A word he refused to remember.
“With your upper body strength, you could probably take that ladder, or any ladder, without breaking a sweat.”
He laughed, wondering if she’d just subtly come on to him. Hoping a little she had. “It’s the getting down that will be the hard part.” Yes, he’d intentionally skipped over the down and dirty bits on the loft mattress, knowing that probably wouldn’t be part of his life again. Especially not with her. The previously fruity Pinot Grigio went sour on his tongue. “Don’t you hit your head on the ceiling when you sit up?” Speaking of harsh reality.
“I used to, but I’ve adjusted now.”
“You’re nuts, you know that, right?”
“One person’s nuts is another person’s happy. I’m content here.” She swirled the wine around in her glass and smiled at him.
He couldn’t deny that she looked happy. “Even though it feels like a tree house?”
“Best damn tree house I’ve ever seen.” She preened that silky hair with those earrings slipping in and out of view, and it hit him full on in the center of his chest.
Her happiness, her freedom, she nearly took his breath away. “One big gust of wind could have this place on its side.” He deflected the feeling using one of his favorite defenses, being snarky.
“Look, I know it’s small but, like I said, I have everything I need, and I’m happy here.”
He glanced out the window up the driveway to his huge and lonely house. “That’s more than I can say for myself so good on you. I’m happy for you.” Why hold a grudge over his predicament against an innocent victim like Mary? She’d come to help him and as much as he’d wanted to kick her out at first, he was grateful she was here.
The oven timer went off and Mary rushed to take out the mouth-watering chicken, pesto and cheese scented meal from the toy-sized appliance.
Dinner was served and at first they sat in amicable silence as he savored the food, tasting pinenut-flavored chicken in a way he hadn’t enjoyed a meal in nine months. He’d turned half the lights off in his life since the accident, and Mary was insisting on being his generator. The light may be dimmer than it used to be, but it had become so much brighter than before she’d arrived. He needed to thank her properly one day soon.
Over dinner and more wine, him more than her, they opened up and talked about old times, carefully avoiding the most significant moments—their first kiss, a mind-blower—and their one date at her prom, the night he’d realized she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and had wanted her with everything he’d had. Not to mention the second life-altering kiss ten years later.
During the course of dinner, including seconds and followed by a spectacular apple crumble with vanilla ice cream for dessert, he felt human again—like a guy with feelings and passion and experience, and a surprisingly huge appetite. Nearly admitting that nostalgia was far better than isolation and bitterness.
His hands clutched the armrests on his wheelchair, remembering he’d never walk again. She’d almost tricked him into forgetting that detail.
He ground his molars and went quiet. Damn reality.
“Are you okay?”
“Sure.” He hadn’t fooled her. She homed in on his restless eyes, forcing him to meet her gaze. He needed to get out of there. The moment seemed like an eternity, which she made up for by crossing the short distance between them, leaning in and kissing his cheek. The exotic flowered scent in her hair nearly overpowered him.
“I know it must be unimaginably hard to deal with all you’ve had to, but I want you to know that you’re the one guy in my entire life I’ll always look up to. You’re my life-changer. Nothing will ever alter that.”
Moved by her words, maybe a little dumbstruck, he held her earnest stare, thankful for her honesty, unaware as she angled her lips on top of his, settling so gently before slipping away, leaving him craving more, more than he’d dared to want since he’d lost half of himself.
He left her house that evening scraped, bruised and frustrated emotionally, though his stomach was filled with good wine, food and dessert. On so many levels it had been torture, reminiscing about the past, knowing he’d never be that person again. That reality always managed to cut deep and suck the joy from a room, and it had happened so much faster in a treehouse-sized place like Mary’s.
He’d enjoyed her company more than he’d cared to admit, but he wasn’t that guy anymore. Her life-changer. He’d grown comfortable in withdrawing, it had become his default program, and he a computerized robot who only liked to work out in the gym. But Mary was making that escape route more and more difficult to navigate.
He’d been a complete gentleman when he’d left, not grabbing her shoulders and forcing her mouth to stay with his, as he’d wanted with all he had. Why not take what he wanted? He’d already lost everything else. But he’d chosen not to cross that line and had made a quick exit, so she’d never have a clue how torn up and mixed up he felt. Maybe he overrated his acting ability and she saw right through him—who knew?—but she’d seemed fine with his abrupt departure. He simply couldn’t take another moment of what she offered—life, optimism, sexual desire. He’d let go of those feelings long ago.
Once home, after undressing and getting ready for bed, he remembered a promise. Mary had asked him to take ownership of his bedtime range of motion exercises, and he’d said he would. So he transferred from his chair to his bed and gathered his leg, bending the knee and pulling it toward his chest. It went so much easier than the last time he’d tried to do it a month or two ago. He had to give credit where credit was due, so he thought about Mary. Again. Probably a bad idea while lying on the bed after her tender kiss.
He’d acted like he thought she was crazy for choosing to live in a movable tiny house but, in truth, he’d gotten a kick out of her unusual living arrangement. Even envied her being able to pick up and move house wherever she took a job. The freedom. Independence. No strings attached.
He manually rotated his ankle around the socket, then flexed and pointed his foot, and thought how Mary had once been a caged bird living with those parents yet had always managed to be a free spirit. He’d admired that about her way back then, even though it’d forced him to take notice how much he depended on his parents. Had he ever been a free spirit? Why hadn’t he chosen a university farther away from home when he’d had the chance, with several to choose from?
With his eyes closed, he grimaced. Because of her. Even then Mary had made an impact on his life. Sure, she was his sister’s best friend, but she’d reached somewhere new inside him, a place that had never been touched, and he wanted to watch over her. Not in a big brother kind of way either. Hell, if he’d gone to Harvard, like his parents had wanted him to, he wouldn’t have been there for her when Alexandra had sworn Mary needed a date for the prom. If he hadn’t encouraged her to think big and go after her dreams, would she have had a different life altogether? She’d called him her life-changer—could it be true?
How could he ever know for sure?
His thoughts wouldn’t let up and he suspected he wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight.
Over dinner, she’d told him all about her job with the medical agency, how she’d specifically chosen it in order to see the country. She could have made three times as much money signing on with a large hospital and staying put. Then she’d reminded him that, unlike him, her family had never, ever taken a vacation. She had a lot of territory to cover to make up for that. Staying put had never been an option.
These days, staying put was his only option. My, how things had flipped.
That was another thing he’d always admired about her, she never complained about her lot in life. Nothing seemed to get her down. She’d been wise enough, even back then, to know that one day she’d be in charge of her own future, and since then, rather than blaming any failures on her parents, she’d done wonders with it.
He lay back and rolled to his side, adjusting the pillow under his neck, n
oticing that he could already sense the difference in hip rotation from consistently doing ROM.
There had always been something else he’d dug about her—she’d been crazy about him. Sure, it had just been a teenaged infatuation, and that usually faded over time. But somehow he’d known that, coming from Mary, even a crush could turn into forever. Back then he hadn’t been anywhere ready for forever…but still the small one from the trailer park had called out to him. And then he’d kissed her.
Why hadn’t he ever done anything about those instincts when he’d had the chance?
Adrenaline leaked into his chest, making his heart speed up and an anxious feeling spread like a flash flood throughout his upper body. The first kiss had knocked him for a loop, and forever hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea at the time.
Bad idea. Really bad idea.
Fortunately, he’d come to his senses before he’d acted on his most basic of all instincts. He’d had big plans for his life, so had his father, and getting mixed up with his kid sister’s friend couldn’t be a part of it. Dear old Dad would have hit the ceiling if he had gotten involved with Mary. The man could only take charity so far.
He rolled to his other side, reaching down to adjust his legs again. Then he admitted something else—that first kiss had been for curiosity and had shaken him up, but in a good way; the kiss ten years later had been a test to see if his feelings had changed. The truth had shown up that evening at his sister’s wedding—he’d never stopped wanting Mary.
But what the hell did any of that matter now, when everything else had changed?
Seeing her again, spending time with her every day, now that he was who he was, sometimes felt like rolling in ground glass. Yet being around Mary was still worth it. He might never be the guy she’d look up to again, but he knew she still valued him, no matter what he’d become.
In the beginning, after the accident, he hadn’t wanted to live anymore, but over time he’d found a reason to go on. He still loved his family and wanted to see them all have good lives, even though his father had been out of line insinuating he had been to blame for the accident. He had knowledge that a dozen years of medical training had taught him. Hell, he’d saved lives. Regularly! That had to account for something.
He’d discovered the gym and full-out body building. Well, upper body building, anyway. It had saved him and had given him false hope for getting back to work. He’d tried it his way before and it had backfired. He hadn’t been ready to go back to work, mentally or physically. Having full-out leg spasms in front of a shocked patient had proved it. Now he had Mary in his corner, and even though she mixed him up with forgotten feelings, she was his one big hope to get back on the job.
Prove it, she’d challenged him, and he hoped with everything he had that he would.
She’d given him a second chance, and right about now that meant everything to him.
CHAPTER FOUR
MARY STARED AT the very close ceiling in her loft bedroom. She’d always felt cozy and protected up here, yet tonight she couldn’t sleep. It definitely had something to do with spending the evening with Wesley Van Allen, and drinking wine. And what was up with the kiss?
Wes had looked rugged with that short haircut, and had seemed more his old self, and, well, she’d gotten carried away, once again proving his being in a wheelchair leveled the playing field in her head with a guy who’d always been out of her league.
Shame on her, but he was right there, easily accessible, and it had felt really great to kiss him. And she could tell he’d liked it, had seen the slight flare to his nostrils and a glint in his eyes afterward.
As hard as it was, putting thoughts of Wesley aside, she lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the topic that had captured her heart for the last year—having a baby.
She wanted a baby of her own so badly it hurt. She’d be turning thirty-four soon, and she couldn’t exactly hold out for finding the right guy first. What if she never did? She wanted her own child to love and hold and cherish. She’d never felt cherished in her life, but she knew, after bonding with little Rose, it would be easy to do with a baby of her own. The older she got the more complications there could be with giving birth, too. Of course she’d love her baby, no matter what, but it would be challenging enough being a single, working mom. Why take any added chances by putting off what she could feasibly accomplish now? Maybe she should blame the urgent feelings about getting pregnant on all the Kegels she’d inadvertently been doing lately, thanks to Wes.
Which reminded her, she really needed to get going with her plans. Should she go with an insemination clinic or do it the old-fashioned way? Ha-ha, with who? She squinted to avoid the image of a certain handsome man with a new haircut.
Not exactly putting yourself out there, are you, Harris? She could practically hear Wes’s snarky retort, that was, if he had a clue what was on her mind. Then it hit her.
She sat bolt upright and conked her head on the loft ceiling. After seeing a burst of stars and rubbing out the pain, she lay back down but not before admitting her crazy idea might just work.
The bigger question was—would Wesley Van Allen consider being a sperm donor? Think of the phenomenal DNA! Smart. Handsome…so out of her league.
The idea was further proof she’d had too much wine to drink. Now with the bump on her forehead, at least she wouldn’t feel a hangover.
Hitting her head had also knocked some sense into her. This crazy idea was asking too much, and Wes would throw her out of the house if she dared bring up the subject. Heck, he’d probably think she’d set up this whole “Hello, I’m just popping in to help you get back on track” for the sake of getting what she wanted.
How awful would that be! Even though it had honest-to-God never occurred to her about Wes until just now. He’d never believe her. She couldn’t dare betray his trust.
She needed to drop it. Drop the subject right now.
She rolled onto her side with one tiny thought waving its hand far in the back of her mind. Maybe?
*
Wesley had been cooperative over the past few days since their dinner, but today’s workout had seemed extra hard for him. Yet he’d kept pushing himself, getting frustrated when he didn’t get the results he’d expected.
“Your head’s not into it today. That’s to be expected from time to time,” Mary said.
“I feel like I’ve hit the wall.” He dropped the free weights and they landed with a loud thud on the workout mat.
“Don’t get discouraged.”
He glared at her. “Don’t give me that.”
“Okay, you can keep pounding your head against a wall if you want. I’m just saying today might be a good rest day.” She tossed him a towel.
He grabbed it and wiped his face, agitation tensing his eyes.
She drank some water, then offered him his own bottle.
He shook his head.
He wasn’t about to be appeased. It was clear all he wanted to do, besides work himself too hard, was sulk.
“If you overdo it, you may regress. Take a break today. Watch some movies.” Why did she suddenly hope he’d ask her to join him? “Get outside for some fresh air.”
“I’ll make my own decisions. Thanks.” He made his point grudgingly.
She paced the gym, putting some distance between them. He’d seemed tenser the last few days of workouts since their dinner together, and she’d hoped he’d get over it, but he clearly hadn’t. What a bonehead idea it’d been to kiss him. Don’t take all the blame, there could be dozens of things bothering him that I have no idea about. But whatever was getting to him sure had a tight grip.
While standing behind him, she saw the incredibly fit man in the wheelchair gulp down the entire bottle of water. Everything he did lately was extreme. He tried too hard, expected too much of himself, insisted on pushing, pushing, pushing.
The guy needed an outlet beyond the gym. “I have an idea, why not use that beautiful Jacuzzi sitting out th
ere on your patio, empty and lonely?”
He thought for a moment, his brows smoothing as he did. “That’s not a half-bad idea. Maybe I do need a break.”
She clapped. “Great.”
“Come with me?”
“I thought you were sick of me.”
“That’s not the issue.”
“What is it then?”
“Do you have to make such a big deal about everything? It was your idea, wasn’t it? So come with me. That’s all I’m saying.” He spun his wheelchair toward the door. “I’ll meet you out there in fifteen minutes.”
“Deal!”
Twenty minutes later Mary showed up at the patio Jacuzzi. Wes was already in it, his arms outstretched along the tastefully patterned tile, the picture of a man of leisure without a care. From this vantage point, no one would know he needed a chair to get around.
She felt self-conscious taking off her bathing suit cover-up in front of him, because he didn’t look away, just sat there grinning the whole time. It made her suck her stomach in tight and tense her inner thighs.
As quickly as possible, she slipped into the soothing water and sat across from him. Looking disappointed, he patted the spot beside him so she complied. He greeted her with a little splash, and she returned the favor. Smiling at each other, they settled down, submerged in the hot water, soaking in the sun and feeling completely relaxed.
“This feels great,” she said, leaning her head back on the rim.
“I know. I should use this more often.”
“I told you!” After a few seconds of silence she couldn’t resist asking. “Why don’t you?”
“It’s not something I enjoy doing alone.”
“Is it a safety issue?”
He shook his head, lapping up some water with his palm and dropping it on his head, wetting his face. “No. It’s just with all these seats it’s meant to be a group activity. Not solitary.”
Miracle for the Neurosurgeon Page 6