by C. J. Miller
His words were salve on her hurt. “Do you want to take a walk?” Molly asked.
Matt looked at his watch. “I can take my break a little early. Let me walk Star Fire to the barn.”
Once Matt had Star Fire in her stall, he let his boss know he was taking a break for a few minutes.
They walked across the property and Matt took her gloved hand. She pulled her hand away, removed the glove and then slipped her hand into his. “I like this better.”
The skin of his hands was calloused, the hands of a working man. She liked it and she liked being with him. It hadn’t been this easy with Jimmy. With Jimmy, it had been exciting and fast and hurried. “Thanks for being a friend when I really need one,” Molly said.
“A woman like you must have friends,” Matt said.
“A few.” Theo’s fiancée, Ellie, and Gemma, to name two. But they were busy and being with Matt was different.
“You know I wouldn’t hurt you,” Matt said.
“I know. I wouldn’t hurt you either,” Molly said.
“I want to save enough money so that Danny can come live with me. I want us to be a family again,” Matt said.
“I know,” Molly said. He had talked about renting a place for him and Danny to live and then applying for custody of Danny.
“How do you feel about that?” Matt asked.
“I think you’re an honorable man and Danny is lucky to have you. I’m pulling for you both,” Molly said.
He stopped and put his arms around her waist. “You see me in a light that no one else ever has.”
“Am I wrong to believe that you’re a good person?” Molly asked, hating the doubt that crept in and knowing it had everything to do with Jimmy’s betrayal.
“I hope not. I like to think I’m a good person.” Their eyes met and Molly felt the air around them heat up. He glanced at her lips and her eyes grew wide in anticipation.
Matt seemed unsure.
She gave him the green light. “It’s okay if you want to kiss me.”
Matt smiled. “Thank God, because I don’t think I could wait much longer.”
He slanted his mouth over hers and delivered a sweet, soft kiss. It was like a hundred fireworks ignited. Molly tilted her head and the kiss deepened.
When they broke apart, they were panting.
“Can I take you to dinner tonight? Tomorrow? Anytime?” he asked.
Molly grinned. “Do you have enough gas to get into town? Because I’m almost out.”
“I’ll walk if I have to.”
“It’s forty miles in the freezing cold!”
“That’s nothing if I know you’re waiting on the other end of my trip.”
* * *
Without enough evidence to hold him, Danny had been allowed to come home. Even though Rafe was happy about that, he was brooding about Gemma. He had no outlet for his frustration over Gemma and no one to talk to. He couldn’t call Theo or Flint. Not only would a call this late wake Theo’s baby, Amelia, or scare them, they would kill Rafe for sleeping with their little sister, ruining the relationship and then moping about it.
He wanted to talk to Gemma and tell her what he was feeling. On the heels of their conversation earlier, she was off limits. Knowing he couldn’t have her, he wanted her even more.
Danny knocked on his bedroom door and Rafe set down the book he’d been reading, or rather staring at, by the fire. Rafe was glad to have Danny home. Flint had decided it was better for Danny to stay with Rafe. Rafe had agreed to take responsibility for Danny.
“May I come in?” Danny asked.
“Of course, please. What’s on your mind?”
Danny leaned against the wall. “What happened with Dr. Rand...”
Not a complete thought, but Rafe knew where he was going. “He won’t bother you. He can complain all he wants about you coming home, but it wasn’t his decision.”
Danny shook his head, his too-long hair falling over his eyes. Rafe noted he needed to take him for a haircut soon. “Not that. I’m not worried about Rand running his mouth. I was thinking that you believed me. You know I didn’t do anything to Rand.”
“Of course I believe you,” Rafe said.
Danny looked up at Rafe and his eyes shone with admiration. “Most people don’t. I mean, Grandpa did. Matt does. But everyone else thinks I’m a screw up.”
Rafe heard raw, unguarded pain in the teenager’s voice. He wanted to save him from some of the hurt that he’d harbored growing up in Dead River.
“That isn’t true. I saw some of your teachers around town and they complimented me on you. I don’t deserve the compliment, you’re your own man, but I was proud. You should know that you’re a good person and people see the greatness in you.”
Danny appeared surprised. “They said good things about me? Even after what happened with Dr. Rand?”
“I think especially then. I’m not sure anyone believes that you attacked him or robbed the clinic.”
Danny stood straighter. “I hated living at the center.”
Emotion swelled in Rafe’s chest. He’d hated being separated from Danny too. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“Thanks, Dr. Rafe.”
“You know that I want you to be happy and I want to do the right thing by you,” Rafe said. It wasn’t clear what the right thing was. Adopt him and take him to New York, but away from his brother? Visit Danny in Dead River?
Danny nodded.
“No matter what happens, I’ll make sure you’re okay,” Rafe said. “You can always tell me if you run into a problem.” When he left for New York, he would make sure Danny knew that still applied and he was only a phone call away.
Danny nodded again.
“Now get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow,” Rafe said, feeling himself getting choked up.
“No school,” Danny said, sounding happy.
With the outbreak at the school, classes had been canceled for the duration. “I thought I would take you with me to the clinic. You can help us with a few projects.”
“You’d trust me to do that?” Danny said.
“Of course,” Rafe said. His other motive was to keep Danny close and therefore give him an alibi if Dr. Rand accused Danny of anything else.
Danny grinned. “Night, Dr. Rafe. See you tomorrow.”
Rafe listened to the boy pad down the hallway and close his bedroom door.
Gemma was downstairs sleeping in his office. He’d heard her come inside and he’d hoped she would come upstairs to see him. He hadn’t been that lucky.
He set down his book. He couldn’t focus. He went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Gemma’s makeup bag was sitting on his counter. He picked up a bottle of her perfume and smelled it. Knowing it was an excuse, he carried the satin bag downstairs. He knocked on the office door.
Gemma opened it wearing a pair of light green fleece pajamas. Warm and cozy, they looked inviting. She revealed next to nothing in those pajamas, but he felt hot for her.
He held up the bag. “You left this in my bathroom. I didn’t know if you needed it.”
Gemma took the bag from his outstretched hand. “Thank you.”
“Do you want to come upstairs?”
She shook her head. “Not tonight. Goodnight, Rafe.” She closed the door.
The dark throb of need pulsed inside him. He returned upstairs to shower. A cold shower wouldn’t help, but he touched himself thinking of her, wishing she were with him. If he could take the edge off, he could sleep.
Then the bathroom door opened and Gemma stepped inside. He watched her remove her pajamas and then she slipped into the stall with him.
“I changed my mind,” she said.
He didn’t need an invitation. He took her in his arms.
Hi
s body was primed. Gemma reached between his legs. “What were you doing in here?” A mischievous glint in her eyes told him she knew exactly what he’d been doing.
“Thinking of you.”
“Right answer.”
“Just the truth,” Rafe said.
“I was thinking you could show me what else is in your black box,” Gemma said.
“Danny’s home.”
“I checked on him. He’s asleep in his bedroom and I locked your bedroom door.”
Beyond that, he was worried about her feelings. She had said she couldn’t do this with him and not be hurt. “It’s not a good idea.”
She laid a finger over his mouth. “I want to keep this what it should have been from the start. Just sex.”
Just sex. Before returning to Dead River, those words had been the key to unlocking his libido. Now, they felt hollow. Gemma brought her mouth to his neck and sucked lightly.
Returning her mouth to him, she flicked her tongue along his chest and then down his abdominals. When she reached his navel, she moved lower and then stopped.
She would kill him with anticipation. She stood. “The black box.”
Rafe turned off the water and handed her a towel. They dried quickly and climbed into bed.
He removed the box from his bedside table and flipped open the lid. Gemma took out a few condoms and dropped them onto the mattress. “We’ll need these.” She lifted out a bottle of personal lubricant. “Maybe this.” She dropped massage oils onto the bed and laid down, pulling him with her.
Wiggling beneath him, she hummed with anticipation. Rafe wouldn’t disappoint. He picked up one of the bottles of oil. “Do you prefer lilac or cherry blossom?”
“Lilac. Please.”
He massaged her body, concentrating on the tense muscles of her lower back.
When her body was relaxed, he kissed her, starting at her neck and moving along her spine. She let out a sigh of contentment.
Rolling to her back, she reached for the bottle of oil. With her hands slick, she ran them down his chest to his erection. She closed her hand over him and he inhaled slowly, trying to keep control.
He wanted her to enjoy this night and he wanted to give her more than a massage. Removing her hand, he donned a condom. Standing at the edge of the mattress and opening her thighs, he rested her ankles on his shoulders. She was hot and wet and it was easy for him to slip inside her.
He felt the power of the first full thrust and her body clamping hard around him.
“You feel great,” he said.
“Careful how fast you move. You’re big.”
His male ego enjoyed the compliment and he felt his body growing harder.
Moving slowly at first, he increased his pace. She was moaning and chanting his name. Her feet fell to his sides, giving him complete control over the pace they moved.
He leaned forward and kissed her. She made a sound and her arms came around him. The close contact and her breasts brushing his chest amplified the sensations of moving inside her.
Rafe was close and didn’t know how long he would last. Short, fast jerks and Gemma came hard. Sex with Gemma was familiar and exciting, a combination he hadn’t found with any one woman.
She flipped him onto his back and impaled herself on him. Just being inside her, he wanted to come, but he grappled for control. He was close, so close.
“That was wonderful,” she said. She moved up and down slowly, bringing him away from the brink of completion.
“Now, let me make you feel good.” She swiveled her hips and he grasped them, wanting to draw out the pleasure longer. He felt his body tightening as she brought him close to finishing.
Her lips parted and she took his hands, placing them on her breasts. She lifted her hair and rocked her body back and forth. The steadily increasing pleasure between his hips sent a shudder over him before a powerful orgasm rocketed through him.
Gemma made a sound of contentment and lay on his chest, her wet blond hair tickling his shoulder.
“Tell me why you came in here,” Rafe said. He was still hard inside her and his timing was wrong. But he needed to understand how she was feeling. It hadn’t mattered much before if a woman wanted sex from him after they’d had a fight. But with Gemma, it felt like a lingering problem that had to be addressed.
“I wanted to have sex,” she said.
“Is that all?” he asked, inhaling the scent of her hair. The smell would be in his sheets tomorrow and he liked that.
She sighed. “You know that I’m yours, don’t you, Rafe?” She looked into his eyes and the open honesty in them shook him more than the mind-blowing sex they’d just shared.
“I don’t deserve you,” he said.
“Whether that’s true or not, I am yours. I’ve wanted to be yours since I had my first crush on you in high school.”
He was trying to follow her. “This afternoon you said that you couldn’t be with me.”
“I can’t which is why this is sad for me. For us. I’m yours, but you won’t be able to tell me the same and mean it.”
She extracted herself from him, gathered up her clothes and pulled them on. She started for the door.
“Gemma, wait. Stay the night.”
She appeared uncertain.
“If only for morning sex.” He hated saying the words because they meant he was pretending right along with her that all they had was sex.
She came back to the bed, but it was an empty victory.
* * *
Rafe read the report the CDC had acquired from the United States government detailing their experiences with the virus he had been calling the Dead River virus. Pages of laboratory notes, observations, seventy-five percent of it redacted by large black boxes made it hard to read and understand.
The report had barely enough information to add anything to what he knew of the virus. To his disappointment, the report stated the virus had no known cure and cell samples inevitably died of either the virus or complications from the virus.
No known cure. Inevitable death.
It didn’t bode well for Dead River.
At the end of the report, the researchers and their biographies were listed. Some names and qualifications were removed, but he noted a researcher had completed his undergraduate work in chemistry at the University of Wyoming. Could it be someone local? In a government lab, security would be tight, but could a researcher have gone off the grid or conducted research in their home? Could Mimi have come into contact with the virus that way?
The spread of the Dead River virus could have been an unintentional sequence of events.
Rafe couldn’t put his finger on why that information stood out more than the graphs, charts and information about the virus.
The door to his office flew open and Anand stuck his head inside. “I’ve got a code blue on Hank Bittard.”
Cardiac arrest. Rafe rose to his feet and hurried with Anand to the virus wing. One major downside to the safety procedures was that precious moments were lost getting into their biohazard suits to enter the virus wing.
But Rafe wasn’t taking chances, not with the words “no known cure” ringing in his thoughts. He and Anand hurried to Hank Bittard’s room, unlocking the door and entering. Bittard was flatlining. Rafe ran for their emergency cart.
Anand had grabbed the defibrillation paddles to try to jump his heart. They used the paddles three times and tried every medicine they had at their disposal.
After forty minutes of trying to revive him, Rafe set out his hand to stop Anand from trying the paddles again.
“Time of death: 10:41 p.m.” Though Rafe knew Hank Bittard had been a murderer who had almost infected him, Gemma and Dr. Rand, he was sad to lose a patient. It wasn’t easy no matter the circumstances.
He and
Anand didn’t need to speak. It was not the first patient either of them had lost.
They left the room, locking the door to prevent anyone from going inside, and took time to visit with their other patients to reassure them about what had happened.
Jessica was awake when Rafe entered her room. Annabelle was curled in her mother’s bed. It was often how they slept, their beds pushed together with the side rails down to make a large bed for them to be together.
The whirl of the ventilation required he speak loudly, but he didn’t want to wake Annabelle.
“What happened?” Jessica asked.
“One of our patients passed away,” Rafe said.
“Hank Bittard?” Jessica asked.
Most of the patients had likely seen Rafe and Anand enter Bittard’s room. “Yes.”
Jessica blew out her breath. “I’m glad. Since he was brought here, I’ve been terrified I’d wake up with him waving a knife in my face.”
“He was locked in his room,” Rafe said, though he understood her concern.
“With my baby in here, I’m feeling a little more mama-bear fierce.”
“How are you both doing?” Rafe asked.
“Annabelle sleeps most of the time. I’ve been encouraging her to drink a lot of liquids. Gemma brought some flavored sugar to mix with Annabelle’s drinks to make it more enticing. That helped some.”
“I’m glad.” Rafe began checking their vitals.
“Where’s Gemma tonight?” Jessica asked.
“Home.”
“At her house?”
“No, at mine,” Rafe said.
Jessica smiled. “How’s it going with you two?”
Gemma had likely spoken to her best friend. What could Rafe say? They were having hot sex, but that was the most he would allow. He wouldn’t speak that way to another person, especially not in front of a sleeping child.
“We’re staying friends,” Rafe said.
Jessica looked at him through curious eyes. “What does that mean?”
He felt like a jerk when he explained his job in New York. “I’m planning to leave Dead River. Gemma knows that.”
Jessica frowned. “She told you about Jackson, right? That loser surgeon who broke her heart.”