Authors: Laura Drewry
“Mmmm.” She squirmed against him, slowly stretching, then collapsing back against him. “D’you say something?”
“Nah. Nothing important.”
“Want some water?” She pressed a kiss against his chest and crawled out of bed, leaving a huge empty spot next to him, inside him.
All that time in the car yesterday, he wondered how he’d tell her the rest of what happened when he was sick. If he had any hope of a chance with her, he needed to tell her, but if he did, he was giving her a good solid reason to walk away and not look back. Was he ready for that? No. So maybe he was better off not telling her just yet. Maybe he’d wait a while. Maybe he’d…
Fuck
. He needed to man up and just tell her. Now, before this went any further.
Forcing a breath past the growing knot in his throat, Carter tugged his boxers back on and followed her as far as the breakfast bar, where he half perched, half sat on the first stool he could reach and blurted the words out as fast and hard as he could. Like pulling off a bandage; do it quick.
“I can’t have kids.” The words hung in the air for a long time, hovering between them like a thought bubble in a cartoon waiting for the Road Runner to reach up and pop it. Regan stopped, shut off the water, and turned slowly, her head tipped slightly. For a split second, he thought she was going to frown, but then that mouth of hers slowly twitched up at the corner as she took a long, slow sip of her water, then set the glass down.
“Well, unless you’ve had some kind of surgery I don’t know about, I never expected you could.” Arms folded, she cocked a hip against the cupboard and spoke to him in slow, measured tones, as though he was some kind of moron. “Having kids is usually the woman’s job, and I bet if you hadn’t spent so much time studying the fine art of ice-pack placement, you might have learned that in med school.”
See, right there—that was one of the reasons he loved her. Anyone else would’ve…ooooh shiiit.
He loved her. He. Loved. Regan.
There weren’t many things he’d known for certain in his life, but this…this was about as clear as crystal ever got, and now that he knew it, now that he was sitting right there, maybe two feet away from her—
He had no frickin’ idea what he was supposed to do.
He’d never even considered the idea he’d fall in love, never could have imagined it would be with a woman like her, and never in a billion kazillion years would he have guessed there might be a chance that she’d…
Whoa up there, buddy. You still don’t know jack shit about what chance you might or might not have with her yet, so don’t go and do anything that’s going to screw this up
.
Right. Okay. Keep it cool.
“Sure, you can laugh now,” he said, grinning back at her. “But if it wasn’t for me and my unique talents, there’s no telling how much you might have suffered.”
“Oh, I know,” she mocked. “If that cloth hadn’t been placed so perfectly, or, God forbid, one of those ice cubes had melted too quickly…there’s no telling what kind of horrors might have ensued.”
He swallowed hard as she stepped around the counter, her green eyes wide, her pupils dilated and her mouth still curved up into one of those little smirks he loved so much. Without a word, she took his hand, gave it a gentle tug, and led him right back into the bedroom, right back into her bed, and right back to where she breathed his name in one of those long sexy sighs.
When she was done having her way with him—again—she set her chin on his chest and looked up at him, her fingers running slowly across his shoulder.
“Can I ask you something?”
He didn’t even hesitate. “Anything.”
“I assume you not being able to have kids is from the cancer treatment.”
He nodded.
“Didn’t your doctors give you any options? I mean, you always hear about men who have their sperm frozen for any number of reasons, why wouldn’t they have done that for you?”
Carter chuckled quietly, even though there was nothing funny about this, and pulled the blanket up over them.
“You have to understand what it was like,” he said slowly. “It was all Mom could do to sit through discussions on chemo and radiation; she was in no condition to even think about her fourteen-year-old son going off to the back room with a
Playboy
and a paper cup.”
“Carter.”
“I’m serious,” he laughed. “And I don’t blame her because there was no way in hell I was going to talk about in front of her, either.”
“So what happened?” Her frown deepened when he winced.
“I was still solidly locked down in my pissed-off stage when they came in to talk to me about it, and I, uh—”
“You what?”
Carter closed his eyes, exhaled a long breath, and forced himself to look down at her. “I told them to go fuck themselves.”
“Wow,” she grunted. “You really were a little ray of sunshine, weren’t you?”
“Yeah.” He rubbed his hand up over his face and shrugged, but it did nothing to ease his guilt. “Not one of my more stellar moments, and it didn’t matter how many times they tried to talk about it, my answer was always pretty much the same, and then it was too late because we needed to start treatment.”
“You were a kid, Carter, and your poor mother was no doubt terrified, so you both did what you had to do to get through it.” Regan lifted her chin high enough that she could slip her hands under it. “You shouldn’t feel guilty about it, or wish you could change it, because you can’t.”
“I know, but something like this—” He ran his hand slowly up and down her back and forced himself to keep his gaze locked on hers to see if she flinched at what he was about to say. “It’s pretty much a deal-breaker for most chicks.”
“Hmmm.” She grunted dubiously and a second later grinned up at him. “So what d’you think? You up for another round?”
“Hell yeah,” he snorted. “But I’m gonna need more than just a grunt on this, Red. I wouldn’t blame you if—”
“Seriously, Carter. How many times do I have to tell you this?” Wiggling and shifting under the blanket, she moved over him, covering him with her soft curves. She’d done it before, her way of letting him know she wanted more, but this time it felt different; possessive, protective. Permanent.
He’d never thought he could feel any of this, never wanted to think there might be someone he’d
want
to feel it with. Scared he’d do something stupid like drop the L-bomb and scare her off, he couldn’t look at her, so he fixed his gaze on the crazy mess of her hair as he fought to get words past his parched throat and across his paralyzed tongue.
“Tell me, uh, what?”
She leaned up, her elbows digging into his chest as she took his face in her hands and waited for him to find the courage to look back at her.
“I’m not a chick.”
Just because she was awake didn’t mean she had to open her eyes. She already knew everything she had to know without seeing it.
Carter was gone.
His sent lingered on her sheets, and the feel of his touch still danced across her skin, but that was all she had left of him.
“Come on, girl,” she huffed. “You’re the one who told him you didn’t like sleepovers, so open your eyes and get your ass out of bed.”
Girlie Regan groaned in protest, but as usual, she was quickly gagged and thrown in the corner. There was no time for that nonsense when there was work to do, and God knew, Regan had plenty to do in the next couple of days.
“How’d it go yesterday?” Ellie asked when Regan climbed into the passenger seat.
It was on her tongue to give her usual answer, but one raised eyebrow from her friend and she just sighed. “About the same as it always does.”
“I’m sorry.” With a quick glance over her shoulder, Ellie whipped the car away from the curb and raced toward the stop sign. “And Carter? How’d he make out?”
Oooh, he’d made out just fine. More than fine, actually. Regan’s lip twitched against a smirk, but she managed to hide it by turning and looking out her window.
“Yeah, he was fine. He didn’t freak out, so that was good.”
“Hmm,” she grunted. “I have to admit, Reg, the more I hear about Carter, the more I think he might not be as much of an ass-hat as I thought he was.”
Regan laughed, then pressed her fingers into the roof of the car to keep her balance as Ellie peeled right and accelerated down the highway.
“I’m sorry to make you go in this early,” Ellie said. “Do you want to come to the store for coffee before you go to work?”
“Thanks,” Regan said, trying not to press her feet too hard into the floorboards. “But I’ve got some things I need to go over with Julia before the day begins. Need the car again today?”
“If you don’t need it, yeah. The parts for mine are supposed to arrive this morning, but they said they probably wouldn’t start on it until this afternoon—”
“Which really means tomorrow afternoon,” Regan laughed.
“Exactly, and I have to pick up some boxes at the bus depot and…”
Regan held on and tried not to squeal as they wheeled around the next corner. “Get me to work in one piece and the car’s yours.”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” Ellie grinned as she cranked the car into one of the parking spots behind her store, then bobbed her head toward the lone vehicle parked at the clinic. “Looks like Julia beat you in again.”
“She usually does,” Regan answered. “But this is early even for her. See you later.”
Thankful to be out of Ellie’s NASCAR sprint cup race, Regan let herself into the office, left her coat hanging over the back of her chair, and followed the violins of Vivaldi’s
Four Seasons
down to Julia’s office. It was the same piece of music almost every morning, and while Regan used to like the piece, now…well, now it was just annoying.
The door was half open, so Regan tapped a couple times and walked in.
“Hey, Julia, can we talk for a min—oh!” Slapping her hand over her eyes, Regan whirled around, fought her way past the door frame and stumbled back down the hall, trying to shut out what she’d just seen, trying to outrun the sounds of fumbling, scrambling, and cursing that followed behind her.
“Regan, wait!” Julia cried. “Just wait!”
With her hands gripping the back of her chair and her teeth clenched tight, Regan inhaled slowly and turned.
“This is…” Standing in nothing but Rossick’s misbuttoned shirt, Julia pressed her hands over her eyes, then shoved them back through her already disheveled hair. “We, um…”
“Obviously weren’t expecting you,” Rossick finished, still fumbling with his fly. “You’re early.”
“Oh,
I’m sorry,
” Regan cried, pressing her hands over her chest. “Maybe next time you decide to have sex in Julia’s office, you could leave a hanger on the door! Or here’s a good idea—
have sex at home
!”
“Yeah, like that’s ever gonna happen.”
Julia shot Rossick a hard glare before turning back to Regan, but she didn’t have to say a word, it was written all over her guilty face.
“Carter doesn’t know.” Regan slumped back against her desk as everything started clicking into place: the vibe she felt the first time she’d met them, the number of times they both had plans when Carter was working a twenty-four-hour shift…and Valentine’s night when Regan called to invite Julia over. “Why didn’t you tell him?”
The two of them just looked at each other for a while before Julia finally blew out a slow breath.
“At first we weren’t sure what was going to happen, and we didn’t want to jinx it, so it was easier to keep it to ourselves. But you know how it is; the longer you put something off, the harder it gets, and then—”
“Wait.” Regan blinked hard, then squinted back at them. “How long are we talking here?”
“Not that long,” Rossick shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Julia?”
Julia hesitated a while before answering. “Couple months.”
“A couple months?”
Regan roared, shoving herself away from the desk again, her brain scrambling to process everything. “So the whole time you were on Carter and me about keeping everything professional here, about how you can’t afford for things to go sideways and have a relationship affect the business…that whole time you two were already together?”
“Yes,” she said slowly, finally looking up, first at Regan, then at Rossick. “But…I mean…well…this is different.”
“Really?” Regan folded her arms tight across her stomach and tipped her head to the side. “How’s that?”
“Well, for starters,” Rossick grunted. “Jules wasn’t a one-night stand.”
“Oh my God,” Julia groaned, burying her face in her hands, but Regan was already on the move, gathering up her stuff.
“Screw you, Rossick.”
“What?” As he turned a quizzical eye to Julia, it was like his brain suddenly registered what he’d just said. His eyes flew wide open and he tripped all over himself trying to apologize. “I didn’t mean…Regan, wait, it’s just, you know…Carter…and…and…
women
…and then…you…and him, and…and you said it wasn’t…I didn’t mean—”
“You know what, Rossick?” Regan whirled around, her coat jerking around in her fist as she jammed it in his direction. “I don’t give a shit what you think about me. I don’t care that you didn’t trust me, I don’t even care what you
think
you know about Carter and me, because you don’t know jack shit. But how could you ever think he’d do anything to jeopardize this place?”
“We didn’t think he’d do it intentionally, Regan, but he wasn’t invested in it like we were. God’s sake, he’s never invested himself in anything.” Her words came out heavy, weighted down with what sounded like a heavy dose of guilt for saying those things about him, yet still feeling justified in doing so. “He wouldn’t even give an opinion on the apartment we rented—he just tagged along with whatever we decided like he usually does.”
“If he found out about us,” Rossick said slowly, “how were we supposed to stop him from carrying on with any of the women we hired? I mean, come on, we all know he goes through women like—”
“Shut up, Rossick.”
Rage bubbled in Regan’s veins, and it was getting harder and harder to keep it contained. She stopped, took a long, deep breath, and held up both her hands, palms out. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore. I quit.”