Beneath the Scars

by Cherise Sinclair

  Josie’s racing heart slowed.

  His steady gaze met hers, took in how she was bracing Anne, and his nod of approval warmed her through and through.

  “Push. Have to,” Anne gasped. She bore down with a high-pitched keening sound.

  “Won’t be any postponing this baby.” Holt motioned to Ben. “Come here, bro. Let’s get your baby birthed.”

  Anne gave another bit-off scream as Ben moved. When she stopped and gasped for breath, Josie reached around and took her hand. “I’ve got you,” she whispered. “Ben is here. You’re having the baby now—just hang in there.”

  Anne clutched her fingers, took another breath, and pushed again.

  Holt murmured quiet instructions to Ben. “No cord problems, we’re all good. Put your hands here.”

  As the sound of sirens filled the air, Ben let out a shout of joy. “Anne, we have a baby.”

  Anne sucked in air in deep gasps, her hand shaking in Josie’s. “Healthy?”

  “Let me have him, Ben.” Holt took the baby, drying and rubbing with a clean towel. A sputter sounded, then a heartwarming high cry. “Perfect,” Holt murmured. “Here, Dad, put your son to his mom’s breast—and cover them both up.”

  Josie slid off the bed and turned to help Anne lay flat.

  The look of love on Ben’s face as he sat beside Anne brought tears to Josie’s eyes. Blinking hard, she looked at Holt.

  He smiled, a dimple appearing, his eyes alight. “Best feeling in the world, isn’t it?”

  Oh, hell. She was falling for him. Right into that four-letter-L-word.

  * * * * *

  Two hours later, when Holt walked Josie to her door, she felt as if she’d been wrung out to dry. The remnants of adrenaline were long gone… and the joy remained. She’d helped a baby get born.

  Josie smiled up at Holt. “Anne is sure a stubborn person. I didn’t think she’d ever agree to go to the hospital.”

  Holt chuckled. “I can see her reasoning. Why bother when the baby’d already arrived?”

  Anne had finally agreed to go to the hospital, only because neither the pediatrician nor obstetrician made house calls—and Holt had said having a baby that quickly was hard on both participants and they should be checked.

  Josie shook her head, remembering her own labor. It had seemed to last forever, but at least, there’d been plenty of time to realize the baby she’d carried for nine months was on his way out. The actual birth and separation had been…a kind of grief. Anne, though, had been in too much pain and labor had gone too quickly for her to process the parting. “She looked shell-shocked.”

  “Yeah. Precipitous births are…unsettling. I’ve seen a couple. Both times, the women had given birth before—and they’d still looked as if they’d taken a header off a cliff.”

  “I think I prefer the slower way.”

  “Speaking from the paramedic’s point of view, so do I.” Holt leaned forward, pinning her against the door. “In case I didn’t tell you, you were wonderful.”

  She lifted her lips to his, feeling as if she was absorbing his strength, his control. He’d been so calm. Just hearing his smooth, resonant voice had been heartening. “I merely followed orders. Anne was awfully lucky you were there.”

  All your patients are damn lucky.

  He laughed. “I doubt she’ll even remember who attended her. But it was a hell of a party. I’m glad I got to share it with you.”

  “I…” Actually, she’d be happy to share anything with him. Everything. And that was something she mustn’t say. She breathed in his scent, longing to get closer, to have his mouth on her, his shaft inside her, to be—

  His gaze heated. He ran his hands up and down her arms and then lifted her chin. “Little subbie, I’d like to take you up on that invitation, but your son is probably over at Stella’s and watching for you.”

  She closed her eyes. What was she thinking? She needed to pull away from him, not…not extend unconscious invitations. “He is. I saw his bike over there.”

  “Then I’ll let you go. You need to eat and get ready for work.” He ran a finger down her cheek. “I won’t be at the Shadowlands tonight. However, tomorrow, I’d like to see you.”

  She eyed him. “Uh…let’s not make plans. I’m really busy, and I should spend time with Carson, and really, it was fun today, but…”

  Her excuses fled when his gaze darkened. His voice dropped to a warning rumble. “Josie…”

  Her mouth went dry.

  “Second thoughts are normal, pet, but don’t let your fears get in the way of something wonderful.” He kissed her lightly, strolled off the porch and across to his duplex.

  This wasn’t fair. It wasn’t. The one man she most wanted to be with—and most needed to be away from—lived next door.

  God truly was a male—and a sadist.

  * * * * *

  Anne couldn’t quite remember the afternoon. The events had all run together in a ghastly montage of pain-filled moments.

  She remembered the barbecue. That’d been fun. She’d taken a nap. Gotten up. Then pain, pain, and more pain. And although they said she’d had a baby, nothing felt real.

  Now she was here, spending the night in a damn hospital, by herself rather than with Ben snuggled around her. Had he left? Gone back to the house?

  She couldn’t remember. Everything was all mixed together. Ambulance. Baby. No baby. Ben. Forms and questions. Her OB guy had been in to see her, hadn’t he? Hell, this was worse than any blackout hangover—ever.

  And she hurt, like everywhere, as if someone had used a baseball bat on her belly and ribs and arms. And even her pussy. Oh, right, the OB guy had sewed her up…down there.

  Lovely, she had stitches in her hoo-hah. She rolled her eyes. There were masochists who enjoyed having needles poked through their labia. No fucking way. In fact, she’d never jammed needles into any of her boys’ packages. Good to know that she was entirely right.

  Well, time to see if she could move. She flipped the covers off and blinked. Whoa, look how flat her gut was now. No belly. She ran her hand over her stomach, feeling…empty. And lost. Tears prickled her eyes.

  No. No crying. Josie had warned her about hormonal up-and-down swings after the birth. For fuck’s sake, it’d been bad enough having them in the beginning of the pregnancy. More now? Didn’t seem fair.

  And hormones or not, she felt lonely and empty, and no one was here for the celebration, even if, dammit, she didn’t feel there was much to celebrate.

  She’d had a baby and felt…nothing.

  Blinking hard, she sat up and bit back a grunt of pain. Yeah, her abdominal muscles were strained like she’d done a year’s worth of sit-ups in an hour. That labor shit wasn’t for wussies. The chair beside the bed looked comfortable, though, and maybe she wouldn’t feel like a…sick person…if she was out of the damned bed.

  Moving like a…sick person…dammit, she shuffled the few steps to the chair and settled down despite the complaints from her stitched-up crotch.

  Yeah, this was better. But still lonely. She pulled in an unhappy breath, trying to get her wayward emotions to settle.

  And then the light from the open door dimmed as a huge man filled the space and walked in.

  Ben.

  “You’re up. Shouldn’t you be…” His heavy brows drew together. “What’s wrong, darlin’?”

  The concern in his voice was heartwarming. Strengthening. The lump in her chest, in her stomach, in her heart lightened as he walked over, a blanket balled up in one arm. He went down on one knee.

  She pressed her hand against his rough cheek, and a day’s worth of beard growth scratched her palm. “I’m all right. I just feel…” She shook her head. “Empty?”

  “Of course you do.” He smiled slowly. “Maybe this will help.” And he set the blanket in her lap.

  She looked down, startled that she actually had a lap now, and stilled as he pulled a fold of the blanket back.

  Oh. So tiny. Above a scrunched face, little
fists like pink walnuts waved at her. Her baby was a grumpy pixie with half-closed eyes and pursed lips.

  “Oh, Ben,” she whispered. She stared down. Ever so slowly, her heart filled, reached over-flowing, and expanded to the point of pain trying to accommodate the love. “We have a son.”

  Ben’s gaze met hers, his eyes shiny. “Yeah,” he said, his voice gruff. “We do.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was Sunday afternoon, Eagles vs the Giants. And halftime.

  As the teens and preteens raced out of Holt’s living room in search of provisions, he exchanged grins with the other two adults. Hell, if he’d known he’d be hosting a horde, he’d have stocked up. Duke and Wedge, the teens from across the street, sometimes came to games. Today, though, they’d brought along Carson and two of his buddies.

  Then, before the teens had even settled, Jake had shown up. Apparently, Rainie and some friends had commandeered the television to watch It’s a Wonderful Life. “They were starting to cry, bro. I had to get out of there.” Duke had shaken his head—“That sucks, man”—and handed over the bag of Doritos.

  The game had barely started when Vance arrived. Turned out his wife’s family from Iowa was visiting, and he and Galen had wanted Sally to have some alone time with them. Remembering Holt’s 65-inch, wide-angle television, the Fed had swung by to catch the game.

  Eight people had sure made a serious crowd in the tiny living room. At least he’d staked out his recliner before everyone’d arrived. Holt looked over at Jake on the couch and Vance in an armchair. “I think I need a bigger place.”

  Jake snorted. “I’ve been telling you that. There are a couple of places out by me.”

  “Country living isn’t for me. I like having neighbors.” Holt pointed to the house across the street—the one with the basketball hoop. “With teens around, I always have someone to shoot hoops with.” He wadded up a Dorito bag and tossed it into the corner wastebasket. Two points. “However, if I’d known I’d be entertaining so many of them, I’d have bought more food.”

  Vance glanced at the empty bags of junk food and grinned. “Teens are a black hole for snacks.”

  “No shit.”

  “They seem to be good kids though,” Vance said. “Did you say one of them is Josie’s?”

  “Yep. Carson. He’s one of the younger three—slim, light brown hair.”

  It was a shame Josie hadn’t shown up. Then again, yesterday, when he’d said goodbye, she’d looked as if she wanted to retreat again. Poor subbie. She really was torn. If she thought her doubts would make him back away, she was in for a surprise.

  Did she know her kid was at his house? Probably not, but if she didn’t find him, all she had to do was listen. Being prudent, Holt’d left the front door open. Any touchdown got rowdy cheers and fumbles garnered so many catcalls the entire neighborhood must know where the kids were.

  Jake laughed. “Carson might be smaller, but he ate as much as the rest of them did.”

  And, in fact, here the kid came, leading the other two through the door. Yukio lugged two six-packs of sodas, Brandon had a container of cookies, and Carson carried a huge tray of something that smelled amazing.

  “What’ve you got there, Carson?” Holt asked.

  “Chicken wings. Whenever Mom gets stuck on some plot thing, she cooks. Or if she’s upset or worried or pissed-off or whatever.” The kid’s laugh was that of a boy who knew he was loved no matter how annoyed his mother got.

  Holt noticed the other two Doms had the same smile he did. “I take it she’s cooking?”

  “Oh, boy, is she cooking.” Yukio shook his head. “She was, like, all pissed-off that the hero in her book wants to kiss the girl.”

  Vance blinked. “That’s bad?”

  “She doesn’t want any gaggy kissing or anything. Ugh.” Carson gave a nod of agreement.

  “She said if Tigre started any romance stuff, she’d geld him, even if he is the hero.” Yukio scowled. “Tigre should be allowed to kiss Laurent if he wants to.”

  “I agree,” Holt said. “Gotta say, Tigre better make his moves carefully, or he’ll get his package crisped.” Holt grinned at Jake and clarified. “Josie writes paranormal fiction, and the potential girlfriend has a pyrokinesis ability. She can manipulate fire.”

  Jake snorted. “Talk about a talent that’d give a firefighter fits.”

  “It really does.”

  Carson looked between Holt and Yukio. “You read Mom’s books?”

  “Sure, they’re really good.” Yukio grinned. “I read them even before I knew the author was your mom.”

  “I’ve got ’em all, too,” Holt said. “She writes a great story.” So much of her personality and beliefs—and humor—went into the stories, how could he not enjoy them?

  “I wish my mom would cook instead of throwing shit when she’s mad.” Brandon grabbed three more cookies and settled onto the floor. “Wish we’d had these cookies yesterday.”

  Carson didn’t say a word.

  Holt eyed Carson. “I hope Brandon’s mom was in a good mood yesterday. What’d you guys end up doing?”

  “Not much.” Carson’s shoulders hunched, and he turned away from Holt.

  Before Holt could say anything, Brandon spoke up, “Just video games…at my place. It was quiet.”

  The older teens trotted in then with more soda, more chips and dip, and whoops of joy when they saw the container of chicken wings.

  “All right.” Wedge made a beeline for the wings. “Josie makes the best food.”

  “How do you know? I thought she just moved here,” Holt took a wing, sampled, and had to agree. Perfectly seasoned.

  “She ‘n’ Cars have been coming to see Mrs. Avery, like, for years.” Duke grabbed a couple of wings.

  Carson grinned. “Cuz Oma said the guys helped out—like taking the garbage cans to the curb—Mom started making cookies and stuff for them. Like for thanks.”

  “Yeah, Josie’s cool,” Wedge said. “Even about our music, you know?”

  Duke snorted. “Mostly. She has a thing about women being called hoes and bitches.”

  “Does she?” Obviously, Josie not only fed the boys, but listened to them as well. Holt smiled and took another wing. Somehow, he wasn’t surprised in the least.

  Carson dropped down beside Yukio in the pillow pile in front of the couch. “When the game’s over, I’m supposed to bring everybody back over to our place, and if we have any room left, she’ll have nachos, tacos, and burritos. We can kick a soccer ball around in the back, too.”

  Duke grinned and instructed Holt, “Never turn down her food, man. It’s dope.”

  “All right then.” Holt smiled and wondered if she knew exactly who she’d invited over.

  * * * * *

  Twilight had set in by the time everyone trooped over to Josie’s house, and to Holt’s surprise, Jake and Vance decided to join in.

  Holt was pleased with the chance to see her. He didn’t want her to get the chance to solidify her fears about having a relationship with him. Uh-uh. If she didn’t like him, that would be different. There was a fine line between being persistent and stalking. However, Josie was delivering mixed messages, retreating then advancing. He’d have to observe with all senses in case her uncertainty turned toward a definite no.

  After cleaning up the living room, Holt, Vance, and Jake headed for Josie’s house. The older teens had halted in the front yard, texting for permission to eat at Carson’s.

  Holt, followed by Jake and Vance, stopped in Josie’s living room to admire the holiday decorations. In the front corner, the six-foot Christmas tree was covered in blue and gold lights and science fiction/fantasy ornaments. A tiny black dragon had a Rudolph-red nose. A hobbit-hole was circled with tiny lights. Darth Vader wore a Santa hat…as did the Predator. Holt snorted. Now, that was just wrong.

  As Holt entered the kitchen, Carson, Brandon, and Yukio were already there, chattering away to Josie.

  “Carson,” she asked. “Food will b
e ready soon. How many will be here?”

  “Me ‘n’ Brandon ‘n’ Yukio,” Carson reported.

  “And Duke and Wedge,” added Brandon.

  Yukio nabbed a black olive and popped it into his mouth. “The vet and the Fed and the firefighter, too. They said they know you.”

  “The…firefighter?” Josie turned.

  And there—that was delight in her eyes, in her expression, in her posture. The worried expression took a good ten seconds to appear.

  “Josie.” Vance moved forward as the three boys grabbed soccer balls and went out the back door. “Carson invited us over, but if this is an awkward time, we can take a rain check. I know you’ve been smothered in names the past couple of weeks. I’m Vance Buchanan, married to Sally.”

  And to Galen, Holt added silently. The two Doms shared their submissive wife.

  “It’s good to see you, Vance,” Josie said, smiling. “You, too, Jake. And Holt. How was the game?”

  As Vance answered, Jake glanced at Holt and said quietly, “She’s still not sure if you’re worth the risk.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Holt said, equally quietly. “She’s picked up some scars in the past.”

  “Mmm. Dodging old hurts is tricky.”

  No shit. “She’s worth it.”

  Jake’s smile widened, and he slapped Holt on the shoulder in approval. When Josie looked at him, he said, “Do you need a grocery store run? Anything picked up? Rainie has me well trained.”

  “Well trained?” Vance snorted. “You two need to get away from the dog kennels and out with humans once in a while.”

  Laughing, Josie shook her head. “I always make tons of food. Carson knows he can bring people home and feed them anytime.”

  The two older teenagers came in, saw the food, and exchanged fist bumps.

  Josie moved forward to give one a pat on the shoulder and the other a fond smile. “Carson and his friends are in the backyard. We set up a soccer goal this morning, and he’s been eager to give it a try.”

  “Cool,” Duke said. He and Wedge jogged out the back door, obviously already familiar with the house.