by T L Swan
“Okay, so I’m going to open up the same scar.”
“Yep,” Ben replies calmly.
“Is it going to hurt?” I ask.
“A little,” Cam mutters as he puts on a pair of gloves, completely distracted by the task at hand. He runs his thumb up and over the scar as he feels for the chip. ‘’How long has this been here?” he asks as he concentrates.
“Six years,” Ben says flatly.
“Why you taking it out now?”
Ben’s eyes flicker to me. “I told you already.”
Cam’s eyes flash up and then he smiles broadly. “You want it out, Didge?”
“Damn straight, I do. I don’t trust this shit,” I snap.
Cam frowns as he cuts into Ben’s arm, and blood starts to trickle. “I would want it out, too.” He cuts deeper and the blood starts to run. He wipes it with the gauze.
I feel the blood start to drain from my face and my feet go tingly. I don’t feel so good. “Oh, jeez,” I whisper.
“Wait outside,” Ben orders.
Cam gets some long tweezers and starts to dig around in the cut. Ben winces.
“Is that hurting?” I whisper.
Ben doesn’t answer and Cam really gets in there with the tweezers. “I can’t seem to grab it.” He struggles as he tries to pull it.
I feel faint. “Oh, my God. This is horrible.”
Cam narrows his eyes as he really digs deep into the cut.
I cringe and close my eyes for my poor Ben.
“Shit,” Cam whispers.
“What?”
“I don’t think I can get it out.”
“What? Why?” I frown.
“I think it’s attached to the bone.”
“Cut if off,” Ben replies calmly.
Huh? My eyes widen as I watch on.
Cut it off? Cut what off?
Cam narrows his eyes as he digs deeper, and Ben’s eyes close as his body flinches from Cameron’s tugging.
Blood streams down his arm from the wound. Cam casually wipes it up with gauze.
More blood. More tugging. More… Oh, boy.
Blood trickles down into the gauze.
Cameron picks up the scalpel again and my legs turn to jelly.
“I’m going to have to scrape the bone a little to try and loosen it. Do you need something to bite down on?” Cameron asks.
“I’m good,” Ben replies calmly.
I look at the scalpel with the blood dripping from it, and begin to feel ill.
Oh… hell.
Cameron goes back in and Ben clenches his jaw as he looks straight ahead.
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
“Yep,” Ben replies, stony and still.
Of course, he’s okay. He’s not a yellow-bellied, weak-stomached wimp like you.
I clench my teeth to try and focus on supporting Ben.
“I’m fine,” I whisper.
Ben’s eyes meet mine and a frown crosses his brow. “You okay, Didge?”
“I’m… I’m fine,” I stammer.
Cam lifts the scalpel again and wipes the blood off the blade with the gauze.
My stomach turns.
Oh, dear God. I feel the blood drain from my head and the room starts to spin.
“Wait outside, Bridget,” Ben demands.
Cam screws up his face as he digs around the cut with force.
I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m… I’m… so not fine.
I hit the floor with a thud.
“Fuck,” Cameron snaps. “Keep still until I gauze you,” I hear Cameron’s foggy voice.
Next thing I know, I’m being lifted onto the lounge in the office by Ben’s strong arms.
“You okay?” he whispers softly as he wipes the hair from my forehead.
I nod and go to sit back up. “Oh, hell,” I whisper, embarrassed.
“Stay there, Bridget,” Cameron snaps. “You get back in the chair, Ben,” he orders.
Ben squeezes my hand and goes back to his operating chair. I stay on the lounge. Cam lifts the scalpel again. “Oh, God,” I cry.
“Cover your eyes, Bridget, for fuck’s sake,” Cameron snaps.
I grab the cushion and hold it over my face as my heart begins to race.
Ben hisses.
I screw up my face. “Are you all right?” I mumble from behind my cushion.
I peek around the corner of it to see Cameron digging in the cut with tweezers with all his strength, and I slap the cushion back over my face. “Hurry up, Cameron. I can’t stand it anymore,” I cry.
“Shut. Up. Bridget,” Ben snaps.
The room falls silent. Ben inhales sharply. ”Got it,” Cameron announces proudly.
I flop back onto the lounge in relief. “Oh, thank God,” I whisper.
“You’re going to need a few stitches, mate,” Cam replies as he sticks his finger into the wound.
I sit up, my eyes suddenly wide again. “You’re going to stich him without anaesthetic?”
“It’s fine, Bridget.” Ben sighs. “Just do it, Cam.”
I lie back down.
I feel faint again. I throw the back of my forearm over my eyes. This isn’t good. I would make a terrible nurse.
“So, you two are going back to Australia now?” Cam asks. How he can just make a casual conversation as he plays with raw, bleeding human flesh is beyond me.
“No, we’re headed home to my place for a week or so,” Ben replies.
I peek over to see Cam concentrating as he pulls the thread through Ben’s skin with the tweezers, and I slap the cushion back over my eyes.
This is fucking hell. I’m wet with perspiration. How long is this torture going to last? “How on earth do you do this job, Cam?” I call.
He shrugs. “It comes naturally. I kind of always liked blood and guts. It fascinates me.”
I get a vision of him cutting through organs with a scalpel and feel myself go woozy again. “Can you not talk about guts please?” I stammer.
They both laugh.
Finally, I hear the words I’ve been waiting for.
“All done.”
Ben looks over to me, and laughs. “You’re green.”
“Really?” I sigh. “I feel kind of yellow at the moment.”
Cam smiles. “You’re that, too.” He passes a specimen jar to Ben with the microchip inside. The two of them eye it suspiciously
“It’s bigger than I thought.” Ben frowns.
“It was a tricky fucker to get out, that’s for sure,” Cam replies. “You will be a bit sore for a few days. I had to dig pretty deep.”
“Enough!” I cry. “I can’t deal with this anymore.”
Ben laughs as he stands and walks over to me. “You, Bridget Marx, are a bona fide wimp.”
“Happily,” I mutter under my breath. “You could not pay me enough to be a heart surgeon, Cameron.”
Cameron smiles cheekily. “Hearts are better. They pump as you cut them.”
My eyes widen in horror as I get a visual, and the guys both laugh out loud.
“Can we call a cab, please?” I ask. “I’m tired, and completely grossed out.”
“I’m on my way out. I’ll drop you at your hotel,” Cameron offers.
“You got a date?” I ask.
“I have to go into work for a while.”
“Are you lying to me?”
“No.” He smiles, and throws his arm around my shoulders as we walk up the hall.
“I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth.”
“But you totally love me, right?” He knocks our heads together as we walk.
“Speaking of love… when are you going to fall in love, Cam?” I mutter dryly.
He chuckles. “Ha. Love. Don’t be stupid. I’m here for a good time, not a long time. Love is my worst nightmare.”
“Didge?” Ben’s soft voice murmurs into the darkness.
I blink as I try to focus. I look around the room in a rush. “Huh? What?”
It’s dark, and the ba
throom light shines into our room.
Ben is completely dressed, and our bags are by the door. My clothes are laid out on the end of the bed. “What’s going on?” I ask.
“Nothing, babe. Our flight leaves at 6:00 a.m.”
“Are you serious? I’m so tired, Ben. I need to sleep.”
“I know, angel. We need to go home.”
I lie still for a moment and try to focus my eyes. “I can hardly remember coming back here last night.” I sigh.
“You fell asleep in the car,” he murmurs as he flicks the kettle on for me. “I had to put you to bed like a child.”
“I’ve been traveling a lot. I can’t take it anymore. The thought of flying… ugh!” I put my hands over my eyes. “Can’t we just go tomorrow?” I plead.
“This was the only flight I could get us on, Didge.” He bends and kisses me softly on the lips. Then again and again. Eventually, I smile and throw my arms around his neck. “That’s more like it. Come back to bed,” I whisper.
“Didge.” He pulls out of my grip. “We have to go. We can spend a week in bed once we get to Washington.”
I blow out a deflated breath and tear the blankets back angrily. “You’re really beginning to piss me off,” I snap as I get out of bed.
He smiles.
“What’s funny?”
“You when you’re tired.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I growl.
“Nothing.” He widens his eyes to accentuate his point.
I put my hands on my hips. “What do you mean, nothing?”
“You get this snarky attitude when you’re tired.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I do not.” I pull my fingers through my rat-nest hair. “I do, however, have vivid fantasies of drowning you in a hotel bathtub.”
He chuckles. “And here we have exhibit A.”
I turn to him. “Ben.”
He smiles cheekily and raises a brow. “Yes, Bridget?”
“If you want to survive this plane trip to Washington today, it’s probably best you don’t speak.”
He smiles. His eyes have a delighted twinkle to them, and I narrow my own to stop myself from smiling.
“Whatever you say, dear,” he replies.
I put my hands on my hips. “Are you patronizing me now?”
He stands in a rush and takes me into his arms and kisses me softly. “I wouldn’t dare,” he whispers.
I smile against his lips. “Good,” I murmur as I wrap my arms around his strong shoulders. “Because I don’t want to hurt you.”
He laughs and holds me close. “Because you are so badass when it comes to blood, right?”
I smile against his lips. I don’t even have a reply for that one. He’s totally got me.
“I’ve missed you, Didge,” he whispers.
We stand for a moment in each other’s arms, and I could just fall asleep right here standing up.
I pull out of his grip. “Can you make me some coffee while I shower, please?”
“Yes, make it quick.” He snorts.
I glance at the clock. 4:00 a.m. I widen my eyes at him. “Don’t dare rush me. It isn’t even morning yet.” I walk into the bathroom and close the door behind me. I’m so delirious, I can hardly focus my eyes. I wonder if he’d notice if I slept for another ten minutes on the shower floor.
He comes into the bathroom and turns the shower on. “In…” he commands.
“Out,” I snap as I point to the door.
Man, he is pissing me off.
We wait in the cab line at Washington airport. I’ve slept most of the way and I feel kind of human again. I go to grab Ben’s hand, but he subtly pulls it out of my grip.
“Why won’t you hold my hand?” I ask.
He glances at me and rolls his eyes. “I’m not really a holding-hands kind of guy.”
“Since when?”
“When have you ever known me to hold your hand?”
I frown as I try to think. “Come to think of it, never. You don’t ever hold my hand.”
He kisses me quickly on the lips and fakes a smile. “My point exactly.”
I cross my arms. “I like holding hands.”
He glances around at our surroundings, distracted. “Yeah, well, I don’t.”
“Hmm,” I huff. “I’m finding out annoying stuff about you.” Funnily enough, Ben and I haven’t really spent a lot of time together just being normal. We’ve either snuck around or been together as friends. It’s nice to finally get to know all the different sides of him.
“Like what?” he mutters as he moves our bags forward in the line.
“Well…” I continue. “You don’t sleep on planes.”
A trace of a smile crosses his face. “That’s because you snore on planes and it’s impossible for me to sleep.”
My mouth falls open. “I do not.”
He smirks and I smile. Okay, maybe I do. I wouldn’t put it past me. God, I need to cut that shit out.
“You have a very high pain tolerance,” I add.
He looks straight ahead as he listens to my latest discoveries.
“You’re very neat…” I continue.
He looks down at me and raises an eyebrow in question.
“You think I don’t notice that you fold all my clothes?” I ask.
He smiles sexily, and I feel it all the way to my bones.
“You are a complete sex maniac.” I raise my eyebrows sarcastically.
“No, I’m addicted to you and your body. Sex has nothing to do with it.”
“Hmm,” I grunt as I shrug. “Sure.” I roll my eyes, too.
“I’ve found out a few things about you this week, too,” he replies.
“Like what?” I bite my bottom lip to stifle my smile. I like this game.
“You hate blood,” he continues.
I listen attentively.
“You’re cranky when you’re tired.”
“Truth,” I mouth.
“You don’t drink enough water.”
I frown. That’s a weird one.
His eyes hold mine. “You have the most beautiful smile I have ever seen.”
My heart swells.
“And I could eat you up and swallow you whole.”
I smile on cue. “And you do.”
The air crackles between us. I want to hear everything he has to say. “What else did you learn about me this week?” I whisper in wonder.
He puts his pointer under my chin to bring my face up to his. “I can’t live without you.”
A broad, goofy smile crosses my face, and I want to swing my arms with glee.
I raise my eyebrow. “Are you saying that I’m a cranky, dehydrated, edible, snoring, wimpy, lifesaver?” I whisper.
He laughs out loud and shakes his head. “Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.”
He puts his hand on my behind and pulls me towards him, and we kiss softly. “Who I happen to love,” he whispers.
“Oh, God, get a room,” the girl behind us moans.
Ben bites his bottom lip as he smiles cheekily down at me. I turn around and throw the stupid bitch a dirty look. Don’t interrupt my moment, you mole.
Not today.
I will cut you.
I wake with a smile on my face, and roll onto my side toward him.
I’m floating…high above the clouds.
Drunk on love.
Ben is naked and on his back. Still sleeping. I get up and make some coffee and go to the bathroom. I grab my phone and go back to bed to read.
“Good morning, angel,” he whispers as he wraps his arms around me.
I kiss his lips softly. “How did my man sleep?”
“Like a log.” He smiles with his eyes closed. “You?”
“Not like a log.” I smirk. “More like a branch.”
He chuckles.
I run my hand up over his broad shoulders, up to his neck as I watch him.
He licks his lips, as if contemplating something.
“What is i
t?” I smile.
“We have a ball on tonight.”
I frown. “A ball?”
“At the White House.” He rolls onto his back and pulls my body half over his. “A lot of important people will be there who I need to see. I can try and find out some information about those two agents and their whereabouts.”
I listen with my head on his chest.
“Will you come with me?”
I look up at him and smile. “You asking me on a date?”
He slides his hand down over my behind and squeezes. “Maybe, but there’s a catch.”
“A catch?”
He licks his bottom lip and hesitates.
“Spit it out.” I smile.
“You have to pretend to be my wife.”
I frown. “What?”
“I’m only allowed to tell my spouse about my work. It’s policy.”
I watch him for a moment. “So, you’ve never told another woman who you really are?”
He shakes his head softly. “Only women I meet through work know what I do.”
I lie back and put my hands behind my head, internally thrilled that I know him better than anyone else. “Then I suppose I can pretend to be your wife for one night,” I reply, acting bored.
He smiles and rolls on top of me, between my legs. He lifts his body so that his hard length slides up onto my stomach.
“How long have we been married?” I ask.
“Two months.” He pushes forward, and I close my eyes as he connects with my clitoris.
“Hmm, that feels good.” I smile. “Where did we get married?”
“In a registry office.”
I frown and pull back to look at his face. “What? Why did we get married in a registry office?”
His face falls a little before he quickly recovers. “Because my family couldn’t come to the wedding,” he replies.
Oh… shit. What a dick thing for me to ask.
I kiss him softly on his big, beautiful lips, and I smile softly. “A registry office sounds perfect.”
He climbs out of bed and goes over to the shelves in his room. He opens a small wooden box and takes something out of it. He’s completely naked and I smile as I watch him—the epitome of male perfection. Large, muscular, in control, and he’s all mine. I am one lucky bitch.
He comes back and sits on the side of the bed. “You’ll need to wear this.” He holds up a ring. I frown and he takes my hand, sliding the gold band onto my ring finger.
