IT HAD BEEN a little over a week since that horrible day Lailah’s fever nearly took her from this world. A fever was so simple for most but extremely deadly for her. It was no wonder her mother had become so controlling regarding every minute detail of Lailah’s life. Her mother had gone over the deep end to ensure Lailah’s safety, but standing on the opposite side of parenthood, I would wager a mother would do anything and everything to keep her child from dying even if it meant keeping the child from living a normal life.
For the most part, life at the hospital had returned to normal. After my forced few days of vacation, I had been allowed to return to work after I’d shown no symptoms of Lailah’s virus, and then Lailah and I had fallen back into our late-night pudding visits. The only difference was the addition of my off-hour daytime drop-ins. A one-hour lunch break wasn’t enough anymore, and I didn’t have an endless bank account to fall back on. I needed my job. Now, more than ever, the hospital had become my home. I would be here morning, noon, and night, only running home to shower, crash for sleep, and plan.
I was always planning.
Movie night hadn’t been the only trick up my sleeve. Since that night, I’d managed to pull off a few other place holders in hopes of making Lailah’s prison sentence a bit more palatable.
We’d had an ice cream parlor one afternoon where I’d brought in ten different flavors of ice cream. We’d proceeded to make a sundae worthy of the cheesy name I’d created for my fictional ice cream endeavor.
“A Dude Named Jude’s Ice Cream Parlor?” she’d asked with a snarky grin.
“Hey, it took me a really long time to think that up. I lost precious hours of sleep.”
“It’s cute.”
“You mean, it’s sexy,” I said with a waggle of my eyebrows as I scooped mint chocolate chip onto a cone.
“Mmm…yes, that, too.”
I’d managed to keep her laughing all afternoon while I served up ice cream cones to the entire staff who managed to find their way to the ice cream without any directions or invitations. Lailah was ecstatic for the commotion and welcomed everyone, talking to doctors and nurses for hours as I played host.
Who knew Jude, the loner, could be so charismatic?
She’d brought that back—the old, lighter version of myself, the part I’d thought died when I watched Megan take her last breath.
I still visited the hallway. It wasn’t often, but I’d been down there briefly—hovering and waiting…for something. For what, I didn’t know.
Am I waiting for a divine sign from my fiancée, telling me everything is as it should be? To hear her voice saying it’s okay to love again?
Fuck, I don’t know.
I still felt the pull between my old life and the new one that seemed to be surfacing, but the guilt was shifting. When I walked the hallway and sat on my bench, looking at the closed door that had belonged to Megan for a brief few days, I would feel guilty for being there, for not sharing this part of myself with a woman who I was supposed to love.
When you love someone, you tell her everything, including the fact that you love her.
But I hadn’t had the courage to do so.
It was still there, on the tip of my tongue.
I’d had so many opportunities over the last few days, yet as I lay in bed, holding her in my arms, I knew I’d let the moments slip by like dust in the wind. Each time I had, I would picture myself back in that lonely hallway, and I hated it. I hated that I was still stuck when everything that lay ahead of me appeared so crystal clear, yet felt so damn murky.
The ice cream parlor had been such a huge success that I’d waltzed into the hospital today, ready for another one. It was my first day off after six nights straight. After a brief stop at a nearby strip mall, I’d arrived just a few hours before lunch, ready to spend the entire day with her.
“You want another one?” She placed her latest paperback down on the bed as she swung her feet over the side.
Her toes dangled in the air, and I caught a flash of lavender nail polish glinting off her big toe. She watched me drop the white paper bag near her bed, but she didn’t say anything.
“Yep, hit me,” I answered with a grin.
She looked up at me, her hands resting close to her knees, as her feet continued swaying back and forth.
She’s so damn cute.
“Okay, number forty-three—dance in the rain.” Her eyes sparkled with unshed laughter.
“You want a place holder for that?” I asked in genuine shocked.
“Yep. I mean, you brought an entire ice cream parlor, complete with sprinkles and cherries, here yesterday. How hard can a little rain be?” She threw in a flirty wink at the end just to spite me.
My nervous babbling girl had quickly transformed into a quick-witted temptress, and I liked it.
“You couldn’t have picked something easier? No, you had to go with rain—in the hospital,” I added.
“Well,” she started, drawing out the word with her melodic voice, “if it’s too hard—”
I didn’t even let her finish. I just stepped forward, closing the small gap between us, and I grabbed her hand. Her eyes widened, and laughter came bursting out of her.
“What are you doing?” she yelped.
I briskly walked us into the bathroom. “Making it rain,” I answered.
I kicked off my shoes and pulled out my cell phone and keys, remembering I still had yet to reveal the contents of what lay hidden in the mystery bag I’d brought.
I mentally shrugged. That can wait. It’s time for some waterworks.
I turned toward her, and she had this what-did-I-get-myself-into look.
I smirked and lunged, hauling us both into the shower. I reached for the handle and turned. Cold water immediately fell onto our heads from the showerhead above.
“Oh my God, you’re nuts! We’re completely clothed and drenched!”
“Well, if we were naked, it would just be a shower.” My eyes raked over her soaked body, loving the way her clothes clung to every inch. “But now that you mention it, a shower sounds really good right now.”
Her breath hitched, and her crystal-blue eyes met mine.
There were so many possibilities in that single moment.
“But you wanted to dance in the rain, so the clothes stay on—for today,” I added with a wolfish grin.
Not pushing her against that ugly white tile and showing her everything I wanted to do to her in that moment was physically painful. But I’d made a promise to her and myself. This was not how I would be making her mine. Angels didn’t swoop down from heaven to be treated like something ordinary. I’d never been given a gift like the one Lailah was choosing to give me. Until now, I hadn’t really considered virginity much more than a drunken interlude one leaves behind in high school. That was how mine had come and gone. Megan had seriously dated someone through much of high school, and although I’d never wanted specifics, I knew they had been intimate.
Lailah’s life could pretty much be summed up within the walls of this hospital. Her illness—this defect she’d been born with had soaked up and stolen almost every minute of her existence. I’d be damned if I was going to let it take anything else.
Sliding my hands down her arms, I grabbed her hands and tugged them up around my neck. Warm, wet fingers grasped my shoulders as I found her waist and pulled her closer.
“I hope you don’t mind if I dance with you?” I whispered, loving the feel of her body against mine as I began to gently sway us back and forth under the cascade of water.
“Never,” she answered, placing her head on my shoulder.
I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, slow dancing under the false rain of the shower, while we pretended to be somewhere else.
“Ahem,” a stern male voice startled us from our dreamy waltz in the mist.
Lailah’s head jerked up from my shoulder as mine turned to find Dr. Marcus standing in the doorway. His eyes were trained on mine with a look that was anything but friendly.
“You two had better get cleaned up. Lailah, your mother is going to be here in a few minutes. She said she talked to someone with the insurance company, and she wanted to talk to you.”
And with that vague statement, he walked out of the bathroom.
I turned back around to find my carefree girl who had been dancing in the rain gone. What remained was fear, just pure fear.
“Lailah,” I coaxed, gently cupping her face as I tried to reach her.
I could see her retreating, fleeing into herself, where she felt safe, like a turtle framing itself into its shell.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay. Whatever happens, we are all here, no matter what.”
She looked up finally, her eyes connecting with mine, as my words soaked in.
“No matter what,” I repeated.
She nodded, and I pulled her into my arms, hating Dr. Marcus for his insensitive behavior. He, above anyone, should have known how a remark like that would affect her.
“Let’s get you warm,” I suggested, shutting off the water, and grabbing a towel off the rack. I wrapped it around her like a burrito. I stepped out of the shower, not caring about my own soaked clothes, and I began gently drying off her face and arms.
She suddenly looked down at me, and her eyes widened. “What are you going to wear?”
I gave a small half smile as I squeezed water out of her long blonde hair. “I have an extra pair of scrubs and a few change of clothes in my staff locker. I’ve been keeping clothes here ever since you got sick, and I started crashing and showering here.”
“You…showered here?” she asked, looking quickly to the shower, like she was suddenly picturing me in there.
“Yep, right there. Bet you wish you hadn’t been sleeping, huh? I changed with the door open, too,” I said with a grin.
Her mouth gaped, and I laughed, glad to see I’d managed to get her mind off the impending news of her transplant.
“I’m going to go to my locker and change. I’ll be right back. Five minutes tops,” I added. I grabbed a towel and tried to get rid of some of the excess water dripping off my wet clothes, and then I threw on my shoes.
That will have to do.
I brushed a quick kiss across her forehead, and then I was gone.
Now, I had to find Dr. Marcus.
It didn’t take long to find him.
As my shoes squeaked down the hall, I found him at the nurses’ counter. He was watching me with the same look of contempt I had for him.
“I think we need to talk, Marcus,” I said through gritted teeth.
“I think we do,” he answered back.
“Good, let’s go for a walk.”
I didn’t even pause to wait for an answer. As I reached the elevator and pressed the button with water dripping down the sides of my face, I heard him step beside me. My hands fisted at my sides, but I remained silent. There was no need to make a scene in front of coworkers. The elevator beeped, and we entered one at a time, waiting for the door to shut.
“You stepped way over the line,” I said.
“You’ve gone too far, Jude,” he said simultaneously.
“I’ve gone too far?” I sputtered. “You nearly wrecked her in there, Marcus. Where do you get off walking in there, talking to her like she’s just another patient? Do you know what that did to her? Just the mere mention of insurance scares the shit out of her. She freaked out that they aren’t going to approve the transplant.”
His gaze went cloudy and faraway. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think. I walked in there and saw…and I thought…and I just—”
“You were thinking like a father, not a doctor,” I said.
His eyes jerked up toward mine.
“Look, Marcus, I don’t know what history there is between you and Lailah’s mom, but I’m not dumb enough to think that it’s all medical. There’s more going on here, and it’s deeper than this hospital. You feel something for those two, and I’m not going to fault you for it.”
The elevator dinged, and we made our exit toward the entrance to the staff locker room. I found my locker, undid the lock, and pulled out an extra set of clothes. I couldn’t do anything about the shoes, but at least I wouldn’t have wet boxers anymore. I pivoted around to find Marcus turned away from me on a bench. His posture was hunched over, like he felt defeated.
“I’ve loved Molly Buchanan since I was in med school. She’s the only woman I’ve ever wanted.”
“Does she know this?” I asked, tugging off my shirt and replacing it with a clean, dry blue one.
“Yes, she knows. It wasn’t fair—how we made her choose. I was never going to win. Who would pick the safe, boring brother?”
My eyes widened as I finished dressing and then shut my locker. “You’re Lailah’s uncle?” I asked, putting all the pieces together.
His head bobbed in a nod. “Two brothers going after the same girl is so cliché. We were from the wrong side of the tracks, raised by foster parents. Brett and I had no one besides each other. I used our personal tragedies as a way to grow, become stronger. I excelled in school and applied for every scholarship I could get my hands on. My brother did the opposite. He had a reputation that was less than upstanding.
“We met Molly the same night at a bar. I was there with some of my college buddies, celebrating the end of a semester. Brett was probably dealing out by the back door. I met Molly first, and we had a moment and a dance, but he had a way with women, and he ended up winning her heart. Five weeks later, she was pregnant, and he was gone. Molly and I haven’t seen him since, and all the while, I’ve been trying to convince her that I’m not my brother.”
“And Lailah knows none of this?” I asked as we made our way back up to the cardiology wing.
“No. I’ve been by her side since the day she was born, and she has no idea who I am.”
“Why?”
“Molly was so angry for so easily falling so easily for my brother’s lies. She’d always prided herself on being methodical and making wise choices, and in five short weeks, she was wined, dined, and knocked up. I’d tried to warn her but by the time she started to listen, it was too late. After he left, she never wanted to speak about him again, so she didn’t. Because of that, my role was reduced to Dr. Marcus. I was allowed to be around but only in medical capacities. If it wasn’t for my occupation, I would have had no involvement in their lives at all.”
“A blessing and a curse,” I said as we stepped off the elevator.
“Yes, exactly. I’ve tried to convince Molly that I’m not him, that I would never hurt her, but he broke her, and I don’t know if she’ll ever trust another man again.”
We reached Lailah’s door, and I turned to Marcus before we entered. “Keep trying. Don’t give up, Marcus.”
“It looks good,” Ms. Buchanan said with a look of hope in her blue eyes.
“What does that mean?” Lailah asked, gripping my hand as two sets of eyes watched.
“It means,” she said, looking up at her daughter, “that I think things are finally going our way. I spoke with someone at the insurance company today to make sure they had everything they needed. Everything is in order with UCLA—they will do your surgery when it’s time and I double-checked they have everything they need. I didn’t want anything to go wrong with insurance.”
Lailah rolled her eyes, and I tried to keep my smirk from showing. Lailah had said how much of a control freak her mother was, and I had to agree. Seeing the woman in action was scary. She was like a hurricane in heels.
“You seriously called them?” Lailah said, her head shaking back in forth.
“Yes, I did. This isn’t something I want screwed up by some incompetent imbecile in a cubicle. I called and confirmed. I was told that everything was in and looked good,” she said.
“You’re taking the word of the incompetent imbecile?” Lailah asked, repeating her mother’s words back to her.
“No, of course not. I spoke with someone who actually reviews the cases.”
“Oh my God, Mother, you are too much.”
“I get things done,” she stated.
“I don’t even want to know how you accomplished that,” Marcus muttered. “But it’s good to hear. Hopefully, it will mean great news for us later on.”
Ms. Buchanan had to run off to a class, and Marcus had other patients to see. After a few short good-byes, it was just the two of us again.
Lailah stared out the window, deep in thought. “Do you ever think about what our lives would be like if it was approved? If I did get a transplant and we were actually able to be together outside of this room?”
“Yeah, I do.”
She looked over at me, her blue eyes still lost in her pondering. “What do you think about?”
“I think about taking you to the pier and finally dipping those pretty toes in the Pacific,” I said with a tiny smile. “I think about Ireland and that bed-and-breakfast and all the wicked things I promised to do to you.”
A quick blush crept up her cheeks. “But what if it never happens?” she asked.
“It will,” I said with conviction.
“How do you know? How can you be so sure?”
“Because I refuse to believe that it’s not possible. Somehow, someway, we will make it happen. I’m not giving up if you aren’t,” I said.
She didn’t look completely convinced, but she leaned forward. Resting her head against mine, her sign of surrender, she let me take her in my arms.
“What’s in the bag?” she asked after a long block of silence.
“Oh, I almost forgot about my little surprise.”
She lifted her head from my shoulder, and I quickly got up to retrieve the white paper bag from the floor. I joined her back on the bed and laughed when she eagerly looked inside.
“No peeking!” I exclaimed.
She pulled back, sitting up straighter and throwing her hands behind her back like she’d done nothing wrong.
“Now, I believe you told me about one thing on your list, and I might have given you a bit of a hard time about—”
“The prom?”
“No, not that one.” I suddenly had a fantastic idea.
“You’ve given me a hard time about several. So, why don’t you just show me?” she suggested with a teasing grin.
“Fine.” I reached into the bag and pulled out the small white box.
“You got me a cell phone!” she practically yelled.
It wasn’t the newest model, but it was the most I could afford. She could browse the web, install apps, and of course, text.
“I did.”
“So, now, I can finally text my other boyfriend!” she said, smiling.
“Cute, Lailah. Really cute,” I deadpanned.
I grabbed the box, placed it on the handy tray table next to her, and gave her a meaningful look as I leaned forward. I saw the flicker of awareness in her gaze seconds before I eased her back against the mattress. My hands slid down her arms, causing her breath to hitch. I weaved our fingers together and brought her hands high above her head.
“The only man you will ever call by that title is me,” I whispered. I touched my lips to her neck and then moved them up to the sensitive skin of her ear.
Releasing our joined hands, I let my fingers move down the small curves of her body until I found bare skin where her shirt had lifted. My lips joined my eager hands and I nipped and scattered kisses across her bare skin as the pads of my fingers teased at the waistband of her pants.
“The only man who will ever touch you like this will be me,” I said with strangled effort.
This game had started out as light and playful, and now, it was turning into something entirely different. Every part of my body was on fire, needing more of her. I’d pushed myself too far, given myself too much, and now, I was dying.
She moaned beneath me, squeezing her thighs together, as if the flames were too much for her to bear as well. Gripping the edge of her pants, I curled my fingers underneath, touching her hipbone, and I gently tugged before kissing the flesh I’d just revealed.
I knew I was playing with fire. This was exactly what I’d said I wouldn’t do—not here, not like this.
Fuck, I want to.
I’m going to hell.
“Please, Jude,” she whispered. “Just this. Show me what it’s like.”
Anyone could come in at any moment. We had no privacy, yet I was still contemplating it. I wanted to give her everything, including this.
Continuing my trail, I kissed a path as I slowly inched the fabric down her hips, exposing her beautiful naked skin. I looked up and saw her watching me with hooded eyes. There was no inhibition, just the faint pink flush of passion and anticipation. If I wasn’t already rock-hard in my jeans, I would have instantly popped wood from that look alone.
I ran my hands up her legs, over her hips, and in the juncture of her slim thighs, parting them until they fell open. My fingers glided over her glistening flesh for the first time, and she gasped. She was stunning, and I was completely captivated. I smoothed my finger over her clit, and she instantly moaned.
“Shh, angel. You’re going to get us in trouble.” I grinned.
She pursed her lips together, a sheepish grin spreading across her face.
“Tell me to stop,” I said, running my thumb over her tender skin again.
“No,” she breathed
“Tell me you want this.”
“I want this Jude. Please.”
I bent forward and took my first taste of her. I saw her hand fly to her mouth as she tried to quiet her moans.
I should have known an angel would taste like heaven. Parting her thighs wider, I worked my tongue—going in and out of her core, moving over her clit, licking and sucking her until I felt drunk.
For a split second before I’d made the decision to do this, I’d worried it might be too much, too soon for someone so new to the physical side of love, but seeing her spread out before me, I couldn’t resist. I’d had to show her a glimpse, and she’d blossomed under my touch.
She writhed and moved against me, moaning under her breath, as her free hand wove into my hair. We were so caught up in each other in that moment that I thought the building could have come crashing down around us, and we wouldn’t have noticed. Luckily, it didn’t.
Lailah’s mewling became more erratic, and she pulled her hand away from her mouth. “Jude, it’s…I can’t…too much,” she said in staccato sentences.
I looked up to make sure it wasn’t her heart, and no, it wasn’t. Her eyes were heated, and her face was flush. Never breaking eye contact, I moved to just her clit and flicked over and over relentlessly. Then, I watched her break apart for the first time in her life. Her body trembled and shook, and her awakening was stunning.
Now, how the hell am I supposed to survive the rest of her hospital imprisonment, knowing she can come apart like that?