Craving Midnight

by A. M. Hargrove

  Midnight grabs my arm and clamps down on Harley with the other. Her eyes dart around the room. “You can’t take her.”

  “It’s okay. They’re going to bring her right back.”

  “No, you don’t understand. The last time they took my baby, it was bad news.” She’s crying now and the nurse tries to take Harley again.

  “You can’t have my baby,” Midnight cries. I’m trying to soothe her, but the nurse won’t leave her alone.

  “We only need to weigh and measure her. After we bathe her we’ll bring her right back to you.”

  The doctor hears the commotion and comes over. “Here, let’s get a quick weight and measurement now. I think the baby will be okay for a little while longer and then maybe Ms. Drake can go with you when you bathe her.”

  “How does that sound, Midnight? You want to bathe the baby with the nurse?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  Another nurse moves in. “I have an idea. We’ll bring everything to your room and bathe the baby there. How’s that?”

  Midnight is still drowsy so she nods. I take Harley and hand her to the nurse so she can weigh her. Maybe by tomorrow, Midnight will be over her panic.

  The nurse hands Harley back and she rests on Midnight’s chest until she falls asleep. About fifteen minutes later, she’s crying and wanting to be fed.

  The nurse, true to her word, brings in everything necessary to bathe Harley and Midnight happily watches them clean her up.

  Harley doesn’t have any issues with latching on. This is Midnight’s first go-round with breastfeeding too. When she had baby Jack, she was so stressed out, she didn’t produce enough milk at first so they had to supplement his feedings in the hospital with formula, and later she wasn’t eating enough to keep up the demand so her milk dried up. That won’t be the case this time.

  I watch the two of them, and it’s more than amazing to see how we created this tiny life. It steals my breath when I think about it.

  All of a sudden, Harley lets out a wail.

  “Guess she didn’t like that.”

  “Like what?” I ask.

  “Being switched to the other side.”

  Once she finds her food source again, she’s a happy little thing. I marvel at them, the lovesick fool that I am. Midnight’s lids droop with exhaustion. I’m amazed she’s even still awake after giving birth. I’d be taking a twelve-hour nap. Pulling out my phone, I take some quick photos. She might want to kill me, but the two of them look absolutely beautiful.

  Being as quiet as I can so I don’t wake up the new mom, I bend down to see if Harley is asleep. Her eyes are slammed shut. This may be tricky, but I gently pick her up and cradle her to my own chest. She makes a tiny squeak, but that’s it. I cover Midnight up with the blanket and sit down in the large recliner, laying the baby on my chest.

  A few hours later, or I think it’s that, a lusty cry awakens both Midnight and me. I jolt with the baby in my arms and realize where I am.

  Midnight sits up in the bed and laughs. “We have a baby, and a loud one at that.”

  “She must take after her mother.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I’ve heard you yell like that a time or two.”

  “Funny. Here, I’ll take her. I bet she’s hungry.”

  “Or maybe a dirty diaper?”

  “Maybe. I’ll let you handle that.”

  I’m instantly squeamish. “Me?”

  “Yep. You need to get used to it. There’ll be plenty of them.”

  Midnight gives me step-by-step instructions and it goes pretty well, until the diaper falls off when I’m done. She falls back on the bed in hysterics.

  “It won’t work.”

  “Make sure that Velcro stuff sticks, dummy.”

  “Shit.”

  “And don’t curse around her.”

  “She’s only a few hours old.”

  “We need to start now.”

  “You’re right. I’ll be better,” I say.

  There’s a knock on the door and a cute elderly lady comes in dragging two carts behind her. They’re loaded down with floral arrangements. “I have deliveries for you. Where shall I put them?”

  “Wherever you can find room, I guess,” I say.

  I read Midnight all the cards. They’re from everyone at the office, Mom and Dad, Weston and Special, and Prescott and Vivi.

  “They’re lovely.”

  “Not as lovely as you. I have something for you.” I dig into the pocket of my jeans.

  “What is it?”

  “Close your eyes.”

  When she does, I hand take her hand and place the ring in her palm. When we got married, I only had a band for her. But today I’m giving her the diamond. It’s a little backward, but what the hell.

  “Harrison, it’s beautiful.”

  “You like it?”

  “I love it.”

  She slides the ring onto her finger. It’s a round diamond but the band is what the jeweler called an eternity ring. I thought that was appropriate for us. “Since I didn’t give you a diamond for our wedding, I thought now would be a good time.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Thank you for our daughter. She’s the greatest gift of all.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t give up on me and walk away when I was such a bitch to you.”

  “How could I? I was craving Midnight too much to do that.” I lean down and press my lips to hers. It’s always the same when I kiss her ... it’s never enough and I’ll always crave more.

  Three Months Later

  * * *

  The cameras flash as we walk down the red carpet, my hand on Harrison’s arm, and we stop every so often to pose and answer questions. I feel like a princess in my designer gown. Initially, I balked at wearing one, but Rita, and my new personal assistant, insisted. They said if I didn’t, I would be a spectacle, and not in a good way.

  When we finally make it into the theater, I’m ready to sit. Thank God I took Rita’s advice about eating something before coming here.

  “This is going to be a long night, filled with lots of talking and alcohol. If you don’t eat, you’ll regret it.” Damn, she was right.

  When we get to the front row, reserved for us, Helen is there, along with the crew from The Solution. Harrison’s parents are present, Rusty (along with a date), and so are Weston and Special, and Prescott and Vivi. Holt and Helen are still together, believe it or not, in an on-again/off-again way.

  Danny and Greg are floating on a cloud because the reviews for this movie are off the charts. Everyone says both Holt and I are shoe-ins for Oscar nominations. I won’t hold my breath. I’m purely excited that the film is being thought of so highly. I have offers coming in right and left. My agent can barely keep up with everything.

  We watch Turned and not a peep can be heard in the theater. In the final scene, when the letter is read, I hear people sobbing, and I’ll admit, I’m one of them. When the credits roll, a thundering applause breaks out. Harrison pulls me to my feet and swings me around in the air. Then Holt does the same, followed by Danny and Greg.

  “I knew you had it. I saw that spark from the start,” Danny says.

  Harrison pulls me close and whispers, “So did I. So did I, Midnight.”

  <<<<>>>>

  About A.M. Hargrove

  One day, on her way home from work as a sales manager, USA Today bestselling author, A. M. Hargrove, realized her life was on fast forward and if she didn't do something soon, it would be too late to write that work of fiction she had been dreaming of her whole life. So she made a quick decision to quit her job and reinvented herself as a Naughty and Nice Romance Author.

  Annie fancies herself all of the following: Reader, Writer, Dark Chocolate Lover, Ice Cream Worshipper, Coffee Drinker (swears the coffee, chocolate, and ice cream should be added as part of the USDA food groups), Lover of Grey Goose (and an extra dirty martini), #WalterThePuppy Lover, and if you're ever around her for more than five minutes
, you'll find out she's a non-stop talker. Other than loving writing about romance, she loves hanging out with her family and binge watching TV with her husband. You can find out more about her books at http://www.amhargrove.com.

  If you want to stay up to date, subscribe to my newsletter here or join Hargrove’s Hangouts on Facebook. And don’t worry about your inbox getting flooded. That won’t happen. In fact, you might wonder where the hell she is.

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  * * *

  Website

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  annie@amhargrove.com

  * * *

  For Other Books by A.M. Hargrove visit www.amhargrove.com

  * * *

  For The Love of English

  A Special Obsession

  Chasing Vivi

  Craving Midnight (November 2017)

  For The Love of My Sexy Geek (A Vault Novella—October 2017)

  * * *

  The Wilde Players Dirty Romance Series:

  Sidelined

  Fastball

  Hooked

  * * *

  A Beautiful Sin

  * * *

  The Cruel and Beautiful Series:

  Cruel and Beautiful

  A Mess of a Man

  One Wrong Choice

  * * *

  The Edge Series:

  Edge of Disaster

  Shattered Edge

  Kissing Fire

  * * *

  The Tragic Series:

  Tragically Flawed, Tragic 1

  Tragic Desires, Tragic 2

  * * *

  The Hart Brothers Series:

  Freeing Her, Book 1

  Freeing Him, Book 2

  Kestrel, Book 3

  The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart

  * * *

  Sabin, A Seven Novel

  * * *

  The Guardians of Vesturon Series

  Bonus Material from HJ Bellus’ New Release The Flight of Hope

  The Flight of Hope

  HJ Bellus

  A tragic accident. A mother in mourning. Can a second chance rise from the wreckage? If you like emotional journeys, strong-willed heroines, and second chance romances, then you’ll love HJ Bellus’ touching tale. Tap the link to buy the book today!

  http://amzn.to/2g8V6TI

  * * *

  Prologue

  There are people. Rows and rows of cars. Black everywhere. I can’t feel my feet as my high heels sink into the grass. My face is numb, as are my fingers. The searing pain burning my insides is alive and well.

  Momma urges me down into a chair draped in velvet. It’s front row. My view? Two caskets with flowers covering every surface. The sweet, floral smell is making so sick; to the point, I clutch my stomach.

  “You okay?” Mom whispers in my ear.

  I shake my head. If I open my mouth, a torrent of emotions will seep out. Sara screams in the background. I peer over my shoulder to see Maddie with tears streaming down her face, trying to soothe her upset toddler. She offers me a comforting smile, but I don’t return it. I can’t stand the sight of Sara, and her cries only infuriate me.

  “Mom, shut that baby up now.”

  “Marlee, that’s enough.” She clutches my hand.

  “Mom.” This time my voice escalates to a scream. “I can’t take it!”

  “Okay. Okay.” Mom rises, and it’s only minutes later until Sara’s cries fade.

  I turn to see the backside of Maddie making her way to the parking lot. She glances back one more time before disappearing behind a row of trees. She’s devastated, but I don’t have it in me to care.

  Silence. Caskets. Flowers.

  The pastor welcomes everyone before the Military Honor begins. A muted bugle starts to play “Taps,” the well-known song for a fallen soldier. I stare at the man in his uniform playing the song. He’s only feet away. The song should be so much clearer, but it’s not. I’m drowning.

  Once the song is over, our country’s beautiful flag is stretched before me and my family. The soldiers are meticulous as they present, fold the flag, and salute. Why couldn’t it have been them? Anyone, but who God chose to take.

  A soldier with bright blue eyes kneels before me. His pristine white glove is on top of the flag. Mom tries to get me to stand, but I refuse to. Dad’s arm wraps around my waist, pulling me to my feet. He keeps me clutched to his side.

  Nightmare after nightmare has played out in my sleep of this scenario and now I’m living it. My knees begin to quake, the effects of the pills wearing off, and I sob. The first, wracking my chest with a brutal force. I can feel my sternum crack under pressure then it becomes hard to breathe. The soldier’s words are barely recognizable.

  “This flag is presented on behalf of a grateful nation and the United States Army, as a token of appreciation for your loved one’s honorable and faithful service.”

  Dad grabs my hand, holding it out to receive the flag. The red, white, and blue material burns my palm. My gut reaction is to let go of it in hopes of making this whole scene disappear. Dad won’t let me. He’s my rock right now.

  ***

  The smell. The sight. Every damn element destroys me to the point it hurts to think about surviving. Once I’m able to pull in oxygen, a brutal force slams into my spine, reminding me of what I had. It was all taken away in a split second. The decision to run a red stoplight unraveled my past, present, and future.

  My life flipped upside down. That doesn’t accurately represent what happened. I died that day. My soul vanished, and my heart quit beating, yet, I’m still alive with blood pumping through my veins, but I was a casualty on the side of the road.

  I had everything, and it was the idyllic American dream. Hell, some would label me as spoiled, and I wouldn’t have argued. It was always my life. I was the center of everyone’s attention. A girl and then a woman who had to be the best at everything no matter the circumstance. I had no friends. I had him. Then he was gone.

  “Birdie, lunch is ready. Your favorite, sweetie, grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

  I peer up to my mom, regretting losing the scent of him once my nose leaves the sheets. His scent is barely there, and all it does is shatter the already broken pieces of my heart. I’m forced to bury my face back into the bed sheets. I do my best to shake my head. She knows I don’t want to eat, but she’s never given up on me.

  Mom has made my favorite meals day after day. Grilled cheese and tomato soup used to make my world spin, and I’d squeal like a little girl. But, then again, I used to love life.

  “Baby girl, you need to eat something.” The bed dips and then her familiar hand soothes trails over my dirty hair.

  I shake my head again. My raw throat is sliced open by agony, making it sore, dripping with pain and blood. I’m unable to speak a word.

  “Here, Birdie.” She nudges my shoulder. “Take these, and when you wake up, I’ll have another meal ready for you.”

  I hold my palm open and hear the crinkle of the water bottle placed next to me on the bed. These three little, white pills have been the only things holding me together. It’s the magic keeping my shell of a body glued. But I’m tired, so sick of being numb, tumbling into slumber, and then springing right back into heartbreak. When the effects of the pills wear off, it’s unbearable to open my eyes. I hear it, smell it, and feel death all over again.

  My chest grips my heart. My vision fills with their caskets we buried in the fertile soil of the earth. The smell of fresh dirt was tearing me apart, and all the while, I sat there and watched their bodies sink down six feet.

  “It’s not fair, Mom. He fought for our country and
then…” It hurts too much to finish my sentence. My words die off like they have since the doctors hit me with the news.

  “I know, Birdie.” Her tender lips pepper kisses all over the side of my exposed face. “You have to push on, baby girl; so many love and need you. You’ll always have us. Always.”

  I remain silent, waiting for her to leave the room. The pills roll around in my palm. The silent clinking of them screams to the point of gifting me with a migraine.

  It’s at this moment I decide I can’t stay here. I don’t belong here any longer. The place I called home for so many years and then built a future with my husband doesn’t belong to me anymore. I’m a foreign stranger trapped in the confines of a house.

  The pills fall without sound to the sheets. I take one long inhale of his scent, branding it to memory forever. I’ll never ever forget the man who was my first love and my only love who gave me everything. He was and always will be my best friend. No one will ever replace his force. It’s too painful to stay. Death is screaming my name and clawing for my soul.

  One slit of the wrist with the sharp edge of my fishing knife or a forceful stab to the heart. That’s what I want. I hunger for the blood to drain from my body until my heart ceases. I won’t have time to bleed out in peace before someone barges in, checking on me. My parents and his parents are enduring the same kind of hell I’m stuck in. I can’t put them through more pain, but I can’t breathe here. It’s too damn much.

  I have one option.

  Run and never come back to my personal hell.

  I take his shirt and the bag next to our bed and do just that, never looking back again.

  Sorry, Mom.

  Download The Flight of Hope on Amazon

  http://amzn.to/2xz2e2V