King of Hearts

by L.H. Cosway

  “Oh, right,” I said, looking away and sticking the stopper in the sink before turning on the hot tap and letting it fill.

  “He says it will keep me occupied, so that I don’t think about having a drink.”

  “Huh. That’s actually a good idea. Is it working?”

  He lifted his shoulders. “A little.”

  “Come here,” I said, gesturing to the chair. “Sit.”

  Warily, he stepped inside the tiny bathroom, and I realised he was right, it was small. It felt even smaller with the two of us inside and a warm, tingling heat began to creep its way to the surface of my skin. King sat down as instructed, then stared up at me, waiting for what I was going to do next. My black shirt had a sweetheart neckline; it was modest enough, but it showed a hint of cleavage, and I was distinctly aware of King’s eyes resting there. Then he glanced up, saw I’d caught him, and looked away.

  “You’re allowed to look at me, you know,” I said, picking up a bottle of shampoo.

  He continued to stare at his lap, a frown causing his brows to furrow. What he said next made my heart hurt. “I wasn’t sure if…you’d find it distasteful to have someone like me looking.”

  “Hey,” I whispered fervently. He glanced up slowly. “I like it when you look.”

  He swallowed and his eyes grew dark, wanting. I swallowed, too, and set the shampoo down on the edge of the sink for when I needed it. I turned off the tap, then brought my hands to his shoulders. “Just lean back a little,” I said quietly.

  He did exactly as I asked, and my eyes fixed on the masculine line of his throat when he reclined. It was kind of sexy. I slipped a towel around his shoulders so as not to get his clothes wet. Then I filled a jug with warm water and lifted it above his head before pouring it over his hair. I repeated the process several times, King watching my every move like it was fascinating. Grabbing the shampoo, I poured some into my open palm, then sank my hands into his hair, massaging it in and creating a lather. King exhaled heavily as I dug my fingers into his scalp, massaging.

  I saw his throat move, his blue eyes bright as he stared up at me. They dipped to my chest for a moment, and I let him look his fill. I wanted him to know I found nothing distasteful about his attention, that I wanted it, relished it. Leaning forward, I worked the lather through to the ends, which brought me closer to him, my breast brushing his cheek ever so slightly. He seemed to struggle for a moment, his hand clenching into a fist. I was struggling just as much, trying to concentrate on washing his hair rather than the fact that I wished he’d touch me. Run his hand up my thigh, maybe lean close and nuzzle his nose against my collarbone.

  The room was way too silent, but I didn’t want this to end. Being close to him, touching him, felt intimate, and I wanted to make it last as long as possible.

  “Do you remember the first time you caught me having lunch in your office bathroom?” I asked in an effort to make conversation.

  He gave me a warm smile, and I swear the heat of it thawed my lonely bones. “How could I forget?”

  “I was so embarrassed when it happened, convinced you were going to fire me, but you didn’t. You were so cool about it. You must have thought I was a complete nutter.”

  King shook his head. “It was endearing. You were like a breath of fresh air. I loved how impulsive you were. It made me want to be around you.”

  We locked eyes, and I knew I’d done all I could with the shampoo, so I began to rinse it out. I noticed a few lesions on his scalp, and a bit of redness, but they’d heal fine so long as he kept up a decent hygiene regime. It was his cough I was worried about.

  “Have you given any more thought to seeing a doctor?” I asked gently, taking advantage of his momentary good mood.

  “Would it make you happy if I did?” His eyes flickered back and forth between mine.

  “Yes,” I answered.

  Determination formed in his gaze, and I knew my not coming to see him yesterday had given him a fright, made him realise he didn’t want to lose me. “Then I’ll go.”

  I opened my mouth, closed it. It was hard to find words for a second, and then I finally found the perfect ones. I hoped he heard my gratefulness. “Thank you.”

  I continued rinsing his hair then, and felt his hand come to rest on my hip. He left it there, and neither one of us commented on it. Warmth suffused my skin, radiating out from where he touched me. Once I’d wrung out all the excess water, I pulled the towel from his shoulders and wrapped it around his wet hair until it sat in a bundle atop his head. We shared a moment of eye contact as I laced my fingers through his and pulled him up to stand.

  Leading him out into the living area, I brought him to the couch and sat him down while I went to rummage in my bag for a hairbrush. Then I came and lowered myself to sit beside him. I pulled the towel from his hair, let it fall around his shoulders, and scrunched it dry before I started brushing out the tangles. King sat there all the while, still as a statue, and allowed me to groom him. The act was so simplistic in its intimacy. He was turned away from me, and I’d just about finished when he suddenly moved, his eyes meeting mine.

  I startled when I saw his tears and gasped when he suddenly grabbed me, pulling me into a desperate embrace. The speed at which he moved was shocking, but the tenderness of his actions stopped my heart. He rested his head on my stomach, and I couldn’t find my voice. He was open to me in that moment, laid bare, and his vulnerability provoked tears of my own. His breathing was deep, the rise and fall of his chest heavy, as I brought my hands to his hair and started to stroke.

  I felt his face move and realised he’d placed a kiss on my stomach over the fabric of my top. I swallowed deeply, unsure whether I should touch him back or allow him to take the lead. His hand came to the soft part of my belly and began to push up the hem of my top until it revealed skin. The old, faded lines of the stretch marks I’d gotten when I was pregnant with Oliver were a stark reminder of everything I still had to tell him. I couldn’t stop him, though, didn’t want to, and he didn’t seem to draw the connection between the little silver lines and the fact I might be a mother. He simply marvelled at my skin, like it was a thing of wonder.

  He started to stroke me, almost reverently, and every pore on my body drew tight. His hand was warm and big and manly, and I loved the feel of his callused fingers on my soft skin. I lay back, completely still, and allowed him to find his own way, go as far as he was comfortable. But he didn’t try anything else, seemed content to simply run his hands over my bare stomach and concentrate on the movement of his fingers.

  After a long time, his hands stopped and his eyes fell shut. I closed mine, too. I only realised we’d both fallen asleep when the buzzing of my phone startled me awake. King still slept, but I managed to reach inside my pocket to check my text without waking him.

  It was a message from Elaine, asking when I’d be home. I had to go, but I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to go back to sleep, lie here with King for hours, and just feel the peace of being with him. Unfortunately, life had other ideas. His breathing was loud and steady, with a little bit of a rattle. It reminded me that he’d agreed to see the doctor, and my heart felt suddenly lighter.

  As quiet as a mouse I slipped out from under him and left the camper, and almost walked straight into Jack as I was leaving.

  “Oh, my God, you gave me a fright,” I whispered loudly, my hand going to my chest.

  He seemed awkward. “Sorry. I get that a lot.”

  “You’re one of those big men with silent feet, huh?” I went on.

  Unexpectedly, Jack smiled. He was gorgeous when he smiled. Well, he was already gorgeous, but he frowned a lot. It made him seem closed off. The only time I’d really seen him smile was when he was with Lille or his brother.

  “Yeah, you could say that,” he agreed.

  I glanced back toward the camper. “King’s inside sleeping, but listen, he’s told me he’ll go see a doctor. I work during the day, so I won’t be able to take him. Do you think you could
do it? Maybe make an appointment for tomorrow.”

  He nodded. “Sure. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Thank you. Oh, and there’s another thing. Do you know that he used to play the piano?”

  Jack shook his head. “No, but I did know that his mother played.”

  “That’s right. Well, King used to play, too. Music meant a lot to him, and I’ve bought tickets for a concert I want to take him to see. I think it’ll be good for him to hear a live orchestra again, therapeutic maybe, but I’m not sure I can handle taking him alone. So, do you think you and Lille could come along?”

  Jack arched a brow. “Like a double date?”

  He was teasing me now, and it made me grin. I didn’t realise Jack had it in him to tease. I placed a hand on my hip. “Yeah, like a double date.”

  His lips twitched. “I think we can manage that. When’s the concert?”

  “Next Saturday. Will you have a show?”

  “Yes, but I can fix to have the night off.”

  “Great. That’s great. Thank you so much. This means a lot.”

  Jack’s eyes wandered to the camper. “I’ll do whatever I can to help you, Alexis. I’m sorry if I was rude before, but I’ve spent years watching that man suffer. It’d be nice to see his suffering come to an end.”

  His words made me slightly emotional, so all I could do was nod and turn to walk away.

  The following day at the office, I couldn’t help checking my phone every five minutes. I sent Lille a message, asking if she’d let me know how things went at the doctor’s with King. It was almost the end of the day, and I still hadn’t heard a peep. It caused me to worry. What made matters worse was when I called Elaine to tell her I’d be home late again, and she asked questions. She was starting to become suspicious, especially since I told her I’d be home by nine yesterday and didn’t get back until after midnight. I hated lying to her.

  In the end, Lille met me when I arrived at the circus. I’d worried myself sick, thinking something might be terribly wrong with King. She sat me down in her and Jack’s camper to give me the details. It turned out that he did have quite a few ailments, but nothing that couldn’t be dealt with. He had acute bronchitis, which accounted for the coughing. He also had a few patches of eczema. They’d done some tests on his liver but wouldn’t get the results back for a couple of days. It was also looking likely that he had a stomach ulcer. The doctor had prescribed antibiotics for the bronchitis and the ulcer, some specialist creams for his skin and a drug called Disulfiram to help him stop drinking. As regards his liver, the fact that he was making an effort to quit was a big help.

  Even though all this wasn’t exactly news that he was healthy, I was incredibly relieved to hear that he didn’t have anything incurable. I could see light at the end of the tunnel. When the door to the camper opened and Jack walked in with King following behind, I gasped. He’d shaved off his beard.

  Standing, I walked over to him and instinctively brought my hand to his cheek.

  “You shaved,” I whispered.

  His eyes, dull and bloodshot only a couple of days ago, had regained some of their colour. They look clearer, bluer. “I thought it was high time.”

  “I can see your face now,” I smiled, noticing the lines that weren’t there before. They gave him character. He also had a small scar on one of his cheeks. “How did this happen?”

  “Honestly, love, I can’t remember,” he replied, and I shivered at his term of endearment. He always used to call me “love” when we had sex, and several goose bump–inducing memories swept through my mind all at once.

  “Drink will do that to you,” said Jack, giving King a firm pat on the shoulder. “It’s the elixir of memory loss.”

  King shot his friend something of a smile while Lille widened her eyes at her boyfriend. “Jack.”

  “We need to be able to joke about it. Takes away its power,” Jack explained, and I thought he made a lot of sense.

  I looked back to King. “Come for a walk with me?”

  Without a word he moved to the side and gestured for me to lead the way. I said goodbye to Lille and Jack before exiting the camper. When we got outside, I gently slid my arm through King’s so that we were linking. He glanced down at me, his eyes lingering on our linked arms.

  “Where did you go last night?” he asked tensely. I was still trying to get used to the sight of him without the beard. Plus, his question made me strangely shy as I remembered his hands on me, his tender, worshipful touches. I looked at my toes as we walked.

  “I had to get home and didn’t want to wake you.”

  “You could have stayed,” he said quietly, and I didn’t know how to respond.

  A silence ensued as we made our way past the front of the tent. A couple of the circus workers went by, and I noticed some of them doing double takes when they saw King. He’d cleaned up a lot in the last few days. I reached up and playfully tugged at a strand of his hair.

  “I hope you don’t plan on getting rid of this like you got rid of your beard,” I said.

  His eyes practically twinkled. “You like my hair long?”

  “I already told you I do.”

  “Then maybe I’ll keep it.”

  I shot him an amused scowl. “Only maybe?”

  He laughed, low and deep, before shrugging. “If you like the hair, I’ll keep the hair.”

  “Good,” I said, satisfied. We chatted as we continued our walk. I asked him how he was feeling, and he told me he was still in pain but not as much as the day before. We entered a busy shopping district, buses and cars clogging the roads since it was rush hour. The streets were crowded with people, all scurrying by on their way home from work.

  “Are you hungry?” I asked as I felt my stomach rumble. I’d been in such a hurry to leave the office today that I’d completely forgotten about dinner.

  King looked away uncomfortably. “I don’t have any money.”

  I didn’t point out the fact that he did have money. He had a bank account full of it, not to mention a gigantic apartment that had been left unlived in for the last six years. He hadn’t considered any of that his for a really long time. Perhaps he thought all his property had been seized by the authorities. After all, he never knew that his name had been cleared. Still, I had no intention of pushing the matter right then. I just wanted to eat with him and enjoy his company. I’d always loved the lunches we shared together in his office, the conversation.

  “My treat,” I said as I steered him in the direction of a small bistro.

  He didn’t protest, but I got the sense that he wasn’t too thrilled about me paying. Neither one of us was dressed fancy. I wore a cream knit top, pale blue jeans, and ballet flats. King wore a work shirt and khaki combats. But the bistro was a casual affair, so it didn’t matter. A waitress led us to a small nook at the back and handed us each a menu. I scanned down the list.

  “The roast chicken looks good,” I said, and was met with silence.

  King was looking around the room, clearly uncomfortable. I didn’t have to ask to know it had been a long time since he’d eaten in a restaurant. The waitress came back to take our drinks order. King seemed overwhelmed, so I hooked my foot around his ankle under the table for a second as a show of solidarity. It seemed to comfort him a little, but the waitress was still waiting for his order and he wasn’t talking. In the end, I ordered two Cokes and told her she could put us down for two of the roast chicken dinners as well.

  King seemed relieved after she left, glancing at me and muttering a quiet, “Thanks.”

  “She was being pushy, if you ask me,” I joked to try to make him feel less uncomfortable. “So,” I continued casually, “Lille and Jack invited us to go out with them next Saturday night.”

  His brows drew together. “Out where?”

  “I’m not sure. Probably to dinner and a show or something. It could be fun,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. I didn’t want him to know how desperately I needed him to say yes.

&
nbsp; “Do you want me to go?”

  I nudged him with my foot. “Of course I do.”

  “I’ll go then, if I’m feeling well enough.”

  My heart soared. He’d said yes. We were going on a date. It was a little sad how deliriously happy that made me. “Lille told me you went to see a doctor today.”

  King nodded and stared down at the menu, where his fingers fiddled with the edge of the paper. “I’m taking some medicines, and I haven’t had a drink since two days ago. I’m still not over the worst of it, but I don’t want to go back. It feels like it’s either win or lose at this stage.”

  What he said surprised me, since I hadn’t even been certain he wanted to give up. “The other day you said you weren’t sure you wanted to quit, but you seemed determined now.”

  His eyes flared meaningfully. “I’m trying.”

  “All you can do is try,” I said, giving him a warm smile, remembering how he’d told me something similar years ago.

  He smiled back, sending my hopeful little heart into overdrive. We sat side by side in our nook, the restaurant noises surrounding us. “Maybe in a week or so, do you think you’d like to see your mum?” I asked tentatively.

  He cleared his throat, coughing a little. “Yes,” he nodded. “I just need some more time to…get better.”

  “I can understand that,” I said, glancing up at him. I’m not sure why, but there was something in his eyes then that held mine captive.

  He leaned the tiniest fraction closer, and whispered so that no one else could hear, “I dreamt of you last night.”

  Twenty

  “You did?” I replied, my voice more air than sound.

  “I think it was something about having you close, your smell, your warmth. We were sleeping just the same, but we were skin to skin.” His hand drifted across the table to mine, his fingers covering my fingers. I shivered, my throat growing tight with need. He stared at me so intently that I became self-conscious. It wasn’t often that someone looked at you like they were seeing every piece that was on the surface, as well as every piece that lay beneath.