Rekindled: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance

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Rekindled: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance Page 7

by Ashlee Price


  I didn't answer, but nodded, as the elevator was opening and I was facing the door with the red button. There was a small room to the side where Michael went and sat, giving me a thumbs-up as my door opened and I was admitted into the strange world of blinking lights, beeps and tubes with gushing air. I was shown to a small patient room that was separated from the nurse's station by an open window. Dad was lying in the bed, and I felt my knees buckle at how pale and lifeless he looked.

  "He's going to need a long recovery, but he'll be okay." I turned and saw a man in a white lab coat. "Dr. Greene," he said, holding out his hand.

  I shook it briefly and stepped closer to the bed. Dad was on a ventilator. "He's had a major stroke, and we've got him in a mild coma so his body can recover. He could breathe on his own if he were conscious, so don't let that worry you."

  "How long?"

  "Hard to say. Once he's rested, we'll bring him out and put him in a normal room. They'll do more testing to discover the extent of the damage. Then we'll start physical and occupational therapy. If I had to guess, he'll be with us for three months minimum. Then he'll need to move to a rehab center for maybe another six months."

  "Oh, my God," was all I could say. Dad had minimal health insurance coverage with the Smithfields, but that would end since obviously he couldn't go back to work there.

  "If you're worried about insurance, when his runs out, they'll flip him over to Medicaid. You shouldn't have much in the way of bills."

  "Can I stay a few minutes with him?"

  "No more than five. We have him under so he can rest."

  I nodded and watched the doctor go on to the next room and the next life that was probably equally in shambles.

  I leaned over the bed rail and kissed Dad on the forehead. "Hey, Dad, it's Callie. I'm here and everything is going to be okay. I don't know if you can hear me or not, but I will take care of things, don't worry. I'll figure it out. I have to leave now. They won't let me stay. They want you to rest. You're in St. Mary's. I'll be back when I can. I love you, Dad. Remember, I will never leave you."

  I was sobbing as I exited through the door with the red button. Michael leapt up from his chair and wrapped me in his arms. "C'mon, let's get out of here," he said, guiding me down the hallways, into the elevator and outside into the cooler and much fresher evening air. "You're exhausted," he said. "Leave the truck here and I'll bring you back tomorrow to pick it up. I'm taking you to a hotel."

  I didn't argue; I just followed his instructions mutely. Right now, whatever had happened between us was forgotten. Michael was here, and I was content to let him take care of me.

  Chapter 14

  Michael

  Callie was a mess. She looked years older than when I'd seen her last. I knew it was stress, and I knew it was temporary, but things had to change.

  I took her to the Ramada closest to the hospital. I got us the biggest suite they had and had their restaurant send up a selection of food and drinks. Once I got her to the room, I turned on the shower, practically stripped her clothes off and put her in it. As if she were a small child, I shampooed her hair, soaped her up, rinsed her off, and wrapped her in an oversized terry towel and then the matching terry robe. I put her beneath the covers, still bundled, and was plumping pillows behind her when room service arrived with the food. She didn't want to eat, but I insisted. I put a call through to the front desk and had their lobby boutique send up some fresh clothing for her.

  Callie was quivering, and I recognized she was likely on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I was so, so angry with myself. This was my fault - all my fault.

  "Callie, listen lassie. I just need to get some information from you. Where is the baby?"

  Her eyes flared with alarm as she looked to me. "He's with a friend. She'll keep him a day or two."

  "Okay, that's my lassie. Good thinking. Now, what did the doctors say about your dad?"

  The dam broke and she started to cry. "He's had a stroke, Michael. He'll live, but it will be months and months before he's back to himself. He can't work anymore. We'll have to move. What am I going to do?"

  "Shhh... I told you I would make sure everything is taken care of."

  "No!"

  "Callie, we'll talk about this later when you've had some rest. Here, now finish your plate and then slide under those covers and get some sleep. I'll keep an eye on things, and I don't want you to worry, you hear me?"

  She nodded and mechanically slid down between the blankets. In a matter of moments, her eyes were closed and she was asleep.

  I turned the television down and just watched the images dance across the screen as I thought about her predicament. I was about all she had in the world besides an ailing father and a young baby. She was completely worn out, that much was obvious. After checking on her one more time, I took my phone and stepped out into the hall where I wouldn't disturb her.

  I made a phone call to my cousin, David. David and I were almost the same age, but he lived in Louisville and we'd seldom seen one another growing up, except on family holidays. Still, his dad and mine were brothers, so he knew exactly what kind of relationship we had. More than once, he and I had banded together to get out of scrapes without our fathers knowing about them.

  "David, it's Michael."

  "Hell, how are you?"

  "Fine, fine."

  "You going to win that game this weekend?"

  "We'll give it a shot. Listen, David. I need your help."

  "What did you do now? You're always managing to get yourself into scrapes."

  "It's not me, really. It's for a very, very dear friend."

  "Uh-oh, sounds like a girl."

  "Did you ever meet Callie?"

  "That sweet little pixie with the mane of white hair? How could I forget her?"

  "That's her, alright. Listen, without going into details, because of me she's going through some hard times, and I've been a real dick to her. I'm going to make it up to her, and this is going to end up alright, but in the meantime, she's not in a good place. Her dad just had a major stroke and there went his income and the trainer's house they were living in. She's got a baby, David."

  "A baby?"

  "Don't go there. It's a long story, but yes. She's working for a crotchety old lady outside town here and going to school full time for animal husbandry. She's got her hands full and is on the verge of collapse. I'm going to look after her, but I've got some things in my life I have to get straightened out first."

  "So where do I enter the picture?"

  "I guess I'm asking for you to give me some ideas. She's proud, won't take charity."

  "Okay, what's she good in - I mean, what kind of skills?"

  "She's a helluva horsewoman. Her dad's a trainer and she's grown up around them. I'd find someplace for her, but I don't want Dad getting involved and anyway she's not likely to take anything he might arrange for her."

  "I might know something, come to think of it. You remember that farm outside of Shelbyville - Stephens was their name."

  "Yeah, I've driven by. They came in from somewhere else, didn't they?"

  "That's right, that's them. They're new money up from Florida, so your dad isn't going to know them. They're looking for a farm manager / trainer combination, but they've only got four or five horses. They go back and forth to Florida, so whoever's there has to look after the place while they're gone. She'd be perfect for it. There's a house that goes with it, and they'd pay a fair wage. She could take the job, quit the job with the old lady and be close by for her dad until he's up and on his feet."

  "I take it you know them?"

  "Sure do. I play golf with him in a league at Hurstbourne."

  "David, call him. Tell him to hire her; I'll get her there to interview one way or another. Tell him she's perfect and he has my word on that. I want him to pay her twice what he'd normally pay. I'll pay her salary through him, so it won't cost him a thing. He has to keep this quiet, though. She won't take charity. I want her to think that he's
gullible enough to pay too much. She'll still argue, she's like that, but tell him to make something up, like he might be needing her to give riding lessons or something. I don't care what he has to say, but I'm writing the checks. Can you do that?"

  "Hell, yeah. I don't think he'll have any problems with that arrangement. He's got nothing to lose, and I suspect he'll like doing a favor for someone who's a local."

  "Yeah, well, you don't have to go into all that. In fact, if you don't mind, keep the family name out of it. If you don't mind, I'll get you a chunk of cash and you write him a check. Keep me out of it. That way it won't get back to Callie. Can you do that for me?"

  "No problem. You know where to find me."

  "Thanks, cuz."

  "My pleasure, cuz."

  I stepped back into the room and took a fast shower, closing the door before I turned on the light. I flipped off the television and eased into the bed next to Callie as gently as I could. I turned onto my side and the movement brought her out of her deep sleep. She turned, too, her naked bottom against my groin and backed up against me for warmth. There was nothing I could do to stop my reaction. I lay there, trapped between lust and compassion, and she wasn't making it any easier. It was difficult to breathe, and I didn't know where to put my hand.

  I laid it gently on her hip, just so it wasn't suspended mid-air. She wiggled her ass against me again and then reached up and took my hand, pulling it over herself like a blanket and settling it over her bare breast. Oh, my God, Callie, you're killing me. How much am I supposed to take?

  That's when I realized she was awake. She turned to face me and her hand went to my cock. She began to stroke me slowly, and as she did, her soft mouth began sucking my nipples and inching upward to my chin and to the soft skin beneath my ear. I wasted no time and wrapped my arms around her, rolling her onto her back.

  "God, but I've missed you," I rasped as I began stroking her soft, supple body. She smelled of soap, and her hair had dried into a soft pillow that perfumed the air around us. She didn't resist, just lay there with her eyes open, watching me.

  "Are you sure?" I asked, and she smiled. It was without a doubt one of the most beautiful things I could have imagined at that moment. I knew she needed the closeness, the reassurance that she wasn't alone. This wasn't a moment for prolonged passion, but for a gentle joining. I bent down and kissed her pussy lips, spreading them to suck at her swollen nub. Groaning, her head rolled left to right on her pillow and she spread her legs and began stroking my penis again. I moved over her, balanced on my arms, and then, with the slowest movement I was capable of, lowered myself into her. She was just exactly as I'd left her - tight and yet moist and swollen, anticipating my entry. I held still once I'd plumbed her depth, relishing her soft warmth around me.

  Callie broke the moment by bucking upward with her hips. "Fuck me, please, Michael," she whispered, and I knew it was the first time the word had passed her lips. She needed to say it; the moment called for it. This was real life with real problems, not some Saturday night around the campfire. Callie needed me.

  I began the pumping motion, swerving my hips from left to right slightly so I came into her from every angle. Her hands were on my chest, her fingers locked into my chest hairs, pulling me downward faster and faster. Her legs encircled my waist, holding me against her, and for the first time, I exploded just from the sensation of being inside her. She cried out and thrashed. I knew she'd found her release as well.

  Once she lay quietly, I carefully and slowly rolled to her side, pulling her against me, tucking her head onto my shoulder. "It's okay, lassie. I'm here, and you're going to be just fine. Go to sleep now. We both need the rest."

  Chapter 15

  Callie

  I awakened to the smell of fresh coffee and bacon. Michael was lying next to me, propped up on one arm, fully dressed and sipping a cup of coffee as he watched me. "How long have you been watching me?" I asked.

  "A while. You were tired and needed the rest."

  "Dad!" I remembered and sat up, the sheet falling away from me as I searched the room for my phone. Michael handed me the phone, but his fingertips stroked my nipples and he held one breast in his hand as though weighing it as I tapped out the number. The hospital answered and I asked for the nurse's station in the ICU. I spoke to a nurse who said Dad was doing much better. They'd removed the intubation during the morning rounds and he was breathing comfortably on his own. They said I was welcome to drop by, but that he was in and out of consciousness as they were still keeping him heavily sedated. I thanked her and hung up. Throwing back the covers, I raised to my knees, looking around for my clothes. "I need to go see Dad," I said. "Where are my clothes?"

  Michael kissed my rump and ran his hand over it. "Jesus, but you're sweet," he said. "I got you a few new things. They're hanging in the alcove by the door."

  I turned and gave him a threatening look.

  He held up his hands, spilling the coffee on the blanket and then laughing. "I know, I know, you're pissed. Well, it's just going to be that way, because what you had on last night took a beating. Just wear the damned clothes and we'll call it a belated birthday present."

  I glared, but I had no choice. It looked like he'd gotten rid of my old clothes entirely. I dressed hurriedly, munching on a piece of toast from the food cart. Michael finished his coffee and handed me a cup. "C'mon, bring it with you."

  "That's stealing, Michael!"

  "No, they'll bill me for it. Let's get going." He opened the door and we were out of it and outside in two flashes. Michael opened my car door, too, and in a matter of minutes we were on the highway headed to the hospital, which was only a mile or so away.

  "I'll come in with you."

  "No!" I cried out in alarm. "I mean, no, I've got this. He's better this morning, so it's not so scary. Besides, I've got to hurry. I've got things to do."

  "I need to talk to you, Callie."

  "It'll have to wait. I need to go. Thank you, Michael, for being there when I needed you."

  "Will you let me know?"

  I nodded and got out of the car, sprinting toward the hospital door and then the elevators leading up to the fifth floor.

  They were right. Dad was doing much better. His eyes opened briefly, and when I smiled at him I saw recognition in his eyes. "It's okay, Dad. Everything is fine. I've got everything taken care of. You don't worry about a thing but getting better, you hear?"

  He lifted a finger, and I was overjoyed. I saw it as a sign that there was no paralysis. I kissed him on the cheek and told him I had to go and see about Josiah. His finger moved again and I knew he'd understood, and agreed.

  I was feeling more positive as I left the hospital. I drove back toward home, calling Deb along the way to say I was stopping by to pick up Josiah.

  "He's no trouble at all, Callie. Why not leave him here another day or two? He's a sweetheart, and you need some time to get things lined up." I'd told her about Dad, and she knew immediately what that kind of recuperation would entail.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Absolutely. Mom is enamored of him. She's already pushing me to find a husband and give her grandchildren. I think you've just spiced up my love life, if you must know!"

  I laughed, and it felt good. "Thanks, Deb. Okay, I'll take you up on it." I headed for the farm and went inside the house, looking around and taking stock of what we actually owned and what would have to be left behind. Most of the furniture had come with the place, so there wasn't much of a move to be accomplished.

  I went out toward the barn to walk Hector. He was one problem - there was no way I could stuff him in a suitcase. As I reached the barn I heard a vehicle behind me and turned around to see Michael pulling in. Putting my hands on my hips, I walked toward him. "What's up?"

  "Your Dad doing better?" he asked, rolling down his window and shutting off the motor.

  "Yes, much better, actually."

  "How about you? You doing better?" he grinned, and we both knew what he meant.


  "Yes, I'm much better, too."

  "Callie, I need to talk to you."

  "About...?"

  "We both know things are going to change here... that you can't stay. I promised you I would see to it that you were okay. I'd like to keep my promise."

  "I'm not holding you to anything, Michael. You're entirely on your own."

  "I was, and thank God, that selfish bastard is gone now."

  I looked at him in amazement. Maybe Dad was right after all. Maybe Michael was finally growing up. "I never thought I'd hear you say that."

  He laughed and stepped out of the car. "To tell you the truth, neither did I. Seriously, though. Can we go inside and talk for a few minutes?"

  "Of course. Come on in."

  Michael walked into the kitchen and looked around. I realized he was looking for the baby. "He's not here. He's still with my girlfriend for a couple of days."

  Michael nodded and gestured to the kitchen table. "Mind if I sit down?"

  "Be my guest. Coffee?"

  "Maybe a glass of water?"

  I turned to the sink and poured him a glass, plopping in some ice cubes from the tray in the freezer. I handed it to him, but he took it from my hand and set it on the table, quickly grabbing me and pulling me toward him. He fastened his hand around my chin and lowered me a couple of inches to his face level, kissing me, hard.

  "I've wanted to do that since I got here," he said, and I smiled. I couldn't be mad at him. There was too much between us to stay mad for very long.

  "So, let's talk," he said with resolution in his voice. "I'm going to sort of lay things out the way I understand them, and you correct me if I'm wrong, okay?"

  I nodded. "Go on."

  "So, your dad has been a trainer here for a lot of years, but I don't imagine he had a chance to put much away over those years."

  "Go on."

  "He's not going to be able to work again for some time. How long, you don't really know. So right now you're trying to figure out how you're going to support your family on your own."

 

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