Tempting Rowan

by Micalea Smeltzer

  “L-look at me,” he stuttered.

  Unable to deny him his request, I did.

  We stared at each other, neither of us saying a word.

  “Come. Here.” He forced the words out, trying to scoot over to give me room in the bed.

  “No,” I grabbed his hand. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

  His eyes closed with tiredness and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed painfully. It tore me apart to see him hurt so badly. I felt so helpless. I had no idea what to do or say to make any of this better.

  “I’m an idiot,” he forced the words out.

  “Because you got shot? Yeah, you’re an idiot,” I made myself laugh to lighten the situation.

  “No,” he shook his head, wincing in pain, “for letting you go.”

  My breath caught and I didn’t know what to say.

  “I should’ve gone after you that day.” His forehead wrinkled with effort as he spoke.

  “Trent,” I pleaded, “don’t talk. Please, don’t strain yourself.”

  “I need to say this,” he continued, his light blue eyes connecting with mine. They seemed so alert and alive—not like he was fighting for his life. He stared up at me and I couldn’t help but feel like he was making some deathbed confession. “I love you, Rowan,” he wet his lips. “I’ve tried so hard to hate you, but I can’t. I fucking can’t. Every time I close my eyes I see you,” his hand gave mine a light squeeze, and it didn’t escape me how weak his grasp was. “I see our son. I see the life we could have together. You’re it for me, Row. I know we have a shit ton of problems to work out, but that’s okay. We’re a family.”

  “Trenton,” I shook my head, tears pooling in my eyes, “you don’t mean that. It’s only the drugs talking.” I knew he had to be on some major painkillers and they’d clearly made him loopy.

  “It’s not—” he winced in pain. “It’s not the drugs. I was coming to see you tonight, but um,” he looked down at his chest and the bandage winking at us. “I kinda got shot.”

  Only Trenton could crack jokes after a gunshot wound.

  “Are you sure?” I whispered, daring to hope that he loved me enough that we could move past this, and letting myself believe he was going to be fine.

  He nodded. “I’ve loved you since I was sixteen and nothing can ever make me stop. Once you stole my heart, it belonged to you and only you.”

  “You’re such a cheese ball,” I cracked a smile—a genuine one as I remembered saying something similar to him months ago.

  “That’s me, I like cheese,” he joked, smiling half-heartedly. “Now,” he started sliding over, “since I got shot protecting your honor and all, I think you owe me.”

  “I’m not having sex with you in a hospital,” I gasped, appalled that he’d suggest such a thing after everything he’d been through. “Especially after you just had surgery! You’re not in the clear yet, Trent,” my voice cracked painfully.

  He rolled his eyes at me. “Who said anything about sex, Row? I’m tired, but I don’t want you to go. Lay with me, please,” he begged, and when he looked at me like that I was unable to resist the temptation.

  I climbed into bed beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. I kept waiting for one of the nurses to bust in here and make me leave, but no one came.

  He reached over, wincing with the effort, and placed his hand on my stomach. I was about to ask him what he was doing when those pretty baby blues lifted to meet my gaze. “I should have been there for you. I should’ve been able to see my child grow inside you and take care of both of you.” A sadness lingered in his eyes at what he had missed out on.

  “I know,” I squeaked.

  “I understand why you did it,” his eyes never wavered from mine, “and I’m ready to forgive you. I’m ready to move past this.”

  I nodded. I wanted nothing more than that, but I was afraid tomorrow might never come for us. He was lying here dying. I knew he was a fighter, though, so I had to believe he’d pull through this for me—for our family.

  “Why the hell did you go after my step-dad, Trent?” I questioned, staring up at the crinkled white ceiling. Everything in here was white and sterile.

  Trent coughed, his breath wheezing with effort. “I-I saw him touch you,” he admitted, slowly turning his head to look at me. I felt his eyes on me, but I couldn’t seem to stop looking at the ceiling. “He’s a fucking p-piece of shit and I wasn’t going to l-let him get away with that,” his words ended with another strangled cough.

  I made myself look at him then, my brow furrowing with worry. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded, his hand over his mouth as he stifled the cough.

  “Do you know what happened to my step-dad?” I asked softly, reaching over to stroke his cheek. His eyes closed in response and he made a pleased humming noise in the back of his throat. “Did the police get him? He’s not on the loose is he?”

  “After he shot me he took off running and that’s the last thing I remember,” Trent said sleepily. “Don’t worry, though. Trace will take care of everything.”

  “Yeah,” I yawned, feeling sleepy too as the days events caught up with me, “he’s good like that.”

  “Should I be worried you’re falling for my brother?” Trent’s lips brushed against my forehead. “You know he’s married.”

  I laughed. “No,” I kissed his cheek, “there’s only one Wentworth brother for me and he’s right here.”

  “Good,” Trent murmured. “I love you.”

  “I love you, Trent,” I whispered, kissing his jaw. “Thank you for teaching me that love isn’t a myth. It’s real and we have it.”

  

  I was awakened by a shrill noise. It pierced my eardrums, making me flinch. What the heck was that?

  I sat up, blinking sleep from my eyes as the bland hospital room came into view.

  The doors to the room burst open and someone pulled me from the bed.

  “He’s flat lining!” Was all I heard as doctors and nurses bustled about in a flurry of activity.

  I stared in horror at the lifeless body lying in the bed.

  My hand came up to cover my mouth as sobs raked my body.

  “Trent!” I screamed as a nurse tried to pull me out of the room. “Trent!” I screamed his name over and over again—at least it felt like it. “Come back to me! Trenton! Please! You can’t leave me! Trent!”

  But the line stayed flat.

  The nurse shoved me out the door and slammed it in my face.

  I pounded on the small glass window in the door, which was covered in black paper so that no one could see in. I continued to shout his name until I lost my voice and felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  Eventually I left, unable to stay there and continue to hear the high-pitched shriek of his heart not beating.

  I didn’t quite make it back to the waiting room. I guess my feet decided to stop working. I sunk to the ground, my back against the wall. My wails filled the halls. I didn’t care who heard me or who saw me. I couldn’t stop them. I needed to let it all out. I couldn’t keep this pain bottled inside me as I was tormented with one thought…

  Everyone leaves me.

  I pulled at my hair, kicking my feet against the floor.

  My cries began to draw attention.

  I saw Trace come out of the waiting room to investigate the noise, and when his eyes landed on me his mouth fell open in horror.

  I shook my head, my throat clogged with tears, to tell him that Trent hadn’t made it.

  Tears streamed from his eyes as he shoved his fingers through his hair, making it stick up wildly around his head.

  He looked back at the waiting room and then at me.

  I watched as he walked a little ways down that hall from me. He reared his hand back and it shot forward, punching the wall repeatedly. His anger and sadness was palpable. A male nurse came running towards him and restrained Trace so he couldn’t do any more damage to his hand. They led him away—no doubt to clean it up, and maybe
even stitch the wound closed.

  It made me think of the injury to my hand on New Year’s Eve—when Trent had so tenderly taken care of me. It had been our last night together. It was sweet and perfect and over far too soon. Here we were four months later. He’d found out the truth and now he was dead.

  Fuck.

  Dead.

  He was gone.

  Like, really gone.

  As in never coming back gone.

  My heart hurt and my soul felt incomplete.

  How on Earth could I be expected to live the rest of my life without him?

  I’d have to.

  I was going to have to take every day one step at a time. I’d live and love that much harder, because Trenton couldn’t.

  He’d always live on in our son.

  And in my heart.

  epilogue

  three months later…

  The warm summer breeze tickled my face and I couldn’t help smiling as I closed my eyes, lying back in the tall grass. It scratched my skin, making me itch, but the sun felt so good on my body that I refused to move. I felt so peaceful—something that had been rare in the past few months.

  I reached out, smiling as I pulled a dandelion from the dirt.

  “Row!” Ivy yelled and I sat up to see her running towards me. She crashed into my arms and then fell to the ground giggling.

  “What are you doing, silly girl?” I asked her. “Where’s Tristan?”

  “He’s fine,” she shrugged, looking around. “I like it here. It’s pretty.”

  “Mhmm,” I hummed. “It’s like a little oasis.”

  As if she didn’t hear me, she smiled widely, pointing to the flowers surrounding us. “Can you make me one of those braided crown thingies with flowers?”

  “I’ll try,” I grinned, picking the flowers surrounding us. “It’s been a long time since I’ve made one of these.”

  Ivy sat down beside me, crossing her legs as she watched my movements. I finished the crown and laid it delicately on top her head. “Now, you’re a real princess, Ivy,” I ran my fingers through her long wavy hair.

  She beamed at my words. Since my mom died, Ivy had really come out of her shell. She was always so happy and smiling. She thrived on words of praise and I tried to give them to her as often as I could.

  “Now, you need one, Row,” she stood, skipping around to gather more flowers. “Then you can be a Queen!”

  I laughed, adjusting the skirt of my dress.

  Once she’d gathered enough flowers she sat down once more. “Can I help make this one?” She asked.

  “Of course,” I carefully showed her how to braid the stems together. In no time she had it mastered and I let her finish it.

  When it was done, she placed it on my head in the same manner I had done hers. “All hail Queen Rowan!” She squealed, jumping up and running in circles around me.

  I laughed, turning my head to watch her run.

  I marveled at how much a few months of not being in a toxic environment had changed her. She wasn’t as timid and shy anymore. She was blossoming, and so was I.

  For the first time in all my life I finally felt like…me.

  I was no longer a ghost, drifting through the shadows.

  Trent had given me that gift, and I was thankful for it every day.

  I’d done a lot of growing since New Year’s when Trent found out about Tristan. With the loss of my mom, it had been easy for me to become the person I was always meant to be. She couldn’t harass me anymore, and Jim was serving life in prison for what he’d done to Trent.

  Life wasn’t perfect for me, not by a long shot, but it was getting there.

  Ivy skipped through the field, picking wildflowers and arranging them into two bouquets. When she deemed them perfect, she returned to my side, handing me one. “For you, my Queen,” she giggled, her cheeks rosy with happiness.

  “Thank you, Princess,” I took the flowers from her, inhaling their scent—then trying not to sneeze.

  She twirled some more, her dress fanning out around her legs.

  “Oh, look!” She pointed towards the back of the Wentworth mansion. “Here comes the King and Prince now!”

  I smiled, enjoying her little game. All I had wanted for so long was for her and Tristan to have the opportunity to be children. I’d finally gotten my wish.

  “Mommy!” Tristan cried, running straight for me, much like Ivy had when she’d found me hiding out back here.

  I liked the shade and privacy that the tall grasses provided. When I was here, in this spot, I felt like I was in a new place all together. There was something magical about this place. Once the weather had warmed I’d claimed this area as mine since I had been spending so much time with the Wentworth’s. Lily and I had grown close, and she was beginning to feel like the mother I never had.

  Tristan collapsed onto the ground beside me, his chest heaving with every labored breath from his long run.

  “What’s that you’ve got there?” I pointed to the leather bound book in his small hand.

  “Daddy told me to give it to you,” he smiled proudly, holding out the book for me.

  My eyes raised, connecting with Trent’s as he approached. God, he was beautiful. He wore a pair of long tan colored pants, and a white t-shirt. He grinned as he caught me staring at him. I stared at him a lot. I had almost lost him that day in the hospital. I always had to remind myself that he was here and he was alive.

  Trent reached us and sat down beside me. He draped an arm over my shoulder, kissing my cheek.

  I took the book from Tristan’s outstretched hand.

  Ivy reached for him, and the two took off running through the field, their laughter dancing through the air.

  “Open it,” Trent murmured, his lips grazing my ear.

  I shivered at his touch, my body humming.

  I opened the book to the marked page, a breath escaping my lips.

  The emerald green ribbon that had been used as a bookmark had a ring tied around it, and written on the page in Trenton’s scrawling handwriting was:

  Will you marry me?

  “Trent,” I gasped, my hand flying up to cover my lips. I was shocked, to say the least, but I should have seen this coming.

  After Trenton was released from the hospital, we had talked through things, and pieced ourselves back together. It hadn’t taken long for us to become a family. Trent and I already loved each other—and after countless hours of talking, of me telling him everything I’d been through since I was a child, we’d been able to move past what I had done by keeping Tristan a secret. Things had settled into normalcy for us the past few months and it felt like we’d always been a family, not like this was anything new. Trent showered Tristan and Ivy with love and a father’s affection, even though Ivy wasn’t his. He was the greatest man there ever was, I was sure of that.

  After he’d been shot, things had been touch and go for a few weeks, but he’d healed. He’d had to drop out of college since he wasn’t fit to go back. He said that he didn’t need his degree; he had enough schooling to open his own photography studio and go from there.

  “Rowan,” his voice was hesitant. “Say something, please.”

  “Yes,” I gasped, my cheeks flushed with happiness. “Yes, yes, yes!”

  I let the book fall off my lap, and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. His tongue found the seam of my lips, slipping inside. I moaned in pleasure as my fingers grasped the soft strands of his hair.

  “Ew!” Tristan exclaimed. “That’s disgusting! Bleh,” he made a face, “kissing is gross!”

  With a laugh, Trent pulled away, swiping his thumb over his lips.

  He reached down, untying the diamond engagement ring from the ribbon. I held my hand out for him and he slipped the ring on.

  His eyes filled with satisfaction as he stared at the ring glimmering on my finger.

  His fingers tangled into my hair, cupping the back of my neck as he pulled my lips to his, kissing me sweetly.<
br />
  Breathing rapidly, he rested his forehead against mine as he stared straight into my eyes so that I was powerless to look away.

  “You’re mine now, Rowan Sinclair,” his voice was husky and his eyes sparkled with mischief.

  I brought my hand up against his where he cupped my cheek. “Always.”

  THE END

  COMING SUMMER 2014 from Micalea Smeltzer

  Beauty in the Ashes

  Some stories are a fairytale...but this isn’t one.

  Caelan Gregory’s life fell apart the night he went home and opened the door to find his whole family murdered. Since then, his life has held no meaning. He’s angry. He’s bitter. He’s barely human anymore. There’s nothing left to remind him of the straight A student and football quarterback he once was…but he wasn’t a good person then, and he’s certainly not a good person now.

  When Sutton Hale moves into the apartment across the hall from Caelan she’s not prepared for her reaction to him. Something in his broken blue eyes calls to her—after all she’s always had an irrational need to fix everything.

  But Caelan doesn’t do relationships or feelings. He does drugs and alcohol. However, he can’t ignore his desire to get to know the raven-haired woman across the hall.

  Two broken souls trying to mend one another.

  But not everything can be fixed.

  In the end, Caelan and Sutton will have to learn that there is beauty in the ashes.

  COMING FALL 2014

  SAVING TATUM (Jude & Tatum’s book)

  Acknowledgements

  Wow, I have so many people to thank with this book. I really hope I don’t forget anyone. That would be embarrassing.

  First, I have to thank my entire family for being there and supporting my dream. I’m glad you guys don’t think I’m a crazy person for writing stories.

  A BIG thanks to my BAFFs Harper James and Regina Bartley. Your support means the world to me. I don’t know what I did before I had you. You keep me sane and I’m so happy that I can go to you when I’m struggling with my plot. Our random chats also help to keep me from working myself to death. Thanks for dealing with my crazy.