HeartStrings

by Savannah Kade

  They answered the door at three p.m. to find the front stoop full to overflowing. JD and Kelsey stood at the front, kids lined up in a row. Contrary to Shay's belief that having the boys over would send Kelsey into labor, she was still pregnant. She was now volunteering to do sleepovers in the hopes that Shay was right.

  It took about fifteen minutes to organize everyone, but once they did, beds and bookshelves were assembled in record time. The TV was hooked up and someone else dealt with getting Craig the cable he'd come to love. Once again, Craig waved her underthings at her, before putting them into the top drawer of a dresser they were now sharing. He stuffed his own underwear in the drawer beside hers and it was shocking how wonderful something as stupid as an underwear drawer felt.

  TJ looked hungover and nursed a coffee, grumbling at Craig about not coming out with him anymore, but he worked as hard as any of them. Bridget ran a load of dishes and organized bookshelves, leaving little stickers behind so they could find things. JD and the rest of the band worked in unison, flipping mattresses and lifting and moving heavy things when they realized what they'd initially told the movers wasn't going to work.

  Once it was all put up and the boys had some say in where each of their things went, their friends disappeared as quickly as they came.

  "We're going to have to host a big dinner here soon." Shay grinned at the thought. She'd never had enough friends to do that nor enough space. They'd have to squish in even here, but she was ready.

  That night they ordered pizza and ate it at her dining room table. Bigger than Craig’s had been, it was the one that survived the cut. Though dinner was delivery on paper plates, Shay looked around the table, thinking how all her tries before this had not quite made her place a home, but this time she’d done it.

  She had one step left.

  It took them forever to get the boys to sleep that night. Between the excitement of the day and the strangeness of a new place, Shay filled spare drinks of milk and fumbled with hall lights until things were perfect. Or until the boys were so exhausted that they didn’t have anything left. She wasn’t really sure.

  Weary in her bones from the long day, Shay felt herself starting to nod off, but quickly jumped up. She needed to do this tonight. “I’m heading to bed. You should join me soon if you’re going to.”

  Her eyebrows raised once and stayed there. She hoped her words were enough incentive to draw him away from the TV. Maybe it was too much. He didn’t give her a chance to head into the bedroom first and change into the half sweet/half sexy gown she’d bought for their first night here. Instead he followed her up the stairs, bounding behind her, then tumbling her onto the bed the moment he got the door locked.

  “Shhhh!” She whispered harshly on a laugh as he caged her on the bed. “The boys will hear.”

  “They’re out cold. We can make all the noise we want.”

  He grinned and began slowly peeling her clothes, his smile giving way to need and awe. He made love to her as though she were precious, fragile, necessary. She touched him, knowing he was her rock, and she was his.

  Later, she lay in his arms, both of them breathing heavily as her thoughts swirled around and drifted down to settle in her head. Remembering, she kissed his shoulder and waited another few minutes to roll out from under him.

  “Where are you going?” He asked from his position, tangled in the sheets they’d just laid waste to.

  Standing, she went to the dresser, thinking to get something to pull over her head. Pausing at the thought, she realized it was almost better just naked. Nothing between them. So she reached into the top drawer and palmed the item before turning back to him. “I have a question for you.”

  “I have a bunch of questions.” He looked at her through slightly narrowed eyes as he made room for her beneath the covers.

  “Me first.” She slid in beside him taking a deep breath and then letting all her worries go. In a smooth motion, she held out her hand, opening it to show the platinum band embedded with a row of small sapphires. “Will you marry me, Craig Hibbets?”

  He looked stunned. “I—yes!”

  Then he threw his head back and laughed, a deep satisfied laugh. “You got me a ring.”

  “I did.” She grinned at him. “I asked, so you get an engagement ring. Plus, I want all those girls screaming at you while you’re on stage to know that you’re taken.”

  He turned away, reaching for the nightstand he’d tucked up by his side of the bed. She’d watched earlier as he threw in lip balm, a few books, and the condoms he still had. She’d not seen the small velvet box he now produced. “You beat me to it.”

  He opened it to reveal a simple diamond solitaire, winking at her out of its nest. “I was going to ask you. But I’m guessing I can just put this on.”

  Shay grinned at him even as tears leaked from her eyes. She’d suspected he might do this. First night in the new place and all. They’d signed the papers together; they’d already thrown in their lots with each other. Rings or weddings or not, it was already done. But she’d wanted to make it official, legal. Still she couldn’t help the laughter and smiles and happy tears as her heart swelled, and she watched as he slowly slid the ring onto her finger.

  “My turn.” She held up the band and took his hand, sliding it on.

  “You just had to ask first, huh?”

  “I did.” She looked him in the eyes, serious and sure. “I’ve been married before. They weren’t right. This time, I needed to be the one asking. It couldn’t be just a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ for me. I needed to choose. And you needed to be chosen.”

  He kissed her again, mouth to mouth, and naked flesh to naked flesh. Then rolled her over to wrap himself around her. “I love you.”

  The words came out of him easier and easier. She could hear it.

  “I love you, too. You’re my everything.”

  His fingers laced through hers, resting atop the covers. As she looked down she could see the stones in the two rings winking like promises, like stars, in the night.

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  Need more of the boys from Wilder? TJ’s reckoning is coming. Will Nora be able to save him?

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  Afterword

  Thank you for reading! Shay and Craig fought so hard for their happily ever after and I hope you enjoyed the journey as much as I did. When I started writing this book, I knew everything that happened up until the moment Shay opens the door and finds her fantasy fling on her front steps. After that, I was along for the ride, too! Usually, I know the whole story before I start writing, but this was an adventure for me. They had so much to sort out and I hope I did them justice.

  If you want to catch up with Shay’s little sister Zoe, she’s featured in her own story—Shooting Star, in the Love Found Us series.

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  Preview of Love Notes (Wilder - Book 3)

  He ached everywhere. But mostly his head hurt. It felt like he was coming off the mother of all benders, his brain pounding out his punishment. TJ started to reach up to clamp his h
ands alongside his head, but his arms ached, too.

  He tried to squint so the light wouldn’t hurt so much and he could tug himself up and into the kitchen to get a little hair-of-the-dog. But squinting made him feel like someone had taken a baseball bat to his face. He didn’t go anywhere.

  “Ahhhhh.” He wasn’t much for complaining about what he did to himself, but this morning he just needed to moan a little of it out.

  “TJ?” The voice was soft and female, and contrary to what he expected, he recognized it.

  What he couldn’t figure out was why his brother’s wife was in his bedroom.

  “Hhhmmmmm?” He tried again to squint, and again was rewarded with a crank up on the headache-o-meter.

  “TJ. Oh, thank God.” Her fingers touched his, but he really didn’t want that. He pulled away. Lately his brother and his beautiful wife had begun to wear on his nerves.

  “Kelsey?” It sounded thick and slurred, even to him. But that was just another good reason for Kelsey not to be in here. From behind his eyelids he could tell that she had turned on the light. “Turn off the light and go, I’ll call you later.”

  “TJ. You need to wake up.”

  “No, I need to go back to sleep.” He tried to roll over, and when that didn’t work he just lay still, wondering where the hell what’s-her-face had gone to.

  “Dammit, TJ!”

  That voice he recognized, too. The gods were angry at him.

  “JD, get the hell out of my bedroom.”

  The gods always sent JD to him. JD was their favored son, and in exchange he was given the responsibility of telling TJ when he’d screwed up. The voice was still angry; the gods were still pissed. “TJ, open your eyes. You aren’t in your bedroom. You’re in the hospital.”

  Son of a bitch.

  He cracked his eyes, ready to face the daylight, if only to tell his brother to stuff it. But, when the pain of light hitting nerve endings receded, he saw that he was, in fact, in the hospital. Well, that explained a lot of the pain. “Shit.”

  “That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

  “Oh, God, spare me.” TJ actually managed to get a hand to his head this time.

  JD’s expression went grim. “He usually does. You’ve been charmed, little brother. You’ve escaped scrapes that I would never dream of trying out. I’m going to have to let the doctors explain this one, but God didn’t spare you this time.”

  That got his eyeballs all the way open. Taking in a quick perusal of the bed, he saw that all four limbs remained intact, and he heaved a great sigh of relief.

  “By the way,”

  Uh-oh. From that tone, something horrible he’d done was about to get thrown at him. He just hadn’t decided yet if he cared.

  “The girl who was with you, Marcia Winters, was fine.”

  “Good to know.” Although whether it was good to know she was fine, or just to finally know her name, he wasn’t sure.

  His brother grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “We’re going to go. The doctors will be by in just a few minutes to talk to you.”

  He squeezed the hand back.

  Kelsey came right up beside the bed, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I love you, TJ.”

  He didn’t want to say it back, but he had to. “I love you, too, Kelsey.”

  He had to love her. She had handed Wilder everything they needed to break out of the un-signed rut they’d been in six years ago. She’d also given his brother the sun and the moon, the way JD told it. But, damn, if she wasn’t the one focal point of how JD was still the gods’ favorite. The beautiful wife who greeted his brother at the end of every tour with open arms and a warm bed. A very warm bed, if the three children they’d cranked out since they’d married were any indication. As they left the room hand in hand, TJ realized it was a good thing he didn’t want anything like that, because he was certain the gods would deny him.

  When the room was blessedly empty, he attempted to roll his head from side to side. Some joint limbering was part of his usual after-indulgence routine. This time it didn’t work and the pounding in his head combined with his presence in the hospital seemed like a good sign that he shouldn’t be doing it.

  He blinked a few times, orienting himself in the private room. The bed jutted out into the middle of the room. Machines and poles lined one side of the bed, and if he followed the wires and tubes he could see that several were connected to him. Something dripped from a clear bag into his arm, and another machine pulsed a green line in time with his heartbeat. He was no doctor, but it looked pretty good.

  On the other side of him was a moveable table, pushed to hang partway over the bed, with a pitcher of ice water and a pink plastic cup. He reached out for it, only to realize that he had died and gone to hell. The water was just beyond his reach. He laughed a hollow sound at himself. Normally, Glenlivet was his drink of choice on mornings like these, but now, even the stupid water was out of range.

  He grabbed at the wires and was contemplating yanking them and just sitting up when the doctors came in.

  “Oh, no. Don’t pull on those.” The oldest doctor was trailed by two younger ones.

  TJ looked at all of them warily. “I don’t really need this. I can feel that my heart is beating just fine. So I’ll just get a drink and be going.”

  He reached again for the wires.

  The doctor placed his own hand over TJ’s, again stopping him. This time the hand seemed far more grandfather than dictator. “Let’s talk first.”

  TJ just nodded or tried to.

  “I’m Doctor Sanbourne.” He held out the weathered hand, and reluctantly TJ shook it, though the ache of his hangover had made even his arms sluggish. He proceeded to listen through the introduction of the two other doctors, one dark and Indian, the other female and shy-looking. TJ dismissed them mentally and promptly forgot their names.

  Dr. Sanbourne pulled up a swivel stool and seated himself, while his lackeys just hung back and watched. “Do you remember the accident?”

  TJ blinked. Accident?

  He shook his head as a little memory filtered back. “I really just remember that there was one. A semi rear-ended me, right?” In his head he could see it, in the rearview mirror, orange and large . . . and getting larger by the second. But that was all that came through.

  The doctor nodded. “Luckily, you have good airbags. They saved your life and that of your passenger.”

  TJ didn’t take the prompt. Didn’t ask after whatever her name had been.

  Dr. Sanbourne continued. “Unfortunately, you were in a convertible and you didn’t have your seatbelt on.”

  TJ raised his eyebrows. Tell me something I don’t know, but he didn’t say it.

  “You suffered a crushing blow to the base of your neck. The C-6 vertebrae,” he pointed it out on his own spine, “was cracked.”

  TJ frowned and reached up to his own neck. He was shocked to find it encased in a hard collar. Well, that explained why his head wouldn’t turn. His brain cranked through the possibilities. He flexed his fingers in front of his face.

  “You’ve already had a surgery to put pins in to hold the pieces of bone together. The pins will remain for the rest of your life, but the collar will come off shortly, and the bone will heal.”

  The sound was dull and dry even in his own head, where he left it. Whoo hoo.

  “However,”

  Oh, shit.

  “There was damage to the nerves themselves. Nothing appears to be completely severed, but we can’t be sure. Your responses prior to surgery were lacking.”

  He found his voice, “What do you mean, lacking?”

  “You were missing basic reflexes in your legs. There was no response. We had hoped that after surgery, after we relieved whatever pressure the cracked bone was placing on the spinal cord, you would regain sensation. It doesn’t appear that you have.”

  What?

  He felt fine. TJ flexed his toes, looking just beyond the little table, but nothing happened.


  He flexed again. Nothing.

  It had to be the water table blocking his view.

  He gave it a good shove, sending it toppling. The two attendant doctors flinched. Sanbourne did nothing of the sort. He simply watched.

  TJ felt his ribcage constrict. He couldn’t breathe either. He couldn’t bend his knees or curl his toes. After a few tries he decided that it was his brain that was broken, even just thinking about moving his leg felt wrong.

  Sanbourne nodded. “Your brain works, son. It’s your legs that aren’t responding.”

  TJ pulled back, then realized that he must be having a perfectly normal response to finding out that your legs don’t work. Sanbourne wasn’t a mind reader. He was a doctor.

  And TJ was an invalid.

  JD’s words came back to haunt him, God didn’t spare you this time.

  His breathing increased rate while the room closed in on him. His hands clutched at the sheet clumsily, gathering fistfuls and squeezing without his usual strength. At least driving his fingernails into his palms would have offered some measure of relief, but it looked like that wouldn’t happen either.

  Sanbourne stood closer, getting his face into TJ’s. “Let’s do a few tests and see what the damage is. We’ll know how to proceed from there.”

  How to proceed?

  But the blunt statement worked. TJ managed to find air and bring it into his lungs. He nodded as well as he could in the collar.

  Dr. Sanbourne turned to his assistant who shook her shy head at him.

  No, what?

  But Sanbourne didn’t tell TJ.

  He did run his pen up the sole of TJ’s foot.

  At least it looked like he did. TJ saw the sheet pinch from the pressure. Saw the pen disappear behind his foot. But he didn’t feel anything. He thought for a moment that the doctor was playing a cruel trick, but then remembered that he hadn’t been able to make it move himself. He saw the doctor try again, and realized that he should have at least been able to feel the sheet pull and tug, because he could sure see that it was moving.