Love Ignited

by Jacie Lennon

  “Who was that?” His voice is deceptively calm.

  “Kyle,” I say, praying the doctor will walk in and interrupt.

  Mason stares at me a moment before looking away and clearing his throat. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you what to do or how to handle your ex. But I do have a vested interest in your well-being now, and I would like to know that you are safe. A man like him won’t give up easily.”

  I’m starting to get that impression as well. I thought that if I ignored Kyle long enough, he would leave me alone, but it only seems to add fuel to his fire.

  I climb on the table to wait and look back at Mason. “I never imagined he would be like this. He acts like I’m at fault for not running back to his open arms. He’s the reason I came back to Nashville. He grabbed my arm at the coffee shop back home, and I got scared. I didn’t tell him I was leaving or where I was going, and now, I’m terrified that he tracked me down,” I admit, the panic rising in my chest, leaving a crushing sensation on my body. “He’s not taking no for an answer.”

  “You should get the police involved,” Mason says, leaning forward to brace his arms on his legs and piercing me with a stare that dares me to disagree.

  “I know. I am just afraid it won’t go anywhere. He hasn’t broken any laws, and I’m scared of making him angry. I don’t know what he’s capable of now.”

  A knock sounds, and the door opens. The doctor peeks her head in and effectively ends our conversation before Mason can reply. The rest of the visit ends with the news that our baby is right on target for growth and development at eight weeks and two days, and the doctor wants to see me back in a month. Mason is quiet through the rest of the appointment, but I can sense his thoughts, and I’m not sure if I’m going to like what he has to say once we are alone.

  Sitting on the passenger side of his truck, I clasp my hands together to keep them from fidgeting. Mason climbs in and starts the truck, pulling out of the parking lot, and it takes me a second to realize we aren’t headed back to my apartment.

  “My place is that way.” I point behind us.

  “I know. We aren’t going to your apartment,” Mason says with a nod, reaching his hand over to turn the heat up a bit in the truck.

  “Where are we going?” I narrow my eyes at him.

  “My apartment.”

  “Why are we going to your apartment?”

  “So you can stay with me tonight,” he says.

  “I’m not staying at your apartment. I don’t have any of my stuff.”

  Mason is silent for a moment then he glances over at me before speaking, “Then I’m getting a change of clothes and my toothbrush.”

  I know why, but I have to ask anyway, “Why?”

  “Because I’m staying with you tonight. If you won’t take action against that douche bag, I’m at least going to make sure he doesn’t bother you.”

  “No, it’s fine, really. I’ll be okay. I have two locks on my door, and I check them religiously every night.”

  “Don’t care. I’m staying.”

  “You can’t just stay without me being okay with it,” I fire back.

  I’m scared of Kyle, but I’m more scared of these raging hormones that keep telling me to jump on Mason, to hold him down and have my way with him. There’s no way I can resist for an entire night.

  “Try me,” he says nonchalantly before turning the radio up and tapping the steering wheel to the rhythm of the music.

  I guess I have a houseguest for the night.

  Lord, help us all.

  23

  Mason

  I can’t for the life of me figure out what Jules saw in that asshole. But I’ll be damned if I let the woman carrying my child stay by herself with that predator on the loose. I have no illusions that he packed up and went home just because I’d told him to. Guys like him don’t give up easily. So, it was an quick decision for me to grab my stuff and stay with Jules. It’s not like we can make any bad choices … she’s already pregnant.

  Jules is quiet the entire ride to her place. I can sense the tension rolling off of her in waves, but I don’t care. I’m staying whether she likes it or not. She tries to jam the key into the lock three times before angrily making it the fourth time, muttering curse words under her breath. I hold back a smile, knowing that will only make her angrier if she sees it. Throwing open the door, she stalks back down the hallway to where I assume her bedroom is while I place my bag down on the couch. A door slams, and I hear running water.

  This should be a fun evening. I snort and sink onto the couch, grabbing the remote to turn the TV on.

  I look up as Jules walks back in the room. She’s changed into a cutoff T-shirt and a pair of running shorts.

  Damn. My cock twitches, and I reach to grab a pillow and set it in my lap.

  I watch her ass jiggle as she walks to the kitchen. It almost looks like she adds a little sway to it as if she knows I’m watching. She doesn’t turn around or look at me, but she busies herself in the kitchen, pulling stuff from the fridge and setting it on the counter.

  “Are you hungry?” she says into the space above the sink that’s open, allowing her to see into the den area.

  Fuck yes. I could eat you right now.

  “Yeah, sure,” I say, trying to sound unaffected.

  She glances up and catches my eye, and I watch as her mouth twitches. She’s doing this on purpose. This wasn’t a ploy for me to get her in bed. This was strictly a mission of protection on my part.

  “Are you not cold?”

  It’s the end of January, and it’s freezing outside.

  “No, I’ve been burning up lately. I sleep naked a lot.”

  Her back is to me, and I can’t see the expression on her face as she says that last part. I imagine if I were in bed with her, she wouldn’t get a lot of sleeping done.

  “Are you going home to see your parents anytime soon?” I try to change the subject.

  “I think my parents are going to come here for a few days. Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “No, of course not,” I say.

  “I have been meaning to ask if you want to meet them.”

  Do I? Of course, I will have to meet them eventually, but I’m not even sure they know that I knocked their daughter up. Maybe it’s best if I meet them before they know.

  “Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, I will have to at some point, right? Do they, uh … know?” I ask hesitantly.

  She looks up. “No. I haven’t told them yet.”

  I nod as I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Fishing it out, I see it’s Dad calling.

  “Hey,” I answer before stopping to listen to his frantic voice. “Whoa, okay. Yeah … yeah. What? Okay, on my way.”

  Jules is frozen in the kitchen, a knife poised over some bread where she was putting mayonnaise on it.

  “Put some clothes on, Jules. We have to go.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Grams is in the hospital. Dad says it’s bad,” I say.

  Then, I watch her hurry down the hallway before I stand, pulling my coat on, and then I head to the kitchen to wrap up the sandwich she made. Grabbing a bottle of water I find in the fridge, I meet Jules coming into the den, dressed warmly.

  My mind races as I drive. Only slowing when I notice Jules’s white-knuckle grip on the door. I almost forget she’s in the truck when we park, and I quickly jog around to open her door, but I find her already standing outside of the truck.

  “Come on.” I grab her hand, and we take off for the front entrance.

  I find Dad and Debra in the waiting room, and they stand immediately. Dad greets Jules and introduces her to Debra before turning to me. He rests a hand on my shoulder and just looks at me. My heart sinks into the floor, and I want to collapse. I can’t even bring myself to ask. Dad starts talking to me, but I only see his mouth moving. My ears aren’t working right, and I furrow my brow, shaking my head, trying to turn them on. I see Jules out of the corner of my eye, her face white as she st
ares at my dad.

  “What?” I say, the sound rushing back into my head in full force.

  “Cancer, Mason. Stage four. She’s known for a while, but she hasn’t said anything. She chose not to do chemo.”

  “What?” I say again. I can’t breathe.

  Cancer? She’s not sick. She’s been fine. I just saw her the other day. “Where is she?” I ask Dad.

  “In the third room on the left. She’s been resting, but I know she will be happy to see you.”

  I nod and start walking. My mind is in a fog as I’m on autopilot. I stand outside the door of the third room on the left, tears gathering in my eyes, causing me to rapidly blink and take a deep breath. A hand lightly grips my arm, I turn and look into Jules’s eyes, hers brimming with tears as well. That’s weird. She doesn’t know my grams. Why would she cry? Her hand comes up to the back of my neck where she pulls me in, her fingers rubbing small, comforting circles as I struggle to hold back my sobs. I can’t break down. I have to be strong for Grams. I stand back up, pulling myself from Jules’s grip as I vaguely register her saying she will be outside the door if I need her. I don’t need her. I need Grams to be okay. To not be sick. To not have cancer.

  As I open the door, Grams’s head immediately turns toward me, a large smile stretching over her face.

  “Mason, baby. How are you, dear?” she asks as I sit on the side of her bed, my hand wrapping around hers.

  “I’m fine, Grams. How do you feel? Can I get you anything?”

  “No, no.” She pats my hand and then reaches a trembling hand up to caress my cheek.

  “Why didn’t you tell us, Grams?” My voice comes out as a whisper. “Why didn’t you choose to do chemo?”

  “Oh, honey, it was already stage four when they found it at my last checkup. I have to go someday, and I didn’t want to be completely miserable when it was my time. I would rather spend that time with you and your dad and Debra.” She gives me a smile, and her gaze jumps behind me for a second. “Who is your friend?”

  I glance behind me to catch a flash of brunette hair disappearing from the door.

  “I was with Jules when Dad called me,” I say.

  “Jules? Why didn’t you say so? Bring her in,” she demands, pushing against my arm.

  I look back and see Jules’s face appear around the doorway again, eyes wide.

  She mouths, Sorry, to me before I lift a hand to motion her in the room.

  “Get up, Mason,” Grams says before she looks at Jules. “Well, come here, child. Come sit with an old lady for a moment.”

  I move to lean against the sink that sits across from the bed that Grams is lying in while Jules perches herself at Grams’s side.

  “Hi, Virginia. I’ve heard so much about you; I feel like we are already friends,” Jules says.

  I watch a sweet smile stretch across her face as she looks at my grandmother.

  “All lies I bet. Ask me anything, and I’ll set you straight,” Grams says, smiling back at her. “And please, call me Grams.”

  Jules nods.

  Something tickles my cheek, and I reach up to touch the wetness trickling down to my chin. Quickly wiping it, I turn and take a deep breath as Jules and Grams lean in close to talk. I quietly step out of the room, my chest aching as I see Dad and Debra standing down the hallway, talking. I walk slowly to them, knowing I need to ask but not wanting to hear the answer. I stop next to Dad, and he reaches up to clasp my shoulder.

  “How much time?” I grit out, fighting the urge to close my eyes and pretend like none of this is happening.

  Dad doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I finally meet his eyes. Debra reaches across him to grab my hand.

  “The doctor said it’s bone cancer that has metastasized. You know the survival rates aren’t good. It could be anywhere from a few weeks to twelve months with treatment. They are testing her now to see what is going on and where it has spread. But since she opted not to undergo treatment, there isn’t a good chance of …” His voice trails off as I stare at him.

  “What the fuck? I don’t understand why she won’t do the treatment. We need her here. She can’t have cancer.” I wrench my hand from Debra’s grip and run both hands through my hair, making it stand on end as I pull the strands in frustration and anger.

  “I know. But it’s ultimately her choice, son,” Dad says.

  “Why are you so calm?” I turn on Dad and almost growl.

  I don’t understand. Grams is my world, she raised me, and the doctors are saying she’s going to die?

  “Mason, I know you are hurting right now, but you have to calm down,” Dad says, pinning me with a look.

  “Calm down? What? How can I calm down when I have to go in there and convince Grams she needs treatment?”

  “She’s made up her mind, son. There’s not a great chance of a long survival with treatment, and she doesn’t want to be sick for the rest of her time here. She has explained it to me and the doctors. She’s of sound mind, and she has a right to make this decision for herself whether we like it or not.”

  “Hey, Mason?” Jules’s voice sounds behind me, and I spin. “Grams is asking for you.”

  I stalk back toward her room, wrapping my mind around the news that has hit me like a ton of bricks. I have a hundred pounds of weight crushing me and pulling me down now. Pushing the door open, I school my face back into a small smile, not wanting to upset Grams.

  “Mason, come here,” she says sternly, and I do as she demands. “Give me your hand.” She reaches up, and I grasp her hand in mine, covering it with my other hand on top. “You can’t change my mind. I’m an old woman, and I want to go out gracefully. But with the time I have left, I want to spend as much of it as possible with you, Jules, Nick, and Debra. I know this is difficult, but I believe God has a plan.”

  “I don’t like this plan,” I say, my mouth full of cotton. I lick my lips and try to swallow.

  “I want to go home,” she says, ignoring what I just said.

  I blink back tears as my chest clenches, and I nod. “As soon as the doctor says you can go, I’ll take you.”

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” she says with a wink, and I truly smile for the first time since I walked in and learned what was going on. “Now, it’s late, and you need to get your baby mama home.”

  Her grin has a chuckle bursting out of me. I lean down to wrap her frail frame in my arms.

  How have I not seen how thin she has gotten?

  “I’ll be back tomorrow, Grams. You call me anytime.” I pause and wait for her to acknowledge me before laying a kiss on her cheek and gripping her in another hug.

  “Don’t worry about me, baby. I feel fine.” She lies back and pulls the blanket up higher, and my heart breaks.

  I take one more look before walking out into the hallway to tell the nurse she needs another blanket. Once I’m assured she will get what she needs, I head back to find Jules and take her home. We say our good-byes to Dad and Debra and slowly make our way to the parking lot.

  I suddenly feel like a small child again, wanting to be comforted and then realizing that my comfort, my Grams, is dying. It makes my chest ache, and I wish I could go back in time before I knew about her sickness. Before I knew she was going to be taken from me. I glance over at Jules and then reach over, grasping her hand in mine. I have to be strong. I can’t break down.

  We don’t say much on the ride back to Jules’s apartment, but I can feel her penetrating gaze on me every once in a while. I can’t talk about it right now, so I don’t ask her why she keeps looking at me. My heart is shattered, and I’m not sure it can be put back together, no matter who tries.

  24

  Jules

  Mason doesn’t talk on the drive home, and I don’t say anything. My chest aches for him, and I don’t know how I can make it better. Once inside my apartment, I flip the lights on and turn to him, taking in his vacant expression and battered posture.

  “Are you hungry?”

  He sh
akes his head and walks to the couch, slowly sinking into it before dropping his head into his hands. The air between us is awkward. I’m not sure if I should comfort him or leave him alone. I didn’t ever get to know my mom’s parents, and my dad’s parents are still alive. I haven’t had to deal with these emotions that are coursing through him. To make matters worse, Grams raised him, and this is like losing a grandparent and a mother all at once. Granted, she’s not gone, but the outlook is bleak.

  I grab a glass of water from the kitchen and walk to the couch, setting it in front of him. I slowly sit next to him, waiting for him to tell me to leave before I get fully situated but he doesn’t. He doesn’t talk or move or acknowledge my presence. I reach a hand up and lightly rub his back. I’m shit at this.

  Why don’t I know how to comfort someone?

  I would love to hug him, but something holds me back. I reach over to grab the remote, my hand still on his back, and he finally moves. His hand covers mine and clasps down, enveloping my skin in his warm touch before his head swivels to meet mine.

  “Hey, are you okay?” I whisper.

  The pain and anger in his deep blue eyes are almost too much for me to handle.

  “Yeah,” he says, his voice hoarse, and I know he’s lying.

  “Come on,” I say, standing and reaching down to grab his hand. I pull him toward my room, and throwing the door open, I’m thankful I cleaned it earlier that day. “Lie down. I’m just going to take a quick shower, and we can go to bed.”

  He nods, not protesting before reaching for the hem of his shirt and swiftly pulling it over his head. My gaze rakes his body, my tongue peeking out to lick my bottom lip when he reaches to unbutton his jeans and shove them down his legs. I turn swiftly, averting my gaze before quickly grabbing some clothes and darting to the bathroom across the hall.