Escalation Clause (Stewart Realty Series)

by Crowe, Liz

  He ran his hand across his face seeming to regain his composure. “Okay. Do you need a ride home, or can I buy you a drink, or I don’t know, something?” His eyes darkened as he watched her put herself back together, hands stuffed in his trouser pockets.

  “No!” she yelled out, making him raise an eyebrow at her vehemence. “I mean, sorry, but I have a car. I really should go,” she brushed by him, face burning with embarrassment and body humming with satisfaction.

  When Matthew arrived the next morning for rounds, he learned that Beth had requested a transfer out of his group. The compulsion to see her, kiss her, hell, just stand beside her made him antsy. That in and of itself pissed him off. Women were nothing to him. Nothing more than a bit of challenge and some physical pleasure. While he’d admit to being struck by Beth Bishop when he saw her. Those deep green eyes and classically beautiful face, the strict way she conducted herself—all combined to intrigue him more than he cared to admit. She was something he wanted to explore, to loosen what he sensed innately was a wildly sexy woman. The fact that she was in the damn building, yet had managed to avoid him, made him insane.

  He ran a hand down his face as he listened to yet another idiot resident spout shit he knew nothing about. “Really,” he spit out in his accepted angry manner. “Well, then doctor. You have just managed to kill this woman and her baby. Well done.” He patted the alarmed looking pregnant woman’s foot. “Don’t be afraid dear. I won’t let him near you.” He glared at the sorry excuse for a medical school graduate and stomped out of the room.

  He needed to see her. Badly. Instead, he let himself be distracted by a nurse who’d been an eager partner several times already. By the time he’d relieved his stress between her willing legs, he’d convinced himself he didn’t care about Beth Bishop anymore.

  It was a solid five weeks before he caught sight of her again. And he’d worked himself into a strange, needy frenzy by that point. Her eyes, lips, body all haunted him nightly. He’d shaken off the annoying nurse and had found himself going home alone, mainly to stare at walls and think about her. The whole stupid thing was frustrating to the point of maddening.

  When she cornered him in the staff room, her face flushed, her thick brown hair framing her face, he’d been thrilled and more nervous than he’d been in years. “Gee Beth, long time no see,” he smirked, folding his arms over this chest. His heart pounded; his mouth was dry as a bone. He shook his head at himself, trying to shove away the jittery boy and recover his inner alpha male, the one who didn’t give a shit about any individual woman. But, that guy remained elusive, leaving him nearly panting with the urge to grab and kiss her.

  Her deep green eyes were haunted. He stood up straighter and really studied her. She looked like she had the flu or some sort of …. “Shit,” he launched himself off the counter and grabbed her upper arms. He stared at her until she broke eye contact. She trembled, but it felt more like anger than any other emotion. He led her to a chair and brought her a cup of coffee.

  “We have a problem, Matthew,” she began. The strange whooshing noise in his ears got louder. A wholly unfamiliar possessive feeling stole over his nerve endings. He tried to keep his voice calm, nonchalant.

  “Do we?” he asked her. “Sure it’s my problem and not what’s-his-name’s?”

  She stood up quickly, but he pulled her back down to the chair. “Sorry, Beth, I have to ask, I mean, surely I’m not the only one…,” he heard his voice trail off and cursed himself for being such a shit.

  She glared at him making him feel about two feet tall. “Let me repeat myself because you are obviously hard of hearing. We have a problem, Matthew,” she said between clinched teeth.

  Beth stared hard at the man she’d married a year ago whose disheveled hair and shirt told her all she needed to know. He was so devastatingly handsome, charming, and loving when he put his mind to it. At times, she felt like she’d married ‘Dr. Jekyll,’ but her personal ‘Mr. Hyde’ was a cheating asshole. She shifted eight-month old Blake to her other arm and glared at him. She’d long suspected that his bad habits would not die, and this truly was the last straw.

  “You reek, Matthew. Next time, you could at least get a shower at the hospital before coming home.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, his brown eyes rueful. “Honey, it’s not what you….”

  She stepped back. If she let him start talking, she’d acquiesce. Again. “Actually. It is. I’m leaving.”

  He stepped aside as she grabbed her suitcase and Blake’s diaper bag. She suppressed the urge to cry. She absolutely would not give the man the fucking satisfaction of that. He followed her to the door with his hangdog look fixed firmly in place, the one she’d fallen for before. She threw stuff in the backseat of the expensive car he’d presented her with for Christmas, secured Blake into a seat while he squirmed and yelped.

  “Shh, my darling. We have to go now. Please, be still.”

  “Daaaaa!” The boy whined, his pudgy arms reaching out for her to release him.

  She finally got him settled and turned around. Matthew yanked her close, laid a mind-blowing kiss on her, but she stayed as still as a stone. She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from saying a single word. He dropped to his knees. She looked away, horrified at herself for letting him do this, and on the scary verge of giving in. “Jesus, Matthew, get up.”

  “No,” he wrapped his arms around her waist. “No. I won’t. I will not let you go. You are my whole world Beth. You and Blake. Please. I’m sorry. I promise it will never happen again. I swear it.” His eyes were wild and desperate, his voice choking with emotion.

  She pulled him up to standing. She gasped when he gripped her arms tight. Blake’s constant stream of “Da!” devolved into a wail of dismay when the man in question entered his line of sight again.

  He whispered in her ear. “I am sorry. Beth, please, don’t leave.”

  God damn the man to hell and back.

  She melted into his embrace, the familiar sensation of his lips on hers making her forget they were standing in the driveway. She tore herself away, tried not to drown in the deep brown pools of his gaze. “Listen to me.” He pulled her close, but she pushed him back. Blake’s crying had dissolved into tearful hiccups. “This is it. The last chance. Blow this one and I’m done with you forever. I don’t have to take this, Matthew.”

  “I know, I know.” He reached down to release their son from his seat. The pure joy that radiated from the baby’s face made Beth smile in spite of herself. He was a good father, when he was home. His innate sense of what she needed clashed with his tendency to control everything, but it was a balance she was willing to strike with him; as long as the cheating stopped.

  She followed them in, Blake having sobbed himself into a nap on his father’s shoulder. Unable to admit how relieved she was to be back in her house with her husband, she set the suitcase down and dropped into the nearest chair. But, in a few minutes, Matthew had picked her up and was carrying her back to their bedroom then into the bathroom. “Shh…,” he kept saying, covering her mouth with kisses when she tried to protest. Her clothes melted off in his hands, the bath water was the perfect temperature. His quiet, firm ministrations made her feel loved, cherished. “May I join you?” He stood over her and yanked his shirt off and trousers down.

  She frowned, remembering why she’d been mad at him in the first place, then blushed at the sight of him, still amazed that a man as gorgeous as he was had even given her a second glance much less lived in her house, slept in her bed. “I’ll take your silence as yes.” He slid into the water, sitting opposite her, pulling her legs up and over his hips.

  “Mmm….” She sighed and leaned her head back on the cold porcelain. He tugged her up after turning her into a limp ragdoll from a twenty-minute foot massage and kissed her, reminding her that yes she did love him, and how much she needed him. “Yes…,” she hissed as he shifted his hips and slid into her with a groan of satisfaction.

  They moved toge
ther, slowly, letting the water slosh over the edges of the tub. He leaned down to suck one of her nipples into his mouth. She shuddered, buried her hands in his hair. The orgasm nearly blindsided her with a crystal-clear excellence.

  “Dear God,” He whispered into her ear as she pulsed around him, pulling him toward his own release. “You are so perfect. My love. My Beth.” His hips moved with purpose.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  He gasped and captured her lips at the last moment, filling her with warmth in the cooling bathwater. They stayed in the embrace, and then he kissed her forehead, nose, both cheeks before stepping out of the water. He held out a hand to help her out. She kept shaking. “S-s-s-sorry.” Her teeth chattered

  He dried her from head to toe and lead her to their bedroom. They slept for about an hour before the cries from Blake’s room made Beth’s eyes fly open. Matthew sighed into her neck, and she allowed herself to relax for the first time in months. “You are my one and only, Beth, never forget that,” he murmured into her ear, making her smile. “I’ve got the boy. You rest.” She nodded, still half asleep, as he pulled on shorts and a T-shirt before shutting the door behind him.

  “You are fucking kidding me.” Matthew stared at her, exhaustion reflected in every line of his face. He’d been promoted to head of the OB/Gyn Department at the university hospital. About the same time she contracted with a fellow female U of M med school graduate to open a pediatrics practice. And she was pregnant again as a result of that little badly-timed tub adventure.

  Nausea roiled through her. Saliva flooded her mouth. “No, dear. I don’t kid about this sort of thing.” She spooned mashed peaches into Blake’s mouth, ignored the niggling doubts she still had about her husband’s ability to be faithful.

  He slid into a chair, put his face in his hands. “Jesus Christ. What a cliché.” He pounded his fist on the table then stood and paced.

  She focused on the baby’s face, unable to suppress a smile at his infectious food-covered grin. His bright green eyes matched hers, but he had his father’s temper without a doubt. “I don’t know what you mean. But I do know that if you’d let me go on the birth control pill….”

  He looked up, anger clear in his eyes. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t trust the damn things enough to prescribe them to patients much less to my own wife. They’re too strong. The hormones are…they haven’t been studied enough.”

  She held up a hand. “Spare me.” Blake chose that moment to test gravity and knock his cup to the kitchen floor. Apple juice splattered both of their legs. Matthew glared at the boy. His small face crumpled. Beth plucked him from the high chair before he devolved into serious crying. Matthew followed her into the living room. “Beth, we can’t have another baby. I mean, your practice is…I’m…shit.”

  Beth stared out the window jiggling her son to keep his sobs at bay. “Well, I guess you are one guy who could do something about that. I mean, if you want.” Tears threatened. When the urge to throw up was too strong to resist, she turned and shoved the still messy boy into his father’s arms and ran to the bathroom. By the time she’d puked anything left in her stomach and then some, she sat on the edge of the tub, eyes dry and aching. He was right. They could not do this. She looked up and saw that Matthew had cleaned Blake up complete with a fresh diaper and his pj’s. The baby leaned on his father’s shoulder, thumb stuck firmly in his mouth, staring at her. She brushed the hair off his small forehead, leaned over to kiss his freshly washed cheek.

  “We are not having an abortion if that is what you are referring to.” Matthew’s voice was hard. “Don’t ever suggest it again either.”

  She looked away, biting her lip with relief. When she looked up again, he’d turned and headed into Blake’s room. She followed him, and together they watched their son fall into a restless sleep. Matthew put his arm around her, kissed her hair. “I love you, Beth. I love our son. And I will love… whatever happens next.” She turned to him and let him kiss her worries away.

  Sixteen Years Later

  “Oh, Matthew,” the woman uncrossed and re-crossed her legs. “I miss you so much.”

  Matthew frowned at her, turned away and made a note on her chart. “Listen, sweetheart, you are healthy and have no reason to come in here every six months for an exam.”

  She made an annoying sound between a sigh and a moan, rattling his already shredded nerves. He glanced at her then away at the sight of her bare shoulder, the top of her full breast. Willing himself under control, he backed up against his desk, aggressively ignoring her until she stood, completely naked, her hand on his hardening cock. Jesus. He pushed her back. “Cut it out, Nancy. I mean it.”

  “Oh honey, you mean something, I can tell.” He responded immediately to her touch, making him groan. “You miss me too, don’t you? I know you do. It’s been way too long.” He gripped her neck and kissed her, his brain awash with stress and a need for release. He had not had sex with his wife in what felt like months. They’d been fighting non-stop over the kids, the house, her practice, everything under the sun. He needed this. He kept compartmentalizing his reasons as he picked the woman up, plunked her on the desk and plowed into her. He came fast, hard, not even paying attention if she did or not. “I knew you loved me,” she whispered making him furious with himself. He pulled out of her, zipped himself up and handed her some tissues. He sat, head in his hands while she got dressed.

  God, I am such an ass.

  “Get the fuck out of here.” He sidestepped her when she tried to kiss him. She stumbled, and he grabbed her arm just as his office door opened. His daughter, Sara, the gorgeous result of that night in the tub stared at him, her emerald eyes wide, her books clutched to her chest. The woman stepped closer to him but he shoved her away, running a hand through his hair.

  “Dad?”

  “Yeah, honey. Sorry. Mrs. Um…she’s leaving.” He opened the door. The woman stood, tried to kiss him but he turned his head. Sara followed her out, frowning over her shoulder at him. He stood, hands in his pockets, hoping beyond hope that she would not run to her mother. Not that she saw anything.

  No, dickhead; only because she was about five minutes too late to watch you fuck your own patient.

  After watching Sara and Blake’s track meet alone from the sidelines on an abnormally hot spring day in Ann Arbor, Matthew went downtown and drank himself into a stupor. The past few months living in the Campus Inn, around the corner from the hospital had been hell—but one he’d created for himself, no doubt about it. He’d tried to reach out, to talk to her, and Beth had utterly shut him down. Not that he blamed her.

  But something in him would not accept defeat—would not allow his family to fall apart because of his own stupidity. So the next day he showed up at their house, banging on the door. The look in his wife’s eyes when she finally opened it frightened him, mainly because it held only neutrality. She didn’t care anymore. His body led and he let it. He could not take this anymore.

  He yanked her close, held onto her until she stopped struggling and her shoulders heaved with sobs. He kept holding on, the heat and pressure behind his eyes threatened a rare outpouring of emotion.

  “I hate you.” She said into his tear-soaked shirtfront. “I really hate you.”

  He looked up and saw his children, Blake and Sara, standing side by side, as eerily like twins as two people could be. Their arms were crossed, their eyes angry. He stepped back.

  “I am sorry, to all of you. I’m here to beg your forgiveness. I love you so much, I…,” he gulped. Sara’s face stayed hard, but Blake’s eyes held something promising. “Son,” he held out a hand. Sara put out her arm to keep her brother from crossing the threshold over to him. “Sara, please.” His voice broke and he dropped into a chair on the small front porch. Blake was at his side instantly. Beth and Sara still stood, staring at him. “One more chance?” He meant it. “That whole bullshit scene you saw, Sara, was just that. Bullshit.”

  “She came here you know. To our h
ouse.” Sara hissed. Her mother tried to shush her. “No. Mom he needs to know.”

  “Jesus,” He groaned into his hands.

  “Yes, well, she claimed she had your undying love. So, I informed her that you only had undying love for three people,” Beth spit out between clenched teeth, “your children and yourself.”

  He looked up, his chest so tight he might have feared a heart attack if he didn’t know better.

  She turned and went back inside. Sara followed her. Blake sat across from him. “You fucked it up royally, Dad. You know?”

  “Yes, son. I do know.”

  Beth reappeared holding glasses of ice water. “I do love you,” she stated matter-of-factly as she handed him one, as if talking about how much she loved lasagna, or watching football. He gripped her hand. Blake walked back inside. Matthew stood, wrapped her in his arms.

  “I will never hurt you or the children again. I swear it, Beth. I truly do.”

  “Fine.” She pulled out his embrace. “Dinner is at seven, and Blake needs help with his chemistry.” She looked over her shoulder. “You are on probation Matthew Thornton. Indefinitely. Don’t make me spend another night wishing I’d married….”

  “Stop. Right there. I know. And you won’t ever have to do that again.” His heart still pounded at the sight of her and at the realization of how close he had come to ruining his entire life.

  She scoffed and left him alone on the porch.

  Chapter One

  The day had a scary edge of unreality, tinged with a distinct blur of dreamlike crazy he could not shake. Jack sat on his patio, watched family and friends mingle around the large yard, murmuring under their breath, nibbling food and sipping drinks. He turned his head slowly, the effort taking so much out of him he was convinced he could hear his neck ligaments creaking. Sara. He needed to see her, to make sure she was okay. Well, actually just to lay his aching eyes on her—that was what he needed.