by Megan Green
The man turns to leave without waiting for a response. His curt tone and troubled demeanor set off a million alarm bells in my head. Before he can get more than a few steps away, my hand closes around his upper arm. His eyes meet mine, confusion mingling with the concern already present. I try to think of something to say, anything to explain why I stopped him in this abrupt manner, but the words don’t come. After a few seconds of silence, his gaze drops to where I’m still gripping him before returning to my face, the confusion evaporating and irritation taking its place.
“Can I help you?” he bites out, his tone thick with the indication he’d rather do anything but help me. His eyes narrow, and something tells me he’s about two seconds away from shaking me off and getting as far away from me as fast as he can. My fingers tighten their hold. This asshole isn’t going anywhere until he tells me what the fuck is going on with Jim.
“Stone. What’s going on?” My words are clipped. He’s not the only one irritated. I’ve never taken nicely to people who try to dismiss me. Not even now.
The doctor shakes his head. “I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to discuss that with anyone but the next of kin.” His tone softens slightly, a hint of pity seeping through the irritation still evident on his face.
Next of kin? What the fuck does that mean? They only need to speak with next of kin when…
My thoughts trail off, unable to even entertain the notion. I pull the doctor slightly toward me, knowing damn well my size can be intimidating in close proximity. I square my shoulders, my jaw clenching as I look down at the man who’s now no longer looking at me with irritation. No, now he’s looking at me like he knows exactly how capable I am of hurting him. Of how many times over I could kill him before he even hit the ground. It’s what I’m trained for. And he knows it.
I loosen my fingers slightly. I don’t want to hurt him. I’m not going to hurt him, but I need him to think it’s not outside the realm of possibility because I want him to tell me what I need to know. But I also don’t need to end up being taken down by security and having to explain to a bunch of cops why I thought strong arming a doctor was a good idea. See, told you I was a changed man. I’m all about the balance these days.
I chuckle in my head at my ridiculous rationalization. I’m sure Beth would totally agree with that assessment. Yes, Isaiah, life is all about the balance between being a scary mother fucker and a cordial mother fucker. By the way, here’s a new prescription for your meds. I think it’s time we upped the dosage.
I push Beth out of my thoughts and focus on the man in front of me. I need to make this quick before he really does call for help. “Please. Just tell me if he’s okay.” I drop my hold, and he immediately recoils, rubbing his arm with the opposite hand. Something in my words must’ve gotten through to him, but he quickly glances around the hall before leaning toward me.
“He’s got an infection. We’re not sure of the extent of it yet, but it looks as if it could be a strain of staph. We’re going to run some tests. Find out what we’re dealing with. We’ll know more tomorrow. For now, he’s in a lot of pain, so we’ve got him pretty heavily medicated. He’s in and out of consciousness, and when he is awake, he’s a bit delirious from the fever. He’s not making much sense. It’s really better if you let him rest and come back in a couple of days.” His eyes dart around again, making sure nobody has entered the hallway while he spoke. Having been in my share of hospitals and doctors’ offices since the incident, I know how seriously patient confidentiality is taken in these places. And I know he’s put his ass on the line even telling me this much. Yeah so, I kind of forced it out of him. But if he’s found out, I know that won’t matter in the slightest to his superiors. I nod my gratitude and turn back to Jim’s door.
“I’ll be back tomorrow. For now, let me take a quick peek at him. I need to see for myself he’s still breathing.”
The doctor pops a quizzical eyebrow at me.
“It’s a long story. I promise I’ll be in and out.”
He nods his assent, and I quietly open the door. The clomp of my boots echoes like a herd of elephants off the white, stark walls, but I try to move as silently as I can. Jim’s face is bright red when I reach him, beads of sweat breaking out across his forehead. An IV is hooked up to his arm, the steady drip the only other sound in the room—besides the ever present heart monitor—now that my steps have stilled. I lift my hand to place it on his arm when he suddenly jerks. He mumbles incoherently, the words getting lost in his fever dream. I pause just above his skin, the heat radiating off it and into my palm. He looks miserable. Deciding not to risk causing him more pain by touching him, I drop my hand and instead say, “I’m right here, Jim. You got that? I ain’t going fucking anywhere. And neither are you. So you better get that through your thick skull, you hear me? That’s an order.”
And as if he can hear me, the tiniest smile curls the corner of his lips. It’s probably nothing. Gas, or whatever the hell they say when babies smile before they’re supposed to be able to, but I’m taking it as a sign. I’m all about signs these days too. And balance. And whatever other sappy shit Emma tries to tell me will help me be a happier person. Whatever. Really I should just say I’m all about Emma these days. That’s more like it.
I smile at Jim as his restless movements still. To hell with it, I think, and place my hand on his forearm as gently as I can.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, Stone. You best do the same.”
So maybe going to visit Jim the morning before my date with Emma wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had.
The rest of the day I’m in such a funk I can’t even bring myself to really get pumped about it. I debate calling her a few times, asking her if we can reschedule, but I don’t want to be the asshole who flakes at the last minute. Not with her. Instead, I tell myself to suck it up, grow some balls, and go get her.
By the time I pull into her gravel driveway, I’m already feeling better. Just being at this place does something for me. It’s like the moment the two story pile of brick and mortar comes into view, a weight lifts off my shoulders, and I’m able to breathe. Of course, it also helps that there’s currently a four legged freight train barreling toward my truck. Smiling, I throw the gearshift into park and jump out of the cab, ready and waiting as Jasper finally reaches me.
His front paws land on my shoulders as I drop to my knees, his tongue immediately assaulting my face. I swear this dog thinks he has to thoroughly douse every square inch of it with his life saving dog saliva or I might die right where I stand. His puppy breath is terrible, and each and every time, I inevitably end up with a string of it dangling precariously close to my lips.
And I love every single second of it.
Yep, you heard that right. I, Isaiah Wright, he who cannot be bothered with something as nonsensical as a pet, am completely head over heels in love. With a dog.
And possibly his trainer, I think to myself.
As if summoned by my thoughts, Emma steps out onto the porch, the white screen door swinging shut behind her. Her arms fold across her chest as she takes in the sight of me and Jasper on the ground in front of my truck. The smile on her face is breathtaking. You’d think by now she’d have grown complacent at the sight of me playing with Jasper. But the look on her face every time I first see her above this mountain of golden fur makes me want to stay on my knees forever, just so I never have to see that glow leave her face.
But as much as I love that look, I love being next to her even more. The feel of her warm presence by my side is reassuring. Comforting. Soothing. I crave that feeling when I’m away from her. So I take one last look at her beautiful smile and stand, Jasper quickly falling into step beside me.
I can feel her eyes on me the entire walk to the porch. In spite of all my deliberation about coming, I’d at least put some thought into my attire. My jeans are so dark they’re almost black. Black button down with a hint of a red t-shirt peeking through at the collar. And at the last minute I’d decided to add
a thin silver chain around my neck. My mom gave it to me for Christmas about a million years ago, and I’ve never worn it. I’m not exactly a jewelry type of guy. But I figured this was a special occasion so I might as well go all out. Kevin will laugh his ass off when he sees how much effort I’ve put into this outfit, but the look on Emma’s face as she gives me a final once over when I reach her makes any ridicule I might endure later worth it.
The night I’d spent at her house when Maggie was sick had been a turning point for me. Telling her about what happened, allowing her to see the side of me I’d so vehemently tried to keep locked away, had been the best sort of therapy I could’ve asked for. Sleeping on her floor with Jasper curled into my side, knowing Emma was only a few feet away from me, had been amazing. I’d woken in awe the next morning when I hadn’t had a single nightmare. Not once had I been violently ripped from sleep by my memories. And though they aren’t gone entirely, the panic attacks that had been so prevalent in my life before that night were far less frequent these days. I was able to go days without having a single one. And I have nobody but Emma to thank for that. Well, her and Jasper.
I make my way up her steps, stopping just before I reach her, not sure what to do next. Do I hug her? Kiss her cheek? Fuck, I should’ve brought flowers. I see this woman pretty much every single day. Why is today so much harder?
Emma doesn’t seem to notice my uneasiness and leans in, giving me a brief hug. “You look great,” she says, pulling back to meet my gaze.
I clear my throat. “So do you.” She smiles at me, her eyes roving over my face. They settle briefly on my mouth, her lips parting slightly. I have the sudden desire to kiss her. No, not a desire. It’s a need. Heat courses through me, and I shift uncomfortably. Emma takes a step closer, her eyes locking firmly on mine. I trail my fingers along her arm before grasping onto her elbow. I need those lips against mine. I need their soft fullness. I need to taste them, to quench this intense thirst before I spontaneously combust. I close my eyes, my head lowering to hers. This is it. All these months I’ve wondered what she would taste like. And I’m finally going to find out.
I can feel her warm breath mingling with my own, smell the slight hint of her mouthwash. This encourages me. She wouldn’t have used it if she didn’t at least have a small hope we might end up this close. I’m sure she didn’t think it would be within thirty seconds of my arrival, but what can I say? Patience has never been an attribute of mine.
I don’t want to rush this moment, however. This will only be the first of what I hope to be many, many kisses. Still, I want to savor it. I’ll never again have the chance to kiss Emma for the first time. I need to make it right.
My lips ghost over hers, barely making the slightest contact. The sigh that escapes her makes me smile. This may be torturous for me, but based on her sigh, I’d say she’s right there with me.
After brushing her lips once more with my own and being rewarded with another hitch of her breath, I finally relent and give us what we both clearly want. I close my mouth over hers, pulling her body firmly against mine. Her arms twine around my neck, her fingers running over my smooth scalp before clasping together as she deepens the kiss, her sweet tongue running over the seam of my lips. I open, welcoming the taste of her. My hands circle her waist, lifting her slightly as I walk her backward. Pressing her back against the wall, I devour her mouth with my own, loving the feel of her small body as I pin her in place. She fits so perfectly against me. We’re like two pieces of the same puzzle, finally coming together to make something beautiful.
And it is beautiful. I lose myself in her. In her taste. In her scent. In her very being. Nothing has ever felt as right as it does being here in this moment with Emma, our tongues tangled, and our breathing strangled. I’d be perfectly content to spend the rest of my life on this porch, my lips on hers, and her body against mine.
I have no clue how long we stand here. It could be seconds. It could be hours, but however long it is, it isn’t enough. I’ll never have enough.
Jasper, however, has. A loud bark echoes through the rafters of the porch, startling us both. Emma gasps, biting down on my lower lip in her surprise. I groan, loving the feeling of her teeth on my flesh. But she mistakes the sound for pain.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” She steps back, covering her face with her hands. I look at Jasper, who gives me a stupid puppy grin now that he has my attention. This damn dog better consider himself lucky I like him. Pretty sure I’d kill anybody else who interrupted what was possibly the best first kiss of my entire twenty-nine years.
Jasper cocks his head to the side as he looks back and forth between me and Emma. I shake my head, deciding I can’t stay mad at him for long. But no matter how impatient this little shit is for my attention, he’s going to have to wait a minute. Emma is walking toward the door, her face still buried in her hands.
Just as she reaches for the knob, I grab her arm. Not hard, but enough to let her know I’m not letting her go in that house without speaking to me. She stills, but doesn’t turn to face me. I run my fingers down her arm, closing my hand around hers. She glances at me over her shoulder, and when I give her hand a gentle tug, she finally acquiesces. She spins, pressing her back against the door and looking at her feet.
Even in the dim light of the setting sun, I can see the flush of her cheeks. She’s embarrassed, but I’d like to think at least a little of that pinkness is left over from the kiss we’d shared. My entire body is still buzzing from that kiss. I need some sort of indication she was at least slightly as affected by it as I was.
My fingers find her chin, and I guide it until her eyes finally meet mine. And I get my reassurance. The confusion and heat both evident in her eyes mirror my own feelings so perfectly, it’s almost as if I’m looking into some sort of emotional mirror. Emma has always been a pretty easy person to read, but the way she’s looking at me now is so completely unguarded that for the first time, I finally feel like I can see behind the happy facade she puts on so easily.
“Did I hurt you?” she whispers.
It takes me a second to realize what she means. Jasper’s bark. Her little nip at my bottom lip. I flick out my tongue, running it across the spot where her teeth made contact. Her eyes follow its path. And like that, I want to kiss her again.
This time it’s soft. Brief. I press my lips against hers for only a moment, but I will everything I’m feeling into that simple kiss. And when I pull away, she smiles.
My heart swells at the sight, and I grin back at her. The sparkle that had temporarily vanished returns to her eyes, and she laughs. She cranes her neck, looking over my shoulder at something.
“I guess someone doesn’t like sharing you, does he?”
I laugh, and all traces of tension evaporate between us. Together, we walk over to Jasper, showering him with belly rubs and ear scratches. After a few minutes, I stand.
“We better get going. I asked Kev to hold a table for us, but if we don’t beat the rush, I know that asshole will end up giving it away and trying to set us up in the kitchen or some shit.”
Emma giggles and gets to her feet, brushing stray dog hairs from her skirt. It’s only then I take in what she’s wearing. I’d been so distracted by her to look at her clothes. Hey, I’m a guy. Sue me.
A form fitting black skirt hits her just above her knees. And a lacy white top gives me the tiniest peek at her cleavage. It’s not revealing by any definition of the word, but that’s what makes it even sexier. Like a Christmas present you can’t wait to unwrap.
I feel a twitch in my jeans at the thought. Maybe thinking of unwrapping Emma isn’t the best idea before we’ve even been on our first date. I shift my stance, hoping to hide whatever evidence might be visible to Emma. She ushers Jasper inside before pulling the door closed behind her. She makes quick work of the locks—something I insisted on after finding out she hardly ever used them a few weeks ago. This may be a smaller city and her house might be in the middle of freaking Timbuktu, but
you can never be too careful. Especially when you’re a tiny, gorgeous girl like Emma. I know she thinks it’s unnecessary, but at least she does it to humor me.
“Where’s Joey tonight?” I ask, knowing if she’s locking up he must not be home.
“Date,” she says with a roll of her eyes. From the few times she’s mentioned it, I know Joey doesn’t really date. He has a few girls he’ll take to dinner and sleep with, but it’s nothing more for any of them. From the look in her eyes and the tone of her voice when she speaks of it, I know she wishes he’d settle down a little. Or at least look for someone who might make him happy. But from what I’ve seen, Joey is completely happy with the way his life is going. So though I can sense her disapproval at his choice of activities tonight, I nod and entwine my fingers with hers, leading her to my truck.
I lift her into the cab, carefully watching the placement of my hands. I may have been assaulting her mouth with mine not even two minutes ago, but that doesn’t give me the right to try and cop a feel. She smiles at me as I close her door before jogging around to my side and climbing in.
“I hope you’re hungry.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re pulling into the parking lot at Wright Taste. I’d mistakenly given Emma control of the radio. I’ve never heard someone sing old school Madonna so off key and still manage to be so damn adorable. That said, I’m not at all upset to cut Material Girl short when I kill the engine.
“Aww,” she pouts as I open my door. “I love that song.”
I laugh as I make my way around the truck. Her lower lip still juts out as I help her down, but her sulking is short lived as she looks at the sign glowing from the front of the building. She smirks, pointing at the name.
“Wright Taste?” she asks, amusement evident in her tone.
“Hey, don’t look at me. Our parents came up with that gem. You can ask them what they were smoking when you meet them.”
Woah. The shock of what I said gives me pause. Emma takes a few steps before realizing I’m not at her side. She turns, giving me a curious glance. She doesn’t seem to realize the significance of those words, but then why would she? It’s not exactly uncommon for men to introduce the woman they’re seeing to their folks. Except I’ve never introduced a woman to my parents before. Ever. They never even met any of my high school girlfriends. Even back then, we didn’t exactly get along. I’d moved out the day after graduation and never really looked back. But for some reason, I want them to know Emma. The truth of those words settles in my stomach, and I suddenly feel like I might throw up. I’m frantically looking around for the nearest garbage can, in case my lunch does in fact make a reappearance, when Emma takes my hand and leads me to the hostess station as if nothing is amiss. The moment her fingers lock around mine, my nerves settle. She doesn’t utter a single word, but once again, she manages to soothe my agitation without even being aware of it. I squeeze her hand, hoping to convey my appreciation for her in that simple gesture.
