Dare To Stay

by Phillips, Carly

  He grinned, thinking of the rush of standing on the field, sprinting to someone’s aid, watching Willow tape up an injury and send the player back out to play. “It was exhilarating.”

  “I must say I’m relieved to hear that,” she murmured.

  “Relieved? Why?” He kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the bed.

  “Because it means you’re really home to stay. Your family is here and you belong with us. And speaking of family, I wanted to talk to you about Thanksgiving.”

  He blinked up at the ceiling. “Wow. I hadn’t thought about the holiday. It’s in what? Two weeks?”

  “Exactly,” his mom said. “Now the Thunder isn’t playing on Thursday, and Damon’s lucky enough to be in the same city as his family. He’s bringing some of the players home with him. We’re going to be a huge crowd this year. So feel free to bring anyone you want.”

  He grinned at his mom’s generous heart. “Hudson will be there for sure.” His best friend’s family was on the East Coast, and given that he was avoiding going home, Braden assumed Hudson would rather remain in Miami and work.

  “He’s more than welcome, but I was thinking of a certain blonde I saw standing beside you on the sidelines.”

  He let out a groan. His mom had always liked Willow, but she wasn’t used to big family gatherings, and when they were together, she told him she’d gone to Dr. Jonas’s house for holidays.

  He couldn’t see her wanting to join him this year. “You know we’re not together anymore.” Which didn’t mean he wouldn’t invite her.

  “Damon might have mentioned he caught you watching her a time or two. Or five,” she said on a chuckle.

  Braden cursed his brother and his big mouth. The last thing he wanted was to be the subject of family gossip.

  “All I’m saying is if you’d like to ask her, she’s more than welcome.”

  He rolled his eyes at her deliberate push. His mother wanted to see all her kids paired off, and she had Braden and Bri left to go. “Thanks, Mom. I’ll let you know.”

  “Okay. Go get some sleep. I love you.”

  “Love you, too,” he said and disconnected the call.

  Bracing his hands behind his head, he closed his eyes, knowing he still wanted to jump in the shower before going to sleep.

  He just needed a few minutes to unwind. As he closed his eyes, his mind drifted to Willow, and he grabbed his phone, deciding to text her. He wanted to be the last thing she thought of before falling asleep.

  Chapter Four

  Thinking of you. Hope you dream about me. A full-body tremor rippled through Willow every time she recalled Braden’s bedtime text.

  His words stayed with her all through the day as she worked on her patients, their bodies battered and bruised from yesterday’s game. To her utter mortification, it wasn’t until she saw Cole the next day that she realized what she’d done.

  Kissing Braden and falling into that zone of pleasure had wiped out all thoughts of anyone else. Including the man she was casually dating. If she could make out with Braden with no consideration for Cole, if Braden could take her outside herself so easily, Cole Walsh wasn’t the man for her. Something she’d been avoiding completely admitting to herself, and now she had to do something about it.

  But today kept her too busy to think about her personal life. She iced, taped, used stim, and more throughout the day, and by the time she could leave, she was exhausted and Cole was gone for the night. Instead of heading straight home, she’d promised Bella Jonas she’d stop by after work, and she didn’t want to disappoint her.

  She pulled up to the house where she’d spent the end of her teenage years and parked in the driveway. With Peter in jail and unable to post bail because Bella had refused to put up the house as collateral, Bella was here alone.

  Willow shut the engine, grabbed her purse, and exited the car. She headed up the path leading to the front door and rang the doorbell, but Bella must have heard or seen her approach, because she opened the door at the same time.

  “Hi! I’m so glad you’re here!” Bella, a petite brunette wearing a pair of jeans and a light sweater, greeted Willow with a smile.

  “Hi, yourself!”

  They hugged before Bella shut the door, and they walked to the kitchen, where they always ended up sitting to chat.

  “I put aside dinner for you. Let me heat it in the microwave.” Bella rushed around the kitchen, bringing back warm memories of her making dinner when Willow lived there.

  She remembered being in awe of someone who was always happy and wary of her kindness. With time and patience, Bella had won Willow over. It was impossible not to love the woman who had taken in many foster kids over the years because she couldn’t have children of her own.

  “How are you, really?” Willow asked. She didn’t need to elaborate. Bella would understand what Willow was referring to.

  She sighed heavily. “I’m managing. I’m not taking Peter’s calls and I’m having divorce papers drawn up.”

  Willow was surprised. “It hasn’t been that long since the news broke. Are you sure you don’t want to take time to think about it some more?” she asked as the microwave beeped, indicating the food was finished heating. “You were married a long time.”

  Bella retrieved the plate and put it down in front of Willow at the kitchen table. Bella had already set the table and given Willow a glass of ice water. The delicious smell of Bella’s signature chicken potpie wafted up, and Willow took a bite, the creamy flavor so good.

  Bella settled into a chair across from Willow. “No matter how I look at the situation, he lied about so many things. His gambling addiction, the money he owed, the taxes he didn’t pay.” She shook her head. “If he’d told me he had a problem, I could have gotten him help. He betrayed everything about our marriage and our relationship. And what he did to Damon Prescott? Taking money to inject him with performance-enhancing drugs? I don’t know that man and I don’t want to.”

  From her tone of voice, Bella meant her words, and Willow didn’t blame her and she sighed. “I understand. I’m just sad for you.”

  “I’ll be okay. Now you eat.”

  With a smile at Bella’s insistence, Willow finished her meal, realizing as she ate just how hungry she was. Once full, she gathered her plate and utensils and walked to the sink and, over Bella’s objections, began rinsing and cleaning up.

  “So I watched the game yesterday,” Bella said as Willow finished and wiped her hands on a dishtowel.

  Willow wasn’t surprised Bella had viewed the game without her husband being around. They were a football family through and through and had instilled that love of the game in Willow.

  Rejoining Bella at the table, she said, “It was a good game. A win.”

  Bella smiled. “I also saw the press conference introducing the new doctor streamed on the team’s website. Very interesting choice. Don’t you think?”

  Willow’s gaze shot to Bella’s. “Don’t go there.” She didn’t want to think about Braden and the things he made her feel.

  “You’re defensive, which is exactly why we should go there. How has it been working with him?” Bella stared at Willow until she squirmed in her seat.

  She twisted her hands together and forced a smile. “It’s been okay. No problem.”

  “R-i-g-h-t. That’s why you’re wringing your hands together. Your nerves are so completely obvious.”

  Willow unclasped her fingers that now ached. “I’m serious. It’s been fine. If you count getting stuck with adjoining rooms in Denver fine.”

  Bella’s green eyes opened wide. “What?”

  Though Willow hadn’t planned to discuss kissing Braden with anyone, she sat with the closest thing to a mother she’d ever had and knew she needed someone to listen.

  She cleared her throat. “So the rooms were a fluke. But Saturday night he knocked and brought in a room-service cart with my favorite dessert.”

  Bella’s gaze softened. “That was nice.”

&nbs
p; “It’s easy to offer up a sweet gesture. It won’t make me forget how easily he left.”

  She tipped her head to the side. “Oh, sweetie.” She grasped Willow’s hand and squeezed tight. “You have abandonment issues and rightly so. We don’t have to get into the whys or what happened to you. Not now. But I hope one day we can dig into things, because you need to get the pain out. Was Braden wrong? Absolutely. But what does he say now?”

  “Before or after we kissed?” Willow asked.

  Bella leaned on the table, her eyes opened wide, her surprised expression speaking for itself.

  “Umm, yes. He says he wishes he’d handled things differently. But that doesn’t matter. The very fact that he did it means I can’t trust him to stick around.” And she didn’t plan on giving him the opportunity to repeat the past.

  “Hmm. Now for an even harder question. What about Cole?”

  Willow sighed. “I need to end things with him. It’s the right thing to do.”

  “And Braden?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t let myself go there.”

  “Something tells me Braden doesn’t agree.” Patting Willow’s hand, she offered her a smile. “Good luck talking to Cole and dealing with Braden.”

  “Thanks.” Willow rose from her seat. “I should get going. I have to be up early, as usual.”

  Bella stood and walked with Willow to the door. “Oh! I’m going to my sister’s this year for Thanksgiving, and you’re more than welcome to join me and I hope you will. Kathy would love to see you.”

  Willow forced a smile. She didn’t know how she felt about being with another big family for the holiday. She was used to a small gathering with Bella and Peter or being alone. “I’ll let you know. Thank you and thank Kathy for the invitation.” Leaning over, she kissed Bella’s cheek. “I loved catching up.”

  “Same here. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  She walked out to her car, climbed inside, and headed home, needing a good night’s sleep, because from Cole to Braden, tomorrow would definitely be a difficult day.

  * * *

  Braden followed the directions to the health center, making a series of right and left turns that took him deeper into the center of the city, Hudson in the passenger seat. They left the luxury area of South Beach and headed downtown, the scenery changing. More dilapidated buildings, more depressed neighborhoods, more people in need of good medical care. He pulled his SUV into the parking lot and cut the engine.

  “I’m glad we finally have a chance to check things out here,” Hudson said, stretching his legs out in front of him at the same time moving his seat back for comfort, a little late considering they’d been in the car for twenty minutes.

  “Tuesday is game planning. It’s the only free time we do have. Cole and Marshall can handle any injury issues that come up today.” As the sun hit the windshield at an awkward angle, Braden adjusted his sunglasses and put the visor down.

  “How’s it going with Willow?”

  “Avoidance at its finest,” he muttered. “She’s a tough nut to crack. Not that I blame her. She’s a child of foster care. Moved around a lot. She puts up walls to keep from getting hurt. She let me in and I blew things. It’s going to take more than an I’m sorry to make her believe in me again.” It was the first time he’d spoken about Willow’s past and her issues. As much as he respected her privacy, he needed an ear and some advice. “So the question is, do I push or give her space?”

  “I say push. What’s space going to get you but more of the same? Being ignored.” Hudson shrugged and glanced out the window.

  “Good point.” Braden cut the engine and they exited the car, meeting up in the graveled lot.

  “The outside leaves a lot to be desired,” Braden said, checking out the building you couldn’t even tell was a health clinic but for the small sign in the window.

  “I hope the equipment inside is up-to-date and working. Not to mention the state of their supplies.” Hudson strode up to the glass and peered inside. “Hard to tell.”

  Braden opened the door, and they walked into a full waiting room with what was clearly a barely working air conditioning unit. He stopped at the check-in window.

  A woman glanced up at him, looking harried. “How can I help you? Though I should warn you it’s a long wait. We’re short-staffed.”

  He leaned an arm on the counter. “Actually that’s why we’re here. We’re doctors interested in joining the staff. Can we speak to whoever’s in charge?”

  “Dr. Anderson!” the woman spun around and called out toward the back of the area. “Two doctors here to see you! You’re going to want to talk to them.”

  Turning, Braden raised an eyebrow at Hudson, who shrugged.

  Half an hour later, they’d been given a tour of the facility, such as it was, three exam rooms in the back, a storage area that needed organization, an X-ray machine that lacked a technician, and a donated ultrasound machine. Basically, they were making do with the bare minimum and that included doctors on hand and ready to help.

  Dr. Thomas Anderson had welcomed them without question. The clinic operated on a sliding scale of what a patient could afford and, according to Tom, as he liked to be called, was hanging on by a thread. Braden and Hudson were badly needed.

  Braden knew he’d have the time. Ian had assured him once he had his footing with the players, he could fall into a routine with overseeing the athletes here, and like the other doctors, he could either work at a medical practice or, as he wanted to do, this healthcare clinic.

  As they were talking, the receptionist began to call out. “One man with chest pains, another with severe bleeding, and a pregnant woman with cramping!”

  Tom looked from Braden to Hudson, who shrugged. “I’ve got the bleeder.”

  “I’ll take the chest pains,” Tom said.

  “Send me the pregnant patient.” Braden headed to the nearest sink to scrub his hands. He wasn’t an obstetrician, but he’d delivered babies with much less equipment in much less sterile conditions, so he felt sure he could handle this situation.

  The young woman, a blonde named Aurora Michaels, said she was eighteen and seven months pregnant. She’d been into the center earlier in her pregnancy and hadn’t been back since. She just barely met the metrics for a safe weight at this stage of her pregnancy, and she appeared exhausted, causing his heart to twist at the sight.

  He examined her, then used the sonogram machine to check on the baby, making conversation as he ran the wand over her stomach. “Are the contractions regular?” he asked.

  “No. They just made me nervous. It’s too early to have my baby,” she said, tears in her eyes along with the trembling fear in her voice.

  “Well, that’s a good sign. Are the contractions getting stronger?”

  She shook her head. “It’s just a tightening that’s uncomfortable and it comes and goes.”

  “Okay, let’s see. Do you want to know if you’re having a boy or a girl?”

  Her eyes opened wide. “I… Yes. Please.”

  He didn’t have to look too intently. “It’s a girl,” he said with a smile. “And she looks good.”

  The young woman on the table visibly relaxed, a tear slipping out of one eye. Poor kid, he thought, wondering if she was all alone. He’d have to tiptoe carefully in order to find out.

  “Are you getting enough sleep? I know it’s harder the later you go in the third trimester.” He’d start with basic questions about her life and hope for truthful answers.

  She bit down on her lip. “Sometimes. Depends on the night.”

  “And food? Are you eating okay?” he asked, checking measurements of the baby’s head. All looked good. He breathed out his own sigh of relief.

  She nodded. “The diner where I work lets me eat for free.”

  “Yeah? Is the food good?”

  She treated him to a small smile. “Not bad. Merry’s husband, Sonny, is a pretty good cook.”

  “What’s the name? Maybe I’ll check it out some
time.”

  “Merry’s,” she said.

  “After Merry. Got it.” He tucked the information away and decided to push a little further. “What about your living arrangements?”

  This time she pulled her lip into her mouth before letting go. “I’m fine.”

  He cleaned off the transducer and hooked it onto the side of the machine, covering her belly with a sheet before meeting her gaze. “Just tell me you’re not living on the street, because if you are, I can help you find a safe place to stay.”

  She shook her head. “There’s a back room in the diner. Merry and Sonny let me stay there. They’ve been good to me.”

  “I’m glad.” He wondered about the baby’s father but decided to let it go for now. “Any family?” he couldn’t not ask. As much as it was his job to treat the patient, he had a driving need to be sure she was safe, as well.

  She shook her head. “I aged out of foster care. I was already pregnant at the time. But I get by,” she said defensively, her foster care story reminding him of a different blonde he knew and whose walls he was also trying to breach.

  “I’m sure you are. Do you have a plan for post-delivery?” She couldn’t continue to stay in the back room of a diner with a baby.

  “Am I finished? You said the baby’s okay, right? So what’s with the contractions?”

  She put a barrier up between them, and he took her words as a no. No plan for herself and her child once she was born. Since he’d be working here, he hoped he could see her more often and help her figure out what she was going to do. For now, he’d pried enough.

  He rose from his stool. “You’re not in preterm labor, which is good news. What you’re experiencing are called Braxton Hicks contractions. It’s the body’s way of getting ready for delivery,” he assured her. “But you did the right thing coming here.”

  She released another heavy breath. “Okay, good.”

  “You can get dressed now. I think you should come back once a week.” At this stage and with a normal pregnancy, an obstetrician would see a patient every two weeks, but with her precarious living and support situation, he’d feel better keeping an eye on her.