Untimely You (20 page)

“I’m okay!” I call out to the crowd surrounding me. The back of my head is throbbing, and when I lift up to touch the tender spot, I grow woozy when I bring my fingers out in front of me and they drip with blood.

“Someone call 911!” Jenny hollers.

And then everything fades to black.

Jenny finally left the hospital to go entertain her dinner guest once I assured her I would be fine. I’d held my emotions at bay until she closed the door behind her. And then I burst into tears. With my phone broken, I have no way to call anyone. I’m stuck in a huge city with no support whatsoever. After how things ended with Adrian, I’m a mess.

“Miss Noble,” an older man says as he enters. I smile at the doctor in the white lab coat that matches his white goatee and fluffy hair perfectly.
Hello to you too, Kenny Rogers.
“I’m Dr. Spader.”

I’m starting to hum along to
Islands in the Stream,
which is now playing in my head thanks to Dr. Kenny Rogers here. When he frowns, I stop and frown too.

“Is my CAT scan bad?”

He shakes his head and my thundering heart slows. “No, not at all. How are the stitches feeling?”

I shrug. “Sore.”

“I actually came in here to talk to you about your blood work.”

And my heart rate is back in the race. “And?”

“I’d like to do a vaginal ultrasound to make sure the baby didn’t suffer any trauma from the fall. A nurse will come in shortly and we’ll perform the ultrasound.”

I blink at him. “What? Um, I think there’s a mistake. I’m not pregnant.”

His eyes narrow and his lips press into a firm line. Kenny Rogers is much more agreeable when he’s smiling. A frowning Mr. Rogers is not attractive—ages him at least ten years. “What sort of protection were you using? Condoms are known to break sometimes.”

At this, my neck heats. They can’t break if you don’t use them at all
. Shit!
I’d gotten so frazzled over the last few months trying to get my publishing company going that I’d completely ignored all of the postcard reminders for me to come in and get another birth control shot. I mean, my sex life was pretty much non-existent, so it didn’t matter. And every time Adrian and I had sex, it was always heat of the moment and irresponsible.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

“I take it from your face you weren’t really expecting this pregnancy. You have options. I understand that, at your age, it must be a shock and—”

“My age?” I hiss in a shrill voice that makes my already achy head pound. “Like terminate my child? Fuck you, Kenny Rogers.” And then I burst into tears. Again.

His eyes widen in horror, and his caterpillar eyebrows are crawling up into his hairline so they can morph into butterflies to fly away from this awkward situation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insinuate anything, Miss Noble.”

I swipe at my hot tears with the backs of my hands. “Can you look up Hocksted Holdings for me online? I need to get a hold of Adrian Hocksted and my phone is broken.”

“Certainly. I’ll have a receptionist help you with that. Until then, we’ll do the ultrasound and make sure everything is okay before we release you.”

‘Ol Kenny hightails it from the room before I can yell at him or sob in his presence any longer. He’s probably going to write a song about it:
Dumb clumsy irresponsible old lady gets knocked up by grieving widower who’s no longer interested in her.
It’ll be the saddest country song ever written. At this, I cry harder and clutch my stomach. Little baby, if you’re in there, I promise I’ll take good care of you. And I’ll never make you listen to stupid country music or quack-head Dr. Kenny Rogers as long as I’m your mother.

T
he handle of my suitcase is cold in my grip but my palm is sweating as I stroll toward the elevator of the hotel. I’d reserved my own room just in case things go awry. But I’m hoping we can talk about what an ass I’ve been.

I step into the elevator and run my fingers through my messy hair. When I received the message from Eric that she’d called the office from the hospital, I’d nearly lost my mind. She’d mentioned she’d taken a fall but that she was okay. He told me she needed to talk to me about something. My head’s been so fucked up over losing both Chrissy and Neesy in the same week that I didn’t think twice about hopping on a plane.

When I arrive at her hotel room door, I hesitate. I’d been such a fucking fool two days ago. I’d sent a text to her about Chrissy’s divorce papers hoping she could talk to me about it, but once she realized what I wanted to talk about, she didn’t respond. I assumed she was ignoring me. Only interested in talking about us and nothing else. And in the heat of my anger, I shot off a couple of rude texts. Now, I want the earth to just swallow me the fuck up. I’m a selfish prick, and she deserves someone amazing. Like Eric. But that thought has me seeing red. My mood is all over the fucking place—up and down, but mostly down. And the anger is becoming a problem. To ward off the fury bubbling in my veins at the thought of Eric and Neesy together, I knock on the thick mahogany a little too forcefully. A few seconds later, the door clicks open.

“What’d you go and do now, Crazy?” I question with a frown.

Her face is scrubbed free of makeup. Her dark hair is hanging loose around her face and it’s all tangled. The T-shirt she’s wearing is wrinkled and barely hits her thighs it’s so short. Neesy is a mess. Well, Neesy is always a mess, but her current state of dishevelment is unlike I’ve ever seen her, and all I can think about is how I’m going to put her back together again.

She’s so beautiful.

“Come here,” I growl.

She chokes out a sob and throws herself into my arms. Her scent envelops me immediately. For the first time in days, my heart is beating to life. Happiness vines itself around my heart. When she sags in my arms, utterly spent, I push my suitcase inside the door and then scoop her up. The door falls shut on its own behind me. Her room is in disarray—totally Neesy—so I stumble over some discarded shoes before making it to her bed.

“What’s got you upset, Nees?”

She crawls under the covers while I shed my coat, shoes, and then pants. I slide in next to her. Once I’ve pulled her up against me, I gently stroke her shoulder.

“I missed you.” Her voice. So sweet. So Neesy. God, I missed the sound of it. I want to hear it all the time. On a continuous loop. I crave to hear her ramble on about anything and everything.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” I murmur. “What happened? Did you fall? Why were you in the hospital? They didn’t keep you but one day so you’re okay, right?”

She lets out a sigh. “I slipped on some icy steps and fell. Ended up getting stitches on the back of my head. Of course I did all of this in front of Jenny Nord, the Barnes & Noble rep.” Her voice quivers and I sense she’s horrified.

“Did this interfere with your negotiations with her?”

She chuckles, a sound even better than her words. “We’d already signed paperwork. They’re excited to have me.”

“Of course they are. You’re a fucking rock star at this shit.”

Her smile, although I can’t see it, warms the room. “How are you doing?” she questions, changing the subject. “How is Damien handling everything?”

My thoughts drift to my son. He’d left to go back to school yesterday. The boy is resilient. While I was cracking and breaking, he was mending and gluing. I, once again, relied on my child to fix me when I was shattered. And he did. With a strength he undoubtedly inherited from his mother.

“He’s great. You know, Dame…handles every situation with ease. He’ll do great wherever his career takes him after college.”

We grow silent. My eyes are wide open but I wonder if she’s fallen asleep. I want to ask her a million questions but I don’t want to disturb her. After some time, though, she speaks.

“Would you ever want more children one day?”

“No,” I say a little too quickly. “I’m too old.” I’m pushing forty and don’t necessarily want to start all over again. Besides, I might even be a grandfather in the next few years if Damien is serious about his girlfriend.

Neesy grows tense in my arms. I want to shoot myself in the foot for being so quick to answer. She’s so emotional right now—we both are—I don’t know what’s going through her head. Knowing her, she’s trying to imagine a life for us. And I probably just killed her dream. God, I’m a fucking dick.

“I’m tired,” she murmurs and rolls over to her side. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

I look at my watch and frown. It’s six thirty in the evening. And if she thinks I’m leaving her, she’s wrong. “Talk to me, Crazy. You’re not being yourself.”

“I. Just. Want. To. Sleep.” A sob wracks through her and I swallow down my guilt. I don’t know how to make her feel better but despite her whacking her head, I feel like it’s me that’s making her cry, not her injuries.

“Sleep then, Nees. And I’ll hold you.”

It’s dark and must be some time in the middle of the night. Her breaths come out in soft pants indicating her sleep. I want to make things right. How the fuck do I make it right? Guilt spreads through me like oil on a lake. Thick. Revolting. I can’t get rid of it.

I’ve fucked everything up.

I fucked up with Chrissy, majorly. Our marriage. What happened after the accident. My unfaithfulness to her toward the end.

But then I fucked up with Neesy. Royally. Pursued and led her on despite my being married. Made love to her—
told her I loved her
—even though my living, breathing wife was unconscious in the other room. It’s fucked. All of it.

The worst of it is I pushed Neesy away from me. She’s been nothing but a bright spot in my dark world. And I chose to dim her perfect light. To ruin her happy-go-lucky personality with my asshole ways.

Lying on my side, I slip my palm to her cheek. With my thumb, I stroke her bottom lip. So supple and warm. Damn perfect is what she is. When I brush a soft kiss on her lips, she lets out a small groan that does nothing but send all the blood rushing to my cock.

“I’m changing your nickname from Wacko to Creepy,” she murmurs.

A throaty chuckle escapes me and I kiss her with more possessiveness. I’ve missed her so goddamned much. Her slender hands slide into my hair. She clutches on to me as if I might vanish with the night.