by Emma Renshaw
Chapter 31
James
Mmmm. Bacon. The delicious scent of bacon sizzling in a pan wakes me up. My arm reaches over, feeling Tatum’s empty spot before rubbing my hand over my face. Unable to keep my eyes open, I start to drift back to sleep when I feel a cool wetness against my cheek. The explosion of warmth in my chest surprises me. Smiling, I pop one eye open, expecting to see Tatum.
It’s not.
Sirius’s wet nose moves against my face as he sniffs me and tries to lick me. “No,” I mumble. “Sorry, little man. No kisses for me.” I pick him up and stand from the bed while keeping Sirius cradled against my chest. He wags his entire body happily. Sirius flops down on the bed when I place him there to pull on some shorts.
He jumps back into my hand when I lay it on the bed. At only a few pounds, he can fit in my palm. Every time I set my hand down, he hops into it like I’m his personal magic carpet ride. It’s been over a month since we found him. I won’t admit this to Tatum, but I actually enjoy having him here.
Tatum’s in her scrubs with her hair piled on top of her head, standing in front of the stove. Her hips sway and she’s singing along to the song playing from her phone. Her brother didn’t lie. She’s terrible, but still damn cute. I sneak up behind her, placing a hand on her hip and a kiss on her neck. The shriek that escapes her mouth makes my eardrums ring.
“Oh, my God,” she breathes, spinning around to face me with her hand covering her heart. “You scared me.”
I bend over, placing Sirius on the ground where he runs in circles around our feet. I give her a wry smile, which she barely catches when she leans over, petting the top of Sirius’s fuzzy head and murmuring to him. “I had to get you to stop singing somehow.”
“I sing like an angel,” she says, standing and placing her hands on her hips.
“A fallen angel, maybe.”
When she gasps, I take advantage of her open mouth. My hand wraps around the nape of her neck, holding her in place as I kiss her, my tongue sliding against hers. She reacts to me immediately, sinking against my chest, pressing up on her tiptoes, her hands wrapping around my back.
By the time our kiss breaks, we’re both panting. Her eyes are dazed, still staring at my lips. I kiss her softly then step back, grabbing myself a cup of coffee while she turns back to the stove. “I’m making you breakfast,” she says.
“Thanks. You didn’t need to do that.”
“We’re celebrating.” Tatum turns off the stove and starts to plate the food.
I grab silverware and our coffee cups, bringing them to the table. “We’re celebrating?” I ask.
“Yes, it’s your last day of PT.” Tatum claps her hands together and bounces on the balls of her feet.
“And that’s cause for a celebratory breakfast? For you, someone who hates waking up, to wake up early and cook me breakfast? It’s worth that?” I rest my hand on the back of the chair staring at her, waiting for her answer.
“Yes,” she says, grinning. “It’s like getting a huge breakfast with pancakes, bacon, and all the good stuff on the first day of school. You know?”
I shake my head, taking a sip of my coffee as I sit down. “Nope.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tatum freeze. I glance up at her, wondering what’s wrong. There’s a pained expression on her face as she stands there, holding our breakfast plates. I jump out of my seat, cupping her face. “What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head as tears well in her eyes. “You never had that?”
I exhale a sigh of relief and brush my thumb along her cheek. “You’re okay?”
She nods, staring into my eyes, breaking my heart with the tears that make the blue of her eyes even more crystal. “No, sunshine. I never had that.”
“I should’ve realized that. I’m sorry I said anything.” Her face turns toward the floor as she breathes deeply
“Don’t.” My finger tucks under her chin, lifting her face to mine.
“But—”
I cut her off with a quick kiss on her lips before sitting back down. “It’s in the past.”
She places the plates on the table, sitting in the chair next to me. Her lips are pursed, and her eyes are glued to her hands twisting in her lap. Tatum’s fierce gaze meets mine, and her hand wraps around the back of my neck, trying to hold me in place so she can look in my eyes. “If I could, I’d give you everything you missed out on.”
I push back from the table then snag her around the waist, bringing her to my lap and cupping her face. Her expression is so earnest. When it’s time to walk away from this, I’m not going to want to let her go. I bring her forehead to mine then wrap her in a hug. Tatum’s face nuzzles my neck, and mine is buried in hers, breathing in the jasmine scent. She’s clutching me so tightly, as if she’ll never let go. She leans back and presses her lips softly to mine.
“You don’t need to worry about my childhood, Tatum,” I whisper.
“I wish it was better,” she says, fresh tears springing to her eyes. “It doesn’t seem fair that I had an amazing childhood, and there are too many other kids like you out there who don’t know some of the simplest pleasures.”
I can’t believe I ever thought this girl was anything but kind and generous. “It does suck that kids go through that, but don’t be upset about my childhood. Not worth it. I’m here now. It wasn’t all bad. My friend Callan made it better and when his little sister came along, we both tried to make hers better.” My lips land on hers again. Disbelief swims in my gut. I haven’t said Callan’s name aloud in a long time. “Thank you for my celebratory breakfast.”
“Maybe you should try getting in contact with Callan?” Tatum asks running her hand over the back of my head.
My hand spasms on her hip. “Can’t.”
“Why?”
“Let’s just celebrate this morning,” I request.
After a moment she smiles, kissing me before she slides back into her chair. The heaviness of the moment is slowly ebbing away as we eat in silence.
“I’m worried,” Tatum says.
“About?” I ask, groaning around a mouth full of fluffy pancakes.
She wipes her mouth with her napkin, placing it on the table next to her plate before twisting in her seat and facing me. “Simon.”
I stop chewing to look at her. “You think he’s going to harass you?”
She twirls a loose strand of hair around her finger as her head tilts to the side as she thinks. “No. Not about that. I’m worried he’s going to report me for seeing you.”
“Is it against the rules?” I abandon the piece of bacon that I was about to eat and swing my torso around to face her completely.
“Not technically, but it’s frowned upon.”
“It’s my last session today. I don’t plan on being shot again anytime soon, so really, I won’t be a patient anymore. It’s a moot point.”
“But—”
“Tatum, don’t worry about it.” I place my palms on her knees and slowly glide up to the top of her thighs. “We’ll cross that bridge if it comes. We never did anything while you were at work. It was professional.”
She nods. “Okay.” She releases a huge sigh then glances at her phone. “I need to go or I’ll be late.” She starts to pick up her plate, but I stop her with a hand on her wrist.
“Go. I got this.”
“Thanks. I’ll see you soon.” She leans over, kissing me. Before she can pull away, I slide my hand into hers, deepening our kiss.
“Thank you for breakfast, sunshine.”
Her eyes melt as she bites her lip. “You’re welcome.”
“I’ll see you soon. Go.” I slap her ass as she bends down, scooping Sirius off the floor to nuzzle his neck, making her giggle. His bright pink tongue is sticking out just a bit, making him look like he’s smiling while soaking up her attention.
After Tatum leaves, I take care of the dishes and Sirius before hopping in the shower to get ready for my appointment.
Tatum is alr
eady in the physical therapy room when I walk in a couple hours later. She’s bent over, her ass high in the air, making my cock stir in my shorts. I grit my teeth, redirecting my mind so everyone doesn’t get a show. I avert my eyes from her body. We’re so close to the finish line of these sessions. They’ve been difficult to get through when she’s that close to me and I can’t touch her the way I want to.
As I’m looking around the room, anywhere but at Tatum, I notice Simon is in the corner, watching her. His focus is trained so hard on her ass, he isn’t blinking at all. His features are filled with rage. My veins turn ice cold as dread sinks in my gut. Getting rid of him isn’t going to be easy. Tatum thinks he’s harmless, but I think he’s toeing the line of insanity.
I quicken my steps, placing my body between Tatum and Simon. With my back to Tatum, I send a furious glower at Simon. His eyes break contact and slide up until they meet mine. I can’t see, but I’m sure his jaw is ticking. Sucking in a huge breath and causing his chest to rise, he balls his hands into fists as he turns toward his patient.
“Hey,” Tatum says from behind me. I turn toward her, still upset that Simon is even near her. “Ready for your last appointment?” She dances a little jig with a bright smile on her face.
“He was staring at you,” I grumble.
“What?” she asks, looking around the room until her eyes land on Simon. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Not here,” she whispers.
“If he comes near you, call me right away.”
“James.” She sighs.
“If he comes near you, call me right away,” I repeat.
“Fine,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Let’s start with some shoulder rolls.”
“Hilarious,” I mutter.
“I know,” she says sweetly. “We’re going to run through our normal routine. Then I’m going to have you lift some weights, just to make sure you’re not feeling any pain.”
“Let’s get it over with.”
“How do you feel?” Tatum asks after I drop a weight to the floor. We ran through our final routine and I’ve spent the last twenty minutes lifting weights.
I smile. “Great.”
She sticks out her hand, beaming. “Congratulations! You’ve graduated Tatum Rothschild’s school of physical therapy.”
My hand slides into hers, letting her shake my hand. I use our joined hands to pull her closer to me—closer than a patient would normally stand to their therapist. “Does that mean I can kiss you now?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head as she bites her lip trying not to grin.
“Celebratory kiss?” I coax, pulling her just a little bit closer until I can smell jasmine and her breath hitches.
“No,” she repeats, laughing, pushing against my chest with her free hand.
“Come over when you get off,” I whisper, leaning close to her.
Her breathing picks up as a saucy grin stretches across her face. “Will you get me off later?”
“Yes,” I groan, desperately wanting to haul her against my body, sink into her warmth, and consume her.
“I’ll see you tonight,” she whispers with heated eyes.
Chapter 32
James
Like a kid at Christmas is a cliché term I understand logically, but never experienced for myself. There wasn’t ever a rush of anticipation of what would be waiting for me under the tree. The big guy in the red suit spreading his cheer for all to hear never came.
I finally get it. The thrill of knowing that something you’ve wanted and waited for is waiting for you, too. My lips are spread widely in an uncomfortable smile I’m not used to. My hands on the wheel are tapping out a steady beat while I stare at the last red light between me and the one thing I’ve been missing.
The force of slamming on the gas sends me jolting back into my seat when the light turns green. The bright white sign with red and black letters standing at the edge of the driveway to the gym is calling me home.
One hundred feet.
The same excitement I feel when Tatum is taking off her shirt rushes through my stomach.
Fifty feet.
When Tatum is naked in front of me, I never know where to caress first. Each part of her is as enticing as the next. I don’t know where I’ll go first or if I’ll bounce around, tasting everything.
I pull into this parking lot every single day. As soon as I was released from the hospital, I was back here, manning my space, watching the equipment move and click was just a tease. No more. Today is the day.
The cold air hits me in the face the moment I step inside the gym. Everything from the huge, bright LEDs overhead to the faint smell of sweat from hard work is refreshing.
“Heads up,” I call out as I throw my bag toward the reception desk, not even pausing to see if it hit Trevor, the guy working at the counter. He’ll store it for me. My energy and focus are trained on what workout or machine I’ll choose first.
An ear-splitting whistle breaks over the noise. Hudson is leaning against a pole near the boxing ring with a grin as big as mine. “Up for some celebratory sparring?” He tosses me my gloves.
“Fuck, yeah,” I say, catching the gloves.
“Sure you’re up for it? How’re ya feeling?” Hudson pulls his own gloves from the bag at his feet, but keeps his eyes trained on me.
“I’m feeling like I want to kick your ass,” I mutter as I drop into a stretch. I quietly add, “thanks for being here.”
“Wouldn’t miss it, brother. Let’s get you back to work, you’re looking a little soft around the edges. You’re going from Incredible Hulk to Marshmallow Man.” Hudson’s shoulders are shaking with silent laughter as he laughs at his own joke. I grab a towel from the bench closest to me, ball it up, and toss it at his head.
A few minutes later Hudson and I are suited up and facing off in the ring, both of us grinning like fools. He bounces on the balls of his feet, shaking out his arms while glancing around the room—always loving an audience, no matter what he’s doing.
I’m his opposite. I’ll gladly hide in the shadows for the rest of my damn life.
Hudson and I circle each other, neither taking the first swing. My arms are up, ready to block, waiting him out. I’m bigger and I’m faster. If I want to really test if I’m truly ready to be back here, I need him to swing first and leave a tiny opening of weakness. Speed and power.
“Need me to go easy on you? I’d hate to hurt you. You haven’t touched any weights in weeks. You’re looking a little scrawny, like a delicate little flower,” Hudson taunts.
I step closer, tightening our revolving circle. Come on. Swing. I know you want to. My shoulder drops slightly and my hand moves just a fraction of an inch, but I smirk knowing it’s enough. He doesn’t need to know I just lifted weights.
Hudson swings a split second before I do, and his body is open just enough for a solid punch to his side.
Victory.
“Oof,” Hudson groans, but the tilt of his lips broadens. “That what you wanted?”
I cock an eyebrow, sending a jab toward him again. He blocks it, bouncing on his feet. “Stop taking it easy,” I demand. His first and only punch wasn’t easy, but his eyes have been falling to my shoulder every other second since my first swing. For as laid-back and easy-going as Hudson is, no one would suspect that he’s actually annoyingly caring.
We circle each other three more times before a voice breaks our concentration.
“You’re not any help to him if you keep babyin’ him.”
Roman stands with his arms crossed over his chest and Harper by his side. Two brown paper bags sit at their feet. Roman looks like he’s ready to step into the ring, but Harper is in a dress and heels, looking perfectly put together, as usual.
I grunt, covering my stomach with my gloved hand and whipping my head back to Hudson. He grins, waggling his eyebrows. “Never take your eye off your opponent. Show me what you got.” He claps his gloves together before motioning me forward with one.<
br />
Slowly, the rest of the group arrives to congratulate me, each man stepping into the ring with me. A peace settles in my chest each time I look over at my friends on the other side of the ropes and remember Tatum will be coming over tonight. Right at this moment, I have everything a man could ever need.
I made it through a couple rounds with Liam, Roman, Hudson, and Kiernan, but I know I need to work on my stamina and strength to get back to where I was. My muscles are burning, and it feels fucking fantastic.
Sweat soaks my shirt when I hop out of the ring, my feet landing firmly on the floor. My racing heart swells with pride knowing I can fucking do this shit again. In the grand scheme of things, it hasn’t been that long, but each day dragged when I was here unable to workout.
Harper steps up to me with a sheen in her eyes while she rubs her belly. She’s just started to really show, no denying that she is really pregnant. Every time I see her, guilt consumes me. She could’ve lost her baby easily that night. I should’ve had more of a guard up, maybe it would’ve turned out differently. Maybe I wouldn’t have been shot.
But then I wouldn’t have met Tatum.
I swallow, bringing up a dry patch of my shirt to wipe across my face, and force myself to refocus. Every moment spent with Tatum makes those two bullets worth it.
“I’m so happy you’re back where you belong, James.” Harper’s tone is quiet and thoughtful.
“Thanks. Happy to be done with physical therapy.”
She takes a deep breath before crashing into me, hugging me around my waist, but retreating just as quickly, pinching her nose. “Make sure you shower if you’re going to see Tatum tonight.”
Hudson lets out a delighted laugh, loving anything that has to do with ribbing me.
“Hilarious,” I mutter.
Harper bends down, reaching into the brown paper bag, and pulls out a food carrier before standing and grinning at me. “We really are so appreciative of everything you helped us with a few months ago and so happy that you’re now fully healed. This is for you.” She hands it to me.