Of Winged Creatures & Nesting Grounds: (A Quirky, Sexy, Dirty Doctor Romance)

by A. Wilding Wells

  A new white splotch. It’s spreading. It’s everywhere.

  “Happy,” I lean forward and whisper at her ear. Then I write that word on her skin and kiss it.

  Her fingers run through my hair as I linger. If only my lips could remain here for eternity. To be loved in this lifetime. I pull away, and she continues.

  “Next image.” Happy looks past me to the pile of photos on the table.

  I take the top one from the stack and study it. An image of her wearing all black, a raven mask covering her face.

  “That girl no longer exists,” she says. “Tell her goodbye.”

  My heart twists when I glance at her hand. “Mrs. Hardick?” I clutch her wrist, my gaze pinned on her wedding ring tattoo. Permanent?

  Pink rushes into her face when I stroke the tender underside of her wrist and my thumb touches the ring.

  “I told you I don’t do goodbyes. And you?”

  She reaches for my hand to examine my ring finger. Permanent. “Mr. Hardick.”

  Tears run down my face. My stomach flutters, my words caught in the web of my tightening throat.

  “But you aren’t mine at all,” she whispers and brings her fingertips to my cheek. “You have a wife, a child. You have a family.”

  “I do have a wife. Did you hear nothing I said that day? The woman I wanted abandoned me.” I lean in, my lips meeting the edge of her mouth.

  “Not in my heart, I didn’t. I never will, you’ll always be inside me.”

  I slip her dress over her arms then button the front. After grabbing her underwear and her bra, I lift her to her feet. She trembles as her fingers touch my mouth.

  I read her lips when she silently says, “I will always love you.”

  “I’m taking her,” I tell Bowie.

  A slow grin eats up his face.

  Music surrounds us as the beaded curtain dances over our faces when we pass through it, the scent of whiskey wafting through the air. Her fingers grip mine as we pass down a hall. With my hand on Happy’s lower back, we leave the bar, and cross the street.

  “There?” I point to a small boutique hotel.

  “Yeah, okay,” she whispers.

  After checking in, we enter the elevator, next to the lobby. I press Happy’s face to my chest, our hearts beating in rapid fire as the elevator rises.

  “Happy.” I kiss her head when she wraps her arms around my torso and sobs.

  Now in the room, with the door closed, and the love of my life pressed against me, we linger in a stare. A surreal dreamlike gaze, dancing with anticipation and magic.

  “What happened to us?” I ask.

  She bites her bottom lip, her eyes downcast, her hands behind her waist. “You have a family. That’s what.”

  She still doesn’t know. With my hands holding her shoulders in place, I run my cheek alongside hers. “You aren’t hearing me. I have a child and a wife, but she’s apparently not who you think she is.”

  “Then who is she?” Tears run down her face, both of us catching them on our lips.

  I lean into her neck, the scent of her my future. With her chin in my fingertips, I pepper her face with kisses then whisper, “She was you since the day I made you mine.”

  Pinching her eyebrows together, she sniffles and asks, “Which day was that?” Her eyes glisten, and her voice breaks. The soft velvet I know it to be, hoarse and filled with emotion. “Was it the day you made a sad girl breakfast at midnight or the day your lips met hers? Or the day you asked me to be your wife for twenty-four hours, which was stolen as fast as it had been agreed to?”

  “It was all of them,” I say, and our lips meet in a soft kiss. Light teasing, licks, and nibbles. “But you left me. I never wanted Sela when she came that day, I only wanted you.”

  When she moans, my body turns inside out. As she runs her hands through my hair, our mouths widen and our tongues collide. Wet, deep, frantic kisses. What kisses should be. I make love to her mouth, need pulsing as heat spreads through me. She arches off the wall, and my stiff cock begs for release. I travel her neck, sucking and kissing. I kneel, and in a frenzy, I open the front of her dress. She gasps as I kiss between her breasts.

  “Hunt,” she cries as I take a hungry swipe across both breasts, shoving them together, too greedy for patience.

  “I found your notebook in the fire. You crossed off virginity,” I say, opening the last of her buttons.

  After hooking one of her legs over my shoulder then kissing her soft inner thigh, I open and lick her center. She fists my hair as I groan and tenderly suck her sweetness, burying my face to devour her. My hunger and the urgency twists my nerves into knots over what’s been killing me, what I need to know. Her tiny hips pulse against my tongue, her heaving chest, her moans leaving me desperate.

  “Tell me you didn’t give it to Tuck.”

  She sweeps a hand down her jaw and drops it onto my cheek, her knuckles brushing me. “What do I mean to you?”

  I stand to meet her gaze, our faces centimeters apart, lips feathering lips, her sweet womanly taste lingering. “Everything that would complete me. Would you want to be that? Would you be able to trust me enough to give me your love?”

  She unbuttons my shirt as I sweep her dress off her shoulders. And, even though she’s said nothing in response to my question, her stare never leaves mine. I grab her petite wrists as they work to open my jeans, my erection escaping the top band of my briefs. I shove the briefs down my legs.

  “Tell me: Are you mine?” I ask.

  Happy picks her dress off the floor. I yank it from her hands before tossing it onto the leather couch.

  I haul her to the bed. “On your back.”

  With my hands on her hips, she sits then leans back. I climb over her, and dip my mouth to her nipples.

  “Spread your legs.” I push her thighs back. “There. Oh fuck, that sweet silk. Christ, to watch you come all over my hand again.”

  She mewls as her body seizes, and her slipperiness coats my fingers. I pull them out and drag them up her stomach before circling her breasts with wetness.

  “I’m going to take what’s mine regardless of your silence. Stop me now if you need to. Because, once I’m inside you, no other man will have that privilege.”

  I wait for her to say no, don’t. For her to tell me she’s not mine. For her to say she’s in love with another man. Tormenting myself, I stroke my cock, dragging the tip along her slit. Her throat bobs as she reaches between my legs, takes me in her hand, and guides my throbbing head into her tight, wet heat. She whimpers as I sink in a few inches.

  “Happy, take a deep breath. Fuck. Just a little more, a little deeper.” Gripping her shoulders, I immerse myself. I slow my hips, my balls tingling while she rocks against me. “Tell me this means something to you.”

  Her chest heaves as breathy pants that feel like prizes quake out of her. “I’m yours,” she whispers. It’s a sinful, low voice, a dirty, disturbingly hot-as-hell thing to hear.

  I bury myself deep, jerking as she strokes my back. Every sensation hammers into me.

  “Mine?” I press my forehead to hers, my mouth twisting into a smile. “You’re perfect.” I groan, my thrusts deepening. I push her knees back and apart and penetrate farther, my sense of urgency igniting the flame of every last nerve inside me.

  She gasps as I push—maybe too deep, too fast. “You okay?”

  Her mouth contorts with pleasure. She arches her back, and tips her head, her eyes closed as she mouths, “I love you,” in silence.

  “I love you too.”

  Nothing could stop her writhing and the way she grips my arms, digging into them as if her life depends on it. I don’t think I’ve seen a woman orgasm more beautifully. Not noisy and not quiet, just complete. And, as my orgasm chases hers, I feel the way she sounded. Complete.

  But will she stay when I tell her?

  Chapter 57

  Birds of a feather...

  Happy

  Hunt, who I’ve dreamt about every nig
ht since I left him, who I thought was gone forever, who never married Sela, who is raising his son alone, is back. How will I fit into his life now?

  We go to his house for a drink, stopping first in his son’s nursery. When he lifts Hugo from his crib, the baby makes a soft cooing noise as Hunt cuddles him in his arms. My ovaries explode as a smile creases his face when he stares down at Hugo then up to me. My heart gives a leap in response as my hands press against my belly.

  “Oh my goodness. He’s lovely.” I stroke Hugo’s downy head. “You’re beautiful with him. I didn’t think you could get any more beautiful.”

  “Oh, but I could.” He laces his fingers with mine and rubs along my ring tattoo.

  He’s been the one to rush into everything about us, but suddenly, I want that too. And maybe it’s crazy. But, after almost two months of living with him in my mind, he feels like home. Like someone I want to spend my life with.

  “She’s gone? You really said goodbye? That’s not your thing, and this is her baby.”

  “I really said goodbye. And she has no interest in him.”

  We walk into a jewel-box-like library. A tiny space covered in books that smell musty and inviting. On the far side of the room, a smallish bar is complete with a bevy of bourbon-laden glass shelves. He maneuvers his way around, pouring both of us a glass, holding Hugo in one arm as if he’s held him his whole life. He’s not beautiful—he’s everything good. And he’s meant to be mine.

  Hunt slides a blue crystal snifter across the bar. “Actually, just water for me, sorry I should’ve—”

  “You sure?”

  I nod, and he reaches under the bar and fills a glass, then hands it to me.

  “I signed the paperwork when he was two weeks old for sole parental guardianship. The day Hugo was born, I think she wanted to harm him, knowing full well I’d jump in to save him. How could I not?” He kisses Hugo’s golden hair.

  “Her bloodstream was flooded with drugs and booze that day.”

  “Is he okay?” I ask as we slump onto the couch. I lean over and sniff Hugo’s tiny head. The sweet smell of him. Baby and Hunt.

  “Yeah. He’s doing great. Even sleeps through the night, which isn’t too common at this age, according to my motherly sisters.”

  “Can I hold him?”

  “Of course.” The corners of his eyes crinkle. A smile full of love fills his face.

  And, if my insides weren’t mush before, they are now.

  He rubs his nose against Hugo’s. Then against mine when he lays him in my arms. He tucks a pillow under my arm, as if I might let him roll off my lap.

  “Those first few days terrified me,” he says as he rubs the back of his neck. “I thought, well, fuck. I thought I was going to lose all three of you.”

  “Quite a birthday present,” I whisper. I study the baby’s petal-pink, closed eyelids.

  Hunt runs a finger along the fat, tiny dimples on the back of Hugo’s hand. Then he closes his big hands around mine and Hugo’s. My heart skips then races.

  “Yeah, not exactly what I was expecting. Speaking of birthdays, I noticed on your medical chart yours is coming up.”

  I raise my brow. “And you were looking at my medical chart because?”

  “Because I missed you terribly.” He wraps his fingers under my chin. “I was looking for any way to connect to you. I’m helplessly in love. Can you blame me?”

  “Why’d you get the tattoo?” I ask.

  “I was calling in miracles.” His lips feather my ear. His breath is warm as he nibbles it, which causes my stomach to clench. “Sending a love letter to the world, hoping it would find you and bring you back. Why did you get yours?” His whisper comes out throaty and spilling over with passion.

  “I needed a forever with you, even if you weren’t the one to give it to me. I bought into you. You sank your hook and caught me, and just when you were reeling me in… Damn that day. But how can I curse it when I’m holding this sweet child? This beautiful part of you.”

  He groans and adjusts himself, grabbing his obvious arousal.

  “Do you still need that?” he asks. “A forever with me?”

  “You must think I’m crazy. When we met, I wanted nothing of you. Well, not nothing, but, very little.” I chuckle.

  He moves closer to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

  “Then I ran from you but wanted you forever. I’m a contradiction a second.”

  “You’re an ever-evolving bloom, and I’ve known this all along.” He scoops Hugo out of my arms, motioning for me to follow him as he stands.

  “And what you did tonight,” he says, looking back at me for a few seconds. “That performance, tying your past to who you’ve become, just proves my point.”

  “Were you as afraid as I was?” I ask as we walk into Hugo’s nursery. “I saw your ring, and all I envisioned was you and your family. I wanted to die.”

  He lays Hugo down then kisses his face. As we walk out of the nursery, he wraps an arm around me and says against my neck, “I saw your ring, and all I felt was envy for the man who took you from me.”

  I envied Sunny for having taken Sebastian from me, envied that she had given him a child and love. And, while the two of them took things from me, they gave me things too. It might have taken me years to figure these things out, but I now know that all the plans in the world don’t add up to a hill of beans when fate wants to get her way. Now, I know that fear is something to conquer and embrace, because inside it hides our personal truths. I know that some people belong to you, and figuring out who they are and how long it’s for isn’t really a choice we get to make. Love and people will thrust in and out of our lives in all forms, and just when we think our timeline is in our control, another shift comes.

  “Stay?” Hunt says, leading me into his bedroom. “And not just tonight. Do you want that?”

  “Yes,” I answer, my heart brimming with love. Even if I have no idea what tomorrow will be, I want this now. Him.

  As we slip out of our clothes to make love again, I silently mouth the two words I said while standing in a meadow pretending to be his wife. Maybe I’ll say them again down the road as we navigate who we’ll become.

  “I do.”

  Chapter 58

  Eight-letter word for in-combination *together

  HUNT

  Post round three, of the most intense lovemaking connection I’ve ever had, I nuzzle Happy’s neck, my insides buzzing, every sensation leaping in bounds of hope for an “us.” All of us. But she needs to know.

  “I want to tell you something, and I hope I won’t disappoint you.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible. And I should share something first. I’m, I don’t know how to say this...”

  My throat muscles tighten in anticipation. “Tell me.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “Is it Tuck?”

  “No, it’s you. It’s only ever been you. You were my first tonight. I thought you understood.”

  I squish my temples as she moves away from me a few inches. “You’re making no sense. You were a virgin until tonight, but you’re pregnant?”

  With wide eyes, she takes a deep breath. “In the shower, with the ice cream.”

  “Happy. I’m infertile,” I blurt out. “You don’t need to lie to me. It’s okay. I still love you, and Jesus, I’ll love your child as my own, just as I have Hugo.”

  “Infertile? Wait, what?” She shakes her head, her brow pinched as she sits up and pokes at me. “No, no. You don’t understand. I’ve never, not ever, been with anyone but you.”

  “Please don’t do this to me. Sela played this card, told me the baby was mine. But I know damn well he’s Tuck’s. I know.”

  Her eyes glisten, proud and full of purpose. “Are you hearing me? I haven’t ever been with anyone else. I’m almost two months pregnant. I just found out two days ago.”

  “But the sperm in your freezer?”

  “No! I only tried the turkey baster method a few times
before I had my appointment with you.”

  My world stops as she moves away. I could give her everything she wants—except this. I can never be the father of her children.

  “Happy, listen to me. I had mumps when I was a kid, and my first year in college, a bunch of us donated sperm for cash. But mine was, well… They said it would never happen for me. My sperm count is unrealistic for pregnancy odds. I could never be an option for anyone. That’s how I knew when Luella called. And I knew when Sela lied. And I know now. Just, please, don’t.”

  “Hunt, with all my heart, I am telling you. The child in my womb is yours. And maybe Hugo is yours as well. And why, for fuck’s sake, are you wearing that pathetic look on your face? It’s like you’re giving up. Have I taught you nothing about flying?”

  Our fingers entwine, and with my heart running amok, I ask through a cracked voice, “You’ve never?”

  “Not since we met. Not even a kiss. Well, besides pushing Tuck away when he tried for a kiss,” she says, rolling her eyes but smiling. “Not a whisper. Not a look. You’re it. And this kid is ours, shmoop!”

  I don’t know how fast my heart zips or how swiftly my limbs fly around Happy. But I do know this. Even though I’ve tried to help every soul that crossed my path, no one has ever helped me the way Happy Go Lucky has. Happy, with her Christmas light charm, and perfectly planned-out future, her ever-changing skin condition and impossible-to-solve, puzzling ways. All this time, I thought I was the one helping her.

  Chapter 59

  Twinkle. Shine. Sparkle.

  Happy

  Six months later~ Wyoming

  A smile spreads across my face as I cradle my giant belly. Our first Christmas in the newly rebuilt cottage at the ranch. New memories for all of us. Snow blankets the yard, and dead roses bow their heads under weighty, glistening layers as Hunt positions a statue in the garden. A one-winged bird? I gasp, my throat tightening as my eyes prickle.

  After draping her with colorful Christmas lights, he treks through the snow and stomps up the stairs.

  “Where did you find her?” I ask as he clomps his feet, puddles quickly forming under his boots. “I have a tiny snow globe in my purse that’s so similar.”