Something New
&
Unexpected
Second Edition
Sarah Matthews
This Book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, duplicated, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Copyright © 2019, 2021 Second Edition by Sarah Matthews
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Cover Design:
Robin Ludwig Design Inc.
www.gobookcoverdesign.com
Edited by:
EAL Editing Services
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the author.
Contents
Something New & Unexpected
Copyright
About the Book
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About Sarah Matthews
Love Through the Storms
About the Book
Beth is a regular college student dealing with classes and the everyday challenges of her Cerebral Palsy.
Steve is working his way through his first year of grad school at a local sports store and is what most girls dream about. He’s tall, tan, and strong with sparkling blue eyes and an amazing smile, and a kind heart.
Who would have thought an embarrassing mishap with Beth’s wheelchair and a shoe rack in the sports store would change both their lives forever. Their attraction to each other is immediate, and in no time they become serious and almost inseparable. Soon, despite being extremely happy, Beth's insecurities about herself, her disability, and her previous relationships make her begin to doubt Steve's feelings. Will her insecurities, coupled with the long-distance relationship, eventually get the better of her and cost her everything?
Dedication
To my family and friends who believed in me and supported me my entire life.
And my Beckwith friends-both gimpy and not-thanks for the memories and laughs.
Prologue
Present
December 17, 2009
I’m awakened; by what I'm not sure. Sleepily, I look around the room as I snuggle deeper into my oak, California king-size bed. The satin sheets and comforter are warm and cozy with the frigid air I can feel in the room. The digital clock on the bedside table shows it’s 6:00 p.m. Turning my head, I realize I’m alone in the room. With a frown, my gaze travels over the wood walls and floor to the bay window. I can see that the snow is still falling, and it makes me shiver under the covers.
The thought of grabbing my turtleneck-sweater and jeans, which are laying on my power wheelchair near the fireplace along with another pair of jeans, crosses my mind, but it seems too much trouble. And seeing those clothes brings another frown to my face as I scan the room again, feeling as if I’ve missed something. I see movement behind the rocking chair through the sliding glass door which leads to the deck. It makes me smile.
The house is quiet, and again I consider getting up and going to the master bathroom to my left, but the bed is so warm, I really don’t want to make the effort to leave it. I lay back down, bringing the comforter to my chin and gaze up to see if the two fans on either side of the crystal chandelier are turned off. Thankfully, they are. The room is cold enough without them on. At that thought, I raise up and look at the fireplace again, and see the embers have just about gone out. No wonder it’s so cold.
Steve comes back in the room with firewood in his arms. I turn my head to look at him and immediately start laughing. It’s been the coldest winter in Indiana for as long as I can remember, and he’s only wearing a light jacket, white boxers with reindeer, which I got him last Christmas, and brown Dr. Marten boots.
“What's so funny?” he asks, putting the firewood down by the fireplace.
“Nothing... just you.” I continue to laugh.
“Me? You think I look funny?”
“No... I know you do.”
“Funny... funny? You think I look funny?” he asks again with a smile, coming toward me.
I shake my head still laughing a little, as he gets closer to the bed.
“I'll show you funny,” he says, grinning mischievously.
Just then he jumps on the bed and starts tickling me, and I begin laughing hysterically, because I’m very ticklish, and jump at the same time.
“Your hands are freezing! I can feel them through the sheets!”
“I know. It feels like thirty below out there.”
“Then go get the fire goin’ again,” I say, with a smile.
“Okay.” He smiles, and gives me a kiss, before sliding off the bed.
Walking back over to the fireplace, he takes off his Docs, tosses them toward the rocker, then unzips his jacket and takes it off before playfully tossing it at me, and I catch it with a smile.
I’m lying on my side with my head in my hand watching him. I pull his jacket closer to me, it smells like him, mixed with winter. Watching him add more wood to the fire, I can’t help but grin and think how sexy his 6’3” muscular frame is. He works out like I do, but he also runs five miles a day. He’s tan—unlike me, who’s fair, given the season, and only 4’11” sadly. Thanks to his Italian heritage, his tan is still golden, but not as much as it was over the summer. His short, light brown hair is a bit longer on top and so soft. I know because earlier I’d been running my fingers through it. His short beard is just as soft, and I love it.
After a while, he gets up, backing away from the fireplace, as he turns around and starts walking toward the bed. When he reaches it, he grabs his jacket, tosses it toward the rocker, then moves the blankets and I scoot over. He climbs into bed and tosses his boxers toward the rocker as well, before pulling the blankets around himself. Once he’s comfortable, I scoot back close to him. When I do, he moves his arm and puts it around me, pulling me even closer and I put my head on his shoulder.
As we lie there, he runs his fingers through my long, chestnut brown hair. He asks, “What are you thinking about?”
“That I can’t believe it’s after six already. We blew off the whole day,” I answer.
“What!” he says, shocked, then we both start laughing. “Are you hungry?” he asks, a few minutes later.
“No… not really.”
“I can't believe it's been three years already,” he says, after a while. “It seems like only yesterday I met you.”
“I know what you mean. It's gone by so fast,” I agree.
He turns on his side to face me, and props himself on his elbow. “You’re still as beautiful as you were then, you know.”
“Really... ‘cause I—”
Before I can finish my sentence, he lea
ns in and kisses me to shut me up. He moves to his back as I roll on top of him. I thread my fingers through his hair as his hands slowly travel up my thighs, and I begin thinking about the day we met as we start to make love again...
Chapter 1
Three Years Earlier...December 17, 2006
It was the day after I’d gotten home from the University of Illinois for Christmas. I was at the mall with my best friend, Jo, doing some last-minute Christmas shopping for my family. I know, leave it to me to wait until the very last minute to get everything. The year before was so much easier, I just bought everyone in my family a U of I hoodie. As we went from store to store, we talked about everything from school to what we were going to do during the summer. By about five, I’d found everyone's gift, except my brother’s. I just couldn’t find the large Notre Dame hoodie he wanted in blue. We went to almost every sports store in and around the mall, and no store had one... not even Dick's Sporting Goods.
I was ready to give up and go get something to eat, when Jo said, “Beth, we haven't gone in there yet,” pointing to Halftime Sports on our left.
“Jo, we've been here for almost five hours, I just want to go eat... I'm hungry. I’ll come back tomorrow or Tuesday and see what they have.”
“Okay, but why don't you just go in there and look around while I'm in the restroom, you never know what you'll find? If you don't find anything while I'm gone we can leave when I come back.”
So, I reluctantly agreed to go in, not knowing it would change my life.
So there I was trying to get through the store with my chair, not seeing any hoodies what so ever, when my wheel got stuck to a rack of hanging clothes. As I backed up to get straight, I didn’t realize the shoe rack behind me. Suddenly, I heard, Thud! At that point I knew I’d hit something. As the shoes began to fall to the ground, I thought, Shit! Shit... shit... shit, but said, “Crap,” repeatedly instead. As I murmured to myself, a store employee came over to help pick up the shoes that fell.
“I'm so sorry,” I apologized. “I didn't know the rack was behind me.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” he replied, picking up the shoes. “It's not your fault that the aisles aren’t wide enough.”
Before he could say anything else, I immediately tried to take responsibility for what happened.
“No, I should’ve been watching where I was going.”
“No, really, it’s no big deal,” he assured me, as he put the shoes back on the rack.
Once he finished, he got up and turned toward me.
When I saw his face, I began to feel a little lightheaded.
“Hi, I'm Steve.” He smiled, introducing himself.
I sat there for a moment, captivated by his smile and sea blue eyes, unable to say anything. Suddenly, I realized that I should tell him my name. I knew it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, but it felt like five minutes.
“I'm... sorry,” I stammered. “I'm... I’m... Beth,” I introduced myself, still stammering.
“Well, Beth, can I help you find anything?” he asked.
“Yes, actually you can. I'm looking for a Notre Dame hoodie for my brother.”
“I don't know what we have left, but we can look and see.”
As I followed him, I couldn’t help but notice how tall, tan, and toned he was. I just couldn’t stop looking at him period... especially his butt. We finally stopped at the wall, which happened to have more shoes on it, and I stopped a few feet away from it.
“You can come closer, you won't hit anything,” he commented, as he looked through the rack. “Unfortunately, it looks like all we have left are long-sleeved t-shirts,” he added, a few seconds later.
“Okay,” I said, a little bummed.
“I'm sorry we have none left.”
“It's okay, it's just I've been to every store... even Dick's... and none of them had any.”
“Not even Dick's?” he asked, with a perplexed look on his face.
“Not even Dick's,” I replied.
“Well... I know your brother wanted a hoodie, but would he settle for a long-sleeved t-shirt instead?”
“He’s gonna have to.” I chuckled.
“Okay, what color and size?”
Not seeing any in blue, I said, “Um… the gray, in large.”
“Here we are. I'll carry it for you.”
“Thanks. I wish it was as easy as last year. I got everyone in my family an Illinois hoodie,” I said, when we reached the register.
“Oh, you go to U of I?”
“Yeah,” I replied, unenthusiastically.
“What's wrong with Illinois?”
“Oh... nothing... it’s just not here. It's really expensive... with out-of-state tuition and all.”
“Oh... I see.”
While I was at the register paying, Jo walked in.
“I see you found somethin’ after all.” She smiled.
“Yeah... it's not what he wanted, but I think he'll like it anyway.”
“It's Morgan; he likes anything you get him.”
“I know.”
I finished paying for his shirt then wished Steve a “Merry Christmas.”
As Jo and I started to head out of the store I heard, “Hey... wait!”
I spun my chair around and saw Steve coming toward me. I totally expected him to say that I forgot something, but that wasn’t what he said. Instead he said, “Would you like to go to dinner?”
At the question, I was a little confused and I knew I looked it. “What?” I asked, starting toward him.
“Would you like to go to dinner?” he asked again.
At that point, I realized what he was asking me and hoped he didn’t think I was blowing him off. “Do you have anything for me to write on?” I finally asked.
We both headed back to the checkout counter, as I looked in my purse for a pen.
“Do you also have something to write with? ...Sorry.”
He got out a piece of paper and a pen, and I wrote down my number.
“Call me and we'll talk.” I smiled when I finished writing it down.
He smiled back.
Jo and I left the store and finally went to dinner, but not before I looked back and noticed Steve putting my number in his back pocket with a grin.
Chapter 2
Present
“Is Chinese okay tomorrow?” Steve hollers, from the kitchen.
“Yeah, that's fine,” I holler back.
I faintly hear him say, “Yeah, that'll be fine. What time? ...Okay, see y’all then. Drive safe ...Bye.”
As he comes back down the hall, I sit up in bed, Indian style, with the blankets covering me. When he walks in the bedroom, in his boxers, with a tray of food and something to drink, I ask him what time my parents will be here tomorrow.
“Your mom said between four-thirty and five.”
“Are they gonna call us when they’re about a half-hour away so we can order the food?”
“Nope. They're gonna order it, but they’ll call when they leave the restaurant so we can get the table set.”
“Oh, okay. Gives us more time to be lazy.” I grin.
“I know.” He grins back as he comes over to the bed.
Steve sits down across from me, and puts the tray over my lap.
“This looks great, babe.” I look down at all the food. “Did she say why they wanted to have dinner instead of lunch?” I ask, leaning down to eat my tomato soup.
“She said that they didn't want to have to rush in the morning,” he answers, before taking a bite of his grilled cheese.
“Oh, okay. Totally understandable.”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” he says, as I sit fighting the cheese on my spoon, “Your mom said that she and RJ baked pies all day today while Sam was outside with Matt.”
“They did? I bet that was interesting.” I laugh a little.
“Apparently it wasn't too bad. Your mom said she got all of the pies bak
ed... and not with a huge mess.”
“That's unusual.”
“I know.” He laughs. “She also said that she's bringing a sugar cream tomorrow for dessert.”
“Yum... I can't wait.”
After I finish my soup and take a drink of my tea, Steve lifts the tray and puts it beside me.
“That was very good, hon. You made an excellent choice,” I compliment, leaning in to kiss him.
“Well, I try.” He smirks.
“You know, if it wasn't for your cooking I wouldn't be here,” I tell him, with a hint of sass.
“Well, if it wasn't for the sex, I wouldn't be here,” he jokes, in response.
I suck in the tiniest breath. “You ass!” I playfully shove him backwards.
“Come here!” he says, as he starts to fall, and grabs my arm.
I fall on top of him, accidentally hitting him in the face with my arm. “Oh... are you okay?” I ask, laughing.
“Yeah, I'm okay... I'm used to it by now,” he answers, and we both laugh.
We lay next to each other, in the middle of the bed, my head on his chest. After a bit, Steve takes his arm out from around me and I lift my head as he sits up. He reaches over and grabs the bowl of chocolate covered strawberries off the tray. As he sets the bowl between us, I prop myself up on my elbow.
“Were you nervous on our first date?” he asks, as he feeds me a strawberry.
“Yeah. Weren’t you?” I ask, still chewing.
“Yeah... especially because you finally said yes,” he replies, eating the rest of the strawberry.
“Oh. I thought it was because you cooked dinner instead of taking me somewhere.”
“Well... that was part of it...”
“Then why did you do it? You didn't have to.”
“Yeah, I know... but I figured I only had one shot so I'd better make it good.”
“And it was,” I assure him. “And to think I almost didn't show up,” I muse, a few seconds later, as he puts the bowl back on the tray.
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