by Lisa Lace
We stay for hours, but it’s only a small aquarium, and by the time we’ve had our fill of sea life, the night is still young.
Tom looks at his watch, then realizes he’s not wearing it. He chuckles at himself. “I was trying to tone it down. Laura says I make a bad impression with the billionaire bit.”
I smile. “Laura’s very wise. Although the Rolex wasn’t as much of a problem as the attitude.”
“And tonight, have I been full of myself?”
I shake my head. “No. You’ve been fun. I’ve had the best time.”
Tom reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. He looks genuinely happy when he grins. “Good.” He sighs. “I guess I’d better get back to Laura’s.”
“What time is she leaving tomorrow?”
“After she’s taken the kids to school.”
“So, you’re not needed until school ends?”
“Technically.”
I play with Tom’s fingers, looking up at him flirtatiously from under my lashes, even though I’m feeling like an anxious wreck inside. So much could go wrong. He’s a flight risk.
“You should come back to my place for a while, then. We won’t have the chance to spend much time together when we’re alone with the kids. Let’s make the most of this night.”
“The night of your life?”
“I’m hoping it will be.”
“I’ll let Laura know.”
Tom calls Laura to tell her that he’s coming back to mine. I wonder how Laura will react. I know she’s rooting for us, so I hope she’s excited and not too mad that I’m stealing her brother away the night before she leaves.
I send her a quick text: Tom and I have had a wonderful evening. I didn’t want it to end yet. I hope it’s okay that he’s with me tonight. I’ll make sure he’s there for the kids when school ends tomorrow. Love you! Xx
I’m already sitting in the car by the time Tom finishes his call and gets in. He grins. “Laura tried to sound angry, but I think she’s pleased.”
“Do you get the sense she’s pushing us together?”
“I think she’s hoping I’ll fall in love with a local and never leave again.”
“She dreams big.”
“That’s one thing we have in common.”
Tom grins at me and turns on the ignition. He drives us back to my apartment. Once we get to my street, and the thrill of an empty aquarium and school-aged nostalgia has worn off, I realize how real this all is. Then I turn to look at Tom and know that I want nothing more.
I wish this had been the way things had gone from day one, instead of those false starts and bitter insults. The night of my life. I smile at him. “Come on in.”
Tom follows me upstairs to my apartment. My heart is thumping with anticipation. My mouth is dry.
My apartment smells of the fresh linen scented oil burner that I had on this morning. My apartment is tidy. There are multiple flower pots on windowsills and bookshelves, and a giant vase of lilies on the kitchen island.
“Wine?” I offer.
“Sure.”
I pour us two glasses. It’s the same bottle that was never opened when we met on Friday night.
Tom accepts his glass and takes a sip. “Good choice.”
“I doubt it’s as fancy as anything you’re used to drinking.”
“It’s perfect. A dry white. My favorite.”
We sit together on my sofa. I drink from my wine glass, letting the feeling of the alcohol relax me. I didn’t realize how tense I am.
“I had a great time tonight,” Tom says. “I’m glad you gave me a second chance.”
“You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”
“I didn’t want to give up on the first spark I’ve felt in a long time.”
This is it. It’s happening.
Tom reaches across and places his hand behind my ear. He pulls me in for a kiss. He tastes like warm wine. His tongue moves over my lips, into my mouth. His kiss is warm; gentler than I expected.
I turn my body toward him, climbing onto his lap, facing him, so I can pull him closer.
Tom runs his hands up my back. His arms tighten around me. One hand remains around my waist, the other is in my hair, pulling me toward him.
Tom’s gentle kiss grows more passionate. My breath comes faster with excitement. I run my hands down his chest. Beneath the fabric of his shirt, I can feel his strong, taut muscles.
I let my hands rest on either side of his face during the next kiss. His jaw is strong and defined, with just the slightest rough stubble beginning to grow through. Tom takes hold of the bottom of my blouse with both hands, and pulls it up over my head, tossing it away.
The bra I’m wearing isn’t the one I’d chosen especially for our first night together. Instead of racy black lace, this bra is red padded silk. When my top is pulled away, I feel Tom rising between my legs, his cock growing hard at the sight of me.
He kisses along my collarbone and up my throat, almost panting. He unfastens my bra and lets it fall. His eyes drink in the view of my full, round breasts. He leans in to trace his tongue across my skin, sucking and nibbling gently at a nipple, his arms wrapped tightly around my back.
I feel completely enveloped in his delicious hold. I run my hands through his hair as he kisses my breasts. Our bodies are close together, locked in a steamy embrace.
Reaching for the button of Tom’s pants, I pull the denim apart and slide my hand beneath the material. I close my hand around his thick, throbbing cock. Tom grows even harder when I touch him.
I start to slide my hand up and down. I love the sound of the low groan Tom makes when I’m holding him.
He doesn’t let me tease him for long. Instead, Tom picks me up effortlessly and carries me to the bedroom, just like I imagined he would. He’ll lead like he’s walked through my apartment a thousand times before.
Tom lays me down on the bed and flicks on the bedside lamp. He draws the drapes, then turns to me with a smoldering stare. He takes off his tight T-shirt.
The muscles I’d felt just moments before are now on full display. Taut pecs, a row of defined abs. His hair is slightly tousled now that the day has worn on, starting to look wild in a way that drives me crazy. No business suits or ten-thousand-dollar watches. Just raw, masculine appeal.
I want him to take me. I want Tom to fulfill every fantasy I’ve imagined alone and every explicit message we’ve teasingly sent each other.
He takes off his jeans and briefs and stands at the end of the bed. My breath catches at the sight of his huge cock, hard and ready. He comes toward me and peels away my jeans. His eyes travel over my long, shapely legs. I relish the look of desire in his eyes. My killer legs strike again.
Next, Tom peels away my red silk panties. Pulling my legs apart, Tom bows his head between them. His wet, warm tongue presses against my clit. A tingling of pleasure begins to grow.
He teases my clit with his tongue until I’m on the brink of orgasm, then raises his head to kiss my mouth while pressing his fingers into me. His body is against mine; we are skin to skin as I come.
I tilt my head back to let a cry of pleasure escape.
While I’m still heady from the orgasm, Tom parts my legs again and enters me. His cock is thick and hard. It fills me entirely, and each stroke is pure bliss.
Tom rocks into me, going from kissing my mouth to kissing my throat. I hold onto the spindles of my headboard, blown away by the feeling of Tom inside me.
He pulls away and lies on his back. He gently takes hold of my wrist and pulls me onto him. His head falls back onto the pillow, his eyes fixed on mine.
I feel like the sexiest woman alive when I sink down onto his cock again. I begin to grind against him. His eyes are full of admiration for my body, but soon he closes them in pleasure and tilts his head back.
He grasps at my hips and pushes down. “Zoe—”
The sound of my name from his lips sends shivers down my spine. I lean forward to kiss him, my red hair spilling ove
r his face. He reaches up to brush it back behind my ear, and our eyes meet. That spark burns.
I rock my hips against Tom until he comes. He lets out a long, satisfied breath, then sits up and wraps his arms around me. My breasts press against his chest. It feels so intimate.
He kisses me long and deeply, then draws away. “That,” he says, “was the night of my life.”
Tom
I wake up—not in my luxury bed in New York, and not on the uncomfortable sofa at Laura’s, but in Zoe’s bedroom, my beautiful redhead still asleep beside me.
It’s about eleven AM. I never sleep in. I feel more relaxed than I have in years.
I take a moment to appreciate Zoe. Her body is a masterpiece. She’s slim and toned, with perfect breasts. I’m in wonder at how womanly she is. Her read hair is her crowning glory. It spills all around her sweet face and over her bare shoulders like fire.
She’s lying on her front with her arms crossed over the pillow and her head resting on them, her face turned to one side. Her hair covers most of her shoulders, but I can see the slope of her spine leading down to her tailbone, where the covers rest. Her skin is soft, pale, and supple.
One leg pokes out from beneath the sheets. One perfect leg. Even though she’s asleep, her toes are still curling against the fluffy pink blanket at the end of the bed. I never usually notice the small things like that.
I’m annoyed when my cell starts ringing and interrupts the perfect moment. Zoe’s brow furrows. She lets out a long breath, stretching from head to toe, then relaxing back into the mattress. She sits up and rubs her eyes.
“Is it work?”
“Probably. Or it could be Laura with some last-minute instructions. She probably still expected me to come back last night.”
Zoe looks guilty. “You’d better take it.”
I look at my cell screen. The caller is a number I don’t recognize. I answer it.
“Mr. Vermont?”
“Speaking.”
“I’m calling from Maine Medical Center.”
I sit up. This must be serious.
“What’s happened?”
“Your sister, Laura Demont, was brought in this morning. I’m sorry to say she’s been involved in a road accident.”
Blind panic courses through me. I may not always be on the doorstep, but I love my sister. “How is she?”
“Her condition is critical but stable. We’re still doing tests. It’s best you come right away. We have her at Bramhall Campus.”
“I’ll be right there.” I hang up and immediately begin searching for my clothes and getting dressed.
Zoe’s sitting bolt upright now, her eyes wide. “Was that the hospital?”
I nod. “Laura’s been in an accident. She’s critical.”
She gasps and covers her hand with her mouth. Tears immediately fill her eyes, but she springs into action, pulling on fresh underwear and yesterday’s jeans. “Let’s go.”
We race to my car, the night before forgotten. All we care about is Laura.
“What about the kids?” Zoe asks. “Should we get them?”
I turn the key and start driving. I shake my head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“But what if Laura doesn’t make it?”
“I won’t let that happen.”
Zoe’s still crying. Her face is ashen, her hands shaking. “Did they say how badly she was injured?”
“They’re still running tests.”
I get us to the hospital as fast as possible, reeling around junctions and pressing my foot down whenever I close in on lights to avoid the reds. Zoe grips onto the handle of the passenger door, squeezing her eyes shut, but saying nothing about how fast I’m driving.
When we arrive at the hospital, we head straight for the reception desk. Others are milling around, trying to get the attention of the surly woman behind the counter.
I shout over the heads.
“Excuse me—Laura Demont?”
“One moment, sir. I’ll be right with you.”
I don’t have time to wait for the middle-aged woman with flu to finish insisting she get immediate attention. I turn away from the desk, pulling Zoe along with me, to stop a passing nurse.
“Excuse me; my sister was brought in after a car accident. Can you tell me where she is?”
The nurse asks me for the name and nods. “Yes, she was brought in a short while ago. She was taken to urgent care.”
We sprint down the corridors of the hospital to find her. She isn’t in any of the rooms.
I manage to catch a passing doctor. “Please, doctor, we’re looking for Laura Demont.”
He nods at once. “Road accident, brought in this morning.” He holds out his hand to shake mine. “Let’s talk in here.”
The doctor takes us aside in an empty hospital room and shuts the door. He’s an older doctor, at least in his fifties, with graying hair, and a serious expression. He acts with great professionalism and respect. I trust him immediately. “Mrs. Demont has been taken to surgery.”
“Oh my God.” Zoe breathes out heavily. “How badly is she hurt?”
“She has broken her back in two places.”
I immediately fear the worst, imagining Laura confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life. The news hits me like a punch in the gut.
The doctor senses my fears and is quick to continue. “Although the injury is potentially very debilitating, the paramedics at the scene did everything right, and we’re doing everything we can to avoid permanent paralysis. Although the bones are damaged, the nerve damage, at this time, seems minimal. We have Mrs. Demont in surgery now to remove a herniated disc and some bone fragments that were detected in the X-ray. After that, we’ll use traction to realign the spine.”
“Traction?”
“A bracing system. Mrs. Demont has suffered fractures in the neck and lower spine. She will require a collar brace and what we call a TLSO for her lower back. We will aim to keep her stabilized for eight to twelve weeks while she heals.”
“Eight to twelve weeks,” Zoe says. “What then?”
“We will review her progress and determine whether she requires any further treatment. We may be looking at further surgery down the line to fuse bone at the fracture site.”
“I want her treated in a private ward,” Tom announces. “The cost doesn’t matter. I want her to have the best.”
The doctor nods. “I’ll make sure that happens.”
“How long will she be in surgery for?”
“Another couple of hours, at least. As you can appreciate, spinal surgery is very complex. You can wait in the waiting room as long as you like, or there is the hospital café.” He offers a sympathetic smile and reaches to shake my hand again. “I understand this is shocking news. I promise you, we’re doing all we can to take the very best care of Mrs. Demont. I will update you as soon as I can.”
The doctor leaves, and Zoe and I are still stunned.
Zoe shakes her head slowly in disbelief. “Two breaks. How will she cope, Tom?”
I pull her in toward me and hold her tightly. “I’ll make sure she has everything she needs. She’ll get the very best care. I promise you.”
“She could be in the hospital for weeks. What about the kids?”
“I’ll arrange for someone to look after them.”
Zoe gasps then scowls. “Seriously? At a time like this, you’d pawn the kids off on someone else?”
I lift my hands. “What would you have me do, Zoe? I don’t know the first thing about those kids. They’ll be safer with someone who can take better care of them than me.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Zoe retorts. “If you won’t step up, then I’ll stay with them. I can’t believe you’d even suggest letting anyone else look after them at a time like this.”
“I’m thinking about what’s best for them.”
“You’re thinking about what’s best for you.” Zoe’s furious at me.
My heart sinks. My sister is critically il
l, and I’ve already handled it wrong. I’ve never been good in a family crisis. I’ve always made the wrong decisions.
“You think I should look after them?” It’s a genuine question. I’m asking Zoe what the hell I should do.
“Of course, you should! Do you have any idea what those kids have been through?” She stares at me, then rolls her eyes. “No, you don’t. They’ve lost their father. How do you think they’re going to feel when they find out their mom is seriously ill? They’re going to be terrified. The last thing they need is to be shoved into the arms of strangers.”
But I’m a stranger. Still, I nod. “You’re right, Zoe. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, I’ll stay with them.”
Her expression softens. “You promise?”
“I swear.”
She lets out a long breath. The news of Laura’s accident has hit her hard. Even though we both slept for about twelve hours, she looks exhausted.
“The doctor says we’ve got a couple of hours to wait. God, I don’t know how I’m going to make it. I can’t bear not knowing how she’s doing. Tom, I’m so worried about her.”
I take Zoe’s hand and squeeze it tightly. “Do you know anyone who’s more of a fighter than Laura?”
She offers a weak smile. “You’re right.”
“Let’s go to the café, okay? We’ll get a coffee and something to eat, and figure out what the hell we’re going to do.”
We head to the café. I buy us both a coffee and a stale croissant. I don’t really have the stomach for either. I pick at the pastry and force down the bitter coffee, hoping it will give me the energy to process what is happening.
Zoe puts her head in her hands. We’re sitting at a round table at the edge of the café. There’s a strange mix of joy and tears around us. Some people are laughing and joking, holding balloons and bouquets. For every family facing death and tragedy, another is welcoming a newborn or celebrating some other miracle.
Others, like us, look like their world is ending. I see tired faces and red eyes. I try not to let my own fear show. Zoe, Laura, and the kids are all counting on me.