by Janice Lynn
She tugged on her shorts again, as if she was trying to stretch them over every piece of exposed skin to keep his prying eyes away.
“Why are you telling me this? I don’t want you to touch me.” But she was lying and they both knew it. He could see the truth in her eyes. In the way her nipples puckered through her bra and T-shirt to declare just how much he affected her, just how much she wanted to be touched.
“But it’s not just the wanting that is between us,” he continued. “You make me feel more than any other person I’ve ever known. In a single minute you can take me through every emotion. No one else can do that. Just you.”
She quit tugging on her shorts, stared at him as if trying to decide if he was serious or if he was setting her up some way just so he could knock her down. He hated the mistrust with which she gazed at him, but he supposed only time would heal some wounds.
“You think you don’t affect me just as strongly?” she asked, adjusting her gaze to stare out at the sparkles from the sun on the lake water. “I don’t want you here and yet...” Her voice trailed off and she shrugged.
“You don’t want me to leave?”
She turned, smiled softly, sadly. “No, Ross, I don’t want you to go. I never wanted you to leave. Despite what you may believe, I always wanted you in Justice’s life.” When he started to speak, she lifted her hand to stop him. “Maybe you find that hard to believe since I didn’t tell you. All I can say is that I did want you there and I missed that you weren’t there. Always. More than you will ever know or believe. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”
He didn’t want to leave anything. He wanted her to explain, to make him understand how she’d made the decisions she had and had thought they had been the right decisions when they had meant keeping his son from him. But at the moment he wanted to have a truce with her more than anything else.
“For Justice’s sake,” he said, knowing that at some point they would have to discuss the very things she’d just asked him to leave alone.
“And although we both feel this heat between us, Ross, we have to ignore it,” she continued, her gaze going to where their son was studying a rock he held in his palm. “Justice wouldn’t understand.”
Did she think he was going to do her up against the kitchen counters with their son around? Hardly.
“If we opted to become sexually involved with each other again,” Ross began, “he wouldn’t have to know. Neither should he know, really.”
Shaking her head, she laughed at his comment. “You’ll quickly learn that there is no keeping things from Justice. He’d know something was happening between us. Just as he knows there are negative feelings between us regardless of the fact we pretend otherwise in front of him.”
On that she was right and he agreed one hundred percent. Justice might be just under five and Ross had just met him, but he could tell the boy was very perceptive.
He glanced at their son, watched the boy intently examining the rock. That was his child, his flesh and blood. Amazing how quickly the boy had stolen his heart. Then again, Justice was also half Brielle.
He took a deep breath, blew it out, and felt a great deal of tension leave his body along with the air. “Which is why, despite how betrayed I feel by the choices you made five years ago and every day since, I am going to let that hurt go and move forward, because from this point on we have to focus on the future, on what is right for our son.”
“I... Yes, you’re right.” Brielle nodded in agreement. “I agree. Justice is what’s most important. His well-being. Thank you for understanding that.”
He understood much more than she gave him credit for. He wondered just how agreeable she was going to be when he pressed forward. Probably not nearly so accommodating as her current smiling face.
“On that same token,” he told her, watching her closely, “you have to let go that I left, Brielle.”
Her amicable expression paled.
“You can’t keep bringing it up,” he continued, determined to see this through. Not only for Justice but for both their sakes, too. They needed peace, for the past to be in the past, for the present to be clear so they could figure out the future. “You can’t keep throwing the past between us as a barrier to us starting over and forging a new relationship, whatever that relationship might be.”
Her eyes widened.
“It’s time you forgave me.” Past time as far as he was concerned. “Do you think you can do that?”
Ross waited, but she just sat on the rock, knees held to her chest, skin pale.
When she still didn’t speak, he continued. “If I can put the fact that I lost five years of my son’s life behind me and forgive you...” which he wasn’t sure he had, but he could either dwell on the past or embrace the future. He preferred to embrace the future “...then it really isn’t too much to expect you to do the same in regard to me having accepted the position in Boston.”
The fact that he couldn’t say “leaving you” should tell him that she was right to blame him in some ways, because it had been about much more than just accepting the position.
His gaze met hers and he saw tears shimmering in her big eyes, saw regret and so many other things blazing in those golden-brown depths.
“Ross, I—”
“I found one!” Justice came running towards them, his hand outstretched with a rock gripped in his tiny fingers. “Look!”
“Be careful,” Brielle warned, her attention completely off Ross and focused solely on their son. Her face pinched as she stood to reach for Justice right as he lost his footing on a loose rock and tumbled forward, falling just a few feet away.
Brielle moved quicker than Ross, getting to the crying boy and lifting him into her arms. “You have to be careful on the rocks, baby. Let me check you. What hurts?”
But even before the boy sobbed out an answer Ross was already taking in the red soaking into Brielle’s shirt, taking in the red that ran down Justice’s leg and dripped from his hand.
The sight of blood had never bothered him. He was a doctor, for goodness’ sake. But the sight of his son’s blood leaving his tiny body, of blood staining Brielle’s clothing, made him feel light-headed, and if he hadn’t known better he’d say that was nausea welling in his stomach.
“Oh, Justice, sweetie.” Cradling him in her arms, kissing the top of his head and offering tender words of comfort, Brielle examined his bleeding hand then his knee while Ross tried to pull himself together.
What was wrong with him? His knees didn’t threaten to buckle at a little blood. Or a lot of blood even. At various points during his medical career he’d dealt with nasty motor vehicle accidents, amputations, and hemorrhages that had looked like a massacre had taken place. None had twisted his stomach inside out the way the site of his son’s lifeblood on the wrong side of his tiny body did.
“The cut on his hand is pretty deep, but the one on his knee is worse,” Brielle said above the sound of Justice’s crying. She stared at Ross as if wondering what was up with his frozen-statue routine. “What do you think? He’s going to need stitches in both, isn’t he?”
“I don’t want ’titches.” Justice’s crying picked up a notch and Brielle’s gaze dropped to the sobbing little boy in her lap.
“Shh, baby. It’s okay,” she comforted him, holding the boy even more tightly in her arms. “Mommy’s got you.” When Ross didn’t answer her question or move, she glanced up at him and frowned. “I’ll hold him while you check him, Ross. We’ve got to get some pressure on to stop the bleeding. Now,” she said, the last word in a raised voice, her tone warning him that he needed to get his act together.
Ross kicked into doctor mode and bent to check Justice. First his hand, which had an avulsion tear in the center of his palm where he’d tried to save himself from his fall. The jagged edge of a rock had torn into his tender flesh, lifting
the skin back in a V shape. Next he checked the wide cut on his knee.
“Both are deep enough that they need sutures,” he said, hating that Justice was feeling pain, would have to be anesthetized and sutured.
“That’s what I thought,” Brielle agreed, her eyes widening as Ross took off his T-shirt. “What are you doing?”
“Making Justice bandages. You can apply pressure while I drive him to the hospital where I can suture him. Plus, he won’t be so upset if we stop the bleeding and he’s not seeing blood.”
Neither would Ross because the sight of blood all over Justice and Brielle was upsetting him too. These were the two most important people in his life and one of them was hurt and there was little he could do.
He needed to be doing something, anything.
“You’re going to suture him?” Brielle sounded surprised.
Surely she hadn’t thought he’d let someone else do what he was more than capable of doing? Then again, after he’d been frozen for those first several seconds, perhaps she’d been justified.
“I am a medical doctor who works in the emergency room at the hospital where we will be going,” he reminded them both as he ripped his T-shirt, making a rough strip of the piece he’d torn from around the hem. “I don’t see a reason for someone else to suture my son, do you?”
“I don’t want sutures,” Justice cried pitifully between sobs, although Ross wasn’t sure if the boy even knew what stitches or sutures meant. Or maybe he did. Had his son ever had sutures? There were so many things he didn’t know. So many things he wanted to learn about his son.
For the rest of their lives he’d be there, would know all the things there were to know about his child.
“I just thought...” Brielle began, then stopped, closed her eyes. “Whatever you want to do is fine. He is on my health insurance from the hospital so if you don’t want to suture him, that’s fine. My insurance will cover the emergency room visit.”
Only after her out-of-pocket maximum and deductible were met. Or had she already met her deductible? Had Justice had other accidents? Other medical expenses earlier in the year?
Medical expenses. Expenses period. Brielle had been carrying the financial load from the beginning. Five years she’d carried the burden of being a parent alone. Lord only knew what Justice’s birth and preemie care had cost. Many women would have told him, a doctor with a great income, about their pregnancy just to have him pay child support and share in the expenses. Not Brielle. Leave it to her to be one who’d bear the challenges silently, never complaining, never asking for help even if she struggled to make ends meet.
That would change.
He made a makeshift bandage and tied it round Justice’s knee, putting constant pressure on the wound. “For the record, I will give you back child support. Five years’ worth. More. You tell me how much and it’s yours.”
“Where did that come from?” Brielle’s mouth fell open and she stared at him aghast. “I don’t want back child support. Justice and I get along just fine by ourselves.” Sensing that her tone was upsetting their son further, she softened her voice. “Now is not the time for us to be having this discussion.”
She was right.
Justice was still crying in her arms, but with a lot less fervor. His decreased agitation had helped to slow the bleeding as well.
Ross took Justice’s small hand in his, hating the feel of the sticky blood covering his skin. He made a bandage of sorts from the remainder of his shirt and pressed it to the wound.
“Ouch. Ouch. Ouch,” Justice cried anew, jerking his hand away from Ross’s, not wanting anything to touch his wound. “Mommy, make him stop.”
“Here, buddy,” Ross said, trying not to flinch at the pain in his son’s voice, or at how he’d felt at Justice jerking away from him. “I need you to be super-brave and hold this tight against your hand. Put it right here on the wound. Squeeze it tight in your fist.”
* * *
“Shh, baby, your daddy is just trying to bandage your hand.” Brielle rubbed Justice’s arm, trying to comfort him and trying not to look at Ross.
Would he please put his shirt back on?
Not that he could even if he wanted to. Not with it being in tatters and soaking up Justice’s blood.
Her son was bleeding, albeit a lot less at this point, and all she could think about was that Ross’s chiseled chest was beautiful.
What was wrong with her?
Sure, she’d dealt with children’s cuts and scrapes in the past and as an emergency room nurse she knew that Justice wasn’t in any real danger. But at this moment her son was hurt and she was distracted by a gorgeous display of man-flesh. Shame on her.
And what had been up with the look they’d exchanged moments before Justice had tripped?
When it came to Ross, she really was pathetic.
She hugged her son closer to her, kissed the top of his head and wished she could take his pain on herself rather than have him suffer even the tiniest amount.
“Help him hold this on the place on his hand. I think his knee has stopped bleeding because it hasn’t soaked through the material yet.” He gestured to where he’d wrapped the material round Justice’s knee and tied it in place using the T-shirt hem.
“I think you’re right,” she agreed, brushing her lips across Justice’s head again. “It’s gonna be okay, baby,” she assured him. “I promise. We’re going to take good care of you.”
He’d twisted in her lap and had his head buried against her chest and his hand tucked between them. He still cried but only a little.
“Justice, son, your mother is going to carry you to the car while I pack our stuff up super-quick,” Ross said, already gathering their supplies.
“Batman-quick?” Justice asked from between quivering lips.
“Faster,” Ross assured him, setting everything down in a pile and reaching for Brielle’s hand. “Here, let me help you to your feet.”
She could stand from a sitting position while holding Justice, but doing so was becoming more and more difficult the older he got. Thinking Ross deserved bonus points for being so considerate, she took his hand while holding securely to Justice with the other. Not that her son was going anywhere anyway. Not with the tight grip he had around her neck with his arms and her waist with his legs.
Her belly flip-flopped at the skin-to-skin contact of her hand gripped tightly in Ross’s firm grasp. The man exuded more electrical current than a power plant. Had to.
His fingers lingered longer than necessary, his gaze meeting hers, making her wonder what he felt when they touched. Was he bombarded with tiny zaps of excitement or drowned with memories? Or perhaps he felt nothing at all.
“I’ll take Justice to the car and get him in his seat.”
He still didn’t let go of her hand.
“I’ll meet you there,” he said, his voice soft, steady, full of promises she didn’t understand. Why did it sound as if he meant so much more than meeting her at the car?
She wiggled her fingers within his. His gaze dropped to their hands, as if he’d forgotten he held her. So much for her causing an electrical storm within him, the way he did her.
He let go and looked as if he was about to say something, but stopped, shook his head, and gathered up their gear.
Without another glance at him she headed towards the car with Justice. When she reached the vehicle, opened the back seat door and started to put him into his safety seat, Justice tightened his hold.
“No.”
“No? Baby, I have to put you into the car so we can get your knee and hand taken care of where Mommy works.”
Justice pulled his hand protectively close to his belly. “I don’t want to go.”
“We have to, sweetheart.”
“I don’t want us to leave my daddy. He migh
t not find us again.”
Brielle’s heart constricted at the sincerity and concern in her son’s voice, at his four-year-old logic, at what she’d deprived both Ross and her son of—each other. “Honey, we’re not going to leave your daddy. He’s just gathering our fishing gear so we can go fishing again some time. Together.”
Despite her cajoling, Justice wouldn’t let her go until Ross joined them.
“Everything okay?” he asked, eyeing them curiously as he popped the trunk with her key fob, which he’d stuck in his pocket after driving them to the lake.
“Fine,” she answered, not wanting to repeat what Justice had said. At least, not until later when she and Ross could talk in private.
They needed to talk. They had a lot to say to each other. She had a lot to say to him.
Ross didn’t look completely convinced, but he loaded the gear and put on a spare shirt he always carried in his hospital bag, which was stowed in her trunk, while she strapped a mostly co-operative Justice into his car seat.
Rather than get into the front seat beside Ross, she climbed into the back seat next to Justice so she could attend to him better should the bleeding worsen. Blood still hadn’t soaked through the makeshift bandage on his knee, but the material held in his hand was quite messy.
Ross didn’t say anything, just drove them to the hospital while she talked softly to Justice the entire ride, reassuring him about what would happen when they got to Mommy’s work.
When they got to the ER, Brielle went to get Justice out of his car seat.
“I’ll carry him in.”
Arguing with Ross would only cause another scene in front of Justice and, really, what would be the point?
Justice was already reaching for his father to get him anyway. The sight of Justice in Ross’s arms about undid her, making her legs feel weak, but she forced one foot in front of the other.
“Brielle? Dr. Lane?” Cindy’s eyes were huge as they took in Brielle’s bloodstained clothes and Justice wrapped around Ross. “What happened?”