by Raina Lynn
You’re being paranoid, Hughes. Irritated with herself, she suppressed the irrational reaction and sat on the edge of the bed.
Rick yelled from the other room. “Dad, can I meet John at the arcade?”
Maggie arched a brow. “He’s asking you?”
Garrett took a deep, satisfied breath. “Not tonight. We’ve got a long day tomorrow, remember?”
“Okay,” he called back cheerfully.
Such self-confidence radiated from the man she loved. It gave rise to a newborn hope that maybe they had a chance after all. Garrett rested his elbows on the arms of his wheelchair, obviously savoring the moment as he recounted the latest chunks he’d chipped away at Rick’s wall. This was more like the old Garrett, one who faced the world head-on. She would have rejoiced, except this particular mood of his made her feel like a cornered rabbit, one that was about to get eaten.
“I think it’s time to talk about us.”
“Good subject,” she said, sounding more confident than she felt. “There’s a support group at RPI. It’s called Whole Family. I think we all need to go.”
He looked mildly repelled. “Is this the same one Sapperstein kept ramming down my throat?”
“Good. You heard about it.”
“Frequently.”
Maggie felt more uncomfortable by the minute. Being together in their old bedroom was hard enough. So was trying to figure out why he was so different. He didn’t have to make it worse by treating the conversation like an interrogation.
Garrett transferred from the chair to the bed. “You’re squirming.”
Logic told her he wasn’t close enough for his body heat to burn into her skin, but she felt it nonetheless. “I don’t squirm,” she retorted irritably.
“Why do you bother lying, babe?” He sounded tired. The weekend with all its ups and downs was demanding its due. “We have things to discuss.”
Like the fact that you’re going to tell me goodbye. Desperate, she turned and faced him. A mistake. A big one. His eyes bored into her, extracting secrets and churning her emotions. Standing up was the quickest way to put space between them. He frowned in disapproval.
“Look, Garrett. You’ve just made major progress with Rick. Now you think you can tackle us. I’m just not up to being steamrollered tonight. Can it wait? Besides, what’s wrong with the RPI group?”
He stared at her for so long she decided he didn’t plan to answer at all.
“Garrett, we’ve made so many mistakes on our own that I think it’s time to get some help.” She paced from the TV to the door and back.
Slowly, his expression shuttered, he said, “I can’t see myself baring my soul to a room full of strangers.”
“It’s not that type of group.” Maggie sat beside him. “It’s learning life skills and how to redefine relationships. Patients and their families exchange ideas and experiences.”
He looked appalled.
“How can you say you want to ‘talk about us,’ yet be unwilling to try something that might work?”
His carefully neutral expression gave nothing away. Her heart pounded against her chest.
“Make what work?” he asked softly. “A reconciliation?”
That time she believed she really did squirm under his probing gaze. She thought about lying, but what was the point? “In part.” His lips tightened, but she plunged on. “Whether anything ever happens between us isn’t the only issue. We are all in this mess together—you, me, Blake, our parents, our son. We need to learn to adjust, and that’s going to take outside help. Whole Family has an excellent success record.”
She watched each word penetrate. Then he spared an acid glance at the wheelchair. “I can’t see that I’ll ever adjust to that thing, but I’m through wallowing in it.”
Then he gently took her hand, but she found no pleasure in the deliberateness of his touch. Apprehension flooded her.
“Coming home was a mistake, babe. I’ve done nothing but hurt you.”
“That’s not true!” Her stomach knotted, and her heart screamed against what was to come.
“I know you want to get back together. Friday night made that pretty clear.”
Each word hit like a hammer. She was losing him. They weren’t married anymore. Their relationship had no safety net, not even the illusion of one. Tears burned, but she fought them back. “I won’t give up on us. I love you too much.”
That wasn’t quite what he expected, and it showed in his suddenly tense shoulders. He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. “I’ve explained this in bits and pieces, but you need to understand—”
“I understand just fine!” The tears clouded her vision, but she wouldn’t let them fall. “You’re going to ride off into the sunset without me.”
He blinked, startled. “Babe, I’m not the cowboy hero in some movie.”
“White knight,” she muttered, aggravated that the words slipped out.
“What?” he frowned.
“Nothing.” She waved a hand dismissively. “You were about to give me a I’m-walking-out-on-you-for-your-own-good speech. Get it over with.”
“You make it sound as if I feel nothing.”
“Won’t feel. There’s a difference.”
He cupped her chin. “I will always love you. I’ve never denied that, or even tried to. It’s because I love you that I won’t be a burden to you for the rest of our lives.”
Maggie shrieked in outraged pain, launched off the bed and whirled on him. “Do you know how many paraplegics are out there changing the world? You’ll be one of them, too, and I want to be with you when you do!”
Dismay twisted his beloved features. “Babe, you’ve got an unrealistic view of me.”
Her arms fell limply to her side. “What really happened in the kitchen? You came out different.”
“You’re right.” He sighed.
“It’s scaring me.” The tears finally spilled, blinding her. Before she turned her back on him to wipe them away, she saw his dismay turn into an open need to comfort her, to make it all go away. She didn’t yield. A temporary fix wouldn’t cut it.
“There’s no reason to be afraid.”
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t be,” she said with a sob.
She heard the mattress squeak a split second before an iron grip closed around her waist, dragging them both to the floor. Maggie yelped in surprise, and Garrett shifted his weight to cover hers, effectively pinning her to the floor.
“Sorry,” he muttered gruffly. “You were too far away to grab and pull back to the bed.”
She almost asked if he’d hurt himself, but swallowed it back. One look at the steely purpose in those eyes screamed that he was just fine. So she settled for, “Are you nuts?”
“Probably.”
In a flash of movement too quick to follow, his lips descended on hers and muffled any further protest. He plundered her mouth, and it took her a moment to react. She squeaked in protest and pushed against him, but he ignored her. His lips slanted across hers, tasting, coaxing, insisting.
Heat coiled in the pit of her belly. She tried to fight her way out from under him but got nowhere except making her more aware of his body against hers.
“Open to me, babe,” he murmured, his breath sweet against her cheek.
“No,” she snapped. Hughes, you’re an idiot. He’s kissing you, not saying goodbye. Wake up!
“Let go, babe. Let it happen.”
Without conscious will, she drew in his scent. Her arms stole around his neck, and a low groan of approval rumbled from his chest.
She had no idea why he’d so completely contradicted himself, but she wanted him so badly the last of her resistance vaporized in the inferno of passion. She eased her tightly pursed lips. His tongue stole inside, reestablishing his mastery. With a little maneuvering, he got her blouse unbuttoned, and his hands roamed her skin at will, igniting a trail of fire wherever he touched. Maggie grabbed his shirt and tugged it free of his waistband, then commanded the same
freedom with his body as he had with hers. Her fingers swept up his sides and circled his back, the satin skin heating beneath her hands.
“Yes, babe.” His voice came caressing soft. “Touch me.”
The brief break in contact with his mouth became intolerable, and she pulled him back to her, Garrett shifted yet again, fitting himself intimately into the cradle of her hips. Maggie shuddered, arching toward his blatant arousal, the layers of clothing between them a torturous barrier.
He tasted her neck and throat, slipping his hand behind her back to unhook her bra. When her breasts were free, he lavished his attention freely just as he always had so long ago. She held him close, running her fingers through his dark hair as he stoked her fire into sweet agony.
Rolling aside, he then slipped the zipper down on her slacks and drew the fabric away. She reached for him, and he froze. His lack of movement barely registered in her fevered mind. Not until he covered her hand with his own and pulled her away did she sense disaster.
Her body throbbed with want, and she couldn’t bear to face another rejection. Whimpering silently, she tried to bury her face in his passion-damp neck.
He held her from him. “We can’t, babe,” he rasped, his breathing heavy and labored. “Risking pregnancy once was insane, but an accident. Twice won’t be so forgivable.”
“It’s okay,” she murmured, her body straining to regain the lost contact.
Garrett’s eyes widened incredulously. “That’s your body talking. You’ll hate yourself in the morning—not to mention the next nine months and eighteen years.”
She slithered against him and gently bit at his ear.
He shuddered and swore. “Tempt me a little more, though....” He extricated himself and sat up.
The fog cleared a little. “You don’t understand. Today, just in case something like this happened again, I bought some...uhmmm....” She blushed. Come on, Hughes. You’re a health-care professional. You’ve talked to patients about them before. So why the embarrassment? Because this time it’s me and Garrett, not other people. Identifying the problem didn’t make the word any easier to say. “Uhmmm... supplies.” Wimp.
Garrett looked a bit startled at first, but his eyes became molten sapphires as it sank in. “You bought condoms?”
The intense blush burned clear to her toes. During their marriage, she’d always been on the pill. Condoms seemed so mechanical, cumbersome and obvious. She half expected him to chuckle at her ridiculous discomfort, but his gaze heated with single-minded intent.
“Where are they?” The whispered question carried the impact of a lightning strike. Her blood fired anew.
“Upstairs,” she mouthed, swallowing past a mouth gone cotton dry.
“Get them.”
Maggie trembled with anticipation, and her legs didn’t want to hold her as she tried to stand. He watched in silence as she repaired her clothes, his regard more erotic than words.
Quietly, she slipped up the stairs to the spare bedroom. The discordant sounds of a universe-altering, video game war came from down the hall.
“Hi, Mom,” Rick called absently.
As Maggie raided the night table, the repetitious sound effects abruptly stopped, and Rick appeared in the doorway. He looked curiously at the small, brown paper bag in her hand.
“What’s that?”
Maggie panicked. “It’s..uhmmm...something for your father.” She felt the blood drain from her face. I didn’t really say that, did I? She wanted to crawl under a rock.
Rick tilted his head. “An early birthday present?”
“Sort of,” she hedged. Hughes, if you don’t get out of here, the Titanic will look like a minor mishap.
“Can I see?”
“No,” she choked out, then coughed to cover up her discomfort. Brushing past him, she mumbled, “See you in the morning,” hideously aware of his puzzled expression as he stared after her.
Chapter 12
By the time Maggie got back downstairs, Garrett was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting. He’d changed his mind. She saw it in the regret and self-condemnation in his eyes. Maggie’s heart sank as she realized what had happened earlier. Her tears had punched all his buttons, bypassing his brain and hitting him straight in his male, sex-solves-everything reaction. The little brown bag in her hands became even more conspicuous, but she clutched it tightly. It was either that or throw it at him.
“Babe, I—”
“Don’t you dare,” she snarled. “Do you have any idea what I just went through up there? We’re going to finish what we started, even if I have to club you over the head first.”
He gaped at her. “Come again?”
She gave a brief recap. She wasn’t quite certain what she’d expected, but his leaning back, roaring with laughter, wasn’t it.
“You told him what?” Garrett could hardly breathe.
“It’s not funny,” she snapped, stung.
Her tart denial sent him into new paroxysms of hilarity.
More humiliated than she thought a human being could be, Maggie stiffened her spine. Tonight was too much. She’d been nearly dumped, again. Nearly made love to, again. Now laughed at. “Good night, Garrett. I’m going to bed—upstairs.”
“No, you’re not,” he wheezed, fighting for his wind. Even though he could barely talk, the order carried enough weight to give her pause. “Babe, lock the door and come here. You’re not going anywhere.”
“Oh, you’ve changed your mind again? Lucky me.”
He looked at her, slowly bringing his mirth under control. “Nothing’s changed, but we are going to talk.” He reached to her.
Her heart felt like lead as it sank farther into her stomach. No matter what the situation, Garrett always had the power to entice her. Hughes, if you ever had to face a firing squad, you’d probably give them tips on how to improve their aim. Taking his hand, she let him draw her beside him on the bed.
“Dump away,” she muttered irritably.
An annoyed sound rolled from his throat. “One day, in the future, if I find that—”
“I want you now. For better or worse. This is the worse, and we’ll get through it.” Her conscience nailed her with the divorce, but she didn’t bring it up.
“Babe,” he whispered softly, agonized. “You’ve sacrificed more for me than I had any right to ask. I can’t expect you—”
“I can live with it.”
“I can’t!” The intensity of the outburst caught her off guard. “Once I get—”
Maggie leaped to her feet. “I’m not sixteen anymore! You don’t have to protect me or wait for me to grow up. You don’t have to make things perfect for us before you pop the question. We’ve been through all that. Don’t bring back the wars of twenty years ago.” Breathless, she gulped in air. “Life didn’t line up the way we wanted it. The divorce happened. The plane crash happened. But we’ve loved each other through it all. Aren’t we worth fighting for?”
Her soul lay bare between them, engulfed in a silence so profound, any reply would have dropped into the depths unheard.
Garrett opened and closed his mouth several times before he could speak. Even then, it was little more than a choked whisper. “I can’t live with you taking care of me like Mom does Dad. She’s killing herself.”
Her knees nearly buckled. “Is that how you see us? Dad needs constant supervision, and Mom flatly refuses any help. That’s what’s killing her. You’ve got decades of vital living ahead. As you get stronger and more independent, I won’t be any more of a caregiver than I was for thirteen years.”
Thoughts roiled behind his eyes, and she watched him weigh her words. Her lungs started to scream, and she realized she held her breath waiting for his decision.
He shook his head, bewildered. “How can you willingly walk into this mess?”
Her breath rushed out in a bark of laughter. “Garrett, I’ve been in it since the beginning. I even watched live coverage of the crash on TV. Yes, it’s rough now, but look how far we
’ve come.”
The inner war showed clearly in the torment on his face. “I don’t know,” he said slowly, looking at legs unnaturally still.
“Let’s define rough, Garrett. Rough is sitting in a waiting room while a team of doctors fights to save your life. Rough is doing a death watch on you in intensive care. Rough is seeing your face after Blake told you about your spinal cord.” She waved a dismissive hand. “By comparison, the garbage since your discharge has been a snap.”
Maggie clamped her jaws shut to keep from saying any more. She’d either made her case, or nothing ever would. Unconsciously, she turned away, unable to face another rejection.
“Babe, I don’t know whether you just made a whole lot of sense or if you’re telling me everything I want to hear.”
Her heart slammed into her throat, and she stole a peek. His tortured expression sent a fresh batch of tears flowing down her cheeks.
“Don’t cry, babe.” In his eyes she saw the ravages of a man completely out of his depth. “I can’t change gears this fast, but I can’t let you go either.”
She wasn’t sure which one of them moved first, but she found herself locked in his arms. A whirlwind of kisses and murmured endearments followed, and her carefully buttoned blouse wound up on the floor.
“Did you lock the door?” he asked.
Her blood heated a few more degrees. “I don’t remember.” As she got up to check, she looked back at the love shining on his beloved face. There’d be time enough to hash out their problems another day.
She flipped out the overhead light, leaving only the romantic glow of a reading lamp, then went back to his arms.
“No promises, babe,” he whispered against her hair.
“I know.” She pulled back and kissed him full on the lips. “Just think about it.”
Words became meaningless as they lost themselves to their love. Experimentation was abandoned in the need to reestablish the basic rights of belonging to each other. When they finally lay replete in each other’s arms, their breathing still slightly labored, a deep peace settled over her. The thought of ever leaving that bed was totally repellent. They dozed for a while, but she eventually forced herself to stir.
