by Connie Cox
The backlash of all the excitement hit her. “How do the trauma teams do that every day? I’m exhausted.”
“Training and natural aptitude.”
“Give me a minute to settle down before Adrian sees me like this.” The emotional roller coaster had left her feeling jumpy and snappish—not the best way to approach a child who might be traumatized. She forced herself to take a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling her heart rate adjust accordingly.
“Okay, I’m ready.” Despite the urgent need she felt to get to her child in case he needed comfort, she kept her walk to a fast clip instead of a full-out run.
Cole kept pace with her. “Are you always calm around Adrian? Has he ever seen you upset?”
As they began to walk, she saw Adrian pushing his grandfather toward them. He looked calm enough, but with Adrian looks were deceptive.
“Not if I can help it.” She ignored the criticism she imagined in his voice—surely he knew he had no right?—and thought back. “I can’t remember the last time Adrian might have seen me upset.”
“Don’t you think you’re setting up unreasonable expectations? He’s going to be exposed to the real world someday.”
Isabella stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. “Just like that, you can come in and start parenting?”
Cole’s jaw set as he stared into her eyes, his own eyes flashing. “I’d have been here sooner if I had known.”
Maybe single parenthood hadn’t been such a bad thing. She might have had to carry the whole load but she hadn’t had to compromise on child-rearing techniques.
With a sharp glance at Adrian and her father, who were now within earshot, she said, “It’s time for us to go home now.”
“I’ll walk you to your car.”
“No need.” Normalcy was what Isabella needed right now. And normalcy didn’t include Cole Lassiter.
“I insist. It’s the polite thing to do.”
To refuse would be churlish and petty—which would upset her father. He would see her lack of manners as a sign of her distress and would become distressed himself on her behalf.
“Fine.” Her tone was less than gracious.
Cole helped her father into the car, folded up and stored the wheelchair in her tiny trunk, and sternly instructed Adrian to buckle up in the backseat when her son protested against wearing his seat belt. All chores she dreaded. So why did she resent him taking that burden from her?
She was tired, too tired to be rational. The sooner she was home and in bed, the better. Although, with all that swirled in her mind, she could count on a case of insomnia to rob her of her much-needed rest.
She wouldn’t think about how well she had slept in Cole’s arms. She wouldn’t think about never sleeping in his arms again. She wouldn’t think about never sharing a bed again or growing old alone.
Cole interrupted her thoughts as he opened her car door for her.
Before she folded herself into her car, he put his hand on her arm to stop her. A shiver rushed through her at his touch—another thing she would never think of again.
“I’m going to be in town for the next several days. I want to spend time with my son.”
“I’ll call you tonight to discuss it after Adrian goes to bed.”
“Isabella—”
The seriousness of his tone as well as the use of her given name put her on alert.
“Yes?”
“I wasn’t asking you. I was telling you. Adrian is my son and I will spend time with him, with your blessing or without. You choose.”
Isabella watched Cole stride away. He no longer had a cocky swagger of a boy trying to convince everyone, including himself, of his purpose. Now he walked with the confident step of a man sure of who he was and what he could do.
She squared her jaw. She was no longer the meek girl who agreed with everyone. She was a mother, and years of standing up for her son had made her stronger than Cole could ever imagine. If he thought he could bully her, he had another think coming.
CHAPTER NINE
COLE tried to work off his excess energy with a leisurely swim. Once he started, he didn’t want to stop. The rhythmic motion not only helped to loosen up the stiff muscles in his shoulder and neck but also gave him the right environment to reflect.
He had come back to the home of his birth for a business venture, with the vague intention of proving to himself that he’d long ago recovered from his past—only to find he had created a future in his son.
And what did he have with his son’s mother?
More than an attraction. A fascination, a longing, a connection that had never been severed despite his best attempts.
Over the past week he’d watched as she had selflessly, generously and cheerfully reached out to family and athletes alike at the special games. He’d never seen her lose her patience or her composure. Everyone who knew of her held her in the highest regard.
While he admired her saintly public persona, it was the private Bella that interested him. How many people knew she got grouchy when she was hungry? That she got riled when her parenting skills were questioned? That she purred when she slept?
And she screamed his name when she climaxed?
He was certain he was the only one with that knowledge.
And he wanted to know more.
But was he wasting his time? He had office staff scurrying to rearrange schedules and other doctors shouldering his patient load.
When his muscles quivered and throbbed so hard that he could swim no more, he called it a night.
As a therapist, what would Bella say about his compulsive swimming? Would she understand that he felt restless after so few hours in surgery the last week? Or would she see past that excuse and understand that he was afraid he’d stirred up too many ghosts today and was hoping to be so tired he would have a dream-free rest?
As a woman, what would she do to soothe him, body and soul?
He sat in his lonely hotel room, watching the shadows on the ceiling and remembering every curve, every moan, every delicious shudder Bella had gifted him with in this very room.
It was so much more than sex, but what it was, he just wasn’t sure.
The R-word tried to creep into his mind but he stopped it before it could take hold. “Relationship” wasn’t in his vocabulary. But, then, “Daddy” hadn’t been there either, until his son had added it. Now it was one of the best words he’d ever heard.
* * *
Bella flipped through the photo albums her son loved so much as she thought about the last week and a half. With Cole on the scene, so much had changed—and so much would change in the future. The two of them standing slightly apart in a group photo gave her a sadly sweet feeling.
What did she feel for Cole? She had been angry at him for so long that anger kept resurfacing. But she had spoken the truth when she had assured him that going their own separate ways had been for the best for both of them. And now that she knew why he had wanted to leave so badly—why it hadn’t been all about her—she had a whole different understanding of the life Cole had led apart from hers all those years ago.
She studied a photo taken at the boy-girl mixer where she had first met Cole. All her friends were posturing for the camera. She’d never noticed the boy in the background before. It was Cole, dressed in the white shirt and black pants of the wait staff, looking on with such longing to be a part of the class who kept him at arm’s length. She was doing the same thing now—making sure he knew he was not part of her little family.
What did she feel for him?
The anger was a habit. A safety barrier to keep from getting hurt again. A way to punish Cole for all the pain she’d endured when he’d rejected her.
The lust...that was something more, something deeper she didn’t want to explore, not with him leaving so soon.
But the relief she felt that she was no longer Adrian’s sole parent was overwhelming.
And pride. After watching the competent, confident way Cole had ten
ded to the saxophone player, she felt great pride in the man who had fought so hard to become the successful doctor he now was.
Isabella had intended to say no.
She had intended to tell Cole she had no intention of letting him waltz in fifteen years too late and take control. She had fought too long for her hard-won control to hand it over to him because he demanded it.
She had intended to tell him he could just put himself back on that airplane and never set foot again on New Orleans’s soil. She didn’t need to ever feel his arms around her again, or feel his breath as he whispered in her ear, or his mouth as he made her feel more like a woman than she had ever felt in her entire life.
She had intended to tell him that her son had been traumatized enough.
Except—Adrian hadn’t been traumatized at all. Instead, he had been pretending to be a doctor, checking out all his superhero action figures like Cole had done, running his hands down their tiny arms and legs.
That Adrian initiated that kind of pretend game on his own was another huge breakthrough in his development.
How could she not be thrilled at Adrian’s show of creativity?
And no matter how badly it stung her pride, Isabella would always do the right thing for her son.
She couldn’t deny it. Cole was good for Adrian.
That Bella couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea of never seeing Cole again was totally irrelevant in her decision-making process.
As always, she would do what was best for her son, even though getting used to Cole being around certainly wasn’t good for her.
As she reached for the phone to give him a call, she noticed the message light.
Her department head requested—make that insisted—that she come in early to see a patient of Dr. Lassiter’s. Did Cole understand what kind of havoc these last-minute schedule changes played with a single mother’s schedule?
So he wanted to experience parenthood. Fine. If he wanted to experience parenthood, she’d let him, in all its glory.
* * *
As he mindlessly flipped through the television channels, Cole rubbed his shoulder, thought of the full prescription bottle on his bathroom counter and considered the talks he intended to have with his lawyers and his future partners in the morning. The medicine always made him thickheaded and groggy.
On the bedside table, his phone vibrated. Caller ID showed Bella’s home number.
“Cole, I called to say okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, you can spend time with Adrian while you’re in town. Got a paper and pen? Here’s his schedule.”
Cole scrambled to keep up as Bella rattled off the whens and wheres of Adrian’s day.
Adrian took the bus to the local junior high, where he was mainstreamed in morning classes for art, music, home economics and lunch. Bella picked him up and drove him across town for speech therapy during her lunch break. Then she drove him to track practice with his coach, an older woman who used to coach on a college level and now filled her days volunteering for the special games. Then Bella picked him up and took him back to her office where he had a space of his own to watch DVDs until she finished with all her clients.
“I’ll take the lunch run and, instead of taking Adrian to your office, I’d just like to hang out with him, okay?”
Bella hesitated and he thought she was readying herself to say no.
Instead, she said, “If you have a problem, you can always bring him by the office or call David. Here’s David’s number.”
Cole wrote it down under the list of Adrian’s activities.
“Have him home by supper. We eat around seven.”
“Will do.” Cole’s heart was pounding. After being without family for most of his life, he now had a son. “Thanks, Bella.”
“Cole, one other thing.”
Cole tensed at the unyielding tone of Bella’s voice.
“What?”
“I’d rather not advertise that you’re Adrian’s father, especially around work.”
Cole felt his heart plummet before his pride took hold. “I may not have come from the best neighborhood, but few would hold me in contempt now.”
“It’s not about you. It’s about me. Too many people know how to count and—I’m just not ready for the questions, asked and unasked, about my marriage to David. Give me some time.”
Cole had sudden clarity of what it must have been like for Bella, unwed with her baby’s father not returning her calls. Remorse struck him deeply. “I will be proud to announce to everyone that Adrian is my son, but we’ll do this in your own time, Bella.”
“In my own time. Thank you for that.” Bella’s sigh was deep and audible. “You’re a father any child would be proud to have.”
Fatherhood made Cole feel like a different man. His hope was that fatherhood would make him a better man. He vowed to Bella, to Adrian and to himself to do his best.
* * *
As Cole had a conference with his legal staff about Adrian’s trust fund, he felt more than a sense of peace within himself. He felt a sense of legacy.
Legacy—an ideal he must have inherited from his father. Like his father, Cole wouldn’t be handing his legacy to his son. Adrian had limitations—even though Cole had a strong feeling his son was far from reaching the end of his abilities yet.
Unlike his father, Cole was more than content with who his son was. Having a son was a gift Cole had never even hoped for. That his son had autism was a reality Cole would need to learn more about.
But Cole didn’t need a clone of himself to make him proud of being a parent. And professionally he had successfully spread his own legacy throughout the United States with the sports medicine and orthopedic clinics he supported. He found plenty of fulfilment in handing his knowledge to surgeons across the nation. With the New Orleans connection, he would have all the major areas covered.
For the first time since he’d stepped off the plane at the New Orleans airport—no, for the first time since he’d boarded an airplane at the same airport fifteen years ago—Cole felt at peace.
Today he finally felt like he should move on, past the death of his parents and brother and into his own future. The past was the past. If he had to name the cause of his recovery, that name would be Isabella.
Bella had given him so much. A son. Absolution for so many past transgressions. A sense of belonging—at least, he was working on that one. Bella was right. He couldn’t expect her to disrupt her life and their son’s life for him.
Now to set up a meeting with the sports clinic and convince the doctors they needed him to relocate to New Orleans.
Glad to put all the legal dealings behind him, Cole went in search of his patients. While the details of business were important, they never satisfied him like medicine did.
He found Heath Braden, the young fireman, in the rehab lab, slowly walking on the treadmill. The bleakness had left his eyes, a vast improvement from the last time Cole had seen him.
“Thanks for sending Ms. Allante, Doc.” Heath held out his left hand for a cordial shake. “At first, I wasn’t sure about all that mind-over-matter stuff, but we did this biofeedback thing with wires stuck on my head to measure my brainwaves to know when I’m getting my thoughts in the right place. It seems to be working.”
“So you’re not in as much pain?”
“Yeah, I am. But then I just remember the way I was thinking when we did the biofeedback thing and try to re-create that same place in my mind.” Heath held up his braced hand. “It’s not that the pain goes away, but more like it’s not the main thing going on with me. It’s like hearing annoying noise in the background instead of blasting through headphones. Ms. Allante is fantastic.”
“I totally agree with you there.” Last night, once he had finally got to sleep, he had dreamed of her all night long. He’d woken up before his alarm had gone off, feeling happy and excited to meet the coming day. “Have you seen Dr. Wong today?”
“Sure. He sat in with me and Ms.
Allante. He said he’d never seen her work before and wanted to check her out.”
Cole remembered the way Wong had checked her out at the dance. “And what did he think?”
“He said he would like to refer more patients to her.”
“I understand she stays booked.”
“That’s what she told him. That I was a special case she worked in because you had asked her to.” Heath chuckled. “Dr. Wong wanted to know what you had that he didn’t. Ms. Allante got all flustered. I don’t think she even realized he was flirting with her until then.”
Cole checked his watch. Did he have time to speak to Dr. Wong before he needed to pick up Adrian? If he did, what would he say?
He had no claim on Bella and he never would. Bella deserved a man who could give her emotional support. All Cole had to give was a boatload of emotional baggage.
“I’ll be here a few more days, Heath. If you need anything, let me know.”
“Dr. Wong tells me you invented the techniques he used to keep from amputating.”
“That’s what sharing knowledge is all about.” Cole had such a good feeling about this merger, despite some of the sports clinic doctors’ reluctance to agree to as much charity work as Cole required in his merger agreements. But they would come around. They needed his expertise.
Heath held up his healing hand. His voice was gruff with tears as he said, “Without this, I don’t know who I’d be. Thanks, Doc, for everything.”
Thanks like Heath’s was why Cole did what he did. He might not be gifted in love, but he’d been gifted with a double dose of talent in hand surgery. Nothing made him feel more fulfilled than to spread as much good as he could.
“You’re welcome. Take care of that family of yours.”
“Thanks to you, Doc, I will.”
Cole’s next stop was to check on Ernest. According to the charts, Ernest’s anxiety over being in the hospital was playing havoc with his vitals.
“Tell me the truth, Doc.” Ernest gestured toward his braced shoulder. “How bad is it?”
From what Cole had seen of the X-rays, Ernest’s complete recovery was possible if he had the right specialist.