Billionaire Daddy's Virgin

by Bella Love-Wins

  Now this? Haven’t I been through enough?

  Unresolved feelings, disturbing images, misplaced energy, and unrelenting questions surged through Andrew’s mind and body. He could cry just as easily as he could curse and punch in a wall. But he didn’t do either. He had company. He had to keep it together until they left. He had to be strong for himself and for them. And for Abby.

  It was bad enough she had seen the tear fall down his face when she touched his scar. That was the most honest moment he had shared with anyone since Emma died. And he was sure Abby had just seen him have a flashback. It was the protruding radius on John’s arm that triggered it. The bone stuck out at almost exactly the same angle as his arm had been after the accident. He was mesmerized by John’s limb, just as he had looked down in disbelief at his own, two years ago.

  When it had happened back then, it felt like his mind had left his body. He had been looking down at his broken arm as though it belonged to someone else. He had watched the blood pooling around the bone that jutted out precariously from where it had broken flesh and skin. There was no concept of time as he had looked down at it. It felt like time had slowed down. It was the paramedic who had been first to arrive on scene that had to forcefully drag Andrew out of his haze to perform first aid on the arm, or Andrew would have bled out that night.

  How could a doctor sworn to preserve life freeze up like that? How could a doctor be on scene and become so powerless? There were many nights since then, where Andrew had been enraged by his state of shock. He had cursed the paramedics and swore at the gods for keeping him alive, instead of attending to everyone else needing help on the scene. For this new disaster to land on his doorstep didn’t just add insult to injury; it was damned near unbearable.

  It was only sheer will that kept him from calling his other chopper service now. The one that would take them all back to Sparks so they could be out of the elements, out of his cabin, and out of his life. It was sheer will, and he had to admit, it was Abby too; she had something to do with it. Fuck! To have an event simultaneously bring new pain at the same time as it probably brought the best thing in his life since Emma passed; well, if there was a god, he or she was cruel and insane.

  Would it even be so bad to send them all packing? He could have them home that same night, Abby’s insurance company would arrange a tow and a replacement vehicle, and their families could take care of the rest. If Abby was remotely interested in getting to know him better, she could stay back. She could stay as long as she wanted, or she could come see him when her schedule freed up. Heck, he could probably go see her, eventually. So what was it about letting these kids take responsibility for themselves that made Andrew feel he was shirking?

  He knew the answer to that. He could not ignore people’s needs. He just wasn’t that kind of man. This was exactly why he had chosen to live as the billionaire hermit of Lake Tahoe. He cared too much, where people were concerned. He would probably put animals before his own needs too, if it came down to it. His distance from society was best for everyone. It was best for the sliver of peace he would get in every sunset. But then, like the monkey wrench of fate, along came Abby.

  Andrew splashed water on his face and dried it with a towel. It was time to go back out there, but every cell in his body wanted to stay locked in his bedroom. The worst was over, hopefully, where John was concerned. There wasn’t anything more he could do for him, other than to keep him stable. If things deteriorated out in the living room, someone would definitely come knocking on his door to get him.

  For all of the rationalizing, he knew there was more to it. Those kids needed him. They were terrified for John out there, just as they were during the blizzard. He saw it in all their eyes, including Abby’s. She was putting up a good front for them, he was sure of it. Out of the group, she knew exactly how bad John’s injuries were. Yet she was so calm, and so helpful.

  He imagined that she needed a break from it, the way he had just been able to pull away. Or maybe she needed him. Suddenly, he felt a pang of desire in his chest. He had to be with her. He would get out there to be there for them. First, he needed to change out of this blood-stained shirt.

  He walked over to the closet to find a fresh shirt, and noticed the open drawer where Rob would have found the first aid kit. He reached down to close the drawer, and that’s when he froze again. It was a framed picture of him and Emma, shortly after they were married. They had been so happy. It had become a photograph he could not bear to look at anymore, but he also could not get rid of it.

  For the first few months while he stayed out at Lake Tahoe, he kept it in the office drawer. He had to move it eventually. He would stare at it for hours, choking back tears until he couldn’t hold it in any more. It was not healthy to keep reliving the nightmare every time he looked at the photo. There were a lot of things that were not healthy about his mind.

  In the months after it happened, his father and other doctor colleagues would frequently suggest he should go to a grief therapist. He eventually saw one; however the visits did not last. He may have seen her five or six times, but effectively he might as well have never gone. At every visit, he would sit in the chair, and she would listen, but he would not say a word.

  He was too numb to share. It was too fresh. His broken arm had not even healed yet, so how could anyone expect the wounds in his mind to recover from such a horrific loss? And there was still so much legal and media turmoil swirling around him. Therapy and healing were the last things on his mind.

  He took the photo out and looked around for a place to put it. He went to the night stand closer to the window and put it in a drawer with the image facing down. He would have to find somewhere else for it. He wondered whether he would ever come to terms with the loss of Emma.

  Could Abby possibly be the one to help him find his way back? He was tired of carrying around so much grief. It was more than anyone should have to bear. That’s what his dad would say, that Andrew shouldn’t have to deal with it alone. Could Abby even fathom his loss? He hoped so, yet was hesitant to put the pain of this tragedy on anyone else’s shoulders—least of all Abby.

  He scoffed at the thought after a few moments. How could he be so naïve to think Abby would even want him? He was a broken man, with a gimp leg and a hollowed out heart. She would probably run for the hills the first chance she got, after learning about Emma, the accident, and his nightmares, let alone the brutal truth of the aftermath. He needed to face facts. No sane, self-respecting woman would want to have anything to do with him, if she knew everything. It was useless.

  He sat on the opposite edge of the bed, let out a sigh and placed his head in his hands. Pull it together, Andy. Those kids need you out there. Abby needs you. He stood up and ran his hand through his hair, doing what he could to regain his composure. He looked down at his outstretched hands. They were calm again. That was progress. He went back to the closet, found a shirt, and changed. As he left his room, he heard the helicopter approaching.

  Chapter 3

  ABBY was not sure what it all meant. Was the chopper there to get John to the nearest trauma center? Or was it coming for everyone in her group? Perhaps it was Andrew’s way to quickly get back to his solitude. To have six strangers not only occupy his house, but also be the source of so much extra minding—not to mention John’s accident—made her almost sorry they had ever taken that route through the mountains.

  All they had caused Andrew was grief. With the help of that whistle, they forced him from his house, and made him wade through the blizzard of the year, to save their sorry asses. They ate his food, and used up all his new plaid sleepwear. They slept in his luxurious beds, and created piles and piles of laundry.

  They took advantage of his generosity by drinking his wine, getting hammered and flirting in his hot tub. They caused him to have to fire a warning shot at Wile E. Coyote, because of all the ruckus they caused in the hot tub. And tonight, two of them had pulled him from her arms to be rescued yet again, because they
had to have their phone chargers.

  To top it all off, they made him perform a forearm reduction with no surgical equipment, in the middle of his living room, on one of the finest Persian rugs Abby had ever seen. No; to top it off, she had kissed him, slept with him, and wanted him all over again. And again.

  She remained in her kneeling position, arm outstretched on John’s neck to keep track of his pulse every few minutes. Ruth was back. She sat on the other side of John, still holding the pillows secure. She had traded places with Barb again, who went up to check on Trina.

  “Abby. Do you think they’ll let us in on what happened outside?” Ruth asked.

  “I’m sure they will eventually,” Abby said softly. “Didn’t you ask Rob?”

  “No, he looked really shaken up.”

  “Stabilizing John is still the bigger priority. We all chipped in to help. Even Barb.”

  “That was a real surprise,” Ruth agreed. “Maybe there’s hope for the bitch.”

  Abby looked over at Ruth, eyes bulging. It was a complete surprise that anyone could get a rise out of Ruth, to the point of name calling.

  “Was she that mean to you?” Abby asked.

  “There are some women who love makeup,” Ruth started. “Some who are into sports; and others who read until their eyes are as sore as burnt holes in a blanket. And then there are women like Barb, who take unrepentant pleasure in sucking the joy out of everyone else’s life.”

  “Barb may have been nice for a moment tonight, but that’s what she is, a soul-sucking vampire bitch. Except that’s actually an insult to a vampire. Because they have to feed on blood. It’s not a choice. They have to feed, or they shrivel up like prunes and go into centuries-long comas. Barb has a choice. She’s worse than a soul-sucking vampire bitch.”

  Abby didn’t know how to respond to Ruth’s tirade.

  “Wow,” Abby said. “This is all coming out of left field. What did she do?”

  “Well, in addition to kicking off spin the bottle last night in the hot tub, she kissed Rob, and practically gave him a lap dance in front of me. She also took pleasure in walking into Rob’s room while we were talking, with only her bra and panties on.”

  This was all news to Abby.

  “But I thought she didn’t like Rob?”

  “Yes. She doesn’t. But she got the rejection of her sorry-ass life when Andrew practically gave her walking papers the first night we were here. So where else is she going to look for attention?”

  Clearly, a lot was happening around Abby that she had either missed because of her sprained ankle, or chosen to ignore while she herself was swooning after Andrew.

  “Hold on. Back up a minute,” Abby stopped her. “What walking papers?”

  “Apparently she tried to jump Andrew’s bones the first night in the living room. He told her to go fuck herself—nicely of course—and told Rob to keep the soul-sucking vampire bitch out of his hair, or we’d all have to stay in the guest house.”

  Abby shook her head, not able to digest all the goings-on of the house while she had been reading Foundations with her thumb up her ass. She would have asked Ruth for more details, but heard someone walking down the hallway to them. It was Andrew.

  “The medics are here,” he said softly, and leaned over to look at John. “How’s he doing?”

  “Stable, I think,” Abby answered. “His pulse is in the normal range, and his bandages are free of blood. He’s still unconscious, but it’s probably from the shock.”

  “Good,” he said with a nod.

  “So who is the chopper here for?” She asked. “Just for John?”

  She hoped he wouldn’t read too much into the questions. She would be fine if she had to stay with Andrew for a few more days. Maybe even a lifetime.

  “It may have extra room for one person. I figured Trina would go with him. I’ve got to let them in. I’ll be right back.”

  Andrew put on his winter coat and boots, and met Rob, already dressed at the front door. They left, and were back within minutes. Behind them were two paramedics carrying a stretcher and bags of medical gear.

  “He’s in here.” Andrew led them to the living room.

  “Thanks,” one of them said. “We’ll take it from here. Good evening, ladies.”

  Abby and Ruth got up and moved back where Andrew and Rob were standing. They gave the emergency workers enough room to provide first response medical treatment.

  Andrew looked over at Rob. “Someone should get Trina. Make sure she brings John’s ID, and call his parents for medical records, if the hospital needs them.”

  “I’ll go get her,” Ruth said quickly.

  “I’ll help,” Rob added. The two left, heading upstairs.

  “Do you know where they’ll take him?” Abby asked Andrew.

  “Norton Memorial Hospital. That’s where I registered the chopper service for emergencies. It’s an acute care hospital, and has the best trauma center in the area. Don’t worry. They’ll take good care of him. I’ll make sure of it.”

  “Thanks, Andrew.”

  As Abby stood beside him, she couldn’t help lacing her fingers into his. He welcomed her hand and squeezed it gently.

  “Okay, Mr. Carrington. He’s stable,” the same paramedic announced to Abby and Andrew. “We’ll get him to Norton, and let you know his condition when there’s an update.”

  “Excellent.”

  They carefully placed John in the stretcher, and covered him in extra blankets.

  “Is anyone riding along?” The medic asked as they headed for the door.

  “Yes, his girlfriend. She’ll be right down.”

  “I’m here,” Trina said from the hallway. Her face was red and her eyes were swollen from crying, but she seemed to have calmed down considerably. “I’ve got his health insurance information.”

  “Don’t worry about that, Trina,” Andrew answered. “It’s taken care of. Just go and be with him.”

  She walked to him before leaving, and hugged him. “Thank you, Andrew. I—I just don’t know how to thank you for this—for helping us out there. And for saving him.”

  “It’s okay. And you’re welcome,” he answered, briefly accepting the embrace. He pulled away slowly. “Now go on. He still needs proper care. The medics need to get him to the hospital now.”

  Trina moved off and quickly hugged Abby, giving her back her car keys that were still in her pocket. She gave a quick embrace to Rob, Barb and Ruth as well, who stood in the hallway while Andrew led the medics outside to the chopper. The snow was so high, the medics had to flip up the wheeled legs of the stretcher to slide it over the hardened ice, until they got to the heated space around the helipad. They placed John inside, and helped Trina in afterward. As the pilot took off, Trina waved to everyone on the porch. Andrew came back inside after they left.

  “And then there were five,” Barb muttered softly. Abby heard her, but wasn’t sure if anyone else did.

  “I hope he’ll be okay,” Ruth said.

  Andrew locked the door after everyone filed into the living room.

  “Me too,” Rob answered, looking around. “I’ll clean up this mess in the living room. I’ll get the kitchen too.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’ll take the kitchen, Rob,” Ruth announced softly. “Sorry I can’t do much in the living room. I get faint when I see blood.”

  Rob nodded, and she followed him to go to the kitchen.

  Oh, heck,” Barb said following after the two. “I’ll help you in the kitchen, Ruth.”

  After they had left, Abby and Andrew stood quietly, looking down at the spot where John had been.

  “You were amazing, Andrew.” Abby turned to look at him.

  “I hope it was enough.”

  “I’m sure it was.”

  “You were great too, Abby. You kept the rest of them calm by not reacting.”

  “Thanks. It’s good training, nothing else.”

  “That’s a severe injury he’s got there. And he’s lost s
o much blood.”

  “Yes. It’s hard not to worry about him. But really, I don’t think any of us can thank you enough.”

  “It’s all right,” he answered, stepping closer to her. “I’m glad he’s stable. I hope he’ll be fine.”

  “Yes. I hope so too.”

  Abby thought for a minute, and stepped close enough so she could hold him around his waist. She craned her neck up at him, and looked into his eyes. “I’m going to stay back and help Rob take care of the floors. Can I come and see you after?”

  He bent his neck and kissed her softly on the lips. “I can help here too.”

  “Not a chance. No, you need your rest. You’ve done so much for us already. We can handle this.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I insist. Do you mind if we roll up the Persian rug? Basic cleaning supplies won’t get that stain out without destroying the carpet.”

  “Of course. Just leave it in the hallway. I’ll get the maid to call someone once the roads are open.”

  “Good. So you go and try to relax. We’ll take care of this.”

  “Okay. And yes. Come see me anytime. I’ll be in the office for a bit.”

  She pulled him closer and gave him another brief kiss before heading to the kitchen. Andrew followed behind. They parted ways in the hallway.

  Ruth and Barb were already busy cleaning up the kitchen when she got there. “Rob, I’ll give you a hand with the living room.”

  “Sure,” he answered.

  “There’s a lot of blood, so we need gloves, bleach, paper towels, a few plastic bags, a mop and a bucket half-filled with water.”

  “Cool.”

  “If I don’t see you ladies tonight, sleep well okay? Maybe the plows will come through by tomorrow.”

  “Gosh, I hope so,” Barb agreed. “Have a good night, Abby.”

  Abby carried the kitchen gloves, paper towels and bleach, and Rob brought the mop and bucket. They stood around the bloody area briefly, as Abby assessed what needed to be done.