I didn’t want him to do the surgery because I didn’t want them going in there again when they had reassured us the first time that they had gotten everything and they hadn’t. I felt as if he should’ve tried option B, which was go through chemo first and see if it shrank, but Tom was a head strong type, believing in the doctor’s opinion.
Exactly six months and two days after saying ‘I do’ to my high school sweetheart I said our normal goodbye of “See ya later” and kissed his lips for the last time; watching as they wheeled him down the hallway and behind the locked doors into the OR wing. I sat there with his parents and sister, along with a few friends, for hours; just waiting and hoping. Praying that this would work this time, but I knew as soon as the scrub clad doctor walked in with the solemn look on his face that the news he was going to deliver wasn’t good.
My Tom, my heart, had died of a massive aneurysm in his brain while they were operating. They couldn’t explain how or why a blood clot reached his brain, he was on all types of thinners and such, but it did and he died at 4:15 that afternoon. I didn’t believe it at first; what woman would when they’ve been told their husband is dead? I told the doctor he was a liar, he had told me that everything was going to be fine, and I screamed in his face that this was his fault. I had stormed out of that hospital waiting room and ran to my car, collapsing into the driver’s seat of my shitty little Escort and crying until I couldn’t cry anymore; until my head felt like it was going to explode from the pain.
I buried him next to his grandparents and said goodbye to his family, leaving Norfolk for Waverly and never really visiting anyone but my parents. They say that the Coleman’s ask about me when their paths cross, but I don’t ever call them or stop by their house; it’s just too hard for me still. It’s almost seven years later and I have yet to go on a date with another man. I just can’t do it. And yes, sometimes I turn to prescription drugs to handle with drowning in my memories, because I can’t be strong all the time. But I am trying to turn my shit around.
“Hey girl,” the smooth yet scratchy, deep voice comes from my right and I lift my stare to look right into those baby blues of Austin French. This man does something to me and I try to deny it, but it’s hard. I feel that if I start something with someone, Austin French for instance, it’ll be like throwing the memory of Tom in the trash; spitting on his grave if you will and I can’t do that. Tom molded me into the woman that I am and I want to remember him for all of my life.
“You look like you’re thinkin’ awfully hard,” he says, throwing his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side. He doesn’t know what his touch does to me, setting me on fire in way I’ve never felt, but we are friends and he knows that’s what we’ll be for now, so I lean into him. He smells like Old Spice and cigars, the men enjoying a celebratory smoke at the wedding, and I take in a deep breath of Austin French, letting him linger on my senses.
“Yeah; jus’ wondering ‘bout how long she’s gonna be in there.” I nod my head down the hall to the delivery wing and hear his light chuckle beside me, his arm squeezing me. Looking up at him, I take in his handsome face and features, including the defined body I know is hiding beneath his blue dress shirt and khaki shorts.
He has light brown hair with greys mixed throughout, being mid-thirties, and his facial hair is trimmed to a short length along his jaw and up into a mustache. I wonder what he looks like without facial hair. More yet, I wonder what that facial hair would feel like brushing along the insides of my thighs.
Wait, what? Where did that come from? I shake my head clear and he doesn’t notice it, which is good because I really couldn’t explain to him why I’m blushing right now without stammering out a lie.
“Come on, girl,” he says, pulling me back inside the waiting room and over to a chair that has his light jacket draped over it, “sit with me and watch some TV. No sense in standin’ when you’ve been standin’ most of the day in the heat.”
He motions for me to sit and leaves me for the vending machine, coming back with two ginger ales which is my favorite. He gives me a wink as I take one from him and he plops down beside me, throwing his arm over the back of my chair. I subconsciously find myself leaning into him whenever he does this because I just feel safe around him and I sit back and relax, watching re-runs of Walker on the TV and drinking my ginger ale; forgetting for a moment all of those memories this hospital dredged up, all because I’m near him.
I don’t know how long we’ve sat here but when a rushing figure comes darting in the room, I notice my head is leaning on his shoulder and Austin’s hand is resting down near my elbow and over my back. I straighten in my seat but don’t shake his touch as Bobby’s heaving breathing runs through the now silent waiting room.
“A seven pound boy and six pound girl. Both healthy and happy along with their mama!” The smile on his face could make anyone’s heart sing and I can’t help but laugh happily when the room bursts into cheers and congratulations. Rhea hugs me on her way by, kissing Austin on the cheek; and I don’t know why, but I lean in for a hug from him, too. As he leans in, I hug him tight and move to kiss his cheek, but he does the same and our lips meet.
It’s like time is frozen around us and no one else is there. His kiss is warm and inviting, begging me to give him more even though his lips are as still as mine, suffering shock. I can see myself closing my eyes and losing myself in his touch, giving in to all of these naughty little thoughts that are running through my mind. But I place my hands on his cheeks and push him back slowly, breaking our lips apart.
“Ah…I don’t know what…I’m…ah…I’m sorry.” I stammer out, feeling the blush fill my entire body and my heart is threatening to beat up and out through my mouth it’s going so fast. I take a handful of deep breaths before I can look up at him slowly; the passion and fire in the blue of his eyes taking my breath right away in a second.
“I’m not sorry,” is all he says, kissing me on the cheek and standing to join the others, leaving me in a state of shock.
“Well then,” I whisper to myself, straightening my dress and trying to regain my composure. I can’t deny it, though, my heart hasn’t beat this fast in years and it’s quite thrilling.
!!BOOK 5 COMING LATE 2014!!
Other works by this Author
Paranormal Romance:
The Broadus Supernatural Society Series
Book 1: Siofra’s Song
Book2: Siofra’s Nightmare
Book 3: Siofra’s Change
Book 4: Siofra’s Fight
Book 5: Rowena’s Revenge
Contemporary Romance/Military Romance:
The Wakefield Romance Series
Book 1: Two Weeks With a SEAL
Book 2: Coming Home
Book 3: I Never Asked You To Save Me
Book 4: Take Me Home
Book 5: Somebody’s Chelsi: Coming Late 2014
Historical Romance
The Viking Dreams Series
Book 1: We Roam The Seas
Book 2: A Rose in Winter: Coming Soon
Contemporary Erotica Romance
The Fire Inside Series Co-Authored by Chelsea Camaron
Book 1: Kale: Coming Soon
The Desert Ghosts Series
Book 1: Ricochet: Coming Soon
Take Me Home: Book 4 The Wakefield Romance Series Page 17
