“There is nothing you can ever say or do that will make me forgive you. Go home to your new family, Justin. Don’t text me. Don’t call me. We have no reason to converse whatsoever. The only time I ever want to hear from you is if something is wrong with one of our children,” I hiss.
He nods his head stiffly, all signs of his tears gone, but he doesn’t say anything at first. I’m about to call the nurse to kick him out, but the words that leave his mouth make my skin crawl.
“You’ll always be mine, Ell, and I will do everything in my power to fix this,” he vows. His face is serious, and I don’t doubt for one second he believes what he just said. He is wrong on so many levels, because in this moment, I hate every single thing about him. “I’m in counseling Ell, and there is so much more to tell you.”
“Get out or I’m calling the police,” I roar.
He starts to say something else but stops and heads for the door when robo-nurse walks in.
“I’m sorry, miss, you’re going to have to keep your voice down. This is a hospital,” she barks at me.
I sit for a long while, replaying that conversation in my head over and over.
A knock on the door startles me from my thoughts and I don’t even realize I’m holding my breath until I see Cord’s gorgeous face poke through. I just don’t want to deal with Justin anymore.
“Hey, beautiful, you awake?” Cord’s smooth, deep voice questions.
“Saint,” I choke out. He rushes to my side, grabbing my hand and bringing it to his chest.
“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” he questions.
I have a lump in my throat the size of Texas, so I just shake my head. I pull his hands to my face and hold them there, deeply inhaling his scent to exterminate Justin’s.
He gently rubs his thumb over my cheek and leans his head to mine.
“Please tell me what’s wrong, E,” he whispers against my hair.
“Just give me a second,” I plead.
He crawls gently onto the bed with me, tucking me against his side as easily as he can. He rubs his hands sweetly down my back and shoulder, being mindful of my injuries. We lay still as I center myself and enjoy his closeness. When I think I’ve finally got myself calmed down, I pull back from him to look at his face, which is covered in concern.
“Justin was here when I woke up. He wanted to apologize, which didn’t really go well, and then he pissed me off big time,” I tell him honestly.
Cord’s body goes rigid. “What happened? Did he hurt you?”
He pulls completely from me, running his hands down my face and looking at my body like he’s inspecting for more injuries.
“He didn’t hurt me. I promise. He just didn’t take too well to me telling him I’d never forgive him and that there is no chance of getting back together,” I reply, my voice a little lower than normal. I’m kind of scared how he will react to this.
“Wait, what do you mean ‘no chance of getting back together’?” he blurts.
I watch as the anger seeps into his features and I’m almost not sure I want to tell him. If this is his reaction to what I’ve already told him, he may lose his shit. I decide that Justin’s well-being is no longer my concern. My biggest concern is Cord will get himself into trouble at Justin’s expense.
“Before I tell you what happened, you need to promise me you will stay in this room with me and not run after him when I tell you,” I state. He squints his eyes at me like he’s mad, but trying to figure out if he can get around that promise.
“Done. Promise,” he insists. I examine his expression, which looks murderous at this point.
“Well, he apologized,” I pause and watch his face closely, “and when I told him I’d never forgive him and to leave me alone, he basically told me he would do everything he could to fix things. He even said he was going to counseling.”
I see the moment the anger drains away and the worry pops up.
He lets go of my hands and sits back in the chair beside my bed. Putting his head down and running his hands through his hair, he stops and leaves his hands on the back of his head, his face toward the ceiling.
“Say something, please,” I beg.
He drops his head back down and looks me in the eye with seriousness.
“Ellie, I need you to tell me right now if it is even a slight possibility you will be getting back together with him,” he pleads, a completely stoic look on his face.
“I can promise you, with every single ounce of life left in my body, I will never get back together with Justin,” I tell him forcefully. “Do you have any idea what that man did to me, Saint?” It dawns on me that twice now I’ve called him Saint. It seems natural to call him by his real name; I’m not sure why. Both times he’s paused and taken a deep breath. I know it’s because he hasn’t gone by Saint since his wife died, but it’s a beautiful name and it fits him so much better than Cord.
“I know, babe, but you guys have a really long history, and I just wanted to make sure before our relationship goes any further. I really like you, Ellie, but I’m not willing to put myself out there only for you to turn around and go back to that asshole,” he tells me honestly.
I reach my hand out to him, and he takes it without hesitation.
“There will never be any reason for you to think that. I’m yours for as long as you want me,” I whisper seductively. Butterflies erupt in my stomach as he places his hand on my cheek and leans into me, kissing my lips sweetly.
“Sorry to interrupt, folks,” Dr. Hill blurts as he walks into my room. “Looks like we’re ready to kick you out of here, if you’re ready, Ms. Harper.”
“Yes, sir!” I confess.
He chuckles under his breath and tells me he’ll instruct the nurse to get my discharge papers going and I’ll be out soon. A few hours later, they wheel me down to the front and I wait with the nurse while Saint gets the car. I can’t wait to take a shower.
THE BOYS ARE AT my apartment when we get there. Although super sore on almost every part of my left side, I feel pretty damn good considering. I still haven’t found out all the details of the accident, although Dr. Hill gave me a business card for a police officer who wants to talk to me about what happened. I’ll call him later.
Saint gets me settled on the couch before he walks back into the kitchen and starts messing with things in there. I know he’s just giving me time to talk to my boys, and I appreciate that so much. Ben wasn’t exactly thrilled the last time I saw him.
“How are you guys doing?” I ask happily.
“How are we? How are you, Mom? You got hit by a car less than forty-eight hours ago,” Ben chuckles, shaking his head slowly.
“I actually feel pretty good in spite of being hit by car less than forty-eight hours ago,” I reply with sass, winking at him playfully.
He wraps his arms around my shoulder gently and hugs me without squeezing. “You scared the shit out of us, Ma. Please don’t ever do that again,” he whispers into my ear.
I nod because I can’t speak past the lump in my throat. I know they had to have been super worried, and it breaks my heart they had to endure that.
The boys and I sit and chat for a long while. I keep glancing over at Saint in my kitchen, and I know he’s in the zone. He’s cooking. Although I’m trying like hell to listen to the boys chattering about classes and dates, I find myself magnetized to Saint—hand towel thrown over his shoulder, my patchwork apron folded in half and tied around his waist. He’s sinful looking and watching a man cook is a huge turn on for me . . . something I’d have never known before since Justin never lifted a finger in the kitchen.
It must be obvious that I’m zoning out because Destry clears his throat and chuckles, and when I look over at them, Ben is glaring daggers at Saint and Eli has a shit-eating smirk on his face.
“What?” I ask innocently.
“You might have a little drool right here,” Eli replies slyly, acting like he’s reaching to my face to wipe it away.
I bat h
is hand away and can feel my face heat in embarrassment. My kids just caught me ogling the hot neighbor. Awesome.
“Well, I think it’s time for us to hit the road,” Destry tells me, helping me to stand so I can hug them all.
“I leave early tomorrow morning. Ben’s gonna take me to the airport.” He pauses just long enough to nod in Saint’s direction. “You make sure he takes good care of you. He seems like a good man, Mama,” he basically whispers. I nod, feeling a little lighter that I’m not the only one who feels that way.
The twins get up, hug me easily, and turn to Saint.
“Cord, thanks for helping out. Be good to her or we’ll cut your balls off,” Eli says with a grin from ear to ear.
“Elijah!” I screech.
Saint shakes his head and laughs, no note of anger on his face.
“I promise you boys right here and now, I’ll never hurt her intentionally. You have my word,” Saint tells them seriously. He nods toward the door, following them outside and shutting the door behind them.
What the hell was that? A conversation they don’t want me a part of? On one hand, it makes me happy he is making an effort to have a relationship with my boys, but on the other hand, I am very protective of them, and even though they are grown, they’re still mine. I will always worry.
A few minutes later, Saint returns, a smile on his face as he continues cooking.
“Oh no, sir. You don’t get to just come back in here and act like nothing just happened. Why did you go outside with my kids and shut the door? Something I can’t hear?” I ask with more sass than I’d intended.
“Actually, I just wanted to have a man-to-man conversation with them. They are concerned for your well-being, as they should be, and I wanted to put their minds at ease. They now know my intentions with you are completely honorable and they will never have to worry about anything different while we are together,” he convinces me.
I walk slowly to the kitchen, never taking my eyes off his. He doesn’t move, just watches me as I make my way to him. Stopping right in front of him, I wrap my arms around his waist gently and hug him easily. He returns the hug super gentle, barely touching my body. This man may just break me forever if I let him, but you know what? I’m willing to take that chance because, although I’m scared, I can see it in his face he is sincere. He really does believe in what he says, and he is the least selfish person I’ve ever met. He is Justin’s total opposite. Although he knows he’s good-looking, he’s not vain. He’s honest to a fault, and I can tell, when he cares about someone, he cares for them with everything he has in him.
“Thank you, Saint,” I whisper. He doesn’t say anything in response, but turns me sideways and tenderly slides his arms under my knees, lifting me and then cradling me to his chest like a baby.
“You should be resting, baby,” he retorts.
I’m surprised at the ease with which he picks me up. I mean, he’s a big man, but I’m not exactly tiny. He lays me down on the couch and kisses me sweetly before returning the kitchen and continuing to cook.
I must have dozed off because the next thing I know, Saint is softly rubbing his thumb back and forth across my cheek, while cupping my face.
“Hey, beautiful, you need to wake up and eat so you can take your pain medicine,” he asserts.
When my eyes finally open completely, I raise my arms to stretch and yelp when I realize how tender my elbow and shoulder are too.
“Shit, babe, are you okay?” he asks with worry.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just need to remember not to do that again,” I croak out.
Before I even realize what he’s doing, I’m up in his arms again and he’s carrying me to the kitchen bar, depositing me on a stool easily.
“Hope you’re hungry,” he blurts, smiling at me widely. It warms my heart how much he seems to enjoy taking care of me, but once again, my brain is screaming at me that I will never put myself in a position where I need a man to take care of me again.
Deep breath. Saint is different. He wants to take care of me because he cares about me, not because he wants me to be his maid and control me like Justin did.
“I’m starving, and this all smells so delicious I’m drooling,” I babble.
“Well, I made eggplant parm with a pear and gorgonzola salad and garlic bread. Sorry, no wine for you, missy. You get water, a pain killer, and an anti-inflammatory.” He smiles at me warmly.
“I don’t think I need the pain killer. I’m not in pain. Let’s just try the anti-inflammatory for now. If I’m in pain later, I’ll take a pain pill before bed,” I instruct, and he does as I ask without any question or argument. Surprising.
“I hate pain killers too. They just make me feel stupid and tired,” he jokes.
I nod, but don’t reply because I’m busy shoveling this heavenly dinner he made me in my mouth. He chuckles before digging into his own plate. I don’t know that I’ve ever had better eggplant parm in my life, and since it’s one of my favorite dishes, I’ve had it just about every place in the city that makes it. He is definitely passionate about his food.
When I take the last bite, I look beside me and see Saint is watching me with an amused look on his face.
“I take it you were hungry?” he chuckles.
“Shut up. I was starving. Hospital food sucks ass and that was amazing. Thank you for cooking for me, Saint,” I respond.
He takes a deep breath, never looking away from me. “I really like hearing my name come off your lips,” he reveals with a sadness in his tone.
I smile at him and stand to rinse my plate. I know this is a big step for him. When he told me the story about Maloree and basically, when she died was when he stopped using his real name, I knew it was because he felt like a different person after she died. He didn’t say that out loud, but I knew that’s what he’d done.
Losing Maloree had changed him, and he wanted to be a different person. It probably also gave him some anonymity since everyone knew who Saint Cordero was. Hell, even my children knew who he was.
As I’m reaching for the faucet, Saint puts his hands on my hips, turning me toward him slowly. “I got this, babe. Go lay down,” he instructs, sounding somewhat demanding, which is hot and makes my insides clench.
“I think I’ll go take a shower ‘cause I smell like the hospital and I still have dried blood in places,” I tell him as I walk toward my bathroom.
“Holler if you need help,” he chuckles.
“Yeah, yeah, big man . . .” I trail off.
It takes me a few minutes longer than usual to get my clothes off. I’m starting to feel the fact I haven’t taken any pain medicine since this morning at the hospital, but I really don’t want to take it unless I absolutely have too. It dawns on me after I’m already completely naked that I don’t have anything to cover my brace with. Shit.
I wrap a towel around my body, open the bathroom door, and shout, “Saint, can you bring me a garbage bag?”
“Yep,” he shouts back, and seconds later, I see him coming down the hall, fidgeting with trying to get it open. I stick my hand out for him to give it to me, and he just looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“Open the door, Ellie. You can’t put this on by yourself,” he advises, shaking his head and smiling.
“I don’t have any clothes on,” I whisper.
“You are wrapped in a towel, I can see it, so you’re covered,” he groans as he pushes gently on the door, making me take a step back, allowing him in.
He steps up to me, grabbing my bad arm tenderly, putting the bag over it, and securing it at the top of the brace before pulling back. I watch as his eyes take in the road rash covering my entire shoulder and arm.
“We should probably put some ointment on some of the bigger cuts and scratches so it doesn’t burn so bad when the water hits it,” he says while fumbling in the medicine bag from the hospital. I nod, allowing him to do it, but knowing full well I could probably do it myself. The idea of his hands on my body, even if in a
non-sexual way, sends sparks throughout my body.
By the time he’s done, I’m saying a prayer thanking God for the fact I have thick towels or he’d be able to see just how much his presence and touch are affecting my body.
“Thank you,” I almost moan. Yeah, that sounded desperate.
He must hear the need in my voice because he spins back around just as he’s about to leave and takes the one step back into my space.
“God, Ellie, I want to make love to you so bad right now,” he groans against my lips just as his mouth crashes into mine. My body reacts like it should and I reach to pull his body against mine. He eases the kiss into something much gentler, but nips at my bottom lip before completely pulling his mouth from mine with a growl.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, bringing my hand to lips and kissing it sweetly.
“Don’t be. I feel the same way,” I tell him honestly. “I’m just scared, Saint. I know we haven’t really discussed this part, but you should probably know that Justin is the only man I’ve ever been with, and it’s been a really long time.” My voice lowers and eyes drop because it’s embarrassing to admit that at thirty-nine years old, I’ve had one lover, and it’s been almost two years since I’ve had sex.
“Don’t you dare be embarrassed about that, Ellie Harper. That makes me want you even more, if that’s even possible,” he replies sternly. He lifts my chin and brushes the hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear.
“When we make love for the first time, I want to be able to ravage you. I want to be able to press my body against yours until we feel like one person. I want to spend hours worshiping every inch of you, showing you what you mean to me. I have no doubt, when we do come together, it will be amazing. But we will wait until you’re completely ready, because there will be no going back once you’re mine. Once my body has been inside yours, I won’t give you up. I only make love when it’s forever, Ellie,” he whispers against my lips, before pulling completely away from me, turning, and walking out the door.
Defining Moments Page 16
