Second Go-Round

by Lynn Burke

  “What a pair we make, huh?” She laughed lightly, turning away to put on her seat belt. “Might as well stick to the upfront truth rather than trying to hide what we think.”

  “Might as well.” I caught her gaze and smiled. “So. How about a drink?”

  “Depends where.”

  “While I’d love to say my place or yours, I’m thinking O’Neill’s.”

  She hesitated a few seconds, and I let her figure out her brain while I made my way out of the parking lot.

  “I promised my dad and Jess to avoid Boston bars,” she finally said, “but O’Neill’s is a tiny hole-in-the-wall joint. Ought to be safe enough.”

  Took a long, fucking time, but we finally got onto 93 and headed north to Boston. We claimed a small table in the back of my favorite bar, a nice dim corner to hide away and chat over the din of happy Pats fans and the hint of music beneath.

  Cold beer between my hands, I leaned my forearms on the table. “Bored with me yet?”

  “Nope.” She swigged from her beer, and I stared at her lips as they pulled off the bottle’s rim, moist and lush. “But this isn’t a date.”

  “Call it whatever you want,” I said with a grin, needing like hell to adjust my swelling cock, “but I’ve gotten to hang out with you longer than most guys you ended up kicking to the curb.”

  “True.” She sipped again, her green eyes peering into mine. “Because you intrigue me. You also scare the shit out of me.”

  I grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

  “I don’t.” Christine sat back on her chair, her gaze roaming over my face, shoulders, and chest, coming to rest on my hands wrapped around my beer. “You’re a great guy—”

  “Here comes the but.”

  She smiled. “Actually, I was going to say and, as in and any woman would be lucky to have you.”

  “But?”

  “I’m not her.”

  “You could be.”

  Her mouth opened, but she shut it again, shaking her head. She picked at the bottle’s label with a fingernail. “I’d end up breaking your heart.”

  “Awfully confident of that fact, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve left enough broken hearts in my wake to know it’s the truth.”

  I pushed my beer off to the side and leaned forward, crossing my arms on the table. “What if I’m willing to risk it?”

  Christine lifted her head and stared at me. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because you intrigue me. You also scare the shit out of me.”

  Chuckling, she lifted her bottle in mock cheers and sucked down a few swallows.

  “Because I also think you’re worth it,” I continued. “I love your confidence. Your drive.”

  “You also love my ass,” she said, placing her bottle back on the table.

  “More than you could imagine.” All trace of a smile faded from my lips and eyes. “You’re the first and only woman who has made me think about more than just a quick lay. My parents split when I was twelve, and I swore off relationships because of all the shit I was exposed to during their divorce and for years afterward. They still fight like rabid animals if they’re in the same room.”

  Christine grimaced. “That sucks.”

  “You have no idea. Your parents still together?”

  “Yeah. Have been since they were in high school.”

  “That’s rare these days. You’re lucky. That means you also probably know how to make a relationship work.”

  “You’d think,” she muttered.

  Voices raised from the entrance, and I shifted to see around Christine. The guy checking IDs by the door held onto a man’s arm. Red-faced, the would-be patron in the bulky zipper-down tried to push his way into the bar. The bouncer grabbed hold of his sweatshirt and yanked, but the material gave way beneath their scuffle.

  A shiver whistled through me, followed by a rush of adrenaline at the sight of the vest beneath the guy’s zipper-down.

  “Shit!” I grabbed Christine’s hand and yanked her from the seat, spinning for the swinging kitchen door.

  “Wha—”

  A flash lit my periphery as I pulled Christine in front of me, and a whoosh of air blew me off my feet and into the kitchen door jam. Screams and a blast sounded in my ears as darkness descended.

  ****

  My heartbeat thudded in my ears as I blinked. Dust stung my eyes, and I coughed. “Christine?” I squeezed my hand to find her fingers still wrapped in mine. “Christine!”

  I tried to sit up, but I smashed my head against something. A wall of something solid lay on my right. “Fuck!” Rolling onto my stomach, I reached out to my left. My free hand scrambled along Christine’s arm, up to her face. Wetness coated her cheek.

  “Oh, fuck! Fuck!” I scooted to her side, blinking and trying to see her through the darkness surrounding us. “Christine!”

  She moaned.

  “Oh, thank Christ! Are you okay?”

  Another moan, this one louder, sounded from her, and she squeezed my hand.

  “I’m right here.” I pressed against her side, slowing taking stock of what had happened while pressing two fingers against her neck. “You’ve got a good pulse. You’re okay.”

  Bomb. Buried in rubble.

  We’re alive.

  “Can you move?” I whispered, running my hand down over her body. I encountered wetness on her thigh—and a massive piece of something resting on her left leg.

  “I—I don’t—” She coughed. “I think my nose is broken.”

  “Shh.” Returning my hand to her head, I gently ran my fingertips over her face. Definitely a broken nose. I ran my hand around the other side of her face and up into her hair. A massive bump swelled above her temple, covered in wetness from a laceration.

  I struggled to yank my sweatshirt off in the tight space we were trapped in, and turned it inside out. She didn’t make a sound as I pressed the hopefully clean area of my sweatshirt against the side of her head.

  “What happened?” she murmured.

  “Bomb.”

  “Are we dead?” she asked in a deadpan voice as though she didn’t care.

  “No.” I tried to peer through the darkness for any hint of light, but couldn’t see a damn thing.

  Christine sighed.

  “Stay awake, Christine.”

  “M’kay.”

  “I’m serious.” I squeezed her hand again. “You probably have a massive concussion. I need you to stay awake.”

  “Don’t wanna.” Her slurred words heightened my pulse, and I fought to slow my breathing.

  “Talk to me.”

  “’Bout what?” She sighed again.

  “The weather. Brewing beer … anything.” I laid down beside her, one arm over her chest, hand holding my shirt to her head, the other still wrapped around hers between us.

  “You said … you said I was your best,” she whispered.

  Fucking ice pick to my heart… “Yes.”

  “Did you mean it?”

  I caressed the back of her hand with my thumb. “Absolutely.”

  Christine sighed again. “I should have given us a shot while I had the chance.”

  “You still can.”

  “Wh-what if we don’t make it out of here?”

  “We will. I promise.”

  I clenched my eyes shut and prayed harder than I ever had.

  Christine

  Jarod kept talking to me. His voice hurt my ears. I wanted to sleep, but the bastard wouldn’t let me. He couldn’t just drone on about his childhood … no. Every other sentence was a question, and if I didn’t answer him right away, he would poke me with one of the fingers I clasped against my side.

  My leg hurt. Head throbbed. I’d never known such thirst. My throat scratched, tickled.

  I wanted to sleep.

  “Your head stopped bleeding.”

  “Mmm,” I voiced acknowledgement of having heard him so he wouldn’t poke me again.

  His hand caressed my cheek, my chin, b
efore disappearing.

  Clicking sounded a few times.

  “Whas that?” I tried asking, but had difficulty forming the words.

  “I’m tapping SOS with my watch against whatever this slab of rubble is overhead.”

  “M’kay.”

  The clicking sounded again. “Want to play a game?” he asked, and clicked again.

  “No.”

  “Rapid fire interview.”

  “Shh,” I said as he clicked out the SOS again.

  “Favorite color?” he asked, his breath fanning my cheek.

  “Blue.”

  The damn clicking… “Favorite season?”

  “Football.”

  Jarod laughed. “Of course it is.”

  I smiled which hurt my nose. “Nose hurts.”

  “Does your leg hurt?” he asked before the SOS sounded again.

  “Can’t really feel it.”

  “Can you wiggle your toes?”

  I tried, but couldn’t really tell. “Don’t know, Nurse Zimmerman.”

  He chuckled and sent another SOS. “What’s the best advantage to being tall?” he asked.

  “I fit perfectly against you.” I sighed on a smile. “Beneath you.”

  Jarod cursed near my ear. “Best thing you’ve ever done?”

  “You.”

  “Number one complaint?”

  “I screwed up after our second go-round. Shouldn’t have left.”

  Jarod kissed the side of my head and squeezed my fingers before clicking another SOS. “You’re going to get another chance, even if I have to dig our way out of here.”

  I squeezed his hand, his words waking me up a bit more. “Don’t leave me.”

  “I won’t.” More damn clicking. “Greatest fear?”

  “Not being stuck in small places, thank God.”

  “Greatest fear?” he asked again after clicking the damn SOS.

  “Grizzlies.”

  A huff of laughter caressed my cheek. “I won’t ever take you to Yellowstone or Alaska, then.”

  “Yours?” I asked, smiling past the pain in my damn nose.

  “Used to be dying, but I’ve found something else that I fear more.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Dying without having a chance to tell you how I feel about you.”

  Butterflies took to flight in my stomach and my breath caught. “So tell me,” I whispered.

  “I’m good and truly fucked, just like Micah told me the other night.”

  I laughed, but started to cough. “Pretty sure I’m the one who got fucked that night,” I rasped out once I caught my breath.

  “If you weren’t in pain and trapped beneath whatever the fuck is on top of your leg, I’d find a way inside your pants right now.”

  Warmth spread through me, and even though our situation sucked donkey ass, I found I wanted him, too. “When we get out of here…”

  “Yes.” Jarod pressed another kiss to the side of my head and clicked again.

  ****

  He finally let me sleep, but it seemed seconds before he poked my side and woke me. “Christine?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Stay with me, baby girl.”

  “M’kay.”

  His clicking sounded again but faded as I slid back into sleep.

  Pain shot down through my leg, and I came awake with a shriek, thrashing. “Fuck!” I shrieked again, pain in my leg and blinding lights killing my eyes.

  “The fuck are you doing to her?” I heard Jarod holler from too far away.

  Too far…

  I closed my right hand into a fist, but his wasn’t there for me to hold. “Jarod!” Blinking and squinting, I could barely make out the man leaning over me.

  “Shh,” he soothed with his voice as pressure once more wrapped my leg, deadening the pain. “We’re getting you out of here.”

  “Need Jarod…”

  “He’ll come along with us to the hospital.”

  I closed my eyes and gave over to the darkness again.

  ****

  “Hey sweet cakes…”

  A warm hand slid down my cheek, and I breathed in deeply. “Daddy,” I murmured, smiling.

  “Thank God.” My mom’s voice broke, and I recognized the bony fingers squeezing my left hand.

  “I’m alive,” I said, forcing my eyelids open. Dim light, and no more dust stinging and choking.

  “Yes,” my dad said. “You’re at Mass General.”

  I turned my head, searching the small hospital room. “Where’s Jarod?”

  “I sent him home to shower and change out of the borrowed scrubs he’s been wearing since they brought you both here.”

  I glanced over at Mom. “So you’ve met him.”

  “Yes, sweetheart.”

  I swallowed, taking stock of my body—and the lack of pain. “You better like him, because I’m not screwing this one up.”

  “He seems like a nice young man,” Mom said, lifting a water bottle with a built-in straw to my lips. “He was by your side when we got here, and if it weren’t for your father’s insisting he go home and clean up, would probably still be sitting here holding your hand.”

  A monitor beeped from behind me as I swigged on the ice cold water. It slid down my parched throat, and I smacked my lips. “How long have I been out?” I asked as Mom sat the water on the table beside her.

  “Two days,” Dad said, tucking hair behind my ear.

  “My leg?”

  “Is pretty banged up but will be fine,” Mom said. “The doctor said you’ll be on morphine for another day or two, but once you’re discharged, they’ll put you on something milder so you won’t be so loopy.”

  “When can I hit the gym again?”

  Dad chuckled. “Not for a couple of weeks at least.”

  “M’kay.” A sigh shuddered down through my body.

  “Cold?” Mom asked, tugging the bleach-scented blanket up beneath my chin.

  “No.” I motioned toward the water, and Mom helped me take another sip. “I thought you were in Florida.”

  “Jarod called Jess, and she contacted us. We caught the first available flight.”

  “Glad.” I smiled and closed my eyes. Everything was better if Daddy and Mom were around.

  “Why don’t you rest now, sweet cakes,” my dad said and kissed my forehead. “We’re going to head home for the night and come back in the morning.”

  “G’night,” I managed before morphine-induced sleep rolled over me again.

  ****

  Warmth encased my right side, warmth that smelled like Jarod’s musky cologne. His breath fanned my cheek.

  I opened my eyes and turned my face toward him. A scratch lined his right cheekbone above a good two-day’s worth of scruff, but I’d never seen anyone so damn fine in all my life.

  “Hey,” I said, tingles racing through my blood.

  He smiled, erasing the tiredness from his eyes even though dark circles lay beneath them. “Hey back.”

  “I’m sure I’ve got two black eyes from my broken nose and my breath probably reeks,” I whispered, lifting my left hand to push back his mussed hair, “but I would really love if you’d kiss me right now.”

  Jarod pressed his lips softly against mine, and I sighed.

  He pulled back way too soon and threaded his fingers through mine, resting our hands on my chest. “I don’t think I ever told you how I feel about you,” he said, peering down at me.

  I bit back a smirk. “Meaning you’re more than fucked?”

  “Meaning I’m falling in love with you, Christine Gemberling.”

  God. There it was. The “L” word.

  I licked my lower lip. “Is there a cure for such a thing, Nurse Zimmerman?”

  “Sure as hell hope not.”

  “Then I guess we’re doomed.”

  His slow smirk heated me through.

  “So.” I had to clear my throat. “When we get out of here, want to play doctor for real?”

  A huff of laughter shook
my hospital bed. “I’ll play whatever the hell you want if it means I get to hang around after that second go-round no other man has survived.”

  “I can live with that,” I said and lifted my head to kiss him again.

  Jarod

  Six months later…

  Reid’s daughter shrieked bloody murder, and I glanced up from the bundle in my arms, unsure of what to do.

  “Here.” Christine gestured for the tightly wrapped infant, and I gently handed the red-faced baby over. “Hey, there.” Christine cooed and shushed, feathering her fingertip along the baby’s light eyebrows.

  I lowered myself onto the couch beside Reid, who beamed like a four-year-old who’d just been gifted his first hockey stick. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

  “Sure is.” I grinned, my gaze back on Christine as she walked across Reid’s living room to a smiling Jess lounging in a new plush rocking chair.

  “She looks good with a baby in her arms,” Reid said, his voice low as Christine handed the quieting baby over to Jess. “You ought to give her one.”

  My brow furrowed, and I half-snorted a laugh while turning back toward him. “She hasn’t even told me she loves me yet, and you’re talking babies?”

  His dark eyes twinkled as he shrugged. “Got newborn on the brain, I guess. Best thing I’ve ever done, even if I haven’t slept for more than two hours a night since God knows when. Best gift a woman could ever give a man though.” He turned his attention on Jess again, his smile plastered in place.

  Maybe someday, I thought, catching Christine’s eye from the other side of the living room. Gotta get her to finally say she loves me first though.

  ****

  “When are you going to move in with me?” Christine asked, snuggling against my side on her couch a few hours later.

  I bit back my grin and glanced down at her hand as she rubbed my thigh. It wasn’t the first time she’d asked. “I don’t know. I kind of like my apartment.”

  She pinched me and tipped back her head with a glare. “Liar. You said you hated the noisy neighbors overhead. Seriously though.” Her gaze dropped to my lips. “You say you love me, but you’re unwilling to take that step.”

  “I never said I was unwilling.”

  “Well, then?”

  I needed to hear those three little words, words she’d yet to state outright. Rather than argue, I kissed her and pulled her onto my lap, my hands skating up beneath the long Pats t-shirt she wore before bed.