Cherished

by HELEN HARDT

  My heart jolts—in a good or bad way, I’m not sure. I will give it to her, though. It’s hers. It will never belong to anyone else.

  “Of course. I was never sure why you wouldn’t take it in the first place.”

  She sighs. “I guess I was hoping… Hoping maybe you’d change your mind and give us beyond two months. But now I want to take things day by day, because each day with you gets better, Dale. Each day I love you more, and even if you can’t commit to forever with me, I want the beautiful necklace to remember our time together.”

  “It was always yours, Ash. I knew it as soon as I placed it around your neck. No one else could ever wear it.”

  She kisses me on the cheek so hard that I nearly fall over into the water.

  “Let’s go get it now!”

  I chuckle. “All right. I’m turning into a prune anyway.” I climb out of the tub and hand Ashley her robe.

  We—Penny at our heels—head into the house and back into the master suite, dripping water onto the hardwood as we walk. I open the top drawer of my chest and find the velvet box buried under my boxer briefs. I open it and finger the necklace.

  It’s worth all of two hundred bucks. I could buy Ashley something so much more elegant, but this is a gift from my heart.

  “Turn around,” I tell her, “and lift your hair off your neck.”

  Easier said than done, as her hair is wet and sticking to her creamy skin. But she manages, and I clasp the garnet necklace around her.

  She turns to face me. “Well?”

  “You’re beautiful,” I say. “It was made for you. Now lose the robe.”

  Slowly, she unties the terrycloth sash and parts the two sides of the white robe, letting it fall from her shoulders into a heap at her feet.

  Her pink skin shines with the moisture left from the hot tub, and the garnets around her neck seem to glow from the light that lives within her.

  “I’ve never seen you look more beautiful,” I say on a breath.

  She giggles nervously. “With my hair all wet and sticky?”

  “You look perfect. Perfectly delectable.” I stalk toward her—

  Only to be interrupted by my phone.

  “Damn!” I shake my head. “I’m going to ignore it.”

  That’s not like me, and Ashley seems to know.

  “It’s okay,” she says. “Go ahead. It might be important.”

  “Nothing’s important at ten o’clock at night.”

  “That’s my point. Anyone who bothers you at this hour will have a good reason. Go ahead. I’d never forgive myself if I made you miss an important call.”

  Yeah, she has a point. Still, I resist. I’ve actually felt good the past few days. Telling her about Donny nearly drowning opened up a part of my heart I feared was closed for all time, and the weirdest part? Nothing bad came along with it. Sure, I still have secrets buried inside, but they didn’t come roaring out as I feared they would.

  I reluctantly pick up my phone. It’s not a number I recognize. “Dale Steel.”

  “Mr. Steel, this is Dr. Jane Forrester. I’m the on-call cardiologist at St. Mary’s. I have some news about Floyd Jolly.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m afraid Mr. Jolly has developed sepsis.”

  “That’s an infection, right?”

  “Yes, a systemic infection. It’s uncommon after heart surgery, as we administer antibiotics, but it does happen.”

  I inhale. “All right. What does this mean for his prognosis?”

  “He’s running a high fever and his kidneys are failing. We’re administering more antibiotics as well as continuing his pain meds. He’s on oxygen. But I have to be honest with you. It doesn’t look good.”

  I drop my mouth open.

  What am I supposed to feel?

  I’ve felt more in the past three days with Ashley than I’ve ever allowed myself to feel, and right now, I feel…

  Not sad, exactly. Not angry. Not happy, of course. But it’s definitely something that I can’t pinpoint.

  Regret? Perhaps a touch. But why? Floyd is the one who should be having regrets.

  Resignation? Yeah, that’s definitely there, kind of mixed with the tiny smidge of regret.

  “What is it?” Ashley asks softly.

  I don’t answer her.

  “Mr. Steel?”

  “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “We’ve called in the infectious disease specialist, and we have the internist on call looking at him now. If his kidneys continue to fail, we may have to administer dialysis.”

  “Okay. I see.”

  “And there’s one more thing.”

  “Yes?”

  “He wants to see you.”

  I’m not sure why her words surprise me, but they do. “Why?”

  “He knows his situation, Mr. Steel. We’ve been honest with him. His body is weak from his withdrawal and from the open-heart surgery. It’s not likely that he’ll live.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Ashley

  In a robotic tone—only a tiny sliver of his dark red shines through—Dale explains to me what the doctor on the phone said about his birth father.

  “You should go,” I say.

  “Not tonight.”

  “What if he doesn’t make it through the night? He wants to see you.”

  “Ashley, I’m exhausted. I can’t do it tonight. I’m sorry if that disappoints you, but I just can’t.”

  Don’t push.

  Those words have become my mantra with Dale. But a man is dying here. The man who fathered him.

  Then again, if my father had lived longer and then asked for me on his deathbed, would I have gone?

  Yes, I would have. Out of curiosity if nothing else. Part of me wants to know if the birthmark on my shoulder came from him. Or my full lips. My mother’s are thin.

  But Dale and I are two different people, and he’s already met his birth father. Indeed, he already spent a whole day at the hospital during the man’s bypass surgery.

  “I understand,” I finally say, “but don’t you think you should tell your parents?”

  He stays silent for a few seconds. Then, “Yeah, we probably should.”

  My heart jumps. “We?”

  He nods. “We. Would you come with me?”

  “Of course! Do you think they’re still up?”

  “Dad will be. He never goes to bed before midnight. Mom is a crapshoot. She might be.”

  “Then let’s go.” I grab my clothes and start getting dressed.

  “Ashley…”

  I nearly stumble as I try to put my leg into my jeans. “Yeah?”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For just… I don’t know. For being with me.”

  I stumble toward him with only one leg in my jeans and melt into his arms. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

  “The necklace looks lovely on you.” Jade smiles.

  We’re sitting in Talon’s office, where Dale just told his parents about Floyd.

  I touch the necklace, letting its jewels slide beneath my fingertips. “I’m honored that he wants me to have it.”

  “I knew when I gave it to him that he’d make it a special gift to someone, and I see that he has.”

  Warmth coats me. I have Dale’s mother’s blessing, and that means everything.

  “I don’t want to go tonight, Dad,” Dale is saying to Talon. “I just can’t.”

  “Fair enough,” Talon says. “We’ll go first thing in the morning.”

  “What if he doesn’t make it?”

  “Then he won’t make it. You have nothing to feel guilty about, son. But you do need to call your brother.”

  Dale sighs and messes with his still-damp hair. “I hate to pull the father-son card, but would you do it?”

  “I’ll call him. I wish he’d stayed another day. Then he’d be here and could see Floyd one last time.”

  “He may still be able to,” Dale says. “We don’t know for sure
that he’s going to die.”

  “That’s true.” Talon yawns.

  Talon’s tone isn’t convincing any of us. Dale’s birth father’s days are numbered. I’ll respect Dale’s decision to wait until morning. I just hope Floyd can hold out.

  “Thanks, Dad,” Dale says. “I owe you one.”

  “You owe me nothing. Fathers take care of their kids. For life.” Talon’s eyes take on a sadness.

  I look to Jade, who’s watching her husband, her expression worried.

  We walk back to the guesthouse hand in hand.

  “Your dad had a weird expression on his face when he said that fathers take care of their kids.”

  Dale nods. “Yeah, he gets that way sometimes. Usually when he’s thinking about his own father.”

  “The one who died in prison.”

  “Yeah. No one talks much about him, but it’s clear that he wasn’t the best father in the world.”

  “I don’t imagine he was, if he died in prison.”

  “He didn’t go to prison until late in life. He barely spent a year there, and he died under mysterious circumstances.”

  I widen my eyes. “Meaning…?”

  “Meaning he was in great health and just died one night. His heart literally just stopped. No one knows why.”

  “Well, he was old, I imagine.”

  “Not that old. In his sixties.”

  That is odd. My father was young when he passed, but I know the reason for his death. He was beaten and violated until his body couldn’t take any more. Even now, I can’t bring much emotion to the surface.

  “That’s pretty much all I know about my grandfather,” Dale says.

  “Why was he in prison?”

  “I don’t know for sure, but there’s some record that he withheld evidence in a federal investigation.”

  “What type of investigation?”

  “I don’t know. The records were sealed, and like I said, the family doesn’t talk about it. I’ve talked about it with my brother, sisters, and cousins. We’re not even sure if our parents know.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. They have to know.”

  Dale gets distant, then. “I think they do. For a while, I wasn’t sure, but I recently learned something, and…”

  “And what?”

  “I can’t. I don’t want to talk about this. Not right now. I’m too tired.”

  My instinct tells me to push him, but I know better. He’s already given me more than I expected tonight and in the last few days. I can’t risk what we have.

  “Let’s go to bed,” I say.

  “Best idea I’ve heard all night.” Dale takes my hand and leads me to the bedroom.

  I don’t expect anything, so I’m more than surprised when he grabs me and crushes his mouth to mine.

  Exhaustion weighs on both of us, and I feel it in this kiss. His lips don’t slide over mine with as much passion as they normally do, yet I feel his desire almost more than usual. As if the kiss is occurring in that alpha dreamland between wakefulness and sleep, and we’re cloaked in burgundy translucence.

  I don’t know how our clothes end up off, but they do, and we’re naked, writhing against each other as we kiss.

  Dale breaks the kiss and lays me gently on the bed. He doesn’t speak, just spreads my legs and buries his tongue between them.

  Still in dreamland, still floating in that red-wine cloud. Dale devours me with his lips and tongue, his growls making the cloak around us more vibrant.

  I sink into the soft bed, grasping the covers. I’m still in alpha heaven, where climaxes are vibrant and they come quickly.

  He nips at my clit, and I soar instantly toward the peak. Almost there… Almost there…

  When one of his long, thick fingers breaches my channel.

  “God! Dale!” The orgasm breaks me into pieces like shattering crystal. Cracks everywhere, like the jagged glass of a broken mirror. All in a good way as my molecules find their way back together.

  Back together, back together, back together.

  One. One with Dale because now he’s inside me, his cock stretching and burning me, tunneling through me like a baton of fire.

  Ashley. I love you, Ashley. Fuck, I love you so much.

  The words float around me, encased in silk. Yes, he’s saying them, but even so, they fly directly into my mind, as if, for one timeless moment, we’re truly one.

  Our minds have melded. Our hearts have joined like our bodies.

  And still we exist in dreamland, in the Syrah-hued haze.

  And still…

  And still…

  I’m on fire. At the same time, ice shrouds me. I fly higher, higher, and higher still.

  Until…

  Until…

  “God, I love you.” He thrusts hard into me, holding our bodies together as if they’re no longer joined but have fused into one being.

  He fills every empty crevice inside me. Everything bad in my life ceases to exist in this one tender moment.

  And I know…

  I know…

  This won’t end after two months.

  This won’t end.

  Ever.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Dale

  “I need you here,” I tell Ashley in the morning.

  “I need to be with you,” she says.

  I called St. Mary’s earlier. Floyd Jolly is still alive and still wants to see Donny and me. After a quick call to Donny, I learned he has court today and can’t get here. He plans to come tomorrow—if it’s not too late.

  I want to tell Ashley to come. That I need her. That I need her more than I ever thought I could need anyone.

  But—

  “This is something I have to do alone.”

  Truth be told, I don’t know how I’ll react to seeing my birth father on his deathbed. I’m still struggling with the knowledge of what happened to my real father. Questions. So many questions. Not my father. Not Talon Steel. Strong and muscular Talon Steel. How? And why? And what does my grandfather have to do with all of it?

  But those thoughts have to wait. I’m a master of burying things, and I bury this now. It doesn’t change anything.

  I’m going to face Floyd alone. I’ve done enough opening up to Ashley for now.

  “All right.” Ashley finally relents. “Be careful, please. Driving, I mean.”

  I chuckle softly. “I’ve been driving for twenty years.”

  “I know, but you’re upset.”

  “I’m not that upset.” Not a lie at all. I’m feeling… I’m not sure what I’m feeling. I can’t think about my father and what he went through. As for Floyd… It’s an odd sensation to know that one of the two people who made you is dead. When it first happened, I was only ten, and I didn’t think about it in those terms. Now? My last link to my body will be gone from earth soon.

  The emotion is bleak but not sad. I’d likely feel much worse if Floyd had ever been a true father to me.

  “Just come back to me,” Ashley says. “Promise?”

  I haven’t been able to promise her anything beyond the next two months, but I can promise this.

  “I’ll be back,” I say. “Count on it.”

  “He doesn’t have much time,” the nurse says. “Try not to upset him.”

  “I have no intention of upsetting him. He called me here. He’s the one who says he needs to talk to me.”

  “I understand, just—”

  I whisk past her and into Floyd’s ICU room. An aide stands next to him, checking his vitals. I clear my throat, and she turns.

  “May I help you?”

  “I’m here to see the patient.”

  “Okay. I’m just finishing up here.” She makes some notes, walks to the door, and sets the chart in its place.

  Floyd Jolly is pale, his eyes barely open. He looks like he’s dying. Which he is, literally. He doesn’t look my way. Does he remember that he asked to see me?

  So I’m surprised when I hear his voice.

  “Com
e, Dale. Sit down.”

  A chair sits on the other side of his bed. I walk to it slowly and sit. He still hasn’t looked at me.

  “I’m here,” I say. “What do you want?”

  Still, he looks straight ahead. “I’m dying.”

  “I know.”

  He grunts.

  Did he expect me to say I’m sorry? That I wish he weren’t dying? I simply have no feelings on the matter. None.

  “Why did you want to see me?”

  “Can you call me Dad?” he asks. “Just once?”

  Really? This is why he called me here? To play the father card?

  “No, I can’t.”

  “Please, just once.”

  My father—my real father—would tell me to do it. To give him his dying wish. But I’m not letting Floyd off the hook that easily.

  “Why me?” I demand. “Why not your other son? My brother? Or why not one of the other kids you probably fathered and then abandoned?”

  He doesn’t reply.

  We sit in silence for a few minutes that seem like years until he finally speaks again.

  “I haven’t asked you for anything,” he says. “You have all the money in the world, and I haven’t asked you for a penny. I could have used it.”

  “You speak the truth,” I admit, “but I don’t owe you anything either.”

  “You owe me your life.”

  Shit. Really? My father said that to me after Floyd’s heart attack. It’s the truth, of course, but I’m not buying. “So you had a climax inside my mother at the right time. You made me. She had a significant part in it as well, and she stuck around. There’s a hell of a lot more to being a father than fertilizing an egg.”

  A few more moments of silence, and I’m about ready to stand and leave when—

  “Please.”

  “For fuck’s sake.” I push my hand through my hair. “Fine. Dad. You satisfied now?”

  A gurgling sound, and then he produces a sputtering cough. I’m about ready to call the nurse when he stops.

  “Sorry about that.”

  “No problem. You want to tell me why I’m here now?”

  “Yes. There’s a reason why I tried to find you and your brother, and it wasn’t about your money.”