When She Remembers

by Hope Jones

  He took me in the elevator where we rode to the ICU floor and down to the last room. My breath caught at the first glimpse of my wife since seeing her in a pool of her own blood. She looked so small in the large bed, all kind of wires and IVs hooked to her. She was more pale than normal, and I figured it was from the blood loss.

  “I’ll give you two a moment,” the doctor said, closing the door behind him softly.

  Grabbing the chair, I scooted it as close to the bed as the machines would allow and sat down. I took Henley’s cold hand in mine and squeezed, resting my forehead against it.

  I sat in silence, relishing the feeling of having her still alive next to me.

  “God, you can be so stupid sometimes,” I mumbled, kissing her hand.

  A throat cleared and my wife said in a raspy voice, “I’ll have you know; I wasn’t stupid.”

  My head snapped up to find her looking down at me with sleepy eyes and a content smile.

  “I think we should agree to disagree on this one, baby,” I told her, laughing even if I wanted to cry from relief.

  “You would have done the same thing in that situation if it were me you were protecting,” she pointed out, taking her hand out of mine and rubbing my cheek.

  “I’m your husband, it’s my job to protect you,” I noted.

  “And I love you for it, but this is my mom we’re talking about here. I wasn’t going to let Lacey just shoot her.”

  I grunted but left the subject alone because she wasn’t altogether wrong. I don’t think she should have thrown herself in the line of fire, but I understand why she did it. I would do the same thing for her. Hell, I would have done the same thing for Margaret. Margaret didn’t deserve to die for choices that were forced on her.

  I stood, caging her face in between my arms. “Can you make me a promise?” I whispered, brushing her hair away.

  “Anything, honey,” she whispered back, a cute little scrunch to her nose.

  “Try not to get yourself killed anymore.” I smirked, kissing her lips lightly so I didn’t cause her pain.

  Epilogue

  Henley

  PICKING UP THE PLATTERS, I brought them to the dining room and lit the two candles in the middle of the huge table.

  “Excuse me.” A throat cleared from behind me and I turned to see my handsome husband leaning against the doorjamb staring at me.

  “Can I help you?” I smarted back, moving to him.

  “Yeah, you can start by not carrying anything too heavy,” he replied, wrapping his arm around my waist and carefully dragging me to him.

  “It was rolls and peas,” I informed him.

  “Too heavy. He shook his head at me, and I rolled my eyes and came to my toes to give him a kiss.

  It was Christmas Eve and we were having our family over for dinner and tree decorating. Because of the injuries I suffered, I had to stay in the hospital until after Thanksgiving and couldn’t decorate the tree and house the day after.

  Tuesday, Sam, Mom, Graham and I decided to wait until I was moving around better before we did the decorating.

  The first week and a half after getting out of the hospital, I was still extremely sore and tired from the pain medications the doctor had me on. About three days before Christmas Eve, I told our family that we would still be doing Christmas here and we’d decorate the tree when they came for dinner tonight. The ornament I had special ordered arrived yesterday and I couldn’t wait to see my mom’s reaction to it.

  Graham wasn’t happy with me cooking all day long, so he insisted I sit at the counter and watch him do it. I was feeling much better and walking and bending were much easier than it was even last week.

  I complied with his demands for an hour before I started cooking, ignoring his grumbling. The doctor told me I was fine to do something like cooking, just not picking up anything over ten pounds. Graham wasn’t happy, saying I hadn’t had enough time to recover and the doctor assured him I was fine.

  Because the doctor gave me the all clear, Graham couldn’t argue too much about me helping and doing some of the cooking. He grumbled throughout the kitchen, giving me dirty looks and rewards when I would sit down for a breather.

  I believed Graham would be happy if he could dote on me for the rest of our lives. It was too bad he married a woman that couldn’t stand being taken care of.

  “Would you like to grab the ham since that is too heavy for me to carry?”

  Graham narrowed his eyes but left to grab the ham and put it in the middle of the nice spread I had on the table.

  The first knock came at the door and I smiled, wiping my hands on my apron before opening the door to see Tuesday, Sam, and Tarryn waiting. I took all their coats, hung them up and bent to squeeze Tarryn as hard as I could.

  “Auntie Hen!” she squealed. “Stop!”

  “Never,” I joked, kissing the top of her beautiful strawberry-blond hair and letting her run through the house, away from me, giggling.

  I pulled Tuesday into a hug next, even though she barely touched me back. Everyone treated me like I was made of glass.

  “You know you can hug me back,” I pointed out.

  Our embrace got a little tighter, but not much. I shook my head at her but moved on to Sam, wrapping both arms around his waist. It hurt to move my right arm high, so I was resigned to giving hugs around people’s waists. I couldn’t complain though. A little shoulder and chest pain was better than being dead.

  After getting out of the hospital, Graham told me that Sam was the one who saved my life and I found a new appreciation for my best friend’s husband. Graham told me if it weren’t for Sam, I would have been dead before I even got in the ambulance that day.

  Since then, Sam and I had been a little tighter than before.

  Leaning up, I gave him a kiss on his cheek, smiling and trying to keep the tears from spilling out of my eyes. He gave my neck a squeeze and moved into the house. Starting to shut the door, I saw my mom’s car pulling up the gravel driveway.

  “Seriously, honey, when are we getting the driveway paved? It’s gonna start messing the cars up,” I yelled to Graham, hoping he could hear me wherever he was at in the house.

  I didn’t get a response, so I assumed he didn’t hear me.

  Stubborn man, I thought while rolling my eyes.

  Mom got out of her car and walked up the steps to the front door, holding onto the railing so she didn’t slip on the inch of snow that covered it.

  We didn’t get snow very often in South Carolina, so when it snowed, we never complained and always enjoyed it. If I hadn’t just had major surgery a month ago, I would have begged Graham to go outside and make a snowman with me.

  Mom came in, taking her coat off and hanging it up on the coat rack before leaning in and hugging me softly.

  Again, I was not made of glass. I wasn’t going to break from a hug.

  Mom pulled away, still holding onto my shoulders and gave me a once-over. Anytime she saw me since I was shot, she gave me a concerned, guilt-ridden look. I tried getting her to stop, but she never did, despite saying she would eventually get over everything.

  I didn’t think she would ever get over it. How could she?

  She was forced into giving her daughter up for adoption, only to find out that her daughter lived a terrible life. Mom not only felt guilt for Lacey, but for me. She hated that Lacey had shot me and almost ended my life. Had the bullet been two inches to the left, I would have been dead instantly.

  I tried convincing Mom to go see my therapist, but she refused, telling me she would handle it. I never believed her but hoped she would come around on her own time when she realized she needed help healing.

  Shutting the front door, I moved into the house and walked into the formal dining room. Graham was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked down at me, scooped me up and tucked me into his side. My arm went around his waist and squeezed, looking at my family and feeling a sense of peace I had never had before.

&
nbsp; This was bliss.

  ***

  A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER, we had the majority of the decorations on the tree in the living room, except for a couple and one special one. I was nervous to see Graham’s reaction to the ornament.

  “Honey, there’s a box on the table behind us. It’s an ornament. Could you open the box and hang the ornament up, please?” I asked Graham, rubbing my nervous hands together then trapping them between my knees so he couldn’t see them shaking.

  He jumped at the chance to do something for once, instead of me trying to do it all.

  Like I said, he’d love to dote on me all the time.

  Graham tore into the box, pulling the ornament out and to my disappointment not even reading it. He had to read it without me telling him to or the shock value wouldn’t be there. Graham moved to the tree, holding the string up with one hand and the ornament in the other.

  After putting it on the tree, he looked at it with his head cocked to the side. He had his back to me, and I couldn’t see his face.

  Suddenly, he whipped around, stalked to me on a growl and bent low until he was in my face.

  “You fuckin’ serious right now, baby?”

  “I’m fuckin’ serious,” I replied.

  His eyes darkened like they did when he was horny and he bent to give me a soft, passionate kiss.

  “Oh my word,” I heard my mom breathe.

  Graham pulled away, dropped to his knees and kissed my slightly rounded belly. I wasn’t showing by any means, but I could tell a difference.

  Behind him, I saw Tuesday move to the ornament that announced my pregnancy. It was two snowmen, one male, one female. The male had a Santa hat that read “Dad” and the female had a pregnant belly that said, “Coming August 2020” and a Santa hat that said “Mom.”

  Tuesday squealed and said, “Shit, you too?”

  My wide eyes moved to her and she slapped a hand over her mouth before looking at her husband with guilty, but no less happy eyes.

  “Wait, what?” I asked her.

  Graham gave me one last peck and helped me off the couch so I could move to my best friend. She tried keeping it in but looked like she was going to burst. Sam came to her side, sliding his arm around her waist and shook his head at her in humor.

  “We’re due in August,” he said, smiling down at me.

  Tuesday let out a pent-up breath and rushed to me, hugging me painfully tight, but I didn’t mind.

  “We’re gonna be pregnant together!” I cried, hugging her back as tight as my arm would let me.

  Mom came over to our huddle and butted in, giving us both squeezes as she cried.

  “I’m so happy for you, sweetheart. You finally have what you wanted your entire life,” she told me, holding my face and looking at me as if her world was complete.

  I nodded, trying to keep the tears at bay, but failing miserably. I didn’t care, I could blame it on the pregnancy hormones and get away with it.

  When we all sat back down, I addressed the room, but specifically spoke to Tuesday and Sam.

  “We talked about it and if we have a girl, we want to name her Wednesday, after you Tuesday,” I told her and watched her face melt down, much like mine was doing.

  I pointedly looked at Sam and told him, “If we have a boy, we’re going to name him Wyatt Samuel, after you.”

  He shook his head, humbled, but said, “I couldn’t let you do that, honey. You should name him after your dad.”

  It was my turn to shake my head. I was certain of my choice to name my baby after Sam.

  “It’s already been decided, Sam. You saved my life, and you’re a damn good person. I couldn’t think of anyone else to name my baby after.”

  Sam came to my side, kissed my cheek, and whispered his thanks in my ear.

  ***

  LATER THAT NIGHT, Graham and I lay in bed, saying nothing but feeling everything. I realized how complete my life was and how I wouldn’t change anything.

  “Everything that’s happened in life, good or bad, has led up to this moment,” I mused to Graham. “I feel so at peace, happier than I can ever remember.”

  “As much as I complain,” he started, turning toward me and resting his forehead against mine. “I don’t think we’d be where we are right now if everything didn’t happen the way it did.” He finished with rubbing his nose against mine and my chest swelled with so much love, I was sure I was bursting with it.

  I climbed on top of Graham, settling my knees around his waist and ground down on him.

  “The doctor cleared me for sex yesterday,” I told him, bending to give him a kiss, opening his mouth with my tongue and feeling his cock grow hard beneath me.

  “Fuck, I love you, Henley,” Graham growled, flipping us and hovering over top of me.

  “I love you, Graham, more than words.”

  The End

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  First, thank you to my husband. Without your support, I don’t know if I would have had the courage to follow my dream.

  To my girls, thank you for understanding that sometimes Mom can’t play because she’s following her heart. I hope y’all grow up chasing your own dreams, however wild they may be.

  To my editor, thank you for working tirelessly behind the scenes to polish my book and make it what it is!

  To Enticing Journey Book Promotions, you guys are the bomb and I appreciate how much effort you guys have put into spreading the word about my book.

  To all the blogs and bloggers, thank you!

  To Just Write Creations, thank you for the PERFECT cover for this book. I couldn’t imagine it looking any other way.

  To my readers, I hope you enjoyed this and will follow me into the next book. I don’t know what I would do without y’all.

  About the Author

  Hope Jones is the wife of her very own alpha male and the mother of four beautiful daughters. She lives in a small town in South Carolina, but was born in Brunswick, GA. She's always had a love for reading, even at a young age thrillers always interested her. As she got older, romance mixed with some thriller/suspense became her obsession.

  If you can't find Hope glued to her Kindle, you'll usually find her chasing her girls around, running her hectic household, and plotting stories for the alpha men that have taken over her mind.

  You can find her at the links below.

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