by Abby Brooks
She swallowed, drawing the back of her hand across those lips and I lifted my hands in the air, turning my face to the ceiling. “A-fucking-men!”
A blast of laughter escaped her as she stood. “Did you really just bless your orgasm?”
I drew her to me. “I did, and if you could see the way you looked, and feel the way you felt, you wouldn’t be so judgey.”
She opened her mouth to reply, but a jangling alarm sounded from her purse on the floor near the door. Her eyes went wide. “Oh no! I am so gonna be late for work. I still need to shower and change.”
She shoved a few more bites of breakfast into her mouth and took a swig of my coffee with a grimace—presumably because she could actually taste coffee. Grabbing her shoes and her purse, she rushed toward the door, then paused, turning to me.
A smile lifted her lips and her eyes skated across my face. Unable to stop myself, I strode across the floor, drew her into my arms, and kissed her, inhaling the scent of lilacs like I could download her into my brain and not have to spend the entire day without her.
Her hands came to my face, scraping against the stubble I desperately needed to shave. “I’ll see you when I get home?”
“You better.”
Slowly, sadly, she withdrew from my arms, then pulled open the front door, stopping abruptly when she came face to face with Maxine, enjoying her coffee just like I’d envisioned she would when I redid the backyard.
With her shoes clutched in her arms and the strap from yesterday’s dress slipping off her shoulder, Kennedy burst into laughter. “Don’t say a thing,” she said to her grandma.
Maxine grinned and deliberately took a drink of coffee as Kennedy scurried past her on her way to the house.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Kennedy
Wednesday was perfect. Thursday was sublime. Friday was halfway over and it was shaping up to be just as good, if not better. On my way to the clinic, I called Mom. Her voice blasted through my speakers and I jumped out of my skin before I turned her down. Why did I never remember to adjust the volume for her?
“Heya, lady,” I said as I navigated the sun-bleached streets from Key West Pediatrics to The Community Health Clinic. “How’re you?”
“Better now that I’m talking to my favorite daughter.”
As if I was still sixteen and mortified by parental affection, I rolled my eyes, then laughed quietly at my reaction. She’d said that kind of stuff for years and I loved it even if I was embarrassed to admit it.
“I’m your only daughter.” I delivered my line with gusto.
“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re my favorite.” She waited a beat, probably to add a mental rimshot. Ba-bum-ching! “I’ve been missing our dinner and movie nights.”
I’d never been good at splitting my attention. With Joe dominating my time, my weekly visits with Mom had all but disappeared. “I have, too. But what if I said I had a consolation prize?”
“You know how much I love consolation prizes.” The cheeriness in her voice ratcheted up, undoubtedly to hide her disappointment.
“You’ll be happy to hear that I seem to have found a house husband, as per your advice.”
“What?! You’re engaged? I didn’t even know you were dating someone!”
I tweaked the volume again and checked to see if my ears were bleeding. “I’m not engaged and we’re barely dating.” I explained who Joe was and how we met. “We were still pretty sure we hated each other, and he surprised me with dinner one night when I came home from work just because he knew how tired I’d been. Then, a few days ago, he made me breakfast before work—”
“Breakfast before work?” Insinuation sing-songed over my speakers. “I take it things are progressing quickly?”
Well, shit.
I wasn’t exactly ready to enter into a conversation about my sex-life with my mother, but there we were. “I’m comfortable with the speed.” I hurried on, eager to shift the topic before she started screaming questions about orgasms and dicks. “He has this really gruff exterior, but underneath it, he’s super sweet and generous. Plus, he’s hilarious. Intelligent. Well-traveled. He told me his morning brain was as foggy as the Scottish moors. Isn’t that funny? And he’s so good-looking.”
As proof of his good-looking status, my brain supplied images of his face, staring down at me while I sucked him off Wednesday morning. I shut up before I brought us right back to orgasms and dicks.
Mom sighed dreamily. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you gush about someone like this. Like ever.”
“I’m not gushing.” I was, however, blushing. Furiously.
“You’re totally gushing.”
“Fine. I’m gushing. But he deserves it. He’s…I don’t know, Mom. He feels special.”
“Your dad was like that at first, too. Oh, how I swooned every time he came into a room! This smart, sexy doctor was interested in little old me? And he was such a diligent lover.” Her voice said she was reliving some of those moments.
Over the phone.
With me.
I cringed. “Too far, Mom.”
“I know, I know. Please strike that last comment from the records.”
“Believe me,” I said as I flipped on a turn indicator. “I’m trying.”
“Some men just aren’t meant for relationships.”
Did Mom know she stepped right onto the landmine of fear her failed relationship with Dad had planted in me?
Did she know I considered our family line cursed when it came to love?
I didn’t think so, or else she’d have been more tactful, but that didn’t stop my heart from gallomphing around in my chest as I thought about Joe’s prickly exterior.
With a grimace and a shake of my head, I pushed those thoughts away. “That’s just what I wanted to hear as I’m entering into what might be my first relationship in a decade.”
My inner narrator pulled back in shock.
Was that right? Was Joe the closest I’d come to a relationship in ten years?
I did a quick calculation. Between college, med school, and interning, there really hadn’t been much time for anything but sleep. And sometimes not even that. My love life had definitely fizzled. I’d been fine with it, until very recently. Love was too consuming for someone as busy as me.
Mom groaned. “I wasn’t talking about you and your miracle man. I was talking about your dad. He tried, bless his heart. He really did. But, well, you know the end to our story.”
“I don’t even know if Joe and I have a story yet. We’re just enjoying each other’s company for right now.”
And boy were we enjoying it. In his bed. In mine. In the kitchen. The bathroom. There weren’t all that many places in the guesthouse we hadn’t enjoyed.
And there we were.
Orgasms and dicks.
Again.
“Well,” Mom began in that way of hers that meant she had no idea she was about to offend me. “I’m just glad you have something in your life that isn’t work. It’s nice to see you expanding your horizons.”
I recoiled from the statement. Not offended, just…surprised. “I have plenty in my life that isn’t work. I have you. And Nan. And now I have Joe…”
Huh. And that was it.
Mom let the subject drop. We chatted away the rest of the drive and said our goodbyes as I pulled into the lot in front of the clinic. Her comment about work danced with her comment about my dad and made me a little seasick. I pushed them away as I stepped inside.
“What’s up, Doc?” Dorothy’s bright grin deepened as I sidled up to her desk. “No, but seriously. What’s up? You’re practically glowing. Did you try a new moisturizer? Or finally land that hottie with the body?”
I lifted my eyebrows in what I hoped looked cute and coy and not overly enthusiastic and attached. “About that…”
“You did!” Dorothy slapped her hand on the desk, emphasizing her too-loud voice and drawing the attention of Dr. Fitzgerald as she stepped into the waiting ro
om.
She peered over the rim of her glasses. “Who did what?”
“Uh…I tried eating nothing but fast food for a week to see what effects it had on my health.” The lie rolled smoothly off my tongue and I congratulated myself on my quick thinking. Seeing as I primarily lived off fast food, I’d have an easy time giving her the greasy details if she asked.
Dr. Fitzgerald gave me the slow-blink to end all slow-blinks. “Uh-huh…” Her head bob and sideways glance alerted me to the fact that I still had not mastered the art of dishonesty. As she slipped out of the waiting room, Dorothy waved me in.
“That was a close one,” she whispered. “I don’t even know where you came up with that fast food thing, but she totally bought it.”
I wasn’t so sure that was true, but didn’t want to burst Dorothy’s bubble, so I nodded, smiled, then looked up as the door swung open. A young woman in a well-cared for but ancient blouse and skirt came through with Shane trailing behind. He had her hair and eyes, and gave me a sheepish wave. The woman caught the gesture and zeroed in.
“Are you the doctor who stitched up my son?”
“That’s me.” I waved at Shane and counted my lucky stars that Dr. Fitzgerald had left the room. The less she knew about whatever was about to happen, the better.
I sized up the situation as quickly as I could. The kiddo looked cleaner than I’d ever seen him. And embarrassed. Very embarrassed.
When I turned my attention to his mother, I realized I’d already tried and convicted her as a villain. Somewhere along the way, I’d started imagining her as the kind of monster who abandons children to fend for themselves in this big, bad world. Stringy hair. Bloodshot eyes. Selfish, fuck-the-human-race attitude fully on display.
The woman in front of me reminded me never to judge someone before I understood the situation. Her skin was clear. Her bright eyes sparked with determination and humility. This was no monster. This was a woman bathed in ferocity and love for her child.
“I want to thank you for taking care of my son. I still can’t believe he cut himself so bad and didn’t tell me.” A reproachful look had the boy’s gaze on his feet again.
“Aunt Nadine said not to tell you ‘cause it’d make you sad and then you wouldn’t be able to work anymore.” Shane picked at the hem of his shirt.
A river of emotions coursed through his mother’s eyes and she pulled him close, rustling his hair. “I know, buddy. You did what you thought was right. Can’t fault that, now can I?”
He buried himself into her side. Eyes closed.
“Shane?” She smiled into his upturned face. “Why don’t you get some snacks from that table over there so I can talk to the doctor alone.”
The boy dislodged from his mother and darted to the table. After a quick inspection of the apples, he selected one and chomped down, chewing happily as he surveyed the chip selection.
His mother wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I’m workin’ two jobs while putting myself through school. Shane…he deserves better’n we got now. My sister was supposed to take care of him for me. She’s…well, she’s had problems in the past, but she swore that was all behind her.” The grim set of her jaw spoiled the end of the story. Her sister’s past had snuck into the present.
I nodded, gently encouraging her to continue.
“Come to find out, it wasn’t behind her. Not even a little. From what I hear from Shane, she’s been passed out in front of the TV while my little boy ran the town. When he cut himself, she didn’t even bother to bring him here. She gave a six-year-old directions to a free clinic then made him swear not to tell me because then I’d have to quit my job to take care of him and that would make me sad. All because she’d been evicted from her place and needed somewhere to stay.” Heat blazed in her eyes and I decided right then and there that I believed her.
Maybe I wasn’t that great of a liar, but I knew the truth when I saw it.
Shane’s mother promised she’d found more reliable, but more expensive, childcare. “Thankfully, he’s in school now, so I only need to figure out something for the afternoon and evening.” She shook her head and rubbed a hand over her mouth. “Is there any way I can pay you for working on him? And for the hamburgers you sent home. He told me that was my sister, too.”
“Like I said to him the day I stitched him up, the beauty of this clinic is that the payment structure is based on the income of the person receiving care. Last I checked, a kindergartner doesn’t exactly have an income,” I said, using my best hint, hint, nudge, nudge face. “If he needs any more care, we can get him set up with your income and information and take it from there.”
Shane’s mom looked so relieved, I thought she’d cry. She thanked me again, then left with her apple-chomping son and a promise to be the one to bring him in if he found himself in need of treatment. I watched them joke their way to a beat-up hatchback.
Dorothy appeared at my side, her gaze following mine. “Is his mom as evil as I thought she was?”
“Not at all. In fact, it sounds like she’s killing herself trying to make a better life for her son.” I briefly outlined the story as it was told to me. “I was seriously considering reporting her for neglect, and here she is, doing everything she can to improve her situation, then being taken advantage of by her sister.”
What if I hadn’t talked to Nan and Joe about my concerns? What if I hadn’t listened to Joe’s advice to learn more about the situation before I plunged headfirst into a solution? What if I’d hard-charged based on what I thought I knew and wrecked their little family?
As I wrestled with those questions, my phone pinged with a call that I sent to voicemail. When the transcript came in, I laughed as I read.
My apartment was ready for me to move back in.
The universe was showering me with good news.
Though, I hadn’t exactly had time to replace my ruined furniture. And leaving Nan’s house meant I’d have less time to spend with Joe. Maybe I wasn’t in as big a rush to move home as I thought I’d be.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Joe
Replacing the stairs leading from the first floor to the second had been glaring at me from my To Do list for weeks.
It needed done. I’d feel better once it was…but I kept putting it off.
And I had good reason.
With the bathroom and the bedrooms upstairs, taking out access to the second floor would be a major inconvenience for Kennedy and Maxine. If I waited too long to get things fixed, the bathroom in the guesthouse would quickly become a high traffic area. Not that I cared about the intrusions…
…okay, scratch that. I cared about the intrusions. My privacy was important to me and the thought of two extra people traipsing through my space set my teeth on edge.
Once I took out that first step, the clock would start ticking and I did not work well under pressure. Deadlines were my mortal enemy, guaranteeing a bad mood and questionable decisions to get the job done in time.
When you added the fact that I knew surprises surely lurked under that squeaking wood, just waiting to set me back a week or two, it was easy to see why I postponed the project day after day.
After day.
For some copper-haired reason, I’d been feeling invincible lately, so Friday morning after Kennedy left for work and Maxine left for who knew what, I got busy.
Earbuds in. Old wood out.
The hiss and thump of the nail gun.
The promise of a great fucking night ahead. Of course, you could rearrange that sentence and it’d still be true. There was also a promise of a great night fucking ahead.
I grinned. “Man, of course I come up with something like that without Lucas or Collin around to hear it.”
And so, I laughed to myself, imagining their groans of reluctant appreciation.
If I’d known it was possible to be in such a good mood, I’d have stopped following Collin on his tours sooner. Stopped living my life as an extension of his and started living for me. Alth
ough, I couldn’t have separated from him any earlier than I did because he needed me…right up until he didn’t anymore.
The thought felt cumbersome in comparison to everything else. I pushed it away and focused on the stairs, pleased not to find any surprises waiting for me underneath. As I got to work on the last step, the front door burst open in an explosion of sunlight and Kennedy.
“Honey! I’m home!” She closed the door and I smiled at the lack of shoulder ramming and cursing it required. “Wow! Look at this! Are you telling me I can sneak out of my bedroom without Nan knowing?”
“That’s right, Penny,” I said in my best gameshow announcer voice. “You’re free to have all the impromptu midnight snacks you want. And the best part? No one will know!”
She hit me with a dirty look. “I wasn’t talking about food.”
I returned her smoldering gaze. “Neither was I.”
Wiping my hands on my jeans, I met her at the bottom of the stairs, then slid my arms around her waist, flexed my fingers against her lower back, and drew her in for a kiss. That feminine gasp in the back of her throat was all the reward I needed.
Hot.
Tortured.
Needy.
My dick saluted his agreement with my assessment, then sagged in disappointment when she stepped out of my arms.
“You won’t believe what happened today.” She leaned against the banister, absently running her hands along the untreated wood in a way that sent my imagination off to the filthiest of places.
I wrenched my focus away from her hypnotic movement and squinted, tilting my head as if I could read the answer right off her face. “You won the lotto.”
“No.” She rewarded my joke with a giggle.
“Aliens landed outside the clinic.”
“Here I am, eager to share some great news.” She twisted those fuck-me lips into a pout. “And you’re being ridiculous. I have to admit, I didn’t see this coming, Wiki.”