Stella

Thanksgiving came and went. We had it at the townhouse. My brother made it home, and Levi traveled to New York for the very first time. Everybody came with the exception of Dane’s sister who couldn’t fly so close to her due date.

Dane was as excited about it as a kid at Disneyland. It made sense once he told me he never had a traditional Thanksgiving, that he’d always been busy with games, team meetings, or film study.

Quietly, without too much fanfare, our lives had seamlessly woven together. Things were good…almost too good.

“When were you going to tell me?” Tina asks as soon as I answer my cell phone, skipping right over the pleasantries. “When the baby graduated from college?”

I’m a coward. I fully admit it. For months I’ve been mulling over how to tell her and kept coming up empty.

It takes me a minute to answer. “I’m so sorry. I tried to call you a thousand times, I really did, but…I didn’t know what to say.”

“Jesus, Stel, you’re my family. I love you more than Will some days.”

I chuckle. First, because I know how crazy in love those two are. And second, because it’s a relief to hear her joking again. Tears funnel down my cheeks. I don’t bother brushing them away.

“Do you honestly think I don’t want you to get everything you want? I’m the one that told you not to wait.”

That one is a twist of the knife. Of course she wants me to be happy. Envy never crossed my mind. “I know…I know you do. I just…I don’t know. You were so sad and I didn’t want to rub it in…How are you doing?”

Silence hangs for a beat. “Will keeps talking about fostering.” Her tone tentative, I endeavor not to say too much in fear it might push her in the wrong direction.

“How do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know yet, let’s talk about you. Tell me everything. And I mean everything. Your mother says this guy is hot as fuck.”

“Yeah, I doubt my mother said that.”

“Paraphrasing––she said he’s handsome and treats you like a queen.”

I snuggle into Dane’s enormous down-filled couch while the man she speaks of is at a network dinner meeting. Does Dane treat me like a queen? He does––when he’s not going Cro-Magnon on me and stomping around and grumbling about mushroom heads and leather belts.

“Yeah…he does.”

“Are you in love with him?”

“I wish I could say no but I can’t…He’s wonderful, T. He’s wonderful in ways I never even knew a man could be…it’s kind of scary.”

“I bet.” If anyone knows my triggers, it’s Tina.

“I picked him purposely because I didn’t think there was a snowball’s chance in hell of this happening.”

“Never say never,” she says. A throwaway comment. Little does she know the impact of those three simple words.

“What did you say?” Getting off the couch, I walk into the bathroom to pee.

“Never say never.”

“Huh, weird. Those are the same exact words a friend of mine used.”

I pull down my leggings and my knees go weak. I stare and stare. There’s a rushing sound in my ears. It drowns out my cousin’s voice.

“T…I…I…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Blood…I’m…I gotta go.”

* * *

Dane

It’s taken three glasses of Macallan and two of wine to get me through this dinner without losing my mind.

I’m drunk. I had no intention of drinking this much, but these yahoos from the network kept wanting to hear locker room trash talk and the only way I could stomach tellin’ ’em was with a few drinks to chase the bitter taste away.

I’m not that man anymore. I don’t want anything to do with the guy I once was. All I want to do is crawl into bed with the woman I love, sink into her body, and let her hold me.

I get it now. I get why my father spent the better part of his life wanting a woman that was never worthy of him. I get why Noah hasn’t touched one in ages while he pines for the one he lost. I get why J would dump me in a heartbeat to spend alone time with Nyla. I get why men go nuts when they fall in love.

Because it’s fucking worth it. I’m flying so high half the time even these network idiots don’t bother me as much as they should. I had no idea what I was missing until Stella happened.

She’s everything to me. My comfort and my desire, my good time and my meaningful moment all wrapped into one short, sexy package. If somebody would’ve told me one person could be all that and more, a mere six months ago, I would’ve called him a fool to his face.

I’m not saying it’s perfect. Or that it’s always gonna be this easy. Love can inflict some serious damage, no doubt about it. It’s a beautiful double-edged blade. It can destroy as easily as it can save you. I’ve been a witness to the former most of my life. The trick is finding the right person to love, and being one lucky sonovabitch, I did it without even trying.

She hasn’t said it yet, that she loves me, and it’s killing me but I am not going to push. I’m not going to give her a reason to pull away because she’s scared of her feelings for me. I’ll wait it out. I can be patient.

“…and then she said it’s too big and then I said that’s what she said.”

All three yahoos laugh hard enough to be heard over the crowd, faces turning red while I can barely manage to smile. Under the table I pull out my phone and glance at the screen. 11:30. It may as well be 4 a.m. Below that I see a long list of text messages from Stella that I missed.

What the fuck. I didn’t hear the phone ring over the noise of the restaurant.

“Excuse me, guys. I’ve gotta make a call.”

I get up without waiting for an answer and march quickly past the bar.

“Daaane! Oh my Gaawwwd. Long time no seeeee!” A woman’s voice rises above the rest. Slim arms snake around my neck and before I know what’s up, Christy is kissing me on the lips. I pry her off and she smiles at me. Eyelids lazy, smile crooked. Drinking isn’t the only thing she’s been doing. I don’t have time to deal with this.

“Drink some coffee and go home, Christy. You look like shit.”

She frowns, offended. In another life I would’ve made sure she got home safely. Tonight, however, there’s only one person I’m concerned with and it ain’t her. Without looking back, I’m out the door, hitting the playback on the first message. I stand on the sidewalk with the phone to one ear and a finger pressed to the other. Shortly after that I’m sprinting down the street after an available cab.

Tires screeching, it comes to a hard stop and I slide in. “New York University Hospital,” I bark, my heart nearly crashing out of my chest.

Fifteen minutes later I throw a hundred dollar bill in the front seat, and jump out of the cab before it can come to a full stop.

“Crazy man!” the cabbie shouts.

Even though I’m drunk and my knee hurts somethin’ awful, I run through the sliding glass doors of the hospital, almost trip over a man in a wheelchair, and don’t stop running until I reach the check-in desk.

“Stella Donovan. My wife,” I say, yanking off my tie and shoving it in the pocket of my suit. It comes out naturally, without thought or hesitation.

The chick manning the desk blinks up at me. There’s a momentary flash of recognition, which also means she knows I’m not married. I dare this woman to argue in the state I’m in. I dare her.

She scans some paperwork and nods. “Yeah, she’s here. Driver’s license, please,” she says, holding out a hand.

Not gonna happen. I don’t have time to explain our situation so I take off down the hall while she shouts after me.

As soon as I enter the ER, I spot Delia at the end of the hallway and my steps slow. She frowns, lips drawing into a tight line. This is the epic karmic ass-kicking I knew was coming. This is it. Time to face the consequences like a man. I keep walking until only a few feet separate us.

“How is she?”

“Scared. I was going to find out when she can be discharged.” I nod, my nerves balancing on razor’s edge. I’m about to take off down the hall when her voice stops me. “She’s okay, Dane. So is the baby.”

A surge of relief steals my strength away, making me double over with my hands on my knees.

“Are you going to be sick?”

“Gimme a minute,” I tell her breathing through my nose. A hand on my back pats twice. After a few deep breaths, I stand back up. “How badly did I fuck up?”

“Nothing you can’t fix––if you want to,” she answers with unexpected sympathy.

“I’ll do anything to fix this. Now if you’ll excuse me.” She starts to walk away. “Hey, Delia.” Looking over her shoulder, she meets my gaze. “Thank you.”

She nods and I run.

* * *

Stella

The privacy curtain opens halfway and there Dane stands. His tie off, hair sticking up in places like he’s been running a busy hand through it––expression distraught. I want to kiss that look away.

“Baby…” In two strides he’s half sitting on the gurney with his arms around me, and his face pressed into my neck. “I didn’t hear the phone ring,” he murmurs onto the sensitive skin of my throat, the muffled words resonating with pent-up emotion.

I wiggle my arms out of his tight grip, and wrap them around his neck. “It’s okay,” I tell him while I finger-comb his hair back into place. “I got scared when I saw the spotting and I couldn’t reach you.”

Pulling away, his big hands cup my face tenderly. Worry flares in his eyes as brightly as a neon sign.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I whisper.

He looks ready to break apart. It also looks like he’s been drinking. Knowing from firsthand experience how these business dinners go, I don’t mention it. He’s feeling guilty enough without me piling on.

“It’s okay, Dane. I was just being overly cautious.”

“It’s not okay.” Hi jaw pulses with tension, any more and he’ll grind his teeth to powder. “Not even close. This is not how a man takes care of his family.”

Before I can address that ludicrous statement, the curtain opens and a middle-aged woman wearing scrubs walks in.

“Mr. Donovan?” Met with Dane’s silence, she smirks. “I didn’t think so. There are a couple of New York’s finest that need to have a word with you.”

“What’s this about?” I ask, suddenly worried.

Dane tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear and places a quick kiss on my lips. “I ran in here without checking in––” His expression gets intense. “I told them you’re my wife.”

We stare at each other as his words hang between us. Husband and wife? I don’t get the immediate urge to puke, run away, or scream foul. Interesting. For a while I stare at the words, try them on for size. They seem to fit.

“I …” Dane starts.

A cough interrupts, cutting off the rest of whatever he’s about to say. “It’s time to go, whoever you are.”

“He’s my husband.” The words come out without a hitch, my voice firm and commanding. I’m kind of proud of myself, proud enough to smile. Dane’s eyes spark with what could be construed as hope, or joy. Well, I would like to construe it as hope, or joy. It’s definitely something good, though.

“Was everything okay with my wife’s tests? Can she go home?” As he speaks, his undivided attention remains on me. A smile of shared understanding curves his sexy lips.

“I’ll check with the attending doctor.” At the edge of my vision, I can see the nurse’s suspicious gaze slide back and forth between us. “I suggest you come with me and talk to the police, sir.”

Dane gets up and I grab his hand. His eyes fall. At first he stares at our entwined fingers. Then they slide up to my face. He bends over and kisses me. Heartfelt…true. As brief as it is, those sentiments are there, speaking louder than words ever could.

“Be right back.”

* * *

It seems the entire vaunted New York City Police Department is a big fan of the Great Dane Wylder. After he left me, I got dressed, having been given the green light to go home by my OBGYN. In the meantime Dane explained the situation to the two young officers standing outside my room. Autographs were handed out, paraphernalia promised. By the time we were walking out of the hospital, half the nursing staff was lining up to stare at the man with his arm hanging around my shoulders.

I forget that Dane is a public figure. The whole idea of being involved with an honest-to-goodness celebrity is still a very foreign concept to me. One I like to pretend doesn’t exist. Truth be told, dwelling on it makes me nervous. The first time I’ve truly fallen in love and it has to be with a man that’s gorgeous, talented, wealthy, and famous? Basically, this is a worst-case scenario for me.

The next day, while I’m sitting at my desk at work, I turn on my computer and the search bar pops up. A thumbnail of trending news catches my sight. I click on it and freeze.

It’s Dane, in the suit he wore last night. He’s kissing a tall, blonde woman. Like I said, worst-case scenario. One I have good reason to fear it seems.