Forever After: Book Five in the Unrestrained Series

by S. E. Lund

  "It's fine," I said and smiled. "Why was the meeting so bad?"

  Drake sighed. "They had a paperweight of mine. Apparently, they found it at Derek's cabin."

  "What?" I said and put down the fork. "How did it get out there? No, wait," I said and leaned against the counter. "Let me guess. Lisa took it from you and planted it there. Was it the one from Africa that your father gave you?" I said, remembering seeing it in Drake's office when I had visited.

  "Unfortunately, yes," Drake said and frowned. "What was she thinking? Did she take it as some kind of weird memento? Or did she actually plant it at the cabin to implicate me?"

  I shook my head and turned back to the stove. "Who can say? She's crazy."

  "She is." Drake got up and went to the coffee maker, pouring my decaf into a carafe and making a pot of caffeinated coffee for himself.

  “So, to completely change the topic, what are your plans for your art? The gallery said it wanted to see more of your work. What’s next?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know yet,” I said. “I’m busy with Sophie and the house. Honestly, it takes all my energy to look after her.”

  He nodded and watched me as I plated out his meal. “Pretty soon, you’ll have more time. When she stops nursing, you can get me to give her half her bottles.”

  I put his plate down on the island in front of him. “I don’t want to stop nursing yet,” I said. “I have to carve out some time to myself. If she slept through the night, it would be easier. I’d feel more awake during the day.”

  Drake cut up his eggs and dug into his meal. “You have to do what works for you,” he said. “Whatever you decide. I’ll support you.”

  I nodded. “Thank you,” I said. “Sophie’s still too young to stop nursing. The doctors all said six months at least. Since she was premature, that means eight months for Sophie since she was premature. I have some time to go. I’d like to nurse her for a full year, if I can.”

  Drake dragged his toast through his eggs. “Like I say, I’ll support whatever you decide.”

  “Thank you,” I said again. In all honesty, I wasn’t ready to go back to painting. I’d been preoccupied with the trial and how my father was doing. While he’d been recovering nicely from his stroke, he was still frail and was at risk for small strokes, called TIAs. I wanted to spend as much time with him and Elaine as we could. Almost losing him like I did made me realize how much a part of my life he was and I wanted to keep it that way.

  “I was going to go to dad’s today, but if Sophie’s sick, I don’t think I should.”

  “No,” Drake said. “Go if you want. I’ll stay home with her.”

  I shook my head. “I’d be too worried,” I said and fixed my own plate.

  “Hey,” Drake said when I sat beside him. He put his hand on my shoulder and leaned in to kiss my cheek. “In case you forgot, I’m a pediatric neurosurgeon, or would have been one already if it weren’t for Lisa Monroe.”

  We kissed and I forced a smile. “I know. Maybe I’ll go over later if Sophie’s okay.”

  “Up to you.”

  After we finished our breakfast, I went into Sophie’s room, deciding to wake her up and feed her so she wouldn’t sleep too long. She groused a bit when I picked her up, snuffling, her tiny fists beside her head as she stretched. Her pacifier was still clamped in her mouth when she smiled at me.

  “I guess you’re not feeling too bad,” I said and kissed her rosy cheek. I brought her downstairs to the living room where Drake was sitting, having dressed in his bath robe, a cup of coffee in his hand. He was watching CNN and reading the newspaper.

  “There’s my girl,” he said when I sat beside him on the sofa and adjusted Sophie in my arms so she could nurse. “Time to wake up, sleepy head.”

  Drake leaned down and kissed her forehead and then watched while I got her latched on.

  “You do that like a pro,” he said and smiled.

  “It hurt like hell for weeks,” I said, remembering all the times I fed Sophie with tears in my eyes. “But once I got it right, it stopped hurting completely.”

  He stroked Sophie’s head and then brushed hair off my cheek, smiling as he did.

  “My two girls,” he said softly. “I wish my father was alive to see you two.”

  I smiled at Drake, a sense of regret filling me that I’d never met the legendary Liam Morgan.

  “I wish I’d known him.”

  “He would have charmed you,” Drake said. “He was a lady’s man. You would have loved him.”

  “Like father like son,” I said with a laugh.

  “I am not a lady’s man,” Drake said with a mock-frown. “I’m a committed married man and father of a beautiful daughter.”

  Later, when I was finished nursing Sophie, I laid her down on the floor on her blanket for some tummy time. Drake sat beside me, reading the paper.

  “Oh, I forgot,” he said and left the room, taking the stairs to the second floor. “Stay right where you are.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I replied, smiling at the look on his face. I wondered what he was doing, but he came back down quickly and had his hand behind his back.

  “I guess you forgot what day it is,” he said as he stood across from me, his hands behind his back.

  “What do you mean?” I said and frowned, trying to remember but failed. “I’m drawing a blank…”

  “You’ve been preoccupied, so I don’t blame you, but I remember. Here,” he said and knelt in front of me, on one knee. “This is for you.”

  He held out a small present, the size of a ring box wrapped in white paper with a big pink ribbon.

  “Oh, my God,” I said, finally realizing the fact it was Valentine’s Day. “I forgot all about it. I didn’t even get anything for you. Not even a card…” I glanced at his face, but he was smiling, apparently too excited about me opening his present to care about the fact I’d forgotten to get him anything. “I’m so sorry…”

  “Don’t say a word,” he said and held out the box. “This is a small token of my love for you.”

  I finally took the little present and gently pulled off the ribbon and paper, to reveal a black velvet ring box as I suspected. When I opened it, my eyes almost bugged out. It was a huge pink diamond cut in a marquise shape set in white gold.

  “Drake, you shouldn’t have,” I said and slipped it on my other finger. It fit perfectly, of course.

  “I most certainly should have and wanted to,” he said and took my hand, kissing my palm before turning my hand over so he could admire the ring. “It’s a very rare pink diamond that I found when I was looking for something for you.”

  I admired the ring. It was beautiful. “Was it very expensive?”

  “Not really,” Drake said. “I mean, not compared to some. Colored diamonds are less valuable because they’re flawed. But I thought this would be perfect for you. It’s so pretty.”

  I smiled and pulled closer up for a kiss. He leaned over me, his hands on either side of me, his body between my thighs. Of course, in that position, my mind went immediately to what else I’d like that body of his to do and I wrapped my legs around his hips.

  “Mmm, Ms. Bennet,” he murmured against the skin of my neck. “This position gives me many ideas…”

  “Me, too,” I said and smiled when he began kissing my chin, my throat and nibbling on my ear. “Maybe when Sophie goes to sleep…”

  “Count on it,” Drake said. “I’ll run a nice bubble bath with candles and we can indulge.”

  “It’s a date.”

  We kissed once more and although I would have been happy to make love with Drake right then and there – if Sophia was asleep that is – I let him go and he sat beside me on the sofa, adjusting himself, and picked up the paper once more.

  Chapter 21 - Drake

  Kate had been on edge ever since Sophie ran the fever.

  We spent the morning as we usually did, breakfast together followed by watching the news and reading the paper. Sophie was still sl
eeping, but soon, she'd wake up and Kate would feed her. Then, she'd spent time on the floor with her toys for tummy time.

  In the meantime, Kate brought in a couple of mugs of coffee for us and placed them down on the coffee table.

  "Did you get a call from Detective McDonald about the case?" she asked when she sat beside me.

  "Not yet, but he said they'd call as soon as they arrest someone. Not that it will do me any good, now that someone leaked the fact that one of my possessions was found at the crime scene."

  Kate sighed and sat closer to me. “I’ll be glad when it’s all over,” she said and put her arm around my shoulders, her face next to mine. “I hate what this has done to you.”

  I leaned back and put my arm on the back of the sofa behind her. “I’m alive, I have you and I have Sophia. I’m rich as fuck and can go anywhere in the world that I want. What else do I need?”

  “Drake Morgan?” Kate said, a look of surprise on her face. “Rich as fuck? I’ve never heard you talk like that…”

  “It’s true. I guess I’m angry that everyone’s so quick to dissociate themselves with me over this. You sure learn who your true friends are.”

  Kate nodded and ran her fingers through my hair. “The O’Rileys are true friends. I was afraid that Mrs. O would be too shocked to be able to stay friendly with us, given the BDSM. I mean, they’re a big Catholic family.”

  “Thank God for Mrs. O. She invited us to Sunday dinner, if you want to go.”

  Kate shook her head. “Not this week. Maybe when Sophie’s all better. She’s still got the sniffles and I don’t want her going out in the cold.”

  I nodded and heard her stirring on the baby monitor. “Speaking of Sophie, she’s waking up.”

  I stood up, wanting to go and check on her since she’d still been a bit cranky for the past few days. I thought she was over her cold, if that’s what she had, but it seemed to linger. I didn’t want to worry Kate, so I said nothing, but I kept a close watch over her temperature, checking it when Kate was busy so I didn’t set off alarm bells.

  I went up the stairs to Sophie’s bedroom, which was dim and cool. She was lying on her back, sucking on her pacifier, her eyes still closed. She was snuffling. I bent over her and kissed her forehead and knew immediately that she was hot.

  She coughed, her cough wet and raspy, and I frowned. I went to the change table and retrieved the ear thermometer from the top drawer, taking her temperature. It was up two degrees.

  She was sick. Kate came into the bedroom and saw me with the ear thermometer. Immediately, her face fell and she came right over to the crib.

  “Does she have a fever?”

  “It’s up a bit,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “I’ll get her some Tylenol.”

  “Aww, poor baby,” Kate said and picked Sophie up. She opened her eyes and wasn’t her usual self. Usually, she’d smile at us, but this time she sucked her pacifier and struggled to breathe through her tiny nostrils. Then she coughed again and started to cry.

  “Drake,” Kate said and laid her down on the change table. “She’s sick.”

  “I’ll be right back with the Tylenol. Change her and put her in something light. We need to keep her cool.”

  I went to the kitchen and found the baby Tylenol and then retrieved my medical kit from the hall closet where I kept it in case my skills as a doctor were ever needed. I sprinted upstairs and arrived while Kate was finishing changing Sophie, dressing her in a thin cotton onesie.

  “This won’t be too hot, will it?” she asked, her eyes wide with anxiety. “It’s light cotton.”

  “She’ll be fine,” I said and tried to sound confident so Kate could relax. “I don’t want her wearing anything too warm. Our apartment is nice and warm so she doesn’t need anything heavy.”

  I put my medical case on the chest of drawers and opened it up, taking out my stethoscope so I could listen to Sophie’s heart and chest.

  “Is that necessary?” Kate asked, alarm in her voice.

  “I do this for all my patients,” I said, and unzipped Sophie’s onesie pajamas. I listened to her chest, which was clear, and her heart sounds were normal, so she didn’t have bronchitis or pneumonia. At most, I suspected she had a rhinovirus, with some post-nasal drip that made her cough sound wet.

  “She has a little fever and a touch of the sniffles,” I said and picked up my otoscope so I could check her tympanic membrane for any inflammation. Sophie’s tiny ear drums were pink and healthy. “So far so good. What she has is likely a virus that will run its course in a few days. No need to worry. She might be a bit fussier because of it but she should be back to normal in a few days.”

  “Poor baby’s not feeling good?” Kate said in a sympathetic voice as she bent down over Sophie. “We’ll be sure to give you lots of TLC until you’re better.”

  Kate picked Sophie up while I put away my otoscope and closed my medical kit.

  “How come she got sick?” Kate asked, frowning. “Neither of us are sick. Karen wasn’t sick.”

  “We all carry around a lot of viruses that don’t make us sick. When we’re out, we touch things, bring them into the house. There’s nothing you can do except wash your hands carefully every time you come in from outside.”

  “I hardly even go out,” Kate said and I could tell she was starting to get a bit more worried than I thought she needed to be.

  “I go out frequently, but I always wash my hands before I pick up Sophie if I’ve been outside.”

  Kate nodded and we went down to the main floor, where Kate got situated on the couch and proceeded to nurse Sophie. It was a bit difficult for Sophie to feed, due to her stuffy nose and she had to stop and catch her breath on and off, fussing at the breast as a result.

  “Her nose is so stuffy,” Kate said and turned to me, her brow furrowed. “Is there anything you can do?”

  I went back to my medical kit and took out a nasal bulb syringe. I checked its size and it seemed too big for Sophie’s little nose but I tried it anyway.

  “Here,” I said and took Sophie into my arms. I laid her on the couch beside me and poked the end of the deflated nasal bulb into her nose, sucking the mucus out of one tiny nostril. Sophie coughed and sputtered in response. I did the same with the other nostril, and soon, she was breathing more clearly. “There,” I said and smiled, handing Sophie back to Kate. “A little procedure to clear her nose. That should help her breathe more easily.”

  Kate put Sophie back onto her breast and sure enough, Sophie could nurse without stopping for breath.

  “Thanks,” Kate said and turned to me, her expression more relaxed. “I’m so glad I have an honest-to-God pediatrician as my husband.”

  “You do,” I said and kissed Kate’s palm. “At least, one in the middle of training. If I ever finish, that is…”

  “You will,” Kate said. “As soon as things are back to normal.”

  I sighed and settled back, watching Sophie feed enthusiastically. “If they ever go back to normal.”

  “The new normal,” Kate said. “Both of us have a new life, with Sophie.” Kate turned to Sophie and took hold of her tiny hand. “She’s our focus now.”

  I leaned over and watched her nurse, enjoying the sight of my beautiful wife and baby in such a calm domestic scene. As long as Sophie had nothing serious brewing in her, I felt like Kate and I could finally – finally – put the case and all the fallout around it to bed.

  Of course, things didn’t work out quite the way I thought they would.

  That night, we woke to Sophie snuffling and coughing, her tiny voice magnified over the baby monitor, which Kate had set to its highest volume level. We both woke up abruptly, and when I switched on the lamp by the bed, I saw Kate’s face was blanched with fear.

  “She sounds terrible,” Kate said, throwing back the coverlet and jumping out of bed. She pulled on her robe and rushed out of the bedroom before I could even pull on my boxer briefs. I ran a hand through my hair and went to get my medical kit, r
unning back up the stairs from the hall closet where I kept it.

  When I got to Sophie’s bedroom, Kate had Sophie up and on her shoulder and was rocking her back and forth.

  “Poor baby,” Kate said, her brow knit in anxiety. She glanced at me. “Her cough is worse. She’s sick.”

  “Let me have her,” I said and took Sophie from Kate, laying her down on the change table. I quickly checked her temperature and sure enough, her fever had spiked, this time considerably higher than earlier in the day.

  “We need to give her some more Tylenol.” I grabbed the bottle off the chest of drawers and measured out the right amount for her age and she sucked on the dropper. Then she coughed and coughed. And cried. I quickly changed her to get her out of her wet diaper and put her in a fresh onesie. Kate reached in front of me and wanted to pick Sophie up, no doubt wanting to comfort her, but I stopped her as I pulled out my stethoscope and listened to her chest, to make sure she hadn’t developed a chest infection.

  Luckily, her lungs were clear and so I assumed it was more post-nasal drip. I gently suctioned her nose once more to clear her nasal passages and then handed her over to a clearly distraught Kate.

  Kate took Sophie and held her to her shoulder, rocking her gently.

  “I never realized how scary it is to have a sick child.”

  “I know,” I said and stroked Kate’s cheek. “You have me. I’ll be here to watch over her. You don’t have to worry.”

  “Why does she have a fever?” Kate asked, frowning. “And why is it higher than before?”

  “Babies’ fevers often spike. It’s their immature immune system overreacting to an infection. The Tylenol will take it down in about forty minutes.”

  “Forty minutes?” Kate said and then sat down on the glider rocking chair she used to nurse Sophie at night. She pulled open her nursing nightgown and gave Sophie the breast, getting her latched on and feeding in short order. However, Sophie still struggled to nurse because of her stuffy nose. She cried in between gasps for air, and between coughs.