Unexpected Gift

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Unexpected Gift Page 12

by Lively, R. S.


  “Molly!” He snaps his fingers in front of me, yanking me out of my amazing day dream because it is ten times better than reality.

  I clear my throat and bend down to grab my cardigan. “Sorry, I zoned out for a second.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine; I’m just tired. Posie didn’t sleep well last night, so that meant I didn’t sleep well. It’s fine, though. Don’t you have a brain to cut into or something tonight?” I cover myself up with my sweater, hiding my cleavage. There is a lot of it in this tank top, and I don’t feel comfortable showing it since my nipples are hard, begging to be squeezed. It isn’t from him or how good he smelt; it is because of the wind.

  Yep. The wind.

  “Nope, not tonight. I have the next three days off. I can’t wait.”

  Crap. “Oh, yeah. That will be great. You’ll need to catch up on sleep or something.” I scratch the side of my arm.

  He bends down and picks up Posie. The porch groans under his weight as he turns around and goes back inside with the car seat.

  I still can’t believe we live here. And I can’t believe he bought this house for everyone. It is so beautiful that it is hard to believe that I get to live in it. “Do you want some tea? I’m going to put the kettle on.”

  “Sure. That would be great, thanks.” He picks Posie up and sits in the recliner, laying her down on his chest.

  There he goes again, making it really hard to dislike him. The more I try, the more I fail. He kisses Posie’s head and rubs her back. She yawns and coos before snuggling into his chest and falling asleep. He is so damn good with her, and it makes it even harder to fight the feelings.

  I fill the kettle up with water, placing it on the stove. As the water heats, I walk into the living room and sit down on the oversized leather couch. “So, tell me about your week. How have you been? How is work?”

  He yawns and shrugs one shoulder. His hand never stops rubbing her back. “Honestly? It was the roughest week of my life.”

  A whistle rings through the air quicker than I thought it would, startling me. I place my hand to my chest, feeling the fast race of my heart against my sternum.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, that just scared me is all. Let me make our tea, and I’d love to hear about your week.” Right? Friends do this. I can talk about work and ask how he is. We have a lifetime of Posie, so we might as well be friends.

  “Sure, thanks.”

  I take a deep breath as I pour the steaming, hot water in the mugs. I follow it with honey and stir, leaving the bags seeping in the heated liquid. I tie the string to the handle and go back into the living room, placing his tea on the nightstand beside him.

  “Thank you.”

  “It isn’t a problem.” I pucker my lips and blow the steam from mine, trying to cool it down. I snag a soft blanket and sit on the couch, covering myself. I blow on the tea again and sip. It is still too hot. “So why was this week the worst?”

  “Ah, you don’t want to hear me complain.”

  I bring the steaming-hot mug to my lips and smile. “I really do. I can’t imagine what it is like to be a brain doctor. It’s just bandaids, right?”

  “Something like that,” he nods, but doesn’t smile or laugh, and I feel like I insulted him.

  I gather my hair in my hand and sling over my right shoulder. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like your job isn’t hard. I was just kidding. I really couldn’t imagine being a neurosurgeon, Caden. Your job is very commendable.”

  He nearly chokes on his tea and places the mug down. “No, god no. I didn’t think you did. I lost a patient this week is all. It’s been tough dealing with it.” He pinches his eyes closed, rubbing his free hand over his face.

  My heart breaks for him. I know I couldn’t do a job that put someone else’s life in my hands. That took someone special. “I’m so sorry, Caden. What happened? If I can ask that.”

  He sighs as he leans his head back against the soft cushion of the recliner. “ I got paged to the emergency room for a patient that had been in a car accident with a severe head trauma. Once I got down there, I was stunned. I mean, I knew saving the guy would be a long shot. A part of his skull was missing. I could literally see his brain pulsating and swelling by the second the longer I stood there. He had a bad brain bleed, and by the time I finally got to it, it was too late. He had a wife and three kids. He was someone’s brother, someone’s son, someone’s husband. I felt like I took all of that from them.”

  “Caden, you can’t really think that. You did everything you could.”

  “Did I? What did I do? I got there too late. If I didn’t tell a nurse to check on one of my other patients, I could have been there sooner.”

  I run my fingers through the ends of my hair, feeling the soft ends. “And that would have been, what? A few seconds at best? Do you really think a few seconds could have really mattered with those injuries? Think about it.”

  “No, a few seconds wouldn’t have mattered. He would have died any way, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t have tried. I could have done more.”

  I wonder if his guilt is misplaced. Maybe he thinks this patient was Brandon. “You can’t save everyone that gets into a car accident, Caden.”

  Even from the couch, I see his throat bob as he swallows. He stares down at Posie, who is sleeping peacefully on his chest. “I could try.”

  “That’s an impossible goal. You can’t put that on yourself.”

  “Why not, Molly? I wasn’t there for my best friend when he died. He had a head trauma. A fucking brain injury. The irony of that astounds me. If he lived in Billings and went to the hospital there, I could have saved him.”

  “Maybe,” I whisper, running my fingers over the edge of the mug.

  “What?”

  “I said, maybe. You don’t know that. You shouldn’t hold all this guilt. I would have loved for you to save him, for someone to save the both of them and Posie wouldn’t be without parents right now. I wouldn’t be without my brother, and you’d still have your best friend, but the world doesn’t work like that. I don’t blame you. No one blames you. The only person that is blaming themselves is you, Caden. And you don’t deserve that. You are an excellent doctor.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  I tap my fingers against the mug again, internally fighting if I want to show him my deepest darkest secret. “I do, know that actually.” I get up from the couch and stretch, one of my sweater sleeves falls off my shoulder. Caden’s eyes go to the patch of skin showing, and I hide it with my hair. “I’ll be right back.” I walk to the bedroom that is on the main floor, his is on the top. The further away from him I can be in this house, the better. My body starts to betray me at night, and I don’t want him to hear it.

  “Journals, journals…” I search for the box that holds all of my scrapbooks and dairies. Most everything is unpacked already, but there are a few stray boxes that will probably stay there for a few months. I hate unpacking, and I have reached my limit. “Ah! Bingo.” I open the box and pull out a large black scrapbook that has a thin layer of dust on it. I made it, but I hardly ever open it to look at it.

  My plan was to give it to Brandon in a few years. I tried to keep track of all his and Caden’s accomplishments. I never liked the guy, but he was Brandon’s best friend, so I wanted him to have something with the person he shared the journey with. I rub my finger along the picture of the two them on graduation day from medical school. Inside, I have done way too much research to see how great they really were at their jobs. It was a lot of checking the hospital records and annoying Brandon about their days.

  “You can do this,” I say to myself, holding the book to my chest. I never planned on letting Caden see it, but he needs a pick-me-up. This can go one out of two ways. Either he will love it or think I am a stalker. I’m really not. I was just trying to do something sweet from my brother. I clasp it to my chest like my life depends on it, and I walk back out to the living room, but my h
umility is saved when I see he has fallen asleep. Hopefully, he won’t remember this.

  Now that I really look at him, he has dark circles around his eyes. Posie rises and falls in harmony with the rise of his chest. I pick her up and place her in her crib that I have in my room. She will wake up in an hour for some milk. I kiss her forehead and make my way back to the living room and grab a blanket, throwing it over him.

  My urges get the best of me and before I can stop myself, I reach for his hair. I’ve always wanted to feel it. Is it as thick as it looks? Or as soft? I pause when he moves, snuggling into the blanket. I let out a breath, hoping he doesn’t wake up. That will be so embarrassing.

  My fingers tangle themselves around the brown strands. The ends curl slightly from the natural wave he has in his hair. The strands are like silk, running through my fingers effortlessly, without tangling. My thumb rubs over the apple of his cheek. His stubble scratches the pad of my finger, he looks wrecked, but his beauty is still there, and I am touching him.

  I stare at my hand like it has a mind of its own. Oh my god, I touched his hair and face with appreciation. “What is wrong with me?” I whisper, running to my room and throwing myself on the bed. My hand tingles, my nerves are on fire from touching him, and my mind immediately wonders what my entire body would feel like against his.

  I snatch the pillow from beside me and put it over my face, screaming all my frustrations in the feathers until I can’t breathe.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Caden

  The scent of oranges invades my lungs, wrapping around my body and my aching shaft. Her blonde hair tickles my chest as she kisses down my torso, licking and nipping the ridges of my abs. Her hands cup my balls, squeezing and rolling them in her palms as she teases my skin with her soft, velvet lips.

  “Fuck, Molly,” I groan in the shower, stroking my cock to the thought of her going down on me. I punch the wall and shut my eyes, imagining that the water draping over my body is her fingers exploring my flesh.

  I shouldn’t be doing this. I shouldn’t be thinking about her, but every time I shut my eyes and try to conjure up someone else−−anyone else−−the body I think of morphs into Molly and her face replaces the imaginary one.

  The water is not the perfect lubricant, but I make it work. At the very least, it flows through my fist with ease. The steam from the hot water stands heavy in my throat as I breathe in, nearly suffocating from the heat. My sweat combines with the water dripping down my temples. My hair strands fall in front of my face as I stare at my hard cock. The red tip leaks precome and the veins bulge, begging for release and pleading with me to soak Molly’s channel, but that isn’t really an option available to me right now.

  My balls pull tight at the thought of her sweet mouth wrapping around my cock. “Molly!” I scream. My entire body strains as I unload onto the wall in front of me. I slam my fist against the tiled wall yet again, my body quivering from the much-needed release. “Fuck,” I say as I choke on a moan, rubbing my face with my clean hand.

  What the hell is wrong with me? I wonder to myself.

  I wake up in a jolt after what I had thought was real life. Before my eyes opened so suddenly, Molly was running her hand through my hair, but when I don’t see anyone in front of me, I realize it was all in my head. When I get up, the clock says that it's two in the morning, so I go and check on Posie. I figure she's in Molly’s room, and when I open the door, Molly’s orange scent slams into me. I walk into her room and take a few heavy breaths, thinking about how badly I want her with every step I take. I want all of her. I need all of her.

  The dull light of the lamp next to her bed is making her skin glow. One leg is draped over the covers and that visual is causing my cock to stand up in full mast. Her flawless legs are bare, and my eyes zero in on her little black pair of panties. It takes every ounce of self-control not to lay beside her and run my hand up the curve of her calves, until I can palm her ass in my hands.

  My cock is so hard that it's starting to burn, at which point I decide to run out of there. I take three steps at a time until I'm in my room. I lock the door, and for the rest of the night, I toss and I turn, unable to sleep due to my aching erection.

  So here I am, cleaning my come off the wall of the shower. “Damn it,” I say as I squeeze some shampoo into the palm of my hand and start washing my hair. My cock still aches for her−−hard and wanting, like I didn’t just come. I tilt my head back against the wall and shut my eyes. I feel guilty for wanting her, especially because of Brandon.

  I can’t do this to him, but I don’t know how much longer I can go on pretending there is nothing between Molly and I. Particularly because my cock has never been this hard in my entire life. I wrap my hand around the engorged shaft, desperately needing to get rid of this ache in my balls.

  “Caden!” Molly knocks on my bathroom door.

  I release my cock and look for something to cover myself up with. Right, a towel. “Uh, give me a second.” I turn the knobs until the water shuts off and run my hand through the wet strands, getting the excess water out of it. I snag the towel off the hook and wrap it around my waist.

  I do something I haven’t done since I was a teenager and look at myself in the mirror. I make sure the towel is secure before I step toward the door. My shaft is still hard, but maybe I shouldn’t be shy about that. I mean, I was in the shower…minding my own business. What I do in privacy is my business. I have nothing to be ashamed of.

  The corners of my mouth tilt in a smirk, but it falls flat when I open the door, seeing a very worried Molly staring at Posie. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

  She turns her gaze to me and her eyes widen. She rakes me up and down and stares at the erection tenting the towel. “Um, I can come back when you’re dressed, it isn’t a big deal.” She bounces Posie on her hip.

  “Hey, no. What’s going on? Is Posie, okay?” I take a step forward and she steps back. A rose-colored hue graces her cheeks as she stares at me. She feels something toward me too, but the main concern right now is Posie.

  “I…umm,” she starts to say but she pauses to clear her throat. “I don’t know. She feels warm, and she hasn’t kept her milk down this morning. I’m worried. Are you trained in examining people or do you only work on brains? I don’t know. I’m freaking out. I’ve never had a sick baby before. What do we do?” Her eyes fill with tears and this time, she doesn’t look at my naked chest. My erection deflates quickly with the tears streaming down her face.

  “No. Neuro is just a specialty. I was trained in general and did rounds in pediatrics. I can help.”

  She lets out a breath and nods, kissing the side of Posie’s head. “Okay. Thank you.”

  “She is going to be fine. Babies get sick. It’s probably just the stomach flu. Meet me in the living room. I’ll be down in two minutes.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Molly.”

  She stares at me with her big brown eyes, red-rimmed and swollen.

  “She will be okay. I promise.”

  The flawless skin of her throat moves when she swallows. My lips want to lavish her flesh and mark her canvas as mine. My eyes wander slowly to her face again, memorizing every angle of her face. She holds Posie close and rushes down the steps.

  When she is out of sight, I let out a breath and lean against the door to gather my thoughts. She came to me. Did she only come to me because I am a doctor or because she trusts me? I want it to be the latter. I use my leg to push myself from the door and go to my room, letting the towel fall on the floor. After putting on a T-shirt and loose gym shorts, I grab my medical kit and run down the steps.

  Posie lets out a loud wail and Molly stands there in tears, unsure of what to do. She seems frustrated that she doesn’t know how to make things better for Posie. It shouldn’t and I’m not proud of it, but it turns me fucking on the way she cares for our niece. I hate the tears, but the motherly instincts are hitting Molly full force, and my body responds to her need to
be a mother.

  “It’s getting worse, Caden. She is burning up.”

  “Let me see her.” I hold out my arms, and she tightens her embrace. She doesn’t seem to want to let go. “Molly, it will be okay. I can’t help if you don’t give her to me.”

  She kisses Posie’s forehead and hands her over. I smile at my grumpy little girl with red cheeks and big, fat alligator tears streaming down her face. “Hey, you. Does someone not feel good? Let’s make you better, huh? What do you say?” I tickle her stomach to see if she laughs, but she cries louder. “Okay. Okay. We got you.” I lay her down on the couch and open my kit to get the thermometer out.

  “What are you doing?” Molly asks and kneels beside the couch, running her hand over Posie’s head to comfort her.

  “Just checking her temp. She feels warm, but I’d like an exact number.” I glide the device over her forehead, and it beeps, reading one hundred degrees right on the dot. “One hundred isn’t horrible, but something is going on.” I check her skin for any rashes, even take off her diaper to see if she has a diaper rash that possibly got infected, but nothing.

  I get out my stethoscope and check her heart rate. Her lungs are clear and loud. I smile with relief.

  “What? Why are smiling? This isn’t a good thing, Caden.”

  I tape her diaper back in place and sling the scope over my neck. “I’m smiling because this one seems to have gotten a little stomach bug. I’d bet anything. Tomorrow if her fever is high, we will take her to the hospital.”

  “Well, she hasn’t slept well. What do we do? We don’t have any kind of medicine. I think she is too young for it.”

  “I have something in the cabinet that my parents used to give me during times like this.” My knees crack as I stand, making me feel much older than thirty-four. “You might not agree with it.”

  “I’ll try anything.”

  I open the cabinet and grabbed the bottle of whiskey, slamming the cabinet door with my foot.

 

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