Authors: Brooklyn Wilde
Her body hung only inches above his. The pendant dangling from her necklace tickled his collarbone. Their eyes locked, and Ethan’s face turned serious. He wound his left hand into her hair while the fingers of his right traced the line along her jawbone. Her breath hitched, and her heart roared in her ears.
Sarah’s brain was screaming for her to get up, back away, and walk out the door, but her body refused to cooperate. Every nerve ending hummed with energy. It had been so long since a man had looked at her like that and touched her that way. And just because she didn’t have it anymore didn’t mean she’d stopped needing it.
Her muscles were trembling. She didn’t fight it when he pulled her down on top of him, guiding her lips onto his. A light brush at first, a teaser of what was to come. Still tasting faintly of whisky, his tongue traced the outline of her mouth before gently parting her lips. The kiss was sweet and slow at first, and she was surprised by his tenderness. A moan escaped her throat, and the kiss evolved into something desperate and primal. Ethan’s breathing kicked up a notch, and Sarah’s sped to match it. His chest heaved beneath her.
A hand slid underneath the hem of her shirt. Fingers grazed the sensitive skin of her ribcage and came to rest on the side of her breast, pricking up her nipples. Ethan ran a thumb over the soft flesh and grunted in approval. She wasn’t wearing a bra. He nuzzled into her neck and bit at her flesh at the exact moment he pinched her nipple, and she cried out. Sticky wetness formed between her thighs, and she instinctively pushed into him. He scooped her up and rolled partway on top of her, then stopped. Without warning, he jerked away from her.
His face was red and drawn up with anger. She laid a hand on his forearm, and he recoiled. Confusion muddied her thoughts. What had she done to piss him off? The impropriety of the situation suddenly became clear to her. She was his physical therapist, and she’d taken advantage of that relationship, of his fragile state. How could she have been so stupid? She should never have let this happen. Hell, she should never have come here. Embarrassment and shame settled over her, so thick she could hardly breathe.
“I’m sorry. I—”
He cut her off. “It’s not you.”
Then what? She replayed the moment in her mind, and the realization hit her with such force she thought she’d fall over. Ethan had lifted her up so that he could roll on top of her, take control. Only…
Only his legs remained just where they were. Lifeless. Inert. Caught up in the intensity of the moment, he must have forgotten about what he considered his “useless” lower half. And forgetting, even for the briefest of moments, forced him to grapple all over again with the heartbreaking realization that he was paralyzed. Rage colored the skin around his temples bright pink, and he clenched his jaw so hard Sarah heard his teeth click. She sat up awkwardly, unsure of what to do next.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. It—“
“Don’t. Please don’t.” The words came out in rapid, angry bursts. “Just go.”
Sarah placed her hand on top of his, but he jerked it away.
“No. Save your sympathy. I don’t need your pity-fuck.”
Sarah winced at the words. Ethan softened for a moment, but the vitriol flared right back up again. He let out a sardonic laugh. “That’s not right either, is it? It couldn’t be a ‘fuck’ now could it? What would it be?”
Without another word, Sarah stood and walked toward the door. Just as she was about to cross the threshold, he called out to her: “I’m sorry.”
She looked back and saw his body doubled over. He looked pitiful and defeated.
“I didn’t mean that.” He sighed. “I guess I hadn’t really considered the fact that I’m now utterly fucking useless to a woman. I don’t know why it never occurred to me before, but it didn’t.”
Sarah turned back toward the door, meaning to leave, but paused with one hand on the knob. This had been a mistake, and she wanted to run out. But she couldn’t do that. He needed someone to reassure him and to make him stop feeling so damn sorry for himself.
“Horseshit,” she said bluntly.
Surprise registered on his face.
“Your fingers still work, don’t they? Tongue still works, doesn’t it? That’s all you really need to please a woman. It’s guys that are all preoccupied with your dicks, not us.” She raised an eyebrow, daring him to challenge the assertion. “Now go the fuck to sleep. Pretend this was all a bad dream.”
As she closed the door behind her and started toward the guest room, she was pretty sure that she heard him laugh.
* * *
Sarah slept like shit. When the sun rose, she gave up, flung off the twisted sheet, and sat up in bed. Her head and neck ached from some unholy combination of too much alcohol, not enough sleep, and the mortifying events of the night before. How could she have lost control like that?
She’d never done anything so mind-bogglingly unprofessional in her entire career. He was a client, and she’d be fired if he said a word about what had gone down—if he even bothered to show his face in the clinic again.
She tried to rationalize what had happened. At least it hadn’t gone any further than it did. Hell, maybe that was worse. She could still get fired, and she hadn’t even gotten laid. It had been so long, she had started thinking she didn’t need to anymore. She had been wrong.
There was more to it than that, though, and she knew it. She’d felt something last night, hadn’t she? A connection. He was undeniably good-looking, at least when he wasn’t brooding and pissed off. Maybe a little even then. Underneath that he was smart and witty. He’d made her laugh. For just a few hours, he’d forgotten about being paralyzed and had just been Ethan. And she’d been surprised by just how much she liked him.
But the old Ethan, the guy who took people skydiving and lived in a mansion on a hill, would never have been interested in her. She was an ordinary girl with an ordinary job and an extraordinary amount of baggage. Had she taken advantage of a vulnerable man? That thought sent a wave of nausea over her.
Her mouth felt like it was full of sand, so she got up, dug around in her bag for her toothbrush, and headed to the bathroom. She looked at her face in the mirror and thought she looked much older than her twenty-eight years. The bloodshot eyes with bags underneath certainly didn’t help—but still…
After she finished getting dressed, she made her way to the kitchen. No sound came from the direction of Ethan’s room. Still asleep. Sarah pilfered around in the cupboards as quietly as she could before dramatically opening up the double-door fridge.
“Pay dirt,” she whispered.
A package of ground coffee peeked out from the back of the freezer, atop some kind of frozen vegan food substitute. No milk, but she’d make do. It took at least five minutes to figure out the fancy Italian coffee machine. She snickered. Hers at home had exactly two buttons: power and brew. A few seconds later, a rich, heady aroma filled the kitchen. Oversized mugs hung from a rack below the cabinet, and she poured a generous cup right up to the brim.
She took her coffee over to the bay window and sat down on the seat. She gasped when she took in the magnificent view. Below the house, a tree-covered hill sloped gently down to a wide creek. She scanned the horizon—not a manmade structure in sight. Nature stretched out as far as the eye could see. Ethan’s life was making more and more sense. She imagined him running through the woods and climbing up trees as a boy.
“What are you smiling about?” He had rolled into the kitchen as silently as a ninja in footed pajamas. Sarah jerked in surprise and nearly spilled her coffee. Her cheeks flushed. She wondered if he knew she was thinking about him.
“You’re sneaky in that thing. I was just scoping out the view. Not bad. I could get used to this.”
“Good. I think you should move in.”
“What?” She nearly spilled her coffee a second time. “Did you fall down and hit your head again?”
“I’m serious. I’ve spent most of the night thinking about this. It makes perfect sense.”
“Only if by perfect sense you mean no sense.”
“Hear me out. I need someone to live with me. I can’t stay here alone, and I’ll be damned if I’m moving into a nursing home.”
“Long-term care facility,” Sarah corrected.
“Whatever. You’ve done this before. With your mom. You have the experience. And I like the idea of a full-time physical therapist a helluva lot more than a live-in nursemaid.”
“Okay, I’m starting to understand why this would make perfect sense
for you
.”
“It does for you, too. I’ll match your salary. Meaning I’ll pay you to live here.” He gestured to the view she’d been mooning over. “Plus, you can keep your job.”
“How could I? You need someone with you. All the time. I heard it straight from Dr. Sanchez’s mouth.”
He paused, searching for a rebuttal. “My staff will pitch in during the day.” He snapped a finger. “And I’ll get one of those dogs.”
“You’ll get a dog?”
“You know, the ones people get to do stuff for them.”
“A service animal?”
“Yes! No problem.”
She rolled her eyes. “What about last night?”
“My fault completely. I apologize. I drank too much. Won’t happen again.”
Why did him saying that disappoint her? She shook the thought away. “This is crazy!”
“Will you let me finish? I haven’t gotten to the best part. I’ll give you the thing you want most in the world.”
“Oh yeah?” Sarah’s hackles were up now. What the hell did this guy know about her? “What’s that?”
“I’ll back your business.”
“I don’t need your charity. I can do it on my own.”
“Who said anything about charity? I’m talking about making an investment. In you. You’ve got drive and skill. I think you’re a good bet. Besides, I honestly don’t know whether I’ll be able to keep running my company from this thing.” He tapped the arm of the wheelchair. “Here’s a chance to diversify. And I know you can do it on your own. But weren’t you the one who said everybody needs help sometimes?” He had her there. “Let me help you.”
Confusion darkened her features as the conflict raged inside her. “You’ve got everything figured out, don’t you? You make it sound so simple. I can’t just move in with you! It’s not just me I have to worry about.”
“What, you’ve got a roommate or something? I’ll cover your half of the bills until the lease term is up.”
“That’s not it.”
His frustration mounted with every word, and she could feel that he was about to lose his temper.
“Then what is it? No ring. You’re not married. You got a boyfriend or something? Because you sure weren’t acting like it last night.”
The words stung. “Fuck you for even thinking that.”
Ethan shifted in his chair. “I deserved that. I’m sorry.”
“You notice you seem to be saying that an awful lot lately?”
“You’re right. I’ve been a total dick. And I know how insane this sounds. Not sounds. Is. We barely know each other, but after last night…I don’t know. I just…I just need you.”
Sarah knew she should turn and walk out of the house, but something kept her there. Something about the way he looked at her, desperate and reckless and full of hope, made her stay. “It’s not that simple.”
“It can be! You’ve got no roommate, no boyfriend. I’m making an offer you can’t refuse. What’s the holdup?”
Sarah pinched the bridge of her nose. “The holdup is that I have a son.”
Chapter Six
Shockwaves reverberated through the room. Ethan looked like he’d just had a bucket of ice water thrown in his face.
“A son?” He said it as though he didn’t understand the phrase, like it was some foreign saying he’d never heard before.
“Jared. He’s eleven.”
“You have a son.”
“Yes. That’s what I said.”
“I—I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“Of course you didn’t. We just met. You don’t know anything about me. You’re asking me to move in with you, and it honestly never even occurred to you that I might have a life of my own?” She threw her hands up and took a deep breath. “That’s why it took me so long to get to the hospital yesterday. I had to scramble to find a friend to watch him and take him to school in the morning.” She couldn’t tell how much of what she said was getting through.
“You must have been so young.”
“Too young. I had him when I was seventeen.” She took a long swig of her now-lukewarm coffee. “Got pregnant my first time. That’s why my parents stopped speaking to me.”
“Because you got pregnant?”
“No, because I wouldn’t have an abortion.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“My dad was a pastor. Mom was a housewife. They were fine, upstanding members of the community.” Sarcasm oozed out of Sarah’s every pore. “Uber-conservative. They couldn’t handle the thought of everyone finding out their daughter was a whore.”
“I would’ve thought a pastor would be against abortion.”
“Well, you know what they say—everybody is just one unplanned pregnancy away from being pro-choice.”
“Not you, though?”
“I wouldn’t say that. I don’t judge other women for their choices. It just wasn’t the right one for me.”
“And the father?”
“Henri. He was a foreign exchange student. I had the biggest crush on him all year long. We got together the night before he went back to France. He said he’d write. He never did. I never told him. I couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to. I didn’t even have his address.” It was the story of her life. She had acted on impulse, and then he had abandoned her. Just like her father.
“And you reconciled with your mom, but not your dad?”
“No, he had a heart attack a year or two before Mom fell. I didn’t even know he’d passed.”
“Why didn’t you mention any of this last night?”
“It never came up. Most people who don’t have kids don’t ask, and the fact that I was an unwed teen mother isn’t exactly something I go around volunteering to most of my clients.”
“And it isn’t like you were planning to have any kind of relationship with me other than therapist-client, right?” It was a loaded question.