by T. L. Haddix
Chapter Twenty Nine
The evening was chilly by the time Wyatt and Maria returned to her condo. As they walked to the door, she asked, “That went well, don’t you think?”
He smiled back. “Yes, very well. Much less painful than I feared it would be.”
Unlocking the door, she stepped inside. “Will you come in for a while? I know it’s late, but—”
“I’d love to,” he interrupted.
His eagerness caused her to laugh, and after moving back so that he could enter, she closed and locked the door. Maria’s heart pounded with excitement and trepidation as she turned to face him. Before she could speak, he kissed her.
After several heated minutes, Wyatt pulled back. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t wait another second.” His voice was husky.
“Don’t apologize,” she said, using his tie to pull him back for another kiss. “I feel the same way.”
He settled his weight against her, pressing his hips into hers as he cupped her bottom. “If I told you that I don’t know if I can walk out of here tonight or not, would that scare you?”
Maria laughed, breathless. “Yes, but since I’m not sure I can let you go, I think we’re even.”
“You told me you weren’t ready the other night. I don’t want to rush you.”
Placing her hands on his cheeks, she gave him a deep kiss, nibbling on his lips. “I know. And the idea still scares me. It’s been a long time, Wyatt. But I’m starting to want you more than I’m scared.”
He straightened away from her. “Then why don’t we just spend some time on the couch, talking? I think I can restrain myself.”
“Are you sure?”
“No, but I’ll try. Seriously, I enjoy talking to you almost as much as I enjoy kissing you.”
“Only almost?” She grinned. “I guess this means we’ve had our first official date. I—” She stopped as a vicious cramp rolled through her abdomen, its gurgling progress audible in the quiet hallway. “Oh, no, not now.” Hurrying around him, she headed for the stairs. “I’m sorry, I have to excuse myself. Make yourself comfortable.”
Reaching the second floor, she ran flat out for the bathroom and slammed the door shut, barely making it to the toilet in time. Embarrassment rolled over her in waves, much like the cramps that gripped her gut.
“Of all the nights for this to have happened,” she moaned. The debilitating bouts had been occurring more and more frequently of late, usually accompanied by the odd flank pain. She vowed that she would call Richard Hudson first thing in the morning to get an appointment to have things checked out. Thinking about how mortifying it would have been if the cramps had hit her in the middle of lovemaking, she cringed. It was impossible to feel like a powerful, sexy woman when she spent half the date chained to the toilet.
When the bout was over, long minutes later, she changed into her pajamas. Even if Wyatt hadn’t fled, the tightness of her dress across her abdomen was unbearable, and she couldn’t stand wearing it a minute longer. “This is not how I expected this evening to end,” she told her reflection. Grateful for the strong fan in the bathroom, she lit a scented candle and headed back downstairs.
She was relieved to see that Wyatt was still there. He was pacing, his concern evident, and he hurried over to meet her at the bottom of the stairs. “Are you okay?”
Maria’s face felt as if it were on fire as she nodded. “I’m so sorry. My stomach is upset. You probably guessed that already.” She eased down onto the couch and pulled a small throw pillow over to her, hugging it against her belly.
Wyatt sat down beside her. “Do you think it was something you ate?”
“I don’t know. Unfortunately, this happens to me from time to time. I’m sorry. I didn’t expect the evening to turn out this way.”
He rubbed a soothing hand over her back. “Stop apologizing. It’s hardly your fault.”
She sighed, the ache starting to diminish. “That feels so good, I’ll pay you to not stop rubbing.”
He pressed a soft kiss to her neck. “No payment necessary. Turn around here and let me have more access, and I’ll rub you as long as you want.” He took off his jacket and shoes and sat back on the couch. Guiding her into his arms, he snuggled her against his chest and resumed the rubbing.
“I was so looking forward to getting more kisses.”
“You still can,” he assured her.
“No. I wouldn’t enjoy it as much now. It’s like eating cake when you have a cold. The idea is nice, but you just can’t enjoy the treat.” Maria felt him smile against her hair.
“Are you saying you enjoy my kisses?”
She snuggled a little closer, drawing her knees up toward her belly. “I adore your kisses.”
Wyatt tightened his hold for a minute. “Thank you. That’s nice to know.”
Something in the way he spoke made her pull back and look at him. She wasn’t expecting to see sadness on his face. “What’s wrong?” He tried to shrug it off, but she persisted. “Wyatt? Talk to me, please?”
“It’s nothing. Just… one of the points of contention in my marriage was my… lack of romantic skills, I guess you could say.” He cleared his throat. “I can’t believe I just told you that.”
She pulled back further in order to get a better look at his face. “You aren’t serious?”
He shrugged and looked toward the cold fireplace.
Shaking her head in disbelief, she reached out and touched his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “Your wife was a freaking idiot. This is embarrassing to admit, but your kisses? Wyatt, they do more for me than any intimacy I’ve ever had. That’s the God’s honest truth. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when we finally do make love. It’s almost too much to bear, and I mean that in a good way.”
Cupping his hand around hers, he kissed her palm. “Thank you.”
“Why? It’s the truth. How could she not love your kisses?”
He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “To be fair, I didn’t kiss her the way I kiss you. I’ve done some studying since she died.”
Maria raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, really? What kind of studying?”
He blustered for a few seconds, then said, “I read a few romance novels.”
She was stunned, and a chuckle escaped, despite her efforts to keep it in. “Romance novels? I know you’re kidding now.”
“No. I’m being perfectly honest. For kissing tips, I read romance novels. The rest of it, I’m hoping I learned from the really racy ones. All I can say is, thank God for eBooks because I’d have had to turn in my man card if I’d been caught reading books with those kinds of covers.” He grinned, but his cheeks and ears had flushed bright red.
She picked up on the one phrase she figured he hoped she wouldn’t. “You hope you learned? You haven’t tried with anyone?”
Sure enough, his flush deepened. “No. I haven’t had sex since two years before Julie died. You were embarrassed earlier about your stomach? Well, we’re even now, because I’m embarrassed to admit that.”
Maria touched his face with her fingertips. “Things really were bad between the two of you, weren’t they?”
“They were.”
Raising up, she kissed him softly. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. You deserve better.”
He smoothed her hair. “I guess I should go, let you get some rest.”
Every part of her protested. She rested her head on his shoulder, smoothing a hand across his chest. “Can’t you stay? I’m not up to making love, but we could hold each other. If you’re interested.”
Wyatt’s muscles tensed, and he tipped her head back. “Are you sure?”
“Hmm… Yeah. It would be boring for you, but we’d be together.”
He brushed a gentle kiss across her forehead. “Quiet, maybe, but not boring. I’d love to stay.”
“Good.” She snuggled back down into his arms. “I’m glad.”
Chapter Thirty
Wednesday night was bowling night. Maria, along with Stacy
, Neva Brewer, and Wyatt’s assistant, Gretchen, had formed an informal team a couple of years earlier. Though unable to meet every week, they made a point of not letting a month go by between get-togethers. Neva was the group’s leader, and she usually kept them all in stitches. She considered it one of her goals in life, she often said, to make sure her “girls” didn’t forget how to have fun. Tonight it appeared that she’d made Stacy her project for the week.
“So you’re interested in this man. Honey, ask him out. Worst he can do is say no,” Neva advised. “If I were twenty years younger, I’d chase him down myself.” The man she referred to was Galen Gordon, who had been in and out of the department since Monday, helping Maria with the extortion case.
Stacy groaned and turned to a pleading gaze to Maria. “Help me out here,” she begged as Neva stood to bowl.
Despite her amusement, Maria felt a pang of sympathy for her best friend. Extremely confident and competent in her role as detective, Stacy was almost painfully shy and awkward around men in social settings, especially if she was attracted to the man in question.
“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I agree with Neva. You should ask him out.”
Gretchen returned from a smoke break, her eyes wide with excitement. “Oh, my gosh! You guys, I just watched a take-down.”
Stacy immediately reached for her street shoes. “Where? What happened?”
“Out in the parking lot. But it’s under control now. The sheriff’s here, and Robbie Bailey.” Her cheeks were flushed as she told them about the arrest. “I guess some guy caught his wife doing the nasty in the bathroom with another man. In the bathroom! Can you believe it? The men ended up outside trying to kill each other.”
“I should still probably go see if they need anything,” Stacy said.
Maria on put her regular shoes, too. “I’ll join you. I could use a little fresh air.”
“Well, I’m staying in here unless it heats up again,” Neva said. “Don’t take too long out there. We still have a game to finish.”
As they hurried away, Stacy snorted. “You ‘need some air.’ That’s original.”
“What? It’s stuffy in here.”
“Air, my behind. I know why you’re tagging along, and he has nothing to do with fresh air.”
Maria sighed. “Okay, yeah. I want to see Wyatt. But I also want to find out about this fight. Call me paranoid, but it’s just the kind of trouble our extortionist likes to start.”
Pushing open the door, Maria glanced around, quickly spotting the ruckus. About twenty feet away, two sheriff’s department cruisers sat idling, Wyatt’s SUV behind them. As she watched, the cruisers moved out and the sheriff, who had been talking to the bowling alley’s manager, looked up and saw them. He escorted the manager to the door, stopping when the man continued on inside.
“Hey, ladies. What are you doing here?”
“Bowling night,” Stacy answered. “What happened?”
He threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “One woman, two men, too much alcohol. What can I say?”
Maria started to speak, but before she could open her mouth, a surge of nausea had her running to a nearby garbage can. She barely made it in time, and then she was emptying her stomach. She was glad her hair was tied back, because it was all she could do to hold on to the sides of the can while her stomach spasmed.
She felt Wyatt’s hand on her back, then heard him send Stacy inside for water and paper towels, but she couldn’t respond. When the episode was finally over, he guided her to the low wall around the alley’s landscaped beds.
Stacy returned and, using some of the water to dampen the paper towels, she gently wiped Maria’s face. “Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell us you were sick?”
Maria used the rest of the water to rinse her mouth. “Because I wasn’t. I felt fine, and then I—” Her words were cut off as a sharp pain lanced across her abdomen, settling like a hot poker in her right side. Crying out, she doubled over.
Wyatt was on his knees in front of her in an instant. “What’s wrong?”
She grabbed his arm. She couldn’t speak for a minute, then managed to gasp out, “Oh, dear God! It hurts. Make it stop.”
“Where?” he demanded.
“Right side.”
“That does it. You’re going to the hospital.” Before she could protest, he stood, gently disengaging her hand. “Stacy, stay with her. I’ll get my car.”
Stacy sat beside her, rubbing her back. “Hang in there, sweetie. We’ll get you some help. Just try to breathe through it.”
Very shortly, Wyatt pulled his SUV up to the curb. “Stacy, run inside and get her coat and purse while I put her in the backseat.”
He eased her up and onto her feet. “Sweetheart, I’m sorry, but you have to go to the hospital.” He brushed a hand over her hair, and Maria was surprised to feel it shaking.
“No, please. Wyatt, I’ll be okay. I’ve got an appointment to see Dr. Hudson tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not giving you a choice. I promise you, though—promise you—I won’t leave you alone. Do you hear me?”
Another pain shot through her side, less sharp, but still intense. “Swear it?”
“I swear on my mother’s grave.”
“Okay, then.”
Stacy returned just then with her belongings, Neva, and Gretchen in tow.
“I’ll ride in back with Maria,” Neva said. “The girls are going to follow us.” Moving carefully, Wyatt on one side, Neva on the other, they managed to get her to his SUV.
“Where’s the pain, honey?” Neva asked.
“My right side, just below my ribs. But my stomach’s killing me, too.”
They exchanged a look over her head. “Okay. Stacy, alert dispatch. Have them call the ER and let them know we’re coming.”
By the time she was inside the car, Maria was drenched in cold sweat from head to toe, but the middle of her body felt as though it were on fire. She was barely aware of the drive; she was in so much pain. For the first time since she was a child, she was actually eager to reach the hospital. The pain was unlike anything she had ever experienced, and she knew that whatever was causing it had to be serious. She didn’t think she could hurt much more and still live.
~ * * * ~
As Wyatt drove, it took everything in him to stay calm. In the thirty years he’d been in law enforcement, he’d been through his share of tense and emergency situations. Staying calm was part of the job. But with Maria in agony in the backseat, he felt completely out of control. He glanced in the rearview mirror, but couldn’t see much in the dark. “How’s she doing, Neva?”
“We’re hanging on back here. Just get us to the ER, and she’ll be okay.”
“Dear God, I hope you’re right.” To his relief, traffic had responded to the lights and siren and cleared out of the way, leaving the road to the hospital open. Within a handful of minutes, he was pulling under the portico at the emergency room. As soon as the vehicle stopped moving, hospital staff hurried over and opened the door.
“Maria!”
Maria groaned. “It would have to be you.”
The man smiled apologetically as he helped her into a wheelchair, and Wyatt recognized him as the man she’d been having dinner with at the Lighthouse the night of the Sterling abduction.
A woman in a white coat knelt down to quickly glance over Maria, then stood. “Let’s get you inside,” she said. She was the same doctor who had treated Ethan earlier in the year. “Hopefully you’re a better patient than the last one the sheriff brought me.”
Stacy and Gretchen rushed in behind them as they went through the double doors into the hospital.
“I have her purse. Do you want me to handle registration?” Stacy asked.
“We need to spend a few minutes getting her settled. You can take care of the paperwork while we do that, and we’ll let you know when someone can come back with her,” the doctor replied.
Maria shot out a hand and grabbed the doorfra
me. The chair jerked to a halt, and Wyatt could see the panic on her face. Hurrying over to her, he crouched down. Tears were streaming down her face, and she threw her arms around his neck. “Don’t let them take me.”
“Honey, it’s okay. I’m here.”
“Take me home.”
He swallowed, pulling back to see her face. “Love, that’s not going to happen. I’m sorry. They have to examine you.”
She shook her head violently. “Not without you.”
“Ma’am, he can go in with you, but we need to go now,” the doctor said. “Understand?”
When she clung to him even tighter, Wyatt scooped her out of the wheelchair and into his arms. With a muted grunt, he stood. “Where do you want us?”
Eyebrows raised, the doctor pointed to the trauma room. “On that bed.”
Carrying her into the room, he gently laid her on the bed. “See? I’m not going anywhere.”
Maria relaxed enough to unlock her hands from around his neck, and the doctor moved in on her other side.
“Let’s have you straighten out as much as you can. Tell me about this pain,” she said as she palpated Maria’s abdomen. “When did it start?”
“About twenty minutes ago. But I’ve had it off and on for a few months now. Never like this, though.” When the doctor pressed on the area below her ribs on the right side, she cried out and gripped Wyatt’s hand even tighter.
“What kind of pain has it been?”
“Sharp, but not. Like a lot of pressure, but angry. Does that make sense?”
“It does.” The doctor listened to Maria’s abdomen with her stethoscope. “Nausea, vomiting, diarrhea?”
Maria nodded. “Sometimes.”
Looking from Wyatt to Maria, she asked, “Any chance you’re pregnant?”
“No, none.”
“No chance at all?”
Wyatt answered, “Not yet.”
