by Skye Turner
“You sure you don’t want a chaser with that?”
He grunts. “No. I’m good.” And pours two more, back to back.
I’m getting concerned. Cruz doesn’t drink like this. “What’s wrong, man? What’s up?”
He looks at me and I can’t decipher the look in his eyes, but I know him well enough to be alarmed. He takes another shot and stares at the wall.
That’s three shots in less than two minutes. What the hell?
“I had a message on my machine today when I got home.”
Who would be calling him and why would it upset him this much?! I ask, “And? Who was it?”
He looks at me. His face is drawn tight and his eyes are wild. “The prison. It seems my sperm donor is up for parole again in about six weeks and he has a really good chance of getting out this time.”
I frown. Now it’s making sense. “Really? I thought he had time added onto his sentence?”
Cruz laughs harshly. “He did. The forcible rape, assault and battery, and theft were the original sentence. He beat that guard a few years ago and had time added on. Now he’s a model prisoner. He found Jesus. He’s a mentor. So, he can get out.”
He looks at me and I can see the disgust and fear on his face. “I’m sorry, man.”
He chuckles harshly and slams another shot back. He coughs and I have to hit his back. Slumping against the back of the couch, he mumbles, “I’ma stay here tonight, ok?”
Nodding, I feel rage that he’s dealing with this again. “Of course, man. There are two rooms down here and Clove’s room is empty upstairs. You aren’t driving.”
He mumbles out, “I’d never drive like this. I’ma stay right here.”
I nod. “Ok, Cruz. You want the bed pulled out?
He laughs. “No. I’m fine like this.”
We sit in silence for a bit. He takes a few more shots. He’s going to be sick as shit tomorrow. I nurse my beer and check my phone. I have a text. How did I miss that?!
I check it.
“Melonie:
I got home safely. Sweet dreams, Dade.”
I chuckle. She texted me that she got home. I wonder how close to me she is?!
Cruz is peeping at me through his lids. “Who’s that? Why are you grinning?”
I laugh and shrug. “It’s Melonie.”
His brows raise. “Dr. Bird, Melonie?”
Nodding, I say, “Yup.”
That gets a chuckle. “Well, alrighty then. Tell me why you wanted to hang out. I’m sorry I hit you with my shit.”
“It’s cool, man. I’m here whenever you want to talk, you know that. Are you ok?”
He grimaces. “No, not really. I’m worried and pissed. I’m worried about my mom. How can they let a man that is clearly evil enough to rape a twenty year old who works for him, savagely beat her, rob her, and leave her there, alone, in the parking lot out of prison?! The same asshole beats a prison guard and puts him in the hospital for two weeks. And now… now, he’s found Jesus and spewing a load of bullshit, so he can get out. I’m not buying it. He can rot in there. And if he does get out, he better make damn sure he never goes near my momma!”
My chest hurts at the rage and pain in Cruz’s voice. I don’t understand this. I don’t have the words. I wish I did, but I don’t know what to say. “I don’t know. I don’t understand evil. I’ve never understood it.”
He nods. “I wasn’t asking you. You’re not He-Man, Master of the Universe, though we treat you like you are sometimes.” He chuckles. “You’re just a good man and an awesome friend.” He’s slurring some. “Did Clove give you the hot doctors’s number?”
I laugh. “No and I am too the mother fucking ‘Master of the Universe!’ Marvel should make a comic of me. The “Dade-a-Nator. Captain Dade. The Dade.”
Cruz is looking at me and then he throws his head back and full on laughs. “You are nuts. That’s it. From now on, you’re the Dade-a-Nator. I’m making t-shirts. And He-Man is Mattel, not Marvel.”
Laughing, I throw a pillow at him. He catches it and slips it behind his head. “Seriously, what happened with Melonie?”
I purse my lips and think. “I ran into her at George’s tonight. She was with her parents. She tried to cut and run when she recognized me. I followed her and asked her to talk to me. She agreed eventually and I gave her my number. I’m calling her tomorrow and going to see if we can figure this out.”
He looks at me. “Do you want to date her?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. I want to figure it out.”
He nods. “You do that. I’m drunk. I need to go to sleep. Thanks for letting me unload on you.”
“Anytime, Cruz. You know that. I love you, man. Anytime you need me, I’m here.”
He smiles slightly, “I know.”
He’s snoring within seconds.
For Cruz to get drunk, he’s pretty torn up over this situation. He isn’t a huge drinker. He never gets drunk. He’s levelheaded and calm at all times. Sometimes, I worry about him. I hope this shit gets straight and that the bastard doesn’t get out. If he does though, we’ll all be here for Cruz. He’s family.
I turn off the light and head upstairs to my room, turning off more lights as I pass through the house. This place is four thousand square feet. It’s old, but I’ve put a lot of work and money into it and it’s been restored to its former glory. I like to think that the original owners would be pleased with the work and my attention to detail. I’ve tried to keep or restore everything to as close to the original as possible.
Once again, I think about what a treasure my house is. I love it. It’s going to be very empty in a few weeks though when Clove and Liam move out and it’s just me. Four thousand feet is a lot of house for one person.
When I bought it six years ago, it was in terrible condition. It had been rented by college students for about ten years and they just abused it. I bought it and started restoring it one room at a time. It’s fully restored now and I killed it if I do say so. I have six bedrooms, a media room, a huge kitchen, a formal dining room, a breakfast room, a sun room, three and a half bathrooms, a breakfast nook, a butler’s kitchen, a mud room and a wrap-around porch. I had a landscaping company come in and install a patio garden and a pergola and hot tub. My house is amazing, I’m damn proud of it. Most of the time everyone hangs out here, too. It’s kind of Bayou Stix Central along with Jude’s wife’s coffee shop/bakery, Java and Sweeties. We’re a great close knit group, only everyone is pairing off now and it’s just going to be me… alone. In this huge house.
On St. John, I had entertained the idea of asking Rayne to visit me here and seeing if what we had on the island could be transferred to the real world. I thought that was over and done with when I couldn’t find her. Then, seeing her at the party for Rock With Me, I was floored. I’d been searching for her everywhere and then, there she was.
She was so angry with me. I was angry, too. Then I found out that the woman I’d been searching high and low for was right here the entire time. She was my sister’s doctor. And the name she gave me on St. John wasn’t even her real name. It was too much and I blew up. I could see that I was hurting her, but I was so enraged and hurt myself that I didn’t care.
Seeing her tonight, at George’s… I can’t help but think she was there for a reason and that maybe we’re supposed to figure this thing out.
As I lie in my bed in my shorts with the fan humming over me, I think about everything we’ve already had and get a little excited over what could be a very real possibility with Melonie.
I guess tomorrow is the start of the journey to figuring this shit out. I’m ready.
I fall asleep with blonde hair, full lips, and tanned skin on my mind.
Chapter Eight
Melonie
Dear God today has been a long day! My C-section ended up not being easy. The patient bled a lot and the baby went into distress. It was a tense and nerve-wracking delivery. I had clinic after the crazy morning, and I’m just about ready to lea
ve the hospital or the day. I just have to check on mommy and the new addition again. Both are doing very well now and are resting comfortably. Her husband is asleep on the couch and I smile with her as I take the last of her vitals and make certain she’s not bleeding anymore. She isn’t.
She smiles over at me tiredly. “Sorry doc for giving you a rough morning.”
I smile back, “It’s ok. Part of the job. I’m just glad that you and the baby are ok. She’s a gorgeous baby. You’re very blessed.” I say quietly as I look into the bassinet by her bed with the sleeping newborn and then back at her husband.
“Do you have a family at home? Weren’t you supposed to get married? I’m sorry if that’s too personal. I’m blaming the drugs,” she says sheepishly.
I chuckle. “I was engaged. I’m not now. It was a mutual decision and he’s a good man. He’s just not the man for me and I wasn’t the woman for him. It’s just me. Well, and my cat.” I smile at her.
She reaches over. “You’ll find the someone you’re supposed to be with.” She glances at her sleeping husband and her face lights up. “He and I were friends our whole lives. We dated other people growing up. We were always there for each other and never realized we loved each other that way. We went to the same college and still didn’t see what was clear to everyone else. One night, we got drunk and ended up sleeping together. It was so natural and right. We’ve been together ever since. He’s my Jack.”
I look at her in confusion. “Your Jack?!”
Her cheeks flush and she laughs so loudly it wakes the sleeping infant and she starts her mewling cries. Leaning down, I lift her and she starts rooting on my chest. Chuckling, I hand her to her momma. “I don’t have what she’s wanting.”
She smiles and touches the baby’s downy head, before nestling her to her breast. As the infant feeds, she kisses the top of her head and looks over at the couch. Her husband is rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He hops up and exclaims, “Do you need anything, hunny? Is there something you need me to do?”
She blows him a kiss and says, “No, baby, I’m fine. She was just hungry.” Then she looks to me and says, “My Jack. I’m his Rose. No matter what, we’re each other’s forever loves.”
My eyes mist as I realize what she’s saying. I love that damn movie. I nod as I close her chart. “I’m going to head out. You try to get some sleep and send the baby to the nursery if you need to. Rest is important after a C-section. Stay hydrated. Press the call button if you need pain meds. I’ll check on you tomorrow.” Smiling at the beautiful new family, I swallow. “Good night.” They murmur goodnight, though their attention is on their precious bundle and I ease out the door.
I’d love to have that someday.
I sign two more charts and head to my car. I need a shower and a glass of wine. Checking my phone, I see that it’s 3:46pm. It’s too early for wine, but I do want to stop and grab some food. Cooking is not on the menu for tonight.
As I pull into my apartment not far from the hospital, my phone buzzes. I wait to park in my spot before checking it.
“Dade:
It’s 4pm.”
I check the time. It’s 4:02. I laugh. Has he been watching the clock!? My heart rate increases at the thought. Rolling my shoulders, I tell myself not to read too much into it. I text back.
“Melonie:
It is.”
I wait for a reply. None comes. Sighing, I grab my bags and head to my first floor apartment. I enjoy my complex. They’re quiet, luxury units. Mine came fully furnished, so I didn’t have to add much. A few personal touches here and there have gone a long way. It’s close to both hospitals and is in the heart of town. Traffic is horrid most days, but then again, traffic always sucks here, yet I love this city.
The complex is gated, so I feel safe. There’s a guard on duty twenty-four hours. It’s landscaped and houses four different buildings. My building mostly consists of professional types and a few retired couples. There are two pools, a gym, and a spa on site. A walking trail is also around the perimeter, but you are still blocked from prying eyes. We’re in the city, but other than the street noise, from inside, you can’t tell.
As I’m lugging my purse, briefcase, and grocery bags into the apartment, my phone chimes in my purse. I kick off my heels before heading into the spacious kitchen and laying the bags on the counter. When my hands are free, I grab the phone.
It’s Dade.
“Dade:
Can I take you out to dinner tonight?”
I contemplate it before deciding I’m too exhausted. I was on my feet for almost ten hours today. If he really wants to talk, he can come here. I text him back.
“Melonie:
I’m beat honestly. It was a long day. I grabbed a few things on the way home. Would you like to come over? To talk?”
Before I can chicken out, I send it. As I wait for him to reply, I unpack the bags and set a bottle of wine in the freezer to chill rapidly. If Dade is coming over, I’m going to need this wine.
After ten minutes, he hasn’t responded, so I decide to take a shower to wash off the day’s grime and try to wake myself up a bit.
I shower for a good twenty minutes, just letting the pulsing showerhead beat on my shoulder blades. I never realized that delivering babies was such a labor intensive job. It’s stressful and it also requires a steady hand and some muscle at times. I’m so glad I work out a little. Well, Zumba counts, right?!
I’m rinsing the last of the suds off of my body when I hear the ping of a new message over the water. Taking my time and trying not to allow myself to rush, I wring out my hair and wrap the towel around my body. As I step out of the shower, I glance at the phone.
Do not do it, Melonie! Dry yourself off and get dressed, then do your normal routine. Do NOT grab that damn phone. You are an adult, not a fifteen year old. Don’t let that man make you a crazy person.
Ha, yeah ok. You are a crazy person. You had insane, wild, out of character sex with a stranger on a tropical island. The stranger is a rock star. He’s freaking famous! And now, you can’t stop thinking about him. You haven’t been able to think rationally since the second you saw him. The first second!
I am not going to grab the phone. I’m not.
I manage to get dressed in comfy yoga pants and a tank top and pile my hair messily on top of my head before I swipe the phone and read the message.
“Dade:
Are you sure? You want me to come to your house? You’re ok with that?”
I laugh.
Am I ok with that?! Seriously? Um, no, not really. You are famous. Like fucking famous man and I am not. I am a well-respected doctor, but I am Baton Rouge and you are like Los Angeles. We are not on the same plane. However, for some insane reason you seem interested in me even after all of the craziness of the past few months, so I am just crazy enough to want to see if what was between us on an exotic island is still here in the middle of Baton Rouge. Ha, screw it.
I stop my hands from shaking and type a reply.
“Melonie:
Yes, I’m sure. I have food if you’re hungry. I didn’t eat today, so I grabbed a few things on the way home. Don’t expect anything fancy, though.”
I send it and head to the kitchen to heat up the food I picked up at Albertson’s. As I mess around in the kitchen, I plug my phone into my surround sound and turn on Spotify. I didn’t know who Dade was, because I don’t listen to rock. I’m a country girl. I’d heard of Bayou Stix in passing, but I had never heard a song. That has since been rectified, but I still “mainly” listen to country.
The new Luke Bryan song comes on and I dance around the kitchen as I prepare the meal. Luke Bryan is my dream man… or so I thought. Dade looks nothing like Luke Bryan. Shaking my head at the ridiculous direction of my thoughts, I laugh and mutter to myself, “Melonie Bird, you have issues!” and sing along at the top of my voice.
As I put the sautéed green beans and grilled salmon into the oven to reheat, my phone goes off again.
; “Dade:
I could eat. What’s your address and when do you want me to come over?”
Chuckling, I pick up the phone and call him. I’m not a big phone person, but if we’re going to have a conversation, I’m not typing all that shit.
The phone rings and I twirl a loose piece of hair as I wait for him to answer. It rings twice.
“Hey. You called me?!”
I chuckle. “I did. I hate typing on my phone. The small keys make me insane. If I have a lot to say, I prefer to talk. It’s quicker.”
He laughs. “Ok, then. Where do you live and when is a good time to come by?”
“I live off of Perkins.” I give him the directions. “I’ll buzz the gate and let them know you’re coming. You can come anytime. I have the food heating now, but no rush. I’m just here winding down after my day.”
He says, “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Brush your teeth.” He hangs up.
What the hell? Brush my teeth? What does that mean? Oh… Oh, does that mean what I think it means? The last time we talked it was not at all romantic and the time before that he kissed me breathless, but then told me to have a nice life. Does he think he’s coming over to hook up?
Do I want that?
My body hums in answer. I tell it to shut up. But, I go brush my teeth.
My nerves are shot as I wait for him to get here. I somehow remember to call down to the gate and let them know to expect him. Then I run around the apartment and straighten up. It doesn’t take much; I’m a little OCD about cleanliness and order. But I straighten the pillows and throw across the back of the couch and put the heels I kicked off when I got home into my closet.
Taking a look around, I try to see it as I think he would. It’s nice. Rich fabrics and plush carpet. I personally don’t like carpet, but since I’m renting and I have a housekeeper come in twice a week, I don’t really care.
The only thing I dislike is that Peanut is a long hair cat and she sheds. As if she hears my thoughts, she walks into the living room and bumps my leg before walking to the kitchen and stopping at the door. She looks back to make sure I’m watching her. Then, she meows… loudly.