by J. B. McGee
“I know the definition of surprise, smart-ass.”
I lower my head and chuckle while buttoning my shirt. “Get your sexy ass out here and get dressed so we can go already before all the good trees are gone.”
“I’m sure there is no shortage of trees.”
“Okay. Hurry and get your sexy ass out here and get dressed so we can go before all the hot chocolate is gone.” I pull a pair of slacks from a hanger, then grab my discarded towel.
“Did you say chocolate? And I need—”
“This?” I hold the towel up as I open the glass shower door.
She snatches it. “Yep. Nice outfit.”
I hold my arms out. “You think I should wear it like this?”
Her eyes bulge. “No, girls already fawn all over you. They are definitely not allowed to see you in that shirt with just underwear.”
“Trust me. I don’t want anyone ever seeing me in my underwear ever again. I’m all yours.” With that, I turn and head to the bedroom. I slip the pants on, tuck my shirt in, and then throw on a pair of socks and shoes.
“That’s music to my ears, Mr. Banks.” She raises her voice, I guess assuming I was no longer nearby.
“I’m still in here, Mrs. Banks.” I peek my head around the corner. “And I like that view.”
She whips me with the towel. “Stop. We’re never going to make it out of the house today if you don’t stop looking at me like that.”
“Yes, we’re leaving. How about I go put some coffee on for us while you impress me with your super ability to be the fastest woman on this earth to get ready?” As if she wasn’t the whole package, she seriously can beat me sometimes at getting ready. Natural beauty doesn’t require a ton of makeup or extravagant hairstyles.
She’s finished drying her body, wrapped the towel around above her breasts, and is drying her hair with my towel. “Where are we going to get a tree anyway?” I watch her like she’s a rare piece of art that needs deciphering. After all this time, I’m still totally taken by her. When she’s done drying her hair, she wraps it in one of those cone things girls do, and then saunters to the closet where she drops the other towel around her body, letting it pool on the floor around her feet. She leans over, sticking that ass up in the air again as she slathers her lotion up and down her legs. Damn. All those years I spent thinking getting married would mean the end of a sex life. I was so fucking wrong. I adjust myself in my slacks. Gabby glances back. “Hello? Or is that a surprise too?”
My pulse races, but I exhale, trying to cool the heat that’s suddenly enveloped me. “Not a surprise. We’re going to Calhoun’s.”
She nods before laughing. “Not sure why I asked. I just finally figured out how to get around this little town without the GPS.” She pulls the drawer open in front of her and takes a pair of black lace boy shorts before stepping into them and sliding them up. She still hasn’t put a bra on, and she’s absolutely torturing me. Then, it occurs to me. This is her paying me back for my supposed tease and torture this morning. I put my chin between my fingers and grin. Does she actually know who she’s playing with? “Where is Calhoun’s?”
“North Georgia.” I take a few long strides to close our distance before turning her to pin her against the island dresser in our closet. “What are you doing?”
“Getting dressed, of course.” Her cheeks redden, her breath hitches, and those delicious lips curve into a sly smile. “I thought we lived in north Georgia.”
“This is the northeast metro Atlanta area, but I’m talking North Georgia Mountains. Like an hour from here.” I push my hips into hers. “But you wanna know what I think, Mrs. Banks?”
“Uh huh.” She bites her lip, her eyes widening.
“I think you’re playing a little game. You’re teasing me.”
She does a terrible job of keeping her amusement in. “Never.” Nibbling her neck, I place my hands on her hips before I start to tickle her. She takes the opportunity to duck out from under my arm, which catches me off guard. She’s on the other side of the island. Her breasts still totally unrestrained. “Oh no you don’t!”
“Your giggles are music to my ears. I’d do anything to hear them.” We stare into each other’s eyes for what seems like forever, neither of us blinking, both of us trying not to smile. I’ve already put my contacts in, though, and I end up losing this battle of the eyes. She definitely won the teasing round. My dick is pounding, and I have to get away from her, or we’ll never leave. “Get dressed, Gabby Girl.” I hand her the matching bra to her panties. Me walking out won’t end this teasing round, either. For the rest of the day and night, I’ll have to think about her in just lace panties. Torture.
“Yes, sir. So bossy.”
A vibration buzzes on the elastic waistband of my scrubs. It’s the end of a thirty-six-hour shift, and my body crashes into the concrete blocks that comprise St. Mary’s Hospital, as I reach for my pager. My arms feel boneless and my legs shaky. I’m not sure what is worse: the summer injuries and traumas or the hacking and vomiting that come with cold and flu season. At least the traumas aren’t contagious. Coming into my rotations, I thought the long hours would be what pushed me past my brink, but I’ve started to wonder if surviving the many variations of the modern plagues which compromise the very organs I desperately need to do my job may be.
When the buzz abruptly stops, I realize it’s my cell, not my pager. Pulling it from its holster, I glance at the screen.
Bradley:
You and Ryan still coming tonight?
Sam:
That’s the plan, man.
Bradley:
Damn straight. The man, I am. See y’all soon.
I shake my head, but can’t hold back the smirk. Very typical Bradley Banks right there.
Sam:
Ha. Later, dude.
There. Let me deflate that ego a little for you, brother. The pager does go off, so I replace the phone and pull the small black box. Ryan’s number. Plus five-six-eight-three. Our code numbers for love. Nice.
Replacing the pager, I peel my back off the wall that’s been holding my body up for the past few minutes and head to the on-call room. What was I thinking agreeing to go on this trip with Bradley and Gabby tonight after coming off a shift like this? Clearly, I wasn’t. Because all I want to do is eat and sleep. Ryan has been so good to me. There aren’t many people who know the physical and emotional demands of this job. But he does, and it’s nice to be able to talk it out with him. Sometimes, when I’m too tired for words, he’ll just hold me, and I know he understands the language my body speaks. My mind knows I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have him. But what scares me is how often my thoughts wander to how I felt that day in Joe’s bar when I found out about my father, and then the way Joe’s eyes claimed me at the wedding. Even when there were no words spoken, no touches given, every organ in my body flipped a switch. It was like they had turned off the life support that was keeping me alive to go through the motions, shocked me with paddles, and zapped voltage through my entire body, waking me up to a new sense of living.
Given his place in our family dynamic, it was impossible to avoid him until it wasn’t.
The weekend before Halloween.
Having grown up in Charleston should have made me immune to creepy and ghostly references. After all, one of the biggest attractions has always been the ghost tours. But I’d never been on one. Maybe it was because of Gabby.
I reach the elevator and smash the down button. It immediately opens, and I enter, hitting the number two.
Bradley, Gabby, Ryan, Joe, and I are in Charleston for the weekend. It’s late October, and we’re here to sort out some issues with mine and Gabby’s house. Truthfully, we’re deciding what to do with it and moving everything I didn’t take with me to storage, which is why Joe is tagging along. Since my move, the house has been costing us money to keep it, but neither Gabby nor I are ready to let it go.
Bradley says the trip is pointless and unneeded. “I told you girls
I can afford to foot the bill until you finish school, Sam. It’s the perfect thing for the stupid trust fund I’ve refused to use all these years. There’s no one I’d rather use it for.”
“That’s sweet. But I don’t know that I’m coming back when I finish school. My life is where my family is, and Gabby’s all I have left.” I shake my head, refusing to verbally acknowledge I have a whole new side of family I’d yet to accept in Gabe and Cindy, his new wife, our stepmother. “I can’t imagine living that far away from Gabby. Columbia was one thing—it was only an hour or so. Macon is still a decent drive to the ATL with traffic. Charleston is ridic.”
Bradley nods, his lips forming a thin line. “The worst part about Atlanta is its distance from the coast in my opinion.”
“Exactly.” Gabby shrugs. “Maybe we should all move back to Charleston. I mean, surely they need architects here. And doctors. I can do my career anywhere. Broken people abound.”
Bradley kisses her forehead. “Just waiting to be mended, right?”
She smiles. It’s cute, but kind of makes me want to puke from the syrupy sweetness. He’s helped her deal with her demons, and a tinge of jealousy settles in the pit of my stomach. The closest thing I’ve had to that was Joe. From that day in the bar when he told me about my father to subtle cues later, he’s been trying to repair my heart. But what he doesn’t realize is, it’s like a broken bone. After so long it does grow back. If it’s not set properly, though, it will grow back in the wrong position. The more I’m around Gabe, the more I accept that. The only way to fix me is to re-break my heart, set it, and let it grow back in the right position. That’s the one thing I refuse to allow to happen because after Mom died and over the course of my life, I’ve put Gabby at the center, and I’d built up a fortress around it. The only one who would be capable of breaking my heart is me, and I don’t have any plans for doing that anytime soon.
“Sam?” Gabby nudges me.
“Yeah?”
“So, what do you think about moving back to Charleston?”
“I think that’s reckless of us. Our lives are here, Gab…” I hate Ian, Gabby’s ex-boyfriend, ruined my favorite nickname for her. I almost called her Gabs and caught myself. “Gabby, Ryan moved and transferred his residency to Macon to be with me. His brother’s in Atlanta.” The mention of Joe awakens the butterflies in my stomach. They start fluttering, and I swear if there was musical accompaniment it would be The Hallelujah Chorus. I splay my hand over my torso, willing them to calm down. “We need to prepare the house for a rental and move forward, allowing it to generate some revenue for us instead of bleeding us dry.”
She shakes her head. “And what if renters trash it?”
Bradley glances at her. “In Sam’s defense, that’s what security deposits are for.”
“What kind of rental are you talking about?” Gabby huffs. “College rental house with a yearly lease, seasonal rental, or a rental to people with kids and pets?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. When it’s put like that, it makes me cringe. “I don’t know. I was hoping we could pack the house up and meet with a rental company to help us make those decisions. I’m honestly for the one that will make us the most income. Keeping that house isn’t cheap.” Mom’s life insurance paid it off, but there are other ongoing expenses. I know what I don’t want, and that’s to owe Bradley or Gabby anything.
“Fine.” Gabby takes a deep breath. “But if the house is destroyed, it’s on your hands.” She looks at Bradley. “And yours.”
He and I glance at each other and shrug at the same time.
Bradley chose to make this trip a semi-romantic rendezvous to ease some of Gabby’s post mid-term tensions by staying at The Wentworth Mansion. They’d also spent their first night as husband and wife there. Since that place is like three hundred and fifty dollars a night, Ryan, Joe, and I chose to stay at the house so I could get a head start on packing. Ryan and I are cheap. We are also used to sleeping on cots or not at all. So, it seems ridiculous to waste that kind of cash on a fancy bed and whirlpool. And Joe’s already an extra wheel on this trip. I doubt he would feel comfortable staying here alone if Ryan and I had stayed somewhere else.
The next morning, Gabby and Bradley walk through the door, bearing a tray of coffee and Danishes for breakfast. They opted for the four-star breakfast at The Wentworth before joining us, so they work while we eat.
We barely break for a quick sandwich at lunch, and by the time the sun starts to get low in the sky, there’s a symphony of growling stomachs in our living room, surrounded by boxes we plan to take to the storage unit tomorrow before the agent comes by to assess the property. The brown couches where Gabby and I shared Chinese food the night before Bradley Banks stormed into our lives are covered with white sheets, and I plop down backward on the loveseat. “I’m famished.”
Gabby falls beside me, tucking her ankle under her leg. “Me too.”
Bradley scratches his stubble. “Let’s go to A.W. Shucks for dinner, then do one of those ghost tours.”
Gabby’s eyes bulge, then her head starts to shake like she’s having a seizure. “I don’t do scary. No way. Sorry.”
Bradley chuckles. “C’mon, it’s just a ghost tour. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She waves her hands. “No freakin’ way. Tell him, Sam.” She does some crazy hand motion. “Tell him about the time I had a panic attack in the haunted house.”
The way Bradley’s watching her is adorable. His eyes are alight with humor. I saw it the first time they met. After all this time, it’s obvious he’s still completely smitten with her. I can’t help but smile at them. The sear of a stare bores into me, and I glance at Ryan, who’s quietly leaning against the door. He’s looking at me like Bradley looks at Gabby, and that scares the shit out of me. I don’t want to string him along, but I also don’t want to be the one to break someone’s heart. I didn’t sign up for that. I signed up to save hearts and souls, not destroy them. My stomach lurches at the mere thought.
Another set of eyes are also on me. Joe’s. He runs a hand through his short hair and glares at Ryan before taking a glimpse back at me. His eyes don’t stay long before they move to the ceiling.
“Tell him, Sam. Help your baby sister out here. I. Can. Not. Do. Ghost. Tours.” She smacks me. “Tell him it’s a medical condition, or something. Just help me. Please.”
I can’t even help myself out of my own pitiful situation. “My freshman year of college, I took Gabby to Gatlinburg with some of my friends. There was a haunted show—like a theater. Gabby asked if anyone touched you or jumped out at you, and they promised her no.” Gabby nods her head vehemently. “The guys smirked, and we all thought they were flirting with her.” Gabby rolls her eyes and shrugs. “Anyway, turns out they weren’t flirting. They were being douches because one of the first things to happen was someone touching Gabby. She started screaming, ‘Get your hands off me. Stop this now. Let me out.’ Then, she started climbing on people’s laps.”
Ryan bellows, and Bradley’s fists clench. His jaw ticks, and I worry he’s about to go postal. Joe is glaring at Ryan, and I have to admit I’m a bit taken aback by Ryan’s reaction. Would he have been one of those guys in college to think it was comical to prey on people like my sister?
“Anyway, eventually we got them to turn the lights on, and they let Gabby leave. Apparently, teenagers jumping on people’s laps is frowned upon.”
“Ya think?” Gabby kicks me with her free leg.
“Hey! Anyway, she was shaken up for the rest of the night. I think she ate a gallon of ice cream.”
“I had two cones. One while y’all were still in the stupid place, and one after you came out. But only because everyone ragged me for not having ice cream since no one knew I’d already drowned my sorrows in a sugar coma.”
“Right. Okay. Two double scoop waffle cones of chocolate chip cookie dough. Safe to say she was traumatized. Clearly, for life. No ghost tours for my baby sister.”
“I
don’t really mind the haunted hayrides.” Gabby’s brows crumple. “I guess that is kinda like a ghost tour, right? My friend John always had one at his Halloween party. They’d just put me in the middle so no one could get to me. I actually ended up with my eyes closed through most of it, though.” She laughs. “One time I hid under a blanket. No one even knew I was in there. That reminds me.” She looks at Bradley. “We need to stop by Stella’s before we leave to go home. I haven’t seen her since the wedding.” John’s mom, Stella, was like a second mother to us. I wonder how she is.
“So are we going on the ghost tour, or not?” Ryan asks.
The door to the hospital staff elevator dings, and I step off, taking a few steps to the residency on-call room. The group of residents replacing Ryan’s rotation nearly stampedes on me as they exit. “Hey, Sam.” Kurt, third year six-foot-six sex god, nods. “Big plans this weekend?”
“Yeah.” I raise an eyebrow. “Y’all?”
They roll their eyes. Charlotte loops her arm around Kurt’s. “We’ve got a few things planned.”
I bet they do. It’s been no secret they’ve been hooking up. Then again, I’m probably the only conquest Kurt hasn’t defeated. If Charlotte had any sense other than book smarts, she’d stay away from him. “Y’all be safe.”
She cackles. “Oh, we will.”
Uh huh.
I hope this trip Bradley has planned is as fun as the Charleston one—grown up decisions aside. When the door closes, another opens, and Ryan’s eyes meet with mine, pulling me into one of the sleeper rooms. His lips crash into mine, and I clumsily brace his arms in the dark. “Hell-o.”
“Hi yourself. I figured you might need some help changing before we leave.”
I hear the door lock, and Ryan starts to plant kisses on my cheek, then behind my ear, and down to my neck. Is it the fact that I’ve just worked thirty-six hours and am physically and emotionally exhausted that this is doing nothing for me? Or is it what I’ve been fearing since October? Who am I kidding? That day in Joe’s bar I knew I was in dangerous territory, but my emotions were all over the place given the news I’d just been delivered. There was no validation in any of those feelings because my mind wasn’t clear. Just like it’s not now. Ryan cups my breast in his hand, and I throw my head back, willing myself to enjoy the release sex with him will give me. Especially sneaky, on-call room sex. Maybe it’s just what I need to get me in the mood for tonight. It’s not exactly easy to shift from trying to control life-threatening situations, then actually living.