by Kait Nolan
Catching the tear that managed to escape with his thumb, he searched her face. “Is that what you want?”
Her throat worked, and when she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. But he heard the answer he’d been waiting for. “Yes.”
He couldn’t stop the delighted grin from taking over his face. “Then let’s make a baby.” Reaching around to her back pocket, he slipped the phone out of it, deliberately engaging silent mode before laying it on the kitchen island.
“What? Now?”
Running his hands over her ass, down her thighs, he picked her up. “No time like the present.”
Laughing, she wrapped her legs around him as he headed for his bedroom. “And here Pru said having the discussion didn’t mean doing it tomorrow. It’s literally tomorrow.”
“You talked to Pru about this?”
“I wanted her perspective as the mom of a teenager and a toddler. She made me feel like it was possible.”
God bless his sister. “Remind me to send her flowers later. Meanwhile, I intend to devote all my considerable stamina to making our tomorrow today.”
“I still have my IUD.”
“So we can practice. Lots and lots until you’re ready to go for the real thing. The fact is, I want you. I always want you. And I want to make love to you in every conceivable way, in my bed, while I think about burying myself deep and spilling into you.”
Emerson shivered. “Why is that so hot?”
“Biological imperative?”
As he turned into the hall, he heard the buzz of Emerson’s phone vibrating on the counter. He paused as she glanced toward the kitchen. The last thing he wanted was to stop right now, but it was her call.
She looked back at him. “I want you to make love to me, in your bed, while we both think about you filling me up.”
Her words made him shudder. But more than that, she was choosing to put them first. After all this time, all his patience, that was such a gift. He knew that wouldn’t—couldn’t—always be the case. But for tonight, she was his to love and cherish.
Taking her mouth with his, he turned into his room and tumbled them both onto the bed.
Letting that call go to voicemail—whoever it was—felt monumental. Tonight, finally, she was putting herself and her needs first. That they totally coincided with Caleb’s was a happy bonus.
He loved her. He wanted a life with her. The very idea of it was a miracle and filled her with so much joy she thought she’d burst. As he stripped her naked, the joy turned to desire, stark and ravenous. He made her feel everything as he worshipped her body, suckling her breasts and then moving lower, until she was wet and writhing and desperate.
She flexed her fingers in his hair, tugging. “Caleb, please. I need you.”
Lifting his head, he met her gaze, his own full of volcanic heat as he crawled up her body and settled between her thighs.
“Love you.” He took her mouth in a claiming kiss, and she tasted her pleasure on his tongue. “Love you so fucking much.”
Then he slid into her, slow and deep and perfect, filling up all the empty places inside her with every slow, deliberate stroke. Caleb Romero was her match, in every way. She wished there was no IUD because she loved the idea of his hard, hot length bare and buried deep inside her, spilling into her when her own release pulled him over. She loved the idea of conceiving here, tonight, as a sign of their commitment. Of their forever. The thought of it had her orgasm ripping up from her toes, her whole body clenching around him in a brutal, glorious grip. And then Caleb was coming and coming, emptying everything he was inside her before collapsing.
Emerson was grateful for his forethought to brace himself on his forearms so he didn’t completely crush her because she didn’t have the energy or will to move. For long minutes, they could only gasp, their frantic hearts slowing as sweat-slicked skin began to cool.
When she thought she could speak, she croaked, “I should probably wait to have my IUD removed.”
“Second thoughts already?”
“No, but that was the best sex of my life and I’d like to have as much of it as possible.”
The rumble of his laugh vibrated her chest and she felt him already stirring inside her as he took her mouth in a kiss. Hell yes, she could go for another round of that.
From somewhere on the floor, his phone began to ring.
Caleb hesitated. “It might be work.”
She slapped his bare ass. “Go ahead. I’m not going anywhere.”
He rolled off her, and she instantly regretted the loss of his warmth. Another two rings completed by the time he dug the phone out of his pants from the pile of clothes they’d discarded.
“Hello?”
The good humor on his face melted in an instant. “What?”
As the person on the other end continued to speak, he glanced at her, his expression shifting to a neutral mask. Feeling suddenly cold, she pulled the sheet up over her breasts.
“Where?” Another pause. “Yeah, we’re on the way.”
A huge, encompassing dread draped over Emerson like a lead cloak as he hung up the phone. That carefully neutral face terrified her. She’d seen that face before, on a rainy night over four years ago.
Caleb sat on the bed and took her hand. She wanted to pull away, wanted to stop whatever was about to come out of his mouth. She wanted to rewind to ten minutes ago, when life was full of possibilities and promise. Because she understood that whatever he said would be yet another dividing line.
“There’s been an accident.”
Chapter 14
“I came as soon as I could. What’s going on?” Paisley demanded.
Caleb scrubbed a hand down his face. “Fiona’s in surgery.”
“Oh my God.” Her gaze strayed to Emerson, who sat across the waiting room, arms wrapped around herself, rocking in one of the molded plastic chairs. “What happened?”
“Fi found out about us tonight. It didn’t go well, and she left upset. Emerson missed her call to apologize, and the voicemail she left cut off when she got T-boned.” He’d worked more accident scenes than he could count, had seen more than one as they happened—including the one that had taken Micah’s life. But nothing had ever shaken him the way hearing Fiona’s voice cut off with a crash and the sound of shattering glass. Nothing except the absolute anguish on Emerson’s face as she heard it too. “I had to take Emerson’s phone away so she wouldn’t keep torturing herself with the voicemail.”
Paisley covered her mouth. “What have the doctors said?”
“Not a helluva lot. She was already in surgery when we got here. But Em’s bad. I know she’s scared out of her mind. This is literally her worst nightmare come true and she’s totally shut down and shut me out. I know she’s finding some way to blame herself for this, and I can’t get through to her. I was hoping you’d have better luck.”
Calling Paisley was the only thing he could think to do. There was nothing he could fix, no way to make it better. If anything happened to Fiona, it would devastate Emerson in a way she’d never recover from.
Paisley squeezed his arm. “I’ll try to talk to her.”
He watched her take a seat by Emerson, pulling her into a hug. That should have been him comforting her. Should have been him she could lean on. But from the moment he’d taken her hand to give her the news, she’d been pulling away, deep into herself. Blaming herself and, given the new distance between them, probably him, too. But he didn’t know for sure because she was barely speaking.
He couldn’t stand this. He had to find something to do. Some way to make this better. Maybe he could use some of his contacts to find out…something. He had to know somebody working on shift right now. Surely they could give a status update or an estimate for how much longer the surgery should last.
But before he could try to find someone, a doctor came into the waiting room. “Fiona Gaffney?”
Emerson bolted to her feet and swayed. Paisley wrapped an arm around her waist, stabilizi
ng her. Caleb braced himself.
“I’m Dr. Norris, the surgeon who operated on Fiona. And you’re her…?”
“Mother. Guardian. It’s complicated. Is she…?”
“She came through surgery just fine and should make a full recovery.”
Emerson clutched Paisley and just closed her eyes for a moment, murmuring his own sentiment. “Thank God.”
Profound relief nearly took Caleb out at the knees. Fiona was okay. Emerson would be okay. Everything else was just details. They’d figure it out. He was good at the details.
Caleb listened as the doctor went over the specifics of Fiona’s condition. With his EMT training, he understood more of the medical jargon, and he honestly wasn’t sure how much of it Emerson was absorbing. He wanted to be able to tell her later if she needed it. Bruised ribs, some cuts, a torn rotator cuff, but it was the internal bleeding they’d repaired that had been the worst of it. She’d been lucky.
“When can I see her?” Emerson demanded.
“She’s being moved to a room on the fourth floor. She’ll be waking up soon. We want to keep her for a couple of days for observation, but there’s no reason you can’t see her.”
“Can I stay with her?”
“Of course.” Dr. Norris shook Emerson’s hand. “The nurses will see that you get a blanket and pillow.”
She blinked back the tears. “Thank you.”
Even as the doctor walked away, Caleb was already making plans, sorting out the best way to make sure everything was covered so she wouldn’t have to worry about anything but being there for Fiona.
Paisley was on it, too. “I’ll run to the house and pack you a bag for the night. And don’t you worry about Mooch. He’s fine at my place hanging with Duke. They’re having a little pupper bromance.” She squeezed Emerson tight. “I’ll be back as fast as I can.”
Before she left, she met Caleb’s gaze, clearly saying, I’m leaving her with you. Take care of her.
He nodded. Now that the uncertainty was past, maybe she’d start unbending a little.
As Paisley disappeared down the hall, he pulled out his phone. “I’ll call in to give the guys the update and make arrangements for someone to cover my shift.”
“That’s not necessary.” Emerson’s voice was flat, toneless, and he recognized the armor going on as she prepared to see Fiona.
“Of course it is.” Didn’t she understand he was here for her?
“No.”
She was still reacting, still operating as if she was on her own, as she had been four years ago. But this wasn’t four years ago. This was now. She had him. “You’re not dealing with this by yourself.”
Emerson crossed her arms, as if she’d fly apart any moment. “I can’t do this.”
The gesture made him ache. Unable to stand it anymore, he reached for her, curling his hands around her stiff shoulders. “I have your back. I’ll take care of whatever you need me to. You just need to keep breathing.”
The eyes she lifted to his were shattered. “No, I can’t do this with you.”
“Do what?” What was this jittery, uncertain feeling clawing at his ribs? It crawled through him, growing bigger and fiercer with every word she spoke.
“Any of it. This was my fault. I should never have pursued things with you.”
Panic. This was panic. He couldn’t afford to give in to it. “I know you’re upset. This whole thing has been terrifying, but it’s not your fault.”
Temper broke through the shield, and her voice shook. “She was driving upset because of me. She could have died, and I thought it was more important to be in your bed. I won’t put anyone or anything else ahead of her ever again. I’m done, Caleb. We’re done.”
The words struck him like bullets, one after another. His breath wheezed out and he almost looked down at his own chest to check for a wound as the pain spread through him like poison. He hadn’t heard her right. She was distraught and not thinking straight. “You don’t mean that.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You know me better than almost anyone. Do I look anything other than serious?”
Her beautiful, beloved face was drawn with exhaustion. Every line of her body shouted resignation, and he had no doubt she was drowning in guilt and going down for the third time. Everything in him wanted to leap in and save her. It was what he did.
But he couldn’t fight this. Not in this moment. And that absolutely killed him.
“I don’t want to leave you alone.” And maybe that was as much about him as her.
“I won’t be. Paisley will be back soon. Go home, Caleb.”
She needed him to walk away right now. As punishment? Penance? He didn’t know. But he didn’t know what else to do.
“Miss Aldridge?” A nurse approached. “I’m here to take you to your daughter.”
Caleb released her and stepped back. His hands curled and uncurled, wanting to pull her in again and knowing he had to respect her wishes. For now. He handed over the phone he’d pocketed earlier. “Keep me updated on how she is. Please.”
Emerson nodded and followed the nurse down the hall. No hesitation. No backward glance.
He’d keep the channels of communication open. She’d change her mind when she got past the scare. She had to. Because he didn’t know how to live a life that wasn’t centered around her and he didn’t want to have to learn.
Emerson sat by Fiona’s bedside, clutching her hand in both of hers, waiting for her girl to wake up. Even looking at her hurt, as if Emerson could feel every bruise, every cut, every torn muscle. But the truth was, she had hurt before she’d laid eyes on her daughter. Since the moment Caleb had taken her hand and said those dreaded words—again—and fear had cracked her in half. Every inch of her was raw, every nerve ending exposed. And all she wanted in the world was for the man she’d sent away to be here beside her.
She’d hurt him. He hadn’t deserved that. But she knew him well enough to understand that nothing else would’ve gotten him to go. And he had to go. She couldn’t be what Fiona needed and keep Caleb in her life. There just wasn’t enough of her to go around, and Fi had to come first. Emerson owed her that.
And better she break things off with him now than later. Before she lost her mind and had a baby with him. How could she even think of bringing another child into the world, when she’d fucked up so badly with this one? It was just part of the long, lovely dream she’d been living in the past two months. One she’d let herself get entirely too immersed in.
Well, she was brutally awake now, slapped back to reality and her proper place. And if she wept for the loss of the dream, she couldn’t apologize for it. She’d indulge the tears for a little while. Then she’d do what needed to be done, as she always had. But that would be for later, in the shower, where Fiona wouldn’t hear. She’d gotten very good at hiding her grief over the years. At faking strength until she actually began to feel it.
Fiona’s hand flexed in hers. “Auntie Em?”
At the faint rasp of her voice, Emerson straightened, clutching tighter at the hand she held. “I’m here, baby.”
“Where am I?”
“In the hospital. You’re gonna be okay.” She sent up another silent prayer for the surgical team that had made that the truth.
“What happened?”
Emerson thought of the voicemail she’d found on her phone and had to fight not to react.
“I’m sorry I left mad. I don’t want to stay in a fight with you. Please call me back. I want to—” The crash and the horrible sound of breaking glass and rending steel would be etched in her brain forever.
Searching for a calm she didn’t really feel, Emerson pulled on all her acting skills to modulate her voice. “You were in a car accident on your way back to school.”
“I don’t…quite remember.”
“The doctor said that’s normal. It may come back later.” If it didn’t, that was probably for the best. She didn’t need more traumatic car crash memories.
“W
ere the cupcakes ruined?”
“Cup—” Oh my God. It was National Chocolate Cupcake Day. “That was why you came over. We were supposed to bake cupcakes. And I wasn’t there.”
The silly holiday had been strictly observed by Micah and Fiona. It had been something they could afford to celebrate on their meager budget, and every year they tried to outdo their previous outrageous creations. After her death, Emerson and Fi had continued the tradition as a way to keep her alive.
And this year Emerson had forgotten because she’d been thinking of no one but herself.
The guilt of that crumbled whatever tenuous control she’d cobbled together. The tears came fast and hard. She didn’t even know exactly what she was weeping over. Relief that Fiona was alive. Grief that Micah wasn’t. The overwhelming sense of failure that she’d missed something important to the child who was her everything. And the loss of a future she’d barely begun to embrace with a man she didn’t think she’d ever get over. All of it made her feel like she was drowning, barely able to breathe.
Fiona squeezed her hand. “Please don’t cry, Auntie Em. I’m sorry for putting you through this again.”
That only made her sob harder because why should this precious child take the blame for any of this? Not when all of it lay squarely on Emerson’s shoulders.
It took several tries to suck in enough breath and find enough control to force the words out. “Not on you. None of this is on you.” If she could do nothing else, she could give Fiona this. “It’s all my fault. Everything is my fault. I should have been there for you. Then and now.”
“What?”
Her breath hitched. She’d never admitted this to another soul and saying it out loud now was like shoving a knife through her own heart. “Your mom died because of me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I didn’t answer the phone that night when you called. I was out with friends at a bar and it was loud, and I figured I’d call you back later. If I’d answered, I would have come to get you, no question. Y’all would never have been where you were when that drunk asshole blew through the light. Micah would still be here.”
