Healing Touch

by Brenda Rothert

Joss

  I was smiling before I even opened my eyes. The smell of Carson on my sheets had that effect. We’d both worked third shift last night and then come to my place to sleep. Well, we slept after epic sex, followed by omelets from a nearby diner.

  I wished he was still in bed next to me, but I’d heard him get up and leave a couple of hours ago. He just didn’t need as much sleep as me. Five hours seemed to be his max.

  I was pretty sure I didn’t have a max, but my minimum was seven hours. I always had to be prepared for my next shift at the hospital to run over.

  After a quick shower, I dried my hair and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. When I walked into my kitchen to brew coffee, I smiled when I saw that Carson had already put in a filter and grounds for me. I pushed the brew button and went to unload the clean dishes from my dishwasher.

  He’d already done that, too. The man was so incredibly nice to have around. He was sexy as hell and amazing in bed, but he was also considerate in ways I’d never known in a man. Even after just a couple of weeks, I was attached.

  I wondered where he was. He’d been restless this morning when we’d gone to sleep. Lots of tossing and turning was his usual, though. I suspected he was plagued by bad dreams, but I didn’t want to bring it up. He’d tell me if he wanted me to know.

  Hopefully, he was at the gym, which always seemed to clear his head. I’d gone with him a couple of times, but my workout game was . . . not strong. He’d patiently taught me how to lift light weights and skipped his own workout to oversee mine. And even the light weights were damn heavy and left me sore for days.

  I preferred to get my exercise from walking. I picked up my cell phone and texted Hattie to see if she could meet me at a café a couple of miles from my place. It was a gorgeous, sunny day and I was in the mood to walk somewhere.

  She wrote right back and said sure, so I put on my walking shoes and sunglasses and set off.

  My New Orleans neighborhood was an older one, and I absolutely loved the huge trees and brick sidewalks here. I checked out the homes with the architecture I loved, which I did every time I passed them. The older the home, the better its stories. I kind of loved that those stories would never be something I could know. I could only speculate about the people who’d lived and loved in these centuries-old houses.

  Hattie was waiting at an outdoor table when I got to the café, a mimosa in her hand.

  “Mornin’, darlin’,” she said with a wide smile. She’d also worked third last night, so this was her morning, too.

  “Morning.”

  “Why aren’t you at home in bed with your man?”

  I shrugged. “I was, but he left.”

  “How’s it going with you guys?”

  “It’s good. He wants me to meet one of his friends this weekend.”

  “If that friend is hot, male, and single, you let me know,” Hattie said with a grin.

  “You know I will.”

  She tipped back her mimosa and finished it. “After that delivery last night, I think I’m gonna need a couple more of these.”

  Hattie had delivered a set of twins last night, and the laboring mother had screamed at her through her entire labor. She held Hattie responsible for the pain and her long labor. From what I heard coming out of the room, the woman was just a mean bitch. She’d called her husband every name in the book. We’d all been snickering from the nurse’s station as she barked at him to keep his “dirty wiener” out of her forever.

  “It’s your day off; I say indulge,” I said to my friend.

  “Oh, I’m indulging. I’m ordering beignets.”

  “Mmm, I want some, too.”

  “Go for it, girl.”

  Our waiter came, and we ordered. My phone buzzed with a text, and I picked it up from the table.

  Carson: Can I cook you dinner tonight?

  I smiled at Hattie. “Carson is asking if he can cook me dinner.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You are so damn lucky. That man has got it going on.”

  “He does.”

  I wrote him back.

  Me: I’d love that. Can I make dessert?

  Carson: You are the dessert, gorgeous.

  My cheeks warmed as I read his message. I’d never felt sexier than I did with Carson. He swore I was the hottest woman he’d ever seen.

  “I like seeing you so happy,” Hattie said.

  “I just hope he’s happy,” I said softly.

  “Of course he is; don’t be like that.” She furrowed her brow at me.

  “No, I don’t mean because of me . . . I mean because sometimes he just seems uncomfortable. Like he doesn’t know what to say or do. I know he thinks he’s a failure at relationships, but he’s not a failure in my eyes. And he has bad dreams.”

  “Oh.” Hattie took off her huge black sunglasses with round lenses. “You think it’s PTSD from the military?”

  “I don’t know. I hate to assume, but . . . he has told me it’s still hard acclimating to life back home sometimes.”

  “Does he talk to you about the dreams?”

  I shook my head. “Not at all. I don’t think he even knows I know. But he tosses and turns and wakes up sweating. And he only sleeps the bare minimum. After that he gets up and starts doing stuff. He’s no good at sitting still.”

  “You thought about asking him about it?”

  I shrugged. “You think I should?”

  “I think every relationship I’ve ever had where we didn’t talk about everything has been a huge failure.”

  I arched my brows with amusement. “True. If Dean had told me he was banging Nips, that line of communication might have saved our marriage.”

  Hattie’s laugh ended in a snort. “Nurse Nipples did you a huge favor taking that douchebag off your hands.”

  “Believe me, I silently thank her every day. Especially when I’m with Carson. I can’t imagine still being with Dean and never having Carson in my life.”

  “So if you’re feeling this way . . . talk to him. Let him know how much you care.”

  The waiter arrived with my sweet tea and a platter full of food, and we stopped talking to eat. I thought about what Hattie said, though.

  She was right. I needed to let Carson know I wasn’t just in this for the good times. Above all else, I wanted to be someone he can turn to and count on. I’d bring it up tonight over dinner.

  Before dessert. Because once we got there, talking was always the last thing on my mind.

  Carson

  Dinner was nearly ready. I quartered a lemon and put the slices in a bowl so Joss could add some to the spicy seafood pasta I’d made.

  I looked forward to knowing whether she liked lemon juice on her seafood. The little things I’d discovered about her in the couple of weeks I’d known her meant the most to me. She loved short, hot showers and Lucky Charms cereal. She wanted to run a 10K someday. Her favorite band was the Goo Goo Dolls.

  For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how her ex had let her go. What a dumb fuck. I’d run into him early one morning at the hospital, and he’d looked me over from head to toe, obviously assessing the guy Joss was seeing now.

  His loss. Joss was my girl now. Being with her was hard for me at times because I didn’t want to fuck it up. But so far, she seemed as happy as I was.

  There was a knock at my door, and I dried my hands off on the way to answer it. Joss waited on the other side, a smile lighting up her face. Her gorgeous blonde hair was down around her shoulders.

  “Hey,” she said softly.

  “Hey.” I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against me, kissing her soft pink lips until I’d forgotten all about dinner.

  “Mmm.” She wrapped her arms around my neck. “You smell like lemons and garlic.”

  “We could go take a shower if you want. Dinner will keep.”

  She pulled back a little and met my gaze. “Let’s do that after dinner. I want to talk first, while we’re eating.”

  “Talk, huh?” I tried to keep
my tone light. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” Joss drew one of my hands to her lips and kissed my knuckles. “Everything’s great.”

  I led the way into my small kitchen and poured her a glass of white wine. For myself, I popped the top off a bottle of beer. Once we were sitting at the table dishing up pasta, Joss finally told me what was on her mind.

  “Do you not like sleeping over at my place?”

  I furrowed my brow. “You think I want us to stay here sometimes? It doesn’t matter to me whose place we stay at.”

  She took a sip of her wine before continuing. “It’s just . . . you always get up and go so early. And you sleep so little. If you don’t sleep well at my place, you can tell me.”

  “I don’t sleep any more here than I do with you. And it’s hard for me to sit around once I’m up. I need to go work out or eat.”

  I looked down at my plate as a few seconds of silence passed.

  “You don’t like talking about this with me,” Joss said softly.

  I glanced up and met her eyes. “It’s not you; it’s me.”

  “Have you always had trouble sleeping?”

  “No.”

  Silence took over again, and I tried to think of the right thing to say. It was a hard thing to describe to someone who’d never served overseas. I was always on guard now. Always ready. My subconscious didn’t care whether or not there was danger present.

  “I’m here, okay?” She reached across the table and took my hand. “To talk or not talk. Even in the middle of the night. And if we’re moving too fast for you—”

  “We’re not. You’re the calm in the storm, Joss.”

  She set down her fork and stood up, breaking into a smile. When she walked over to my side of the table and put her hands on my cheeks, I looked up at her and rested my hands on her hips.

  “You make me feel so good,” she said softly. “Every day with all the little things you say and do, you make me feel special and beautiful. I’ve never felt this way before.”

  My cock responded to her closeness, stiffening hopefully. “I haven’t, either,” I admitted. “And I hate the demons chasing me that much more now because I just want to focus on this . . . on us, instead of shit from my past.”

  “You’re looking very focused right now,” she said, leaning closer to me.

  My face was practically buried in her tits. I slid my hands around to her ass and gripped it, making her moan softly.

  “I think it’s time for that shower,” I said, standing.

  Joss grabbed two fistfuls of my shirt and pulled me close, kissing me. I loved this side of her. When she made a move on me, it was hard to keep from creaming in my jeans like a teenager.

  I bent a little and picked her up. She wound her legs around me, and I headed for my bathroom. On the way there, she tugged at the back of my shirt, pulling it off over my head. When she threw it, she banged her arm against the bookcase in my living room.

  “Shit. Ow,” she muttered.

  “You okay?” I grinned at her.

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Sorry. Buzzkill.”

  “My buzz is still going strong.” I squeezed her hips to press her against my bulge.

  “Oh.” It was half word and half sigh.

  I was on fire for her when I set her down in the bathroom and turned on the shower. I stripped off her clothes one item at a time as steam filled the room. Her skin was already dewy with sweat by the time I took off my jeans and stepped into the shower behind her.

  “Nice and easy or hard and fast?” I asked as I nuzzled my lips against her neck.

  “You know what I like,” she said, her breath warm against my skin.

  From day one, my girl had been all about gratification. Another thing I loved about her. I put my hands behind her water-slicked thighs and picked her up, settling her onto my cock until I was buried inside her.

  “Carson.” Her expression was twisted with pleasure as I thrust my hips up against her while bouncing her up and down my shaft.

  Her tight pussy and soft, curvy body were my new heaven. There were no demons in these moments—just me and Joss chasing the most amazing high I’d ever known.

  Hot water pounded against my back as I picked up the pace, breathing hard and working myself in and out of Joss so hard the slapping of our bodies sounded over the shower stream.

  “Oh God,” she cried. “So . . . close. Carson, I’m so close.”

  Her cheeks were pink, and a bead of sweat trickled down her temple. I covered her mouth with mine in a long, hard kiss. She came undone with a loud moan of pleasure. I was right behind her, groaning long and deep with my final powerful thrust into her.

  I eased her feet down to the shower floor. While I caught my breath, she shampooed my hair and lathered my body, her soft fingers dipping around every ridge of muscle.

  When she was finished, I washed her. The tenderness I felt when I washed her long hair and massaged suds over her soft, perfect skin was like nothing I’d ever known. I loved it. I loved her.

  It didn’t matter that it had only been a couple of weeks. I’d fallen hard for Joss. I wanted to become the man she needed, who could hold her through the night without being woken by nightmares or having to escape the confined space of the bedroom before sunrise.

  For her, I’d face the demons. I’d battle them. I’d try counseling if I had to. Talking about my time in the military was painful, but for her, I’d push through. To hold on to this woman, I’d try just about anything.

  Chapter Ten

  Joss

  I loved working the same nights as Carson. Even if I was busy all night with patients, I liked knowing he was somewhere in the hospital, repairing broken things in his quiet way.

  Tonight I’d been able to get away for a break with him. We were sitting in the cafeteria, a cup of coffee in front of him and a cup of hot tea in front of me.

  I polished off the last of a peanut butter cookie and furrowed my brow as Carson’s lips quirked up in a smile.

  “What?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “I like watching you eat sweet stuff. You get an O face.”

  “I do not.” I spoke defensively but smiled anyway.

  “It’s cute. Sometimes you even moan a little.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I do not moan.”

  “When we had that chocolate lava cake the other day, you did.”

  My cheeks warmed. “I may have. That was damn good cake.”

  “I’m all for anything that makes you moan.”

  I smirked at him. “Don’t I know it.”

  He looked at the big silver watch on his wrist. “I need to get back.”

  “Okay.”

  He met my eyes with a warm look and took my hand across the table, squeezing it. We were careful about public displays of affection at work.

  “Breakfast at my place?” I asked. “Unless I have to work over. I have a patient in early labor.”

  He released my hand, finished the last of his coffee, and stood up. “Okay. I’ll wait for you if you have to work late.”

  I watched him walk away, smiling at the lines of his shoulders and arms in his gray maintenance uniform.

  “So you’re seeing one of the maintenance guys?”

  I looked over to see Dean’s girlfriend, Amanda, looking down at me. She stood next to my cafeteria table with her arms folded and brows arched.

  “It’s Carson, and yeah.” I stood up, eager to leave before she spoke again.

  “So that means you’re over Dean, then?”

  I wanted to roll my eyes so badly. But I reminded myself that Amanda was pregnant and likely hormonal. She’d been Dean’s other woman when we were married and he cheated on me. How could a woman ever feel secure with a man who would do that?

  “I’ve been over him for a long time,” I said, meeting her eyes so she could see my sincerity.

  “I didn’t get pregnant on purpose,” she blurted, looking surprised by her own words. “I know everyone thinks I did. Like
I could never hold on to a man like him without trapping him.”

  “Don’t worry about what anyone else thinks. Life’s too short.”

  She looked down at the floor. “You must hate me for stealing him.”

  “No. I don’t hate you, and I don’t think you stole him. It wasn’t meant to work out between us. I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

  Amanda looked back up at me, a crease of confusion between her brows. “You’re happy with a maintenance man when you used to have a doctor?”

  I’d tried. I really had. But I wouldn’t stand here and let her talk about Carson that way.

  “I’m deliriously happy,” I said. “Carson is kind and strong and sweet. I wouldn’t care if he swept the floors here, but he doesn’t. He’s smart, and he has a mind for fixing things that are broken. Complicated things like electronics. I could never do that. He’s a combat veteran. He’s brave and loyal, and he’s the most amazing man I’ve ever known.”

  “Hasn’t it only been like a couple weeks?”

  I shrugged. “Look, I’m happy, and I hope you guys are, too. Let’s leave it at that.”

  When I turned to leave, Amanda put a hand on my forearm. “Was Dean ever distant with you?”

  It was all I could do not to laugh and say, What, you mean when he was screwing you behind my back and I had no idea?

  “I’m definitely not the person to ask for advice about Dean,” I said instead.

  “Well, I don’t know who else to ask.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “He said he was excited about the baby, but he’s not acting like it.”

  I couldn’t help feeling a little sorry for her as I looked down at the tiny swell of her stomach. “Maybe he needs time to process it.”

  “It’s been more than a month.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  And I was. Now that a baby was part of the equation, I didn’t want Amanda left to fend for herself.

  She sighed deeply and dropped her hand from my arm. “I was thinking maybe Dean was trying to get back with you. That’s why I asked about the maintenance guy.”

  “Carson.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “Carson.”

  “Definitely not. I haven’t seen him or spoken to him in a long time.”