I dry my tears and close the space between us, wrapping my hands around his neck, and bringing us nose to nose as my laughter slowly subsides. “Christina Harcourt. Nice to meet you.”
“CJ Whitford. The pleasure is all …” He doesn’t get to the last word as my mouth hits his.
I pull away a fraction, my nose alongside his. “We’re going to be racking up quite the frequent flyer miles, aren’t we?”
“Don’t worry, beauty. It may take a little extra work, but I’ll make it worth the effort. We will make this happen.”
After dinner, we take a walk around the neighborhood surrounding the hospital. Our conversation is so light and casual; it’s easy to forget how little we really know each other. But the words just flow. We talk about random things, from favorite foods and movies to favorite places we’ve traveled. However, he’s still stuck on the fact that I’ve never seen an episode of The Walking Dead or The Big Bang Theory.
“So, you don’t even know who Sheldon is?” We’re walking hand-in-hand, his thumb occasionally running over the top of my hand.
My free hand raises, palm up, in question. “Who, seriously, is named ‘Sheldon’? Is he a ninety-year-old man? With a wife named Eunice?”
Shaking his head in false incredulity, he says, “Wow, do I have my work cut out for me?”
I turn and jokingly slap his arm when he stops and pulls me up against him, chest to chest. Still holding onto my hand, he wraps the other around my back and draws me in for a kiss.
But a nagging thought races through my mind, causing me to raise my hand to his chest and break our contact. “CJ, how is this really going to work? I’ve never dated anyone who lives on the opposite side of the country before.” I pause in thought, trying to answer my own question.
“I stay with Eric when I’m in town. Maybe …” He pushes my hair over my shoulder, looking hopeful. “Maybe you stay there with me?”
My head jerks back in surprise. “You want to stay together? Like together together?”
A heated, playful look sparkles in his eyes. “Yes, Christina. Definitely ‘together together.’” Oh. My body melts into his as a new thought takes over.
“You don’t think that’ll be awkward? Staying at Eric’s place and having him around? What if we stayed at Becca’s apartment instead? It’s huge. She’ll barely know we’re there.”
“Hell, no. Sorry, Christina.” He shakes his head firmly. “I know she’s your friend and all, but no way. Do you know how many times she’s called Eric?”
My head bobs back in surprise. “Seriously?”
“Oh yeah, he’s had it. He finally answered and told her he wasn’t interested. Do women really think they have a chance with a guy after they throw up on him?” I shrug my shoulders, wondering why she’s never mentioned any of this to me.
“Then why did he call and ask us to dinner?” He looks at me, silent, waiting for me to figure it out. “Ahh, okay, don’t mind me. I’m a flake.” I turn my face away in embarrassment.
He gently holds my chin in his hand and presses a warm kiss to my cheek. Whispering in my ear, he says, “You’re far from a flake. Got it?” I don’t answer or turn my head as I absorb his compliment.
“Christina?”
“Hmm?”
He lifts my chin and brings my eyes to his. “Please don’t put yourself down. You’re too good for that.”
“Okay.” It comes out on a whisper.
He gives me a pointed look before settling my apprehensions with a kiss.
“So, it’s decided. We’ll stay at Eric’s when I’m in town and work the rest out from there?”
“I think it’s worth a try.” I wrap my arms firmly around his waist. “But shouldn’t we ask Eric first?”
“Already done.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You had this planned all along. Didn’t you?” His victorious smirk is all the answer I need.
“Christina, my only plan was to make sure you said yes. Where we go from here is going to be a lot of fun to figure out.” He flashes me a flirtatious smile. “Besides, I don’t know how often I’m able to travel out here. But, I promise you that’s something I’ll be working on.”
I realize we’ve been walking and talking for so long that I’ve lost track of the time. I texted Max earlier to let him know I was going out with a friend and would get a ride home, but I really just plan to call a car service. If Max knew the truth, he’d wait for me and miss seeing his girls today. And, worse, he’d have twenty questions for the person who kept me out late.
Sitting in the back of the car on the way to Eric’s, CJ’s holding my hand, running light, massaging circles with his thumb like he did the first night we met. Suddenly, he stops.
“Don’t. I like it.” With my eyes closed, I whisper into the darkness, “It’s calming. Hypnotic.” He doesn’t hesitate to begin again.
As we pull up to Eric’s apartment, I feel CJ turn to me. With my head resting back against the headrest, I turn and look up at him in the back of the quiet car. In the dim light, his cool blue eyes take on a dark, deep navy. “It’s late. You should just stay the night.” He raises his brows in question as he fights a sly smile from spreading across his face.
I give myself a second to study his features before I bump my shoulder with his and respond teasingly. “Nice try, but I don’t put out on the first date.”
He runs his hand up my arm. “I’m serious, Christina. It’s late, and you’ll be right back here first thing tomorrow morning.”
“As much sense as you’re making right now, there’s the small issue of make-up and wardrobe that I’m doubting Eric has on supply at his place.”
“Good point. If Eric’s got women’s make-up and clothes laying around, then I don’t know him nearly as well as I thought I did.” We both laugh lightly at the thought. “How about you just go in a little late?” I shake my head in response. “Call in sick?” This time I give him a shake and a giggle as I notice the driver impatiently tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“How about this?” I turn to him, placing my hand on his thigh. “Come by the hospital. Meet the kids. See what I do. Even just for an hour or two. Then we can grab lunch and go from there. How does that sound?”
His hand glides from my shoulder over to the back of my neck, instantly warming my body and sending those familiar sparks that fire and zap their way on an express route down to my toes. He kisses me firmly before pulling back and saying softly, “Tomorrow, beauty.” He kisses me once more before exiting the car then leans in to the front passenger window, instructing the driver to take good care of me as he hands him a small stack of bills. That’s something we need to address.
A moment later, I receive a text.
Tomorrow, pack a bag.
I don’t hesitate to respond.
Consider it done, handsome.
I gaze out at the dark street and allow a laugh to escape, causing the driver to cock an eyebrow at me in his rearview mirror. I laugh because CJ works in a factory. I laugh because he comes from an ordinary, blue-collar family. I laugh because he does not have a trust fund or an Ivy League education. But mostly I laugh because CJ is mine and mine alone, and they cannot destroy what they do not know exists.
My ears perk up as I step off the elevator to the sounds of giggling nurses and the smell of fresh coffee. Not that we don’t try to make this a happy place, but girlish giggles coming from grown women is not something I’m accustomed to hearing on the floor this early in the morning. Must be one of the new, cute doctors. But as I make my way toward the nurses’ station to see if he’s worth all the fuss, I hone in on a set of broad shoulders that look very familiar.
“Good morning, Christina.” CJ steps toward me as all of the nurses look to him dreamily. He’s wearing jeans and a royal blue polo that lights up his eyes, drawing my attention solely to this beautiful man. With a gentle hand to my hip, he gives me a kiss on the cheek that lasts just long enough to let his fan club know he’s taken.
I forget for a moment that we have an audience and gently brush the hair off his forehead and feel the freshly shaved skin of his jaw. His closeness, combined with the bright hospital lighting, allows me to see the faintest brown specks spattered amongst the blue of his eyes. How can anyone look this amazing in incandescent lighting?
A phone rings nearby, sadly snapping me back to reality. I take a small step away from him, although his hand remains on my hip. “Everyone, this is CJ. CJ, this is by far the most awesome team of nurses and child life specialists you’ll ever have the pleasure of meeting.”
I introduce him to everyone, even though I won’t blame him later if he can’t remember a single name. As I lead him toward my office, Anna looks at me with wide eyes, letting me know she’s not going to leave me alone until she gets all the details.
CJ enters first, and I shut the door behind us. “I wasn’t expecting you until …” but my words are cut off when his mouth meets mine. He steps forward, pushing my backside against the wall, never breaking the kiss. His hands, firmly at my hips, start to travel back over the fabric of my fitted skirt and give a squeeze. I dig my fingers into his hair and tug in response, taking the kiss deeper. My mind swirls. My heart skips. My fears melt.
He breaks the kiss and asks, “Jesus, can we say hello like this every time?”
We’re mouth to mouth, breathing heavily. I rest my head against the wall and give him a drunken smile. “Definitely.”
After a quick phone call and a few emails, I’m excited to show CJ around the floor. “When this wing was built a few years back, our main priority was for the kids to never think of this as a scary place, so we continually update our services to help them cope with the challenges of being in a hospital.” I’ve given this tour so many times, I have to remind myself I’m giving it to CJ and not a new family to our floor.
I lead him to the first door, holding it open and allowing him to enter first. “This is our ‘Vet Clinic.’ Our patients can play doctor to everything from stuffed dogs to dinosaurs. They not only get the chance to be the caregiver for a change, but it also gives our child life specialists the opportunity to observe and get a better understanding as to how their illness is affecting their mental health.” With his hands in his pockets, he quietly takes a look around, noticing the two young girls in the corner discussing a surgery they’re getting ready to perform on an unsuspecting penguin. With a tilt of my head, I lead him out of this room, to the next two.
“Over here are our art and music rooms. Besides being a lot of fun these room are especially helpful in getting the kids talking about their feelings while they’re absorbed in a project.” Since the doors to each room are side-by-side, he steps in one to take a brief look, then the other. I stand patiently to the side, allowing him as much time as he’d like.
I lead him across the hall, where there’s a muffled sound coming from behind the closed door. “This next room is our most popular. Our gaming room.”
We barely get a few steps in when CJ asks no one in particular, “Is that Zombie Llamas Lasers of Warcraft?” Eyes locked on the screen, he steps farther inside.
“Yep.” This comes from the plush oversized chair in front of me, where I see thin, pale legs hanging over the side, and immediately know it’s Thomas.
“But this doesn’t come out for three months,” CJ says in astonishment, stepping next to the chair and taking in the young boy.
“Yep.”
“Can I play with you?” CJ steps forward, looking for a second remote control.
“Nope.” Thomas’s small feet sway.
CJ stops, confused. “No?” He looks to Thomas for confirmation.
“Not until my last laser gets absorbed by the Evil Pig of Purgatory, and that could be a while.”
“Well, can I watch then?” CJ looks from side-to-side for an available seat.
“Have at it.”
CJ grabs a foam cube that looks like a watermelon and takes a seat next to Thomas. “Can you take that rock path?” he asks, pointing to the oversized screen.
I step around, finally able to see Thomas. “No, it’ll set off the pineapple acid rain,” Thomas responds without ever taking his eyes off the game. They’re both mesmerized. I really want to introduce my favorite patient to my favorite guy, but I know Thomas is “in the zone,” and I know better than to interrupt “the zone.” I tap CJ on the shoulder and whisper to come to my office when he’s done. He gives me a quick smile and nod then faces back to the screen. I hear shouts of “Take the tunnel!” and “Fire! Fire!” coming from the both of them and shake my head as I walk out.
Before I know it, an hour has gone by, and CJ still hasn’t returned. As I step inside the gaming room, I hear Thomas. “It’s not your fault, dude. The only option you would’ve had to get away from the venomous bunnies was to build a rollercoaster that could carry you to the world of flatulent fairies. Venomous bunnies can’t survive around flatulent fairies.”
“Good to know. But Thomas, my man, I want a rematch. No fairy gets the best of me.”
“Deal.” Thomas puts a hand out to CJ, and just when I think he’s going to give him a high five, they break into some complicated slapping, shooting handshake concoction.
I cross my arms at my chest and fake a disapproving look. “I leave you here for an hour, and this is what happens?” CJ turns to me, looking sheepish.
Thomas kicks his legs over the arm of the chair. “Hey Christina, your boy here sucks at ZiLLoW, but I’ll bring him around. May take a while though.”
I’m not able to hold in my laugh as CJ brings a hand to his heart, feigning pain. “Hey, bud, was I really that bad?”
“Dude, you let one of the babies from the princess poodle patch steal your umbrella and your gumballs.” He shakes his head in disappointment. “That’s just embarrassing.”
“All right,” CJ says, “but next time we play as a team. Maybe then I’ll make it through the treacherous cavern of snot without drowning in a bog of glitter.”
“That might be pulling off a miracle, but never say die. That’s my motto.” We’re all laughing now, but I know CJ doesn’t get Thomas’s pun as well as he and I do. Thomas reaches for the controller and continues playing his game.
“What ever happened to Super Mario Brothers?” I naïvely ask as CJ and I leave the room. He’s still smiling as we make our way to my office. When he places his hand on my lower back, my body instantly warms and my shoulders relax. I could get used to this.
He speaks quietly as we step inside. “Thomas is a great kid, Christina. Really. But he looks like he could use some sun. Maybe I can take him outside the next time I visit?”
I shut my door and exhale deeply before I lay it out for him. “Oh, CJ. Thomas isn’t just sick. He’s in a fight for his life. And right now, with all of the chemo and drugs he has running through his system, the sun could react to his skin like a poison.” I go on to discuss the kind of cancer Thomas has and what treatments he’s receiving, trying not to sugarcoat any of it.
I’m sitting on the edge of my desk as I give CJ a chance to absorb all that I’ve told him. “I love that you’re already thinking of ways to spend time with Thomas, but you need to know the reality these kids live with every day.”
Slowly, I see a physical change in him as my words penetrate. Ever so slightly, his shoulders slump forward, his head bows and his face pinches in pain. He looks … devastated. I know that look well, and I know that feeling even more so.
“He’s a fighter. He’s not going anywhere anytime soon.” My tone is reassuring, but I say this more for me than for CJ because Thomas is not responding to his treatment plan the way the doctors were hoping he would by now. I make a mental note to call Alex James about their schedule. If Thomas’s time is running out, then I need to step it up and do what I do best.
CJ is looking around the room at all of the photos again, with an entirely new perspective from just a day ago. “These kids. Are these all kids you’ve lost?” he whispers.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
“Me? Hardly.” I shake my head softly as his arms envelop me.
“Yes, you. You could waste your days away doing selfish things like shopping and going to lunch, but you don’t. You come here. Every day. And you’re making a difference in these kids’ lives.”
I brush off his compliment. “I’m not a nurse or a doctor, CJ. Getting fancy TVs and art supplies hardly makes a difference.”
“Well, I met one rockstar kid today who thinks otherwise. Not to mention, he’s got a massive crush on you.” He looks at me knowingly.
“Thomas? He’s twelve. He’s too young for crushes.”
“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I’ve got some serious competition when it comes to that kid.”
“He’s pretty awesome, isn’t he?”
With a brilliant smile, he answers. “Definitely.”
After lunch, I offer to meet CJ later at Eric’s place, but he’s adamant about sticking around to help out, so I introduce him to the most mundane, but also one of the most important aspects of my job—managing donations. Sitting side-by-side on my couch, I show him how to log items we’ve received, while I write out thank you notes to our donors. Along with being helpful, CJ is pretty damn funny.
Beautiful Lies Page 7
