Solid Ground: a Wounded Love novel

by Megan Green

  I lean back against the wall, pounding my head on it over and over as I listen. “He fucking beats her, Chief. What was I supposed to do? Just let him keep doing it?”

  “Look, Roberts, between you and me, you didn’t do anything that motherfucker didn’t deserve. I’ve wanted to lock up that slimy bastard for years. But his pockets are deep and lined with government cocksuckers. I haven’t been able to get anything to stick to him. He’s smoother than a goddamn silk nightie. But that doesn’t mean you can just show up and beat the shit out of him in broad daylight.”

  “I didn’t. I mean, I went over there. And, yeah, maybe I slugged him once. But it was in the gut. I didn’t touch his damn face or his fucking arm. At most, I knocked the wind out of him. So, anything else he said is a lie,” I tell him.

  “He’s got witnesses, Joe. Two neighbors claim they saw you attack him, unprovoked, and then you left him in a bloody pile on his stoop.”

  “That’s a goddamn lie!” I shout, earning the concerned and irritated glances from the hospital staff in the hallway. I shoot them an apologetic look, raising my hand in a sheepish wave. “Chief, I swear to you, I didn’t hurt him. I just scared him a little. I wanted him to know that I’m not going to stand idly by while he thinks he can get away with hurting Nichole. That’s it.”

  “That might be. And I’m not saying I don’t believe you. But I’m afraid my hands are tied on this one. You’re on suspension, pending the results of an internal affairs investigation. I’m sorry, Joey.”

  His words are sincere, and I can tell it pains him to do this during such a crucial time for the force. We’ve got a shit-ton of work to do, trying to find the asshole dealer. Losing a man right now is devastating to the investigation. But it doesn’t change the fact that it has to happen. It also doesn’t change the fact that it fucking pisses me off.

  Chief disconnects the call, and I pull the phone away from my ear, staring at the dark screen for a moment, my teeth set on edge and my heart hammering in my chest.

  I need to get out of here. I need to get some air and calm down before I lose my cool.

  I walk briskly down the hall, the glass doors of the entrance coming into view after a few quick turns. I have to step to the side to allow a wheelchair to pass, and when I do, I walk straight into a metal garbage can, the sharp edge digging into my thigh. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s enough to set me off. My leg punches out, kicking the side of the trash can so hard that it flies across the hallway.

  “Fuck!” I scream, chasing after the shiny bin. I kick it over and over again, unleashing every inch of my frustration onto the thing, my words so jumbled as I curse that even I can’t make out what I’m saying.

  But I don’t give a fuck.

  In my head, this fucking can is a real piece of garbage.

  In my head, I’m kicking the shit out of James Reynolds.

  Joey Roberts might be an angel sent from heaven, but at this very moment, he’s driving me up the fucking wall.

  “No, no,” he says, leaning forward and halting my movement as I attempt to get off the couch, “I’ll get it.”

  He stands, gently pushing me back onto the couch. I slump, my lower lip jutting out in a pout. Joey laughs softly as he moves to the kitchen to get the drink I was about to go in search of.

  And it’s been like that for the past week since the day Joey picked me up outside the hospital doors and brought me to his house. Now that James knows where I’ve been living, Joey said there was no way in hell he was letting me go back there. At first I was relieved, not really wanting to go back to the apartment that is now tainted with James.

  But, right now, I’d kill for a few moments of solitude. Don’t get me wrong; I appreciate everything Joey has done and is still doing for me and Cade. He’s truly been a godsend. But, if he doesn’t stop treating me like an invalid because of a tiny break in my collarbone, I’m going to fucking scream.

  Over the past week, he hasn’t let me do a single thing for myself. I can’t cook, I can’t clean, and I can’t get up and grab something from the kitchen. Hell, he barely even lets me feed myself. It’s sweet; it really is. And it feels good to have someone who wants to constantly dote on me, not wanting me to experience an ounce more of pain than I need to.

  But it’s aggravating. He’s been this way since that last day in the hospital, the one where Amber came and told me that Joey had been escorted from the premises and would not be allowed back in. He’d been banned from the hospital. I didn’t even know they could do that. But, apparently, if you attack an innocent garbage can, spewing curse words and scaring the sick and the afflicted, they’ll make an exception.

  Amber winked at me though as she told me how hot it was to watch Joey going all caveman on that hunk of metal. “That man has muscles I didn’t even know existed. And don’t worry about the restriction. It won’t stick. Next week, someone else will do something equally or even more outrageous, and everyone will move their focus over to that. It’s a hospital. Emotions run high here.”

  Her words soothed me slightly, but I still felt guilty as hell over Joey being suspended. Because of me. He’d have never been at James’s place if it weren’t for me. And, even though I believed Joey when he said he hadn’t hurt James and that James was fabricating the whole thing—because, let’s face it, James isn’t exactly the most trustworthy person—I know it’s going to be one hell of a fight and a whole lot of time wasted trying to prove his innocence. Joey told me that, when it came to internal affairs investigations, you were guilty until proven innocent, not the other way around. It didn’t seem fair to me that Joey was being punished for defending me. But he told me he wouldn’t change a thing.

  This was after he’d calmed down, of course. Judging by the mangled mess that had formerly been a trash bin, I’d say he had been a bit pissed off when he first found out. But, now, a week into his paid leave, he’s thrilled at the fact that he gets to spend all day with me, waiting on me hand and foot.

  He saunters back into the room, the bottle of water I asked for in one hand and a bag of potato chips in the other. He flops back onto the couch, pulling my legs across his lap, and he tears into the bag.

  I watch in irritation as he loudly smacks his lips, shoveling in chip after chip, not bothering to close his mouth to chew. I’m about to berate him, telling him that even Cade has better manners than that, when he turns to me and grins.

  “Can I just say, until this past week, I had no idea what I was missing? You and Cade being here has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’d thought I might miss my ‘freedom,’ you know? My ‘independence,’” he says, his fingers curving into quotations around the words. “But you know what? The only regret I have is not doing this sooner. I should’ve moved your asses in here months ago. So, if this is what dependence feels like, sign me up. Whenever you aren’t next to me, I feel like a junkie, just aching for my next fix, for that sweet relief that only a hit of my drug of choice can provide. You’re my drug, Nichole. You and that charming kid of yours. And I don’t ever want to get clean.”

  His words leave tears in my eyes, my thoughts jumbling between feeling like the biggest bitch in the world for my thoughts two minutes ago and feeling like the luckiest woman on earth. Because, Joey Roberts, he’s one in a million.

  I pull his face to mine, peppering his lips and cheeks with kisses. He laughs against me, wrapping his arms tenderly around my waist and pulling me onto his lap.

  “Well, jeez, if I’d known all I had to do was throw a little sweet talk your way and you’d turn into a puddle of goo under my fingers, I’d have done this ages ago. I bet you’re like this with all the boys, aren’t ya?” He laughs as he says the words, his tone light and humorous.

  But I pull back, intently staring at him. “No, Joey. Never for anyone else. Only you. It’s always only been you.”

  His eyes flash, and his lips crash down on mine, his hands frenzied and gentle at the same time. They skirt delicately past my injured collar and
skim lightly over the bruises marring my flesh. But they’re on my face, my breasts, my stomach, my legs, my back…seemingly all at the same time. It’s overwhelming, his touch leaving a trail of fire wherever it goes. It’s not long until my entire body becomes engulfed in flames, begging for the dousing presence only Joey can provide.

  He slowly makes love to me, carefully handling me, so as not to upset my wounds.

  And, as I watch him rock against me, I’m hit with the sudden realization that I do not deserve this man. I don’t deserve the love he so freely gives me. I don’t deserve the complete adoration that exists in his eyes as he moves inside me. And I definitely don’t deserve the happiness he causes with each and every touch of his hand and the smile on his face. I don’t deserve any of it, not after everything I put him through in the past and am continuing to put him through in the present.

  But, staring into his eyes as he thrusts into me, his lips telling me over and over how much he loves me, I realize that, no matter how much I don’t deserve this, no matter how much better Joey can do than me, I do not care. Because this? This very moment? This is everything. And I refuse to give it up without a fight.

  I come fast and hard, love filling my heart and determination swelling in my soul. Joey follows right behind me, collapsing against me with a strangled moan. When he finishes, he pulls me onto his chest, so we can snuggle. I had never been much for snuggling. But, after Joey admitted it was his favorite part of sex—with me anyway—I warmed up to it pretty damn quick. Lying naked against his bare chest sure as hell isn’t the worst place to be.

  He repeatedly smooths his hand over my hair, his content sighs the only sounds in the otherwise silent room.

  Deciding to get this over with now, before I can overthink it and back out, I prop myself up onto my elbow, my fingers tangling in my hair as I stare down at him. “So, I was thinking…”

  He laughs. “Well, that’s a dangerous scenario.”

  I playfully bite his collarbone. “Asshole. But, seriously, I was thinking…” I trail off again, but this time, it’s nerves that cause my silence instead of me just trying to make sure I have his attention.

  He stares up at me, a slight smile on his face as he waits. “Okay…so you were thinking…” he prompts.

  God, am I really going to do this? What if he laughs in my face? Or tells me I’m crazy and kicks me out of his house? My heart hammers in my chest as every worst-case scenario I could possibly imagine runs through my head.

  Joey traces his fingers up the outside of my arm, causing gooseflesh to prickle all over my body. I shiver against him, my thoughts temporarily distracted from my inner turmoil.

  “What is it, Nic? You can tell me.”

  Fuck it. This is Joey.

  Even if he does think I’m completely crazy, he’ll never actually tell me that. I’ve been living my life in fear of others’ expectations and reactions for far too damn long. It’s time I do something for me. Because I want to. Repercussions be damned.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I spit it out, “Joey Roberts, will you marry me?”

  His eyes narrow in confusion, his mouth briefly dropping open before snapping shut. He stumbles over his words for a moment, making various sounds and grunts as he tries to sort out his thoughts. Finally, his hands come to rest on my cheeks, and his brows draw together, his gaze heavy. “You’re serious?”

  I swallow thickly, giving just the slightest nod of my head. My tongue suddenly feels swollen, my mouth completely devoid of all moisture. I couldn’t speak if I tried.

  His eyes dart back and forth over my face briefly before the tiniest hint of amusement ignites behind them. Then, he laughs in my face.

  Son of a bitch.

  Suddenly, my voice comes back, and embarrassment takes over. I shove myself off him, wincing as my shoulder cries out in protest. “A simple no would’ve sufficed,” I bite out. Hurt floods through me, both physical and emotional, my body feeling weak as I try to get to my feet.

  Joey grabs me from behind and plants me on the couch next to him. Rolling himself up off the couch, he points a finger in my face. “Wait right here,” he says before turning and walking out of the room.

  I stand, trying to maneuver myself into my clothes while he’s gone. I might not have anywhere to go at the moment, but I’m not going to sit here, naked, while Joey packs my shit or whatever it is he’s doing in the other room and then beg him to let me sleep on the couch one more night until I can figure something out.

  He’s back in the living room before I have even half of my shirt on.

  “What are you doing?” he asks, his tone comical.

  It’s not exactly easy, trying to put a long-sleeved shirt on when one of your arms is in a sling. My free arm is partially through one sleeve, but I haven’t been able to pull the damn thing down over my head. Joey has been helping me dress every morning this week. So, I can only imagine what I must look like.

  I sink onto the couch in defeat. There’s no way I can get out of this stupid shirt without his help. So, I might as well surrender now. Hopefully, he’ll help me dress before trying to kick me out.

  I feel him sit next to me, his hands making quick work of the shirt.

  But he doesn’t pull it down. He pulls it off.

  I open my mouth in protest, shocked to find him still naked.

  What the hell? Is he going to kick me out while he’s in the buff?

  But, of course, he doesn’t. Instead, he sinks down on the floor before me, a small black box appearing in the palm of his hand.

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  “Nichole, I’ve loved you from the second I first saw you on that playground. From that day forward, I knew my life would never be the same. And, while I was waiting for the perfect moment to do this, I knew the second you walked back into my life that this was where it would lead. But, since you’re impatient and you decided to beat me to it, I guess now is as good a time as any. So, yes, Nichole Hadley, I will marry you. But only if you’ll agree to marry me, too.”

  My hands fly to my mouth as I laugh. “Oh my God. This might be the most awkward proposal in the history of proposals. We’re both naked. Two seconds ago, I was convinced you were going to kick me out, only to find out now that I’ve beaten you to the punch. And I don’t even have a ring.”

  He pulls my hands from my face, placing the ring at the end of my fourth finger on my left hand. “Well, I told you I was trying to come up with the perfect proposal. But patience has never been one of your strong suits. Figures you’d go and do something like this. Now, are you going to answer me or what?”

  I smile. “Two proposals in the span of five minutes. That has to be some kind of record.”

  He shoots me a pointed look, clearing his throat as he wiggles the ring against my finger. “I’m waiting.”

  I slide my finger into the ring. “There was never even a question,” I say. Leaning forward, I press my lips to his. “You sure you’re ready for all this? Marriage? Fatherhood? I know we’ll have to wait a while. I mean, I’m technically still married. So, you’ve got plenty of time to change your mind.”

  He shakes his head, moving onto the couch next to me. “Not going to happen. I’m a soldier, babe. I was born ready.”

  “I think that’s the Boy Scouts,” I say playfully.

  “Nah, those little shits are all about preparation. I don’t need preparation. I’m ready. I’m ready for it all.”

  I sigh, leaning back into him as he wraps his arms around me.

  Life couldn’t be any more perfect.

  I’m standing in front of the frozen section at the supermarket, debating between the carton of peanut butter cup ice cream in my left hand and the cookie dough ice cream in my right, when it happens. The sharp trill of my phone sounds from my purse. Looking back at the cartons, I decide I only live once and toss them both into my cart. Going in search of my phone, the overhead light glints off the new diamond on my left hand, and I can’t help but sm
ile like a fool.

  Joey Roberts is going to be my husband.

  I’ve been unable to stop marveling over that fact for the past three days since it happened. Even now, standing in the supermarket as I root around for my phone in my purse, I’m unable to resist the overwhelming sense of happiness that floods over me just at the thought of spending the rest of my life with Joey. A man who loves me. A man who would never hurt me. And, most importantly, a man who adores my son.

  I was nervous to tell Cade. I wasn’t sure how he’d react. But Joey insisted we tell him together, and soon. So, the next morning, we all sat down together at the kitchen table, Cade shoveling cereal into his mouth as he glanced back and forth between us. And, before either of us had a chance to say the words, he dropped his spoon and stared at us with shock.

  “Are you guys getting married or something?”

  I glanced down at my left hand, checking for the ring I was certain I’d taken off before leaving my bedroom. Ensuring my finger was bare, I looked back at him, my mouth pulling into a small frown.

  “How—” I started to speak but was cut off by Joey.

  “Would that be okay with you, little dude?” he tentatively asked Cade.

  Cade smiled mischievously, his eyes narrowing into slits as he eyed the both of us. “I don’t know, Mom. Are you sure you can’t marry Iron Man? He’d be a much cooler dad.”

  Joey slid out of his chair and swung Cade up and over his shoulder, and his loud giggles filled the room.

  “I’ll show you cool, mister,” Joey said as he tickled Cade, his face reddening with laughter and exertion right along with Cade’s.

  I smiled at the both of them, loving the easy relationship they’d developed without a single prod from me.

  My boys got along great.

  My boys…

  I loved the sound of those two words together. And, looking back up at the two of them, I realized just how true those words were.