With a nod, the doctor left, and I buried my face in my husband’s chest. “I can’t…” The sobs choked out the rest of my words.
“Hush,” he murmured as he held me and ran his hand through my hair—hair which I’d lose in the coming months. The thought only served to make me cry harder. “Everything is going to be okay. You know that. Your mother had the same thing, and she was okay.”
“After they took both of her breasts,” I sobbed. “And they caught hers before it was as big as mine. And my Gramma died from the breast cancer she had!”
“That was a long time ago, baby. You know a lot of cancer survivors now. Think about it, Tawny.” He took my face between his palms, looking at me with soft eyes. “You can do this. You’re the strongest woman I know. You’ve got this, baby. You do.”
Gulping back the tears, the pain, the fear, I looked into his eyes and found something there, deep in them. He had faith in me—like real, true faith. His words weren’t said just to placate me. He meant them.
“If they take one breast, I want them to take both of them,” I whispered. My hands took him by the biceps, and I gave them a squeeze. Those were one of my favorite parts of his body. My tits were his.
“So what?” He smiled at me. “As long as I have you, that’s all that matters to me. You should know that already, Tawny Harlow.” His lips pressed against mine, sending energy zinging through me.
When he ended the kiss, I looked at him. “Can you really accept me without the fun-bags?”
“Let me answer that question with one of my own.” He leaned back in his seat and pulled me to sit on his lap. “If I lost the ability to sexually perform any function at all, would you leave me or love me any less?”
My mind raced back to when he wouldn’t let me sleep with him, back before he took the meds needed to stop the episodes he’d have and had hurt me during. I’d gone cold on the man.
Sure, I’d realized what I’d done, and it was early on in our relationship, but I’d done it. I’d even considered leaving him. And in a way, I did leave him back then—I’d shut myself off to him.
I’d done that to him, but here he was, telling me he’d accept me with or without breasts. I didn’t deserve this man. But he was mine, and I’d make damn sure he knew I would never shut myself off from him again, no matter what might happen. “I nearly made that mistake once. I’ll never do it again.”
“Okay, then don’t you worry about me. I’ll love you no matter what the hell happens. You can take that to the bank. Now, let’s get your face all cleaned up ‘cause you’ve kinda ruined your makeup, and you have to work with these people. I don’t want anyone to think you’re taking this hard. You’ve got to show the patients around your hospital that it’s a place you come to be healed.” He wiped my face with a makeup wipe he dug out of my purse.
I watched his face as he carefully cleaned me up. My heart pounded as I looked at him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m never letting you go, August Harlow.”
“Good. I’m not ever letting you go either. So, let’s go do this thing and start kicking cancer’s ass. You know me—I love a good fight. I’ve got your back, baby. And with me right behind you, you can’t lose.”
Climbing off his lap, I put my feet on the floor. My husband had lived through things that were more like nightmares than reality. If he could get through everything he had, then I trusted him to get me through my battle.
After picking up the paperwork from the receptionist, we headed to go get the scan done, me leaning against August the whole way. “You know that you’re my hero, right?”
“Haven’t I always been?” August kissed the side of my head. “I’ll never stop being that for you, baby. Not ever.”
August
Leila, Mom, Dad, Tawny’s parents and I sat in a waiting room as my wife went through the surgery to remove her breasts. Thankfully, the cancer had not spread anywhere else; it had been caught in time. Not in time to save her breasts, but in time to save her life.
Sure, her life would still be in danger until she was done with the chemo and radiation treatments, but getting the tumor out of her body was the beginning of the fight.
Tawny had kissed the kids early that morning as they slept. We had to leave in the wee hours to get her to the hospital. Prepping had to be done and paperwork too. It was an arduous process, and I knew Tawny hated every last bit of it.
Following the diagnosis, Tawny quickly began to feel bad. Her energy was sapped. She laid around a lot and stared off into space, a thing she’d never been prone to.
Her fellow nurses had all come to see her right before she headed to the O.R. My wife was surrounded by people who loved and cared about her. So much positive energy was focused directly on her.
Maybe that’s probably why it surprised me when she cried and clung to me before heading in. I’d never felt so damn powerless as I told her, “It’s all going to be okay. Have faith, baby. Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry.”
I watched as the anesthesiologist pushed a syringe into her IV line before giving me a nod. “She’s going to be just fine.”
As we all went down the long hallway, I watched Tawny’s green eyes change. She even smiled as I wiped the tears from her eyes as rolled toward the O.R. “There’s my girl. I’ll be right there when you wake up. You can count on me. I love you, Tawny Harlow.”
“I love you too, August Harlow. Did you notice that the moon was full when we came in this morning?” She blinked long and slowly as the medicine began to take her under.
“Yeah. You and I can watch it out the hospital window tonight. It’s a date,” I said, then kissed her forehead as we arrived at the last set of doors that I couldn’t go through.
Her words were slow and sloppy, “It’s… a… date.”
We’d been told it would take a few hours. Taking off two breasts isn’t a thing you do quickly. And Tawny wanted them to make sure they did what they could to minimize scarring.
I told her she could get implants later if she wanted. To which she told me that her mother hadn’t, and she didn’t think she’d want them either. There were bras that had fake boobs in them. She’d wear them.
When she stopped and looked at me, asking me if I wanted her to have the fake tits, her concern was obvious. Of course, I didn’t want her to get anything she didn’t want herself, and I let her know that. I’d love her no matter what. I’d find her sexy, no matter what, too.
Her mother seemed to be taking it the worst. As if Tawny’s predisposition to breast cancer was all her fault. “I wish this hadn’t happened to my baby.” She wrung her hands in her lap. “I remember going into surgery like it was yesterday. I was so afraid I’d never come out of it.”
Her husband took her hand, pulling it his lips, kissing the top of it. “But you did come out of it, and you made it through all the other stuff, too. You’ve been cancer-free for a very long time now, and Tawny will see the same results. You gave her the resilience to do that, you know.”
“I also gave her my DNA, making this happen to her.” She put her head on his shoulder. “If I could fix this, I would.”
“Well, we all have our battles to go through,” I said to try to ease her mother’s mind. “This one was yours, and its Tawny’s now, too. Frankly, I’m glad she has you as a success story. She’s said it more than once since we found this out, ‘If Mom can kick cancer’s butt, then so can I.’”
“She has to.” Her mother looked at me with concern. “She has to do it for those babies you two have.” Then her hand went to her mouth, and her eyes went wide.
Her husband asked, “What’s the matter?”
“Her daughters…” she murmured.
So, there was that to add to my worries for my children—our two daughters would be predisposed to breast cancer, too.
Great…
So, I had to tell myself the same thing I’d told Tawny’s mother. We all have our battles to fight, and this might well be their battles as well. My sto
mach knotted as I thought about sitting in the same waiting room two more time in my life, waiting to see if my daughters would make it through surgery okay.
I needed to talk to my therapist to help deal with this. But there was no way I was leaving the hospital to do that. I had to buck up and suck it up. I’d get to have my weak moment later. Right now, I had to be the hero again for my wife and our families.
Another hour ticked by slowly before her doctor came to our waiting room. “She’s out. She did well. Other than the tumor, she’s in perfect health. I foresee a speedy recovery since she’s in such great shape.” He looked around the room at all of us. “And with a great support system like this, I’m sure she’ll be back to her usual bubbly self in no time at all.”
“Can I see her?” I asked as I got up.
He nodded. “Yeah, you can come with me. She’ll want to see you as soon as she wakes up.”
Every step took me closer to her and that alone made my heart swell with emotion. My wife had made it through the worst part, and now all we had to do was get well again.
Tawny
Day one sucked ass. Day two was worse than day one. But then day three came around, and I felt a little bit better, and on that day, I found hope.
If I could feel better, then that feeling would only increase more and more as each day passed. Some days were harder than others, but none of them were as bad as the first two days after my surgery.
And with the successful recovery came the strength of knowing I’d beat a thing that a lot of people hadn’t. I’d kicked cancer’s ass!
A couple of years had passed, and I became an advocate for breast cancer patients at Cedars. I helped women who found themselves in the same position I’d been in do everything they needed help with, including picking out the wigs they’d wear while dealing with hair loss.
Thanks to being married to a billionaire, I had access to money and had used some of that to help women during the tough times of fighting the same battle I’d fought.
With Leila’s help, we made a line of wigs, using ultrasoft materials for the caps, and synthetic hair that was silky and soft, too. The product we ended up with was a cut above what had previously been on the market.
Our wigs were highly sought after as they weren’t just the most comfortable wigs in the world, they were beautiful, too. Every cent of those profits went to making more and freely giving them to people who needed them.
It was a mission that filled Leila and me with a sense of giving back.
I was sitting in the game room with the kids. The youngest was now two and a half. Taylor was everywhere, getting into everything she could. Cole was five and still moody; he was chastising his baby sister for throwing the car he’d been playing with off the racetrack. “Hey, stop it, you pain in the butt!”
“Cole! Don’t talk to her that way. She’s just in her terrible twos—she can’t help but to be a pain in the butt.” I wagged my finger at him. “All of you were the same exact way at that age.”
Calum laughed. “Then why’d you keep on having kids, Mom?” He’d turned thirteen last week. My first born was entering his teens, and it wasn’t an easy thing to take.
Calum was the spitting image of his handsome father. I foresaw the girls throwing themselves at him very soon and wondered how I’d take that. Poorly, I thought.
Tabitha, now six, went to retrieve the car her younger sister had thrown. She took it to Cole. “Here you go. See, it’s not so hard to deal with her. You just gotta have patience.”
He snatched the car from her outstretched hand. “No, I don’t.” Grumbling something indiscernible, Cole went back to playing with his race cars.
I sat there, watching all the kids play and argue, kids being kids, and thought how lucky I was to have each one of them.
I’d been a mother since I was eighteen. I supposed I didn’t know how not to be one. Even though Taylor was only two and a half, I already saw her growing up so fast.
My heart stirred, and my stomach went tight. I ran my hands over my chest. I didn’t have the bra with the fake boobs on. I preferred to go braless when I was at home. It was just more comfortable.
I’d had big boobs since I was fifteen. Although it wasn’t what I’d planned or even wanted, not having to deal with big tits wasn’t so bad. It was kinda good as a matter of fact.
Having August as a husband helped. He’d been true to what he’d said. He did still love me, and if he didn’t find me sexy, I sure as hell couldn’t tell. His hands still roamed over my entire body every time we made love.
Sure, there weren’t any nipples to tease, but he’d kiss my scars and murmur sexy things…well, dirty things the way only August could. And when his lips touched those scars, it did something to me. It sent heat through me just the same way it did when there were double Ds there.
August was down to only one therapy session a week on Wednesdays. My work schedule changed; I only worked on Tuesdays and Thursdays. August took care of the kids those days. Leila and I handled the wig business from our homes the rest of the week. Things were good; we all stayed busy doing good things for others, the way August promised John Black he would. I joined him in that endeavor, too.
The day was Wednesday, and August strode into the room, a smile on his face. He went to kiss and hug the kids before coming to me on the sofa. His eyes were full of desire.
He didn’t kiss my lips. Instead, he kissed the spot just behind my ear as he whispered, “So, I was thinking…let’s have us another baby. What do you say?”
I hadn’t said one word to anyone about how I’d been thinking the same thing. One more added to our growing family had been on my mind for only a day or so.
How could we be so in sync?
He pulled back, looking at me with those sexy hazel eyes. I whispered back so the kids wouldn’t hear, “What about feeding a baby? I’ve lost the milk jugs.”
That crooked smile pulled his lips up to one side. “That shouldn’t stop us. I do believe they make something called formula. We do have my sister to beat—she’s got a six-pack.”
Oh, God help me. I had to be crazy, and I knew that, but I loved the way this man thought!
“Let’s do it!” I threw my arms around his neck then he picked me up, carrying me away as Denise came in to take care of the kids.
“You two go discuss the therapy session. I’ve got the little ones.” She gave me a knowing smile as I looked over my husband’s shoulder at her.
I kissed my hand, then blew it to her. “Thank you, Denise. You’re a godsend.”
Life wasn’t over for us. More battles would surely come our way, but we’d face them as a family—a strong, growing family who had found their happy for right now.
The End.
4. A Billionaire’s Treasure
An Alpha Billionaire Romance
Part One
When he first laid eyes on her, he knew she was the one. She had brown eyes, wavy hair, and plump lips painted a matte wine red. What first caught his eye was the smirk on her face when the teacher called out everyone’s name and she didn’t reply. As he watched her, he wondered how she could be bold enough to sit in on someone else’s class.
He walked to the middle of the class with his hands behind his back and smiled. You could hear the silent whistles and occasional oh my god coming from the female students. All except for her. That was new for this charming older man. She didn’t even move her eyes up from her bag to see what was going on. The older man was caught off guard since he was always the center of everyone’s attention when he walked into the room. A woman had never not taken an interest in him, so this random student not giving him the time of day made him drawn to her and only her.
“Hello, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Arsen Lockhart and here’s how I became a billionaire novelist”, the man announced before the class. As soon as the word “novelist” slipped out it was as though something clicked inside of her brain. Her head popped up immediately and she began paying attention.
Lola Anderson. She was the epitome of stubbornness and ruination. Her only goal was to become a novelist, so she had never had time for relationships, or even friendships. Except for one, that is. Lola had a best friend named Arabella Spencer and they had had an unbreakable bond since middle school. Lola was currently skipping her eight o’clock math class to spend time with Arabella and never expected that there would be a seminar. Who could have known that this one day would be the start of something interesting?
They made eye contact from across the room and from the moment he saw her, he knew he had to have her. She bit down on her lip as she watched the much older man walk around the classroom. It was really a coincidence that on the day she had skipped her class a great opportunity like this came about. There had to be a reason the universe pulled them together.
Lola
I began to feel very drawn to Arsen as he started his presentation. Despite the fact that I was in college, I hadn’t met any other guy who had that certain type of confidence he did. I examined the way he walked, with his back straight and chin up, the way he spoke slowly making sure every word was articulate, and the way his eye contact burned holes straight through anyone’s head. He was the perfect guy, if I wanted one.
I quickly shook away the lustful thoughts and started to take notes. He went into detail about how to market your novels for the age group you want to sell to, and that’s where I struggled with my work—trying to make someone want my book in their home.
Arsen also owned a line of hotels across the country named after himself, The Lockhart. I wasn’t interested in any of that, though. The fact that this man was a novelist was really attractive to me. He told us about his daily routine and how strict he was with time for his employees. It showed how ruthless he was when it came to his work. He was stern and didn’t play with his work. He was a man who knew what he wanted and got it. What was this feeling? I fanned myself lightly and continued taking notes.
Nightclub Sins: A Billionaire Romance Series Page 51