Part 23 (1/2)

I dropped my forehead so that it was touching his and lifted my arms so that they were resting loosely across his shoulders. The water swirling around where we were so intimately joined was warm. Rome was warmer. On every glide up and every slide down, I made sure that he could see how I felt s.h.i.+ning through our locked gaze. I didn't just see him and all that he was: to me he was the only thing worth looking at. I knew by what was staring back at me in the endless depth of those blue eyes that he felt the exact same way, and that was undeniably precious.

We'd never had s.e.x that was slow and agonizingly drawn out. There was something to be said for the antic.i.p.ation, the heady throb between my legs, and the pulse at the base of my neck. There was reverence in the way we touched each other, like we both knew just how lucky we were to be able to touch each other like this still. Every brush of his mouth across my skin, every nip of teeth against a tender place, reminded me that I had almost lost him and this was life-changing and life-affirming. With each up-and-down drag and pull of aroused skin against pulsing flesh, I could see the vein in his neck and the muscle at the side of his mouth twitch. It was the best kind of torture and probably did more to make him feel better than any of the medication he was currently on. Even if he was normally a more hands-on-type lover, there was no mistaking the fact that he needed this right now.

In typical Rome fas.h.i.+on, all the s.e.xy wait-for-it was only enough for a few minutes. Narrowing his eyes, he flashed me a wicked grin and drove those talented fingers between us so that they were hooked around my ring and pressing against my c.l.i.t. There was no holding out against that kind of sensual a.s.sault and it had the desired effect. I forgot we were supposed to be taking it easy and went to work getting us both off in a matter of minutes. It was more of a sweet cresting than a brain-boggling explosion like it normally was, but it still made my limbs heavy and the rest of me flush with satisfied pleasure. Anything this man wanted to give me was going to end with both of us smiling, there was no doubt about it.

I giggled a little bit and rested my cheek on his shoulder. His thumb left the metal between my legs and skated up my ribs to stroke lovingly back and forth across my new tattoo. I could feel the edge of his blunt fingernail trace the outline of his name even though he couldn't see it because I was lying entirely on top of him.

”You okay?”

He grunted and wiggled the fingers on his bad side so that he could stroke my thigh.

”Better than okay. Doctors don't know what they're talking about. s.e.x makes everything better.”

I sighed because it might have felt great, but his eyes were darker than normal with shadows of discomfort and those white lines of pain were back next to his eyes. I tried to disengage from him as carefully as possible, which only led to getting the rest of the bathwater on the floor. I just shook my head and wrapped myself up in a fluffy towel. He was cradling his injured side and his thick thigh muscle was clenching and unclenching involuntarily. He looked sated but not in any kind of hurry to move.

He stroked a hand over his still-furry face and looked up at me in question.

”Thought you wanted this gone?”

I considered him thoughtfully for a second, then reached down both hands to help him lever himself up. We almost ended up back in a tangled heap in the tub due to the wet floor and his unwieldy bulk, but somehow I got him to his feet and a towel wrapped around his trim waist.

”I think I might want you to keep it until you're all the way healed up.”

I got him to the bed and scooted around the room, throwing on some stretchy yoga pants and an oversized T-s.h.i.+rt so I could clean up the tsunami we left in the bathroom. I could feel his eyes follow me as I bopped around.

”Why?”

I froze for a second and looked at him over my shoulder. Was he really going to make me spell it out for him? I could tell by the half grin dancing around his mouth that he already knew.

”Why what?”

”Why keep it if you don't like it?”

He always had to have the last word, so I slid up next to his hip on the bed, yanked on the long hairs at the tip of his chin, looked him dead in the eye, and told him, ”It tickles. I want to know what it feels like when you can get yourself back down between my legs. Can't wait, big guy.”

The blue in his eyes blazed so bright and hot I was surprised steam didn't start to come up off of the water droplets still clinging to his damp skin. I laughed and pushed up off the bed, only to be stopped with his hand on my wrist. His look was serious but his voice was soft when he told me: ”You are everything to me, Cora.”

Seriously ... and I worried about him not being the perfect guy? If that was what imperfect got me, I was the luckiest girl in the world. I was going to tell him I felt the same way but he tugged me over him, grinned up at me, and told me to climb up and straddle his face so that he could tickle me the rest of the night. I wanted to laugh but I was equal parts turned on and angry that once again he got the last word.

EPILOGUE.

Thanksgiving

”We need to go to the hospital.”

I dropped the Allen wrench I was using to put the crib together on the floor and jumped to my feet. Cora was in the doorway to the nursery twisting her hands together.

”The baby?” I didn't want to ask; the worst thing I could think of started chasing through my mind even though she had just had a checkup and come away from it the epitome of good health. We also knew we were having a little girl, which blew my mind and already had me in a state of perpetual panic.

”No, it's Phil. Nash just called. It's bad. Dad's already in the truck waiting on us.”

Cora's dad, Joe, had finally flown out for the holidays and to my relief I got on with the older sailor just fine. Instead of going to Brookside with Rule and Shaw for Thanksgiving with my folks, we had stayed in town and done the holiday thing with just the three of us. Cora had tried to get Nash to bring his uncle, but Phil was still acting strange. He was still avoiding Nash and not showing up at the shop, which had prompted Nash to plan a surprise Thanksgiving invasion of his uncle's fis.h.i.+ng cabin on the outskirts of Boulder.

”What's wrong?”

She shook her head and I could see the worry etched on her pretty face. I pulled her into a tight hug and her arms immediately went around my waist.

”Nash didn't know. He said when he got to the cabin he thought it was empty, but Phil's bike was there. He broke in the door and Phil was unconscious on the floor. He had to call Park Service to get help to get him out. They apparently airlifted him here. I called Rule and he and Shaw are on the way down the mountain. Rowdy, Jet, and Ayden are at the bar with Asa, doing Thanksgiving for the vets, but it's almost over. Ayden said they would meet us there, but if it's as bad as Nash made it sound, I don't know that he's going to want a crowd around. Dad and Phil go way back, so there's no way I can keep him from going.”

”If I need to run interference I will, Half-Pint. You know it.”

She gave me a hard squeeze and I saw her put her protective mask in place. She was a warrior in her own right, always ready to march into battle and protect the ones she loved from anything she thought could do them harm or hurt them. I gave one last look at the delicate, white crib and followed her out the bedroom door. Disarming a roadside bomb was easier than putting together baby furniture. All the little parts and pieces were not designed for a guy with paws like mine. At least Cora found it hilarious every time she walked in to find me swearing and threatening death upon inanimate objects.

We put the nursery in Asa's old room because Jet and Ayden still had a few months until the remodel of his studio was done. Jet was gone so much and Ayden was so busy with work and school I hardly saw either of them. In fact, aside from my girl and brunch on Sunday with the family, the only person I really saw a lot of was Asa. I was busy with the bar because the bar was busy and he was simply my right-hand man. I didn't know if we clicked because we both filled the role of big brother, or if it was because we were both men trying to redefine how we saw ourselves and how others saw us, but we just did. I knew enough to know that he was wily, and crafty; the last two bar fights I had been forced to break up had been because of girls he left high and dry or who hadn't bothered to remember they had a boyfriend before going home with the Southern charmer. There was no doubt he was trouble, but so was Rule. I knew all about how to handle it and I liked to consider the guy a buddy.

I hoisted Cora up into the cab of the truck and roared on to the hospital. She was quiet and her dad was tense. I didn't bother with plat.i.tudes because one military man didn't try and fool another. The situation was unknown, but with Phil's strange behavior and the way he had been avoiding everyone who loved him, it didn't bode well. I grabbed Cora's hand and felt the way it trembled in my own. She was scared, but she would power through it like she always did.

We filed into the hospital, following behind her dad. He had a take-no-prisoners kind of demeanor that was very similar to Cora's, and he got us to the emergency wing way faster than we would have had we been on our own. We came around the corner of the waiting room and there was no missing Nash. That shaved head with the flames tattooed on either side of it was bent down and he was staring intently into the gray eyes of the very pretty redheaded nurse. I kind of considered her a good-luck charm, so I was glad she was there. Cora called his name and his head jerked up to look at us. Something twisted in my chest when I saw that there were very obvious tracks of moisture on his face. Those periwinkle eyes were liquid with sorrow and heartache.

The nurse put a hand on his cheek and he reached up to wrap his fingers around her slim wrist. She said something to him and he nodded solemnly. She pulled her hand away and walked the opposite direction down the hallway. I inclined my head in the direction she went and tapped Joe on the elbow.

”You might want to talk to her. Let your little girl handle Nash. She's good at dealing with her boys.”

He gave a sharp nod and took off after the nurse. Cora pulled free of my hold and went and wrapped herself around Nash. His big body gave a shudder and he buried his face in the curve of her neck. I didn't know what to do with myself, but when he looked up, those lapis eyes locked on to mine.

”Cancer. f.u.c.king lung cancer. They're calling in an oncologist right now, but it's bad.”

I sucked in a breath and saw that Cora was shaking, too. That wasn't good news.

”I'm so sorry, man.”

He blinked like he was in a daze and pulled away from my girl. He scrubbed his hands roughly over his bald scalp and started to pace back and forth like some kind of wild animal in a cage. I pulled Cora back into my arms and ran my hands up and down her back when I felt her tears slide against my neck where she shoved her face.

”I knew something was wrong. For months and months he's been acting weird, not returning calls. He was all gung ho to get a new shop opened, and then that just fell off the map. I let it go and let it go. h.e.l.l, I thought he had a new girlfriend he didn't want anyone to know about, but no, it's motherf.u.c.king cancer. Jesus Christ, smoking. All from G.o.dd.a.m.n smoking.”

”Nash, take a breath. You don't know how bad it is or if it's treatable yet. Don't jump the gun.”

He swore some more and kept moving rapidly back and forth in front of us. His nervous energy was like an electrical charge making the hairs on my arms stand up. I wanted to tell him everything would be fine, that it would all work out, but before I got the chance to say anything, a pet.i.te woman with jet-black hair, dressed like she had just left high tea, followed by a man who clearly wore a suit every day and bossed peons around for a living, burst into the small waiting room. I didn't know who they were, but Cora went stiff in my arms and Nash stopped pacing. The look on his face would have been enough to frighten a herd of stampeding elephants, but not this lady. She shrieked, ”Nashville. Oh, honey, the hospital just called us. Are you okay?”

She hugged him hard, and I didn't miss that he didn't return the gesture. He looked at me and then back at the woman, then purposely took a step away from her. I peeked at Cora, who mouthed ”his mom,” and turned my attention back to the family drama that made the Archers look like the Brady Bunch.

”What are you doing here, Mom? Why would the hospital call you?”

The woman fiddled with the strap on her purse. I was having a hard time seeing any of Nash in her. She was small and pale of complexion; he might have inherited his dark hair from her, but that was all I could tell.