by Ami Le Coeur
She grinned at me. “Close your eyes again. Good. Now tell me when you feel something.”
“There,” I said. “It feels like pins and needles. But it feels like something is crawling on my leg. OUCH.” My eyes flew open again. “What are you doing?”
This time she had a big grin. “Let me show you.”
She ran her fingers over the outside of my left calf. “That’s your pins and needles?”
“Yes.”
“And this?” She ran the back of her fingernail up my leg in a squiggly motion.
“Something crawling.”
She picked up a device that looked like a pencil from the counter next to her. “And this?”
“Ouch!” I said again as she pressed the point into my flesh. “That feels like a hot needle.”
“But you can see I’m not pressing hard. Here, you try it.” She handed me the pencil-like thing. I pressed the point into the flesh on my calf, almost dropping it when I got a strong sharp pinprick of pain.
“Really?” I said, astonished by the whole experience. “If it’s numb, why does that feel so sharp?”
“I suspect that your nerves aren’t ‘sleeping’ at all, but rather they’re firing all the time. At least in that area.” She set my leg back down, resting my heel on the chair’s support. “Which explains why you are hypersensitive when I apply a little pressure with a small object.”
“But why haven’t I noticed this before?” I asked, looking at my legs like they were some strange appendage I’d never seen before.
“When is the last time you stuck yourself with a needle? Or a pencil?” She smiled.
“Well, never. But I do scratch my leg sometimes.”
“But that gave you the crawly feeling. Because you engaged several nerve endings all at the same time, so it was more generalized.”
She was right, of course. It made sense. It also made me very excited. “So this is a good sign?”
“I think so. If you have time right now, I’d like to get you in for an MRI. We want a closer look at that injury. The most recent images we have are from right after your tumble from the wheelchair. We’ll want to check on your current condition and see how your healing may have progressed.”
“Sure,” I said, still a little stunned at what I’d just learned about my body, and tempted to stick myself again just to verify it. “My ride is in the waiting room. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Okay, let me go make arrangements and we’ll send you over with the referral forms. I’ll see you in the lobby.”
I wheeled myself out of the room and into the office area. Peggy held the waiting room door open for me and I greeted Thom with a big, “Woo Hoo!” throwing my arms into the air.
His startled eyes met mine, then softened into a smile. “Good news?”
I nodded, blinking away the tears threatening to pool up. “But first, I need another favor. They want me to get an MRI—right now. Can you take me?”
He laughed, that soft, sexy sound that turned me on every time I heard it. “I could be mean and hold out for special dispensation. After all, you have me booked for the publisher’s tomorrow. But,” his eyes softened again as he took my hand and brought it to his lips. “That really wouldn’t be fair now, would it?”
I couldn’t help it. The tears won. They spilled over, running down my cheeks. I wiped them away as I shook my head, more grateful than ever to have this sweet, funny, incredibly sexy man in my life.
The office window slid open. “Here’s your referral.” Peggy handed me a set of stapled papers, her eyes gliding to Thom and back to me. She grinned bigger. “Go to the office at this address and they’ll direct you from there.”
“Thank you. For everything.”
She gave me a little wink. “Be sure to take notes for my next interrogation. We’ll give you a call once the results come back.”
I wrinkled my nose at her. “I will. I’m sure I’ll set a world record by then, so bring cupcakes and balloons.”
She looked at Thom and I followed her eyes. He was looking at us both in confusion. “Do I really want to know?” he asked and Peggy and I burst out laughing again.
###
I was glad Thom came with me. He seemed as fascinated by my new discovery as I was, taking great pleasure in poking me unexpectedly and watching me yelp.
“Told you,” he said as he wheeled me into the office. “There’s no telling where you’ll be this time next year. You might even be running a marathon.”
I tried to laugh, but in my nervousness, it came out more like a snort. That set me off in a fit of giggles like a tipsy school girl. I felt high. Like I was floating along on a cloud. Thompson seemed to like it. He kept grinning at me, making idiotic comments and calling me a goofball several times.
It was fun, but I grew more serious when I handed my referral papers to the receptionist. My nerves seemed to jump to attention when they took me into the imaging room.
“Nice outfit, Miss Maria,” Thom said, referring to my hospital gown. “Convenient, too. We might need one of these for home.”
That made me flush—and not just my cheeks either. I’m sure he was just trying to take my mind off the procedure, and yes, it certainly did. But that kind of teasing was more than a bit unfair.
“Maybe I can arrange a private showing for you, later,” I said, lowering my voice and looking at him with promise in my eyes. Two could play at that game. I then shut up, his eyes momentarily startled as he visibly swallowed. I watched the slow raising and lowering of his Adam’s apple. I felt sexy and powerful when he squirmed in his seat.
“Troubles?” I asked, feeling a bit brazen as I allowed my eyes to scan down his body. Slowly taking him in. He shifted again and I leaned closer. “Do you know how much I want you right now?” I whispered, no longer wondering what it was about this man that brought out this unexpected side of me.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his nose not an inch from mine. “Yes. I do know. I can feel it radiating off of you in waves.”
“Miss Tilson.”
I startled, jumping at the sound of the tech’s voice. I’d been so lost in the little world that belonged only to me and Thom. I started to turn my chair and wheel myself to the door, when Thom stopped me. “I love you. No matter what that MRI says or doesn’t say.”
I didn’t know I needed to hear the words. That he loved me unconditionally. The hard knot in my stomach melted slightly.
“Thank you. I love you too.”
Then I wheeled to the door and managed to transfer myself, gown closed and dignity intact, to the chair that could safely enter a room containing the strong magnets.
I usually hated MRIs. The loud sounds. The absolute necessity of lying so still. But this time, it wasn’t so bad. Because this time, my thoughts were on my future. This time the machine held the promise of my life opening fully. The promise of a life with some kind of normalcy. And, regardless of the outcome, I carried with me the thoughts of Thom keeping me safe.
Chapter 13 – Thom
The smell of bacon woke me and I followed my nose to the kitchen. There she was, in one of those strappy little tank top nightgown things that drove me crazy, her hands busy flipping strips of sizzling meat while she hummed to some song playing through her earbuds.
Leaning quietly against the door frame, I just watched. Efficient movements that were still graceful. I laughed as she started pounding out a drum solo on the arms of her wheelchair. I recognized it—one of the best songs in the history of songs—In the Air Tonight.
At the end of the drum solo, she threw her hand up in the air and belted out the next line, her other hand using the spatula like a microphone. Where was my damn phone when I need it? I’d love to have this on video to play again and again. She’s so adorable. And sexy. And… totally embarrassed.
“Oh, hi. I’m… uh, well,” she stuttered as she pulled the earbuds from her ears. She looked down at the spatula and tossed it on the counter. “I didn’t think you’
d be up this early since, we… uh…”
“Fucked like rabbits last night?”
Her mouth dropped open and I laughed. I couldn’t have stopped myself from saying those words if a gun had been held to my head. She’s so beautiful when her face is all red and her eyes all big. Simply adorable.
“I’m teasing; couldn’t resist,” I told her and walked over to kiss her forehead, her nose and then her lips.
“Well, as long as we don’t reproduce like them, I’m completely fine with the rest.”
I pushed her dark hair back from her face and looked down into her beautiful eyes. “Reproduce, huh? I like the sound of that too.”
I felt her stiffen beneath my hands. I heard her breath stop going in and out. I saw her eyes grow wide with possibility, then confusion, and… fear.
“I’m sorry,” I began, back pedaling hard and fast. I stood up straight and walked to the coffee pot. Damn, that was stupid. We’d just said ‘I love you’ a few days ago. Now I’m talking babies and shit.
“No. Don’t be sorry. It just surprised me is all.”
I poured a cup of coffee and turned back to her, leaning against the counter. “I kinda surprised myself too, truth be told.” I took a long drink and cursed when I burned my lip. “You ever think about having kids?” I had to ask.
One side of her mouth lifted. “I used to think about it all the time. How many. Which sex. Names. But since…” she waved at her legs “…I won’t allow myself to think about the things I can’t do.”
Shit. Did the doctors tell her she couldn’t get pregnant? Carry a baby? Give birth? “Can’t?” I asked her to clarify.
“Well, not can’t-can’t,” she admitted. “It’s probably possible for me to get pregnant and carry a child. Have a C-section for the birth. I mean, it’s been done before with women in my… condition. I just never really… thought… anyone would…” she trailed off and lifted her somewhat sad, but shining eyes to mine.
I pulled a chair up in front of her in order to be eye to eye, and leaned in closer. “You never thought someone would want to watch your stomach grow with his child nestled inside? Never thought someone would want to sit beside you while you nursed his baby?”
I watched the emotions race across her face, flashing through her eyes. I took her hand. “I can’t imagine anything more beautiful than you being a mother, if that’s what you wanted.”
She swallowed. “What do you want?”
It was a good and horrible question all wrapped into one.
“Are you talking to my head or my heart?”
The word was a whisper. “Both.”
I sucked in air. “My heart wants a dozen.” I saw her eyes grow wide. “Or maybe two.”
“Two dozen?”
“No, just two.”
She looked relieved. “And what does your head say?”
You suck as a father.
You’re only a sperm donor.
You’re dangerous. Even your own daughter isn’t safe with you.
Baby Killer.
My jaw tightened as my head echoed with the words I’d heard for the past several years. Then a new voice came through…
I love you, Daddy.
You’re the best daddy in the world.
I feel safe when I’m with you.
My Daddy’s a HERO.
For the first time, I allowed the good to override the bad in my head. The harsh words receded into the background as I considered the possibility of believing something else might be true. Maybe they weren’t just the words of a little girl looking at the world with little girl eyes.
“My head is trying to convince me that having another child would be a mistake. That I can’t even take care of the one I have.”
Maria took both of my hands in hers. “The voices in our heads can be wicked. The worst enemy we could ever face. But you know that voice is only trying to keep you safe. It thinks that if it can keep you from taking a risk, it will keep you from being hurt.”
“Or hurting someone else,” I muttered.
“Is that what you think?” she asked gently.
“Sometimes. It’s just that—“
We both about jumped out of our skin when the smoke alarm went off and I was on my feet so fast that Maria’s chair rolled back a foot.
“Oh no, the biscuits!”
Sure enough, smoke was pouring out of the oven and the four blobs inside were black as soot. How we didn’t smell it, I don’t know. But we could smell it now.
Coughing and laughing, I rushed the burnt tray outside and then started opening windows throughout the house.
“Well, at least we still have bacon,” Maria said and stuffed a huge bite into her mouth.
I leaned down and kissed her, savoring the taste of bacon on her lips. “They say that everything goes good with bacon.”
I dropped to my knees in front of her and pushed her legs apart, raising them until her calves were on my shoulders. Her eyes dilated when I raised her nightgown to around her waist. Then I lowered my head and feasted.
###
I was still smiling as I walked into my attorney’s office later that afternoon after dropping Maria off to her appointment with the publisher. The house still reeked of burned biscuits and we’d ended up eating breakfast and lunch outside while spending the rest of the time in the bedroom.
Yes. Maybe we needed to burn stuff more often.
“T!”
I’d know that voice anywhere. My attorney. My army bud and one of my best friends, the esteemed attorney Rex Williams stood in the door of his office wearing an expensive three-piece suit.
“Damn it Rex, you clean up good.”
He did. A long way from the camo and sand streaked face of the desert. But his hand was still callused; his handshake still nice and tight. And he still had the same intelligence-filled eyes he’d had in days gone by when we were fighting side by side.
“Come on in. Hated I couldn’t get you in earlier, T. Just got back from the conference last night.”
I laughed. “Earlier? I just called you two days ago. I thought that was damned fast for a highfalutin lawyer.”
Rex went to his mini-fridge and pulled out two bottles of water, tossing one to me without asking if I was thirsty. Rex twisted the top and held the bottle up. “Not fast enough for the man who saved my ass.” Then he took a long drink.
Damn. Memories of that day slammed into me in an instant and I flashed to the memory of Rex lying in the sand, blood spraying out of his wounded leg. I’d had my men cover me and I’d dodged what felt like a thousand bullets to get to him. I’d been lucky to haul him over my shoulder and get us both behind cover.
That injury sent Rex home for good—he lost that leg just above the knee, but it hadn’t slowed him down. In fact, it seemed to have lit a fire under him. He’d fought bureaucratic red tape to get a proper prosthetic, the therapy he needed, and the follow-up care he deserved. Making his way through the delays and red tape had pissed him off and he went straight into law school with the pledge to help other veterans get on with their life.
I just wished he’d been out of law school by the time my divorce went down. I could have used someone on my side. Someone who understood the stress of returning home from combat, and of never being the same person who had gone away to fight. Maybe I wouldn’t have just rolled over to Rachel’s demands, wouldn’t have surrendered my daughter then. Maybe I wouldn’t have believed everything Rachel claimed and said.
Well, regardless of what had happened back then, I had Rex on my side now.
“What can I do for you, T? What brings you here today?”
I looked him straight in the eyes. “I want my daughter.”
He met my gaze. “It’s about damn time.”
Rex and I had stayed in touch over the years and I’d even shared the hell I’d gone through with Rachel, how tied my hands were with Emily. Rex had encouraged me to take Rachel back to court numerous times.
But I didn’t. I hadn’t been
ready.
I was ready now.
I gave him a step-by-step account of the past several years along with my fears of going to court and really losing Emily forever. I told him about Emily running away. About Maria and how strong her relationship was with my daughter.
“Bet Rachel loves that,” he scoffed and raised the water bottle to his lips again.
I snorted. “Yes. Rachel told me that I’m not allowed to have Emily around my “whore” again.”
“And…?”
“And I told her to kiss my ass.”
“Does Maria know?”
I shook my head. “No. I wanted to see if Rachel could legally forbid the contact before bringing it up or worrying her with it. There is an event, a charity event that Maria wants Emily to participate in with her. The event planner wants to highlight a book Maria and Em are working on together. I’ve been dancing around the approval thing—not knowing if I could say yes. Or no. Rex, I need to know what my options are.”
He leaned forward and tapped the mouse on his desk, bringing his computer to life. Then he shrugged out of his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. “Okay, T. Let’s get to work.”
Chapter 14 – Maria
“Hi,” I said to the woman sitting behind the desk. “Thank you so much for meeting with me, Miss Whitstone. I realize the only thing you know about me is that I’ve worked with Gregory, but I sincerely appreciate you being willing to meet and give me some advice.”
She laughed. “Please just call me Teresa. And, that’s very kind of you, but I’m only here to offer suggestions. I’m not a publishing agent. In fact, I have very little to do with traditional publishing.”
“Maybe that’s for the best,” I said. “We didn’t have much luck last time we met with a rep.”
She laughed again. “You aren’t telling me anything I don’t already know. That’s a big reason I do this consulting. Too many people have been burned by the publishing business.”
I nodded, watching her face for any hint of the kind of duplicity I’d seen previously. Thankfully it was absent. “I don’t doubt that’s true. So how can you help me?” I didn’t want to sound mercenary, but I didn’t want to be strung along by empty promises, either.