by Joey W. Hill
Julie held Des’s hand as the male nurse gave them a heads up. “You’re all set, Mr. Hayes. We’ll be back to take you to surgery in a few minutes.” He was a young man, slim with blond hair and friendly blue eyes. Though Julie was concerned by his youth, he seemed to know what he was doing as he prepped her Master for surgery. She was being silly, she knew she was, but she expected they were used to that. Thank goodness she had Betty with her to keep her from being an idiot. Julie was confident Betty would step in if any care Des received was anything less than it should be.
“When he’s in post-op, they’ll call our desk and let us know it’s time for you two to meet with the surgeon,” the nurse told Betty.
Betty had his healthcare power-of-attorney, but Des had already updated his privacy paperwork so Julie could be in on everything discussed today. She was pleased with that further evidence he was trying not to shut her out of anything, though it didn’t really help alleviate any worries about how today would go.
“Thanks, Sal.” Betty rose. “I’m going to go to the nurses’ desk, give you two a couple minutes. I’ll be back.” She winked at Julie and touched Des’s arm. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. This is the easy part.”
She followed Sal out the door, comfortably chatting with him about the current gossip on the floor, since Betty was a regular visitor to this part of the hospital.
Julie knew she was right about this being the “easy” part, though that drew her mind to what could happen in the aftermath. She’d had a crash course in everything transplant-related these past several weeks, and anything else she could learn about managing diabetes. She did it on her own time, not wanting Des to think that she thought she was going to have to be his fulltime caregiver. But to her way of thinking, it was like him being there when Pablo’s scaffolding had failed. He’d known how to help and what to do when it mattered.
Kidney transplant surgery was now fairly straightforward. Thomas’s recovery should be a hundred percent if there were no complications, and complications for a healthy male donor were rare. Regardless, Marcus would watch him like a hawk during the recuperation period and make sure he followed every rule to the letter.
Des’s challenge would be his body accepting the kidney. He’d be put on drugs to try and prevent rejection, drugs that would lower his immune system significantly, and that he’d be on for the rest of his life. His diet, already fairly structured, would become even more regimented. If his system rejected the kidney, he would go back on dialysis and either have to do that permanently or try again with a different kidney. Though if his body rejected one that was a close genetic match, it wasn’t likely to accept another.
Yes, there were possible bad outcomes. But through the many things Julie had learned, the details she’d internalized, she held onto one message with both hands, the one Betty had hammered into her. This is a good step, the right step. The best chance he has to keep living anything resembling a normal life.
She ran an appraising eye over him. He was quiet, deep in his head somewhere, understandably, but the pressure of his hand said he was also with her. His hair was tied back for when it would need to be scooped up and tucked into the paper hat he’d have to don for surgery. They’d also put similar boots on his feet. He’d made the nurse smile when he’d asked for both of those things to happen at the last possible moment.
“Don’t want Julie to see me like that. She’d be taking pictures and using them to blackmail me.”
“That gown is looking good on you,” Julie said now.
Des glanced down. She’d only brought it out a few minutes ago, when the nurse had said it was time for him to change, so he hadn’t had time to tell her what he thought of it. The nurse had responded to it with “that rocks”, causing Julie and Betty to exchange an amused look. It also made Julie wonder if Sal was in the BDSM lifestyle.
The surgical gown was black, with tan-colored rope knots scattered among the silhouettes of voluptuous females tied in various poses. “Shibari surgery wear,” Des commented. “I can’t believe you found this.”
“It wasn’t me. Billie and Pablo helped find the cloth, and I sewed it. I’ve worked as dresser plenty of times, enough to do basic seamstress work. Fortunately, a smock isn’t very form fitting.”
He smoothed the fabric. “It’s pretty damn awesome, Julie,” he said in a low voice. “I’m going to tell them they better not mess it up or lose it when they strip me like a newborn up there.”
It gratified her to see how touched he was. He didn’t say ‘get blood on it,’ though she heard the slight hesitation as he averted that direction. Her hand involuntarily tightened on his. She wanted to climb up on the bed and hold him so tightly he’d need oxygen, but he’d cared for her, held and reassured her more than once these past several weeks. Today was her turn to be the sturdy brick wall.
“They better not. I won’t hesitate to take a megalomaniac surgeon down a peg or two because he couldn’t be bothered to fold up a smock and put it on a shelf where it would be safe.”
“I’d pay good money to see that.” He paused. “You said Pablo helped?”
“Yeah. I would have told you about him coming by the theater earlier, but the gown was a surprise and I didn’t want to tip my hand. Billie suggested the vendor and placed the order, then had Pablo pick it up and bring it to me, since Billie’s on his circuit up in Virginia. If you’d come by while Pablo was there, I was going to throw you off the scent by telling you he’s been so wracked with guilt about the nearly-killing-me thing he wanted to give me a backrub followed by intense oral sex.”
“That’s a very thorough apology. I’ll keep that in mind next time I piss you off.”
“I’ll think of a way for you to piss me off so it will happen sooner rather than later.”
She ran her fingertips over his smiling lips, along the creases by his eyes. She couldn’t help herself. He was so handsome, even fatigued and pale as he was too often these past few weeks. This was going to help. It had to. She kept her tone cheerful.
“Seriously, when he brought the fabric by, he gave me a sincere, face-to-face apology. He said he knew he should have done it a lot sooner instead of sending his chickenshit text—his words, not mine, though accurate—but he’d been too embarrassed. For a few weeks after that, he’d had the jitters about doing any more rope work, because it really hit home how right you were about what could have happened.”
It was Des’s hand that tightened on hers this time. She saw his memory of the incident in his gaze, felt it in the strength of his hold on her. “About fucking time,” he said. “Asshole.” But he said it without too much rancor and, since she knew the reason he hadn’t held onto his rage against the young rigger, she bit back a smile.
“Hmm.” Lifting his hand to her cheek, she cupped it around her jaw so she could nuzzle it. His eyes centered on her, his fingers caressing her. Ever since the important decisions had been made, about this surgery and their relationship, things had been different between them. She didn’t think it was too romantic or fanciful to call it a connection beyond words. That quiet core came with a constant, humming fullness of emotion, a bond that could only be expressed in weighted, tender, passionate stillness. She leaned in to put her lips to his, a lingering, soft gesture full of future promises. When she eased back, she didn’t go far, because he’d slid his arm around her waist to keep her close.
“The ‘asshole’ told me you came to see him a few days after my accident,” she said. “He said you introduced him to George, who mentors riggers at Logan’s club, and Pablo is now learning under his supervision. I think that was the best possible balm on his feelings to help get him back on the right path.”
“I wasn’t doing it to make him feel better. Just to help him be better. And save lives.”
“Well, that amounts to the same thing. It’s when you feel like you’ve been written off that it’s hardest to regain confidence. Not everyone has your discipline or inner strength.”
“You d
o. Because you’re here, willing to take a chance on us, even if—”
“There is no ‘even if,’” she interrupted firmly. “Every relationship is fraught with risk. Ours just has a few less common ones. Some knots and loops that will bind us all the tighter, if you want me to put it in relatable terms.”
His lips curved, the brown eyes lighting. “All right, Miss Stubborn. But don’t make a habit of interrupting me, or I’ll take a belt to you.”
She sniffed. “One mule knows another. It takes a brick to get through your thick skull.”
He grinned fully. “Did you slip off to give Thomas a hug when Sal there was checking my vitals?”
“I did. I gave him one from you as well, since I know you two are manly men who don’t do hugs.”
“You know, if I die on the table today, I won’t have to worry about meeting the rest of the family.”
“Yes, death would be far less terrifying than that.” She made a face at him and pinched his arm. “I promise you have nothing to worry about. You’ll love them, and they’ll love you.”
Though he’d spoken with wry humor, she knew the man who’d faced so many things that would scare the daylights out of most people was genuinely unsettled about meeting Thomas’s family…Des’s family. He hadn’t wanted to meet them before the surgery. He hadn’t really wanted to talk about why, though she expected it was because he had enough variables to juggle in his mind. She was glad that Thomas’s family had accepted his decision without complaint, though Elaine had had the last word, as she often did in arguments with anyone, except Marcus.
“Elaine said to tell you she’s looking forward to meeting you. She also wanted me to give you this right before you went into surgery. Now seems as good a time as any.”
Julie straightened to put her arms around him and give him a firm, lingering hug. “She told me to make sure it lasted at least ten seconds, because the best hugs do,” she murmured.
She saw the surprise in his face, and a mix of emotions that suggested what all was happening deep in his head wasn’t as calm as it appeared on the outside. She looked down at their clasped hands, giving him a moment to manage his reaction. “She also said you don’t have to worry about anyone’s expectations. She just wants to meet her nephew.”
“Well, regardless, best to meet afterward.” Des cleared his throat. “Because if she finds me detestable, she’ll wonder why the hell she’s letting her boy give up a vital organ.”
He said it with his usual dry wit, but Julie wondered if there was some truth to his worry. Just in case there was, she punched his abdomen and pronounced her opinion of that.
“Idiot.”
He fended her off. “At least aim for one of the trashed kidneys. I might need the rest of my internal organs.”
“You will.”
“All right. Don’t get feisty.” Catching both her hands, he drew her out of her chair and startled her by dragging her onto the bed with him, so he had her cradled against his side.
“Be careful of your IV.”
“It’s on the other side. I’ve managed a pump for years. I can handle some attached tubes.”
He tipped up her chin and kissed her hard, palm smoothing down her back to cup her buttocks. She’d worn snug jeans with a gauzy pink and fawn colored top over it and a camisole beneath. She was all silky curves from the waist up, and tight, thin denim below. He conveyed his appreciation with hands and mouth, until she felt arousal not only stir, but jump up a couple notches.
The last time he’d made love to her, his energy had been low, but it had been all the sweeter because they took it slow, a mutual caressing and lots of kisses that progressed to her sliding on top of him, guided by his grip, the shift of his body. He’d huskily commanded her to lower herself onto his cock. As she did, he’d wrapped his hands around her wrists, holding her in sensual restraint, her arms on either side of her, wrists pressed to her sides as she rose and fell, the pinnacle building until they shuddered through it together.
Now he broke the kiss but held her hard against his body. Taking her hand, he guided it beneath his gown to grip him firmly, her fingertips brushing his balls, her fingers coiled around his semi-turgid shaft. He pushed into her hold, closing his own hand over it, then brought her palm back to a more public-appropriate location on his chest.
“Just wanted to go in with a reminder of what’s most worth living for.”
“And, since you didn’t have a bag of carrot sticks close to hand, you made do with the second best thing.”
“Ah, a woman who understands me.”
She chuckled and held onto the humor, though it took effort when she heard a gurney and a blink later saw an orderly and Sal at the door, along with Betty.
“That’s my ride,” Des said, helping her off the side of the bed as he sat up. Squeezing her hand, he rose, tall and strong, her Master, her Des. He brushed a kiss over her lips. “See you in a bit, love.”
“You bet.” This wasn’t a life-threatening surgery, not the actual surgery itself, so she wasn’t going to cry. She smiled for him. Though he didn’t smile back, seeing all the things churning inside her, she knew he was glad to see her smile. He leaned in and spoke against her ear.
“You’ll do something for me?”
“Anything.”
“And here I am going into surgery.” His eyes sparked at her. Then he sobered. “It doesn’t matter what happens during or after this surgery. I made this choice, and Betty’s right. It’s the best one I’ve got to have a normal life with you. So whatever happens, there are no regrets. We’re rolling the dice and seeing if we’ll get lucky. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“I love you. I look forward to saying that to you every day for the rest of my life.” He touched her face and straightened as Betty slid into the room.
“Hey, I’ve got cupcakes,” she said, waving two she had on a brightly colored plate. “A patient’s family dropped them by for the nurses. Homemade yellow cake, butter cream chocolate icing.”
“You are a very cruel woman,” Desmond said. “You hear my stomach growling?”
“You’ve always said my main joy in life is torturing you.” Betty set the treats aside and wrapped her arms around him for a hug as Julie stepped back to give them room.
“No one does it better.” But he held onto her an extra moment and Julie heard what the nurse whispered to him.
“I’m so proud of you, son,” Betty said.
“Same goes,” he returned, touching her face. “I’ve always been glad you’re in my corner. Even when I don’t act like it.”
Betty’s eyes glistened, but she covered it by moving around the bed and helping Sal, taking the IV off its hook and handing it to him to transfer it to the gurney as Des boosted himself onto the transport.
“I’ll give you a twenty if you do a two wheeler around the corner,” he told the orderly, a large black man whose name tag said Paul. Paul gave him a dubious but humorous look.
“You’re only wearing that gown, man. Not sure I want a twenty bad enough to take it from where you have to be hiding it.”
“Smart man.” Des did a fist bump with him and stretched out. “But if you change your mind, I’m good for it.”
As the nurse adjusted the covers, Des looked toward Julie again, then shifted his glance to Betty. Now the look on his face was one she recognized, the face of her Master, protective and in charge, despite all evidence otherwise. Her heart swelled in her chest, creating pain and joy at once.
“Take care of my girl, Betty. Don’t let her worry.”
“I won’t. I love you, stubborn boy. See you in a bit, with your fancy new kidney.”
“The kidney of a famous artist, no less.” Des linked his hands behind his head and tossed Julie an arch look. “It might elevate my rope work to a whole new level. At the very least, I’ll probably piss more artistically. Like in loops or swirls or something.”
“Just so long as you keep it inside that porcelain circle,” Julie said dr
yly. “Else this relationship won’t last.”
He winked. “That ship is going to sail in a few seconds anyway, because Sal’s taking out the booties and paper hat. My irresistible sex appeal will be shattered beyond repair.”
“You’re going to totally rock that look,” she said fiercely.
Though of course he looked as foolish and sweetly vulnerable as every patient did. Julie managed to brave face it until they wheeled him off and the door closed with a quiet whoosh. Betty’s arm slid around her as Julie bit back a little tremble of reaction.
“He’ll be fine,” the nurse said firmly. “They took your friend up a few minutes ago. Why don’t we go hang out in his room with his family? I’ll let the nurse desk know where to find us. Dr. Pindar is the absolute best at this in the Charlotte area. Des is in great hands.”
“I know. I’m just being stupid. Why didn’t I say I love him, too?” She would have chased down the gurney like a melodramatic novel heroine, but Betty caught her arm.
“Because he already knows. And because you’ll tell him when he wakes up, when it will mean even more.” Betty touched her face. “You remember when we met, you told me you’ve waited a long time to find the right person for you?”
Julie nodded. Betty looked toward the door as if she, too, were following the progress of the gurney with her ears. “What you may not realize is, despite how much he tried not to let it happen, he’s waited a long time for someone, too. No matter how much more time this gives him, Julie, you’re the one who saved his life. You gave him a reason to want to live for himself.” She linked arms with Julie. “And in my book, that makes you a real life miracle.”
Betty’s advice was sound. Julie, Marcus, Rory, Elaine and Betty hung out in Thomas’s room, providing one another needed support and company. Though Des had checked into the hospital the night before, it was Betty’s pull and Marcus’s wealth that had obtained Thomas an assigned room before his surgery, and Julie was grateful for the gathering space. Daytime TV droned in the background while they talked and made runs to the cafeteria for bad, high calorie snacks. They discussed the hardware store, how Les was doing in medical school, Julie’s impressions of Charlotte…an assortment of random topics that helped fill the time and turn minds away from worrying.
