Close Match
Page 38
“Pretty certain you’d have a more captive audience.” She cups my sac loosely.
“You seem to have a pretty good handle on that topic,” I growl as I bend down to nibble at her neck. My hands slide beneath her rear. I give a tug, and she boosts herself up. Turning, I plant her on the counter so I have better leverage to kiss her senseless.
* * *
“I must be insane for trying to do this at my age.” I fling my laptop to the side. I don’t give a shit if the thing breaks, as it bounces off the couch. Pulling off my reading glasses, I toss them onto the end table in frustration.
“Monty, you’ve come so far.” Linnie plops down next to me with a pint of cookies and cream ice cream and two spoons. “This is just the first class in your PhD. Relax before you have a coronary.”
“This teacher is insane. I swear Dr. Lee is going to cause me to violate HIPAA laws to record what he says. He talks as fast as you do pirouettes.” I pinch my fingers in the corner of my eyes.
Linnie laughs ruefully. “That’s not as fast as it used to be.”
“I don’t think I got even half of the notes down, and I know I was typing as fast as I can.”
Spooning up a large bite of ice cream, she offers it to me. I sigh before taking the spoon. “You’ll get it, Monty. I know you will. You’re determined to work with those people,” Linnie declares with pride.
Leaning down, I touch my forehead to hers. “I know. I was feeling sorry for myself.”
She snorts. Grabbing my hand, she places it on her flat stomach. “Feel sorry for me. I’m the one who’s going to be huge with your child while all the nubile Columbia undergrads drool over my smart, sexy man.”
I roll my eyes.
“What you want to do, why you want to do it…I don’t care if it takes you ten years, Monty.”
“I do, babe.” And that’s the truth. When I realized I wanted to work at a rehabilitation center like the one that helped bring me back from the depths of an unceasing black hole to my life, I voraciously attacked classes. And during breaks, Linnie and I manage to make it down to the farm, though more often than not, it’s Mom and Dad coming up to visit. After all, Columbia’s Clinical Psychology program waits for no man. We’ll be tied to New York for at least the next three years. I groan aloud when I realize I’ll be forty-four at the earliest before I am truly able to help the people who, like me, need someone that can see beyond what they are doing to why they are doing it. Someone who isn’t going to give up. Someone who maybe can help them find a path to sobriety.
“Dr. Parrish,” she purrs. God, when she says it like that, my cock gets rock hard.
“Not helping,” I grit out. There’s no way I’m going to be able to prep for my clinical walk-through with Dr. Lee tomorrow if my fiancée keeps distracting me.
“Fine,” she huffs, moving away. Damn, she took the ice cream with her. My lips set into a frown. Just as I’m about to reach for my laptop, I hear her whisper in a dreamy voice, “Dr. and Mrs. Parrish.”
Done. I’m completely done. Hoping my brain remembers medical shorthand as well as it remembered military orders when I’d have no sleep, I dive for Linnie, tackling her against the soft cushions. Ripping the ice cream from her hand, I place it on the floor.
Her beautiful green eyes are sparkling up at me, innocently. “Was it something I said?”
“Yes.”
“What was that?”
Leaning down so my nose touches hers, I whisper, “You said my life started again that night. You were right. But you were wrong. It started the day you decided to take a chance on meeting your close match.”
Her lips graze mine when she reminds me, “And I not only found the other half of my blood, but I found the other half of my heart. Not bad for $195. Including New York sales tax, of course.”
Even as my body shakes with laughter, my lips capture hers in a fierce kiss of agreement.
Einstein, when he was asked about God, said that he saw a pattern but that he couldn’t imagine what that pattern led to. Everything has a pattern. For both of us, what appeared to be chaos took both of our lives down the path toward a simple DNA test to find out answers.
Neither of us could have imagined how it would change our lives. In our case, for the better.
The End
Coming Soon
Some people live without love. Some can even survive without water.
Right now? I wish I never knew what what it was like to have tasted either.
Ripple Effect
Coming in Winter 2020
Amazon/Kindle Unlimited
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Where to get help
Every three minutes, someone is diagnosed with a blood cancer. Every hour, more than six people die from it. Seventy percent of patients do not have a fully matched donor in their family. People are in a race against time to find a genetic match through an unrelated donor or through cord blood.
I’ve stood by and helplessly watched, prayed, and collapsed in relief when a perfect match was found for someone I love. But a perfect match is a near improbability. Today, family genetics have beautiful twists in them, remarkable parents are adopting children, and when tragedy strikes those we love who might have been a match, we have to be able to turn somewhere for help.
Be the Match, operated by the National Marrow Donor Program, manages the largest and most diverse bone marrow registry in the world. It is a remarkable organization to look into supporting whether through a donation, a fundraiser, or by becoming a donor yourself.
Because sometimes, close is good enough. It can save a life.
Also by Tracey Jerald
The Amaryllis Series
Free to Dream
Free to Run
Free to Rejoice
Free to Breathe
Free to Believe
Free to Live
Standalones
Close Match
Coming Soon
Ripple Effect - Winter 2020
Acknowledgements
First, last, always, and forever, to my husband, Nathan. You are the heart that beats within me. Thank you for loving me the way you do every single day.
To my son, who keeps growing taller and stronger. You don’t know how proud you make me just by being you. I love you beyond infinity.
Mom, you are such an inspiration to me. If I can be as spectacular as you, then I’ve reached the best life goal. Keep dancing circles around everyone!
Jen, let me guess? You’re reading the back first again, right? You know I’d fly anywhere to meet you. I love you, always.
Meows, gah! You were living inside my head during this book remembering our times together in NoVA? I love you all so much.
To Jennifer Woefel, never be anyone different to me. XOXO.
To Sandra Depukat from One Love Editing. It is such a blessing to work with you; someone who is brilliant but is passionate about the story. I love you!
To Holly Malgeri. My twin, it is a blessing to have you in my life every day. To have you work on my books in an honor. Thank you for being a part of this crazy ride with me.
My cover designer, Amy Queue of QDesigns, you give me all the chills. Love you!
To my team at Foreword PR, there is so much you do that people barely see. You deserve pages of accolades. Thank you for the big things, the little things, the everyday things, and the crazy things you handle for me.
Linda Russell, you are brilliance, a superstar, and a book boyfriend hoarder! You inspire so much from me, including your own mini-series when I send you emails. Yeah, you’re just that amazing. All joking aside, this doesn’t work without you in my life and my heart. I love you hard! Now, find me a plot of land.
For my Facebook group — Tracey’s Tribe. I’m sending my love to you always. A special
shout out to Susan Henn who had no idea that I was researching this book when she and I debated the merits of which DNA test I should take. Also, thank you to Dawn Hurst for so closely checking the “results” when she read for me.
To all of the bloggers who read and take the time to review my books, thank you from the bottom of my heart.
To my readers. Your words mean everything to me. Thank you for your support and for choosing to read my words.
And finally, to the incredible talent of Delta Rae and Rush. The heart and soul of these diverse musicians persistently inspire me through my own life’s journey.
About the Author
Tracey Jerald knew she was meant to be a writer when she would re-write the ending of books in her head when she was a young girl growing up in southern Connecticut. It wasn’t long before she was typing alternate endings and extended epilogues “just for fun”.
After college in Florida, where she obtained a degree in Criminal Justice, Tracey traded the world of law and order for IT. Her work for a world-wide internet startup transferred her to Northern Virginia where she met her husband in what many call their own happily ever after. They have one son.
When she’s not busy with her family or writing, Tracey can be found in her home in north Florida drinking coffee, reading, training for a runDisney event, or feeding her addiction to HGTV.