oranges that were scattered over the canvas. My heart ached as I took in the hues of purple and pink. Every color was represented on the canvas. In that moment, I realized I’d been painting my own emotions. By not thinking, I was able to set myself free. I didn’t know if anyone else would like this painting, but I did. I stared at it for a long time, reveling in my creation. I felt good. I felt strong. Then, all of a sudden, a fresh wave of sadness hit me. I slumped over and laid my paintbrush down. Tears fell while I continued to stare at my
latest creation. I was so immersed in my own head that I didn’t hear the soft knock on my door. It wasn’t until the door creaked open that I spun around, terrified. “It’s just me,” Madison said as she stepped inside. My eyes must have been wide with fear because she raised her hands defensively and hurried over to me. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” “It’s okay,” I said, placing my hand over my heart. It was pounding so hard I thought it might burst from my chest. “I knocked, but you didn’t answer.” I pressed my fingers to my temples. “I’m sorry. I was just in the zone.” “Painting?” Madison glanced at my easel and took a step forward. I shrugged. “Yeah. It’s nothing. I just had the urge to paint when I got home.” “This is beautiful,” Madison said softly. She was close to the painting now, staring at it with interest. “Really, Dani, this is amazing. It reminds me of your old stuff. It’s so—” “Messy?” I finished for her with a laugh. “Real,” she said, spinning around to face me. “I’m serious. This is amazing.” “Thank you.” I suddenly felt shy. It was always like this when someone praised my work. Back in college, I won different awards, and everyone seemed to enjoy my work, but lately, compliments had become increasingly rare. I didn’t realize how much I missed the confidence boost until Madison gushed over it now. “Were you crying?” Madison narrowed her eyes and took in my face. I knew my green eyes were probably bright red, and my cheeks were most likely flushed. Embarrassment quickly overwhelmed me, and I turned away from her. “No,” I said, wiping my face. “The paint just irritates my eyes sometimes. That’s all.” “Since when?” Madison asked. “It’s a new kind of paint,” I lied. “Just got it last week.” “Dani…” I was still facing away from her, but I could hear the understanding in her voice. I’d never been very good at lying. I slowly turned around to face her with an apologetic grimace. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lied.” Madison shrugged. “It’s okay. You’re terrible at it, so it doesn’t really count.” I laughed. “Thanks.” “What’s going on?” Madison took a step toward me. “A lot.” I was finding it hard to breathe again and turned to sit on the couch. Dropping my head in my hands, I rubbed my face roughly before I looked back up. Madison had moved to sit beside me. She was watching me closely, waiting for me to explain. “Just talk to me,” she said. “What is it?”
I sighed. “Perry. He dumped me.” Madison’s face immediately shifted from concern to rage. She looked ready to kill. “He what?” “He said he met someone else.” Her nostrils flared. “Holy shit. Who?” “He didn’t say.” I shrugged. “And I didn’t ask. Honestly, I don’t think I really want to know. It doesn’t matter anyway.” “It doesn’t?” Madison asked with a frown. I lifted a shoulder. “Why would it? He met someone. He broke up with me. That’s all I need to know.” “But…” Madison began, but I shook my head, and she immediately fell silent. I fell back upon the soft cushions and curled my feet up under me. “The worst part is that I knew something was going on. I could feel it, but I never said anything. I just kept waiting like a freaking puppy dog for him to show up. I let him walk all over me and use me for years, Maddi. I wasted years on him. I really thought we would…” I trailed off, not wanting to finish my sentence. Even though Perry and I never discussed marriage, I always thought we were heading in that direction. Once his business slowed down, I imagined he would propose, and we would start our safe little life together. There were days when Perry was the last thing I wanted, but I stood right in the middle of my comfort zone. I never let my curiosity get the better of me. I never cheated or betrayed him. I was loyal. Always. “He’s such a shit,” Madison said. “God, I always hated him.” I nodded. “I know you did.” “Well, I knew he would do something like this!” “I didn’t,” I admitted. “God, I knew our relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was five years. Five years! How could he just up and find someone new after five years?! Who does that?” “Assholes,” Madison said simply. “Exactly,” I sighed. “I’m such an idiot.” I put my head back in my hands and left it there. Madison rubbed my back gently, silently comforting me. It felt nice to have her there with me, but I still felt pathetic. “Is it that big of a loss?” Madison asked softly. I lifted my head and looked at her, trying to fully comprehend the question. “What?” She licked her lips. “I just mean, were you even happy? Did you really love him?” I frowned and looked away. I didn’t even need to think about it. I wasn’t happy. I hadn’t been happy with Perry in a long time. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time we
even did something so simple as laugh together, if he happened to be in town. “You know, he never asked about my art.” She frowned at my change in subject. “What?” “My art,” I said. “My paintings. When we first met, he was so interested in it, you know? Back in college, he loved everything I did. He was at all my shows. He was always there to cheer me on when I won my awards, but after we graduated, he just stopped. I guess I thought it was because I got worse. I just blamed myself, thinking that I was at fault.” “It wasn’t your fault,” Madison said softly. “It was his.” “Still,” I said, shaking my head. “I really believed that if I got better, he would come around. I tried so hard to paint something he would like, but I just never could.” “You shouldn’t have to try that hard for someone’s approval,” Madison said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “Especially not someone who claims to love you.” I nodded. “I know. I do. I know that, but it’s hard. My mother wants me to get married so badly. Every time I see her, she asks me about Perry, and I lie. I lied again today. I just couldn’t tell her that we broke up, you know? It would break her heart.” “I know,” Madison sighed. “I don’t know what to do.” I felt so defeated. “I don’t want to disappoint her. I think I stayed with Perry for so long because I just wanted to make her wish come true. I wanted her to see me get married and have children, but I don’t think she ever will.” “Don’t say that,” Madison said firmly. “She will, Dani. She’s not dying.” “But she’s sick. She remembers things less and less. Her mind is already drifting so far away. By the time I find someone new and settle down, she won’t even be her anymore.” “Dani…” She leaned her head against mine. We sat silently together for a few minutes. I knew Madison wanted to help me, but she didn’t know how. I wasn’t upset about Perry, not really. I was just upset about what it meant for my future. The one thing I never wanted to do was let my mom down. “Let’s get out of here,” Madison said softly. She pulled away from me. “Why? Where?” “I think you need a break. You’ve been sacrificing so much of yourself lately. For Perry. For your mom. You need to take a break and heal.” I didn’t even know how to start. “And how do I do that?” “Come with me to Vegas for the weekend.” “Madison, I—” She held up a hand. “I’m serious. You need this. It’s not far. If something happens with your mom, you can be at her house in a little over an hour.” I frowned. She wasn’t wrong. Plus, my mother’s neighbor would look in on her if I
asked. “Okay.” I said it before it could turn into a no. A huge grin split Madison’s face. “Okay?” The smile was contagious. “Yeah.” I nodded once to emphasize the word. “Yeah, let’s go.” “Yes!” Madison exclaimed. I hurried into my bedroom and packed a bag. While I did so, I called my mom’s neighbor and told her I’d be out of town. She promised to look in on Mom each day. I thanked her and ran back out to the living room. Madison was waiting for me with the door wide open. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively as we headed out into the night.
CHAPTER SEVEN Talen
Brandon’s grand plan for the weekend was yet another adventure into Vegas. At first, I was skeptical. It was the same thing we’d done countless nights before, and I wanted something new, something different. I wanted to get in the car and drive miles away. I wanted to forget about my father and his mandates. I wanted to push my negative emotions aside and focus on making myself happy. I didn’t think another weekend in Vegas was the answer, but I was wrong. After a few hours inside the Palazzo, Brandon and I stumbled onto the Vegas Strip. We walked together, laughing and running into people randomly. Neither of us was blackout drunk yet, but we felt great. Nothing could tear us down. All thoughts of my father and his company had flown from my mind completely. The only thing I wanted to do was drink and party with my best friend. As we walked, Brandon yelled random things at strangers just to make me laugh. I laughed so hard that tears formed in my eyes. The alcohol worked through my system. My body was flushed, and my instincts were dulled. Everything around me was clear, and I knew exactly where I was, but my thoughts were hazy and confused. One second, I laughed with Brandon, and the next, I was hitting on an attractive woman walking by, and after that, I dwelled on thoughts about my father’s ridiculous ultimatums. Despite my determination to forget him, he kept creeping back into my psyche. “I’ve been thinking!” Brandon yelled while we continued down the strip. “What?” “About your dad,” he said, looking serious. He got close to my face so that I would hear him clearly over the noise of the crowd. “I think the reason he’s so hell-bent on controlling your life is because he can’t control his own.” “What are you talking about?” I asked, laughing. “My father controls the fucking world.” “No,” Brandon said, shaking his head. “That’s the thing, he doesn’t. He just wants you to think he does so that he can control you.” Brandon was drunk, but he made perfect sense. Maybe it was my own intoxication that fogged my senses, but I understood every word he said. He was totally right. My father was determined to wield his power over me because he actually felt powerless. It was a classic sign of insecurity, and I finally saw right through his façade. That night, on the strip with Brandon, I felt larger than life. Larger even than my father. “I’m not going to play his game,” I said firmly. “What?” Brandon yelled over the crowd surrounding us.
“I’m not going to play his game!” I yelled back. “I’m done! I’m done with him and his fucked up rules!” “That’s right!” Brandon high-fived me. “You’re not getting married!” “Hell, no, I’m not getting married,” I said with a laugh. “Of course, I’m not getting married. That’s insane.” “Beyond insane!” Brandon agreed. “It’s my life,” I said with a newfound confidence. “I don’t have to sit back and let him control me. I’m a grown man. He’s nothing more than a power-hungry psycho!” “Yeah, screw him!” Brandon yelled. “Exactly,” I said with a nod. “He wants me to get married? Fuck. That.” Brandon laughed and pumped his fist in the air. I knew this had been his goal all along. When he suggested going out for the weekend, he just wanted me to find my own confidence again. He wanted me to shove my father’s orders back in his face. He wanted to remind me of the person I really was. I grinned and slapped him on the back. Right then, I’d never been more grateful for him. He wasn’t just my best friend, he was my brother, and I loved him. Without Brandon, I never would have stopped wallowing in my own misery. I would have stayed in my apartment all weekend, whining to myself about how unfair it all was. Just the thought made my stomach churn. My father had that effect on me. He made me feel weak, even though I was strong and confident in every other aspect of my life. I was Talen Fucking Gaston, and I knew exactly who I wanted to be. No one, not even my father, was going to take that away from me. I wouldn’t let him beat me down into submission. He could lay down whatever laws he wanted, but I wouldn’t listen. He would never be able to control me. No matter what he said or did, I would not cave. He could cut me off. He could ban me from the company. I didn’t care anymore. I was ready to strike out on my own for good. “You don’t need him,” Brandon said, shaking his head firmly. “Damn right. I don’t need him or his damn rules.” “Let’s go.” He grabbed my arm, pulling me to the side. I looked around. “Where?” “Here!” Brandon pulled me down a side street. I didn’t know where we were going, but I let Brandon take the lead. I was just drunk enough to trust him completely. He led me a bit farther before he stopped in front of a strip club. He turned to stare at it head-on with a mischievous grin on his face. When he looked at me, he raised his eyebrows and laughed. I rolled my eyes but let him pull me inside anyway. Brandon loved strip clubs. He always had. I never saw the point in them. Watching women dance naked was only a turn on if I got to touch them while they did it. Strip clubs were just one giant exploration into the land of blue balls, and I hated it. Still, I was up for anything tonight. I let Brandon pull me inside, and I even broke a
twenty at the bar. Brandon and I got a few drinks before we found a table right up front. Three women were dancing on the main stage, wrapping themselves seductively around poles. I watched the one closest to me while she moved. Her black hair looked like a wig, but I didn’t care. It was short and sexy. She was already topless, and I watched her breasts bounce to the beat of a trashy rock song. I licked my lips and stood up slowly. Walking over to her, I slid a one-dollar bill in her G-string. She winked at me and shook her tits in my face. When she retreated, I went to sit back down. “God.” I adjusted my pants. “Strip clubs still suck.” Brandon looked at me like I was crazy. “What? This is amazing, man.” I lifted my empty hands. “We can’t touch them. What’s the point?” He winked. “You can touch them if you pay enough.” I rolled my eyes. Even half lit, I wasn’t into that. It was basically prostitution and not my thing. Brandon would take anything he could get, even if he had to pay for it, but not me. My standards weren’t always that high, but they were always too high to indulge in hookers. It just wasn’t me. Still, I sat back and enjoyed the show. Brandon and I threw money at the women while they entertained us. We watched while each woman made the rounds to the main stage. The music was lively and upbeat. In my drunken haze, I felt it in every single bone. My entire body vibrated with energy and excitement. Brandon had been right; this kind of night was exactly what I needed. After just a few hours away from my apartment, I already felt better about everything. I knew I could handle anything my father threw my way. “You were right,” I said to Brandon. “This is exactly what I needed, man. Thanks for bringing me out.” “It’s my job.” Brandon shrugged. “Besides, there is no problem that can’t be solved by a few drinks and hot women.” “I’ll drink to that,” I said, holding up my glass. Brandon clinked his own against it, and I took a long sip. I finished the glass and tapped it on the table. Brandon patted my back and pointed to a new stripper on the main stage. My gaze traveled over her body in appreciation. For the first time that night, I wondered if it ever bothered these women to be stared at. Horny men traipsed in and out of the club nonstop and spent entire nights just watching them. Lusting. Jacking off later to their memory. I couldn’t imagine stripping would be an enjoyable profession. I wondered if any of the strippers I watched on the stage wished I wouldn’t. If they looked at me while I gaped at their bare breasts and silently hated me for it. Just thinking about the possibility made me turn my head away. I looked at Brandon and then at the other patrons, my eyes traveling over each person in the club, never landing on one person for too long. Until her. Sitting alone on a barstool, I could barely see her face from my seat, but I could make
out most of her profile. Her long auburn hair hung loosely over her shoulders in soft, natural waves. I was instantly captivated by the sight of her. From what I could see, her face was delicate. She looked young, but not naïve. There was something about the set of her shoulders that told me she’d been through a lot. She looked hardened but also exceedingly kind. I watched her for a few minutes, careful to look away when she glanced in my direction. I was certain she hadn’t seen me yet, but I wanted her to. As I watched, I became more intrigued by her. When she tucked her long hair behind her ears, I found myself wanting to do it for her. She leaned forward, smiling at the bartender, and my stomach did a flip. I could only see half of her face, but her smile was gorgeous. In that moment, I knew I had to talk to her. Whatever else happened that night, I couldn’t leave the club without discovering her name. “Hey,” I said to Brandon. “I’ll be right back.” Brandon waved me away without a word. He was too busy ogling the strippers to care about my whereabouts. I chuckled to myself and stood up slowly. I was drunk, too drunk, but I could still walk and think straight. I’d successfully picked up women when I was drunker than this, so I felt immensely confident as I walked her way. I stuffed my hands in my pockets as I approached. This was something I always did. It made me seem nonthreatening. I walked up behind her and thought about lightly touching her shoulder, but as I reached out my hand, someone shoved between us. My arm was knocked away, and I stumbled slightly. I cursed under my breath, but when I looked back at my prize, her back was still to me. She didn’t seem to have noticed anything going on behind her. I took a deep breath and decided it would be better to sit down beside her. Silently, I slid onto the barstool to her left and put my arms on the bar. She glanced in my direction but didn’t speak. I let the silence linger in the air between us for a few minutes. I ordered a drink and sipped on it slowly, not even looking in her direction. Her eyes were on me, though. I could feel them. I wanted her to become curious about me before I spoke. She was my goal for the evening, and I knew exactly how to succeed. Finally, I turned to face her. My eyes locked on hers, and I was taken aback by how green they were. I blinked and smiled, genuinely pleased. “Hi. I’m Talen.”
CHAPTER EIGHT Dani
Madison took me to the strip club where she worked. She often bounced between clubs, but this was her main place of employment. I didn’t approve of her job, but I knew better than to pass judgment. Madison’s life hadn’t been easy, and she did what she had to do to make ends meet. I admired her more than most people, and I knew she wouldn’t work as a stripper forever. As soon as she finished her degree, she would find a new job doing something more respectable. That night, I sat at the bar while she worked and avoided talking to anyone. The bartender kept my glass full, and I pounded back drinks faster than I had in years. I ordered round after round, letting the alcohol drown my emotions. I still felt angry over my breakup with Perry and heartbroken about my mother, but I refused to let myself think about those things. Instead, I made casual conversation with the bartender and spent the evening getting drunk. Every so often, I glanced around the club, taking in the scene. Men were littered around the stage, all staring wide-eyed at the strippers. My eyes fell on Madison, and I waved at her. She blew me a kiss and continued dancing around the pole. I smiled and turned back to the bartender. He handed me another drink, and I nodded my thanks. As I sipped, I tried not to think about how crazy my weekend had become. For years, I avoided going out. I hadn’t spent a night in the city in almost three years. Now, I was getting plastered in the middle of a strip club. I laughed at myself and downed yet another drink. My head got fuzzier by the second. I still couldn’t believe Perry. Part of me wondered about the other woman. Who was she? Where was she from? Was there ever really a business meeting out of town? Or was he just sneaking away to see her? How long had they been seeing each other? Why didn’t he just end things with me right after he met her? What made him stick around when he knew he didn’t want me anymore? These questions and more swirled around my already hazy mind. I shook my head and tried to force them away, but they kept coming at me with a vengeance. As the night progressed, I knew I would be sick the following morning. I thought about slowing down, but I was having fun. Just sitting alone at a bar made me feel happy again. I felt independent and strong, like I didn’t need Perry or anyone else. For the first time in a while, I began to feel good about myself. I remembered Madison’s praise over my latest painting, and I smiled into my glass. She really loved that painting, and I thought I knew why. I hadn’t let any preconceived notions interfere with my art. I just painted. And it worked. I was busy marveling over the memory of that painting when someone slid onto the barstool beside me. I glanced over to see a man about my age with thick black hair and the
lightest blue eyes I’d ever seen. Frowning, I turned away from him. The bar was mostly empty. There were a ton of empty seats. Why did he have to sit down right beside me? I knew I should feel uncomfortable, but I didn’t. He was attractive, incredibly attractive. Still, tonight wasn’t about meeting guys. It was about me. When I looked at him again, he turned to face me. His eyes locked on mine, and I blinked. They were so blue that I immediately lost my train of thought. Moments before, I was ready to tell him to buzz off, but I suddenly forgot my plan. “Hi. I’m Talen.” I pulled myself back to reality. I shook my head slowly, laughing softly. Looking away from him, I took a long sip of my drink. When I set it down, I turned back to face him. “I’m not interested,” I said firmly. He lifted a brow. “In what?” “You.” I waved a hand between us. “This. Whatever this is.” “This is a conversation,” he said, totally unfazed. “At least, I hoped it would be.” “Why?” I spun around so that my body faced him directly. We were sitting close, far too close for two strangers. “What’s your goal?” He laughed. “My goal? What do you mean?” “I’m a girl sitting alone at a bar,” I said slowly. “You’re a guy who just happened to come sit down beside me. I’m not an idiot.” He smiled, revealing a dimple that seemed to wink at my clit. “No. You certainly aren’t.” I opened my mouth, ready to argue when I realized what he just said. Quickly, my lips fell back together, and I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t know what to say. I was ready to challenge him until he left me alone, but his words took me by surprise. “I’m impressed,” he said, surprising me again. “By what?” I asked with a frown. “You.” In spite of myself, I was curious. “What do you mean?” He lifted a shoulder. “You challenged me. Most women don’t.” I picked up my drink and took a sip. “It’s not that hard.” I tried hard not to smile, but there it was, spreading across my stupid face. He laughed, and it was a deep, sexy sound. “No. It’s not, but so few actually try. Most women are just pleased that someone is talking to them.” “Not me,” I said under my breath. “Not tonight.” “Guy trouble?” I looked at him sharply, and he lifted his hands, palms out. “Hey, we don’t have to talk about it. I was just asking.” I took a longer drink this time and signaled the bartender for another. “Yeah. Guy
trouble. Life trouble. Whatever.” “What happened?” I looked at him, trying to figure out his motives. If he was trying to sleep with me, he wasn’t going about it the right way. Asking me to talk about my relationship troubles wasn’t exactly the best way to get into my pants. I wondered if I should excuse myself, but something kept me cemented to my barstool. “Just got dumped,” I said simply. “After five years together, he told me he met someone else.” Talen winced. “Ouch. That’s rough.” “Yeah.” I nodded. “It is.” “What’s your name?” I considered lying, but those blue eyes seemed to beg for the truth. “Dani.” “Well, Dani,” Talen said. “I’m sorry about your boyfriend.” “Shit happens, right? That’s why they invented alcohol.” Talen laughed and raised his glass. He finished it in one gulp, and an idea occurred to me. If he liked to be challenged, then he would love what I had in store for him. “Two shots of tequila,” I called out to the bartender. “What?” Talen asked with wide eyes. I shrugged. “Shots. What? Something wrong?” “I don’t do tequila.” He shook his head firmly. “Anything else, but not tequila. Not anymore.” The word did make him appear a little green. “Have a bad experience?” “You could say that.” The bartender set our shots down in front of me, and I slid one over to Talen. I picked up mine and held it close to my lips. I grinned at him flirtatiously and waited to see if he would join me. When he didn’t, I leaned closer to him. “Don’t be a pussy, Talen,” I said with a laugh. “It’s just tequila.” I didn’t know what had gotten into me. The way I was acting was so unlike me, but I loved the confidence coursing through my veins. I loved the way it felt to flirt and challenge a new man. Talen’s blue eyes were enough to keep me interested, and the tattoos peeking out from beneath his shirt didn’t hurt either. I’d been annoyed with him at first, but now, I wanted to keep him around for a little while. “Okay.” Talen’s eyes fell to my lips. “If you insist.” He picked up the other shot glass and raised it. I followed suit, and we both took down our shots smoothly. I slammed my shot glass down on the bar and gestured for another. Talen laughed and shook his head. “You’re insane.” “I can be.” I grinned, and for the first time, I thought maybe I could. At least for one
night. What would it hurt? “Whoever that boyfriend is… he’s an idiot.” “Why are you here?” I asked. I absolutely didn’t want to talk about Perry. “Drowning your sorrows too, or just enjoying the many pairs of breasts?” “Both,” Talen admitted. “My buddy dragged me out tonight. It was his idea to come here.” “Where is he?” I asked, glancing around. Talen pointed to a drunk guy hanging off the main stage. He was whooping and hollering at the strippers and throwing money in the air every few seconds. I laughed and shook my head. “He seems to be having fun.” Talen laughed. “Brandon always has fun.” “Sounds like my friend Madison. She works here.” I pointed to the stage where Madison was spinning around the pole. Talen glanced at her but didn’t stare. Madison was gorgeous and currently topless, so I wouldn’t have blamed him if he lingered, but he didn’t. When he immediately turned his attention back to me, I moved closer to him. “What are your sorrows, Talen?” I asked softly. His eyes flickered to my lips for a fraction of a second before he answered, causing my stomach to do a crazy little dance. “Daddy issues,” he said. “My father is a royal jackass, and I needed to get away from him for a while.” He looked so sad and angry, I reached out and touched his hand. “What did he do?” “Nothing worth discussing,” Talen said, his eyes sliding away from mine. “Let’s just say, he sank to a new low.” “I’m sorry to hear that.” I leaned even closer to him. It was like a hand was on my back, pushing me toward him. I didn’t know what I was doing, and all the alcohol in my system was making my judgment hazier than ever. Talen looked sexy. While he spoke, that was all I could think about. His eyes were so intense, and his lips looked delicious. I thought about leaning over and kissing him, but I forced myself to relax. I was just drunk. It was the alcohol giving me these wild impulses, not my true desires. If I had been sober, I never would have considered kissing him. Still, as morning came closer, Talen and I stayed at the bar talking. We each downed a few more shots of tequila before everything became blurry. The room was spinning, and I knew I’d more than reached my limit. I couldn’t think or see straight, but I continued to stare at Talen, like he was the only thing in my entire world that was steady. We laughed and talked about anything we could think of. It felt amazing to just let loose and laugh uncontrollably. The next morning, I wouldn’t remember anything we talked about, but right now, it didn’t matter. While we talked, we shifted closer together. Talen’s hand was resting on my thigh, and I kept rubbing his arm gently. He was muscular without being beefy. I was drunk and horny, so when I leaned over to press my lips against his, I let my body take over. Talen pulled me against him. I slid off my barstool and wrapped myself around him while our
lips moved furiously against each other’s. Talen’s tongue tasted like tequila, and it mingled with mine deliciously. I moaned against his lips when he tightened his grip on me, sliding his hand down to squeeze my ass. I tangled my fingers in Talen’s hair. He used styling gel, and it crunched in my hands, giving me something else to feel. I ran my fingers down his neck, giving myself over to my desires. I didn’t think. I didn’t analyze. I just reacted. Kissing Talen felt like coming up for fresh air. After five years with Perry, I needed a night with a man like Talen. He made me feel free in a way Perry never could. We kissed and kissed, stroked and gasped. We held each other close even as I grew very sleepy. Very tired. So very very relaxed. And as the world grayed out around me, then turned black, Talen’s lips were still on mine.
CHAPTER NINE Talen
I wasn’t a stranger to hangovers. In all my years of drinking, I’d had my fair share of horrible mornings, but this was the worst hangover of my life. When I woke, my throat was on fire. My head felt like it had been split open, and my stomach churned miserably, like it had a pulse of its own. I immediately felt the urge to vomit but swallowed it down. I couldn’t move, and I could barely breathe. My heart raced as I tried to piece together the events of the previous night. The last thing I remembered was being in the strip club. I met some girl at the bar. Dana? Or Dena? I couldn’t remember. With my eyes closed, I could almost picture her face, but it was blurry. She had reddish brown hair and green eyes. Or maybe brown? I tried to focus more intently, but it was no use. I couldn’t remember anything. I groaned and put my hand on my forehead. My head felt sweaty, and I was instantly nauseated again. With a lot of effort, I pushed myself up and slowly opened my eyes. Squinting against the sunlight, I blinked hard. Every cell in my body protested my change in position. The second I sat up, my stomach lurched, and my back began to ache. Opening my eyes had the same effect. My head hurt worse than ever. I leaned back against a pillow and tried again to open my sensitive eyes. When I did, I slowly began to look around the room. I could tell I was in the penthouse suite, but I didn’t know which hotel. The bedroom was huge and ornate. Moving my head as gingerly as possible, I looked to my left and saw my clothes thrown across the room. With a frown, I glanced down at my body. I wasn’t naked, but I only wore boxers and I needed to piss like a racehorse. Inch by inch, I slid from the bed, expecting to hurl at any moment. It wasn’t until I was fully upright that I noticed the lump of sheets on the other side of the bed was moving. Shit. As if I were a thousand years old, I walked around the bed so I could get a better look. And hell, it was the girl from the strip club. The side of her face was pressed into a pillow, and her mouth hung wide open. I stared at her, trying desperately to remember what happened. My mind was a blank. I couldn’t remember anything past laughing my ass off with her. Then kissing her. Then… what? Dani. Just like that, her name sprang into my head. “Oh, my god,” I groaned, pressing both fists to my temples and sitting down again. “What the fuck happened last night?” I spoke softly, not wanting to wake her up yet. The bedroom door suddenly swung open, and Brandon stepped inside. He was frowning and looked to be hungover too. He
looked from me to Dani and then back again, but I only shook my head. I didn’t know what to say. Brandon’s appearance surprised me more than anything else. He was dressed, head to toe, in an Elvis impersonator costume. He even had a wig plastered to his head. “What the hell are you wearing?” I asked and would have laughed if I hadn’t been afraid the sound would shatter me. “What?” Brandon frowned and moved toward a mirror on the wall. He looked at himself and grimaced. “Well, that’s nice.” “What happened last night?” I asked weakly. “What the fuck did we do?” “I don’t know.” Brandon pressed his hands to the back of his neck and stumbled over to the bed. He sat down, and we both glanced at Dani to see if she’d woken up. “Whatever it was must have been pretty crazy, because there’s a pile of puke in the living room the size of Texas.” “Jesus,” I moaned. My head split open again. “I remember her,” Brandon said, pointing to Dani. “She left the strip club with us.” “I don’t even remember leaving,” I said softly. “I remember meeting her, but then everything else is a blank.” “She definitely left with us, but I don’t know where we went from there.” Brandon shook his head. “Maybe we just came back here?” “Maybe.” I wanted to believe Brandon, but something told me he was wrong. The size of my headache was enough to make me question everything. I wanted to wake up Dani and ask her, but I wasn’t ready to face her yet. “Her friend was a stripper,” Brandon said, his brow furrowed in concentration. “Or something, right?” “I have no idea. I wish I knew.” “Let’s wake her up,” Brandon suggested. “No. Let her sleep. She’ll probably freak out when she wakes up anyway.” Brandon pulled the wig off his head and tossed it onto the floor. “She might remember something though.” “If she does, she’ll still remember it in a few hours.” “What should we do until then?” Brandon asked, scratching his head. “I think I’m going to shower.” I tried to push myself off the bed, but I wasn’t strong enough. “Or not.” Brandon snickered then winced, his hand landing on his forehead. “You look like an ass.” “And you look like Elvis,” I shot back. “Very funny.” “I try.” I closed my eyes again, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep and wake up
in a different body. I hated myself for getting that drunk. Like a million other mornings, I silently swore that I would never drink again. Even then, I knew it was a lie, but it made me feel better all the same. Brandon shot me a look. “You know what’s bothering me the most?” “What’s that?” “Why didn’t I bring a woman back? How did I strike out and you ended up with her?” Dani moaned and closed her mouth, and I realized just how pretty she was. “Luck of the draw.” “Bullshit,” Brandon muttered. “We both know I have more game than you.” “Maybe not in an Elvis costume,” I pointed out. “Hey,” he said sternly. “Elvis plays.” I barked out a laugh, immediately regretting it. “Whatever you say.” Dani groaned and rolled over. Brandon and I stared at her while her hand flew to her head. She groaned and rubbed her forehead between her thumb and forefinger. I wanted to say something, but I didn’t want to scare her. She probably didn’t even know where she was yet. As she rolled back over, her eyes flickered open and fell on my face. She blinked a few times before she jumped up and scooted away from me. I held up a hand. “It’s okay.” “Where the hell are we?” she demanded, then winced and pressed her hand to her head again. “Some penthouse,” I said and shrugged. “I don’t know where exactly.” “What the fuck happened last night?” she asked, repeating the question I’d asked myself a hundred times this morning. “We were hoping you could tell us,” Brandon said. Dani’s eyes turned to him, and she frowned. She looked from Brandon to me and then back again. I could see the wheels turning in her head, but she looked just as confused as we were. Without a word, Dani lifted the covers and peered underneath them. She breathed a sigh of relief and covered herself up again. “I don’t think anything happened,” I assured her. “Me neither. I’m still dressed.” I looked down at myself, hoping my morning I-haven’t-pissed-yet wood was gone. It wasn’t. “And I have my boxers on, so I think we’re good.” “Well, there’s that at least,” she said weakly. Dani fell back against her pillow and pushed out a breath. I could tell from her face that she was in pain. Her head was probably pounding, and I was sure her stomach was a wreck.
“Maybe we should get some breakfast,” I suggested. “We could probably all use something to eat.” “God, I can’t even think about eating right now,” Dani groaned. “It’ll help,” Brandon assured her. “I’ll order room service.” With that, he headed back into the living room, and I turned to face the woman in my bed. I tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “I’m sorry,” I said. “For whatever the hell happened last night.” She offered a tiny nod. “Me too. I just wish I knew what—” Dani suddenly stopped talking. She’d been wringing her hands together just seconds before, but she was now frozen. Her eyes widened in horror, and she turned slowly toward me. “What?” I was immediately on edge. “What is it?” Without a word, Dani held up her hand. I stared at it, not sure what to look for. When my eyes fell on her ring finger, I stopped breathing. There was a small gold band wrapped around her finger. It was her left hand. I looked down at my own hand. I wore a matching ring. In an instant, I flashed back to the night before. I remembered leaving the strip club with Dani on my arm and Brandon beside us. Brandon was screaming something at everyone we passed while Dani and I laughed nonstop. I couldn’t remember what Brandon yelled, but I could hear the tone of his voice. Happy. Jovial. “Did we…” I began, but I couldn’t finish the sentence. “I mean, we didn’t?” Her eyes nearly took up her entire face. “We couldn’t have. Right?” I didn’t know what to say. Just minutes before, I had no memories of the previous night, and now, the ones I did have were confusing and unclear. I couldn’t make sense of anything. “I ordered us some pancakes,” Brandon said, walking back in the bedroom. “And coffee. I think we all need coffee.” Dani and I just stared at him in horror. The second I saw him again, I had another flash. The three of us were standing in a chapel. Dani was holding flowers, and I had two rings in my hand. That was all I remembered, but it was enough to confirm my fears. I was married. Dani and I got married. Dani, a stranger, was my wife. I felt my stomach bottom out, and I ran to the bathroom. I barely made it before I hurled in the toilet. When I was done, I slowly made my way back to the bedroom. Brandon was frowning, clearly confused. He glanced at me, then back at Dani. “What’s going on with you guys?” he asked blankly. “Why do you both look like that?” I opened my mouth to explain, but Dani beat me to it. “You bought the suit off the minister.”
The confused look only got worse. “What?” “I remember,” she said, louder this time. “We were in a chapel somewhere and you…” She gasped and pointed at my best friend. “You… There was a minister wearing an Elvis suit, and you bought it off him. You gave him three thousand dollars to trade clothes with you. You even… you even took the wig.” “I did?” Brandon laughed. “That’s nuts! Wait, why were we in a chapel?” Brandon’s eyes fell on my face and understanding finally dawned on him. His mouth fell open, and he took a step backward. “Holy shit,” Dani muttered. She put her head in her hands and whispered to herself. I wanted to say something to comfort her, but there was nothing to say. We were both thoroughly freaked out. “I can’t believe this happened,” I said, falling onto the bed beside her. “How did we… How could we have…?” “I don’t know,” Dani said. “I don’t know. I barely remember anything. It’s just flashes of things, and nothing makes sense.” “Same here,” I admitted. “But I think it’s pretty obvious that—” “I know,” Dani interrupted. “Just don’t say it. Don’t say it.” We fell into an awkward silence broken only by Dani’s repeated whispers of “holy shit.” When I looked back at Brandon, he was staring at me with a grin on his face. I frowned and glared at him. “What the hell are you smiling about?” I demanded. “Nothing, man,” he said, still grinning. “I just… This is fucking crazy.” I glanced at the nearly catatonic Dani. “We know, but it isn’t funny.” Brandon shrugged. “It’s kind of funny.” “How?” Dani came alive, glaring at him. “How the hell is this funny?” “You’re married,” Brandon said with a nervous laugh. “You two are fucking married.” The second he said the words, everything suddenly became too real. I couldn’t process anything anymore. I leaned forward and let the ridiculous situation overwhelm me. I laughed softly, and Dani glanced at me in disbelief. Soon, I was laughing so hard that I couldn’t stop. Brandon joined me, and after a few seconds, so did my… gulp… wife.
CHAPTER TEN Dani
You two are fucking married. The words rang in my head even as the three of us sat in the bedroom laughing for what felt like hours. My stomach ached from the effort, and my head was pounding worse than ever, but I ignored all of that. The only thing I couldn’t ignore was my confusion. I was still unsure about how everything went down. Talen and I were married. Married. And I barely remembered any of the ceremony, if there even was a ceremony. After our laughter subsided, I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to focus. I thought about the previous night’s events. Madison dragged me to Vegas with her, and suddenly, it was Saturday night, and I was in a strip club. I remembered the bartender pouring me countless drinks, and I even remembered Talen joining me at the bar. I concentrated hard, but nothing else was clear. I knew Talen and I kissed at the strip club, but that was it. Everything else was a void of blackness. I remembered nothing but the tiny glimpses that I longed to forget. My anger came back hard and fast. I no longer felt the desire to laugh or even smile. I just wanted this nightmare to end. I wanted to go back to sleep and wake up in my own bed. I wished my entire adventure in Vegas had been a dream. Anger coursed through my veins as I looked back at Brandon and Talen. They were staring at each other, communicating silently the way Madison and I did. “This is a disaster,” I said. Brandon shrugged. “It’s not that bad.” “Not that bad?” I half yelled then pressed my fingers to my temples. “That’s easy for you to say. You aren’t the one wearing a wedding ring!” And when I tried to rip the damn thing off my finger, it wouldn’t budge. “Shit!” Brandon rolled his eyes. “Look. You guys can just get the marriage annulled, okay?” “We can?” Talen asked, then brightened. “We can.” “Of course, you can,” Brandon laughed. “Do you really think you’re the first two people to ever get married in Vegas? Come on. This happens. Just go get it annulled and put it behind you. Go today.” “It’s Sunday.” I was instantly annoyed with Brandon. He was standing there in his ridiculous Elvis costume, and I just wanted him to leave. Or, at the very least, shut up. “It’s Saturday,” Talen corrected with a frown. I looked at him blankly. Was he kidding? “He’s right,” Brandon said. “We came to Vegas yesterday, which was Friday, so today is—”
“Sunday.” I searched for my phone and found it on the nightstand. I opened the calendar app and threw my phone at Talen. He looked at it and frowned. “Holy shit,” he said. “How did we forget an entire day?” “I guess you guys were drunker than you thought,” I snapped. “But that doesn’t really matter now, does it? What matters is that it’s Sunday, and we can’t get an annulment today. So, what are we going to do?” I felt panicked. In my entire life, I’d never done anything so stupid. I wasn’t perfect, and there were times when I even acted crazy, but getting married in Vegas was something different. I never imagined I would find myself in this situation. Here I was, sitting on a hotel room bed with two total strangers staring at me. One of which was my husband. Husband. Just thinking the word made me want to throw up. I was livid, both with myself and with my husband. “Maybe we should talk alone,” Talen said softly. “Dani?” I looked at him. His eyes bored into mine, and I could see the fear in them. I was terrified, but so was he. It wasn’t fair of me to blame him for everything. We were both drunk. We were both responsible for what happened. I sighed and nodded slowly. He was right. We needed to talk. “Let’s get freshened up and go get something to eat,” he suggested. “I ordered room service,” Brandon reminded us. “You can eat it,” Talen snapped. “Dani and I need to talk.” “Okay.” Brandon held up his hands in surrender and left the room. I watched him go, happy to see the back of him. Every word that came out of his mouth pissed me off. I pushed my hair back from my face. “I’m going to shower.” Even though I didn’t have any fresh clothes to change into, getting the smell of alcohol off me had to help. “Okay.” Talen nodded. “I’ll get dressed and wait for you.” I hurried into the bathroom and closed the door behind me. Wasting no time, I undressed and jumped into the shower, trying to wash off the stink of the night.
*** Downstairs, Talen and I sat down for lunch. We hadn’t realized how late it was when we woke up but breakfast was long over. Our meal was awkward, but we tried to make small talk. I remembered very little, and Talen remembered even less. Part of me was angry with him, but another part felt bad. He’d clearly had a rough weekend, and our marriage wasn’t entirely his fault. Still, I wished he remembered at least some detail from the previous night. Instead, he only remembered my name. “I know,” Talen said. “I should remember more, but I—” “It’s fine. It’s not like I remember much either.”
“I can’t believe any of this happened,” Talen said softly, sounding like a record on repeat. “Me neither.” I took a sip of my coffee and tried to think of something else to say. “I’m sorry.” “Yeah,” Talen said. I expected him to apologize too, but he didn’t. He just stared down at his plate of food with a blank expression. I could tell he was thinking about something, but I didn’t know how to ask him what it was. After all, we barely knew each other. “I remember meeting you at the strip club where my friend Madison works.” “Right.” Talen nodded. “I went there with Brandon.” “And I guess we all left together,” I said. “Though the only thing I remember after that is being in the chapel when Brandon bought the Elvis suit off that minister.” “I wish we knew more, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.” Talen shrugged. “It’s over.” I sighed. “You’re right.” We fell silent again, each of us picking at our food. I wasn’t hungry, but I knew I needed to eat. My stomach was still weak from the alcohol, and food would help. Still, I had to force it down my throat a bit, and it didn’t leave much time for talking. From the look on Talen’s face, he felt the same way. He grimaced each time his fork hit his lips. “God, I hate hangovers,” I groaned. “Me too,” Talen agreed. “I think this is my worst.” “Mine too. Easily.” Talen smiled at me, and I smiled back. His blue eyes looked darker this morning, but I didn’t know if that was just the light. As I stared at them, I remembered kissing him the night before. The memory hit me hard in the chest, and suddenly, I could almost feel his lips on mine. I even tasted the tequila on his tongue, and it made my stomach churn again. It felt so real that I wanted to kiss him again. As we looked at each other, I wondered if he was thinking the same thing. He was even more attractive in the daylight. His black hair wasn’t styled anymore. It hung limp on top of his head, but it still looked nice. It complemented his eyes. I cleared my throat and looked away. I didn’t want him to know what I was thinking. “Your father…” Why had that suddenly sprung to mind? “Did you say something about him last night?” “What?” Talen asked, a dark expression crossing his face. “Yeah, I remember now. You were talking about your dad and how much you hated him. Or something like that. You were really angry with him. Right?” Talen didn’t speak. He stared at me in disbelief, and I watched while his expression became more and more enraged. In a second, his face was red, and his eyes were dark. He glared at his plate, and I slowly leaned back. I didn’t know what was making him so upset. My confusion was worse than ever.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just remembered it, that’s all.” “We need to take care of this,” he said bluntly. “Immediately.” My heart began to beat faster. “What?” “This,” he said, waving his hand in the space between us. “Our marriage. First thing tomorrow morning, we need to end it.” “Okay.” I agreed with him, but I didn’t understand his anger. “I don’t have a problem with that.” “I mean it,” he snapped. “You aren’t leaving here until we get divorced. Is that understood?” I glared back at him now. Who did he think he was? He didn’t have the right to lay down orders and expect me to follow them. I felt the lava of anger boil to the surface, and my hangover didn’t help. “Look,” I said. “I want this over as much as you do, okay? You don’t have to be an ass.” “I’m not being an ass,” he barked. “I just don’t want to be married to you.” I threw my napkin down. “And you think I do?” I scoffed. “Come on. This is a nightmare for both of us.” He groaned and rubbed his face with both hands. “No. You have no idea what you’re talking about.” “Then why don’t you explain yourself?” He shook his head and stood up. Reaching into his pocket, he threw money onto the table and took a few steps away. “I’ll book you a room for the night. Charge any food you want and some clothes from the shop to the room. Toiletries. Whatever you need. I’ll take care of it.” “But…” I licked my lips. “I don’t even know your name.” He sighed and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. With a deep exhale, he pulled out his wallet and tossed his business card onto the table. “Talen Gaston. That’s how I’ll book the room. And seriously, get anything you need.” He looked so sad, and I wanted to reach for him. “See you tomorrow.” He walked away, and I watched him go in surprise. All I did was mention his father, and he’d changed so suddenly. I didn’t know why, and at that moment, I didn’t care. I just wanted this all over so I wouldn’t have to see him again. I sat at the table for a long time, not wanting to bump into him at the reception desk. The last thing I wanted to do was follow Talen’s orders, but I knew he was right. If we were going to get our marriage annulled, then we would have to do it in the morning and I couldn’t afford a room in this type of hotel on my own. I could drive to my apartment, but I didn’t want to do that either. Sleep. Maybe a long bath. Then more sleep.
Talen had secured me a room just like he’d promised, and I stopped by the gift shop for only the things I absolutely needed. And as hot water ran in the tub, I vowed not to think about my husband until the next morning.
CHAPTER ELEVEN Talen
I didn’t sleep at all that night. My mind was racing. All I could think about was how stupid I’d been. Not only did I let Brandon drag me to Vegas and get wasted, but I married a strange woman. The worst part wasn’t even the marriage. It was the deep sense of failure sinking into my stomach. Even when I rebelled against him, somehow, my father still got exactly what he wanted. He demanded that I get married within the next month, and boom, I did. As the sun rose, I gave up on sleep. I climbed out of bed and slowly made my way into the bathroom. I showered, brushed my teeth, and got dressed. It was far too early for Dani to be awake, but I couldn’t stay in that room for another second. I needed to move, to do something other than dwell on my predicament. Once I was ready, I strode into the living room, where I found Brandon passed out on the floor. He was right next to the front door, so I’d have to step over him to leave. I sighed and bent down, slapping him on the forehead. Brandon jerked awake violently. I stepped back to let him get accustomed to the light. He squinted at me and then groaned, rolling around on the floor. “You look like hell,” I grumbled. “I’ll be fine,” he said, slowly pushing himself to his feet. “I’ve had worse.” “Haven’t we all.” “Man, you should have been there last night,” Brandon said as he flopped onto the couch. “It was crazy, but in a good way. No one got married, so that’s a plus.” “Shut up,” I groaned. “You know I couldn’t go out last night.” “Hey, it might have taken your mind off everything.” I looked down at my hand, at the ring I’d yet to take off for some damn reason. “Not likely.” “Did you get any sleep?” Brandon asked. I shook my head. “No. I’m heading down to the lobby to meet Dani. We’re getting the annulment today.” Brandon nodded but didn’t say anything. He watched me closely with narrowed eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something but was unsure if he should. “I have an idea,” he finally said. I was immediately worried. Brandon’s ideas were never good. “Just hear me out.” “I’m right in the middle of fixing all the problems from your last idea,” I reminded him. “Remember? I wouldn’t even be in Vegas right now if it wasn’t for you.”
“Oh, don’t blame me for your poor decisions,” Brandon defended. “I’m not, but—” “Will you just listen?” Brandon asked, frustrated. “Fine.” I folded my arms over my chest and waited for him to continue. “Well,” he began. “I was just thinking that getting an annulment may not be your best option.” I wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. “How?” “This marriage could be your answer. Think about it. Your dad wants you to be married when the investors arrive, right? Well, man, you’re already married! Check that fucking box.” “Married to a woman I don’t know,” I reminded him. “A woman who doesn’t want to stay married to me.” “But you can convince her.” Brandon pretended to shell out dollars from his hand. “Just offer her money or something. She’ll totally be up for it.” “That’s insane,” I scoffed. “There’s no way I’m doing that.” “Why not?” Brandon demanded. “This is your golden ticket, Talen. This is the way you get your father off your back.” I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. My first instinct was to walk out without so much as entertaining Brandon’s idea. Then, I stopped myself. He wasn’t entirely wrong. If by some miracle, I managed to convince Dani to stay married to me, my father would be pleased. He would get off my back, and I wouldn’t have to worry about being cut out of the business. As crazy as it was, Brandon’s plan was good. Still, I couldn’t help but feel guilty for even considering it. “I can’t do that to her,” I said with a shake of my head. “Dani seems like a nice person. How can I use her that way?” “It would only be for what, a month?” Brandon asked. “That’s nothing. Besides, you could pay her enough money to make anything worth her while.” “Not everyone caves for money,” I said. He rolled his eyes. “Most people do. All you can do is ask her.” Why was I even considering this? “That’s true.” “And if she says no, you can always threaten her. Just say you won’t give her an annulment. You’ll make her take you to court.” “No.” I pointed a finger at him. “I can’t do that.” “Okay, fine,” Brandon said. “I’m just saying, court proceedings would take a month anyway. So, either way, you’d be married for the perfect amount of time.” “I don’t think the investors would be impressed with a snarling wife at my side.” He threw up his hands. “Then make her happy, dipshit. Turn on that Gaston charm.
Wine her. Dine her. Shell out some dough. Presto chango, she’s smiling and batting her lashes at you.” Again, he wasn’t wrong. I hated to admit, even to myself, that Brandon’s logic made perfect sense to me. As I turned to leave the penthouse, I let my mind run through all my options. I could either give Dani the annulment that we both wanted, or I could coerce her into staying married for a few weeks. Just a few weeks. My declining morals argued with my sense of self-preservation the entire way down to the lobby. When I arrived in the main waiting area, I looked around for Dani. She wasn’t there, but I wasn’t surprised. It was still early. I sat down to wait for her. The minutes ticked by slowly, and I couldn’t help but formulate a plan. I never consciously decided to follow Brandon’s advice, but somehow, that’s exactly what I was going to do. When Dani came into the lobby, I planned to invite her to breakfast and offer her a deal. If she didn’t like it, I would give her the annulment. I refused to threaten her. That just wasn’t my style. Despite Brandon’s insistence, I didn’t want to be a total dick to Dani. She didn’t deserve that. “Morning.” I jumped up quickly and offered her a smile. “Hey!” She looked taken aback by my pleasant greeting. She didn’t smile back. But she was still lovely. Even though she clearly hadn’t slept any more than I had, something about her was so attractive. “Well, we should get going,” she said, gesturing toward the door. “Why don’t we get some breakfast first?” I asked, looking at the restaurant behind us. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Oh, come on,” I pushed. “It’s the least I can do after everything.” Dani thought about it for a second before she shrugged. I led the way to the hotel’s restaurant, and we were seated immediately. It was still early, and no one was up yet. Dani and I ordered breakfast and sat in silence until it arrived. I wanted to talk to her, but I didn’t know how to begin. The longer we sat there, the crazier my plan began to feel. Still, I knew I had to try. Taking a sip of my coffee, I prepared myself for the worst. I cleared my throat and set my mug down. My food was in front of me, but I hadn’t touched it. Dani was eating silently, not looking at me. “Listen,” I said softly. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.” “Okay.” She sounded nervous, and I didn’t blame her. “Do you remember when I told you about my father?” Dani tensed but didn’t respond. “Well, there was a reason why I was so upset. You see, last week, my father demanded that I find myself a wife before the end of the month. We own a very large pharmaceutical company and—” “Gaston Pharmaceuticals.” “You’ve heard of it?” I asked, surprised.
“I’ve heard of you,” she admitted. “Though, I didn’t realize who you were when we met. I looked you up last night and put the pieces together. You have quite the reputation.” “I know.” I pushed my fork around on my plate. “Which is why my father’s worried. Our investors are coming to town next month, and he wants us to present the right image to them. My being married is, apparently, the right image.” “Okay,” Dani said. A look of concern crossed her face. “So…” Shit, why was this so hard? “I wondered if you could do me a favor.” She licked her lips and my cock pulsed in my pants. “A favor?” “If you would be willing to just stay married to me for a few weeks, that would—” “What?” Dani shouted. “No! Are you kidding?” “It wouldn’t be for very long,” I explained quickly. “Only for a few weeks, a month.” Her head was whipping from side to side. “I’m still not—” “I’ll pay you,” I said desperately. “I’ll pay you a lot of money. There must be something you need, right? Some debt or something to pay off? I can help you. I’ll pay you. I will.” Dani’s eyes narrowed, but I thought I saw something else in their depths. A glimmer of hope? For a fraction of a second, she considered taking my offer. Then, her consideration disappeared, and she glared at me. I knew she wasn’t going to go for it unless I did something drastic. “No,” she said firmly. “That’s insane, and you are insane. I won’t stay married to you, not for any amount of money.” “Dani…” I knew I sounded desperate, but I didn’t care because I was. “Please.” “No!” she yelled. “Do you even realize what you’re asking? I don’t know you.” Her anger fueled my own. I’d told myself that I wouldn’t threaten her, but as I sat there, I realized it might be my only option. “I won’t give you an annulment,” I said firmly. I hated myself for it, but I kept talking. “I won’t sign the papers. You’ll have to petition for a divorce and take me to court. That will take at least a month or two. By the time everything is said and done, the investors would already be here. It will be quicker and more painless for you if you just agree.” Dani’s eyes widened in shock. She couldn’t believe what I’d just said, and truthfully, neither could I. I felt like the scum of the earth for threatening her, but it was over. I’d done it. Now, I just had to wait for her response. “You’re threatening me?” she asked, her voice unsteady. “You’re actually threatening me.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “I’m sorry, but I need this. Trust me, I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t have to.” “You don’t have to!” she snarled.
“I do!” I took a deep breath and repeated more softly. “I do. Like I said, I’ll pay you. Just agree, and I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.” Dani’s green eyes locked on mine, and she stared at me with disgust. I could tell how much she hated me, but I didn’t care. This wasn’t something I wanted to do. It was something I had to do. My father had forced my hand the day he demanded I find a wife. While I hated the idea of obeying his orders, it seemed that fate had other ideas. For whatever reason, I met this woman and we got married. Drunk off our asses or not, it was official. “The money will be good,” I promised. “We can work out the details later, but I’ll pay you one hundred thousand dollars.” She gasped and lifted those magnificent eyes to meet mine. Then sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples. “You know. Money can’t buy you everything.” She no longer looked mad, just… disappointed? With more grace than I’d seen anyone possess, she stood and left the restaurant. I watched her go, wondering if I should chase her. Part of me wanted to run after her and demand an answer, but I could tell she needed space. We both knew that she didn’t have a choice. Once I threatened to not sign the annulment papers, the game had changed. I didn’t know much about her, but I could tell that she didn’t have the money for lawyers. Taking me to court would be costly and ineffective. I had her backed into a corner, and we both knew it.
CHAPTER TWELVE Dani
In twenty-five years on this Earth, I’d never been as angry as I was right now. As I stormed out of the restaurant, I seriously considered suing Talen for all he was worth. I would sue him for a divorce and so much more. More than anything, I wanted to teach him a lesson. I hated being manipulated and threatened. Talen wasn’t worth my time or my energy, and yet, I was stuck with him. My mind was racing, and my face was on fire. I felt a rage unlike anything I’d ever felt before. In an effort to calm myself, I pulled out my phone and called Madison. If there was anyone who could help me make sense of things, it was her. The phone rang six times before Madison finally picked up. Her voice was rough and sleepy. I had forgotten how early it was. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I know I woke you up, but this is important.” “What is it?” I could hear her sit up in bed. “What’s wrong? Is it your mom?” “No. Don’t panic. It’s nothing like that.” “Then, what?” Madison demanded. “I’m married.” I said it fast, forcing myself to spit out the words before I lost my nerve. Madison’s breathing faltered on the other end of the phone. “Y-you…” she stammered. “You’re… you’re married?!” “I know,” I said frantically. “It’s a mess. The guy I met at the strip club—” “Yeah, the super hot one.” God, he was so hot. Dammit. Focus! “Yes, him. Well, his name is Talen Gaston, and I guess he’s insanely rich. His father owns this pharmaceutical company and—” “Holy shit,” Madison breathed. “Holy shit.” “I know.” I took a deep breath. “But there’s more. We got married while we were drunk. Like, completely wasted. I barely remember anything, but I knew we’d gotten married. We planned to meet up this morning and go get the marriage annulled. It would be like it never happened, you know? Over. Done.” “Yeah,” Madison said. “That sounds like a great plan. What’s the problem?” “He’s refusing to do it!” I shouted into the phone. I glanced around the lobby to make sure no one heard me. “He says he won’t sign the papers.”
“Why?” Madison demanded. “His father has this crazy idea that he should be married. I guess the investors want to see Talen settled down, and he thinks I’m the magical answer. He wants me to stay married to him for an entire month just to please his dad!” “A month?” Madison asked. “A whole freaking month,” I repeated. “He said if I don’t agree, then he won’t sign the papers and I’ll have to take him to court. How crazy is that? I mean, he offered to throw money at me like—” “He offered to pay you?” “Yes, but I don’t want his damn money.” “I don’t know, Dani,” Madison said softly. The tone of her voice stopped me. “What?” “Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea.” I could tell she was afraid of my reaction, but I was too shocked to speak. “You need the money, right? I mean, you said he was rich.” “He is, but still.” “Think about your mom,” Madison said quickly. “This could help you pay for her care. She could go to a place where she would never be alone. Isn’t that what you want?” The weight of the world settled onto my shoulders. “It is.” “And it’s only for a month,” Madison continued. “A month is nothing. You can handle anything for a month.” “He’s trying to buy me, Maddi,” I said. Her logic made sense, but I didn’t want to admit that. Talen had been a dick to me, and I couldn’t imagine staying married to him. “He’s renting you, at worst,” Madison argued. “And it sounds like he’s just desperate.” She was right. I remembered the look on Talen’s face the first time he mentioned his father to me. He looked defeated and beyond depressed. I remembered feeling terrible for him. Then, that next morning, he lashed out at me because I mentioned his dad. He was livid. I was so angry at the time that I didn’t stop to try to find out what it all meant. As I thought back to Talen’s offer, I pictured his face again. He didn’t seem demanding or angry. Madison was right, he was just desperate for something, anything that might help him. I didn’t want to consider his offer, but I suddenly felt like I had to. Not just for myself, but for Talen. There was something about him that intrigued me. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I was drawn to him for a reason. “You really think this is a good idea?” I asked my friend. “I do,” she said firmly. “He doesn’t sound like a bad guy, just a spoiled one. I think he just wants to please his father, and he can’t think of any other way to do that.” “But is it worth it?” I asked, speaking more to myself than to Madison. “Is the money worth it?”
She laughed softly. “You’re asking a woman who shakes her tits for a buck.” She sighed, growing serious again. “You’ll have to decide if it’s worth it, but if you’re asking me, it is. If it means you can help your mom and take some of the financial stress off your back, then it’s worth it.” Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. “Thanks, Maddi. I have to go.” “Talk soon,” she said. “Talk soon,” I said back. When I hung up the phone, I stayed still for a few minutes. Madison was right. I couldn’t pass up this opportunity to help my mother. Talen admitted to being wealthy. If I asked, I was certain I could get enough money to pay for my mom’s care. I wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore. She would always be well taken care of, and that, more than anything, was what made me turn around and walk back into the restaurant. As I approached the table, I saw that Talen was still sitting there. He hadn’t touched his food, and he was staring off into the distance. He looked defeated and hopeless, but I didn’t know why. He’d won. We both knew that I was backed into a corner I wouldn’t be able to escape from. Either I took his offer, or I spent money I didn’t have on a lawyer. He’d planned it out perfectly, but from the look on his face, he wasn’t happy about it. “I’ll do it,” I said, sitting down across from him again. Guilt. Relief. Anger. Hope. It all flashed over his expression. “Seriously?” “Yes. I’ll be your wife for a month.” “Thank you.” I think it must have been the most sincere appreciation I’d ever received. My throat closed, threatening to choke me. I coughed into my abandoned napkin. “Just tell me what I have to do.” He blinked, and I could almost see the wheels begin to turn in his mind again. “Well, basically, you’ll be by my side for the next month. I’ll take you to meet my parents, you’ll come into the office, and you’ll be present when I meet with the investors. You’ll be on my arm at every social event, and most likely, we’ll appear in the tabloids.” “Tabloids?” I asked with wide eyes. “I know,” he said. “It sucks, but it’s a facet of my life. I can’t avoid it.” “Okay.” I already didn’t like this plan. “What else?” “That’s really it,” he said with a small smile. “I appreciate what you’re doing.” “Don’t thank me,” I snapped. “We both know you blackmailed me into this.” “I did,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not grateful. I am. You have no idea what this means for me.” I fiddled with the napkin in my hands. “Well, I could use the money.” “Yeah?” Talen asked, leaning toward me, genuinely curious.
“Yes,” I said without offering any further explanation. I didn’t think he deserved to know about my mother. She was the closest person to me, and I wanted to protect her. Talen had already proven himself to be untrustworthy. While I couldn’t help but feel a certain attraction to him, I wasn’t going to tell him any more details about my life than he needed to know. “Why don’t we go to dinner tomorrow night? We can go to the Le Jean. Have you heard of it?” I blinked. The Le Jean was one of the top three restaurants in Nevada. It was fancy and expensive, and I’d never stepped foot inside. Immediately, I felt intimidated, but I didn’t want Talen to see that. I gritted my teeth and nodded. “Great.” He looked so relieved. “We can get dinner and discuss the finer points of our deal. At the end of the month, we’ll meet with the investors. Once that’s over, you’ll be free. I’ll sign the annulment papers, and you’ll never have to see me again. Plus, you’ll get your money then too.” I licked my lips, and my stomach twisted when his eyes followed the movement. “Okay. Anything else I should know?” Talen shook his head. “Just meet me at the Le Jean tomorrow at eight.” “All right,” I said, already rising to my feet. I was ready to put as much distance between us as possible. “I should go.” “Wait,” Talen said. “You still have my number?” I nodded but didn’t speak. “Call me so I’ll have yours.” Like a robot, I did what he said and his phone buzzed on the table. He smiled and added me as a contact, then showed me the phone. He’d called me “Wifey.” I rolled my eyes, and with one last glance at his face, I turned to leave. Our deal was done, and there was no longer any reason for my presence. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked into the hotel lobby. I hurried toward the elevators so I could return to my room, then remembered that none of my things were here. I’d been staying with Madison, so there was nothing for me to collect. The few things I bought were stuffed into the gigantic bag hanging from my shoulder. Feeling suddenly exhausted, I turned away from the elevators and froze. It was him, heading my way. My heart began to race, and I realized I didn’t want to face him again. Not yet. Not after everything. It was bad enough that I had to see him the following night at Le Jean, but I couldn’t stand the idea of making small talk with him right now. Frantically, I threw myself behind a potted plant and hugged the wall. He didn’t so much as glance in my direction. Still, I felt ridiculous as I pulled myself away from my hiding spot and glanced over my shoulder. Talen was gone, but my heart was still pounding inside my chest, and I didn’t know why. The only thing I knew was that I needed to get out of here. Fast. I ran toward the doors and stepped outside. A wave of hot but fresh air knocked into me, and I immediately felt better. My head cleared and my heart rate slowed down. I shook my head, telling myself that I was acting crazy. Talen wasn’t someone I needed to
be afraid of. He was just some guy I never should have met. He meant nothing. Not really. As I hailed a cab and climbed inside, I breathed a sigh of relief. I normally hated taking cabs anywhere, but that morning, I made an exception. I was so ready to get home that I didn’t care how I got there. I leaned my head back against the seat and let the cab driver head out of the city. The bumps in the road helped clear my head, and soon, I felt like myself again. It didn’t matter than I was technically Mrs. Gaston or that I would have to stay that way for an entire month. All that mattered was that I was finally going home.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN Talen
I tightened my tie and adjusted my jacket. Le Jean had a dress code, so I wore one of my best black suits with a light blue shirt. The shirt matched my eyes perfectly. I always loved the way I looked in this suit. As I smoothed some gel into my hair, I wondered how the next month was going to go. I hated the idea of being married, even if it was a sham. It felt awful, but I told myself it would be worth it. As soon as the investors were gone, I could return to my normal life again. Part of me worried that my game would still suffer. If the tabloids printed that I was married and then suddenly divorced, would any woman still want me? I had to push my concerns aside and focus instead on the task ahead. My father needed to approve of Dani. She and I would have to act like a real couple so that the investors believed us. If they questioned the validity of our relationship, they would then question their investment in the company. I was jumpy from stress as I left my apartment and headed toward the parking garage. I had called Dani earlier that day to get her address. At first, I planned for her to meet me at Le Jean, but when my head cleared, I realized it was an asshole move. The least I could do was pick her up like a real gentleman. Our arrangement was purely business, but I already felt like an ass. I didn’t need to make myself feel any worse. When I pulled up to Dani’s apartment complex, I realized how little I knew about her life. The apartments were slightly run down, but they had a certain charm. I entered through the gate and drove slowly toward her building. I parked and headed toward her door. She lived on the first floor, and I could tell from the windows that her apartment was small, probably just a single bedroom. She clearly lived a more modest life than I thought. She had admitted to needing the money. From the look of things, Dani needed my money more than she let on. It made me feel a bit better knowing that I wasn’t the only one benefiting from our deal. Stepping up to the door, I raised my fist to knock. My knuckles were just centimeters away from the wood when I hesitated. Nerves hit me like a bucket of snakes and I felt like a teenager stepping onto a girl’s front porch for the first time. My damn hands were shaking slightly, and I could feel myself sweating beneath my suit. I lowered my hand and shook my head. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to relax. I wasn’t trying to impress Dani. This wasn’t about romance or creating a connection between us. This was business. With that thought in mind, I finally knocked and almost immediately heard footsteps inside. It sounded like Dani was wearing high heels. Taking a small step backward, I waited for her to open the door. When she did, my mouth fell slightly open. Her long auburn hair was tied back in an elegant ponytail, and she wore a short green dress that made her eyes look like emeralds.
Her dress was classy without being gaudy. I was taken aback by her beauty, but I quickly recovered. Smiling, I held out my arm to her. “Shall we go, or do you need a few more minutes? I can come inside and wait.” Her eyes widened, and she threw a quick look over her shoulder. “No. There’s no reason for you to come inside. I’m ready.” I wasn’t nervous anymore. I was actually happy to see her. “Okay. Let’s go then.” Dani stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind her. She moved so quickly that I couldn’t see anything inside her place. I suspected that was her intention. “In fact,” Dani said while we walked to my car. “That should be part of our deal.” “What should?” “You don’t need to be at my apartment,” she said firmly. “There’s no reason for it.” “Okay.” I was a little annoyed, but I tried not to let it show. I knew she was just trying to place some boundaries on our, for lack of a better word, relationship, but I still felt slightly offended. We reached the car, and each climbed inside without a word. If this was a date, I would have opened her door for her, but I didn’t think she would have liked that. Her demeanor was standoffish and stoic. I wanted to make conversation on the way to the restaurant, but I didn’t know what to say. Every time I thought of something, I immediately realized how stupid it would sound. So, I drove through the city in silence. When we reached Le Jean, I pulled up to the valet and handed him my keys. Dani and I walked inside, still not talking. I glanced at her, taking in her appearance again. She really was a gorgeous woman. I considered giving her a compliment but was afraid she would take it the wrong way. Dani already had a way of keeping me on my toes. Just her presence made me acutely aware of my actions. “Reservation for Gaston,” I said to the hostess. “Of course. Your table is ready for you. Right this way, Mr. Gaston.” “Call me Talen,” I said with a smile. “Mr. Gaston is my father.” The hostess laughed, but I thought I heard Dani sigh softly behind me. She clearly wasn’t impressed by my little joke. I cleared my throat and stuffed my hands in my pockets, suddenly more self-aware than ever. As I studied the menu, I glanced up at my… wife. “I think we should come up with a backstory.” She frowned. “A backstory?” “For us.” I gestured between the two of us. “People will wonder how we met and fell in love. We should think of something concrete to tell them. That way there are no discrepancies.” “Okay.” She stared down at her menu. I waited for her to speak, thinking she might
have some ideas, but she said nothing. Her eyes were focused intently on the menu in front of her. “Maybe we met in college?” I offered. An elegant eyebrow lifted. “Where did you go?” “Dartmouth.” “Won’t work,” Dani said, shaking her head. “Why not?” She gave me an are you stupid look. “Because I didn’t go there.” “But the investors won’t know that,” I pointed out. “One quick internet check and they would.” She was right. That wouldn’t work. If any of the investors bothered to Google Dani Brooks, they would know she didn’t attend Dartmouth, and our lie would be revealed. “Okay.” I took a sip of water. “Then we stick to the truth.” Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell slightly open. Her expression was almost comical, but I knew better than to laugh. “I don’t mean the whole truth,” I said with a smile. “Just that we met in Vegas. It’s the truth, and it’s believable.” “Okay,” she said with a shrug and turned her attention back to her menu. I fell silent, waiting for her to speak again. I expected her to help me come up with our story, but she didn’t seem at all interested. “So, where exactly did we meet?” I asked. “We can’t say a strip club. That wouldn’t be good. Maybe one of the casinos? The Palazzo? Or Bellagio?” “Whatever…” she shot me a glance before it fell back to the menu. “Just tell me what you want me to say to them, and I’ll say it.” I sighed. She was frustrating, but I didn’t want to start an argument before we even ate dinner. As I watched her from across the table, I wondered how to loosen her up. She and I needed to work together if we had a prayer of making this thing work. “How about some wine?” I offered. “Do you like red or white?” She frowned. “I don’t want any.” “Something else then. A martini maybe?” “No. I don’t want to drink with you.” Her words were harsh and brisk. I leaned back in my seat and tried to relax. I was already tired of her attitude. This situation wasn’t easy for either of us, but we needed to get along, or it would all fall apart. If she refused to meet me halfway, then we needed to end this charade now. “Listen,” I said softly. “I know this is weird, okay? But we have to act like a real couple. Otherwise, there’s no point to any of this. I know you don’t know me, and don’t
give a shit about the predicament I’m in, but I’m asking for your help. Can you just pretend to care for like five seconds?” I knew it wasn’t fair. Even though I was paying her, Dani was doing me a favor, and I owed her a lot. I should have been nicer to her, but my patience was wearing thin. She refused to participate in our conversation. She barely looked at me, and when she did, it was with contempt. I was beginning to wonder if she would be able to fake it well enough. At this point, no one would believe she was my wife. No one. “I still don’t want to drink with you,” she snapped. Just like that, what little patience I still had left my body. I sighed and leaned forward, resting my hands on the table between us. “You don’t have to, but when we’re around other people, you have to act like you like me. We’re married, remember? In case you didn’t know, newlyweds are usually happy.” “I don’t know if I can do this,” Dani said with a shake of her head. “What do you mean?” I demanded. The brow shot up again. “Just what I said. I don’t know if I can do this.” She tossed down the menu and stood, hurrying away from the table. I thought she was just going to the bathroom. Maybe she needed some time alone to relax and calm down, but when I followed her with my eyes, I realized she was heading toward the front door. Shit. Damn. Fuck. My irritation hit an all new high. I take her to a nice restaurant, the nicest restaurant in the state of Nevada, and she was leaving. Who did she think she was? It’s not as if this arrangement was that difficult for her. She was being paid, after all. I was the one who had to put in the most work, not her. It was up to me to convince my parents and the investors that my marriage was real. All Dani had to do was stand by my side and act happy. Apparently, she couldn’t even do that. I jumped up from the table and ran after her. I flew across the restaurant, throwing myself against the door. When I burst outside, I scanned the area for some sign of Dani. She didn’t have a car so she couldn’t have gone very far. When I finally saw her, she was getting into the back of a cab. I ran forward, trying to catch her before the car drove off, but I wasn’t fast enough. Right when I made it to the street, the cab pulled away. This woman was going to make me crazy.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN Dani
I hadn’t seen my mother at all since my trip to Vegas. Her neighbor had been kind enough to check in on her each day, but I still felt guilty for leaving her alone. It had been days since we’d seen each other. I wondered if she would be angry or worse… if she would even realize how long it had been. When I pulled into her driveway, I felt myself begin to shake. Before my mother’s dementia set it, I would have told her everything that happened over the last two weeks. My breakup with Perry. My crazy, drunken marriage. Everything. Now, I knew I couldn’t. Not only would it confuse her more than ever, but she would become inconsolable. Her emotions were always on edge, and it was my job to keep her calm. I couldn’t risk upsetting her just to make myself feel better. As much as I wanted her advice, I couldn’t ask for it. I had to stay strong, no matter how hard it was. My mother was counting on me. I stepped through the front door to find her sitting on the couch. She was watching television and didn’t notice me come inside. It made me nervous that she was so oblivious. If someone broke in, she wouldn’t even realize until it was too late. Not for the first time, I was grateful that she lived in a safe neighborhood. “Mom,” I said, walking over to her. “Hi.” She startled. “Oh, Dani Bug, I didn’t hear you come in.” “I’m sorry. I should have knocked.” “Don’t be silly,” she laughed. “You never have to knock. How are you?” “I’m okay,” I said with a fake smile plastered on my face. “I had a long weekend. How are you feeling?” “Just wonderful,” she assured me. “I feel just wonderful today.” “That’s great,” I said and meant it. She really did seem to be okay. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and her eyes were alert. So often now, she was pale and disoriented. I liked to see her this way. “So, Mrs. Gleason checked on you this weekend, right?” She blinked rapidly and almost seemed surprised to see me beside her. “What?” “Mrs. Gleason,” I repeated. “She came over this weekend?” “Um,” she blinked again, and suddenly, her eyes weren’t as alert. She looked around her, trying to find her bearings. I hadn’t meant to confuse her. “Don’t worry about it,” I said quickly. I grabbed her hand and held on. “Let’s talk about something else.” The lines on her forehead deepened, but she nodded. “Okay.”
“My art show went well. I—” “You had a show?” she asked with excitement. My stomach dropped. “I did.” I ignored the tears pricking the backs of my eyes. “Last week.” She turned fully to me, looking for a moment like a little girl. “Oh, how was it?” “It was great,” I lied. “I sold so many paintings. I think my art is really starting to take off. You would have been proud of me.” “I’m always proud of you,” she gushed. My throat clogged. “Thank you,” I managed to say. She patted my hand and turned her attention back to the television. I knew she couldn’t focus on our conversation for too long. It was draining for her. She did the best when she could just sit and relax. Her mental capabilities were failing her more and more. I hated seeing it. It broke my heart each time she got a little worse. We sat together for a few hours, just watching television and relaxing. Everything was fine until it wasn’t. Mom squealed and jumped to her feet. Right away I could see the problem. She had wet her pants. “It’s okay,” I said gently, but she had already begun to cry and fret over the mishap. “You change and I’ll get this cleaned up.” She looked mortified, her cheeks flushed a bright pink as she trudged to the bedroom, and I got to work on the seat cushion. After that, I did a load of laundry while she napped, my mind spinning like the washer the whole time. Seeing my mother that way was the hardest thing I’d ever experienced. Just a few days before, she seemed okay. Now, she was deteriorating again. These things happened so quickly that I was never prepared for them. One second, she just forgot small details, and the next, she couldn’t remember how to use the bathroom properly. While I folded her clothes, my eyes began to water. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have the resources to care for her properly. She so desperately needed to be in a home, but I couldn’t pay for it. My mind turned to thoughts of Talen, and I wished I hadn’t stormed out of dinner the night before. Talen had a way of getting under my skin. In the short amount of time that we’d known each other, he was able to infuriate me more than anyone else ever had. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him that bothered me so much, but I hated it. Still, I knew I shouldn’t have left like that. In the moment, I didn’t think I could handle being his wife for an entire month. Just talking about the plan made me queasy. Coming up with a backstory? A lie? It sounded so terrible, so unlike me, that I wanted to run screaming from the restaurant. While I didn’t scream, I did run. I ran all the way to the street and grabbed the first cab I saw. It wasn’t smart, but it was what I needed to do. As I stood in my mother’s house, listening to her soft snores, I knew I’d made a mistake. Talen was offering me a chance to finally make some real money. I worked constantly, either at my part-time job as a
waitress, or my other part-time job as a bookstore clerk. Together, I was still barely able to pay for rent and essentials. My paintings weren’t selling the way I needed, and my mother’s condition was getting worse every day. She couldn’t wait much longer. I sighed and folded the last of the laundry, thinking that I needed to call Talen as soon as I got home. That afternoon, I said goodbye to my mom and headed home to get ready for my waitressing shift. I’d seriously thought about staying the night in case she needed me, but she seemed better. Her mood had improved by the time I left, and she almost seemed like herself again. She would be okay until the morning at least. I drove through town, enjoying the silent comfort of my car. My head was still spinning with thoughts of Talen and my mom. I’d made my decision while I folded her laundry, but I still didn’t feel right about it. The idea of calling Talen and asking for a second chance felt wrong. My cheeks flushed with shame before I even made it to the restaurant. Hours later, my feet hurt but I had another hundred dollars in my pocket so I couldn’t complain too much. It was after midnight when I let myself into my apartment, and my eyes fell on my easel. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while, and I wasn’t ready to call Talen yet, so I placed a blank canvas on the wood and went to work. Again, I didn’t plan my painting. I just chose a few different colors, and let my emotions lead me. I thought about my mom and Talen. I remembered the way I felt when I woke up next to him, my new husband. As my paintbrush hit the canvas over and over again, tears formed behind my eyes. I blinked them away, not wanting to obscure my view of the painting. When I was done, I took a step back and admired my work. The painting was of the chapel where Talen and I got married. It was blurry and unclear, exactly the way I remembered it. It looked like it had been doused in water, the colors running smoothly together. I smiled to myself. I didn’t need anyone to tell me this painting was good. I knew it was. There was a beauty to it that wasn’t easily achieved. I was immediately proud of myself and filled with a sense of confidence. I rode that confidence all the way to my phone. When I picked it up, I dialed Talen’s number without hesitation. It rang twice before he picked up. “Dani,” he said, his voice sleepy. I glanced at the clock and realized it was after four in the morning. “Hi.” “Hi,” I said back. “Sorry for calling at this hour, but I wanted to apologize for the way I acted last night. I shouldn’t have left dinner. That was rude.” “Yeah,” he said but not unkindly. “It was, but I understand. This entire situation is crazy.” “I’d like another chance to make this work,” I said quickly before I could lose my nerve. “I think we can both get something out of this arrangement.” “That’s what I’ve been saying since the beginning.” There was a bite to his tone. I didn’t appreciate it. He was upset about the previous night, but that wasn’t an excuse. This wasn’t easy for me, and I wished he could appreciate that. Instead, he was acting like
a child. I was frustrated, but I forced myself to stay calm. Picking a fight with him wouldn’t do either of us any good. He needed my help, and I needed his money. My mother’s face flashed before my eyes, and I took a deep breath. She was my reason for everything. I had to find a way to help her, even if that meant sucking up to Talen. “You were right.” I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry.” “Okay,” Talen sighed. “Well, if we’re going to do this, then your attitude needs to change.” “My attitude?” I asked, immediately bristling. “Yes. You can’t keep walking out when you don’t like something. You have to actually participate. Otherwise, no one will believe we’re a couple.” He was right, and the knowledge made me want to scream. Instead, I took one of the deep, cleansing breaths I learned in a yoga class long ago. “I can do that,” I promised. “But I’m not the only one who needs to change.” “What does that mean?” “It means that you can’t keep bossing me around,” I snapped and immediately went back to my yoga voice. “I’m not your property, Talen. I understand that you’re paying me to do this, but I’m still a person. You need to show me some respect.” “I have been!” he argued. “At least, I’ve tried, but you haven’t exactly made it easy.” “Neither have you,” I fired back, all hope of calm lost. We were both silent for a few seconds. I could hear Talen’s breathing on the other end of the phone. We were butting heads again, and I seriously wondered if we would be able to pull this off. Finally, I sighed and sat down on my couch. One of us needed to budge, or we would end up right back where we started. “Let’s just agree to be nicer to each other,” I said softly. “You respect me, and I’ll respect you, okay? We have to work together, right?” “Right,” Talen agreed. “We do.” I leaned my head against the cushion, feeling very tired. “Okay. So let’s just start there.” Talen was silent for a few minutes. I waited to hear his response, hoping that he would agree with me. I wasn’t about to let him walk all over me, but I knew I could be a bit nicer than I’d been. This situation wasn’t entirely his fault. “Dinner tomorrow night,” Talen suggested. “We can talk more then, okay?” “Sounds good.” I tried to smile, but I was glad he couldn’t see me. The smile was weak and all my trepidation would have shown in my eyes. “I’ll text details. Have a good night. Um, I mean morning.” There was actually a bit of humor in his voice. We seemed to be making some progress. “Good whatever,” I said, really smiling this time, and hung up.
I set the phone down and laid back on the couch. With my eyes closed, I tried to remind myself why this was a good idea. I would have to see Talen again, and I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but I had to believe it would be worth it. I thought about the money and how much it would mean to my mother. She would be able to move into a stable environment where she would always have someone around to help her. That, more than anything, was my motivation. When I sat back up, my eyes fell on my painting again. It looked even more beautiful the longer I gazed at it. I could see my pain and sadness reflected in every color. There was an undeniable desperation in each brushstroke. And as I stared at my reality as told on canvas, I began to cry.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN Talen
Dani’s phone call took me by surprise. When she stormed out of Le Jean, I never thought I would hear from her again. I fully expected to get served with divorce papers in the next couple weeks. Instead, she called me and apologized. She still sounded slightly angry, but she admitted to being partially at fault. She was right. We both needed to be nicer to each other if our fake marriage was going to work. I hated that she continued to challenge me, but also appreciated her strength. Dani wasn’t the kind of woman who would roll over and play dead. She could hold her own against me and anyone else. I picked her up with no real plan in mind. I was dressed casually. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of our last attempt at dinner. I thought Le Jean might have been too much pressure for her. She was just now ready to work things out, and I didn’t want to scare her away again. So, this time, I wore jeans and a tight-fitting button up. I looked good without trying too hard. As I knocked on Dani’s door, I felt that same nervousness that overwhelmed me the last time I arrived at her apartment. Dani answered the door wearing a long sundress. She looked pretty in a simplistic way. I smiled at her and stood aside to let her out since she was clearly not letting me in. She smiled back and followed me to the car. Again, we didn’t say much as we climbed inside, but the air between us didn’t feel tense. “I didn’t plan anything for tonight. Is there someone you’d like to go?” “Um.” She looked surprised that I’d asked. “There’s a tiny little Italian place down the street. It’s a mom-and-pop shop, but the food is amazing.” “Sounds perfect.” I backed out of the parking spot and followed her directions to the restaurant. We arrived within five minutes. When we stepped out of the car, I scanned the outside of the building. The restaurant really was tiny, but it had a certain charm to it that was appealing. We walked inside. Dani led the way to an empty table without waiting to be seated. I assumed they didn’t have a hostess. I looked around, taking in the ambiance. The room was dimly lit, and the tablecloths were dark red. There were candles lit on each table. If I didn’t know better, I would have said this was the perfect place for a date, but I knew that wasn’t Dani’s intention. From the look of the menu, the food was going to be authentic. I ordered manicotti, and Dani ordered chicken alfredo. We both stuck to the simple things, each of us ordering a glass of wine to accompany our meal. I smiled when Dani ordered hers, glad that she was loosening up a little. I could tell from the way she nursed her glass that she was drinking to calm her nerves, but I didn’t care. I was just happy to see her relaxing again. “I’m glad you called,” I said. “Really, I am.”
“Me too,” she said with a shy smile that was so attractive. “I felt bad about the way we left things. This situation is so screwy. It’s hard to remember that it isn’t all your fault.” “I know.” I wanted to take her hand, comfort her in some small way, but I didn’t think my touch would be welcomed. “I didn’t exactly make this easy for you, Dani.” “Hey, you didn’t force me into that chapel.” She laughed and pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “That was both of us.” “I still don’t know exactly how that happened,” I admitted, still trying to sort through that night. “Me either.” She laughed again. “When in Vegas, right?” “Something like that.” I laughed back and took a sip of my wine while Dani finished her first glass. I ordered her a second one, and she thanked me. “So…” She drew out the word, her grin widening, causing my cock to twitch. “I guess we should come up with a backstory.” I relaxed a little. “We should.” “Well, since I don’t know these investors, what do you think we should say?” I thought about it for a second. She was right. It really should be my decision, but I was nervous. I was afraid to say or do the wrong thing. “I think we should say we met a few years ago. We met and became friends, but didn’t start dating for a while.” Dani nodded. “Where did we meet?” “Well, college is out.” “We could always say a strip club,” Dani teased. “Stick to the truth.” “Ha. Ha. Not funny.” “A little funny,” she argued. “Somehow, I don’t think my father would appreciate that very much.” “How about an art show?” Dani suggested. “We met at one of my art shows.” “You’re an artist?” I asked and realized how little I really knew about the woman across from me. “I am.” She looked down at her fingers. “Not a very successful one, but I paint.” “That’s amazing. Art show it is. We met at your art show and became friends. Then, we started dating a few months ago and just knew it was right. We got married privately, just the two of us because we wanted it to be intimate.” “Perfect.” Dani nodded. “That way no one will ask too many questions about it.” “Exactly. But we should decide where we did it. Maybe Paris? Or Rome?” “I don’t know.” Dani shook her head. “That may be too far-fetched. I mean, I’ve never even been out of the country. And aren’t marriage licenses public record?”
She had a point. “Then where?” “The church of Elvis, of course,” Dani teased. I chuckled along with her, and soon, we were both laughing. It felt like back in the hotel room that Sunday morning. We laughed hard, and I watched as tears formed in Dani’s eyes. For the first time, I really believed we might be able to pull this off. We ate and talked, drinking wine while getting to know each other. By the time dinner ended, we were both slightly tipsy, and our story was set. We officially met at Dani’s art show, became friends, slowly fell in love, then got married. It seemed like the perfect story. I didn’t think anyone, except maybe my father, would be able to poke holes in it. “So,” Dani said. “There’s only one thing left.” “What’s that?” I asked while I paid the bill. “Why did we keep it a secret?” she asked. “We got married privately to protect our intimacy, but why didn’t we tell anyone right after?” “Maybe we were just too blissed out.” I shrugged. “Our love was just so strong that it overshadowed everything else.” Dani rolled her eyes. “If you think people will buy that.” “You don’t?” She laughed and placed a hand on my arm. I wasn’t even sure if she knew she was touching me. “It’s just so cheesy.” “People love cheese.” “Fair point,” Dani conceded. Once the bill was paid, we left the restaurant and headed toward my car. We climbed inside, and I started the engine to let the air conditioner work its magic on the sweltering evening. “Listen,” I said. “I know this is going to sound bad, but I was thinking. If we’re going to act married, then you should probably stay at my place for a few weeks.” Dani blinked. “What?” I gave her an apologetic look. “No one will believe we’re married if we live in separate apartments.” Dani stared out the window for a second. She was tipsy from the wine, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. She didn’t like the idea, but I knew I was right. This was the only way to be sure. I nearly melted in relief when she nodded. “Okay. That makes sense.” “I can take you there now,” I suggested. “Just so you can see it.” She lifted a shoulder. “Sure.” I smiled and pulled out of the parking lot. We drove through town, talking, and laughing together. Our conversation was easy this
time. I didn’t know if it was the wine or just our new promise to be nice to each other, but I felt at ease with Dani in a way I hadn’t before. I no longer felt nervous or unsure of myself. I was glad to be with her, glad to be taking her back to my place. When we arrived at my building, I parked in the garage and led the way to my apartment. I lived on the top floor, so we rode the elevator all the way up. Dani’s eyes were wide when I opened my front door. “When you said apartment, I thought you meant something a bit more like mine. This isn’t an apartment.” I shrugged. “Sure, it is. Just a really big one.” Dani laughed and shook her head. Her eyes roamed around the entryway and living room. I saw my apartment through her eyes, and it did look huge. Once you made it out of the entryway, there was the kitchen to the right and three bedrooms to the left. My room, the master, was probably as big as her entire apartment, and the master tub was large enough to swim in. The guest rooms were much smaller but still nice. There was a guest bathroom down the hall. All of that coupled with the terrace was a lot to take in. I felt slightly embarrassed that I hadn’t warned her, but she didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she seemed impressed. “I should have known,” she said as we walked into the living room. “You’re rich, after all. I don’t know why I didn’t expect this.” I shrugged. “It’s nothing.” “It’s beautiful,” she said, her eyes connecting with mine. I stuffed my hands in my pockets to keep from reaching for her. “Thank you.” We stood together awkwardly. I thought about offering her a drink, but I thought the wine in our system was probably enough. The last thing I wanted was to get her drunk again. “Listen,” I said softly. “There’s one other thing I thought of.” “Yeah?” she asked, turning to face me. “When we kiss in front of people.” My eyes fell to her lips. “We’ll have to make it believable.” “Kiss?” Dani’s eyebrows shot up. “We’re married,” I reminded her. “Married people kiss. Hug. Touch.” “That’s true.” She licked her lips and I remembered the taste of them. Wanted to taste them again. “But, we’ve already kissed, remember?” “Not sober,” I pointed out. She nodded and kept her eyes on mine as I stepped closer to her. Part of me was telling the truth. I wanted everything to be believable. Still, a bigger part of me just wanted to kiss her. She looked gorgeous, and her lips had been calling to me all night. My attraction to her never faded, even when we were yelling at each other. As I wrapped my hands around her waist, I expected her to pull away, but she didn’t. She stepped forward,
pressing her body against mine. Our lips touched lightly at first. I kissed her gently, not wanting to freak her out. As we kissed, I felt her body come alive beneath my hands. The kiss deepened, and she wrapped her arms around my neck. Her fingers found my hair as I slid my tongue into her mouth. She parted her lips for me, and I tasted the wine on her tongue. Everything about her, about this, was perfect. I knew we should pull away soon, but I couldn’t. Dani wiggled against me, and I could tell how badly she wanted me. She wouldn’t admit it, but I could feel it. I was hesitant to push things further, but I wanted her so badly. Our kiss became more passionate and my cock swelled in approval. Testing the water, I slid my hand down to her butt. At first, just my fingers touched, but when she didn’t pull away, I squeezed her gently. She moaned against my lips, and I took that as permission. In an instant, our kiss intensified. Dani’s hands tightened in my hair, and I gripped her ass so tightly that I could almost feel her skin beneath the thin fabric of her dress. We broke apart for just a second. Dani gasped as I lowered my lips to her neck. I licked her skin in long strokes, feeling her shiver against me. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to have her. Slowly, I led her to my bedroom.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN Dani
Talen held my hand and pulled me behind him as he led me to his bedroom. My heart was pounding, and my lips tingled from his kiss. I wanted him to kiss me again and never stop. I didn’t know if it was the wine in my system or just my attraction to him, but my entire body ached to be close to his. Talen turned and pulled me against his chest. We stepped into his room while his lips collided with mine again. He pushed me backward toward the bed, his hands roaming over my body. I kissed him hungrily, trailing my fingers down his chest. I could feel the curves of his muscles beneath his shirt, and I wanted to feel more. I unbuttoned each button quickly, shoving his shirt aside. It fell off his shoulders and landed on the floor. My hands returned to his chest. His skin was hot beneath my palms, and I wanted him more than ever. I kissed him harder, tasting his tongue and his lips. He groaned as his fingers pushed the straps of my sundress down my arms, and soon, the dress was a puddle at my feet. He pulled back, gazing down at me. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.” I stood before him in nothing but my bra and panties, but I didn’t feel exposed. I was excited and eager. Without prompting, I stepped backward and sat down on the bed. Talen looked at me with desire in his eyes. I stared at him for a second, taking in the sight of his shirtless body before he leaned down and pushed me onto my back. Climbing on top of me, Talen kissed me again. His hands tangled in my hair. I loved kissing him, but I was ready for more. I pushed him away, just enough that I could reach behind me, and unhooked my bra. Talen’s eyes traveled down to my bare breasts, and I saw another flash of desire. I grinned at the sight. He wasted no time. His lips found my chest, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. When he took my nipple in his mouth, I gasped and wrapped my legs around his waist. Everything he did felt amazing. My hands clawed at his back while his explored my hips. His teeth continued to tease my nipples, and I soon came completely undone. Talen pushed himself off me abruptly. He slid his jeans off in one swift motion, his boxers following close behind. Damn, he was sexy. His dick was erect and perfect. His body was muscular, and I longed to touch him again. He came back to the bed, but stopped at my stomach to place gentle kisses there while he pulled my panties down. Within the space of a few heartbeats, I was lying completely naked, exposed to his hot gaze. As his weight settled onto me again, his lips on my neck, I trembled with desire and need. Unable to take it anymore, I flipped Talen onto his back and straddled him. I feasted on his lips as if I were a starving woman, my body rocking hard against his. I wanted to
feel him inside of me. I rubbed my wetness against his cock, grinding against him slowly. Talen grew unbelievably harder as he reached for my breasts, rolling the nipples between his fingers. With a grin, Talen flipped me back over, pinning me to the bed. He licked my neck, and I shuddered. When his hand slid down between my legs, I lifted my hips to meet him. He played with me for a few seconds, his fingers sliding down my wet folds before circling my clitoris. “God, you’re so wet for me.” I stared into his blue eyes, losing myself completely. When his fingers sank into me, I sighed and pressed myself harder against him. “I want you,” I whispered and his nostrils flared. “God, I want you too.” Nothing existed beyond this room, beyond us as he kissed and stroked me to release. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” Talen dipped his head and took one of my nipples deep into his mouth. Then he moved lower, and lower still. He kissed my hipbones and thighs before hooking my legs over his shoulders and diving into my heat. I cried out and clutched at the blankets, arching into his mouth as his tongue swirled over my clit. I looked down my body and met his eyes as he licked and probed, stimulating nerve endings I didn’t know I had. Heat pooled between my thighs, growing hotter and hotter with every lick, every touch. A knot of tension tightened in my core, and I sank my fingers into his hair just to keep myself from floating away. Talen moaned against my clit, and the vibration shot through it as a finger sank inside me. I cried out and bucked against him, unsure if I could handle the double assault on my senses. “Oh, Talen. Yes, yes…” He added a second finger, then twisted them both, stroking some hidden part of me that acted like a trigger for my release. Pleasure barreled through me, and I came undone in time and space. I heard myself scream his name as I floated to a place that was unfamiliar. I shuddered, riding high on the ecstasy of the moment as Talen began to kiss up my stomach, scraping my skin with his stubbled chin. By the time he reached my breasts, I was sane again, my