by Carrie Elks
Meghan nodded, dialing 911.
“Oh no. I don’t need to go.” Gloria’s eyes were wide and frightened. “I’ll just go to bed. I’ll be right as rain in the morning. You can check on me then.”
“We need to do an EKG and monitor your blood oxygen levels. I don’t have that kind of equipment here.” Gloria started to shake, tears shining in her eyes. “It’s okay, I’ll go with you,” he told her, his voice so soft you could wrap yourself up in it. “There’s no need to be afraid. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“But it’s night time. You should sleep.” Gloria’s eyes started to water.
“I’ll sleep once we’ve got you settled.” He looked over Meghan’s shoulder. “Can you go pack a bag for her? In case they keep her in?”
“Of course.” She was glad to be able to do something to help. She felt useless watching him hold Gloria’s hand as tears started to roll down her face.
By the time Meghan had found everything she needed and zipped the bag up, she heard the apartment door open. There was the low murmur of voices, and Gloria’s higher pitch. One of the paramedics was kneeling down in front of her, the other talking to Rich.
“We’re going to wheel you down on a gurney,” the first paramedic told Gloria. “Until we get your heart under control we need you to stay safe and not fall. We don’t want any broken bones to deal with.”
Gloria nodded, and they worked quick to get her situated for transport. In no time the five of them were headed down in the elevator, the paramedics wheeling her out to the ambulance as Meghan passed Gloria’s bag to Rich. “Shall I follow in my car?”
He shook his head. “You’ve had wine. And there’s no point. I’ll call you if there’s any change.”
“Is it bad?”
He pulled his lip between his teeth. “I think it’s atrial fibrillation. But we’ll have to wait for test results to rule everything else out.”
“Everything else?”
“Heart attack. Stroke. Or possibly heart failure.” He blew out a mouthful of air. “Those are worst case scenarios.”
“We’re ready to go,” the paramedic called out. Rich nodded and glanced at Meghan.
“Call me when you get a chance.”
He ran his fingertip over her cheekbone. “Get some sleep. I’ll let you know how she is in the morning.”
Then he was climbing into the ambulance, talking with the paramedic, and Meghan crossed her arms over her body, watching it pull away.
17
Meghan was sitting on the sofa, her legs curled beneath her, a cold cup of coffee cradled in her hands when the sound of the elevator cut through the silence of her apartment. It was still dark outside her window, though the nature of the light was changing, more of an inky blue than black as the sun began to rise.
A slow rap of knuckles came from the door.
She uncrossed her legs, wincing at the stiffness of her muscles, and walked across the apartment, pulling the door open to see Rich standing there.
There were shadows beneath his eyes. His hair was mussed up. And when his gaze met hers she saw a blankness there she hadn’t seen before.
“How is Gloria? Is she still there?” Meghan asked.
He nodded. “She’s stable. They’ve moved her to a ward.”
“Do you want to come in?” She inclined her head at her living room. “I can make you a drink or something to eat?”
“I don’t know.” His brows pinched. “I should sleep, but I don’t think I can.”
“Nor can I.”
He followed her into her apartment, his breathing soft as she led him to the kitchen. She slid a capsule into her coffee machine, then grabbed a carton of milk from the refrigerator. “Do you know what caused her fall?” she asked. Rich was slumped against the kitchen counter.
“I was right. It was atrial fibrillation. They’re putting her on some medication and will be keeping her for a day or two. But they’re talking about putting a pacemaker in.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I should have known this was happening. If I’d just paid more attention to her.”
“How could you have known?” Meghan asked gently. “She never said anything. I saw her yesterday morning and she was fine. Or at least she said she was.”
He shook his head. “Turns out she’s been feeling off for days.”
Meghan walked across the kitchen, taking his hand between her own. “You didn’t know,” she told him again. “It’s not your fault.”
“It feels like it is.”
She reached up, cupping his jaw between her warm palms. Rich swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, his eyes heavy lidded as he looked down at her. She hated the exhaustion she saw in the depths.
“It’s okay,” she murmured, tracing his jaw with the pad of her thumb. “It’s not your fault. You saved her. She’s in the right place now.”
His brows pinched, three vertical lines appearing above the bridge of his nose. She wanted to smooth them away. To make it all better.
To make him smile again.
Rolling onto the ball of her feet, she pressed her lips against his hard, rough jaw. She could hear his breath catch in his throat. His eyes closed as he inhaled sharply. She kissed him again, brushing her lips along his jaw to his throat, kissing the warm skin of his neck.
“It’s okay,” she whispered again. “You’re okay.”
He wrapped his hands around her waist, his fingers digging into her hips. She could see a pulse flickering in his neck.
She trailed her lips down his throat, to the curve of his shoulder. He pulled her against him, her breasts pressing to his hard chest, the thick ridge of him prominent against her abdomen. A warmth washed over her skin.
“I’m sorry…” he whispered, as though ashamed of his need.
“Don’t be. Just let me touch you. Hold you.” She didn’t know what else to do. The need to comfort him mixed with a heady desire coursing through her veins, making her thigh muscles tense with every heartbeat. With her hands on his chest she traced the lines of his pectorals through the thin fabric of his t-shirt, brushing her fingers over his nipples, making him gasp.
The room was silent, save for his harsh breaths and the pulse of blood rushing through her ears. He held himself still, a willing participant to the comfort she was trying to give him. When she slid her hand down, beneath the hem of his t-shirt, and pressed her palms against his burning skin, he tipped his head back, his jaw tense, his eyes darkening with desire.
“Meghan… I…” he groaned. “Don’t stop…”
“I won’t,” she murmured, kissing his jaw again. Her hands traced a pattern against the ridges of his stomach, up his torso, her fingers spreading over his chest. “Let me make you feel better.”
He was as hard as iron. Long and thick against her. She lifted his t-shirt, and he held his arms up, only lowering them when she threw it to the floor. His beauty dazzled her. The warm tan of his skin, the tautness of his abs, the dark line of hair that ran from his navel to his waistband, inviting her in.
“Tell me what you need,” she said, pressing her lips against his chest. He smelled so damn good it sent her brain into a whirl.
“Kiss me.” His voice was low. Harsh. As if to underline it, he pulled one hand from her hip and pressed his fingertips to her chin, lifting her head until their gazes clashed. She could see the desire in his eyes, feel it against her body. This man was like a drug to her veins.
His lips were soft and heated. He brushed them against hers, making her toes clench. His fingers curled around her neck, angling her perfectly until he could deepen the kiss, his tongue sliding along the seam of her mouth until she willingly welcomed him.
His kiss was achingly sweet. Full of so many emotions it made her chest hurt. He held her face with one hand, the other sliding up her back, sending tingles down her spine as he kept her steady against him. She could feel the balance of power flip between them, as he took charge, kissing and touching her until her body felt like it
was flying.
“Can we go to bed?” he asked, his voice heavy from their kiss.
She nodded, lacing her fingers through his, thanking god for the short distance between her kitchen and bedroom. Rich was right behind her, still holding her hand, using his other to pull the door closed. The sun was beginning to rise now, burnt orange shafts of light sneaking through the gap in her curtains. He released her hand, using his own to turn her until she was in his arms again, kissing her with a confident force that left her in no doubt that he wanted this.
She wanted it, too. Wanted him. He reached down to cup her breasts through her pajama top, making her thighs clench deliciously against each other.
And then he lifted her up, and carried her to bed.
Just touching her chased all the shadows away. Rich climbed between her thighs, using his own, more powerful legs, to open hers a little more, and kissed her again, marveling at how sweet she tasted. She was like a drug. He couldn’t get enough of her. Laying on the bed beneath him, she felt like a gift meant only for him.
“Can I take this off?” He ran his finger along the hem of her tank. Meghan nodded, her flaming hair a halo as it cascaded over her white pillow. He inched it up, his mouth dry as he took in the paleness of her skin. She was flawless, her body taut, yet soft. Her flesh was warm as he traced his fingers over her. And when her top was off, he pressed his own bare chest against her, letting out a groan as his almost-painful excitement pressed against her warm, damp core.
Her breasts were as beautiful as the rest of her, peaked with dark nipples that hardened as he traced his finger around them. He brushed his lip against one, softly swirling his tongue against the peak, pleasure surging through him as she gasped when he sucked her in.
He could feel the drum of his pulse as it throbbed through his erection. Could feel the heat of his blood as it rushed around him. And then there was her. Meghan. The woman he’d fantasized about way too many times, looking up at him with those soft green eyes that haunted his dreams.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice a rasp.
“So are you,” she whispered, a smile playing at her lips as she traced the line of his stomach, down to the waistband of his jeans.
“What do you want? How far should we…” He blinked, trying to find the right words.
“I want you. All of you,” she said, her voice gritty.
Damn if that didn’t make him harder still. “I haven’t got anything,” he told her. And he wasn’t willing to leave her now. The spell they were under was too enticing, too perfect.
He’d give her pleasure the way he knew how. It would be enough to see her fall apart beneath his touch. But then she shook her head.
“I’m on the pill. And I’m clean.” She pulled her lip between her teeth and looked up at him. “It’s been a while.”
His desire surged. “For me, too. I got tested this year.” And now all he could think about was her. How perfect she was. “I can’t believe you’re here beneath me.”
Her eyes held his. “Believe it.”
Sliding his hand beneath her head, he pressed his mouth to hers. The soft warmth of her lips teased him as he slid his tongue against hers. She arched her chest against him and it made his body tighten. He had to close his eyes to steady himself.
Pulling back until he was on his knees, he crawled back down the mattress, his fingers hooking around her thighs to pull them even further apart. She was wearing a pair of thin cotton pajama shorts, and he slid his fingers beneath the hem, blinking hard when he felt how soft and bare she was.
And wet. So damn wet. A gasp escaped from her lips as he traced the outline of her, closing his eyes because he never wanted this to end. He was lost in her, consumed by their mutual desire. Sliding his finger inside her, he ached when she called out his name.
Pulling her shorts off, he slid his head between her thighs, his breath catching as he pressed his tongue against her. Her legs tightened around him, her fingers tangled in his hair, and when he licked her where she needed it most, she arched her back from the mattress.
It took less than a minute to send her soaring. She cried his name again, and it sent waves of pleasure through him, his body swelling against his jeans, the pressure almost painful. Meghan urged him upward, her breathing heavy as his lips connected with hers, and she tasted her pleasure on him, her frantic kisses telling him she needed more.
Her fingers tugged at his waistband and he had to help her, shucking his jeans and shorts off until he was naked over her. She looked so delicate beneath him, made him feel a hundred feet tall. Then she smiled deliciously, hooking her legs around his hips, pulling him until he was exactly where he needed to be.
When he slid inside, it was like driving into oblivion. A perfectly enticing void where only the two of them existed. She was everything he knew she would be. Warm, welcoming, and so tight he had to fight not to let the pleasure overtake him.
She reached up, brushing his hair from his brow, kissing him sweetly as she hitched her hips to meet his. Her breath was coming in little sighs, their rhythm matching the roll of his body into hers.
He was lost in her eyes. Lost in the whole of her. He never wanted to leave. She comforted and teased, consoled and delighted. She was everything he never knew he needed until he was there.
And when she tightened around him, her back arching again until all he could feel was the sweet grip of her, he knew he was close. He slid his hand beneath her behind, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, hitching her leg around his waist so he could go deeper. Their kisses were hard and needy, making him breathless and dizzy. Hot pleasure was building inside of him until the release was inevitable.
Then he was coming so damn hard, he had to brace himself on the mattress to stop himself from smothering her. She hooked her arms around his neck, her lips opening as she joined him in that sweet oblivion once more. He was tensing, convulsing, emptying himself into her, and at that moment he knew there was nothing else for him.
Nothing but her.
And damn if that wasn’t the most frightening thought he’d ever had.
The waves of pleasure softened, and he found his breath again, his panting heavy and thick as he stared into her eyes. They were soft, and so achingly perfect. As though she knew exactly how he was feeling. The home he never realized he’d wanted until he’d seen it for himself.
18
It was almost five in the evening by the time Meghan got to the hospital. She’d called, of course, and gotten regular updates via text from Rich, but the shop had been too busy for her to sneak off any earlier, even if all she could think about was Gloria.
And Rich. But that was inevitable. He was the first man she’d slept with in the longest of times. Not just because being a single mom meant dating was pretty damn difficult, but because she hadn’t wanted to date anyway. She’d been burnt once and that made her choosy.
And last night her libido had chosen Rich.
Not that she regretted it. Even if the morning after had been stressed as hell, with Rich running off to the hospital and Meghan having to shower, get dressed, and rush to the ice cream shop with only two hours sleep to tide her over. Last night – or this morning really – had been the most devastatingly sweet sex she’d ever had. And from the way he’d stared at her as he cradled her face against his chest, as they both slowly slipped into sleep, Rich had felt the same.
“Can I help you?” the receptionist in the main hospital lobby asked.
“I’m here to see Gloria Barker. She came in last night with a heart issue.” In all her texts and updates from Rich, she’d forgotten to ask what ward Gloria was on.
“Are you a relative?”
“Her neighbor. I was with her when the ambulance came for her.”
The receptionist tapped on her computer. “There she is. On the cardiac care unit. You’ll want the Cedar Ward, on level eight. Take the elevator behind me to eight. You’ll have to buzz the door to be let on to the unit.”
Gloria was in a private room on the ward, with large picture windows overlooking the town and the ocean beyond. Light flooded in, making the already-white room look almost heavenly. Her face lit up as Meghan walked in, and she slid a bookmark into the paperback romance she was holding, putting it on the tray in front of her.
“How are you feeling?” Meghan asked, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. It felt cool and papery.
“Bored.” Gloria wrinkled her nose. “It’s not like the movies in here. I was expecting a constant stream of hot doctors and pretty nurses.” She sighed. “But at least I have Rich. He’s been in three times already.”
Meghan smiled at the mention of him. “Have they said what happens next?”
“I have two more tests tomorrow, but they’re happy that my heart rhythm is back to normal. If the tests are fine, I’ll be released by mid-week and then I get to come back in a month for follow up.”
“You’ll be released that soon?” Meghan blinked.
“So they say. And I won’t be sorry. I miss my apartment. And you, of course. How’s Isla?”
“She’s good. She spent the weekend at my parents’ house. My dad’s bringing her home in about an hour.”
“I bet she loved that.” Gloria smiled.
“She did.”
“And I bet you loved having the break.” Gloria frowned. “At least until I ruined everything.”
“You didn’t ruin anything. You got sick, that was all.” Meghan smiled softly at her. “Have you heard from your son yet?”
“He called a little while ago. It’s evening in London now. I had to tell him not to get on a flight to see me. Everybody’s making such a fuss.” She clucked her tongue. “It was just a little fainting episode.”
“It was more than that. Rich was worried about you.” Meghan squeezed her hand. “I was, too. If you start to feel bad again you need to ask for help right away. We don’t want you to get sick.”