A Family Worth Fighting For (The Worthy Series Book 3)

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A Family Worth Fighting For (The Worthy Series Book 3) Page 9

by S. M. Smith


  “It’s going well,” Eric replies. “We’re down to the final four brackets. We’ll be starting those games in about five minutes. How is the sale going?”

  A different excitement overcomes me and I know I start to bounce on my toes, but I can’t contain myself.

  “We’re officially funded!!” I know I probably look like a manic cheerleader doped up on strong amounts of caffeine jumping up and down and clapping my hands, but the financial burden is one less thing all of us can be concerned about and that makes me ridiculously happy.

  Stephen slides an arm around my waist, effectively stopping my bouncing, but replacing my excitement with the libidinal feelings that slowly creep through my treacherous body again. I finally do look up at him and see he’s excited too, just not necessarily about our trip being financially taken care of. I pull out of his arm and take a precautionary step away from him, feeling the red in my cheeks spread.

  I catch a look from Adam that says he knows exactly what is happening between us so I change topics fast.

  “So which four teams are in the finals?” I ask and turn toward the bracket board.

  “My team, Stephen’s team, the guys from the UMKC basketball team and the team from the Marines’ recruitment office,” Adam responds.

  I snap a few shots of the bracket board and turn to go, but get pulled from behind up against my very drenched, very sexy husband.

  “And just where do you think you’re going?” he purrs in my ear. My breath catches from the heat of his breath on my neck. I quickly remember we’re in public, only partially pulling me out of my heady world.

  “Trying to get away from your stinky pits.” I giggle and try to wiggle out of his grip. He tightens his arms around me, picking me up and spinning me around. He puts me back down and turns me around so we’re face to face. My hands land on his hard chest, getting grossly wet in the process.

  “That’s gross. You need a shower.” I can’t help the disgusted look on my face, but it only makes him laugh harder.

  “Oh, I know you like me all hot and sweaty.” His voice goes all low and seductive. I push off of him, narrowing my eyes at him.

  “Maybe later, stud. But right now, you have a game to go win.”

  “Will you come back and watch?” he pouts, effectively drawing a chesty laugh out of me.

  “As soon as we’re all sold out. Do me a favor and make an announcement that we’re almost sold out and that we’ll be shutting down soon? That should help us sell out sooner.”

  “Would you be mad if I bought the remaining inventory?” His eyebrows bounce as he tries to flirt. The idea of having all those baked goods in my kitchen makes my stomach roll.

  “Yes, I would. We do not need all those sweets in our home.”

  “Oh, I’d send them home with Grady.” He points to a group of guys where Grady and Jason are laughing along with a couple of guys I’ve seen from Stephen’s office.

  “He’ll just drag you to the gym more often then,” I counter.

  “Making me hot and sweaty more often. See? It’s a win, win situation.” He raises his brows and flashes that you-know-I’m-right-and-super-cute smile.

  I roll my eyes and step away, shaking my head. “You’re impossible,” I yell at him without looking over my shoulder.

  “And you love me even more for it,” he calls out, but doesn’t follow.

  ***

  “And the winner of today’s three on three half court tournament is the Liti-Gators!!” Eric announces with way too much enthusiasm. Stephen’s team holds up their donated trophies with too much verve than is necessary. I take a couple of shots of the guys being goofballs before I see my exuberant husband find me.

  “Congrats, Mr. Cahill,” I tell him as he saunters my way.

  Before I know it, I’m swept up into his arms and am being spun around again.

  “It’s been a good day, Mrs. Cahill. Take me home and feed me?”

  “Only if you shower first.” I wrinkle my nose at him. “No offense, babe, but this new scent of yours…it’s not my favorite.”

  He chuckles at me while nuzzling my neck.

  “Seriously, go shower then I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

  “Mmm,” he purrs, raising a dirty eyebrow and tightens his grip on me.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Cahill.”

  “Do you now?”

  “I do, and if you are expecting any extracurricular attention at all tonight, it will be after you shower.” I push him away and shoo him toward the locker room.

  He starts to walk but looks over his shoulder to make sure I’m still watching him.

  “Like the view, Mrs. Cahill?” he asks smugly. I drop my gaze and just shake my head.

  Oh I do, Mr. Cahill….yes, I do.

  Chapter Eleven

  ~Stephen~

  “Baby, I’m home.” I shut the front door and turn around. And stop, frozen as I take in the state of our home.

  I think our closet might have exploded all over our dining room. Shoes lay thrown all over the floor. Shirts and matching pants lay haphazardly over the backs of the chairs. Three suitcases lay open on the dining room table, half full with various undergarments. Two toiletry bags sit on the kitchen island. About a dozen bottles and a stack of boxed medications sit beside the bags. On the counter, our passports, several pieces of paper, the pamphlet of checklists David gave us and a three ring binder are all strewn across it.

  And my beautiful bride is nowhere in sight.

  “Um… Jessie?” I call out hoping she isn’t buried under clothes somewhere.

  “In here.” I see an arm wave out of our bedroom doorway. I carefully step over the shoes and start making my way to her.

  I peek inside our bedroom to find it is in similar disarray, clothes strewn all over the bed and floor. Half the dresser drawers are partially open with various socks, ties and t-shirts hanging out of them. Jessie stands just inside our closet, staring at the half empty rack of clothes hanging in front of her. I set my bag down on her hideous armchair, keeping in mind that’s where I put it just in case I need to search for it later.

  “Um…baby…what’s going on?”

  Frustratingly brushing her hair off her forehead, she turns to me and slumps her shoulders.

  “I can’t find my purple t-shirt. The one with the bird on it.”

  About ten different comments about it having been swept up in the tornado that hit the rest of the house come to mind, but judging by the look on her face, it’s probably not the most appropriate time to say any of them.

  “Okay…let me help you find it. But can we kind of organize this mess first? Maybe we’ll find it in the process.”

  She gives me a hopeful, almost relieved look as I start picking up clothes and fold them.

  She asks me how my day was as we bring in everything from the other rooms. As the clothes start to pile up on the bed, she starts to visibly relax as we find apparently the many things she’s been looking for. About an hour later, all clothes from both the dining room and bedroom have been folded and laid out on the bed, ready to be packed. I carry in the luggage and lay it out on the bed, helping her strategically fit the majority of our wardrobes in two suitcases. I retrieve the toiletry bags and talk her through what all should be in each of them before securing them. She won’t let me zip up the cases and move them to the floor, though.

  “I need to double check my lists.”

  “You know, we will need to sleep sometime tonight. How many times do you plan on checking them?”

  She looks at the open suitcases again and then back at me.

  “Are you sure we packed ten t-shirts for each of us?”

  “Babe, yes, I’m sure. Besides there isn’t anything left in either the closet or the dresser for you to pack,” I joke. She narrows her eyes at me. Too soon, I guess. “I think you’ve got it all.”

  “I just don’t want to get down there and not be prepared. It’s not like they’re going to have a mall for us
to go to should we not have what we need.” She starts to unpack one of the suitcases and I realize that she’s just going to keep doing this until she passes out from lack of sustenance and exhaustion.

  “Hey,” I say, grabbing her hands so she’ll stop undoing all that we’ve just done. “Why don’t we go out tonight? Someplace nice, just you and me, a quiet dinner out before we leave.”

  She sighs heavily and I know she’s not going to relax unless I make her. Before she can protest, I rush into the nearly empty closet and dig through the dresses that were too nice to take to Haiti. I find my favorite red one with the high neck and open back and pull it off the rack. Her dress shoes are all still carefully in place so it takes no time at all to find the sexy black open toe heels I know she loves. I scoop them up and quickly lay them on top of everything.

  “You have thirty minutes. If you are not in the living room ready to go by then, I will carry you as you are out of this apartment.”

  She hasn’t moved by the time I reach the door.

  “Make that twenty nine minutes, fifty-three seconds.”

  She snaps out of it and moves toward the bathroom. Seeing her hurry brings a smile to my face.

  With only two minutes to spare, she steps out of the bedroom, hair swept back in a bun just off her neck, face fresh with only a touch of color on her cheeks and looking a little less stressed. She finishes putting pearl studs in her ears and brushes her hands over the skirt of her dress.

  “I think I’m ready,” she says, still very much focused on whatever is strolling through her mind.

  I step up in front of her and take up her hands and bring them to my lips.

  “You look absolutely breath-taking.”

  She blushes and instinctively I wrap my hands around her waist and pull her in close.

  “Thank you,” she breathes against my lips. I close the distance between us and kiss her softly.

  She lingers on my lips, physically relaxing in my arms and I just want to hold her like this all night. But my stomach starts to growl.

  “Let’s go get some dinner.”

  ***

  “I think the broccoli looks better on the other side of your plate,” I say after watching her rearrange her plate for the last five minutes. She looks up apologetically and puts her fork down. “Not hungry?”

  “Just trying to think if I’ve remembered everything. I feel like I’ve forgotten something. And since we leave in the morning I need to know we have everything we could possibly need.”

  “Jess, I’m sure we’ll be fine. If we don’t have it, we’ll just have to live without it for a few weeks. We’ll be okay.”

  She just nods, but picks up her fork and starts pushing around her broccoli again.

  “Jess, what’s really wrong?”

  She doesn’t answer or look up at me for a few moments. When she finally does, I see her fighting back tears.

  “How can I help someone when I’m having a hard time taking care of myself?”

  “Did something happen today?” I ask, fearful that the playful, jaunty girl that I’ve had the last couple weeks is gone. She sniffs and pats her napkin against the corner of her eyes.

  “Nothing specifically. I’m under attack, and I know I’m under attack. I just feel like I’m doing a horrible job of fighting it.”

  “Oh, Jess. Why didn’t you say something?” I put down my fork and start looking for the waiter.

  “I didn’t want you to think I’m having doubts about going. I just have felt unsure about our decision to go all day. An annoying little voice inside has been telling me I should never have stopped with my hormone therapy and that we should be here trying to get pregnant. I know in the depths of my heart that we’ve made the right decision, so I didn’t want to worry you by making you think I’m having second thoughts.”

  Another tear slides down her face. I fight the urge to wipe it away.

  “Jessie—“ I don’t know what to say. She’s obviously struggling to keep herself together so I do the only thing I know to do. I reach across the table and grab her hands and bow my head.

  “Father God in heaven, please protect this angel of yours. She’s under attack and needs your strength. Cover her in your love, help her to feel the comfort and peace she needs for the choices she’s made. Remind her, oh God, of your promises. Of how you will deliver her from this suffering, give her strength in her weariness, and power when she’s weak. Forgive me, God, for not seeing this before…”

  I hear her sniff. I look up at her and see she’s fighting for control of her emotions and in that moment she’s quickly losing the battle. I flag down the nearest waitress and toss her my card. She hurries away and is back within two minutes. I sign for our meal and rush Jessie out to the car, shielding her from wondering eyes as we leave the restaurant.

  I’m always amazed by the strength Jessie has in times like these, but none more than tonight. She manages to hold her composure until we are safely in the car. Once she’s buckled in, she crumbles, all resolve gone. It tears at my heart, and all I want to do is hold her but I know the best thing I can do for her right now is get her home.

  I drive like a mad man, motivated by the gut-wrenching sobs coming from Jessie’s side of the car. When we pull into my parking spot, I hastily climb out of the car and make my way to her. Before she can even get the door open enough to step out, I’m there. As I scoop her legs up over my arm, she clings to my neck. I carry her into the house, feeling the sobs rack through her tiny body.

  I don’t stop until we’re back in our bedroom. I set her down on the edge of the bed, where she holds her head in her hands, tears still cascading down her face. I quickly clear the bed of the luggage, taking a little pride in the fact that I didn’t dump any of it on the floor. Then turning back to her, I carefully pulling her shoes off her feet before removing her necklace. She stands so that I can remove her dress. I feel broken as I stare at the her before me, nearly naked, broken down and defeated; she’s never looked more beautiful to me.

  Finding one of my plain white t-shirts that didn’t get packed, I pull it over her bare shoulders, scooping her up again. I pull back the covers and carefully place her in bed before stripping down and crawling in behind her. I wrap my arms around her sobbing body, pulling her as close as I can get her, letting her cry it out as much as she needs to. After a little while she calms down and her breathing returns to normal.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispers, her voice broken and raspy. She wiggles enough so that she’s lying flat on her back, looking up at me. I brush loose strands of hair off her face and kiss her forehead. “I know you were just trying to help. I don’t know why I just lost it.”

  “I do. Dr. Graham said there would be consequences to you going off your hormones. This was completely out of your hands. You have nothing to apologize for.”

  She sniffs, but only as an aftereffect. She timidly smiles at me as she reaches up and cups the side of my face with a delicate hand.

  “You’re too good to me. Anyone else would have ran for the hills by now. Thank you for staying by my side.”

  “There is absolutely nowhere else I would rather be.” I turn and kiss the palm of her hand and pull her tighter to me.

  She nuzzles my chest and lays quietly for a few moments longer.

  “It’s kind of early to be in bed.” She doesn’t make any effort to move, but I know she really wants to get up and double check the luggage again.

  “It’s perfect actually. We’ll need to get up early to load the car and check in for our flight. You can do a final check in the morning.”

  She doesn’t say anything, but I feel her body tense up. I don’t loosen my grip on her any but tilt my chin to rest on her head. We lay like this for a few more moments before I feel her finally start to relax. I think she’s asleep until she turns her head up to me.

  “I love you,” she whispers, then kisses me delicately.

  “I love you, too. Rest, baby. We start a new adventure tomorrow.”
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  A few moments later, I feel her sigh against my chest as her breathing slows, finally drifting off to sleep.

  Chapter Twelve

  ~Jessie~

  The shrill ringing wakes me entirely way too early. I turn it off and roll over, finding I’m in bed alone. The delicious scent of coffee fills my nose and I know my precious Stephen has been up for a while. I snuggle the covers one last time, letting the luxuries of home sink in a little while longer.

  “Hey, you.”

  The profile of the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen stands in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee in each hand. I drink him and his enormous heart in a moment longer before sitting up and taking the offered mug.

  “Hey.” I sip the warm goodness, made just the way I love it. “I’m sorry about last night.”

  “There is nothing to be sorry about.”

  “I kind of freaked out on you.”

  “No. You handled the changes your body is going through like a champ. I’m really proud of you. But I need you to promise me something.”

  “Proud of me?”

  One side of his mouth pulls up in a small smile and he glances down at his cup before explaining.

  “Yeah. You’re just so incredibly strong. I understand why you wanted to try to handle all that by yourself. But Jess, we’re leaving for a mission trip today. We’re about to embark on an undertaking that requires us to focus on other people and do what we can to help them. But that doesn’t mean that if you need to take some time to focus on you, you shouldn’t. In fact, I need you to promise me that if you are starting to feel the way you were yesterday, you have to tell me right away. Promise me that you won’t try to deal on your own again. Let me help you, please.”

  The look in his eyes say that last night was particularly hard on him.

  “I promise.”

  He leans over and kisses my forehead, before reaching for my half-empty mug.

  “So I’ve triple checked our bags against your checklists. We’re all packed up and ready to go. Why don’t you go shower; we need to leave in an hour.”

 

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