“Do tell, then.”
“I’ll be happy to,” he said. “Tonight, in the cab on the way there.”
CHAPTER NINE
SCARLET ENTERED LEWIS’S condo after their Saturday night date, glad she’d decided to go. He’d promised her a fantasy evening and he’d delivered, a delicious dinner at an upscale restaurant where they were treated like royalty, a private violin serenade at their hidden table, a romantic dance to the melodic notes from a baby grand piano, a rose from a street vendor. All capped off by a horse drawn carriage ride under the stars in Central Park.
They’d walked hand in hand and whispered secret cravings, shared tender touches and sweet kisses.
“I had a wonderful time tonight,” she said.
“The fantasy doesn’t have to end yet.” An accomplished charmer, he held out his hand palm up in invitation.
Scarlet took it and allowed herself to be led to his bedroom, a decision she’d made while in his arms during the carriage ride. Tomorrow she would return to reality and responsibility. Tonight she’d live out the rest of the fantasy, pretend he cared for her as much as she cared for him, and savor each moment they shared as if it were her last, because come next week, when she, hopefully, brought Joey home, there wouldn’t be room in her life for a man for quite a while.
Without turning on the light in his room he turned to her, removed her hairclip, sending her hair falling around her neck and shoulders, and combed his fingers down to her scalp to position her head up and at a slight angle. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do this?”
He crushed his mouth to hers and thrust his tongue between her lips over and over. He varied his kisses, alternating between deep and universe-altering, and gentle and loving. Scarlet’s knees felt weak. “Yes,” she said against his lips.
He lifted his head allowing maybe an inch of space between them. “Yes, what?” he whispered.
“Whatever you want to do next, my answer is yes.”
He chuckled as he worked to unbutton her blouse. “I want to make love to you.” His task complete he pushed it off of her shoulders and it dropped to the floor. “Slow.” He kissed down the side of her neck while he unclasped her bra. “Passionate.” He tugged it down her arms and kissed down her breast. “Unforgettable.” He reached her nipple, circled it with his tongue, and drew it into his mouth, sending a spear of overwhelming sensation straight to her womb. “Love.” He blew cool air on her wet skin and she trembled.
“Sounds good to me.” So good. The fantasy continued. She unbuttoned his shirt, tugged it off, and reached for his belt.
“Maybe you missed the slow part.” He pulled her into a hug, bare skin to bare skin, so warm and strong.
She grabbed his butt and ground against his growing erection. “Maybe you’d consider a slightly faster version of slow?”
He rocked into her, his breathing a little heavier, a little quicker.
Good.
She reached for his belt again, this time he let her. And while she finished undressing him, he undressed her, and neither went slow.
He led her to the bed. “Tonight I am going to acquaint myself with every inch of your body.”
Every inch of her body thought that was a fantastic idea.
He did something to his bedding. “Lie down in the middle,” he kept his voice low and deep. “On your back with your arms over your head and your legs spread wide for me.”
She loved the dominant side of his nature that emerged in his bedroom. Yet he’d relinquished control in the closet. Once in position Scarlet waited, listening but only hearing quiet, looking but only seeing darkness, feeling the cool air blowing from the central air. Her nipples tightened, her sex throbbed, and her skin tingled with anticipation. When would he come to her? Where would he start? What would he do?
A drawer opened to her left then closed. The mattress dipped as Lewis joined her on the bed. He ran his hands along her body, opening her legs wider, moving her arms so she was spread out like a starfish.
While he didn’t slide his tongue over every inch of her body, he got to most of them, saving the best for last she hoped. Yes! He set his mouth where she ached with need, and arousal surged, her hips rocked and swiveled. “That feels so good.”
“Slow,” he said.
“Sorry, that word isn’t registering.” She reached down and tried to pull him on top of her. “I need you inside me. Now. Please.”
He reached for something, a wrapper tore. He went up on his knees then settled on top of her. So. Good. She bent her knees and hugged him close, felt him at her entrance, teasing in little dips in and out.
As if he knew she was about to belt out a complaint he kissed her and thrust deep. “Yes,” she moaned against his lips.
“I love being inside of you.”
Love. Not love love, but she’d take it. “I love having you inside of me.”
He began to move, in and out in slow, even strokes
“You smell so good, feel so good.” He kissed her again and moved along her cheek to her ear. “So special,” he whispered, still thrusting in and out. “So…perfect.”
He made her feel more cherished and more loved than all of her past boyfriends combined. Scarlet would never forget this night.
She planted her feet on the bed and raised her hips up to meet him, quickened the pace and he took over. Soon she couldn’t talk, couldn’t think, could only feel, Lewis’s weight pressing her into the bed, his body filling hers, the heat, the intense need, rising, growing, taking over, until he sent them both flying.
The next morning, Scarlet came awake cuddled into Lewis’s side, her head resting on his arm, the residual contentment from their repeated lovemaking leaving her limp. “Mmmmmm.” She turned her head to kiss his shoulder. “I could get used to waking up with you all warm and toasty.”
He stiffened. “It’s over, Scarlet. This can’t happen again.”
She knew that, they’d both agreed, but, “Wow. When you’re done you’re done. Good bye, get out, huh?” Like nothing that’d happened between them in the last two days mattered one bit. That hurt. “How about giving me a few minutes to wake up before you toss me from your bed?” Like a mistake that needed to be rectified as soon as possible.
On that unpleasant note, she no longer wanted to remain in his bed after all so she tossed off the covers.
“Wait.” He covered her back up. “I’m sorry,” he said. “This isn’t easy for me.”
“Oh, I disagree.” She kicked the covers all the way off this time. “Pushing people away is easy.” She sat up. “Being an insensitive jerk is easy. Make me mad and I’ll storm off so you won’t have to deal with me. Would it have killed you to say something nice? To maybe lie to make me feel good by telling me you had an amazing time this weekend and you’re going to miss having me around?”
“I did. I am,” he said.
“Right,” she snapped. “It means so much to hear you agree to it after I suggest it.” Not.
“I’m sorry.” He sounded miserable. Good. “I’ve been lying here for an hour trying to think of the right thing to say.”
“Newsflash, Lewis. You just wasted an hour.”
“This isn’t what I want.”
She shifted to face him. “And of course this is all about you, you who pursued me, you who put the moves on me, you who got what you wanted and now can’t get rid of me fast enough.” She stood.
“It’s not like that.” He sat up. “I don’t want to give you up, but Jessie’s my family and she needs my full attention right now. I can’t risk her finding out about us and it setting her off and ruining all the progress we’ve made in the past two weeks.”
Progress they’d made because of Scarlet’s intervention, thank you very much. “I get it,” she said, reaching for her panties and jamming one leg and then the other into them. “You want me in your life on your terms. Basically when you need my advice or help with your daughter.” She found her bra and slipped it on. “Or when you’re so
desperate for sex even I’ll do, as long as I disappear afterwards so I don’t disrupt your family.”
She found her blouse and jerked it on. “Because family comes first and I’m not, nor will I ever be your family. I get it. I understand.” She worked to button her shirt. “As long as you understand that by next week I hope to have a family of my own that I don’t want you to disrupt. So when you realize what a mistake you’ve made by treating me like one of your bimbo one-night-stands, and you want to apologize, don’t bother, because I’ll be too busy taking care of my daughter and worrying about what’s best for my daughter to care.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
He was the king of sorry.
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“Those words mean nothing without action to back them up.” Scarlet found her pants and yanked them off the back of a chair. “From where I’m standing, you put more effort into screwing me than you did into not hurting me.” She grabbed her sandals and stomped out of the room.
Worrying about Lewis coming after her turned out to be wasted brain function, because he didn’t. Triple jerk loser.
But just in case he changed his mind, Scarlet rushed to put on her pants, buckle her sandals, and gather up her bags. Without a backward glance she left Lewis’s condo, content to never step foot in it again.
Mid-morning on Monday Scarlet received a request to come to the nurses’ station to confirm that a bouquet of two dozen red roses and an obscenely large box of chocolates was in fact for her, before her eagerly awaiting staff, who’d congregated like a pack of hungry wolves surrounding a fresh kill, broke into it. She opened the card.
I’m sorry.
L
As if that would make it all better.
“They’re mine,” she confirmed, tearing off the cellophane wrapper and removing the lid. “Dig in.”
While her staff fought each other to pick the perfect sweet treat, Linda plucked the card from Scarlet’s hand. “Ooooh. L. How mysterious,” she said. “Might that L belong to Dr. Lewis Jackson from the emergency room? What’s he sorry for?”
“I’ll never tell.” Especially not Linda. She turned to get back to work.
“Hey,” Linda called out. “What about your flowers?”
“You all can enjoy them, too.” Scarlet didn’t want Lewis’s easy-way-out attempt to appease his guilt.
On Monday afternoon Scarlet ignored the flashing message light on her phone and the stack of pink message slips a secretary had hand delivered to her. Didn’t people have any respect for Memorial Day? She sank into the rocker in the peaceful sanctuary of Joey’s room, couldn’t wait to take her six week maternity leave.
“I’ve got your baby furniture all picked out,” she told Joey who lay contentedly swaddled in her arms. “It’s on a thirty day hold. All I have to do is call and they’ll deliver it within twenty-four hours.” As soon as she received her foster parent approval which she hoped to get soon after her Wednesday home visit.
She jiggled the bottle to get Joey sucking. “I’m thinking a pretty butterfly theme for your room. I may have overdone the pink color scheme a bit, but I’ve been dreaming of having a little girl for so long. It feels like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.” Scarlet hugged Joey close. “I can’t wait to take you home and have you all to myself.”
Someone cleared their throat from the doorway.
Pam, Joey’s social worker stood there with a man and woman Scarlet didn’t recognize. “I’m sorry.” Pam looked truly pained as she said it. “I tried to call you. I left three messages. I couldn’t wait any longer.”
Scarlet looked at the couple standing with Pam, the woman much shorter than the man, late thirties or early forties, both dressed conservatively, their faces bereaved, their eyes focused in on Joey, and dread squeezed her heart.
She knew what Pam was about to say before she said it.
“This is Michelle and Peter Quinnellen,” Pam said quietly. “Holly’s parents.”
Scarlet’s lungs seized. Tiny scraps of the picture perfect future she’d imagined for herself and Joey floated like snowflakes in her peripheral vision. “Are you sure?”
“The police checked and I verified,” Pam said almost apologetically. “Michelle is a homemaker and Peter is a businessman in Pennsylvania.” Pam made an effort to sound upbeat. “They’re active in their church.”
Scarlet’s mother had been a homemaker, her father had been a businessman, and in their case, active in their church had meant donates a lot of money. Labels said nothing about a person’s true character or why Holly had been too scared to tell her parents about her pregnancy.
Scarlet wanted to scream, “Where have you been? Why wouldn’t Holly give us your contact information? What was she so scared of? And why are you here for Joey when you weren’t there for your own daughter?” But she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, felt weighted down and on the verge of complete collapse.
Pam looked down at the floor. “They’re here for Joey.”
Scarlet’s world started to spin out of control. She gripped the arm of the rocker for stabilization.
Linda showed up in the doorway. “Is everything okay in here?”
No, things were not okay.
Michelle studied Scarlet. “You’re the one,” she said quietly. “The nurse Pam told us about.” She took a tentative step into the room. “The one who was with Holly when she delivered, the one who’s taken a personal interest in Joey.”
Much more than a personal interest, she loved the baby sleeping in her arms, she’d hoped and planned and dreamed… The heaviness of loss and despair settled on her chest.
“Did Holly…?” Michelle brought a tissue up to her nose. “Did Holly suffer?” She let out a sob and Peter put his arm around his wife and tucked her into the side of his taller body, strong and protective.
Scarlet gave the woman points for believable concern for her daughter and the man points for believable concern for his wife. She pushed her personal hurt aside, gathered up some professionalism and answered, “It was quick. She didn’t suffer.” Even if she had, what would be the point of telling the girl’s parents?
“Thank you for being there with her,” Michelle said, looking like she was barely holding it together. Scarlet knew the feeling. “And for taking such good care of baby Joey.”
Scarlet didn’t want a thank you. She wanted to stand up and run and take Joey with her. She wanted to cuddle and love and raise Joey, she wanted them to be a family. They were supposed to be a family.
But Joey had her own family, one that did not include Scarlet.
“May I hold her?” Michelle asked.
No you may not!
“Holly begged me to find Joey a good home with a nice family,” Scarlet said. “If you’d answer me one question, I need to understand why she didn’t think that good home with a nice family was with your family?”
“We taught our daughter abstinence,” Peter finally spoke. “We live in a small community. The members of our church, who comprise the majority of our closest friends, would not have looked kindly on Holly’s pregnancy.”
“We didn’t even know she had a boyfriend,” Michelle said. “But she’s our daughter, our blessing, our only child. We loved her, unconditionally. Nothing would ever have changed that. Nothing,” she said firmly. “She should have come to us, I wish she’d come to us. We would have understood, we would have helped her and protected her.”
“That’s the truth,” Peter said.
“Then maybe she’d still be here.” Michelle’s voice cracked. “Why did she trust that woman more than her own mother?” She looked up at Peter and started to cry. “Why?”
“We’ll never know,” Peter said, taking his wife into his arms, trying to fight his own tears. “You need to be strong for little Joey.” He rubbed Michelle’s back. “She needs us to be strong.”
“What woman?” Scarlet asked.
“Holly ran away thirty-four days ago,” Michelle said, sounding h
eartbroken. “We have been looking for her around the clock since then. We never considered she’d come all the way to New York City by herself.”
Pam entered the conversation. “The police made the connection during a raid on a brownstone on the lower east side, suspected baby brokers who made contact with pregnant teens online. During a search they found Holly’s wallet in a box.”
“May I hold her?” Michelle asked again, taking another step closer.
Scarlet stared down at Joey, fast asleep, the baby’s tiny hand holding onto her index finger, totally unaware of the tumultuous feelings churning inside of Scarlet as she prepared to give up yet another daughter. So what if she hadn’t yet been approved and the paperwork hadn’t yet been signed. In Scarlet’s heart, Joey was hers.
“Come,” Linda said. “You need to wash your hands and put on disposable gowns. Do either of you have any signs of cold or illness?”
With the Quinnellens occupied, Pam walked over to Scarlet. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I know how much—”
“Don’t,” Scarlet snapped. “Not here. Not now.”
Pam placed a sympathetic hand on Scarlet’s shoulder and nodded in understanding.
Transferring Joey into Michelle’s arms was the absolute hardest thing Scarlet had ever done. A slight joy when Joey cried out her dissatisfaction at being taken from Scarlet, because she recognized Scarlet and preferred her to all others, was quickly tamped down by Scarlet’s professional responsibility to ease the transition which was in Joey’s best interest.
“She likes it when you tilt her like this.” At the sound of her voice, Joey went silent. Scarlet repositioned Joey to face into Michelle more. She moved away and Joey started to cry again. Michelle looked stricken. So Scarlet went down on her knees and moved in close to both grandmother and baby. “Come on, you grumpy girl. Take the bottle for your grandma.”
NYC Angels: Tempting Nurse Scarlet Page 13