Bad Boys for Hire_Nick_Christmas Holiday

by Rachelle Ayala

  The older generation parted and let her through. She didn’t look him in the eye, but thumped her wheels over the threshold and turned to the porch area.

  She waited until the door closed before addressing him. “As you can tell, the cat’s out of the bag. Brianna ambushed my mother and stepmother in the women’s room while I was inside the handicapped stall, taking care of my business. I heard everything. First of all, is there a chance you are HIV positive?”

  “The immediate test came back negative, and I’m following up in three months.”

  Carol’s throat bobbed as she lifted her chin. “Did you use a condom when we were together in the shower? You came in rather suddenly.”

  “I put one on, yes.” Nick kneeled in front of her and tried to take her hand.

  She twisted out of his grip and averted her gaze. “This looks bad, real bad. They are calling you a whore and saying that the only reason I’m with you is because I can’t get another man.”

  “You know that’s not true, Care. Jason likes you, and I’m sure if you put yourself out there, many men will want to date you.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not, but with my family, I don’t know if any of this will ever blow over.” Carol’s shoulders heaved. “They look down on me already—feel sorry for me, act like every little bit of normalcy I have is somehow inspirational or something to be praised. Half the time, they speak to me like I’m a baby. ‘Oh, wow, Carol, you took a shower all by yourself.’ ‘You’re so inspirational. You got out of bed by yourself.’ ‘You pulled up your pants. You’re a big girl now.’ Well, not exactly, but you get the gist.”

  “What are they saying now?”

  “Nothing. But I can hear it in my mind. ‘Poor Carol. She’s finally trying to date and she ends up with a man who’s used to getting paid. Do you think she’s paying him for sex? Can she even feel it?’ That part, my stepmother actually said. ‘Why would he stay with her except for her money? Maybe she has an arrangement with him. He can sleep with other women as long as he shows up at events with her.’”

  “Stop.” Nick pressed his hand over Carol’s. “Stop right there. No one should ever think this about you. No one. If they do, they’re not real family. They don’t really see you the way I do. You’re precious and perfect. I would never sleep with anyone else, even at gunpoint. You already know you don’t have to pay me, and we both know you not only can feel, but you enjoy it immensely. You keep me interested, and I’m the lucky one to be with you. I’m not the least bit interested in your money, Carol. I’m only interested in you.”

  He tilted her chin and held his lips close to hers, waiting for her to close the gap.

  “Oh, Nick, I don’t know,” she gasped. “When I’m with you, I believe it all. We’re perfect together and I imagine us as equals. But when I’m with people who doubt—people who can’t believe you’re with me, I falter, and I’m not sure anymore.”

  “You can’t let other people influence you.” Sharp pains clawed at Nick’s heart. If Carol was so susceptible to other people’s influence, it meant that a part of her agreed with them. “You’re a strong woman. You have a good head on your shoulders.”

  “Maybe a good head, but a weak heart.” Her lips trembled. “Even before I was injured, I never felt love, never had a man who made me the center of his life. I am vulnerable, Nick. I could be fooling myself and making myself believe that all things are possible, especially with love, but the reality is, men look away from me when I’m out in public. They don’t flirt with me anymore, and they see me either with pity, or as an embarrassment. I don’t have guys beating down my door, willing to be inconvenienced by me.”

  “You have me.”

  “Yes, but you’re the only one.” Carol bit her lip and sniffed, her eyes watery. “I find myself wondering if I, too, had settled, knowing that I might not have another man interested in me.”

  Her words ripped a hole in Nick’s chest. Settled? She was settling with him? Because surely, if she were on the top of her form, she wouldn’t waste her time with a guy with his background.

  Either she couldn’t see her worth, or she didn’t love him for the right reasons, if at all.

  “I guarantee you have many men interested in you. Not just Jason, but anyone you’d open yourself to. You should have seen yourself tonight. Your speech was strong and inspiring. You were a winner, not to mention how gorgeous you looked. Even though you were in a chair, everyone in the room looked up to you as you talked about falling off the mountain, the depths of despair you were in during your recovery, and how taking risks with sports, whether surfing with your brother or skydiving or hand-cycling or waterskiing, all of it made you alive and confident and able to coach and motivate others who are similarly injured to achieve their dreams.”

  “That’s nice of you to say.” Carol’s voice remained flat. “But deep inside, maybe I don’t believe everything I said. Maybe it was just a front I put on to make the world believe I’m adapting, that I’m happy and content with my fate, that I’m okay—really, really okay.”

  “But you are okay. You’re not just adapting, you’re winning.” He repeated what she’d said to the crowd.

  “No, Nick. I’m not.” She put her hands on the pushrims of her wheelchair and moved away from him. “I’ll never be okay with not walking again. Every day, I rage and I fume and I curse and I scream. I hate the pain I get, nerve pain that sets my body on fire in areas where I supposedly cannot feel. My feet hurt. My calves hurt. It’s the cut nerves that are damaged and they scream and scream and scream. I hate the way my legs spasm, waking me up at night. I hate the catheter and the incontinence. I hate the infections. I hate the pressure sores. I hate the medications I have to take, the blood thinners because I have a risk for blood clots, and the fact that my life is one giant struggle.”

  Nick had no words for her. What could he say? That she was doing well compared to Jason? That she still had a lot of things going for her: family, friends, a job, a bright future. Those were all true, but not what she needed to hear.

  He cupped her face and caught a tear rolling down her cheek. “I can’t wrap up a pebble, tie it with a bow and tell you it’s a diamond. I can’t tell you it’s all good, or that it happened for a reason. But I can tell you that I’d rather experience being with you through all your pain and difficulties, than being without you.”

  She put her hand over his and shuddered. “You’re too good to be true. But I have to be sure, Nick, that you are who I really want—not because you’re so good to me, and you say and do all the things I need you to do—not because you feed my ego and you stroke my passions. But because I want you, Nick Wolff, with all your faults and the ways you tick me off.”

  “And you don’t know that right now?”

  “No, I don’t,” she whispered. “When my family shamed me, I realized that I, too, would have never considered dating a male slut—whether he got paid or not doesn’t matter. I told you I liked good guys. That’s still true.”

  “In other words, I’m not good enough for you.” Nick pushed himself to his feet and looked down at her. “You compromised because of your chair.”

  “No, that’s not it. I just don’t know who I am anymore.” She grasped his hands, but he stepped back, shaking her off.

  “I get it. I do. A walking Carol Cassidy wouldn’t have given me a second look.” His heart splintered and tore, bleeding dry of hope. He’d lost. It had never been about him, but about how much he’d pleased her. She was right. He was insecure and he’d always tried too hard, whether it was to make money, or in Carol’s case, to make her love him.

  “Nick? Will we remain friends?” Carol reached for him, but he was already stepping off the porch.

  He didn’t answer her, because there was no need. Asking him to be a friend was a body slam to the dirt. She still wanted the services he provided, but she didn’t want him, the man with a heart full of love.

  Forty

  Christmas Eve dawned gray and dreary. The fog was thick o
ver the bay, but even though Nick didn’t feel like getting out of bed, he put on his running shoes, a pair of sweat pants, and a hoodie and hit the streets.

  He had a good pair of legs. Strong arms. And a beating heart. And pain that screamed in every cell of his body.

  He’d returned home late the night before and had gone straight to his room. Heather and Sam had retired for the night already, and Sam had a shift today.

  Nick ran along a trail that led through the wealthy community of Atherton, past giant mansions and a polo club. The fog hung low, which was just the way he liked it, and he passed several people out with their dogs.

  Carol had hurt him deeply—wounded him. He wasn’t even sure if she knew how much she’d hurt him, implying that if she wasn’t in a wheelchair she might not have chosen him.

  Maybe she would have chosen Jason, or maybe she already had, and Jason had rejected her. Jason and Marisa had hinted they’d be his friends if anything happened. Had they known ahead of time what Carol was going to do?

  Or did Brianna have something to do with Carol’s change of heart?

  He was past jealousy now. He’d done all he could to show her how good he was to her. She’d said she liked good guys, but she pegged him a bad boy because of his scandals. There was nothing he could do now, but to let her go. If she truly loved him, as he felt she did, she would have to come to terms that whether she was walking or in a wheelchair, whether she was rich or poor, whether she was healthy or sick, that he was the one and only man she wanted. He couldn’t make that choice for her.

  It had started to drizzle, light, wispy shivers of rain, and Nick tugged the hoodie tighter around his face. He lengthened his stride and sprinted down the road. No sidewalks bordered the asphalt and large hedges lined some of the properties.

  He heard the swish of tires on the wet road bearing down on him and the blaring of a horn. A truck was passing on the opposite side of the road, crowding the narrow lane.

  Whether he jumped or was hit, he wasn’t sure, but he landed headfirst into a row of hedges.

  The car pulled to a stop and a woman stumbled out. She was bent double, her hands on her knees, and crying out in pain.

  “Are you hurt? Are you okay?” she shouted as she collapsed to her knees, her hugely pregnant belly almost touching the ground.

  Nick patted his body and reached for her. “I’m okay, but you don’t look so good.”

  “The baby’s coming,” she moaned, holding her belly.

  “Let me drive you to the hospital.” Nick grabbed her arm.

  “No, it’s too late.” She moaned as another contraction gripped her entire body. “Uh, uh, uh, it’s burning down there, like it’s ripping me to pieces.”

  “Everything’s going to be okay. I promise you.” Nick dragged her to a more private location behind the hedges. “Do you have blankets in the car?”

  “No, there’s no time.” She panted and gasped, trying to lower the waistband of her maternity pants.

  Nick swept the hoodie off his back and placed it on the pine needles and damp leaves.

  “Hold onto me.” He bent to her level and when she put her arms around his neck, he picked up her behind and placed it on the hoodie.

  Before he knew it, he’d removed her shoes, lowered her pants and covered her nakedness with his T-shirt.

  “Ooooohhh!” the woman screamed, her face contorting with pain.

  “You’re going to be fine. You’re doing great.” Nick held one of her hands while he rubbed her thigh, trying to comfort her.

  “I don’t know if I can survive,” she said in between contractions. “Each contraction is worse than the last.”

  “You’ll be fine. You can do it,” he said, even though flashbacks of that other delivery had his heart slamming into his rib cage. The other baby hadn’t been breathing, and Nick had failed to revive it. The other baby’s head kept popping almost out and then getting sucked back in.

  “Can you see her? Is she okay?” The woman cried out in pain.

  “I can see the top of her head. She’s got hair,” Nick said, encouraging her. “One more push, go for it.”

  “I’m trying!!!” she yelled. “Owww!!!”

  The head was almost out, but the baby was stuck, going back in. It was just like the other time. He couldn’t let this baby die. He had to do something.

  He cupped the top of the baby’s head and spread the woman’s opening, stretching her. “Come on, almost there. Almost.”

  The top of the head emerged, and the woman lay there, panting, clearly exhausted. “I don’t know if I can go on. I can’t push, I feel so weak.”

  “Don’t worry, your body knows what it’s doing. On the next push, give it all you have.”

  “I ammm!!!” Another contraction hit, and the head was almost out, yet something was holding it back.

  It was just like the other time. Now he remembered. The umbilical cord had been wrapped around the baby’s neck, and he was hung during labor. Everyone had told him it wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t a doctor or nurse. He wouldn’t have known what to do.

  “Wait, wait, relax,” Nick rubbed the woman’s thigh. “You’re almost there, but I don’t want you to push.”

  “I don’t think I can,” she wailed.

  The baby was face down so, he felt under the baby’s face, sticking his finger below the chin and pulling it up. Sure enough, thick cords were looped around the baby’s neck.

  “Don’t push, hold it, hold, even if you’re having a contraction, breathe through it,” Nick said. “I’ve got to unwrap the cord around her neck.”

  “Oh, no. Do you think? Is she okay?”

  “I think so. Just hold on.” He eased the cord over the baby’s face and felt around her neck, making sure there were no other loops. “I think she’s ready to be born.”

  Freed of her cord, the baby slipped out of the birth canal and landed in Nick’s hands. She flailed her arms and opened her mouth, crying and kicking.

  “It’s a girl!” Nick laughed. He lifted his T-shirt and placed the baby on her mother’s belly, then covered her so she’d be warm.

  A siren walloped and a police cruiser pulled over.

  “What do we have here?” one of the officers jumped from the passenger side with his gun drawn. “You there, get up and put your hands up.”

  Slowly, Nick raised his hands, then realized they were covered with blood.

  The second officer came around the car. “Nick, what the heck?”

  It was Sam.

  “Put that gun down,” the woman shouted. “This man saved my baby’s life.”

  Sam tilted his head at his partner. “That’s my brother.”

  “Okay …” the partner lowered his gun. “But the caller said there was a rape in progress.”

  “I delivered her baby,” Nick explained. “She’s right under the T-shirt, and uh, don’t look between her legs, but I think the afterbirth’s coming now.”

  Of course, everyone looked. The officer with the gun rolled his eyes back, his head swirled in a circle and he collapsed like a rag doll.

  Sam chuckled and clapped Nick’s back. “You must admit this looks bad. Half naked man, bloody hands, crouched over a woman with her pants down. You cut the cord yet?”

  “Nope, call in the paramedics and give me your first aid kit. I want to do the honors.” Nick wiped his hands with a wet wipe his brother offered him as he called in for an ambulance to take the mother and baby to the hospital.

  “Thank you, young man.” The woman sat up partially, holding her baby as Nick cut the cord. “What is your name?”

  “Nick Wolff. She’s a beautiful baby.” Nick clamped the umbilical cord and tickled the baby’s tummy. “I’m so glad I was at the right place at the right time to help you.”

  “She would have died if you hadn’t untangled her cord,” the woman said. “I’m going to name her Nicole Eve, because she was born on Christmas Eve and saved by her guardian angel, Nick Wolff.”

  “Ahhh … that i
s awfully kind of you.” Nick gave the woman’s hand a squeeze.

  “I’m Deborah Diamond, by the way. An attorney, but don’t let that scare you. You look kind of familiar, by the way. It’s your eyes. And your name sounds familiar.” Deborah studied him intently. “I heard it last night. Were you at the Redwood Hills Country Club?”

  “Why, yes, I was the Santa Claus who handed out the presents.”

  “Well, nice to meet you, Saint Nick.” Deborah sat up straighter. She flipped up her bra and tucked little Nicole to her breast. “I’m the attorney for Wheelympics, the charity that was being honored last night. Now that I think about it, your name was brought up for a project. I wasn’t paying much attention, but now, you’ve made a big impression on me. I’m going to recommend you for it.”

  “Why, thanks. I’m looking for a job.”

  “Oh, this isn’t a job job, but more of a publicity tour. I’ll have my people get in touch with you. Here, hold little Nikki while I get out my phone.”

  Nick cradled the tiny infant in his big hands, and the baby stared at him with her big, blue eyes. “I’m afraid she’s going to think I’m her daddy.”

  “If her daddy wasn’t so busy traveling, I wouldn’t have been driving myself to the hospital,” Deborah said. “I’m so lucky I almost ran you off the road.”

  “You actually did run me off the road.” Nick chuckled. “But I’m glad I could help.”

  “You did more than help. You were great at calming me down and taking charge at the same time. That’s a talent not many people have.”

  “Ah, you’re going to give me a big head.”

  “Well deserved.” She smiled and winked. “Give me your phone number and I’ll send you a text.”

  After they exchanged numbers, the ambulance arrived. The paramedics brought over a stretcher and Nick had to relinquish little Nikki back to her mother. She asked the paramedics to take a picture of her, Nick, and the baby. After they loaded Deborah onto the gurney, she waved little Nikki’s hand. “Bye, Saint Nick. I’ll never forget what you did for us this Christmas Eve.”