by Kacey Shea
“NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT.”
“Come on, Jon, it’ll be fun.” I pout. “You wanted an in with the case and my idea is perfect.” I got home thirty minutes ago; he’s working a new PI case and wanted to brainstorm. I think my solution is brilliant. Methinks the boyfriend does not concur.
“Damn it Kate, I said no! You’re not going undercover as a drag queen. I’m putting my foot down.” Jon crosses his arms over his chest. He looks damn fine, biceps flexing, his handsome face scowling.
“Oh? Foot down. Is that when you stomp your little foot up and down? Do a jig? I just don’t see the problem.” Hands on hips, I stand off against him in the living room. It’s an outstanding suggestion. He’s probably jealous he didn’t think of it first. He pins me with a hard glare.
“Nothing about me is little and you know it,” he growls.
“Oh, my god! Enough, you two! Jeez!” Evie walks out of the office, shaking her head.
“What did you think, now that we’re madly in love we’d stop disagreeing?” I raise my brow.
“If anyone’s mad that’s you, babe,” Jon grumbles and flops down onto the couch.
“Yes! That’s exactly what I thought!” Evie’s eyes bug and she’s still shaking her head. I don’t think she gets us, but she’s been supportive of our budding romance all the same.
“Oh, sorry to disappoint. He still drives me crazy.” A grin fills my face. Jon stretches his long legs onto the coffee table and pulls out his phone.
“Yeah, and she’s frustrating as hell, but if you stick around long enough you’ll witness some great make up sex.” Evie pinches her eyes shut.
“Oh, no. I don’t want to see that.”
I laugh. “Oh, but it’s hot as fuck! The things this man does—”
“Lalalalala! I’m going, I’m going!” I walk over and wrap her in an embrace, and pull her hands from where they cover her ears.
“’Bye, Evie. Call me tomorrow.” I squeeze tighter and she does the same before she turns towards the door.
“’Bye, QT.” Jon calls from the couch.
“Goodnight. Try not to kill each other!” She laughs on her way out.
“Death by sex, now that’s a good way to go!” I wink as I close the door. I lock it behind my best friend. Jon’s deep voice sends shivers down my back.
“So, about that hot make up sex you promised?” I fight the urge to grin. I school my features and turn back to the living room, hand on hip, and strut for full effect. Jon licks his lips and I know he’s remembering all our previous make up sessions. If there’s one thing that comes natural to us, it’s sex. I’ve never been with someone who’s made me feel so much, so fast. Our intimacy is intense and mind blowing.
“Maybe I’m not done fighting with you?” I quip. “Let’s talk about something that gets you really worked up. Mismatched socks? My driving skills? Hmm…” My lips purse into a pout and I touch the corner with one index finger. He offers a bored smirk.
“Maybe the model I picked for my next shoot?” I tip my head to the side and flash a grin.
“Kate,” he growls a warning.
“How about the bachelorette party I’m already planning for Evie? I’m thinking girls’ trip to Vegas.” Yep, that’s the icing on the cake. Jon lunges from the couch and I turn to run down the hallway but it’s no use. He catches me before I even reach the hall.
“Jon!” I scream as he picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder. I can’t contain the shit eating grin that fills my face and the laughter that falls from my lips. He smacks my ass and stomps to the bedroom. I laugh harder.
He drops me on the bed. I lay back against the cool sheets. Jon covers my body with his strong form and captures my waiting lips with his own. He steals my laughter and I melt into his kiss.
This man—all hard muscle, rough and sexy exterior, with an altruistic heart—loves me as much as I love him. He’s more than I ever dared dream. We’ve both been through so much, but by some miracle we found our way together. You can blame it on spilt beer, or pussy, or even a simple bag of Skittles. It’s not been easy, but we found forgiveness in each other, with the other—and what we uncovered is something beautiful.
The End
Continue reading for an exclusive look into Uncovering Hope, Carly’s story, coming early 2016.
“OH MY GAWD! DID YOU see Dr. FineAss making rounds this morning?” Jenny giggles from where she sits atop the counter. She’s swirling a plastic spoon through her cup of yogurt, legs swinging haphazardly.
I’m done for the day, having worked a night shift. I stretch my arms up and stifle a yawn. Jenny and I have been friends since we graduated nursing school and landed our first RN jobs here at Children’s nine years ago. She always fills me in on the latest hospital gossip. We don’t usually work together, but our shifts often overlap.
“I’m sure that’s not his name.” I grin. My uneaten snacks are still in the breakroom fridge so I pull them out and stuff them in my large purse. My phone doesn’t show any messages or missed calls and a little sigh of relief escapes. Years have passed, yet I still anticipate bad news. I try not to. It’s a bad habit I’m working to break. My brother and his fiancée take excellent care when my boys aren’t at school.
“If you’re not sure who I’m talking about, then you haven’t seen him. I’m serious, Carly. The doc has mojo. He’s only been here a few weeks and has half the floor walking around with lady boners.” Giggling, she hops down and wraps me in a bear hug.
She’s outrageous, but I chuckle along. “I’m out. I’ve got to get a few hours of sleep before the boys get home. And then I have my brother’s engagement party tonight.” Jenny nods and tosses her empty container into the trash.
“I’ll walk with you to the elevator.” She pulls the door open and lowers her voice as I walk through. “So did you have Mama Bear or Greta the Grouch as supervisor last night?”
I glance around for listening ears before I answer. “Grouch.” I shake my head and shove my hands inside my scrubs. “She’s a real you know what, and apparently I’m on her shit list.” I don’t even want to think about it. The soft, cool comforter of my bed is calling me. With the blackout shades drawn, I’ll be passed out in minutes. It’s almost cruel punishment that I still have a thirty minute commute to battle.
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me, girlfriend. Sammie said she’s been after everyone lately. I hear she’s going through a bad divorce, but that doesn’t give her an excuse to be a bitch.” I cringe a little and Jenny gasps. “Oh, gawd. I’m sorry, Carly, I didn’t mean it that way. And I wasn’t even talking about you.”
I muster a smile, “Yeah, I know, Jen. No worries.” I wave as we pass the nurses’ station. Three of my co-workers sit at the desks, huddled together, and likely trading conspiracy theories. In our pediatric oncology unit we are close, a family away from our families, and everyone knows everything about everyone. And if they don’t, they speculate, make up stories.
“Carly!” Heather calls out. I turn back to find a phone cradled between her head and her shoulder as she waves me over. “You’ve got a call, hun.” Strange. I pull my cell out to check once more. No missed calls. I wonder who it is.
“I better get that.” I smile at Jen. She pulls me in for a quick hug.
“We’ll catch up later. I should get to work, anyway. Love you, girl!” Jenny walks away and I head back to the nurses’ station. Heather hands me the phone and I lean over the desk to rest the speaker over my ear.
“Carly Reynolds speaking.” The line crackles and I push the phone tighter against my head. Silence stretches. I try once more. “This is Carly speaking. How can I help you?”
“Hello.” The familiar gravel baritone sends chills down my spine and I drop the phone; the plastic shell clatters to the desk. My heart hammers in my chest and I struggle for breath. The room spins.
“Carly. Carly, hun, you okay? You’re white as a ghost.” Heather rushes around the desk and grips my arm. She pulls me to sit in an empty
chair. I resist the urge to throw up. “Breathe. Just take deep breaths. Is everything okay? The boys aren’t hurt, are they?” My boys. I shoot to my feet. I need to get to Eli and Ezra.
“Sorry. I’ve got to go. Heather, if anyone calls here for me again do not give them any information, okay?” She nods. A worried frown fills her face.
“You know I wouldn’t, hun. You sure you’re good to drive?”
“I’m fine.” I’m not, though. I turn and race down the hallway, thankful it’s still early enough not to be crowded full of visitors. Pushing out a side exit, I shove the door with all my force, only it doesn’t fully open. A pained grunt sounds instead. A man dressed in scrubs pulls the door the rest of the way open. One hand covers his face. I don’t recognize him, but a great many people work in this hospital.
“Shit, you really got me there.” His eyes blink rapidly, and though I can’t see all his features, his ice blue stare pulls my attention.
“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry. I’m in a rush and I didn’t see you. Are you hurt?” It’s then I notice the blood start to drip from his hands. “Oh, crap. I think you’re bleeding.”
“You think? You sure you made it through med school with those deduction skills?” He jokes and pulls his hand from his face. Even though blood trickles down his frowning face, he’s very handsome. And young. And with a full head of hair. This must be Hottie Doc, or whatever they call him.
“Well, I didn’t go to med school, so there’s that.” I pull several clean tissues from my bag and place them firmly over his nostrils. “I did graduate nursing school, so you’re in good hands.”
He moves to hold the tissues in place and our hands brush in the exchange. His eyes widen and goosebumps run down my arms at the contact. I instinctively pull away. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.”
I brush past him, careful not to touch again. My hands tingle from where he grazed them and I chastise myself for getting caught up with a stranger at a time like this. I need to get to the boys’ school. See them with my own eyes. Touch them. Only then will I have any chance of getting sleep. I unlock my trusty Camry, tossing my bag in first before sliding in. The cool crisp October morning signals the best Arizona weather is just around the corner.
I take care at each turn and light, refusing to give thought to the earlier phone call lest I get in an accident. My body is tight, muscles taut, and I have to remind myself to inhale.
The boys’ school comes into view and I pull up to the red painted curb and throw my car into park. I don’t give a damn that it’s illegal. I run to the door and press the button to be buzzed inside.
“ID and name, please,” the scratchy voice calls from the speaker. I flip open my wallet, slide the license from its clear plastic holder, and lift it to the tiny camera. “Carly Reynolds, for Ezra and Eli.” The seconds tick by like hours until finally there is a loud click from the door. I reach out and pull it wide.
“Mrs. Reynolds, what can I do for you? Are you here to volunteer in one of the classrooms?” The receptionist smiles.
“No. Actually, I’m here to hug them.”
“Hug them? Mrs. Reynolds, surely you realize we can’t pull children out of class for that sort of thing. It disrupts their morning.” She pins me with a patronizing stare.
“Yes, I do. But I don’t care. They’re my children and I need to see them immediately. I also need to speak with the principal before I leave.”
“Well, Mrs. Bell is in a meeting. I’ll have to get back to you to arrange a time in her schedule.” She pulls the phone to her ear and calls each of the boys’ teachers, then requests my sons come to the office. When she replaces the receiver in its cradle I step to the edge of her desk.
“I will not leave until I speak with Mrs. Bell. I’ll sit here all damn day if I have to.” My patience is thin. I’m sleep deprived, and the mama bear inside has been woken from her den. No curly haired, middle-aged secretary will stand in the way of protecting my cubs.
“Are you threatening me, Mrs. Reynolds?” She gasps and rolls her chair away. My boys come into view and I drop to my knees.
“Mama!” they squeal and I open my arms, catching their hugs. I squeeze my eyes shut as tears threaten. I refuse to cry in front of them. My entire being settles. A feeling of peace consumes the worries from before. They’re safe.
I open my eyes and meet the accusing gaze of Ms. Gatekeeper. “No.” I murmur. “Not a threat. A promise.”
Thanks to my oldest daughter Abby who insisted I publish this book on her birthday as her gift. You can thank her for the deadline because it was daunting a few months ago and without her encouragement over the summer this book wouldn’t have happened so quickly. She’s only eleven but you’d never know it. I love you Abs and you inspire me to be a better person every day.
To my son, JD, who enjoys helping me brainstorm swag ideas and future book titles. He’s sort of brilliant with suggestions. He also looks for my books in bookstores and is confident I will be a famous writer one day, God bless him.
Little G, you’re the best two-year-old I know, nothing terrible about you. You already think it’s cool to waste hours in a café sipping iced tea while mom types away on the laptop. If you weren’t such an easygoing, joyful child I would not be pursuing this dream right now. Love you my little girly girl.
Joe thank you for supporting me through this endeavor. I know we’re still adjusting to all the pieces of this puzzle “My Wife’s a Romance Author,” trying to get them to fit just right, but having you by my side makes this easier. I put a little bit of you into every book I write because you are important. 3UG lives on!
Kerry, you know I can’t write a book without you now? I value your opinions and feedback but also the respect you show for my voice as an author is rare and precious. I can’t wait to see where your own novel takes you and it’s a privilege to read for you. Thanks for supporting me every step of this journey.
Brenda, you have this genuine ability as an editor to make me feel safe, because you treat my writing with value, and your words of encouragement along the way are just what I need to hear. You never make me feel as though my questions are stupid and I appreciate that you are pushing me to become a better writer. I feel very fortunate to have found you and am thrilled to be signing with you next fall!
To Angela and my mom, thank you for providing your time and talent to give this baby one final proof.
Stacey, I absolutely love working with you. You are an excellent formatter, and I get compliments all the time about how nice Uncovering Love reads. Thank you for being so helpful and for truly making my book shine!
To my family and friends, thank you for buying my books, listening to me talk about characters, writing deadlines, cover art, and everything else. Basically, thanks for putting up with me and coming along for the ride!
To all my book blogger social media supporters. I can’t name everyone but extend a very special thank you to those who took a chance on a new indie author:
Cassandra from CassandraReadsAlot aka Bookishcrypt you get dibs on the real life Tate (if we ever find him),
Stephanie of 3 Fictional Hearts who creates the most beautiful edits that you make them for my writing warms my heart,
Brit with Beyond Boyfriend Reviews, if this is ever optioned for TV/movies you are my casting director,
Brooke of Country Girl Romance Reviews you’ve supported me from the very beginning,
Danielle of Danielle’s Escape, Jon is yours—I hope I’ve done him justice in this story,
Megan, Judy, and all the babes of Wicked Babes Blog Reviews y’all have shown such support,
ABWO A Book Whores Obsession, for getting my name out there when no one had heard of me and for sharing my first chapters,
The Chiq Blog, for including my debut novel in the Besties for my first ever award nomination!
Sam, Lei, Rae, Kamelia, the Sinfully Sexy ladies for their inspiration, ideas, and love.
Shane, you’re not even on this cover but I have
to thank you! Your support to my success as an author has been unexpected and delightful. I can’t wait to meet you in person and rock some book signings.
On that note I have to thank Shane’s girls aka #TeamEyeball because you ladies are awesome, no other way to describe you. Thank you for reading my book, sharing reviews, and supporting my writing. I hope to meet you all someday. It’s readers like you that make this self-publishing gig worth it all!
To my Chandler Romance Writers group. Ladies, thank you for being a source of support, laughter, comradery, and encouragement.
To the talented team behind this gorgeous cover; Sommer, I’ve always been a fan of your work and have to pinch myself that you’re designing covers for my books. I love this cover; it’s beautiful and simply perfect. Golden, the photographer with the Midas touch. Chase, my oh my how you’ve grown up! Thanks for giving my readers the perfect Jonathon Beltran to dream about. Cindy, thank for playing photographer on a hot summer Arizona night. Courtney, you are beautiful, generous, and such a good sport. Thanks for playing Kate, even after a car accident and airbag malfunction.
To the woman who crafts the unassuming jewelry, who brings peace and healing and prayers to each momma that wears these pieces, Chelle, thank you. Miscarriage can be such a lonely, isolating experience. You connect us though your art. Check her out on IG @rachelle.isms or www.rachelle-isms.com as she makes stunning jewelry.
Adrianne, thank you for showing me the power of yoga practice. Learning to accept me just as I am. I am perfectly imperfect. Much love to my weight-training yogi friend.
I feel as though I must thank my favorite writing spot, Chop Shop Chandler, for your cool artsy vibe, with kind employees that offer smiles and encouragement even though I steal a booth for hours while (endlessly) refilling my iced tea.