Anger.
Pride.
Grief.
I can only imagine what he’s feeling, knowing his wife’s condition and not being able to help. On top of that, I was a dick to them at the restaurant weeks ago, which I’m sure is not helping the current waves of distrust and agitation I’m sensing in the room.
Luna walks over to Greta and grabs her hand. “How are you doing today?” she asks sweetly, her voice like a song even when she’s asking something as mundane as finding out how someone is.
Greta offers a small smile. “I’ve had better days,” she answers.
I grind my back molars in an attempt not to burst with the war of questions and thoughts I have inside me.
Greta’s blue eyes shift to me. “Brother.” She smiles a bit bigger and reaches out a hand.
A single word, and I’m figuratively brought to my knees. My spine stiffens, the hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and my nerve endings fire with the desire to move, to do something. Anything. I take hold of her hand and stand near her bed, staring into eyes so much like my own. Her hand is warm and dry but still.
“Greta, I’m sorry you’re unwell. Luna has informed me of the details behind your condition.”
“I’ll be okay.”
I raise my eyebrows up. “Then you’ve found a donor?” I deadpan, getting right to the heart of the matter.
She closes her eyes. “No, but I will. I’m sure I have many years left on this earth.”
I clench my teeth. “I’m scheduled to be tested later this morning,” I announce.
There’s a definite benefit to Luna being best friends with a well-respected doctor at this facility. We were able to call Dr. Amber Alexander last night and inform her of my desire to be tested. She promised to notify the appropriate parties first thing. She kept that promise. Not an hour before visiting hours were to open, I was called by a staff member in the Hematology Department to schedule my test.
“Grant…you didn’t need to do that—” Greta starts to object.
I cut her off. “Yes. I. Did. For once in my life, I have family. We may not know each other, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you die and not get my chance to get to know you.”
Tears fall down Greta’s cheeks. “I didn’t want you to come into our lives this way…” She hiccups and sobs.
Brett takes her other hand and brings it to his lips, kisses it, and comforts her. “Pookie, you have to let him get tested. This could be your best chance for a match. You know they told us siblings were the most likely source for a bone marrow match that would produce new cells after transplantation. There is also the least chance of rejection.”
More tears fill Greta’s eyes. “Grant, I wanted you in my life. Not to have to save it.”
I grab her other hand and smile. “That’s what big brothers are for, right?”
She laughs and grips my hand with both of hers.
“I’ll never be able to repay you for this, especially if you’re a match.” She sucks in a shallow breath.
“Then you’ll owe me one someday.” I grin. “Maybe when Luna and I have children, you’ll babysit for us.”
Her eyes shine with happiness. “I’d love that. And you have to meet my kids, Gavin and Gabriella. Gavin looks exactly like you. Brown hair and blue eyes. Gabriella is her daddy’s girl. Blond hair and light eyes. We’re not sure of the color yet, but I want you to meet them soon.”
Luna runs her hand down my back and curls against my side. I loop my arm around her waist, appreciating her warmth and solidarity. “I look forward to that day.”
A nurse enters the room and greets Greta and then informs us she needs to take some blood samples and other medical things she needs privacy for. I nod and then lean over Greta’s bed and place a single kiss on her forehead.
“I’ll let you know the results of the test. I’m slated for eleven a.m. They said it would only take a few hours because they have hematologists on hand here to run the necessary tests. We’ll know this afternoon.”
Greta nods. “Thank you, Grant. I’m not sure there are words that can express my gratitude for what you’re doing.”
“Just live… That’s all that matters.”
I turn around and head out the door, Luna by my side, until I hear Brett call from somewhere behind us.
“Grant, hey, wait up.” He jogs the twenty odd feet to us. “Look, man, I know we got off on the wrong foot…”
“All my fault.” I raise my hands in a gesture of surrender. “I wasn’t expecting to hear the information your wife told me. Having a sister wasn’t even on my radar.”
Brett rubs at the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I didn’t take your response well. It’s just with Greta being sick and a new baby… The house of cards is falling down around me.”
I reach my hand out and cup his shoulder with the most supportive gesture I can muster. “It’s okay. I understand. Any man in your position would lose his mind. If it was Luna…” I shake my head.
Brett nods and swallows, his voice scratchy when he responds. “What you’re doing could save her. Truly save her life, and I’m thankful. So, thank you. For what you’re about to do.”
“Man, we don’t even know if I’m a good match.” My own voice cracks, and I cough to clear it.
“No, but the fact that you want to try means a whole helluva lot.” He pulls out a business card. “This is my contact information. It has my cell phone on it too.”
I reach into my own pocket and pull out one of my cards and hand it to him. “Same here.”
He pockets the card and smiles. “Okay, well, keep us posted.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks again. Good seeing you, Luna.”
“You as well,” Luna states, looping her fingers with mine.
We both watch as he walks back to his wife’s room, his shoulders down and his head forward.
Luna leans her head against mine and runs her free hand up and down my arm. “You’re a good man, Grant Winters.”
I look down and kiss her forehead.
“Let’s go see about the test. I hear it’s a bit painful.”
“Oh…I’m sure I can nurse you back to health,” she says suggestively.
“Lamb, are you suggesting some sexy role playing where you’re the hot nurse and I’m your patient?”
She giggles. “Maybe. Why? Does that excite you?”
“Hell yes! Come on, Nurse Marigold, I know how we’re going to kill a few hours while waiting for the results after my test.”
“You’re a bad boy.”
“Just a minute ago I was a good man. Now I’m a bad boy?” I knock her shoulder with my own.
She chuckles, and the sound lifts my mood. “You’ve got me.”
“Oh, I have no doubt I’m going to get you…right between your pretty thighs.”
“Shhhh! Grant!” she scolds, and we laugh all the way to my appointment with the lab.
Please, God, make me a match.
Chapter Nineteen
When you have a perfectly balanced crown chakra, you will feel grounded, in control of your emotions, connected to God, and intuitive.
LUNA
After the test was complete, we went home and made love. Grant was quiet on the way home, but the second we entered my loft, he was pushing me against the wall, his hard body all over me.
Now we lie in bed, his face resting against my chest, one finger drawing circles over my breasts, down my rib cage, around my naval, and back up.
“Are you scared?” I ask, worried he’s not expressing his feelings through words.
He blows out a puff of air, and it warms my nipple. “Yeah. I want to be a match.”
I cup the back of his head, holding him closer to me. “I want you to be a match too.”
“It’s strange.”
“What is?”
“Before meeting Greta, I had nothing in my life to live for besides you and work. Now the possibilities are far grander. A sister, brother-in-law, and a
niece and nephew. I’ve never had a family before. And Luna, I want it. So bad I can taste it. It’s like I’ve been presented with this new life, one with you and a family, and I’ll stop at nothing to have it. Does that make sense?”
My eyes water, knowing this is hurting him. Understanding the ache he must have. I had it when I lost my father. Before his passing, my family of three was everything. Now my mother is traveling with her best friend, and I’m here alone. Except I’m not. I have Grant now and the studio and everyone in it.
“It makes perfect sense. And I have a feeling it’s all going to be okay.” I kiss the crown of his head.
He sighs and goes back to tracing my shape with his fingertips. I don’t know if it comforts him to touch me or if he’s attempting to go for round three, but with each pass of his fingertips around my erect nipple, a jolt of arousal shoots through my body and lands between my thighs.
I wrap my arms around him. He lifts up his face and smirks before shifting his body on top of mine and kissing between my breasts. Slowly, he moves to one aching tip and then the other, worshiping my breasts and neck, bathing me in kisses.
I sigh and arch into his ministrations, loving every second. He works his way down, nipping at my ribs, licking a circle around my belly button, until he reaches between my thighs.
“Spread your legs for me, lamb. I want my mouth on you.”
I do as he asks, opening my legs.
He sits up on his knees and slides both hands down my thighs. His touch is one of reverence, his expression, awe.
“I love every inch of you, Luna. Your pearlescent skin. Your bee-stung lips. Sky-blue eyes. Fiery red hair, but nothing…nothing compares to the beauty between your thighs. I’m starved for you.” He covers my sex with the heat of his mouth.
I cry out and grip his hair as he devours me, taking me higher and higher in mere minutes until every press of his lips and tongue sends ribbons of pleasure rippling through my nerve endings, and I fly apart. Lost to the magic of his dark kiss.
He brings me down slowly, leisurely, as though he has all the time in the world to please me.
And then his cell phone rings right as he’s about to enter me for the third time today.
His entire body goes rigid. Each of his beautiful muscles bulging, skin misted with sweat from giving me his all. The erection between those powerful thighs is long, hard, and so thick I mewl with the desire to have him inside, completing me.
He scrambles from between my legs and around the bed where his phone lies.
“Winters,” he barks into the phone. “Yes.” His once heated gaze turns sharper, more focused, and I watch as my man closes his eyes and then looks up at the sky as if he’s sending a silent prayer up to the heavens above. A serene expression crosses his face, and a small smile forms on his lips. “That’s great news.”
I sit up, tugging the sheet to cover my naked body. His smiles make me smile.
He’s a match. That must be the reason for his happy expression. I know it straight through to my soul.
Then, as if water was splashed over his face, he frowns, his eyebrows coming so close together on his forehead they’re almost touching.
“I’m sorry. Is that unusual?”
Those same expressive eyebrows seem to have a life of their own as they rise in what I can only assume is shock.
“What exactly are you saying?” His tone is firm and unrelenting.
I watch, my breath caught in my throat, as he starts to pace, naked as the day he was born, his erection deflating at whatever news he’s received.
“And that only occurs with full-blooded siblings.” He states matter-of-factly. “I see. Thank you. Set up the harvest as necessary. I will take whatever appointment is available.”
He hangs up his cell and tosses it on the bed. Grant’s hands go into his hair, and he starts to pace again. “Fuck!”
Uh-oh. He only paces when he’s trying to work through uncomfortable information.
“Grant, honey, what is it? You’re a match, right?”
He nods. “Yeah. Oh, I’m a match all right.”
I shimmy out of bed and stop him midstride. “Then what’s the matter? This is what you wanted, correct? To be able to donate.”
He puts his hands behind his neck, his fingers clasped, elbows parallel to the floor. “I’m a match.”
“Okay, that’s good.” I place my hands on his pecs. “Then what’s wrong?”
“I’m a perfect fucking match. None better.” His face is turning red.
He’s angry.
“Big man, you’re going to have to help me out here. I’m not catching on to the problem.”
“Apparently, the test they did not only proves your percentage of compatibility, but it confirmed that Greta Tinsley is my biological sister.”
I frown. “We already knew that. You share the same mother.”
He shakes his head and speaks through clenched teeth. “No. That would make her my half sister. She’s my full sister because we share the same mother and father.”
I open my mouth and gawk. “No…”
“Yes,” he growls.
Gooseflesh rises all over my skin. “How can this be? Greta said that when your mom left, she was pregnant with another man’s baby.”
Grant turns around and goes over to the rack of clothing we added for him near my own wardrobe. It’s a makeshift clothing alternative for now until we have our new home. He rips off a T-shirt and pair of jeans.
“Means we don’t have all the information, and neither does Greta. I spent thirty years not knowing my sister. I’m not spending the next thirty in the dark.”
“What are you doing? Where are you going?” I ask as he slips on a pair of underwear and then his jeans.
“To talk to my father.”
“Um, do you think that’s a good idea when you don’t know all the information? Besides, shouldn’t we get to Greta first to tell her and Brett the good news?” I’m trying to be the voice of reason. He needs to cool down before he speaks to Grant Senior.
Grant tugs on his shirt, the black material stretching delectably across his muscular chest. I follow his lead, slipping into a pair of underwear and then yoga pants, a bra, tank, and a tunic.
“Fine. I’ll call him while we’re there. Have him meet us. This bullshit ends today. I want answers, and someone is going to give them to me.” His tone brooks no arguments.
I nod and slip into some gladiator sandals before pulling my hair up into a ponytail. Makeup is not an option. Grant is already about to burst out of his skin if we don’t get in the car and head to the hospital soon.
He grabs my hand as I cross the strap of my purse over my body. We’re out the door and headed to the hospital at lightning speed.
GRANT
The minute we enter the room, the three people already seated stop speaking. Greta is lying in the bed, Brett on one side of her, a redheaded woman I can just barely remember at her other side.
The woman stands up, her hair falling down her back like I recall from my memories. Her hair and eyes have haunted my dreams. And in every last one of them, she still leaves.
“Grant. Son,” she whispers, as if my presence is hurting her emotionally.
I narrow my gaze at her as Luna glues herself to my side. I wrap an arm around her shoulders, keeping her close. I’m going to need her fortitude to get through this moment.
Ignoring the woman, I turn my focus to Greta. “I’m a match.”
Brett, who stood when I entered, leans heavily over his wife’s bed, his shoulders starting to quake. “Thank you, God!”
His wife grabs his hand, but her eyes are on me. “You’re a match?” Her voice quavers.
“Yes.” I choke down the emotion swelling in my throat.
“You don’t have to do this.” Her voice cracks, and her eyes fill with tears.
“Yes, I do. You’re my sister. I’m your brother. I take care of what’s mine.”
Tears rain down her cheeks in rivulets.
Brett comes around the bed, arms open wide. Luna releases me, and I let the man hug me. He claps my back hard. “Grant…I can’t thank you enough. Shit…” He sobs, and I wrap my arms around him and hug him back as he breaks down.
“Owe you, man. Owe you everything.” He barely gets the words out on a hoarse whisper before pulling away and rubbing a hand down his face, getting himself back together.
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” I announce. “Her body has to accept my marrow, though the hematologist doesn’t see any problem with that since we’re a perfect match, which often comes with full-blooded siblings. Isn’t that right…Mother?” I grate through clenched teeth and glare at the woman standing silently to my right.
Greta clears her throat. “What are you talking about? Mom?” Greta grabs our mother’s wrist, and she jolts as if she’d been zapped with electricity.
“I don’t know, baby girl…” she attempts, but there is no way in hell I’m going to let her continue to lie to either of us.
“You absolutely do. Stop lying. For once. Tell her the truth. Tell us all the truth.” My voice rises to the point where I’m almost yelling.
Luna sidles back up to me and puts a hand to my chest. I can feel her touch seep deep into my soul, soothing me like a cool balm over a heated burn.
“Your father didn’t believe me!” she says. “I told him the baby was his, but he cast me out anyway. Said I was fooling around on him. Over and over I told him I wasn’t. He wouldn’t believe me.” Her volume turns a bit high-pitched.
I close my eyes as the ramifications of what she’s saying slam into my heart.
“Why would he think you were unfaithful?” I say flatly.
My mother twists her fingers and looks down at the floor. A shameful stance if I ever saw one. “There was this man. Chris. Another father at your kindergarten class. We became close. He was a single father, and um, very attractive.” She picks up a hunk of her hair and runs her hands over it in what seems to be a nervous gesture.
“Continue.” I glance at Greta.
Brett’s sitting on the hospital bed, his wife in his arms, her face planted against his chest but her eyes on our mother.
Enlightened End Page 22