DOCTOR’S SURPRISE TWINS

A VALENTINE’S DAY ROMANCE

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SOFIA T SUMMERS

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 CONTENTS

Other Books by Sofia T Summers

Description

Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
Christmas in the Cabin (Preview)
Connect with Sofie

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 Copyright © 2023 by Sofia T Summers
All rights reserved.

The following story contains mature themes, strong language and sexual situations. It is intended for
mature readers.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means,
including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except
for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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 OTHER BOOKS BY SOFIA T
SUMMERS

Forbidden Temptations Series (Age Gap Romances - this series)

Daddy’s Best Friend

My Best Friend’s Daddy

Daddy’s Business Partner

Doctor Daddy

Secret Baby with Daddy’s Best Friend

Knocked Up by Daddy’s Best Friend

Pretend Wife to Daddy’s Best Friend

SEAL Daddy

Fake Married to My Best Friend’s Daddy

Accidental Daddy

The Grump’s Girl Friday

 The Vegas Accident

My Beastly Boss

My Millionaire Marine

The Wedding Dare

The Summer Getaway

The Love Edit

The Husband Lottery

Christmas in the Cabin

A Very Naughty Christmas

Forbidden Fantasies (Reverse Harem Series)

My Irish Billionaires

Toy for the Teachers

Three Grumpy Bosses

Feasting on Her Curves

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 DESCRIPTION

Derek never learned he was becoming a father.

My guilt and his misconceptions made it so much harder,
And when he delivers my twins, our twins,
That one icy night seems to seal our fate forever.

I once drew hearts around his name.

We pushed the boundaries of our fine lines,
But he was my brother’s best friend—
Off-limits and out of reach.

Years later, the story hasn’t changed.

Derek is a OB-GYN at my new hospital,
As sexy and self-assured as ever,
But our stolen moments aren’t just a PR nightmare.

My heart isn’t the only one I need to protect,

And I refuse to be a pawn in a lovers’ game.
No matter what he says or does,
Life won’t wait for him to realize the truth.

How did our story end up like this?

Did I fool myself into hoping for a better ending,
Or will those tempting amber eyes finally see
That we are worth fighting for?
OceanofPDF.com
 PROLOGUE

Maggie

T HE PAIN WAS EXCRUCIATING . It felt like my body was attacking me from the
inside out. Thank God Gypsy was there to drive me to the hospital because an
ambulance in this town would cost a fortune, and I had already waited far too
long. As early as it was in the pregnancy, there was a risk of complications. I
knew that. But I was stubborn and had waited until my body was shutting
down instead of rushing to the hospital when the pain was less severe.
“Hold on, okay?” Gypsy whipped the car into the hospital drive, speeding
up to the emergency room entrance. She seemed in control but on high alert. I
didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t want a pregnant lady giving birth in the front
seat of my car either. As it stood, it was too late to stop labor, so the babies
were definitely coming.
“Just . . . help me . . . get out.” The contractions were horrible. I had to
breathe through them, but even then, I barely held it together. I didn’t know
how women did this. I was not a weak person, but this pain brought me
cowering to my knees, wishing my mom were still alive. And
simultaneously, I was cursing Derek Holt for the amazing way he’d fucked
me and made me an addict for his cock.
“Maggie, fuck . . . this is early.” Gypsy threw the car in park and hopped
out. She ran around the front of the car to my side and opened the door,
holding out a hand to help me. It did little good. I was a big girl as it was, but
with a stomach swollen with pregnancy, I felt like a giant pear, stuck in the
bucket seat.
“It’s not too early. Twins come early like this all the time.” I tried to wave
off her worry as I strained to get my right foot out the door. Just as my foot
hit the edge of the curb, another contraction hit me. I screamed, doubling
over and hugging my stomach. It felt like every cell in my body was on fire at
once. I couldn't even tell where the pain was coming from.
“Shit, I’ll be right back.”
Gypsy disappeared, leaving me cradling my womb and crying. I managed
to get my other foot out the door and my body turned by the time she
returned. Two male nurses had joined her with a wheelchair. Neither one of
them looked experienced with this sort of thing—young, maybe fresh out of
college—but I had no choice but to take their hands and let them help me out
of the car.
Hovering nervously around me, Gypsy barked orders like a true friend
would. The nurses seemed to take it in stride, staying out of her way and
talking calmly to me as the next contraction hit. At less than one minute
apart, I was really kicking myself that I hadn’t called Gypsy sooner. Her
ninety-minute drive from Yellow Springs to Evansville had allowed the labor
to advance further than I should have allowed. And I hadn’t even gotten
through to my OB yet.
“Who is your doctor?” The taller male nurse pushed the wheelchair
toward the sliding doors while the other told Gypsy to move her car and meet
us inside. I was just grateful to be at the hospital where I would receive the
care I needed.
“Dr. Rhee, but I didn’t get through to him yet.” I puffed out short breaths,
trying to stay relaxed. The nurse took me right past the check-in desk to an
exam room and locked the wheels.
“Dr. Rhee is out today, but we have a great on-call doctor, okay? You’ll
like him a lot. For now, we need to get a monitor on you and check your
progress. It’s twins?” He helped me out of the chair and turned to sort
through a cupboard behind him, tossing a gown, some draped towels, and a
bed pad onto the exam table.
“Yes, twins. Fuck—" I used the bed as support when the pain gripped me
again. I couldn't help the tears that fell or the scream I let out. The nurse
helped me out of my clothing and into the gown, and I barely made it onto
the table before Gypsy staggered in, drenched.
“It’s raining.” She gritted her teeth and shivered, standing at my side and
holding my hand.
“I’m okay now. You go back to my place and clean up. I’ll have them call
you if I need anything. Maybe you can visit tomorrow.” I took a deep breath,
glad to be between contractions. Moving a bit seemed to ease their intensity
and made me want to keep moving to keep the pains at bay.
“Are you sure?” She looked hesitant, so I reassured her.
“Of course. I’ve got this now.” Deep down, I didn’t want to be alone, but
Gypsy wasn’t a close enough friend for me to feel comfortable with her being
in the delivery room with me. I just wasn't sure how to say that without being
offensive. She’d been so great to me.
“Okay, well I’ll be here if you need me.”
She patted my hand and walked out, and as she left, two more nurses
walked in. They checked my dilation and strapped two baby heart monitors to
me. The pains started coming more intensely again, and I begged for an
epidural, but when they couldn’t find the second heartbeat, the nurses got
nervous.
“We need to call the doctor and see what he will want to do.” A spindly
blonde with a turned-up nose held a phone receiver to her ear and talked in
hushed tones. Before I could protest, they were transferring me to a gurney.
Fear raced through my mind, and I instantly wanted Gypsy back. I
wanted my mom, or dad, or even Curt. I felt out of control and I hated it. I
was a strong woman, so this should not be scaring me, but an emergency C-
section had not been part of the plan. I was supposed to have a natural birth
and be able to see my twins and hold them immediately.
“Don’t worry, Ms. Brock,” the spindly nurse said, “we use a spinal block
to numb you from the chest down, so you’ll be awake and able to interact
with us.” She held her hand out when I whimpered in protest. “It’s not scary.
It’s just some pressure you feel, and you’ll get to see your babies right away.
The doctor has performed this a million times, okay? It’s routine. Not scary.”
Her words comforted me a little, though I was still concerned as to why
they couldn’t hear baby B’s heartbeat on the monitor. I started to get down on
myself again for waiting so long to come in. I stared up at the ceiling as they
wheeled the bed toward an operating room. It was all happening so quickly. It
felt surreal. I had lost all control of the situation and had to trust some total
stranger I’d never met to keep me and my babies safe.
I doubled over in another strong contraction and screamed out my pain as
the bed came to a stop in a large, brightly lit room. They positioned me on the
side of the bed, back arched so the anesthesiologist could numb me. As they
worked, I heard voices talking in hushed tones, and I thought I recognized
one of them, but I decided it was the pain talking.
Until I lay down and the face of Derek Holt peered down at me.
I thought I’d pass out from the shock. I couldn’t do anything. My body
felt like a log. My chest was heavy, whether from the anesthesia or the
surprise of seeing my babies’ father here, scrubbed up and ready to do
surgery. He looked intense, serious, but not angry—just focused.
“Hello, Maggie. ” His face vanished beneath a mask one of the nurses
tied on him, and he continued, “I hear you’re having twins.” I heard the
emotion in his voice and tried to keep a straight face. “Baby B is missing,
huh? Well, let’s do a little search and rescue, shall we?”
His casual nature put me at ease. I knew Derek was a fantastic doctor. I
should. I worked with him and saw him in his element. Our history made me
ill at ease about his learning my secret, but I was less scared about how things
would turn out.
All I could do was lie there and listen to them talking and the sound of
my heart monitor beeping. They hung a drape sheet between me and their
work, so I was hidden from the blood and mess of it all, but the nurse was
right. It wasn’t scary, just a lot of pressure and talking. And before long, I
heard one, then two babies crying.
I cried too.
A nurse showed me one baby, then the other. Fraternal twins, one boy
and one girl—just like the sonogram showed. They were perfect, and they
had my father’s tiny button nose and amber eyes. I was in love. I watched as
they wiped the babies off and put them in their tiny beds complete with heat
lamps.
“Ms. Brock, we have to take the babies to the nursery to check their blood
sugar and do a few metabolism tests. All routine stuff. Doc will sew you up,
and Amber and Todd will wheel you back to your room. Your little guys will
meet you there, okay?” Spindly nurse had a kind voice, and I felt fatigue
setting in, so I nodded and smiled.
They wheeled the bassinets out as I let my eyes blink shut. I was almost
dozing off when I heard him ask the dreaded question. I didn’t realize he was
already done sewing me up. When I peeled my tired eyes open, he was seated
next to me, hair net removed, face mask pulled down.
“When did this happen?”
 Derek’s eyes pleaded with me not to lie to him, the same eyes that stared
into mine time and again as he fucked me into oblivion. My heart fluttered. I
still loved him. What I wouldn’t do to tell him these babies were his, that I
wanted him to take me home and hold me until I felt whole again. To feel
that passionate connection we had.
But I couldn’t ruin his career—or his friendship with my brother.
I mustered all of my energy and courage. “He’s not in the picture,
Derek.”
I wanted to feel his hand graze the side of my cheek, push my hair out of
my face. I wanted his lips to press against my forehead and hear him say my
name the way only I could make him. My heart ached for the lie on my lips.
“The timing . . . I don’t see how . . .”
“I said he’s not in the picture, okay?” A whimper escaped me, and Derek
grimaced. I was so tired, and suddenly shivering too.
“Todd!” Derek called out, and the door opened. “Thanks for giving us
privacy. We need some warm blankets for Maggie now, and she would like
to rest a bit. She is exhausted.”
Derek stood and peered down at me. I could see the pain and questions in
his eyes, but his words remained unspoken. For that, I was grateful.
But later, when I was holding baby A—still unnamed—I noticed Derek
staring at me through the window of my recovery room. His intense stare told
me he wouldn’t give up easily. I thought I’d bought myself the time and
space I needed by moving to Evansville five months ago. Apparently, I was
wrong. I had no idea he would end up in the same town as me, nor why he
was there.
I had to pull my eyes away from him and ask the nurse to shut the blind
so I could try nursing the baby. Derek didn’t deserve to see that part of me.
Not anymore.

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 CHAPTER ONE

Derek – One Year Earlier

I HAD STARED at those numbers countless times. Mom’s death almost four
years ago had left me with a large inheritance—in the millions. Dad got his
share, and my brother, Peter, got his too—though that was blown in less than
eighteen months. I just had no clue what to do with mine. I wasn’t the sort of
guy to flaunt my money. I wanted it to go to a worthy cause, not just make
my life cushier.
Besides, having my own practice and being in line for the director of
obstetrics position, I had a pretty great lifestyle. Even before Mom’s untimely
death from thyroid disease which caused complications with her heart. At
times, Peter would beg me for money back then, back before I knew better.
Just thinking of Mom saddened me. My father was a pastor of a huge
church, one I had distanced myself from as soon as I left for college in
California. The church taught that God’s provision would supply everything
needed and that traditional medicine was a crutch for the weak in faith. Mom
had refused to listen to me about treatment, and when she passed away, it was
“God’s will to have another angel in His choir.”
That sentiment had destroyed my relationship with my father. And it had
nearly destroyed my faith in humanity.
The computer screen stared back at me, infuriating me. It was the point to
which I always arrived—indecision over how to use the funds that stirred
grief-fueled anger. With a few clicks, I silenced the offending voice, but the
damage was done. I should know better than to even open that account ledger
and remind myself of the pain.
Barbra Forest, my HR lady and one fantastic baker of brownies, strolled
past my office. It brightened my attitude a bit, and I popped out of my chair
and dashed to my office door to catch her. When the door opened, she
glanced over her shoulder with a smile.
“Doc, how’s it going today? Did you get a brownie? I made them with
walnuts just the way you like them.” Barbra had a way of using baked goods
to change the atmosphere of our office.
“I did, and it was delicious.” I strolled toward her office and peeked
through the door to see someone seated in the chair opposite her desk. It was
a woman with dark hair, her back to me. She wore a dark teal sweater, her
hair swept to the side. The way she sat with near-perfect posture reminded me
of someone I knew, but I couldn't put my finger on whom. I lingered there for
a moment, trying to place the figure in my memory bank, but it was useless.
Barbra pulled the door shut and stepped away from it, folding open a file
she held in her hands. “I’ve done seven interviews this week for our
nutritionist position. There are a few promising candidates here.” She handed
me the file, and I perused it, not recognizing any names. “My choice would
be number two there—Steph Williams. She has experience and all the proper
certifications. She’s also a fitness guru, teaches classes at the YMCA, so she
is a great role model for our moms.”
I flipped through her resume, and I had to admit she did stand out as a
very strong candidate. But more than having all the right credentials or
experience, what this office needed was a great fit personality-wise. We had
an amazing team assembled, and I didn’t want to throw a kink into our work
atmosphere.
“What’s she like?” I eyed Barbra. She was a great judge of character, and
she knew how I felt about the inner-office relationships. I didn’t want catty
women who caused drama. Having a strong team meant having a strong
practice. And so far, we’d been pretty lucky with building the perfect team. If
only women were more like men and just punched it out when they had
differences.
Barbra shrugged. “She could cause issues, but I’m not saying she would.
She did give off that ‘drama queen’ vibe during the interview. She asked if it
was always this cold in the office and then proceeded to put a sweater on. But
she was by far my favorite of the group there. I have one more in my office
now.”
Nodding, I handed her the files back. I trusted her opinion. “All right, let
me know how this one goes. If she’s a good fit, then we can move on it. You
don’t need my approval. Just let me know who it is. And be prepared to bake
extra brownies if you don’t find a winner.”
With a wink, she slipped into her office and shut the door. I watched
through the window as she settled into her chair, all smiles for the
interviewee. The aroma of brownies still hung in the air, so I made my way to
the breakroom to snatch up another before they were gone. I could already
taste the sweetness on my tongue when I walked in and saw Gypsy—CNP
working on her doctorate—poised to snatch the last one.
“Hey!” I chided playfully. “That’s mine.” I reached for the pan and
snickered.
“Yes, sir.” She backed away, gesturing at the pan. “I’ve had two already,
so have at it.”
Gypsy had joined the practice when I first started. Back then, she was
only an RN, but she’d continued her schooling to attain the higher
certification. I was so proud of her continuing on with her doctorate that I’d
paid part of her tuition to ensure she went to the best school. Unfortunately,
she was set to begin her residency soon with a GP across town, which would
cut her hours with us to almost nothing. But she was going places.
“Thanks, Gypsy. Hey, do you know anything about Steph Williams?
She’s a CNS who’s worked for Mercy General, and she applied here. I think
integrated nutrition or something?” Using the small mini spatula left in the
pan, I scooped out the final brownie, a corner piece—extra chewy. My
favorite.
Gypsy’s eyes widened and she turned her nose up. “Yeah, I know her.
Went to a few biology classes with her. She’s a real . . . piece of work.”
As soon as she said it, I knew she was not a good fit. I didn’t have to hear
the drama Gypsy spelled out about how the woman started gossiping and
stirred the pot repeatedly. I wasn’t one to judge, but just based on the blonde
ponytail and active wear in her picture in the file, I figured she was that way.
“So, yeah, don’t hire her.” Gypsy shimmied past me and popped her
quarters into the soda machine, selecting a cola and collecting it from the tray
below. “You’ll regret it.”
“Thanks. I owe you one.” I raised my brownie in the air as if to “toast”
her advice and headed back toward my office. My break was nearly over, and
I had rounds to do at the hospital to check on a few moms who had delivered
recently.
As I passed Barbra’s office, I heard laughter, so I stopped to listen. The
woman whose name I didn't know had an amazing laugh. It made me smile,
so I remained there, eavesdropping.
“So, tell me a little about yourself. Your hobbies, your family life. Maybe
something you absolutely hate.” Barbra had a way of getting to the bare
bones of what a person was like without making them feel like they were
being interrogated. I loved that about her.
“I grew up in a small home here in town. I went to college locally
because my dad is alone. My mom died when I was a kid. It hit me kind of
hard. She had complications due to diabetes, which made me be really
conscious about my health and what I’m eating. And that’s why I got into
nutrition.”
The woman fluffed her dark brown hair, the waves cascading across her
shoulders. I could see her perfectly manicured nails—a bonus. She was well
put together and cared about hygiene. I was amazed at how many applicants
came through the door having not even showered.
“And I am not an animal person, so you’ll find me with tons of plants
around the house to care for rather than fur babies.” This made Barbra frown.
She was totally a dog lover. But that didn't disqualify this applicant. “I love
the beach, and I love reading steamy books. I am a total fanatic about great
Italian food, and I love a good chocolate dessert. Umm, the thing I dislike
most would probably be a snooty person who complains a lot. It's better to
keep your opinions to yourself, I think.”
I liked that a lot. Barbra must have too. She was eagerly taking notes.
“Okay, tell me about a time you failed as a person and how you handled
it.” Barbra’s pen was poised to take more notes.
“Hmm . . . okay. When I was 14, I applied for my first job at a local
comic book store. I was totally into comics and trading cards, and the store
specialized in the trading card game Pokémon. So imagine my surprise when
they asked me if I’d ever stolen something before. I had to admit that I had.
“Mom was really sick and couldn’t afford to buy me cards to trade, and I
had this really torn up card. So when a kid at school wanted me to trade him,
I swapped my torn card for his good one. It was the nicest one I’d ever had,
and I loved it, but I felt so guilty I ended up giving it back because I felt bad
for taking it. I felt like in that interview, I had to be honest, so I told my story.
I didn’t get the job.”
I grinned and walked away from the office door. An honest soul who
hated busybody complainers. I could get along with this woman. As long as
her skills and certifications checked out, my vote was on her—not Steph
Williams.
Enjoying the rest of my brownie, I sat down at my desk and got absorbed
in a few recordings I needed to transcribe for my records. I didn’t even know
anything was happening in the office until Barbra knocked on my open door.
My head popped up and I caught her smile.
“I got her. Magnolia Brock. You’re going to love this one, Doc. She is
perfect in every way. And she loves chocolate desserts, so more reason for
me to bake!” Barbra seemed a little too excited about that, but her happiness
was contagious, especially when the name clicked. Like a nice, warm blanket
on a winter day, the nostalgia washed over me.
“Maggie?” My mind went to my teenage years, stolen kisses beneath the
moon, a rendezvous behind her father’s smokehouse. Her brother—my best
friend—beating the shit out of me for “macking” on his sister.
“Yeah, how did you know?” She looked confused.
“Maggie and I go way back. I never saw her face so I didn’t recognize
her. Wow. Small world,” I mused. I kept in regular contact with her brother,
Curt, but I hadn’t spoken to Maggie in years. It would be great to catch up.
“Thanks, Barb. Have a great afternoon, okay? Let me know when the
paperwork is set and she’s in for her first day. I’ll bring coffee for everyone.”
“Sure thing, Doc. I’m heading home now. Don’t forget to check on Mrs.
Albers.”
Barbra left me to my thoughts, but they weren’t the type of thoughts a
boss should be having about his employee. All I could think about was the
taste of her cherry lip balm and the way she made my cock harden. God, I’d
had an amazing time with Maggie Brock. I just hoped that wouldn’t come
back to bite me now that we were grown.

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 C H A P T E R T WO

Maggie

T HE BLARING red lights from more than a dozen cars stopped in front of me
on the way to work had me honking my horn and talking to myself. I couldn’t
see what the holdup was, but in Yellow Springs it couldn’t have been
something major. The worst traffic I’d ever seen in the town was when a
produce truck turned on its side and the watermelons it carried smashed on
the pavement or rolled away. It took almost eight hours to clean up that mess.
“Come on!” I honked my horn again, glancing at the clock. I had three
minutes to make it to my first shift at Women’s Wellness, the clinic run by
none other than Derek Holt—childhood crush and my brother’s high-school
best friend. I hadn’t seen him when I was in the office for my interview, but
the onboarding paperwork I’d had to sign via email had his name all over it
as the founder of the practice.
It made me more than a little giddy to think we’d be reconnecting after all
these years. Part of me held a lot of reservations due to the way Curt, my
brother, had reacted to finding us making out the last time Derek came over
before leaving for college. But I was an adult now, and that was water under
the bridge. Or it should be. I had no way of knowing whether Derek had
gotten married or if he was seeing someone, so I tried not to get too excited.
My return to Yellow Springs, and my subsequent job search, had led me
right to his doorstep. So if fate had set this up, then even if for no other
reason than to be my boss and maybe a good friend, I was embracing what
fate had in store for me. If only the goddamn traffic would ease up so I could
be on time.
I laid on my horn again and started to see some movement. The cars
rolled forward slowly, three lanes merging down into one lane. It was as if
everyone and their brother had to go the same direction at that exact moment.
It was agonizing.
The closer I got to the corner of Main and Court streets, I saw the
problem more clearly. An elderly woman had gotten a flat tire, and a group of
teenagers—idiotically—had stopped their car to help, leaving it parked in one
of the open lanes. The third lane had traffic cones set up because the city was
doing work on the curb.
I rolled my eyes. Of all the things, in such a small town, this would be
touted as heroic, not the nuisance it actually was. I couldn't help but feel sort
of ashamed of myself for being so irritated by it, because knowing the state of
the world, seeing a group of teens stop to help an elderly woman was
priceless. It had just interfered with my day. I wasn’t Catholic, but maybe I’d
stop by for confession later, just to ease my guilty conscience.
Glancing down at the clock, I noticed it was already seven minutes past
the hour, which meant I was late. So, rather than speeding and risking a ticket
or an accident, I took my time. Once the bottleneck was cleared, it was
smooth sailing to the office. I found a parking spot near the back of the lot
that was still empty and reminded myself to make sure I arrived early
tomorrow so I wouldn’t have to walk so far to get to the front door.
Why did I live in a place where the air in winter got so cold it hurt my
face when I went outdoors in early spring?
There was a stiff breeze, so I tucked my long, dark hair into the neck of
my coat and buttoned up all the way. My satchel held my laptop, a few
notebooks, my selection of brightly colored pens, my cell, wallet, and even
my charging cord—just in case. After I double-checked that I had pulled the
keys from the ignition, I climbed out of my car and almost slipped on a sheet
of ice.
Bracing myself on my car’s door handle, I regained my balance and
locked up the car, then headed toward the hospital. Breaths came as
crystalized puffs of air from my mouth as I carefully slid across the ice. Once
on clear pavement, I took hurried steps. I was certain I was making an awful
impression on the office staff. Late my first day was not the mark I wanted to
leave on them.
 An older gentleman opened the door for me and offered me a sanitizing
wipe as I passed by. I thanked him and took it from him, my fingers so cold I
couldn’t tell whether they were frozen or not. I wasn’t a germaphobe, but I
wiped my fingers down and threw the wipe out as I passed the trash bin
anyway. It never hurt to take a few extra precautions during cold and flu
season.
By the time I made it to the wellness center, I was more than fifteen
minutes late. I struggled in the door to a full waiting room. Women of all
ages sat around, waiting for their scheduled appointments. I had no way of
knowing yet how many of them were there for me or the others there. Based
on what Barbra had said, there was a certified nurse practitioner—Gypsy
something—Doctor Holt, and a midwife, Sofia Grace. Add to that three
nurses and two administrators, and this was a very full office, Derek being
the only testosterone in the mix.
“Oh, Magnolia!” Barbra’s happy squeal caught my attention. She waved
at me through the glass reception window and gestured toward the door.
“Come on back.” A few of the patients looked up at me, eyeing me like fresh
meat, but I pushed away the nerves. This wasn’t my first rodeo. It was just
my first day at a new job.
Back in Portsmouth where I had interned following my graduation, I had
seen plenty of patients of all sorts, not just women. It would all come back to
me easily as soon as I settled in.
I had almost forgotten about the nerves of seeing Derek again after all this
time until I heard his baritone vibrations float my way. I didn’t know where
he was, but I knew it was him. I’d remember his laugh anywhere. But I
pushed away the nervous flutter of emotion that stirred my stomach and
followed Barbra down the hallway to the very last door.
“Here is your office.” She walked in and gestured around. It was pretty
bare bones. A large, boring desk sat with an end shoved against one wall,
chairs on either side. A giant old-school computer monitor perched on the
desk. I’d have to get rid of that. And cupboards lined the back wall. It
smelled like coffee and popcorn, and I had a sneaking suspicion that it had
been the breakroom at one point in its history.
“Thanks, Barbra.” I dropped my satchel onto the desktop and spun around
to take in her bright smile. She was a very proper woman, age lines forming
around her eyes but hidden by a thin layer of makeup. She wore a green
sweater buttoned up the front with an ascot tied around her neck, probably
more for warmth than style. She reminded me of my Aunt Becky. It wasn’t
an unpleasant reminder, but one that then nudged the old wound of grief over
not having a mother as a teen.
“I made chocolate cupcakes to welcome you to the office. We can have
some at lunch. Gypsy will be by with some client files for you later on, so
you can just get settled in today. Your first appointment isn’t until the top of
the hour, so don’t worry about being late.”
I grimaced. “Is it horrible? It was traffic, believe it or not. I’m sure you’ll
hear about it on the news later.”
She waved her hand at me. “No big deal. It’s a family-type atmosphere
here. I’m sure Doc will let you off easy. I think he said he knows you?”
Barbra leaned in as if there were some juicy gossip.
“Yeah, Derek was my brother’s best friend when we were younger.” My
heart hammered in my chest with the unspoken confession that I was head-
over-heels in love with him back then too.
“Well, good. We are just a big family here, and I’m sure you’ll see that
soon. Settle in, and let me know if you need anything.” She tapped on the
door jamb and smiled at me with a mischievous glint in her eye.
I almost asked her if Derek would stop by to welcome me too but felt that
might let her in on my little secret, that my panties were already wet just
thinking of what he might look like all grown up. Barbra left my office, and I
shed my coat, looking around for a coat tree before deciding to drape it over a
patient chair while I unpacked. It was immediately chilly, so I left my scarf
on and decided I’d have to bring my assortment of fashionable sweaters up to
par.
Once I had my laptop booted up and my satchel totally unpacked, I
reached for my cup of coffee and realized almost immediately that I’d left it
in the car. And it was likely too cold to drink by now. April was chilly in
New York State, and I was not going back into that frigid temperature just for
the caffeine.
I sank into my chair, a bit sullen for forgetting my coffee, and looked
around my office. I’d need some new drapes and a few throw pillows for the
chairs. Some art for the wall, and maybe a few tchotchkes for my desk would
be nice. I was knee-deep in planning my décor when I got the shock of my
life.
Derek peeked his head into my office, cup of coffee in hand, and grinned
at me. My jaw dropped. I couldn't help it. His well-groomed beard and dark,
wavy hair had me creaming my panties already. My body clenched, an ache
growing deep in my groin as I swallowed the instant lump in my throat.
“Derek . . . ” Yes, that’s his name, Maggie. Why did you say it like that?
Was I completely stupid?
“Mags, my God, it’s been years. You look fantastic.” He strutted in,
setting the coffee on the corner of my desk, and I rose to offer him an
awkward handshake. I’d have much rather given him a hug, but I wasn’t sure
hugs were office appropriate. And his eyes, the way they mapped my body
like he wanted to remember every curve . . . fuck. He was pushing buttons.
“Thanks, Derek.” I wasn’t sure what to say. I was one hundred percent
confident in my appearance, but given my full figure, I knew most guys of
his stature—and let’s face it, his good looks—wouldn’t give me a second
glance. Derek had never been like that. Not even in my high school days. He
was half the reason I was so confident to this day. He’d told me once that my
curves just meant more of me to love and that any man who couldn't respect a
sturdy woman didn’t understand what love was.
“God, when Barb told me it was you, our new nutritionist, man, I about
flipped. You’re back in town?”
He ran a hand through his hair, and I picked up the coffee he brought me.
The way he watched me bring it to my lips made me want to draw him in and
do something seductive, which is why when I nearly choked on the blackness
of it, I felt mortified. Derek chuckled. I sputtered out my laugh as coffee
ejected out of my throat and up into my nose. I was thankful it stayed in my
sinuses and did not drain out.
“Too hot?”
I held my hand up and shook my head. “I like cream and sugar.” Setting it
down on the desk, I shrugged. “It’s okay. I’ll just add some. Where is the
breakroom?”
“Down the hall. You’ll see it. Can’t miss the soda machine.” He sipped
his own coffee. “And I’ll remember that for tomorrow. Hey, the gang will
have lunch together at the bistro across from the visitors’ desk near the
entrance. Want to join us?”
“Uh, sure.” I had to stop from throwing myself at him. Fuck yes, I wanted
to join them. If for no other reason than to ask if he was dating. His ring
finger was naked. And that was a very good sign.
“Perfect, I’ll let you settle in. I have a patient.” He was gone before my
mind could compute how fucking hot he was, all grown up and manly. Shit,
if I could touch myself right now, I would, but duty called. Time to be a
professional.

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 CHAPTER THREE

Derek

T HE BISTRO NESTLED inside the hospital was quieter than normal today. I
heard the head of oncology was hosting a luncheon to raise money for some
new research he was doing, which was likely why most of my staff opted not
to eat with me today. And it was likely why the small restaurant was nearly
empty.
Maggie sat to my right, enjoying her soup, and Tammy, our receptionist,
sat across the table eating a nice corn beef brisket in rye bread. My choice of
a chef’s salad didn’t hold a candle to the delicious scents wafting my way
from their meals, but I like to eat light at lunchtime. Maggie razzed me a little
for eating so many of Barbra’s delectable baked goods.
“Trying to watch your figure now that you’ve gained a few pounds from
all the brownies?” The glimmer in her eyes was just as gorgeous as it was all
those years ago. Only now, she was off limits for an entirely different reason.
My cock didn’t think so. I continuously had to tell myself not to think of her
in a sexual way.
When we were younger, it had been the vigilant eyes of her brother, Curt,
who had ensured we remained professional. But now it was the precedent I’d
set for the practice, and even for myself personally. Inner-office dating was
strictly against my moral code. So why did my dick think it could break the
rules just because she was here?
“Barb’s baked goods are so tempting, I have to make sure I cut out
calories elsewhere so I can enjoy the treats she brings in.”
“Ah, yes.” Maggie grinned and sipped her lemonade. “Gotta keep that
body rockin’ if you want to keep the ladies stalkin’.” She winked at me, and
Tammy laughed.
“I gotta get back to answering phones and let Gypsy take her lunch now.”
Tammy stood and gathered her trash and belongings. “See you back in the
office.”
The way Tammy dashed away from us, I wasn’t sure if she was
uncomfortable by Maggie’s comment or if she really did just want to get back
to doing her job. Either way, the wink she shot at me had my cock tensing.
Was she flirting with me?
“So, how is it living back in Yellow Springs? You adjusting to the small-
town life again?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation in a safe direction
now that we were alone.
Maggie shrugged as she swallowed a bite of her food. “I never really
figured out how to do larger-city life, anyway. Small-town is my vibe.
Always has been.” Maggie had gone to New York University in the Big
Apple, which wasn’t that different from UCSF, where I attended. Both larger
cities, both a wakeup call to a small-town teen who just wants to escape the
burden of life.
“I understand. It’s one of the reasons I moved home from San Fran after
graduation. I’m more of an owns-horses, chops-wood type of guy.”
“I know, and you have the biceps to prove it. Wowzah.” Maggie
snickered and took a bite of soup. I couldn’t help but feel flattered by the
comment, and I almost gave in and made a comment of my own. That top she
was wearing, low-cut enough to get a terrific view of her tits every time she
leaned in to take a bite of food, drove me wild.
So I changed the subject again to something less provocative. Or so I
thought. “Yeah, so I moved home and bought some land, like fifteen acres. I
built a ranch log cabin. I own six horses, but one of my mares is going to foal
this spring. I’m a country boy at heart, but this doctor gig is my hustle.” I
took a bite of my salad, eyeing her soup enviously. Each bite she brought to
her mouth was a double whammy. I wanted to kiss her, suck one of her
plump lips into my mouth and bite it. I also wanted something hot to eat on
this cold day—that craving could also be sated by her body.
I almost smacked myself for thinking it, but memories of her had been
bombarding me for the past few days. Being in proximity to her brought back
every bit of desire I’d had for her back then.
“Well, for a country boy, you sure put on the ‘hot doctor’ act pretty well.
I’m surprised you’re not taken—or are you?” There was a hint of something
there in her gaze. She was searching me. There was no way I was misreading
this. “You and Sofia, is that a thing?”
Sofia was my partner. She was a bit older than me and had her career well
under way when I moved back home. As a certified nurse midwife, the state
law required her to report to a doctor, but the doctor who had helped her get a
start was retiring. So, she convinced him to sell his practice to me, and bada-
bing, bada-bam, I was in. That was it and nothing more.
I chuckled. “No, Sofia is married. She has two kids, one of whom I
delivered. Her husband is an athletic trainer for the New York Jets, but he
was just offered a position with the Broncos. Sofia will be moving her
practice to Colorado in a few weeks, and it will be just me until I find
someone to take over for her.”
Maggie’s face seemed to grow even brighter with joy. I wasn’t sure how
that was even possible. She was radiant even when she was serious and just
focusing on work. Her smile lit up the entire room—and there I was thinking
about how gorgeous she was instead of keeping my thoughts professional.
Based on her line of questioning, I figured she was doing the same thing with
me—wondering if there was any heat left between us.
Well, I couldn’t tell her, but there was plenty of heat. So much heat that I
didn’t dare stand up right now.
“Ah, that’s too bad.” She feigned sadness over Sofia’s marital status. Or
maybe it was that she was moving away. Whatever the case, I was growing
increasingly aroused and uncomfortable with my own body’s reaction to her
flirtatious comments. “I like Sofia.”
“Yeah, she’s a great lady. Fantastic at what she does.” The salad just
wasn’t doing it for me anymore, so I replaced the lid and pushed it away.
“If I remember correctly, you’re pretty fantastic at a few things too.”
There was no mistaking that look in her eye as she peered up at me
through thick lashes. Her lips hugged her straw, leaving lipstick on the cheap
plastic, and all I could think was that I’d like that lipstick around the base of
my cock. My chest tightened as I realized I was not mistaken. She really was
flirting with me. And fuck, did I want to flirt back.
The way my body pulsed with lust, my dick straining against the zipper
on my slacks . . . if I didn’t put an end to this immediately, something very
complicated would happen.
“Maggie, I need you to understand that I’ve made a very strict policy in
the office about dating.”
She batted her eyelashes and sipped her lemonade, teasing my dick to a
frenzy. I watched her neck muscles contract as she swallowed, and all I could
picture was how they’d looked slightly bulging out as my cock pushed past
her tonsils. Fuck, I was so in trouble.
“I don’t want inner-office relationships to muddy the atmosphere we have
with the crew. And I find them highly unprofessional.” I stopped there, but if
I let my inner beast out to talk, he would have added, “But they’re so
irresistible when the woman is as fucking sexy as you, so let’s go back and
lock ourselves in my office and fuck like horny teenagers.”
“Right, of course.” Maggie set her empty cup to the side and puckered her
lips, smoothing her lipstick out. “You’re the boss, and I’m the employee. I
don’t have a problem with that, Derek.”
I had prepared myself for water works or desperation. Even a modest
rebuttal would have convinced my hormones to calm down, but this?
Maggie’s beautiful smile pushed every button. She tossed her hair and
pointed at my half-eaten salad. “You want me to toss that for you?”
As she stood, I couldn’t help but drink in every curve on her body. And
when she leaned over the table right in front of me and a hint of her lacy bra
peeked out, I thought I’d shoot my load right there. What I wouldn’t give to
slide between those tits and—God, what was I thinking?
“Sure . . . ” I didn’t mean for that to come out as stunted as it had, but I
needed to distance myself from her before this problem got any worse.
“Alright, Boss. I’ll see you back in the office.” Maggie picked up all the
trash and slung her satchel over her shoulder. My eyes were drawn to her
perfect round ass as she walked away.
My dick screamed, “Spread her and bed her,” but my better judgment
forced me to stare down at my folded hands until she was out of sight.
Magnolia Brock was off limits. She always had been. Curt would kill me, and
if his father hadn’t interrupted the ass-kicking he gave me at the age of
twenty for even thinking of touching his “sixteen-year-old, baby sister,” he
may very well have.
It was difficult enough battling the torrent of hot memories. The time we
snuck away during the football game to make out beneath the bleachers. Or
the time we hid in the music room after school, pretending to take an interest
in band—only to be caught by Mr. Jones just as my pants were unbuttoned.
We never got to seal the deal, though. Curt had seen to it. And after coming
home with two black eyes and a cracked rib, my father forbade me to see her.
That visit back home had challenged me, and after moving back to San
Francisco, I dropped out of college. Maggie hadn’t been the only reason I’d
spent my days and nights drinking and partying, but I was certain she was
part of it. I clicked with her, and it wasn’t just sex, either. It was a closeness
we’d shared since she was twelve and her mom died. I had never been able to
find it again.
Until Leslie.
I was twenty-two. Leslie was a first-year student, and man, did I do
everything in my power to impress her and put on a show. She just never
bought into it. She toyed with my emotions, and eventually, when I tried to
make my move, she threatened to tell everyone I raped her if I didn’t just
back off.
Less than a year after that event, my drinking and partying spun out of
control and I’d almost killed myself and another woman when I totaled my
Firebird. Two weeks after being released from the hospital, I signed up for
more classes at UCSF and finished my degree five years later.
Getting lost in thought helped the swelling go down in my pants, but it
didn’t remove the aching feeling I had to taste that type of love again. I left
that bistro a little hungrier than I’d entered it. Magnolia Brock might be off
limits to me, but if anyone could make me change my policy about inner-
office dating, it would be her.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FOUR

Maggie

WE WOULD HAVE to agree to disagree.

Gypsy sat across from me at the breakroom table during our final break
for the day. She munched on a granola bar, and I cleaned up the crumbs when
they fell to the table. For a snarky woman, she did make good points, all of
which were at direct odds with what I wanted, of course. Derek’s policy
about inner-office dating was the bane of my existence, though I hadn’t for a
moment let on to anyone that I disliked it or why.
If something happened between him and me, it would be our secret. At
least until we were ready to call ourselves an item. And I knew he had to feel
something. Sure, we were never officially a thing back in high school, but
that was only because admitting it openly would have been like lighting a
match while pumping gas. Curt made himself clear that the “bro-code” had
deemed me off limits to any of his friends.
I was never sure if that “bro-code” was because he wanted to protect me
or if it was because he didn’t want his friends knowing our family secrets.
Either way, Curt had made sure back then that we didn’t date. Now it was
this ridiculous notion that a boss couldn’t have a relationship with an
employee and keep it professional at work. I was arguing with Gypsy on a
matter of principle and keeping my personal lust for my boss out of it.
“Yes, I see your point, but what about if the boss breaks up with the
employee and that causes drama?” Gypsy carefully constructed her
arguments based on logic, while my frenzied desire flew off the handle with
rebuttals.
“Ah, but think about how much more they’d have in common. They’d
spend all day together, building a stronger bond. And probably sneaking sex
in now and then just to be kinky.”
Gypsy chuckled. “You are really trying to prove a point, huh?”
I shrugged. “It’s not that I’m trying to prove a point. I just disagree that
the whole boss-employee relationship is a bad thing. What bad would come
of it?”
Another bite of her granola bar, and more crumbs on the table for me to
sweep up.
“Well, think of it this way.” She cocked her head, honing in on her target.
“If Doc A and Doc B are in a spat—dating concerns or whatnot—and Doc A
gets called into surgery but they’re distracted by inner-office problems, and
Doc B had to assist, but they’re not getting along. What happens to the
patient if one of them makes a mistake because of their animosity?”
She just had to go and make me eat my words, didn’t she? I kept the
smile on my face and snorted a laugh. “You got me. So maybe doctors
shouldn’t date their co-workers if they’re doing surgeries together.” But I was
not a doctor, and I didn’t aid Derek in surgery, and I wasn’t about to tell
Gypsy the “doctors” in question were me and him, anyway. Unfortunately,
her point hit home with her next comment.
“It’s like this, though. Derek has to report to a board of directors for this
hospital and also to the licensing board. If anything he does is seen as
inappropriate, he could lose his licensing or even his practice here at Mercy
General.”
She was hitting a little too close to home, so I deflected. “I wasn’t talking
about Derek. Are you kidding? He’s my brother’s best friend.” I laughed
nervously. “I was arguing on a matter of principle. But you’re right.” I
swallowed a lump. “I see why Derek wouldn’t want to lose his licensing or
job.”
Gypsy seemed to be convinced that I wasn’t referring to one thing in
particular, but merely the concept. “But yeah. I mean if this were a hardware
store, I’d definitely think the ‘inner-office’ thing was a sham.”
She stood and brushed all the crumbs off her shirt onto the floor, and I
rolled my eyes. All that work of cleaning up the table with each spattering of
crumbs, and she didn’t seem to notice I was a neat freak. She sauntered out of
the breakroom, leaving me to my thoughts.
The last thing I wanted was to jeopardize Derek’s position or job, but
fuck if I could keep my mind off him. When there was a lull between
patients, I’d hear his voice echoing down the hallway and wonder what made
him laugh or if he was having a good day. When he brought me coffee, as
had become his habit lately—he was making it perfect now—his cologne
tingled my nose. It felt like the entire room was charged with tension between
us every time we were alone together, and I knew he had to sense it too.
And after waking with a nearly wet dream, I had to say something or I
knew both of us would go crazy. That, or we would let the entire office know
how badly we wanted each other without even saying a word.
The rest of the day played out exactly like the first half, with my body
tied up in knots and craving the alchemy of Derek’s presence. One by one, I
heard the others leave until I knew I was alone with him in the office. I stayed
fixed at my computer despite my distraction until I feared he may leave and
lock me in by myself. And when I tiptoed down the hall and peeked in to see
him, he was transfixed, typing something into his computer. He didn’t look
up for two solid minutes.
“Oh, Maggie. I didn’t see you. Taking off?” His distracted glance lasted a
split second before he was absorbed in his work again. Of course I wasn’t
taking off. I didn’t have my coat or satchel, and I remained lingering there,
silent, until he looked back up. “Need something?”
And there it was. The perfect setup. I couldn’t have baited myself any
better.
“You.”
Slithering through the door, I pushed it shut behind me and leaned back
on it, both hands resting on the door handle. I watched his Adam’s apple bob
and his eyes blink, as if he were searching for an appropriate response. In the
three weeks we’d been working together, we’d had lunch together every day,
worked late together two nights a week, and had more deep conversations
and flirtatious, bordering on inappropriate, conversations than he would like
to admit. I knew he needed me too.
“Excuse me?” More eye blinking, more swallowing.
“Derek, let’s not play around at this anymore. I know you sense the
chemistry between us, and it’s only a matter of time before everyone in this
office hears the rumors of us as kids or sees the way you get flustered every
time I wear a low-cut shirt.” I plumped my breasts, which drew his eyes
downward. He licked his lips and pulled his eyes away from the plunging
neckline, planting them back on my face.
“Maggie . . . ” Derek stood, strolling around the end of his desk toward
me. If I wasn’t mistaken, there was a bulge in his pants right where I wanted
there to be. “I have a lot to get done this evening before I head home, and the
vet is coming to check on my mare.” He stood so close I could see the vein in
his neck pulsing, and he leaned into me, grabbing the doorknob as I moved
my hands to let him. He was inches from me. I could place my hands on him
and feel the firmness of his chest if I wanted, but I stepped aside, allowing
him to open the door.
“This chemistry isn’t going away, boss or no boss.” I moved back into the
doorway and leaned on the doorjamb, and he stood with the doorknob still in
hand. I searched his gaze, hoping he would see how much I wanted to play
the desperate vixen and throw myself at him, but I was using self-control.
“And what we do after hours doesn’t have to affect what happens when the
clock is ticking.”
“I really have a lot to do tonight.”
He didn’t say no.
That was the thread of hope I clung to as I packed my things and headed
home. Seeing that bulge in his pants was proof enough that he wanted me.
And it drove me wild. I started to imagine what it would be like to kiss him
again, or maybe fuck him.
The song on the radio as I drove distracted me from my fantasizing, so I
shut it off and drove in silence, working myself up to the point where I knew
I’d have to get release just to relax and enjoy my evening. I hadn’t felt horny
like this since I was a teenager. What the fuck was that man doing to me?
At home, I ditched my coat and satchel on the couch and headed straight
to my nightstand drawer where my vibrator was always on standby for
moments like this. It wasn’t the first time I’d imagined fucking Derek, but it
was the first time it drove me to masturbation—well, at least in my adult life.
I’d done it plenty of times as a kid.
The room was a bit chilly, which made my nipples hard as soon as I shed
my bra and panties and lay down on the bed. My pussy was so wet I had a
puddle dampening my panties, and my fingers slid through the moisture,
gloriously teasing my clit.
Images of Derek’s smile filled my thoughts before I had even shut my
eyes, and when I turned on my imagination, there was nothing stopping me. I
slid my vibrator into my pussy, turning it on high. Derek was probably bigger
than the old thing, but I pushed it in as deep as I could, hitting my back wall
and making myself clench around it.
I pictured him on top of me, sliding in and out, his firm abs like a
washboard against my hand as I massaged my clit. If he were here, I’d have
him slide his dick between my tits, smearing my wetness on them and
pleasuring himself. The thought of him titty fucking me sent ripples of
pleasure through my body. I massaged my clit faster, slowly pushing the
vibrator in and out of myself.
“You know you want me. Why keep denying it?” I’d whisper to him as I
stroked him, sliding back on his desk and spreading my legs. Of course, I
pictured us both naked already, conveniently. He would drop to his knees,
begging me to let him eat me, and I would oblige him and pull his eager
tongue straight to my core.
“Suck me, Derek . . .” I’d beg him to push his fingers into me, to speed
their movement.
I thrust the vibrator harder, feeling the friction taunt me closer to the
edge. Frantic pants left my lips. My mental image changed now. He had me
bent over his desk, forcing his cock into me, pounding so hard the desk
traveled with each thrust. Fuck, I wanted him so badly.
I was so wet I could barely feel the friction of the vibrator, so I pulled it
out and licked it clean, imagining how he’d kiss me and I would taste myself
on his lips. It was enough to make my body begin clenching.
“Fuck . . . Derek . . .” I gasped as I pushed the toy back into myself and
my climax came. My body convulsed as images of Derek filling me flooded
my thoughts. I could almost feel his hot explosion as my body shook the bed.
I came so hard, I nearly lost my breath.
And when I was done, I lay there with that damn vibrator hanging out of
me, so sated from the orgasm I could almost fall asleep.
If just imagining how amazing he was made me feel this good, what
would the real thing do?

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER FIVE

Derek

W HEN THE RED sports car pulled into my driveway, my day soured instantly.
Peter had a way of trying to manipulate me into coughing up cash after
Mom’s inheritance ran out, and I was fed up with it. The last three times he
came asking for money, I’d sent him away penniless. It looked like I’d have
to do the same thing here.
I stood in the pasture, working the mare a bit to keep her active. As her
due date grew closer, she was becoming more sedentary, which wasn’t good
for her or her foal. The vet recommended that I walk her a bit every day to
keep her active and her blood pumping. She was on the older side for foaling,
but I wanted another thoroughbred from her if I could get one. The horses
sold at auction for a hefty chunk to racing fanatics out of Kentucky.
Peter parked his car by the house and walked toward it as if he hadn’t
seen me. It gave me a few extra minutes to work with the mare before he
came begging. I knew what he wanted. It was what he always wanted—a
handout. Mom had died and left us equal parts of an inheritance she had
acquired from her parents when they died. As a pastor’s wife, Mom believed
money was the root of all evil and refused to touch a penny of it, not even to
support the church or invest in her own health.
My younger brother had spent his in a matter of months, while mine still
sat in a savings account, haunting me. Why Peter had no sense of
responsibility with that many zeros in his bank account baffled me. True, I
went to college, and my career afforded me everything I had without dipping
into that inheritance. Still, Peter had also gone to college—a liberal arts
degree. He just hadn’t learned how to manage money.
It had only been a few years since Mom died, and he never let me forget
that my profession was that of a doctor who cared for women and she had
died of a very treatable disease. What he failed to acknowledge was the fact
that no matter how many times I’d lectured Dad on how easily a medication
could treat her hypothyroidism, he’d refused to buy it for her. And worse, she
believed his pack of lies about God being the “healer of the brokenhearted”
when the doctor said her thyroid condition was causing a heart condition.
Just remembering those conversations stirred my grief-fueled rage. Peter
brought back those bad memories just by showing up, and we hadn’t even
spoken yet. When I heard him call my name from the back deck, I didn’t look
up. The mare needed my attention or she’d get too tired. So I led her to the
barn where she could drink and lie down if she wanted to, and for a moment,
I earned a reprieve from the anger.
When Peter found me, his scowl and gruff tone revealed his irritation
with me. “Didn’t you hear me?”
“Oh, Pete. No, I didn’t hear you.” I shut the stall door, letting the mare
have some rest, and carried her bridle and reins toward the tack room. “What
brings you by?” I didn’t have to ask, but I did.
“Listen, can’t a brother just stop by for a visit?” He followed on my heels
like a lost puppy. Except, his yips for attention may just earn him a kick,
where if he were a puppy, I’d be smitten.
“Sure, if a brother wasn’t constantly begging for my money.” The tack
room was a cluttered mess, and I scowled at the way it had been left. I’d have
to speak to my stable hand, Hammer, about all this. Though it was entirely
possible that Evan left it like this too, in which case we’d just have to leave it
at that. He had enough to deal with after returning from the service in such
bad shape emotionally.
The retreat into the tack room to hang the harness allowed me a bit of
breathing room, but I knew it wouldn’t last. As soon as I reentered the barn,
Peter stared me down. He had his hands crammed into his jeans pockets, his
red and white flannel shirt tucked in too tightly. The boots he wore looked
more like a pair of fashion footwear he’d selected to impress me with his
ability to blend in. They weren’t worn, ragged leather, faded from the sun,
and broken in like a good saddle.
 “If you just listen to my idea, I think you’re going to love it. I want to
open a restaurant here in Yellow Springs that caters specifically to diabetics.
We’ll call it—”
“Just stop there, Peter.” I held my hand up and walked away from him,
heading out of the barn. He scurried after me, his hastening steps sounding
like rats running from the light.
“You didn’t even listen.”
I spun around to meet his gaze just as I left the barn. It was cold, and I
had no interest in arguing with him about something he knew I would never
support.
“I don’t need to listen.” My scowl deepened. “Yellow Springs is too
small. Yes, we have diabetic people, but not enough to frequent a restaurant
geared toward only them. You’d shut down in less than a month. If you’re
going to do something like that, you need to be in a huge city like NYC.”
Continuing my trek toward the house, I ignored a few desperate pleas for
me to “at least listen” and turned the collar of my jacket up against the
breeze. Early May, but it still felt like winter. I was nearly to the house before
the words he slung at me sliced through my back like a harpoon, hooking me
and forcing me to turn on him.
“You are just jealous that Mom loved my ideas more than yours. It’s why
you deserted us and ran off to California. Probably why you almost killed
that lady too, isn’t it?” His chest heaved as he shouted at me from a few
strides away. “Isn’t it? You just ran off and started drinking and stewing
because she loved me more than you. Is that why you never tried to help her
too? You didn’t even want her to live?”
I closed the gap between us in exactly three steps, and my fist connected
with the right side of his face. Peter stumbled back, bent over and holding his
cheek. I clenched my fists, glaring at him.
“Get off my property.” If he stayed even one more second, I was going to
do serious physical harm to him. He straightened and rubbed his jaw, an
apologetic look flashing across his features.
“Okay, I deserved that.” He held his hands up defensively. “I’m sorry.”
I said nothing. He wasn’t actually sorry. This was part of his MO. He’d
push my buttons and then force me to feel bad for treating “Mommy’s little
angel” like dirt. I’d feel so guilty I’d help him. That was how this worked. I
was so ashamed to admit we’d done this dance over and over. All I could do
was stare him down.
 “Listen, I’m just hard out of luck lately. I need help. Like a couple
thousand. It’s all I need.” He glanced back at his car and then at me. “I’ll do
whatever. I just need some help. Mom would want you to help me.”
How dare he use her against me? Rage boiled in my gut, but he was right.
Mom would want me to help him. She would give me her famous lecture.
“Boys, you have tons of friends that come and go, but you only get one
brother. So treat each other right because one day, you’re going to need each
other.”
I seriously doubted I’d ever need Peter, but he clearly needed me. Rolling
my eyes, I sighed. My hand stung, and my ego took a major hit, but I had to
help him.
“The only thing I can do is let you work around here.” I gestured at the
barn. “If you are willing to do that, I’ll pay you.”
“Yeah, yeah. No problem. I’ll do anything. I can come by next week,
Monday, 7 p.m. Is that good?”
At this point, I’d say anything to get him the fuck off my property. I
nodded, and he was in his car and driving away faster than he’d even
convinced me to help him. I watched the plume of dirt in the air until the
wind carried it away. Too bad it couldn’t carry away my anger or the knot of
emotion in my chest just thinking about Mom.
I slunk into the house, peeled off my jacket, and slumped down at the
table with a cold beer. I remembered times when Maggie had just lost her
mother and she and I sat with a container of ice cream nursing her emotional
wounds. I had been there for her countless times because I knew she needed
me.
Now, I sat wondering why I felt so emotionally constipated that I couldn’t
reach out to anyone to help me figure out why I was so enraged with my
father over Mom’s death. My thoughts instinctively went to Maggie again.
We’d spent hours over the past few weeks catching up and talking. If anyone
would understand the way my heart was still grieving my Mom’s death two
years later, it was her. So why couldn’t I bring myself to just call her?
She’d practically thrown herself at me this past week. Every man’s
fucking dream come true—a drop-dead gorgeous woman with an incredibly
sexy body and a mind like no other, throwing herself at me, and I tell her I’m
working? What the fuck was wrong with me?
I slid my phone from my pocket and looked at her saved contact. The
only picture I had was a group photo I'd taken of the entire staff to update our
website, removing Sofia and the old dietician and adding Maggie. I’d just
cropped the others out and centered the profile pic on her. Still, she was
gorgeous.
In fact, she was pretty damn perfect—funny, sexy, smart, responsible, and
not into psychotic religion like half the women in this town. Magnolia was
the literal woman of my dreams in every way, and I’d ostracized her with a
ridiculous rule I’d made up about inner-office dating. If she were at my home
right now, I’d be doing away with that rule. The issue was, I wasn’t sure if it
was because I was upset and my body was craving release as a means to cope
with my stress or if my heart was telling me I still had feelings for her.
Maggie Brock was under my skin. And it was bad.
So bad that less than ten minutes after Peter had pissed me off bad
enough to slug him, I had forgotten he even existed. No one and nothing had
ever made me forget that much anger so quickly before. She was right. There
was something between us, and it really was only a matter of time before
everyone in the office knew we both wanted each other. We had to stop this
nonsense before it got out of control.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER SIX

Maggie

C URT ’ S HOME business selling medical supplies and pharmaceuticals really

must have taken off. I stood on the deck of a spectacular Victorian home in
downtown Yellow Springs overlooking an in-ground pool and nearly a
quarter-acre back yard. For mid-May, it was still too chilly to open the pool
up, but I suspected these cookouts would become a more regular thing.
“Fancy, huh?” Curt slipped out the back door and stood next to me. The
sweater he wore had struck me as being overdressed for the evening, but then
I was the one shivering in the cold right now while he looked comfortable.
“Who knew?” I shook my head, smiling at him. “And Dad thought I’d be
the wealthy one, getting my degree and diving into the healthcare field.” I
nudged him with my elbow, and we shared a laugh over my father’s
insistence that we both follow his footsteps and go to medical school. I was
certain he was sorely disappointed by both of our choices, but we hadn’t
strayed far.
Curt hated doctors, but he agreed that medicine was profitable, and thus, a
pharm rep was born. I, however, struggled with insulin resistance as a teen,
which prompted me to invest in my health and learn about holistic practices. I
decided that if people would eat proper food, it would reduce their risk of
illness and disease, and I never looked back. Diet and nutrition became my
passion.
“Yeah, well, Mom would be proud of us both.” Curt’s voice took on a
nostalgic tone. I missed her too. She left us when we were so young—damn
breast cancer.
“She would have.” I turned away, feeling teary-eyed. “I think Dad is too.
He just doesn’t say it as often.”
“Well, enough of that sappy shit. I wanted to let you know I’ve invited a
few guys you should meet. I met one of them—Tony—at a pharmaceutical
conference. Then I met Ian at the gym a few weeks ago. And either one of
them may hit it off with you.”
I chuckled. Curt had never been in the business of setting me up with
guys unless it meant I was distracted from Derek. He was too easy to predict.
I knew if I hooked up with Derek today, Curt would be upset, but at least we
were adults now. He couldn't stop us even if he wanted to.
“He’s coming?” I cocked my head and rolled my eyes, then stood tiptoed
and peeked over his shoulder into the house where a few men milled about
the kitchen behind women who looked to be preparing dishes of food.
“Yeah, he’s coming.” Curt scowled. “Just lay off. His mom died a few
years ago, and he’s probably still sore about it.”
Strange, Derek hadn’t mentioned any of that to me yet. We had talked so
many times, but he hadn’t said a word, and I began to wonder if the closeness
I had been feeling with him was just one-sided. Curt must have noticed my
crestfallen face because his scowl deepened.
“What?” he asked me, sidestepping just as I did. I aimed at the back door,
but he blocked my path.
“Derek didn’t tell you?”
Curt’s eyebrows rose. “Tell me what?” He glanced nervously at the house
where my eyes were fixed. I hadn’t seen a trace of him, but I couldn’t wait to
say hi.
“He hired me to work for him at the wellness center.”
The news must have shocked Curt, who let me pass right by him and
sneak into the warmth of his kitchen. He followed behind me, whispering
over my shoulder. “Yeah, but the rule is still the rule. He’s my best friend,
Mags. Just lay off, alright?”
I gestured with my hand. “Yeah, yeah.”
Ignoring him entirely, I embarked on my search of his entire downstairs,
hoping to find Derek nestled in a quiet corner somewhere, but when I spotted
him, he was standing next to a group of women. One of them—a scrawny
blonde bimbo with a pinched nose and too-thick makeup—clung to his arm
as if she owned him, but I knew better than that. He’d told me he wasn’t
seeing anyone.
Derek looked uncomfortable at the very least, and I intended to rescue
him. I strolled up and smiled, interjecting myself into the conversation about
realty and mortgage values. Was that what adults talked about at parties?
Blech.
“Ladies, if you don’t mind, I need to steal the good doctor.” I weaved my
arm around his, and Pinched Nose scowled at me. With a huge smile, I
added, “Work stuff.” I winked at Pinched Nose and guided Derek away from
them, toward the garage.
“Thank God you saved me.” He chuckled as we strolled out the side door
toward the scent of food. The garage had been closed off and heated. Tables
of food lined the walls, crockpots and casserole dishes.
“No problem. You looked miserable.” Letting him go, I headed straight
for a bowl of chili, topping it with cheese and bacon bits. Derek added a
dollop of sour cream to his, and we stood chatting while we ate.
“Curt is doing well for himself.” Derek made dumb small talk while I
wanted to skip straight to the meat of why I’d approached him. It was the first
social event we had attended together, and I was eager to cut loose with him a
bit.
“Yeah, he is. I think he planned this party just to feel like the old days.
Remember when we had that giant house party? It was your senior year. I
was a freshman, and Curt was a junior. You guys played the Catholic school
and won. Curt had a friend buy a keg, and it was almost a rager until Dad
came in and blew us up.”
Derek laughed and wiped his mouth. “Yeah, and boy, were we in trouble.
He made us clean the whole thing up, and we had to wash all the walls and
shampoo all the carpets.” He took another bite of chili, his bowl almost
empty. I slurped mine right from the bowl. The last few dribbles were always
the best. He shook his head at me. Some things never changed.
“Remember what happened afterward?” I asked, tossing my dish in the
garbage. The lone partygoer who lingered in the garage with us meandered
back into the house and left us alone. Perfect timing for the conversation I
wanted to have with him.
Derek took his last bite and wiped his mouth before tossing his trash out
too. I could almost feel the mood of the room change as he turned to me.
“Yeah, if I remember correctly, that was the day your dad ran out of
carpet shampoo and made Curt drive him to the store to buy more. We were
alone. We got into a water fight, which turned into a pretty hot make-out
session.” The way he licked his lips teased me. I wasn’t sure if he was
drawing my attention to them or if he just tasted lingering chili. I wanted to
lick it off for him.
Moving closer to him, I fiddled with a button on his shirt. He didn’t shy
away, which was promising. My body tensed as I leaned in. He was just
inches from me now. “I remember that day very fondly. I think it’s one of my
favorite memories with you.” My eyes traced up his chest to his face, which
was decidedly fixed on me—dilated pupils and all.
“Yeah?” Derek’s hand rested on my hip, sending a flurry of sensations
through my body and encouraging me to continue. “What do you like most
about that memory?”
Even though I was playing it cool on the outside, my insides were
screaming. After his rebuff in the office, I was certain he would play the
“inner-office dating” card and walk away. But he was there, hand on my hip,
face turned toward mine. And fuck if that cologne wasn’t intoxicating enough
to get me high.
“Oh, I don’t know . . . this?” Ready to make my move, I rose up on my
tiptoes and let my eyes flutter shut. His hand steadied me, riding along my
hip like it was made to order. I could feel his breath brushing over my lips
and let my lips part slowly.
“Derek!”
The nasally voice of Pinched Nose made him jerk away, and I was left
catching myself on the table. When my eyes opened to take her in, she was
smirking and Derek was turning for another bowl of chili.
“Yeah, Brittani, what’s up?” Derek’s voice was remarkably calm for
having such an intense moment interrupted. His hands were calm as he
doctored his second bowl of soup and turned to face the impudent blonde.
“Curt asked for you. You should come in. We’re going to play a drinking
game.”
The minute Pinched Nose—a.k.a. Brittani—left, Derek set the bowl of
chili down and offered me a half-smile and an expression that begged me to
understand. I didn’t say a word as he walked out the side garage door, his
keys jingling in his pocket. I could smack that woman for killing the mood.
Part of me thought if I followed Derek out the door, maybe he’d invite me
home. But part of me wondered whether he was grateful she’d interrupted us.
Once again, I was rebuffed, but not in a way that communicated a hard “no”.
I stared at the bowl of chili Derek had prepared, thinking how it would go
to waste. But the more I looked at it, the more I realized he couldn’t have
made it for himself. Derek loved sour cream, and I hated it. This bowl of chili
had cheese and bacon bits, just the way I liked it.
A smile curled my lips as I picked up the bowl of chili and realized he
had done that to show me he was thinking of me. Maybe he wasn’t all work
and no play, after all.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER SEVEN

Derek

I SHUT the door behind myself as I left, not even looking back to see whether
Maggie noticed the chili I had prepared was made to order. Feeling her that
close to me again was painfully arousing. I had to adjust my dick in my pants
as I walked to my car. Magnolia Brock was off limits for more than one
reason, but my cock seemed to think she was fair game. If I hadn’t left when
I did, I knew something would go down and I’d piss Curt off again.
The night was chilly, and it took my car a bit to get warm. I drove across
town to my place on the outskirts, but I couldn’t get her out of my mind. She
smelled like warm vanilla . . . or was it sugar cookies? My brain got jumbled
up the second she touched my shirt as if she owned me, possessively pawing
at my button. Fuck, had I wanted to kiss her, and hell if Brittani didn’t pick
the worst time to interrupt.
The property was dark when I pulled up. I’d half expected Hammer to
have left a light on in the barn, but thankfully, I was not playing babysitter
tonight for him. It made it easy to slip into the house and grab a beer from the
fridge and relax on the sofa. I popped the cap and tossed it onto the coffee
table, gulping the cold drink faster than was tasteful, but something needed to
calm my racing heart. She had been so fucking close to me.
I could have done it, kissed her and reminded myself what it felt like to
taste those full lips of hers. And if I had, Curt would no doubt be hunting me
down right now. I leaned my head back on the couch and closed my eyes,
resting my beer on my knee with my hand still locked around the cold bottle.
Maggie was something else. She always had been. I had just been too
much of a coward to stand up to her brother and see just how amazing she
was. And it wasn’t just the fact that she put out, either. She was gorgeous.
Her smile changed the way I felt, like turning on a light in a dark room. And
she was smart and funny—and holy shit, I wanted to feel her tits in my hands.
My mind started to run away with me, imagining her walking into my
office and peeling her clothes off little by little. That seductive pout she
always got on her lips as she advanced toward me. I felt my cock stirring and
brushed my hand across the front of my pants a few times, encouraging it.
What I wouldn’t give to bend her over my desk and slide into her moisture,
feel her from the inside.
I snapped my eyes open, realizing what I was doing, and finished my
beer. I couldn’t think of her that way. Maggie was my employee, not an old
flame I needed to rekindle. It didn’t matter how much chemistry we had or
how bad my dick wanted her. I couldn’t do it. She deserved the respect of any
other employee, and I needed to control myself.
So I rose from the couch and threw out my empty beer bottle, deciding a
cold shower may help calm me down. After grabbing another beer, I headed
to the master bathroom and emptied my pockets before undressing. My dick
was still sensitive, the rustling of fabric across it as I pulled my pants off just
enough stimulation to rouse it a bit. Pushing the thought of Maggie away, I
turned on the water—ice cold.
As I picked up the dirty laundry to toss it in the hamper, I noticed a
notification on my phone. The screen lit up with a text indicator, and the
name Maggie screamed for my attention. With the laundry still in hand, I
picked up the phone and swiped right, reading the message.

M AGGIE 9:16 PM: Thanks for the chili.

H ER MESSAGE CAME with a slew of emojis, the last one being a smiley face
surrounded with hearts. My chest tightened, and so did my stomach as I set
the phone back down and dropped the laundry in the hamper. So she had
gotten the message.
 Just seeing her name on my phone was enough to make me stand at
attention again. I felt my dick swelling and gritted my teeth. I had to deal
with this or I’d end up messing the sheets while I slept. So I adjusted the
water to a nice, steamy temperature and stepped into the water, letting it
drench my hair as I slid my hand across my cock.
I pictured Maggie’s smile as I leaned down to kiss her, her eyes fluttering
shut. She tasted like wine, her kiss forceful and passionate. I stroked myself
as I imagined her kissing down my neck and across my chest, her hands
trailing down my sides as she lowered to her knees.
Her ruby lipstick left streaks across my skin down to my dick, where she
took me into her mouth, her tongue like velvet. I stroked faster as her sucking
became more fervent and her breasts brushed against my knees. As fast as the
images appeared in my mind, they vanished, new ones replacing them, even
hotter than the previous.
Maggie’s round ass bent over in front of me, and with one hand spreading
herself tauntingly, she whispered filthy things to me. If only I could hear her
voice as she begged me to fuck her. “Derek, I need you. Come fill my pussy.”
On the edge already, I slowed myself, wanting to enjoy it. The hot water
lubed my hand, but nothing like the silky moisture of her pussy, and fuck, did
I want that. I fantasized about sliding into her, how good it would feel when
her strong muscles clenched around me as I made her come. What her voice
would sound like when she called my name in the middle of an orgasm. Even
what her face would look like if she could look me in the eye or if she’d have
her eyes closed. And in that moment, I realized I wasn’t just fantasizing about
her. I was craving her.
My orgasm hit me hard, almost doubling me over. I shot my load onto the
glass shower door with a picture of her mouth agape, me inside her,
pleasuring her. It nearly drained me, and I leaned against the shower wall for
a moment as the twitches lingered and then faded. I rinsed the cum off the
glass before washing up.
My cock stayed hard for at least five more minutes. The thought of
having Maggie had worked me up so much, I could have gone again if I had
less self-control. It wasn’t the first time I had done that—masturbated to
thoughts of her. But it was the first time since she had returned to Yellow
Springs that I’d done that. And now that it was done, all I could think was
how fucking badly I wanted the real thing with her.
Dangerous.
 I finished in the shower and dried off, wrapping the towel around my
waist and grabbing my phone before venturing out for another beer and
retiring to bed. I flicked the TV in the bedroom on and tuned in to the
baseball game, Yankees at Yankee stadium in the top of the eighth. I wasn’t
especially fond of baseball, but it wasn’t quite football season yet.
I felt better, more relaxed. The tension in my chest was gone, but my
thoughts still clung to vivid images of Maggie bent over in front of me. I
opened her message and read it over and over again, trying to discern
whether there was some meaning behind the emojis she’d chosen—heart,
smiley face, flower, smiley with hearts around it. I didn’t use emojis, and I
didn’t text many people who did, so for all I knew, she was sending me a
code.
The longer I lay there drinking my beer and watching baseball, the more I
worked myself up to text her back. I typed up a huge message with the
essential information. I wanted her really badly. I had played while thinking
of her, and we should really connect. Then I deleted the entire thing because I
thought better of it. I typed another message, a bit shorter this time but more
tasteful.
I wrote how it had been so long and it would be nice to catch up with her
alone sometime. How I loved recalling the memories we’d talked about. I
thought it would communicate that I was definitely interested in those
memories, but as my thumb hovered over the Send button, I opted for Delete
again.
When I finally settled on a message to send her and followed through, it
was much simpler. If I was going to do this thing, it had to be because I cared
about her. I wasn’t—not even for a second—going to make her feel like an
object or some sort of toy. Maggie had such a precious heart, and she
deserved to be cherished.

D EREK 9:56 PM: Glad you liked it. It was great catching up with you
tonight, just like old times. See you at work Monday.

I FOLLOWED that with a winking emoji, and that was the amount of flirting I
felt comfortable with. I felt the message communicated my thoughts well,
even if I did have to fight back my more animalistic side to remain a
gentleman.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER EIGHT

Maggie

I T WAS LATE . I knew Derek was waiting on me to finish so he could lock up

and go home. Tammy had booked me this 6 p.m. appointment because the
poor younger mother had work all day and had college classes right after that,
but she was struggling with gestational diabetes and needed my coaching on
how to structure her diet in order to balance her blood sugars. I had prepared
well in advance, but she had so many questions, I couldn’t leave her hanging.
“And so you say I should get thirty to fifty carbs per meal. Does that
include the fiber? I’m so confused.” She rubbed at the deep furrows in her
forehead. I felt sorry for her. I had been diagnosed a type-two diabetic as a
teenager, and I struggled with it until I got my diet right. I knew she’d be
okay if we got her eating healthfully.
“Yes, that’s the norm, but you can have fewer as long as you are fueling
your body with healthy things like cruciferous vegetables and legumes. Don’t
eat refined sugars. Avoid breads and potatoes. You’ll get the hang of it. I
have actually put together a meal plan for you here.” As I slid the laminated
printout across my desk to her, I saw Derek peek into my office for the third
time. He didn’t look upset, but I understood his subtle hint. He wanted to go
soon.
“Hanah, I need to get you on your way now, but if you need more advice,
you can feel free to call the office and ask any questions you have. If the
ladies can’t help you, they’ll patch you through to me.” I stood, and she
followed my lead, grabbing her jacket and purse and the printouts I’d given
her.
“But I heard from a friend that moving to a warmer climate is good for
your health." Hanah slid her arms into her jacket and draped the purse over
her shoulder.
“That may be true, but it’s not going to do anything for your nutrition. I
think that’s more to do with bad joints, arthritis, you know." She kept talking,
and I walked around the end of my desk, hoping to encourage her toward the
door.
“Oh, yeah. I understand that, but I mean Florida is so much better for
growing your own food. I would love to have a huge garden all year round
down there.”
“Did you see the damage from the recent storms?" Why did I say that? I
wanted her to leave, and there I was continuing the conversation. I nudged
her toward the door, but she only took one tentative backward step before
responding.
“Oh, yeah, it’s probably one of the only reasons I haven’t made the move
just yet." She laughed.
“It’s hard to think, whole neighborhoods completely wiped out, though.
And there have probably been so many deaths because this is America and
not even the weatherman can tell Americans what to do.”
“Why do you think that? The deaths, I mean.” Hanah tucked her purse
beneath her armpit, gripping the strap that draped across her shoulder tightly.
“Well, because there are a lot of folks who move over from the central
plains. They probably thought a hurricane was just like a big tornado. And
you know what happens every time there’s a storm. Everyone just goes out to
look at it. They probably don’t understand what the difference is. Makes me
wonder, though, if now would be a good time to visit Disney World.”
“I don’t think the theme parks have ever taken a direct hit from a
hurricane. But my favorite resort down on Sanibel Island is gone, so I’m not
sure what we are going to do come summer.”
“Oh, gosh, that’s a shame. I saw Fort Myers was in a similar state.” I
looked up and saw Derek tapping his watch. “I’m sorry, Hanah, but I really
need to go.” She must have seen me looking over her shoulder at the door
and glanced that way. Derek was already walking away.
“Gosh, I’m sorry. I’ll get out of your hair now.”
She shuffle-walked to the door and let herself out, and I pressed my hand
to my forehead, thinking how I should follow her out, but I didn’t want to
keep the conversation active. So I called a quick, “Bye,” and let her leave.
When I heard the front office door click shut, I breathed a sigh of relief
and grabbed my things quickly before heading to Derek’s office. He sat
behind his desk, leaning over it and pinching the bridge of his nose. He
looked frustrated, and I knew it was my fault. A glance at the clock revealed
that it was almost seven.
“God, I’m sorry, Derek.” I pushed his door open and hovered in the
doorway. His eyes popped up at me and I continued, “I couldn’t get her to
leave. She had so many questions. I’m sorry if you had other plans or
whatever. I won’t let this happen again.”
“It wasn’t you.” His voice was flat but not angry. He rose and grabbed his
jacket from the back of his chair. The tightness in his shoulders and the
grimace on his face told me something was bothering him.
“What’s wrong?” I stepped farther into the office, concerned. I wondered
whether Curt heard about our almost-kiss and lectured him or something. Or
maybe he got bad news about a patient.
“My brother . . . he keeps coming around asking for money, and I just
lose my patience with him. Mom left us both an inheritance when she passed,
and he blew through his already.” He draped the jacket over his arm as he
talked. I could see he was very upset, and after hearing about his mom
passing from Curt, I’d wanted to talk to him about it.
I set my purse and jacket down on a chair and moved closer to him,
touching his elbow in a comforting gesture. “I’m so sorry to hear your mom
passed and that Peter is being difficult.” His eyes met mine, but he didn’t
speak. “Do you need to talk about it?”
Derek shrugged, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. There was a
sudden charge in the air that hadn’t been there moments before, like the same
electric tension that I’d felt when we had almost kissed at Curt’s party. He
didn’t shy away from me as I moved even closer, and the thought that we
were completely alone in this office needled at my resolve. Putting the moves
on Derek in the privacy of my brother’s garage was much less intimidating
than here in this office, especially with his “inner-office dating” policy.
But the way he had responded to me in that garage had only bolstered my
confidence. I had to take the chance now. “I could help you take your mind
off it.” Letting my gaze venture down across his body and back up to his
face, I took the jacket off his arm.
 “How would you do that?” Derek didn’t flinch when I tossed the jacket to
the chair on top of my things. His voice was buttery and warm. The air
sizzled as I splayed my hand across his chest, feeling the taut muscles there.
He knew how I’d do it, and this time, we wouldn’t be interrupted by some
pinched-nosed Barbie.
“I could think of a few ways.”
My hand lingered on his chest, my eyes grazing his desk. We’d make a
bit of noise, maybe a bit of a mess too, but it was now or never. As my eyes
roamed back to him, he leaned forward. I hadn’t expected him to be the
aggressor, but he cupped my cheek, pulling me in.
My body wanted to collapse to the floor like Jell-O, my knees weak, and I
felt my core begin to tense. His lips were soft at first, his touch gentle. I
sensed a hesitancy behind his actions, as if we both knew it was wrong and
we were those teenagers hiding beneath the bleachers hoping we didn’t get
caught. But when my hand brushed across the hardening bulge in his pants, it
sent shockwaves of arousal down my middle. I clenched so hard I thought I’d
get a Charlie horse. Fuck, I wanted him.
Our kissing grew frenzied, hungry, two animals sensing each other’s need
and devouring each other. The way his teeth raked over my lips and across
my cheek, pressing into my neck, drove me wild. His greedy hands pulled at
my shirt, and my tender skin was exposed as he pulled it free of my
waistband. I worked at the buttons on his shirt, but I was all thumbs. I’d
waited for this for too long to even think straight.
“Fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this.” His words huffed out between
frenetic movements as he pulled my shirt up over my head. I couldn’t undo
his buttons fast enough. When I got the top three undone, he yanked his shirt
off too.
“Holy fuck,” I stuttered, kissing his chest. “God, you’ve grown up, Mr.
Holt.” This all felt so wrong, seducing my boss in his office. But he’d made
that first move, hadn’t he? Or had I imagined it? And fuck, if his standing in
front of me shirtless didn’t make me throw every trace of propriety out the
window.
“Glad you approve. Now if you don’t mind . . .” He nudged me aside as
he drew a hand across his desk, pushing the few items in our way aside. The
minute the desk was clear, he turned on me, hooking an arm around my
waist. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve pictured you bent over
my desk?”
 His mouth was devouring mine before I could even answer him, and it
took my breath away. I had thought the attraction might be only one-sided,
that he might have been humoring me. But the feral beast voraciously pawing
at my skin said otherwise.
“You mean the boss wants to fuck me? Isn’t that a bit risky, fantasizing
about an employee?” I worked at his belt buckle until I’d gotten it loose, then
undid the button on his pants. “What if you like it and you can’t get enough?”
My hand found his cock and gripped it firmly.
Derek emitted a low growl and grabbed a handful of my hair, tilting my
head back until my mouth dropped open. His stubbled face scraped across
mine in another bout of passionate kisses. My pussy ached for him, tensing
and creating a mess in my panties, and with one hand on my left hip, he
turned me until the backs of my thighs pressed against the desk.
Even the fantasizing I’d done alone in my bedroom hadn’t gotten me this
worked up. The way he manhandled me, grabbing my side and forcing my
head to crane backward so he could get to my neck, was so hot I was already
a bit warm. It felt like a thousand degrees, and I could feel the furnace
blowing air across my body which was covered in a fine layer of perspiration.
“Maybe the boss just wants you to shut up and do as you're told.” His
hand left my side and deftly unsnapped my front-hook bra. Derek turned my
hair loose and used both hands to push the bra off my breasts and away. His
eyes grew wide as he squeezed one, then the other. “Fuck.”
We’d made out several times as kids. He’d touched me through clothing,
but never like this. And he’d never seen me in less than a swimsuit. I kept my
eyes on his face as he took me in, but I pulled his pants and boxers down over
his hips, exposing his dick for my viewing pleasure. I stroked him as he
enjoyed touching my tits. I wasn’t exactly a small woman by any means, so
there was more than enough to keep him entertained.
He leaned down to kiss my tender skin, taking one of my nipples into his
mouth, and his hips pulled away so I could no longer reach him. So I worked
on my own slacks, unbuttoning them and pushing them down. Derek’s
stubble felt like sandpaper on my chest, but the way his tongue swirled
around my nipple drove me wild. I stepped out of my shoes and left my
clothing in a pile as I stole one of his hands from my breast and lowered it,
encouraging him to explore.
“God, just tease me a little,” I breathed out. My fingers laced through his
hair, and he got the point. The first brush of his fingertips over my clit was
sensual, the next one lecherous. And when he plunged into my moisture and I
clenched around him, an erotic moan escaped, only to be silenced by his lips
again.
“Shh . . . okay? We can do this, but we keep it quiet. I want to see the
pleasure on your face, not hear it. You want to make noise, you have to ask
me first.” Derek’s thumb pressed down on my clit as his fingers hooked
around inside me, massaging me. I nearly doubled over at the intense
sensations he was creating inside me.
Nodding at him, I squeaked out, “Yes, sir.” I tried to stifle another moan,
but it leaked out anyway.
“Now, be a good girl. Listen to me. You have to stay quiet here. Got it?”
Fuck, if the way his fingers worked didn’t make me come standing up. I
bit down on his shoulder feeling like an amateur, my body convulsing as he
thrust two fingers into me. He never let up either, his low, guttural grunts of
satisfaction matching my whimpers. I wanted to be loud, to scream his name,
but with my teeth sank into his flesh, the sounds were muffled. My pussy
clenched around his thrusts, and with a hand on each of his hips, I let the
orgasm burn itself out, then kissed across his shoulder and chest as I took
hold of his cock again, stroking him.
“Holy shit, that was amazing.” Suddenly conscious that I had been
making noise before this point, and the fact that maybe others in the office
next door may hear, I understood what he wanted.
“I’m glad you liked it.” Derek’s fingers slipped through my moisture and
upward, leaving a trail on my skin that chilled me as the air moved over it.
His thumb pushed into my nipple as he squeezed my breast again. “Now that
you know the rules—”
“You like to break rules, don’t you?” I stroked him harder, squeezing his
cock. “Boss can’t date his employees, but here I am with my cum dripping
from your fingers.”
“Shut up, or I’ll make you lick it off.” His smirk just before kissing me
was priceless. But when I grabbed his hand and pulled my lips from him so I
could suck his fingers clean, I felt his cock shudder in my grip. “Fuck, you’re
pushing my buttons.”
“So, any more rules, Boss Man?”
Derek’s eyes scanned my face like he was searching for something. He
licked his lips and then cupped my cheeks again, kissing me. “God, I really
want you. I’ve been imagining this moment since the day Barbra told me
she’d interviewed you.”
Between feverish kisses, when he took a breath, I asked, “How did you
picture it?” The bead of precum on his dick lubed my grip. He was ready and
I was only teasing him now.
“Like this . . .” He gripped my hips, forcefully turning me away from him
and pushing me down across his desk. The cool surface felt good on my skin.
I braced myself with my hands on either side of my body and tried to
straighten, but he held me down. “Fuck . . . exactly like this.”
With one hand pressing into the center of my back, I felt him sliding his
cock through my moisture, searching for my entrance.
“Shit, Derek. Just fuck me.”
“Shh!” His hiss reminded me of his rules at the same instant he pushed
into me. He was so hard it almost hurt, and in that position, he went so deep I
thought he’d split me open. I whimpered, refusing to let the gasp of pain-
induced pleasure come out as he started thrusting.
He shook the entire desk, he fucked me so hard. I gripped the edge, trying
to hold on, but even the desk walked across the floor. My body tensed again,
the friction of his thrusts stimulating me again. If he kept it up, I’d come
again.
“Oh, God.” My fingers curled around the edge of the desk. I wanted to
touch myself, but he held me down. It wouldn’t take much, just a tiny rub in
the right place. “Please, I need more,” I mewled, reaching for his hand, and
he got the point.
Derek grabbed both of my hips and pulled me toward him, driving his
dick even deeper into me, like he was trying to force himself into my womb.
And with that tiny bit of space between my hips and the desk, he slipped a
hand around my torso until his fingers prodded at my clit. In the slippery
mess, he found it, swirling his fingers in a circle as he fucked me.
The slippery massage was all I needed, and my body quaked with spasms
for the second time.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER NINE

Derek

I F M AGGIE HAD BEEN STROKING me a little harder the first time she came, I’d
have gone with her. This time, as her pussy clenched down around my dick, I
couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to stop it. It was all I could do to continue
massaging her clit as I slid through her juices. I leaned over her, still bracing
myself on her lower back, but now needing to just let the release happen.
I kissed her back as I thrust into her, pinning her to the desk. And when
my release was finished, I pushed in and stayed there as deep as I could until
her pussy stopped contracting around me. Both of us were panting and damp
with sweat . She lay like a limp ragdoll beneath me, her heart pounding so
hard I could feel it in my chest. If I stayed still enough, I could feel the pulses
of her heartbeat through my cock too.
“Fuck, Mags. What did we do?” Planting another kiss on her back, I
pulled the hair out of her face and rested my chin on her shoulder, looking
down at her. Her face was so peaceful, her eyes closed. I wanted to enjoy the
moment, but the sinking sensation of guilt prickled my skin.
“We had really great sex.” Her voice sounded funny with her face half
smashed against my desk, so I stood and offered her a hand. She grimaced
and looked around frantically.
“Fuck, sorry.” I scrambled, snagging a few tissues for her and thrusting
them into her hand.
“Thanks.” She grimaced as she turned away, cleaning herself up. I
avoided watching her to give her privacy and stood awkwardly until she
cleared her throat. “Sorry.”
How on earth could it be this awkward? We just released all of our pent-
up sexual tension which we had been holding in for weeks now. And both of
us acted like kids who’d just had sex for the first time. Even my dick still
stood at attention, as if it hadn’t been satisfied, but my God, it had.
I turned and swallowed the strange nerves building in my chest as she
leaned on the edge of the desk, her hands on either side of her. She lifted
herself up and sat there, legs dangling. Every curve on her body was
captivating. She’d never let me see her like this before. As a teen, she was
always nervous about her appearance, and I didn’t know what happened, but
her confidence was a major turn-on.
“Come here.” She reached for me, wiggling her fingers at me. So I took a
few steps closer until I was within her reach. Maggie grabbed me by the waist
and pulled me into her, spreading her legs so I’d nestle in between her knees
so deeply that my cock slid between her soft folds again.
“Mags, we—”
“Shh,” she hissed, reaching down and guiding me into her body. Her heat
and moisture felt like home. I didn’t assume it would work again, but the
sensation of her surrounding me was heaven. I worked my hips slowly, filling
her, kissing her lips as she responded to me until I knew my body was just
not functioning anymore, and then I remained inside her as we kissed.
When I pulled my mouth from hers, my forehead pressing down on hers,
she smiled. “Thank you.”
“For?” I never wanted to leave her.
“For letting me help you get your mind off things.” She snickered, and it
made me grin.
I remembered my promise to Curt, though, that I’d keep my hands off his
sister. He’d almost killed me that day he’d caught us making out. We’d have
had sex for sure if we weren’t interrupted. I had no idea where any of that
would have gone as kids, but I knew this could go nowhere. Curt and I
weren’t as close as we used to be, but I still considered him a friend, and I
didn’t want to fuck things up. Nor did I want to fuck up my work life by
getting involved with an employee. Maggie didn’t seem the type to let it
cause problems, but it was not just the inner-office dynamic. I also had the
directors of the hospital I reported to.
“Maggie, we can’t do this again.” I pulled out, but I stayed there between
her thighs.
She looked up at me with a smile. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,
Derek. I’ve been wanting this for a long, long time. And it’s not just because
you’re all grown up and sexy. Even when you were a freckle-faced teen with
braces, I thought you were hot.”
God, she was so fucking addictive. I kissed her again, stirring my desire
for her. She trailed her hands up my sides and back down, pulling my hips
deeper into her valley. Addictive wasn’t the right word—it was intoxicating.
And she had some sort of spell over me. I couldn’t get enough.
“Really, Mags.” Between kisses, I made my protests, but she didn’t
relent. “We can’t. This was a mistake.”
“I don’t believe in mistakes. They’re happy accidents.”
“Accidents, mistakes, I can’t.” I pried my hungry lips away from her and
picked up her clothes. She remained perched on the edge of my desk, legs
swinging, watching me. The smile on her face was reassuring. I didn’t know
if she wasn’t taking me seriously or if she was just okay with my decision,
but my gut roiled. I wasn’t even okay with my decision. This woman was
under my skin, and I liked it. I handed her clothing to her and picked up my
own. We dressed without speaking, but she sighed contentedly several times.
“You know, Derek,” she said, turning to me as she slipped her shoes on. I
pulled my shirt on over my head and tucked it in, buttoning the top buttons
before she continued. “It seems to me that for two people who have such a
strong connection, who have had feelings for one another since they were
kids, who obviously have incredible sexual chemistry, rules shouldn’t stand
in the way of a good thing.”
Maggie approached me, pushing my hands out of the way and fixing my
buttons. She smoothed her hands out over my shoulders and then down
across my chest, rising up on her tiptoes to offer me a kiss, which I accepted
stiffly.
“I understand what you’re saying, Mags, but this is different. There is a
lot at stake.”
“Sure, I get that. But you should remember how difficult it is to find
someone who clicks with you the way we click. I really like you, Derek. I
think you feel the same way. And I want you.”
I kissed her forehead and stepped away. “I admit that I do feel something,
and I find you so attractive I lost my self-control today. But it can’t happen
again. Okay?”
 Maggie clicked her tongue at me and smiled, winking as she put on her
jacket and handed me mine. When her purse was slung over her shoulder, she
rested a hand on the doorknob of the open door.
“You continue to tell yourself it’s okay to walk away from what you want
when you know it will make you happy, and I’ll agree that we will never do
this again. Until you can tell yourself that you’re happy ignoring your own
heart while following a rule society sets for you or a promise you made a
decade ago, I think I like this dynamic how it is.”
She shut the door behind her when she left, leaving me flabbergasted and
speechless. She had always been a woman who knew what she wanted, but
I’d never seen this aggressive, confident woman before. I really liked it. And
it intimidated me. It was bad enough that I’d lost my mind and fucked her
over my desk, but to know I had to face up to this now, every time she came
into this office, and try to forget it?
“What the hell, Maggie.”
As much as I wanted to be upset with her for not respecting me as a boss,
I couldn’t help the smile on my face or the skip in my step as I donned my
jacket and headed for my car. That was the hottest sex I’d ever had. How
many times I’d had that same fantasy, and every single second of it was
glorious. Now if I could convince myself not to do it again, we’d be okay.

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER TEN

Maggie

T HE BREAKROOM TABLE was covered with crumbs, and I refused to wipe them
up until Gypsy finished her snack. She was keeping me company after work
until her ride got there to pick her up, yammering on about her car being in
the shop. I entertained her, but the urge to wipe up her mess got to me. My
fingers itched to grab a napkin and clean the table.
“So anyway, the transmission is getting serviced and that should fix the
shaking and stuff. I’m sure that’s totally boring to you, but I learned a lot.”
She crumpled up the foil pack from the chips and threw it in the trash can
before dusting her hands off over the table, leaving more crumbs. Whoever
married or dated her would have to be a neat freak, or maybe just like her—a
little less uptight than me.
“Well, I hope you get it fixed up.”
Derek’s voice in the doorway perked us both up. “Your dad is here.” He
smiled at Gypsy. She’d told me a lot about her dad in our various talks over
lunch and at break times. He cared a great deal for her.
“Thanks!” She popped to her feet and grabbed her purse, dashing out the
door with a wave over her shoulder. “See you tomorrow!” And she was gone.
I instinctively reached into my purse for a wet wipe or anything to clean up
the table, and as I searched, Derek leaned down and brushed the crumbs into
his hand, sweeping them into the trash before I got to it.
“Drives you nuts too?” I chuckled and stood, being hit with a wave of his
cologne. We hadn’t talked much since our escapade in his office five days
ago, but I got the sense that he would have avoided the conversation anyway.
I hadn’t really left him with a vague picture. I had no intention of backing off.
I knew what I wanted, and that was Derek Holt by my side, day and night.
“I’m not a clean freak, but crumbs do bother me.” Derek washed his
hands at the break room sink and used a paper towel to dry them. I wanted to
say something, to bring up what had happened between us, but I didn’t want
to make things awkward. So I stood there making things awkward anyway
because I couldn’t think of anything to say. “Something wrong?”
“No, nothing.” I shook my head and turned to go as he approached me.
He followed me down the hall toward the front of the office, and I wracked
my brain for something to say. I didn’t want to go home. I wanted to talk to
him, or kiss him, or anything to keep me in his presence a bit longer.
“Forgetting your jacket?” he asked, flicking the light off in his office as
he passed. I turned to see him sliding his arms into his jacket.
“Didn’t wear one. It’s nice out today.” Now I was talking about the
weather. What on earth? I sighed, my shoulders dropping.
“What is it?” He straightened the collar on his jacket.
I didn’t have to work up the courage to say what I was about to say, but I
did have to temper my emotions so as not to come across as pushy—or
desperate. God, that would be awful.
“Derek, you haven’t even spoken to me about the other night.” I stared
into his eyes as I watched the range of emotion flash through them—panic,
lust, apprehension, a serious expression I couldn’t place.
“Water under the bridge.” He started for me again, and I dropped my
purse onto a chair in the waiting room and turned to lock the door. His eyes
grew wide. “Why did you do that?”
“We’re not leaving until you admit you liked it.” I thought for a split
second about crossing my arms over my chest, but the tiniest hint of a smirk
graced the corner of his mouth and I knew what he was thinking. “So sit
down right there and tell me you liked it.”
Derek’s nostrils flared, a flash of something in his eyes that was almost
primal. He took his jacket off and sat, laying it across his lap. My heart
fluttered when I realized what was happening. I had wanted nothing more
than to discuss the situation, but the open door he left me begged to be
slammed shut with me and him inside.
“I liked it.” Nonchalant was not the tone I’d expected from him, but those
words on his lips were all the encouragement I needed.
I walked a circle around him, drawing my finger over his back from
shoulder to shoulder as I did so. I rounded to where I’d have to step over his
feet, and instead, I stretched my leg right over his knees and settled down on
his lap, straddling him.
“You liked it?”
He wore a tie today, something I found hugely attractive. I started
loosening it, and he didn’t seem to protest at all. His hands rested on my
thighs, pushing my flouncy skirt up little bits at a time until it was around my
waist and his thumb trailed over the lacy edge of my panties.
“I really liked it. But I thought I told you it couldn’t happen again.”
“And I thought I told you I wasn’t backing down until you could admit
that you have zero interest in me, or that society was right for keeping us
apart simply because of ridiculous rules.” The tie undone, I left it hanging on
his shoulders and began unbuttoning his shirt. Derek gripped my thighs, his
thumb pushing down over my clit. I could tell there was a damp spot there
already.
“You realize on the other side of that door is the outer waiting room
where doctors and nurses walk right past. The only thing keeping them from
hearing things that go on in here is a slab of wood an inch and a half thick.”
Derek pulled the tie from his shoulders and held it in his hands. For a
moment, I thought he’d toss it away, but when he lifted his arms and began to
tie it around my mouth, I couldn’t help but jitter with expectancy.
“That means you have to be really quiet, and I know how much you want
to show me you’re enjoying it by making sounds. So just be a good girl and
let me fuck you quietly so no one knows.”
All I could think was how hot is that? My pussy clenched instinctively as
he squeezed his hands between our legs and undid his pants, pulling his
throbbing dick out. He tapped it against my panties, sending jolts of pleasure
through me. I gripped his shoulders when he pushed a finger beneath the
elastic lace and pulled it to the side.
I wanted to moan, but the tie muffled every sound, even as Derek slid the
head of his dick through my wet slit. My nails would have punctured his skin
if not for his dress shirt, because he pushed his cock up into me so hard it hurt
—and then it felt amazing. In this position, he went deeper than last time,
hitting a spot inside me that drove me wild.
“You’re such a good girl, staying quiet for your boss. Now I want you
scoot forward, let me go a little deeper.” He pulled my body forward on his
lap, his cock sinking farther into me. It had me doubling over, wishing I
could bite down on his shoulder. I gripped the back of the chair and rode him,
my hips rocking in time with his thrusts.
Fuck, just go a little faster . . . With my mouth gagged, I couldn't even tell
him what I liked, but I found very quickly that he knew. His thumb returned
to my clit, and with my panties pushed to the side, the heat of his skin on
mine was all it took. He had me eating out of his hand. I whimpered as he
drove upward into me, massaging my clit with his thumb.
“You like when your boss fucks you, Maggie? You like when I tell you to
do things?” His hoarse whisper against the skin of my neck made me shiver. I
was so close to orgasm I could feel my pussy already burning. Any second, I
would spill over like I was waiting for him to say something that would push
the big green button.
“You want me to tell you to do something really bad?”
I nodded frantically. If he just kept talking and fucking me, I’d be putty in
his hands.
“Come for me.” The gruffness of his voice and the way his thrusts sped
up merged into a blissful erotic euphoria that rushed up my back and prickled
the hair on my neck before causing the strongest orgasm I’d ever had. I
couldn’t contain the guttural groans and noises that came out of me, and I
was, at that time, thankful for the tie knotted around my mouth.
“That’s a good girl, clench that pussy around my cock.” He thrust harder,
driving his dick into my back wall. I’d heard of cervical orgasm but had
never experienced something like this, and fuck, was I missing out my whole
life. “Yeah, that’s it, ride me.”
Derek’s movements slowed as mine took over. I needed more, the
sensations so intense it was like I was an addict needing a fix. I ground my
pelvis down around him, begging to feel his dick hit that spot deep inside me,
and I wasn’t disappointed. When one orgasm finished, another took its place,
stronger than the first. I twitched and jerked like a wild animal, head rolled
back and eyes shut.
“Fuck,” he hissed, his hands now gripping my hips. His thumbs pressed
in hard, as if he were trying to make me stop, but it felt too good to even slow
down. “Shit, Mags.” Even his muscular arms couldn’t restrain me. The
visceral need for his cock to go deeper drove me, my body locked in an
ecstatic state to the point I was unreachable. “Mags, I’m gonna—” His phrase
was cut off by the gasp of his climax. His face buried in the low neckline of
my shirt, he sank his teeth into my breast as I drove him harder. I felt his heat
enter me, each pulse of his dick pressing against my clenched muscles, and
when I was spent, I slowed and lay draped over him.
Derek reached up and untied the tie from my mouth, quickly forcing it
between our bodies. I felt him wrap it around himself, and I slowly rose,
letting him pull out. The mess was mostly contained in the tie, but a bit had
dribbled down onto his pants leg, and the rest ran down my inner thigh.
He grimaced at me, and I held up a finger, holding his reaction off. I
carried tissues in my purse, which I pulled out and used to dry my thigh, and
then I knelt next to him and mopped up the mess on his pants leg.
“Sorry, Boss.” I smirked at him as he used the tie to dry his still-hard
dick. “I could have licked that clean for you.”
“Oh, I bet you would have.” He chuckled and looked around the room.
“Don’t suppose you have a baggie for a soiled tie?”
Shaking my head, I stood, though I wished he would have let me suck
him clean. Fuck, that was amazing sex. “Can’t say that I do.” I tossed the
dirty tissues and handed him another to wipe his hand clean. He carefully
folded the messy part of the tie into yet another tissue and shoved it in his
jacket pocket before putting the jacket on.
“Until I admit that I have zero interest in you?” His question struck me as
odd, but I grinned and shrugged.
“Yeah. You tell me that this” —I swiped my finger in the air between the
two of us— “is going nowhere, that you have no interest in me, and I’ll back
off.”
“And if I tell you I like it?” He moved toward me, a magnetic attraction I
knew was undeniable.
“Then I’m yours, and we sort out the details later.” I tipped my chin up,
accepting a kiss.
“Dinner at my house Saturday night, then. We can talk details.”
I was falling in love with this man and I didn’t even know how to tell
him. I had never forgotten the way he made me feel when we were kids. And
now, I feared this was all just fun and games to him—NSA sex he’d later
shrug off as a passing fancy. I didn’t want to admit my fear, that he was only
playing me, so I kept my emotion to myself.
“Dinner sounds nice, and maybe we’ll do more than talk.”
After another peck, I let myself out. My body felt relaxed, but my mind
raced. I wasn’t sure what the next step was, but if it meant getting closer to
him in any way, I’d take it. I just hoped he didn’t try to tell me it was sex and
nothing more. Despite how amazing that would be, my heart couldn’t take
that.

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 CHAPTER ELEVEN

Derek

D UCKING UNDER A LOW - HANGING BRANCH , I guided the mare down the trail
in the woods. Curt’s horse followed behind mine, and both of them got
distracted by the mud and fresh green foliage emerging on the brush on either
side of the trail. Twice, I had to smack her ass to get her to stop trying to
graze and just walk the trail. Curt laughed as my hat got snagged in yet
another branch and the mare kept walking.
“Here,” he said, handing me the hat. He collected it from the tree after I
had cleared the low branch.
“Thanks. Damn horse thinks she can squeeze me off.” I chuckled and put
my hat back on, clicking my tongue to get the horse to move a bit faster. A
glance at my watch told me we needed to wrap up this trail ride because
Maggie was due to come by for dinner. Curt could not be here when that
happened.
“I needed this, being out in the fresh air. Thanks for having me over.
Sorry I sprang this on you. I just needed time out in nature.” Curt brought his
horse in step with mine, and I saw his downtrodden face. He was acting
weird, though I couldn’t place why. We weren’t as close as we used to be
back in the day, but he still told me when major things happened in his life.
For a moment, I got the sense that he was feeling me out, testing me.
Maybe I was just being paranoid since I was fucking his sister, which I knew
would piss him off, but it felt like he wasn’t telling me everything. Something
was bothering him more than just needing time outdoors.
“Yeah, no problem. I don’t mind. I needed to get these guys out on the
trails anyway. I’m hoping to do some trail riding lessons this summer for kids
who go to Camp Mac-O-Chee.”
Curt perked up when I mentioned the camp. We had gone there as teens,
and it brought up nostalgic feelings whenever we told stories from those
days. I was happy to try to give back to the place that had given me and Curt
so much, especially in the days following his mother’s death. That place had
been a godsend.
“Yeah? You’ll have to tell Margie I said hi.” As quickly as he perked up,
he wilted again. “You spoken to Maggie lately?”
My chest tightened. Here it was, the lecture. “I work with her. So yeah, I
spoke with her just yesterday.” I braced myself for him to tell me off or scold
me at the very least for having any sort of relationship with his sister, but
instead of shouting, he stared off toward the house, which was slowly coming
into view.
Branches clawed at us from both sides of the path, leaving briars in our
pants legs and making the horses want to crush our legs between their bodies.
Despite my best efforts to keep the mare headed straight, she pushed Curt’s
horse and they leaned into each other for position in the center of the path. I
let Curt pull ahead and wondered why he’d ask whether I’d talked to her. He
knew we worked together.
“You had an argument with her or something?” With his back to me, I
couldn’t see his expression.
“More like ‘or something’. She hasn’t spoken to me since the party at my
house. I asked her to come by and have dinner with Dad and me, but she told
Dad she had other plans tonight and never responded to me.”
I heard the disappointment in his voice and couldn’t bear to tell him that I
was the reason she wasn’t coming to his house.
Our horses cleared the edge of the woods and finally spread out, taking
up more space than necessary as their hooves sank into the soft lawn. I
glanced at my watch again. Maggie would be here in less than forty-five
minutes, and we still had to brush down the horses. So I nudged the mare
with the spur of my boot and brought her to a canter, Curt’s horse matching
pace.
“I’m sure she’s just busy. I’ll ask her if you want me to.” I caught myself
and added, “On Monday, I mean.”
 “Nah, I’m sure she’ll explain herself. I think she’s just pissed at me for
what I said to her at the party.” Curt bounced along on the back of the horse,
inexperienced at riding. I rose slightly in the stirrups to reduce the pounding
my ass would take.
“Yeah? What’s that?” My interest was piqued. Maggie hadn’t told me she
had discussed anything difficult with Curt, so getting this fresh take on what
had happened at that party—whether before or after our encounter—had me
curious.
He shrugged. “I just reminded her that you’re my friend and that we’d
agreed when y’all were kids that dating was a no-no.”
Axe to the fucking chest. I kept my facial expression calm, but I really
wanted to confess that we were doing things he would not approve of and
that we were adults who could make our own decisions. But there was still a
tiny part of me that was nervous about that confession.
“Yeah, and what did she say?”
“She ignored me, walked away. Later, she just left without telling me.”
Curt pulled back on the reins, slowing the horse and bringing it to a stop just
outside the corral entrance. I eased the mare to a stop too, dismounting before
she was fully halted.
“Well, just talk to her,” I told him, leading the mare toward the barn. We
didn’t talk much after that. We tied the horses off at their stall doors so they
could be brushed and removed their saddles and blankets.
Curt slunk around like a wounded puppy. I knew he and Maggie were
close, so I could see why he’d be upset, especially if he’d invited her for
dinner and she’d stood him up to be with me. The last thing I wanted to do
was to get between them, but Maggie was so damn tempting I couldn’t say no
to her, and here I was playing stupid when Curt was upset.
“Why don’t you head home to get ready for dinner? Maybe she will
surprise you and show up anyway. I can brush these ladies out.” I took the
brush from his hand which he had collected from somewhere. He shook his
head.
“She’s not coming, but whatever. Thanks for the ride. I appreciate the
time to talk. Let me know if you do talk to her. I didn’t mean to piss her off
or anything. I just made my position clear. I thought we were past this. You
know? We’re adults now.”
“Yeah, sure.” I waved at him as he retreated from the barn. The fact that
we were adults and she still had this same damn crush on me must have told
him something. I walked to the barn door and watched as he pulled out, his
truck kicking up a dirt cloud. Maybe it was a good thing that he’d had this
inkling that Maggie could still have feelings for me. It might make breaking
it to him easier if this actually developed into something.
I busied myself with brushing the mares and lost track of time. By the
time I had the second mare cleaned and in her stall with fresh water and feed
for both of them, I looked up and saw Maggie standing in the door to the
barn, smiling at me.
She was radiant, dressed in a dark green sweater and jeans. Her boots rose
to the knee, and the scarf around her neck framed her round face, bringing
out the color in her eyes. I could stand there and stare at her all day, drinking
in her beauty, but it was getting chilly as the early June evening drew on.
“Your brother is worried about you.” I shut the clasp on the mare’s stall
door and dusted my hands on my pants, then gestured for Maggie to follow
me.
“Yeah? What about?”
I led her to the tack room where I washed and dried my hands. She
hovered in the doorway, gazing at all the saddles and harnesses hanging
around the messy room.
“He thinks you’re pissed at him because he told you I was off limits.” I
tossed the towel into the sink and stalked toward her.
“Well, he’ll get over it. I wondered why he was here. He’s supposed to be
having dinner with Dad tonight.” As I approached, she wrapped her arms
around my neck. “I told them I had other plans.”
It felt comfortable wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning down to
kiss her, despite our having a mostly sex relationship at this point. Lunch
always felt too “office professional” to be considered dating, and we hadn’t
spent any time outside the office together other than at Curt’s party. I wasn’t
even sure what we were doing. What I had thought was just a one-time thing
turned into more than once. What I did know was now that I was certain Curt
was gone, I wanted Maggie.
“What were those plans?” I walked forward, forcing her to back up until
she was firmly pressed against a stall door.
“Dinner, I thought. Unless you want to skip to dessert.” She pulled me
down for a kiss, and I couldn’t help myself. Her lips tasted like fresh
strawberries. Her tongue was soft as it slid across mine. I grabbed a handful
of her ass, squeezing it firmly as I ground against her. When she came up for
air she said, “Dessert first, then . . .”
“I can’t seem to get enough of you.” I felt one of her hands tangle in my
hair while the other slid down my chest to my waistband. “You want this
here? In the barn?”
Maggie nodded, then pulled me down farther. She bit my earlobe before
whispering, “Fuck me like an animal, Derek.”
Chills went down the back of my neck, causing the hair on my arms to
stand up. Something visceral stirred in my groin, an untapped desire being
coaxed to life. I leaned in harder, nipping the top of her shoulder as I pulled
her leg up around my hips. My cock hardened as I ground against her again,
pinching her hand between our bodies.
“Like an animal, huh?” The primal urge to bend her over a bale of hay
and fuck her right there unhinged, and I pulled her shirt off over her head.
She laughed as she unbuckled my pants and loosed me, taking my dick in her
hand and stroking it.
“How would you like me, Boss?”

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 C H A P T E R T W E LV E

Maggie

D EREK ORDERED me to take the striped numnah off the stall door and drape it
over the bales of hay stacked along the barn wall. I was thankful for the
warmth of the June evening as my shirt dangled from Derek’s finger and I
was certain my pants would be next. I situated the sheepskin over the hay,
then leaned back against it.
“You like when I order you around?” Derek stalked toward me, hanging
my shirt on a hook next to some bridles. The mess of tangled reins looked
intriguing, and he caught me eyeing them. “Don’t worry. I won’t use the crop
on you, but the reins might come in handy if you don’t do as you’re told.”
His smirk was priceless.
“Is there a rule about being quiet here?” I asked him.
Derek shrugged out of his shirt, tossing it on the hay, then pulled his jeans
down a bit lower in front, stroking himself. I waited for his answer as I
slowly undid my pants. His eyes feasted on my partially bare body, drinking
me in.
“You can be as loud as you want here. Just show me your tits.”
I grinned as I unhooked my bra and pulled it off. I couldn’t reach the
hook where he’d hung my shirt, so I laid it on top of his next to me. The
evening breeze blew over my chest, causing my nipples to form hard peaks.
“Shit, I want to slide my dick right through here.” He drew a line down
my chest from sternum to navel, then back up, cupping a breast and pushing
his thumb across my nipple. The touch was electrifying and slightly painful.
My boobs were achy, like the day before my period, but fuck, were they
sensitive too. I sucked in a breath as he flicked his tongue over my other
nipple then bit it gently.
I wanted to resist his advances on me, but he was so eager, and the
precum beading on his cock already told me exactly how eager he was. So I
shimmied out of my jeans and let them fall around my ankles along with my
panties. My shoes slipped off easily, but Derek had to peel my jeans off my
ankles. He bent low to do it, pulling one leg, then the other free, and nearly
losing my balance, I sat down on the numnah so I didn’t fall.
It just so happened, this put me at the perfect height for him to drop to his
knees, his fingers searching between my thighs for the moisture he’d created.
Scooting back on the hay, I spread my legs, and he put a hand on each of
my thighs, pushing them wider. I braced myself on the hay behind me,
leaning back on both arms, and Derek’s eyes flicked to my face as he used
his thumbs to pull my lips apart.
“God, that’s so wet.” He smeared his finger through the puddle then up
over my clit, swirling in the mess and teasing me. “You like when I touch
your pussy?” He knelt there smirking at me, his thumb pressing my clit like a
goddamn easy button.
“Fuck, yes. Touch my pussy.” Soft whimpers of pleasure turned to low
moans when he pushed his thumb into me, then drew it back out.
“You want me to lick this pussy? Suck you clean and make you wetter?”
His thumb pushed into me again, along with the thumb from his other hand.
He gently stretched me, then pushed one thumb in farther while the other slid
up my slit to my clit again. “You want to feel my tongue do this?”
My body tensed, an insatiable arousal swelling inside me. I bit my lip and
nodded, certain that if I spoke, my voice would crack. The ache growing in
my groin with every stroke of his thumb over my clit was excruciating. If he
didn’t just eat me, I was going to grab his head and force him.
“Say it.” The glint of mischief in his eyes was matched with a raised
cheek. I whined when he pulled his thumb out of me to stroke himself.
“Come on, Mags. Be a good girl and tell me how bad you want me to eat
you.” His thumb continued to draw circles around my clit, and I continued to
feel lip-locked.
“I . . .” My voice was gone, stolen by the lust-induced brain fog that
imprisoned my eyes. I watched his tongue trace over his bottom lip. His hand
slid up and down his shaft. His thumb smeared the wetness from between my
lips up and over my shaven mound, then back down, only to plunge into me
and return.
“Say it, Mags. Tell me to eat you. Tell me you’re a good girl and you
deserve to feel good.” His voice sounded gravelly, like the throaty growl of a
large predator hunting, reaching up through my pussy and pulling my chest
downward, weighting me. I reached for his head, grabbing a handful of hair
and pulling him closer, but he resisted. “Nah-ah . . . Say it now. Tell me to eat
you. Beg like the good girl you are.”
I snapped. I knew the instant his tongue hit my skin I was going to come
all over his face. I didn’t even waste time clearing my throat.
“God, just fucking eat me, Derek.”
He grinned. “Say it again. Beg me.” He leaned in, pushing his thumb into
me again as his tongue took its spot on my clit.
“Holy fuck . . .” I closed my eyes, letting the sensation of his tongue on
me send waves of arousal through my entire body. “That’s it . . . lick it.” My
hand smoothed over his hair and across his shoulders, nails digging into his
flesh before returning back to grab his hair. “Suck my clit. Please, just eat
me.”
The more I encouraged him, the more voracious his appetite. He sucked
and licked, squeezing his fingers into me and penetrating as deep as he could.
He found a spot that felt glorious so I encouraged him more.
“Right there . . . yeah. That’s it. God, eat me.” My pussy clenched around
him like a screw being tightened up. Any second, my body would spill over.
“Please . . . oh, fuck . . . please.”
Derek’s tongue was magic, searching my soft folds and at times pushing
into me, alternating with his thumb on my clit until my body just broke. I
shouted so loudly it sent birds flying out of the barn rafters, beating their
wings in their haste to escape. My body juddered, and I heard him growling
out his enjoyment. Sex tremors shook my legs. I couldn’t control them. What
he did to me was unholy, and I wanted more.
I writhed on that hay bale, clawing at his head and shoulders, barely able
to prop myself up as the convulsions of ecstasy peaked then waned. And
when my body relaxed and I collapsed backward, he lapped at me, cleaning
the mess and enjoying himself. I let the hormones rage through every cell in
my being, the weight of relaxation sinking through me until I was one with
the sheepskin beneath me.
 Head laid back and eyes closed, I felt him prodding at my pussy, hungry
for more. I smiled, leaving my eyes shut. “Fuck, where did you learn to do
that?”
His hands lifted my legs, gripping them behind the knee. He practically
folded me in half, forcing my legs upward as he slid his dick through my
cum. “I didn’t learn that until just now. Why? You liked it?”
Opening my eyes, I noticed his pants had been pushed down, now only
barely visible below the corner of the hay bale. His cock, moist with my
wetness and rock hard, stood proud. He pushed it against me, thrusting his
hips as he spread more wetness across himself. Watching his precum mix
with mine made my throat catch. What I wouldn’t do to taste that on him. But
he had other ideas.
“Fuck, you’re hot.” Despite being nearly suffocated by the way he held
my knees to my chest, I reached down, gripping his cock and lining it up to
my pussy.
“Ah-ah . . . here.” He pried my hand off his dick and forced me to hold
my own right knee up. Then he took hold of himself, pushing into me only
slightly. “God, I want to do this . . .”
“Do what?” I craned my neck, trying to watch what he was doing, but the
minute he slid over my ass, I didn’t have to see anymore. I sucked in a breath
as he forced himself into me, stretching my ass. “Fuck,” I cried out, pulling
my knee down against my chest harder. He was fucking huge, so huge it
almost tore me in two. It was painful for the first few seconds, but when he
found his rhythm, I found myself ready for more.
The grunts and growls that came from his chest matched my loud moans
of pleasure as he slid in and out of me. I tried to reach my clit again, but he
positioned my hand on my other knee, so I was forced to hold both of my
legs up while he fucked me.
Derek had a thumb on my clit and another pushed into my pussy as he
continued pushing his cock deeper and deeper. My body was already so
spent, but somehow, he managed to bring me back to the point of orgasm
again. I was louder the second time than the first, and once it started, there
was no stopping it. Not even when he took his thumb from my clit and leaned
down to pull me harder against his hips as he thrust. His hand gripped my
shoulder, and I looked up in time to see his jaw drop as the tiny gasps of
pleasure escaped him.
I couldn’t feel the release, other than his dick pulsing through my
opening, but I could tell he felt amazing. His knees bent slightly, and rather
than pulling my shoulder toward him, he braced himself, pinning me down.
My body continued to contract around him as he regained his balance and
hovered with his eyes shut. The rhythmic pulses of muscular contractions
made me twitch, clenching and relaxing until he pulled out.
“Shit . . .” He flopped down onto the hay next to me, halfway on the
numnah and half on the scratchy hay. Both of us were peppered with beads of
sweat, though his forehead and upper lip were worse than mine. I didn’t want
to move a muscle. The giddiness of post-sexual-encounter bliss felt like a
warm blanket on a cold day after a hot meal.
I had no clue how long we lay there, but when he jostled me, I stirred like
I had dozed off. After rubbing my eyes, I gazed up at him, propped on one
elbow looking down at me with a grin. His deep brown pools lured me in. I
almost wanted to snuggle up to him, but we hadn’t yet defined what this was.
So I restrained myself and just sat up, moving away from him.
“You keep fucking me like that and we’re going to have a problem.” I
walked away from him, finding my articles of clothing one at a time and
dressing.
Derek hefted himself off the hay and yanked his pants up, carefully
tucking his package away beneath the denim and zipper. He could have
stayed nude the rest of the evening and I’d have enjoyed that even more, but I
had come for dinner, not just sex.
“How would great sex and incredible orgasms be a bad thing?” He
smirked at me as he shook out his shirt and handed me my bra.
I couldn’t begin to tell him why it would be bad, but I had a million
reasons. He hadn’t discussed a relationship, so I wasn’t confident he even
wanted one. I knew he liked sex with me, but he kept me at arm’s length in
every other way. His “professional” act was not really an act. He had
perfected the art of making me feel like I was in the permanent friendzone.
Yet, here I was developing feelings for him. Feelings which I had to
censor and not act on when we were done having sex. Feelings I had to turn
away from him just to mask as I put my bra and shirt back on.
“What’s for dinner?” Changing the subject was the only way to get out of
that uncomfortable question. He wasn’t ready for my real answers, and I
wasn’t about to lie to him. Lying was the one thing I’d never do. At least, not
unless I was forced to.
“I have a lasagna in the oven and some garlic bread to bake before we
eat.” He started toward the barn door as I slid my shoes on. I thought he’d at
least kiss me, or maybe hold my hand, but then realized that he hadn’t even
attempted it. My heart sank a little, but I followed after him, a slight jog-walk
to my gait. The disappointment couldn’t ruin the rest of my evening, so I
tried to push it away.
“That sounds delicious.” Catching up to him, I kept my distance. He
hadn’t initiated any sort of physical contact with me that might indicate he
wanted it, and I didn’t want him to think I was getting mixed signals.
“You sound delicious . . . and you were. And you will be—for dessert.”
I chuckled at his cheekiness, insinuating we’d have sex again after dinner.
But I couldn’t help feeling a bit down. So I stayed just a step ahead of him so
he couldn’t see my face. My heart was totally in love with this asshole and he
didn’t seem to see it. I was so much more than just a quick fuck. I wanted
him to know, but I didn’t know how to tell him. Part of me thought I should
just blurt it out, let the chips fall where they may. Part of me felt like a subtler
approach might work better. I just had to figure out what and when. How did
I tell him I loved him without scaring him off?

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Derek

M AGGIE ’ S OFFICE sat empty all day, her appointments rescheduled, but she
hadn’t told me why she wasn’t in. Even when I shot her a text asking if
everything was okay, she hadn’t responded. So I went about my day as
normal, but in the back of my mind, I did worry a bit. As I settled behind my
desk to finish a few transcriptions from earlier appointments, Barbra knocked
on the open door and leaned on the door jamb. The patients were gone for the
day, and it was just me, Barbra, and Gypsy.
“Hey . . .” She sounded glum, not the typical tone for her. My eyes
popped up to take her in.
“What’s up?” I shuffled papers on my desk as I asked, clearing a space to
work. I’d been so distracted and preoccupied with Maggie on my mind for
weeks that my office had become a bit messy.
“Have you heard from Magnolia?” Barbra rested her head on the door
jamb, sulking. She had brought in some delicious chocolate cake, and it had
vanished quickly, not even a slice left for Maggie to try. I thought it was
sweet how the woman refused to use Maggie’s nickname, preferring her
given name to be more professional.
“No, I thought she called in?” Beginning to be more concerned than I had
all day, I pushed the papers aside and reached for my phone. Still no text or
missed call.
“She did. I mean, she left a voicemail saying she wouldn’t be in, but she
didn’t say exactly why. I assumed maybe she was ill. Your being the boss, I
thought maybe you’d have known more.” Barbra shrugged and scrunched her
face up. “Sorry.”
I shook my head. “You’re HR. If she was going to call in, it would be to
you. I’ve tried to call and text, but I haven’t gotten a response. I’m sure she’s
just ill.”
Trying to brush it off like it was nothing, I dismissed Barbra from the
office and focused on my transcriptions. But halfway through the first one,
when I heard the office door click shut after Gypsy left, I found myself
unable to concentrate. It wasn’t like Maggie to ignore me, so she must have
been really sick. I’d ask Curt if he heard from her, but I didn’t want to stir the
pot there or make him worry too.
I headed out, determined that if she did not answer my texts or show up to
work tomorrow, I would call her brother and let him know. At least Curt
knew where she lived. I kicked myself for not having even taken time to get
to know her. And now that Barbra’s office and computer were locked, I had
no way of looking in Maggie’s personnel file to get her address either.
I pulled into the driveway, noticing Peter’s car parked by the barn, and
growled my frustration. I had forgotten he was coming, and it was the last
thing I wanted to deal with tonight. Rather than parking by the house, I pulled
out to the barn and parked there. Peter appeared in the doorway to the barn
and watched me climb out of my car. He barely waited for me to shut my car
door before he started in.
“You’re late. You told me to be here at seven p.m.” His scowl met mine,
but I refused to back down. I hadn’t told him anything. I had merely agreed to
what he suggested, and honestly, I had hoped he had forgotten.
I walked past him and he followed me. I wasn’t dressed for this, wearing
Dockers and Sperrys—not exactly farm attire. Peter had on a pair of boots
and some jeans that had paint splattered on them. I was honestly surprised by
this because Peter wasn’t the type to get his hands dirty. But if he came
prepared to work, I’d put him to work.
We strolled to the tack room, where some noises emanating from within
told me Hammer was working on sorting out the mess like I told him I’d like
him to do. As I stepped into the doorway and noticed the clear path through
the chaos to the lone toe-headed man kneeling on the floor next to a pile of
bridles, Peter nearly rammed me. I felt his breath on the back of my neck
briefly before he nudged me aside.
 “Hammer, this is Pete, my brother. Pete, this is Evan Miller. We call him
Hammer because he is an ace farrier.” Peter looked at me with an odd
expression but shook hands with Hammer anyway.
“Nice to meet you, Pete.” Evan grabbed a handful of bridles off the
ground and walked toward an empty hook on the wall. “About done cleaning
up in here, Derek. Sorry it got so messy . . . Oh, and Mitsy is getting close to
foaling. I noticed she seems to favor her right hip. I think we should let the
vet know to be on standby.” He turned to face me after he hung the bridles.
“Foaling?” Peter glanced at me, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“The mare is going to give birth soon. Hammer, you’ll have to excuse
Pete. You’ll need to teach him a lot of things. I just agreed to let him help you
out around here for a bit of extra cash.”
Peter scowled at my remark, and Evan nodded. “Sure thing. I don’t mind.
We need to muck the stalls and put out fresh hay tonight, so it will be great to
have some help.”
“Good, I’ll just show him where to get the pitchforks.”
I headed off toward the shed and Peter followed on my heels. The night
was chillier than what was seasonal, and I wished I’d have brought a jacket to
work. I didn’t intend to stand in the barn mucking stalls in these expensive
shoes, but I had to at least get Peter started.
“You know, it’s embarrassing enough that I have to come to my brother
to ask for help when I need some money. You don’t have to tell other
people.” I could hear the anger in his voice, and I bit my tongue. I didn’t want
to argue again.
When we reached the shed, I realized the padlock was shut, and the key
was hanging on the hook inside the back door of the house. Frustrated, I
slammed my fist into the door and reeled around on my heel to head back up
to the house. Peter, standing directly in my path, startled and sidestepped out
of my way. He glared at me and raised his hands.
“Watch it. What the hell is your problem?”
“Me?” I snapped. “What’s my problem?” I gave him a light push and
continued toward the house. “What’s your problem? You come over to work
for me then complain. You can’t be grateful for anything. You have always
been like this.”
He stutter-stepped to catch up and stomped along beside me with his fists
clenched. “Well, Mom wouldn’t have made me work just to make some
money. I have a car payment due. She’d have just helped me.”
 “Well, I’m not Mom. And I’m not going to just let you have a free ride on
my dime.”
“Free ride? Is that what you think of me? You have millions of dollars
sitting in a fucking bank account untouched, and you can’t just help me out? I
have to roll in horse shit just to be able to pay my bills?”
I couldn’t believe his entitled attitude. I ignored his comment as I headed
for the house. But something wasn’t sitting right in my gut. It was the same
thing that ate away at my last nerve every time we had this argument. Peter
carried on like he needed Mom’s money so fucking bad, when all I wanted
was my mother back. I’d bankrupt myself tenfold just to have her.
“I’m just saying, you should help your brother.”
I couldn’t ignore his comment any longer. I whipped around and gave
him a hard shove, sending him backward until he slammed into the side of
the barn. “You want help? Why the fuck didn’t you help me, then?”
He looked shocked, bracing himself so he didn’t fall. “Help you when?”
“When I tried to get Mom to use her millions to get treatment for the very
treatable condition she had that led to her death. Huh? Why couldn’t you
think of anything other than yourself while I was trying to save her life?”
My gut tightened. I tightened my hands into fists and realized smashing
my brother’s face in was not a productive method for dealing with my anger,
so I walked away. He wasn’t worth the energy it would take. I climbed in my
car and drove up to the house, forgetting entirely about the key for the shed.
Hammer knew where it was. He could deal with Peter.
It didn’t matter that I had put space between myself and Peter. The rage
he stirred up hovered over me like a dark cloud. I paced the kitchen, then sent
Evan a message letting him know where I was and to instruct Peter on what
to do. After peeking out the back window and seeing them both with
pitchfork in hand, I knew Evan had already had the keys and my trip to the
house would have been in vain anyway. At least Peter was occupied now.
With that off my mind, I thought I’d feel better, but the damage was done.
I was stir crazy. My thoughts wandered to Maggie and why she hadn’t
responded to me all day. I started to obsess about her reasoning, which led
me to get angry again and stew. Before I knew it, I was dialing her number.
The minute she picked up, I jumped down her throat.
“Hey . . . sorry I—”
“Why haven’t you returned any of my calls or messages? I’ve been
calling all day. You didn’t even tell Barb why you weren’t at work.” She
squeaked out an answer but I talked over her. “I’m really upset. We need to
talk. Peter is at it again, and I’m going to literally punch him in the face.”
“Whoa, calm down.”
“I don’t want to calm down.” My pacing became frenzied. I raked a hand
through my hair. “I need to talk to you. I’m going to come over. Okay? Send
me your address.”
I didn’t even wait for her to respond or send the address. I just hopped in
my car and peeled out. As frustrated as I was, this conversation should be had
in person, not over the phone. If she didn’t respond to me now, I wasn’t sure
what to do.

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 CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Maggie

T HE MINUTE I hit Send on that text message, I rushed around my house

cleaning up. I wasn’t a slovenly person by any means, but Derek had never
been to my place. I wanted his first impression to be that my home was
somewhere he could be comfortable. So I tossed all the dishes in the
dishwasher—not properly, mind you. They just got stacked and jumbled in
there so they weren’t on the counter anymore.
The throw pillows needed to be fluffed and straightened. I’d left three
pairs of shoes by the front door, and there were girly magazines strewn about
on various pieces of furniture. I had no more than dropped my shoes in my
closet and pulled the covers up over my unmade bed than the doorbell rang.
Derek was haggard looking. I could tell it had been a rough day for him.
I’d spent the better part of the morning hovering over the toilet throwing up
my eggs and sausage myself, so I could sympathize. But his dark circles and
disheveled hair didn’t appear to be from feeling ill. Given what he’d spewed
at me about Peter on the brief phone call, I doubted he came over to ask me
to check his temperature.
“Are you okay?” I shut the door softly behind him as he started pacing.
He was pretty worked up so I just gave him space. I understood that this
wasn’t a booty call, so my thoughts were only on calming him down and
helping him in whatever way I could. My heart went out to him.
“I’m really fucking pissed off.” He rubbed his forehead as he paced. If he
did it very long at all, he’d have raw skin and I’d have threadbare carpet. I
nervously chewed on my lip, waiting for his explosion. I hadn’t responded to
him because I was genuinely ill, and I didn’t feel like I had to explain myself
to anyone. I had done my duty by calling in to tell Barbra I wouldn’t be at
work.
But this fury didn’t strike me as being directed at me. He may have lashed
out over the phone, but I could see how tense his shoulders were. This was all
about Peter, and if it was about Peter, it was also about his mother.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I tried touching his arm, but he walked to
a new stretch of carpet in front of the television and started pacing there. I
would not be deterred, however. I followed him, parking myself in his direct
path so when he turned, he was forced to stop and look me in the eye. “Do
you need to talk about this?”
I expected him to shrug me off or tell me he was fine again. I even
thought maybe he’d just walk around me and keep pacing. I wasn’t prepared
for the fury he unleashed on me over the stupidest thing. Derek’s eyes bulged
the way my father’s had when I told him I scratched his new Mercedes. His
face turned a shade of red that looked unnatural.
“Why the hell can’t you return a call? I texted you all day. I even sent a
fucking email. You had me worried sick. Even Barb was upset you didn’t
come in. She baked a chocolate cake and—”
I grabbed the sides of his jaw and pulled him down, covering his lips with
mine. He didn’t kiss me back at first. He was rigid, bordering on resistant.
But I pushed my tongue against his bottom lip, opening his mouth to sneak
inside, and felt the slightest bit of encouragement. So I pressed on, my fingers
crawling around to the back of his neck so I could relax off my tiptoes and
continue kissing him.
I felt his hands rest on my hips, his greedy fingers pulling me closer to his
body. His kisses grew fervent, like I was the fix he needed to make
everything right in his world again. I wanted to make his world right again. I
wanted to be his world.
Derek leaned into me, backing me away from the TV and toward the
couch. His hands firmly gripped my hips, squeezing my love handles and
directing me where to go. And when the backs of my legs hit the couch, he
gave me a gentle push and I fell back to a sitting position. For a tense
moment, I stared up at him. He stood there with a scowl, saying nothing. I
didn’t know whether he was angry or if the look in his eyes was desire until
he reached for the button of his jeans.
Maybe this was a booty call.
The way he seductively unzipped the fly of his jeans and extracted his
dick had me licking my lips. I hadn’t intended this to happen, but I was not
shying away from it. There was something strangely erotic about an angry
man unleashing his rage in a sexual release. He didn’t even have to ask. I
leaned forward, taking his cock in my hand and stroking him. His gaze
washed over my face, landing on my lips, and I gladly took him in.
Careful not to nip him with my teeth, I whirled my tongue around his
head. He leaned forward and placed his hands on the wall above me. He
grunted softly as I let him slide deep into my throat and worked his pants
down at the same time. I knew it was helping him relax. I could hear the
stress escaping his body through soft, guttural breaths.
His hand smoothing down the back of my head, guiding me to take him
deeper as I sucked and stroked him, was encouraging, but I withdrew,
holding his cock with my lips, and looked up at him. Derek smirked and
pushed me back, pulling himself free from my grip. Then, sliding his hand
between my legs, he pushed my sweatpants against my clit. I could feel the
moisture from my pussy soaking into them. He said nothing, just pressed the
fabric into my clit, rubbing me.
I let out a gasp of pleasure, thankful that he was starting to calm. “I want
you in me,” I whispered to Derek as his fingers grabbed the top of my pants
and hauled them down.
I kicked my foot and shook them free as his fingers penetrated me. He
leaned down and kissed me, fondling my breasts, until I felt his dick. I wasn’t
expecting that the moment his fingers withdrew, his dick would be in their
place. I was so wet he slid all the way in and slammed against me.
Derek knelt between my knees and pulled my hips toward him. I felt a
tinge of pain as his cock pressed hard against my back wall. He grunted
again, and all I could do was lie there as he pounded me, over and over, like a
toy. I wasn’t complaining, but I’d never been fucked so hard in all my life.
His eyes were fixed on my tits as they bounced, but my attention was
centered on what was happening inside my pussy.
I could feel the pleasure inside me building, enhanced by the hunched
position I was already in. He lifted my shirt, freeing my breasts and taking
one in his mouth and running his tongue over my nipple. Each flick of his
tongue sent shockwaves up my spine. I didn’t know what to think or what to
do. He kept going as hard as he could, the sound of flesh on flesh clapping as
he didn’t let up.
I curled my toes and grabbed a fistful of his hair with one hand and the
couch with the other as my coil snapped. “Oh shit, oh shit!” I muttered,
holding my breath as he continued to thrust into me. He didn’t let up, I
rubbed my clit, trying to carry my orgasm through to the next wave of
pleasure. He was an animal, vicious and unrelenting.
I felt delirious and overstimulated as he kept going until I felt it. He
pushed into me hard and stopped. He quivered as his warm seed erupted
inside me. He thrust in short successions a few more times, then his arms
gave out and he fell on top of me, panting like the beast he was. All I could
do was place my hand around him and lie there with him still in me, and the
mess we made was leaking out onto the cushions.
There was no talking, no sexy banter. Only his fury being unleashed on
me, and I was happy to take it. He lay across me, head on my shoulder, dick
buried inside my pussy, for several minutes. I embraced him, feeling our
hearts pounding and calming together. I wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but
I was feeling a strong connection to him. He’d come in so upset and out of
sorts. It had been my pleasure to help him relax and focus on something else.
I knew firsthand the pain of watching your mother die. There was nothing
I nor anyone else could do about it. Mom had suffered so badly at the end,
which had traumatized both me and Curt. I imagined it had done the same for
Derek and his brother, Peter, to watch their mother die so suddenly too. At
least my mother’s death was drawn out enough that we knew it was coming
and got to say our goodbyes. Derek’s mother had died suddenly—a heart
attack brought on by thyroid disease.
“Derek, I know you get so frustrated with Peter, and you have every right
to feel that way.” He didn’t move as I smoothed my hand across his back.
The cum puddling between our bodies and on the couch beneath me was
starting to make me cold. “Peter just got affected in a different way, okay?
You’re such a good brother for helping him and caring about him. I’m sorry
he makes you so frustrated.”
Derek pulled out, hovering for a moment on his knees as he grimaced at
the mess. “Sorry.” He stood, pulling his jeans and boxers back up, and
walked to the kitchen, snagging a hand towel and drying himself before
tossing it to me. He didn’t say much more, but he did sit down next to me.
Dressed in only my T-shirt and the panties I found randomly lying on the
coffee table—so that’s where they went—I curled up next to him. I tucked
my shoulder up under his armpit and rested my head on his arm, splaying my
hand across his chest. He didn’t shy away, really, but he stiffened. At first, I
felt like it was an odd reaction, but we hadn’t done anything emotionally
intimate with each other, so this was a first. It didn’t bother me that he acted
that way. I just scooted closer.
“I’ll be your safe place any time you need to unload, alright?”
“What do you mean?” Derek pulled away slightly and looked down at
me. I froze. Had I said something wrong?
“I mean, you came here to vent, right? So I’m here to listen. It’s what you
do when you care about someone.”
He bolted off the couch like I was the lava monster and he was the ten-
year-old boy escaping from death. Shocked, I felt suddenly exposed. I tugged
at the hem of my T-shirt and tried to cover myself more. It appeared I had
upset him again.
“Mags, this is just sex. That’s all this is. Sex and friendship. I have a
strong no-dating policy for coworkers. You know that.” He ran a hand
through his hair. I stared at him, feeling really hurt. I had never once thought
it was just sex and friendship. My heart was tearing right down the middle,
and all I wanted him to do was make it stop.
But I smiled.
“I know.” I shrugged it away, blinking back the tears so he wouldn’t see
them. “I just meant, friends care for each other. Right? And we go way
back.” I refused to let him see me cry. If he cared so little about my heart and
how this “sex and friendship” might be toying with my emotions, then he
didn’t deserve to see me be vulnerable. “If you need to talk, I’m here. That’s
why you came over, right?”
He scowled as if, yet again, I’d said the wrong thing. “I don’t know why I
came over. I need to go.”
My jaw dropped as he reeled around and stomped out the door, leaving
me in a whirlwind of emotion. This time, I didn’t hold the tears back. I didn’t
want just sex and friendship. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I wanted more
than he did.
That much was true.

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 CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Derek

A FTER A VERY FRUSTRATING day at work, I came home to yet another

argument with Peter. He’d spent the majority of his “work time” bickering
with me about how much I was paying him and that it was “slave wages”. I’d
inevitably given up on him, turning him over to Hammer to finish up the
chores, and I came in the house to cool off.
I sat sipping a beer, watching out the large sliding glass door toward the
pasture where my mare tended to her new foal. That had been an eventful
night too, which Peter had been mysteriously unavailable for. Evan, the vet,
and I had handled everything, and mom and baby were doing great. I,
however, was not doing great. The beer coaxed some of my troubles away,
but my growing frustration with Peter and the recent lack of communication
from Maggie hadn’t been easy to handle.
The last drops of beer went down, and I knew another wouldn’t help
much more than the first one, so I opted for something different. If I couldn’t
get through to Peter, maybe my father could. I hadn’t spoken to him in
months, so today was about as good a day as any. I pulled my phone out and
called him, half-expecting him not to answer. When he did, he at least
sounded pleased to hear from me.
“Derek, it’s been so long. How have you been?”
My father was a kind man, unnaturally kind at that. My beef with him had
never been because he was an abusive or unloving parent. On the contrary, he
was an excellent father to both me and Peter. His patience and compassion
were what drove me to become a doctor. He taught me to put others first and
care about them. It was just his failure to follow through by caring more
about my mother than she did about herself that hurt me.
“I’m okay, Dad.”
“I’m so glad you called. I’ve thought of you often. Did you get the letters
I sent? The ones from Aunt Becky?”
I had, and I had tossed them in a drawer full of memories I’d rather not
think about a long time ago.
“Yeah, I did, Dad.” Getting him on topic was a must, or he would eat up
my whole day with trying to convert me back to Christianity—specifically,
his version of it. “Listen, I called to talk about Peter.”
“Oh.” His voice fell flat, and I knew he did not want to talk about the
subject at hand before he even continued. “You know, I’ve washed my hands
of that. Derek, your brother just needs the Lord.”
I rolled my eyes. “The way Mom needed the Lord?” Bitterness was a
black cloud shrouding my life. “Dad, I need your help being real about this
situation.” I remembered what Maggie had said to me about our mother and
how Peter was still suffering. “He is struggling to cope with losing her. He is
floundering. I can’t keep supporting him.”
“Your mother made her own choices, Derek. Peter is making his. You
will make yours.” I heard some pots and pans clanging together in the
background and then I heard him clear his throat. “Why don’t you visit
church on Sunday? We can go for dinner afterward.”
“Will you listen to me then? That Peter needs help? That he needs his
father to tell him to grow up and get a job and stop mooching off me?” Angry
didn’t begin to explain what I was feeling. He always did this, preach instead
of offering helpful solutions.
“The Bible says—”
“The Bible is wrong, Dad. You told me the Bible said God would heal
Mom, and it was wrong. You were wrong. She is dead, and I’m dealing with
the fallout. Peter is dealing with the fallout. You are ignoring the fallout
because you have some blessed hope that you’ll see her again one day.
Meanwhile, we are hurting, and all you can do is spew more rhetoric about a
thousand-year-old book and a made-up man in the sky.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, wishing I had kept my mouth shut or not
even called him. I was angry, and I had every right to be.
 “Derek, your mother believed that God would heal her or accept her into
his arms. I was not in any position to change her mind. She did what she felt
was right.”
“I gotta go, Dad. I’m not coming to church. Please talk to Pete.”
Hanging up was easier than dialing his number. I knew it would be. It
always was. All the years of being forced to go to services and listen to men
teach on morals that humans should just inherently possess had been a waste,
and so was calling my father. The expanse of lawn between myself and the
barn where I watched Peter and Evan appear and disappear was not nearly
large enough. I wanted to put more distance between us. I wanted to stop
being the parent and for once just forget that our life had been interrupted in a
tragic way.
Mom was gone. She left us through her own choice. She wouldn’t be
there when I got married or when I had children. And it made me furious that
even though it made no logical sense, she held fast to her belief that she
would somehow miraculously recover without medical intervention. Even to
this day, my father still believed and taught others the same thing.
Without even thinking, I swiped to my contacts and pressed Maggie’s
name. She had been the only one to even remotely understand what I was
feeling and why Peter’s sudden return to my life in such an invasive way
might be causing me so much turmoil. She hadn’t interacted with me at the
office much, but she hadn’t seemed to be in a bad mood. I chalked it up to her
just needing some space.
But when the phone call rang through to voicemail, I felt a little angry
with myself for having told her it was just sex and friendship. I was starting
to realize that some of my issues stemmed from Mom’s decision to choose
herself over everyone else. She thought she was choosing a better life for us
by offering us the wealth of her parents that she had laid up for us. I’d have
given it all back just to have her here, but she chose her faith.
That didn’t sit right with me. And part of me was very conscious of the
fact that Maggie could do the same. She could decide one day to withdraw
and choose herself and walk away, and I wasn’t prepared to deal with that
pain. I built a wall up to keep that pain out, and it was about a mile high and
impenetrable. Maggie had chipped away at the mortar, but the bricks were
stacked, and I was the idiot repairing the wall she was trying to take down.
The problem was, I wanted her to bulldoze the fucking thing, but I’d told
her under no uncertain terms to stay in her own lane. I shot myself in the foot.
So, how could I undo that now?

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 CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Maggie

A LEX Y OUNG , Gypsy’s current crush who worked in the phlebotomy lab, was
hilarious. We sat eating lunch together, just the three of us, and his natural
humor and wit had us cracking up. Gypsy had invited him to eat with us after
seeing him in line at our usual lunch spot—the little bistro inside the hospital.
“So, Alex, do you enjoy working in phlebotomy?” I took a huge bite from
my cinnamon roll, licking the icing that clung to my lips. Alex tossed his
blond waves and shrugged as he finished chewing a bite of his panini. Gypsy
was all smiles. I could tell she really found him attractive. She hadn’t stopped
grinning since he accepted our invitation to eat with us.
“I mean, the vampire jokes get old.” Gypsy laughed a little harder at his
response than she should have, but I had to give him credit. It was a good
line. “But yeah. I got into it when I was in nursing school. I found out that
something crazy like seventy percent of nurses have a difficult time drawing
blood, finding the vein . . . you know, phlebotomy. And I get paid more than
an RN to do this, so it was a no-brainer.”
Gypsy wiped her mouth like she was going to speak but looked back at
her plate of French fries in silence. She seemed more shy than normal, which
was odd for her because she was always very outgoing. Alex was a really
sweet guy, so I continued the conversation for her.
“Dracula didn’t use needles, though, so he was clearly more talented than
you. Imagine being given only teeth to do your job.” I snickered and wiped
my mouth clean, then sipped my soda.
“Dracula has nothing on me. I once had to give a newborn an IV directly
into the scalp. Got it in one try. You know how tiny their veins are? It’s like
threading a needle.”
“Impressive.” I raised my eyebrows at Gypsy and kicked her under the
table. Her face snapped up to meet my gaze and she grimaced.
“Yeah, impressive.” She looked nervous, and I rolled my eyes at her.
“I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.” She stood and darted
away, carrying her tray of food with her. Alex and I watched her stop at the
trash and clear her tray before she vanished into the concourse and
disappeared.
“Sorry about that. She’s normally really outgoing. I think she likes you.” I
winked at Alex, who chuckled.
“I can tell.” He grinned at me, his eyes sparkling. “What about you? What
do you do here?”
Lord help the woman who actually got the full fury of that smile turned
on her when she wasn’t expecting it because Alex Young was exceptionally
handsome. I batted my eyelashes at him, knowing full well that my heart was
spoken for and his charm was better spent elsewhere.
“I’m a nutritionist. I work with Dr. Holt and Gypsy.”
And speak of the devil, just as I said his name, Derek appeared, carrying a
tray of food in our direction.
“A nutritionist and you eat cinnamon rolls for lunch?” Alex laughed, and
it made me laugh too. It was a bit strange that I, of all people, knowing my
own health conditions, would choose such an unhealthy confection as a meal.
“You got me.” I took a small bite and watched Derek approaching. We
sat together at lunch a lot, though the past few weeks had been interrupted by
meetings and a work trip he went on. I’d been feeling ill, so that took up a
few days. The other days, we had been surrounded by the rest of the office
staff and kept our conversations pretty casual.
Since Derek had made it very clear to me that he wanted only sex and
friendship, I had put a bit of distance between us. That distance hadn’t
seemed to bother him. He hadn’t even called me, except once when I missed
his call because I was showering, and he didn’t leave a message then.
“So, are you seeing someone?”
I hardly heard Alex’s remark because Derek stared me down. But it
registered slowly, and I replied: “Uh . . . yeah. I mean, maybe. I don’t know.”
 “So you don’t know if you’re seeing someone? I wasn’t asking if you
were hallucinating.” Alex snickered, and I turned to look at him, peeling my
eyes away from Derek.
“Uh, no. I’m not seeing anyone.” I made sure to make my voice loud
enough that Derek, now only a few strides away, could hear me. I wasn’t in
the business of making men jealous just so they would want me, but I wasn’t
above it. Besides, if he really wanted only sex and friendship, then I wasn’t
seeing him, and I was a free woman to do whatever I wanted.
I was just never doing that with Alex.
Derek turned away, a flash of frustration on his face. He sat at a nearby
table, close enough to annoy me but not close enough to hear our
conversation anymore. I lost my appetite, and for the first time in days it
wasn’t because I felt ill. I had to swallow back a bitter thought that wanted to
march off the tip of my tongue, and instead I rose, collecting my trash.
“It was really nice getting to know you a bit, Alex. I’m not sure whether
Gypsy will be back today, but you are welcome to sit with us every day if
you’d like.”
I got the distinct feeling that Alex was sad to see me go. He frowned and
nodded but said nothing. After watching the way Derek walked past and
hardly acknowledged me, I felt like we were back in high school and Curt
had gotten to him again. Only I knew better. Derek had done this to himself.
He had drawn a line in the sand, and when I decided not to cross that line, he
got upset.
I picked up my tray, loaded down with trash, and walked over to his table.
I didn’t have to make a big deal about anything to make him get my point. I
just wanted him to recognize that I was there and that I had feelings too.
“You didn’t want to sit with us?” I shifted my weight, balancing the tray
on one hand as I picked up his straw wrapper and placed it on my tray.
“You seemed all cozy with your new boyfriend over there.” His eyes
flicked angrily in Alex’s direction and then turned down to his sandwich.
“Didn’t want to interrupt.”
“There was plenty of space at the table. We have lunch together every
day. We’re friends, right?” The words obeyed me, like good little school
children in a single-file line, marching out to recess down the hallway. And
they hit their mark. The groove in his brow deepened into a scowl. I knew
what I said when I said it. If he could play this game, so could I, and I’d had
nearly two weeks to stew on his infuriating comment about “sex and
friendship”.
“Well, you just seem to have moved on so quickly, that’s all.” He
shrugged and took another bite of his sandwich. When he peered up at me, I
almost lost it. If I hadn’t been afraid of making a scene, I’d have smacked
him right across the face. But I plastered a smile across my lips as if he
hadn’t said a thing and nodded.
“I’ll see you back in the office.”
Staying cool under pressure was difficult, but I was practiced. It was like
my superpower. Emotional control was something I had gotten very good at
while my mother was slowly dying. I never wanted her to think I would be
crushed if she left us, because she had no choice. The way that cancer ate at
her body and drained the life out of her was devastating. I had cried myself to
sleep so many nights, but Mom got only smiles.
All I could think about as I walked away was how many people I’d have
rush to my side if I just broke down and cried. People to comfort me, people
to listen to my side of things. People to smack the living daylights out of the
man I loved because he was acting like a complete asshole.
Tears burned at my eyes, but I blinked them back as I dumped the tray of
trash into the bin and set it with the others to be returned to the kitchen. Part
of me wanted to retreat into the bathroom and sob, but Gypsy had not left the
facilities yet and I knew she’d ask questions. Regardless of whether Derek
was a total jerk or not, I still respected him as my boss, and I could never let
our secret out—especially not to someone within the office.
So I returned to my desk and sulked. I wished I were one of those girls
who could just do NSA sex and be okay, but I wasn’t. Sex meant something
to me, and it affected me. I wanted to scream and let Derek know how hurtful
he was being, but I couldn’t. If I wanted this to work out, if there were any
hope at all, I had to hold my tongue and let him decide by himself that he
couldn’t live without me.
I just prayed he’d figure that out soon.

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 CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Derek

C ARRYING the cup of steaming hot coffee—just the way Maggie liked it—to
her office, I was careful to knock before entering. I had gotten out of the habit
of bringing her coffee over the past few weeks, given our uncertain
interactions. Those frustrating conversations in particular were the reason
inner-office dating was strictly on my “do not do” list. But given the pained
expression on her face at lunch earlier this week when I had been overly
harsh with her about the gentleman she’d had lunch with, I owed her an
apology.
Her eyes scanned up my body from Sperrys to smile as I entered, and she
offered her own simper. Her eyelashes batted as I approached and set the
coffee in front of her.
“I wanted to call a truce.” Here in the office was not the best place to
have this conversation—there were ears everywhere. But she wasn’t exactly
speaking to me outside the office or returning my phone calls. I just knew this
passive aggressive silence was not good for the atmosphere. Barbra had
commented on how moody I was. Strangely enough, she hadn’t mentioned
anything out of sorts with Maggie.
“Actually I’m cutting back on caffeine. But thank you.” She pushed the
cup away from herself and looked down at the files in front of her. I couldn’t
help but feel slighted. We’d done this every day for weeks, and now
suddenly, she was putting up her own wall instead of tearing mine down. The
guy from lunch, whoever he was . . . did he have something to do with this?
“Getting healthier?” I didn’t want to leave her office, but I had no other
reason to stay. It was obvious by her clear lack of interest in my presence that
she would rather I not be there.
“Something like that.” Her eyes never left the page with that comment,
which irritated me. I stood planted like a tree, waiting for her to look up at me
again, but she continued browsing the file. I even cleared my throat once,
thinking she would get the point, but the file seemed to entertain her. So I
became very direct about how I felt.
“Maggie, are you avoiding me?” I used a hushed tone so the others in the
office wouldn’t hear what I was saying. It was neither the time nor the place,
but I refused to be toyed with.
She looked up at me with a half-smile on her lips. “No, Dr. Holt. We
work in the same office. How could I avoid you?” After a glance at the clock
on the wall, she closed the file and cleared her throat. “If you will excuse me,
Tammy will be bringing my first patient of the day in soon, and I have some
reading to catch up on to make sure I’ve got her diet correct.”
Frustrated but not wanting to draw attention to it, I shook my head at her
and left her office. The door shut behind me, and I carried all that frustration
with me back down the hall. Once in my office, I let my squared shoulders
droop. It didn’t matter what I was feeling about her now. I had already fucked
it up. There had to be a way to get through to her. I just wasn’t sure how.
I sat behind my computer and brooded. I was in my head too much. I was
letting this entire situation turn into the exact thing I didn’t want to happen,
and it was affecting my ability to concentrate and work. The only upside to
all of this was that Sofia had already moved on to start her own practice, and
I didn’t have to answer to anyone. That would have made dating Maggie a
whole lot easier, but if this was the way she wanted to be, then I’d hold fast to
my no-dating policy.
Maggie Brock was just an employee, and if she wanted to be, a friend. I
couldn’t afford to let this get under my skin. If her brother found out about
what had happened between us, that would compound the issue—though I’m
sure not to the extent it had in high school. Still, I didn’t need the drama in
my life. I had been perfectly happy doing my thing without any woman
messing things up.
Trying to push away my frustration, I focused on the computer in front of
me. I had no appointments all morning, and there were a few patients I
needed to do a bit of research on. Helen Borchers had some resistant
hypertension, so I was looking into a new drug regimen for her. And Kylie
Painter heard of a new drug on television to treat her diabetes, which I’d been
briefed about but not done much reading on.
I dug into the studies, but my focus was off. I kept reaching for my phone
and checking the time and my email. The topics were interesting, but I just
couldn’t stay zeroed in on the work. I kept thinking how irritating Maggie
was being with her “always happy” act that made me seem like the bad guy. I
accepted that I was the one who had told her we were friends who had sex
and nothing more. But she was the one who had weaponized my words and
tried to cut me with them.
And who was that guy she was eating with at lunch a few days ago? It
didn’t make sense how fast she went on to another guy. Except that maybe
she, too, was thinking we were just having NSA sex. She hadn’t mentioned
anything to me about having feelings for me, and the way she snuggled up to
me . . . maybe I misinterpreted it. Maybe I had read her all wrong, and that
was why she was lashing out at me.
The door creaked open, and I looked up to see her standing there. “Come
in.” I waved my hand, and she took a few steps in, closing the door behind
her.
“I have the file for Penny Looker. She was in last week for her gestational
check. Her sugars were too high, and I’ve got a new meal plan for her. I can
join you at her checkup today, or we can wait and schedule another
appointment for early next week where I can meet with her separately. She’s
at thirty-two weeks, though, so we need to get her this new meal plan right
away.”
Maggie slid the file across my desk, and I didn’t even bother opening it.
I’d been stewing for nearly thirty minutes since I left her office and she still
seemed as happy as can be.
“I think maybe you should schedule the appointment separately.” My
tone was harsher than was professional, but she kept her plastic smile.
“Alright, I’ll have Tammy do that for us before Penny leaves the office.”
She turned to go, but anger bubbled up inside me and I felt the need to get
another word in. I probably shouldn’t have said a thing, but I couldn’t help
myself.
“I suppose you’ll have to ask your gentleman friend to have lunch with
you since you’re going healthy. I’m planning to have Chinese today.”
 She stood with her back to me, hand on the doorknob for a good fifteen
seconds before she turned and flashed an award-winning smile at me. My
words probably cut her deep, but I didn’t care. Yes, I was being petty. Yes, it
was my decision to have the goddamn policy that I could tear to shreds if I
wanted to. I had no clue what was wrong with me except that I had gotten
angry and hadn’t calmed down yet.
“Thanks for letting me know. You’re right. Too much MSG in Chinese.”
She winked at me and left my office, taking her rainbow and sunshine with
her and leaving me to mope on my own.

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 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Maggie

T RAFFIC PASSED by the small corner café just three blocks from the hospital.
Gypsy and I had taken lunch together privately. I needed to talk and I didn’t
want anyone else to hear, and Gypsy and I had grown a bit closer over the
past few months working together. After leaving town for so long to attend
college, I found myself having zero friends, and this wasn’t the sort of thing
you talked to your brother about. So Gypsy it was.
The sun overhead was hot, late June finally showering us in the warmth
we deserved. We sipped lemonade and swapped patient stories while we ate.
But what I had to talk about weighed on my thoughts so much that Gypsy
could see right through me. She had asked me at least five times if everything
was okay, and each time, I forced a smile and told her it was.
It wasn’t, and I was about to explode.
“So you keep lying to me, telling me you’re okay, but I can see that
something is bothering you. You keep stabbing your pasta like it’s going to
jump off the plate and attack you. And if your smile gets any faker, I’m going
to think you’re practicing to be in the Ms. Universe pageant.”
Gypsy slurped her lemonade, making gurgling sounds as the liquid in the
cup ran out and air chased the last drops into her mouth. She reached across
the table and grabbed my wrist, stopping me from murdering the linguini. I
felt tears brimming already and knew exactly why. My typical strength of
being able to shut down emotion, compartmentalize, and move on had eluded
me for the past few weeks.
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I’m pregnant.” There was no point in trying to put it eloquently. I was a
hormonal mess, and before I finished the words, the tears were rolling. I’d
never felt so weak in my life.
She released my wrist and grabbed her napkin, shoving it into my hand.
“Fuck, girl. When did you find out? How far along are you? Did you tell Dr.
Holt? Are you going to see him?”
“No!” I snapped. I shouldn’t have snapped. It might have given me away,
but it was a knee-jerk reaction. “No, Gypsy. I’m not seeing Derek as my
doctor, and I would appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to him—or to
anyone, for that matter.”
She nodded but looked confused. I wiped my face and blew my nose, my
desire to decimate my linguini finally gone. It felt like the dam had burst and
I was two hundred gallons lighter.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just so fucking emotional right
now.” I tossed the used napkin to the table and sipped my lemonade before
continuing. Gypsy sat waiting patiently, her ear tuned to my heart. “I don’t
want Derek to know because he’s my brother’s friend, and I’m not ready to
tell my family.” It was as good a lie as any, and it was one hundred percent
true.
“Sure, I get that.” She took my hand again, offering her sympathy. “You
want to talk about it? You know who the dad is?”
“Yeah, I know exactly who it is. I’ve only slept with one guy in the past
year, so there is no mistaking it. The problem is that he made it very clear to
me that all he wanted was sex. I can’t go tell him I’m pregnant. I mean, the
relationship is pretty much over anyway, but if I tell him this, I’m not sure
what he will think.”
More tears streamed down my face, but there were no more clean napkins
to dry them up. I swiped at them furiously as Gypsy tried calming me with
comforting words, but nothing stopped the torrent once it started. A friendly
stranger passed by and laid a pack of travel-sized tissues on the table and
patted my shoulder before walking away. She said nothing, but the feminine
bond all women share was felt.
“Okay, so you’re on your own right now. That’s not horrible, Maggie.
You’re a very strong woman. You are capable and smart. You will be a
terrific mother.”
 But would I? Gypsy continued talking, but suddenly, my thoughts turned
to what should have been my very first reaction the moment I took that damn
test. My period was over a week late, which wasn’t unheard of with my
insulin imbalance. Sometimes, it was just late because my hormones got off.
But when Derek and I had sex and my boobs were tender, then I started
feeling sicker and sicker, the last straw was my period being late.
I freaked out about him, about what he’d think. I hadn’t even stopped to
realize that I had no idea how to be a mother. Mom died when I was so young
that there were times I forgot her voice, her scent, or the things we did
together. For all intents and purposes, I had no mother. How was I supposed
to be a good mother?
“Maggie!” Gypsy snapped her fingers in front of my eyes and called me
back from my silent inner obsessing. She plucked a tissue from the donated
travel pack and put it in my hand. I had to be a wreck. My makeup was
probably smeared everywhere, giving me racoon eyes, but what did it matter
right now? “Listen, you need to tell the father. If you can’t tell me who it is,
that’s fine. But first of all, he deserves to know. And second of all, he needs
to take financial responsibility for this.”
“I can’t, Gyps. You don’t understand.”
I shook my head firmly and blew my nose again. There was no way in
hell I was telling Derek. At least, not any time soon. I knew him. He’d either
freak out entirely, or he’d demand that we “do the right thing”. I didn’t want
him to feel obligated into a relationship or pity me for the situation I was in. I
wanted him to love me the way I loved him, and it was obvious to me that he
didn’t.
“Why not? It’s not like he isn’t aware that you’ve had unprotected
sex . . .” Her eyes grew large. “Please tell me he’s aware that you were not on
the pill.” She sighed and leaned in, whispering very loudly, “Maggie, he
knows, right?”
“If you’re asking whether I planned this on purpose, the answer is no. I
did not. We had unprotected sex at least half a dozen times, but he never
asked if I was on the pill. We just sort of . . . did it.”
I shrugged. It had been the last thing on my mind, anyway. When we had
sex, I had always been in the moment. And it wasn’t like I was trying to get
pregnant.
“I wasn’t accusing you. It’s just something that people think about when
they start having sex. You know? You didn’t think of this?”
 “You’re making me sound like I’m totally irresponsible. I’m not. When
we had sex, it was at times I believed myself not fertile. Like, I track my
ovulation and shit, but maybe the stress of the move, the new job, you
know . . . maybe it threw my cycle out.”
I had been so obsessed with him, seeing him after all these years,
reconnecting. He was so fucking hot, and even though I had one hundred
percent confidence in my appearance, it wasn’t often that a man that
attractive would fall for a big, beautiful woman like me. It was an ego boost,
and it blinded me to some of the crucial details I should have thought of.
“Just help me.” I scowled and buried my face in my hands.
“I’m here. Okay? I’m not going anywhere. You’re like the closest thing I
have to a best friend, Mags, and if you’re going through this, I’m going
through it with you. Alright?” Gypsy’s hand on my back comforted me as she
rubbed in a circular motion. She was right. I had to tell Derek. And I would
have to eat my words when I had to come clean and tell Gypsy that he was
the father, but he deserved to know before anyone else.
I piled all the trash onto my plate and stood, tucking the travel tissues into
the pocket of my scrubs as I walked to the bin. Gypsy followed a few steps
behind.
As we turned to head back to the office, she nudged me with her elbow.
“So are you going to name the baby after me if it’s a girl?” She giggled, and I
smiled and shook my head.
“Right now, I just need to come to terms with the fact that I’m going to
have a baby. Once that sinks in all the way, you and I can talk about names,
and a nursery, and a baby shower—you’re going to have to plan that, you
know?” I smiled at her.
It wasn’t life-shattering, but it was definitely life-altering. For me and for
Derek.
Now I just needed to work up the courage to tell him. And after the last
few weeks of us not even getting along, I knew it would come as a complete
shock to him. I just hoped he didn’t run away scared or angry with me
because he thought I’d planned this. I didn’t think I could handle that at all.

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 CHAPTER NINETEEN

Derek

“O KAY , Kelsey, we’re all done here.” I peeled off my gloves and tossed them
in the trash, waiting for Kelsey to pull her shirt back over her distended
stomach. At thirty-nine weeks, she was ready to pop and was measuring just
about perfect. I assumed I’d get a call over the weekend that she was in labor
and I’d have to meet her at the hospital.
“Thanks, Doc. You really think it will be this weekend?” She struggled to
sit up, so I offered her a hand. She had two toddlers at home, ages one and
three, so for her third baby to come so soon meant planning a sitter for the
others. It was a concern she had brought up a number of times. That and her
husband not being home from work in time.
“I really think so. When a low-pressure front comes in, it often triggers
birth. Yes, I know that’s an old wives’ tale, but it’s true. So keep your hubby
and your sitter on standby.” I winked at her as I helped her off the table. As
far as I knew, she and I were the only ones in the office, so I walked her out.
But as we exited the room, I saw a light on in Maggie’s office. Either she left
it on, which wasn’t like her, or she was still working.
“Alright, well you be on standby too.” Kelsey smiled and thanked me as I
opened the outer office door and let her out. I watched her leave and shut the
door quietly. If Maggie was in her office, she’d have heard me send away the
last patient.
I could play this two ways. Go to her office and let her know I was
finished and wanted to leave. Or go to my office and hope she left before me.
Things hadn’t been exactly pleasant between us the past few days after our
disagreement. Like always, she came to work and did her job professionally
with a smile on her face, but I could tell something was bothering her. She
had started having lunch with Gypsy away from the hospital, avoiding me. It
was my fault.
I knew I had started developing feelings for her, and I knew that deep
down, she was feeling the same way. I just refused to live with the fact that
our relationship inside this office would get messy because of emotions. Call
it my foolish pride, but my job came first. I’d spent years building this
practice, and I wouldn’t throw it away because of romantic involvement. And
unfortunately, due to my own issues with Peter, I was in no state to try and
balance more stress in the office. So I pushed her away. I knew that. If things
were over between us, I at least wanted two things—closure and a peaceful
office.
So I did what I thought was best. I headed straight for her office. The
door was ajar, so I pushed it open. Maggie was seated behind her computer,
typing away. Tears streamed down her face, and instantly, I was concerned. I
hadn’t seen her cry since she was a child. She always had a smile on her face.
My heart wrenched.
“Hey, are you okay? Is everything alright?” I advanced toward her desk,
pulling a chair out and plopping down across from her without even being
invited. She glanced at me and swiped at her face. Always the brave one, she
kept her heart concealed. I wondered how many times she’d done that to me
over the past few months—hidden behind a smile when she really had other
things to say. Had I been oblivious or just ignorant?
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Maggie’s smile was fake, but her heart was genuine.
Whatever she was shielding me from, I needed to understand what it was. I
had been open with her about Peter, and she had helped me gain new
understanding. Maybe I could do that for her if she would just talk to me.
“Maggie, you’re not okay. I can see that. Tell me what’s wrong.” I
pressed her, and maybe I shouldn’t have. She shrugged and continued typing,
her eyes scanning her computer screen as she ignored me. “Magnolia Brock,
you listen to me. I don’t care if you don’t feel like talking. You need to tell
me what’s going on.”
In my gut, I knew it had to do with me, but I wasn’t really prepared for
what she said when she opened her mouth. “I’m finding a new job, Derek.
I’m typing my resignation notice now.”
The news was a punch to the gut. I grabbed her laptop and turned it
around to her strong protest. She was really typing a resignation notice in an
email addressed to me and Barbra.
“What the heck? No, Mags. You’re not quitting.” I closed the computer
and stood up, raking a hand through my hair. Maggie was a perfect fit in this
practice. How the fuck had I let it get so far out of control that she wanted to
leave us?
“You don’t get to decide what I do. And stop calling me Mags. I’m not
your Mags.” She pulled her laptop back toward herself but didn’t open it.
Staring obstinately at me, she blinked back further tears. I couldn’t believe
what she was saying. Every single reason I had that damn policy was playing
out in front of me, and I was the idiot who’d crossed the line.
“Maggie, you’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m being ridiculous? Me?” She stood and picked up her computer,
shoving it into her bag along with a few pens, a notebook, and her cell phone
from off her desk. “Derek, I’ve done nothing but try to please you since the
first minute I walked into this office. I work my ass off to get where I’m
going, and I’m not about to let some man ruin my career by—”
“Whoa, whoa! Hold on.” I walked around the end of her desk and tried to
calm her by placing my hands on her shoulders, but she shrugged out of my
grasp, reaching for a scarf hanging from the coat tree. She collected a
sweater, an empty coffee mug, and the scarf, shoving them all in her bag. It
hit me what she was doing. She was packing her things up.
The reality dawned on me that she was serious about leaving. That
resignation notice would have been sent to me just after she left for the night,
and maybe I’d never see her again. She’d go home to be alone and sulk.
Word would get back to Curt that she’d quit her job and moved on to
somewhere else, and he’d put the pieces together. She was a fool if she
thought I’d let her leave like that.
“Maggie, we need to talk about this.” I followed her around the room then
out the door to the breakroom, where she grabbed a lunch pack from the
fridge and a diet soda, unopened.
“What’s there to talk about, Derek? It’s just sex and friendship.”
The words slung at me in anger hurt. The very words I’d used to hurt her,
though I hadn’t intended it to feel like this. I knew why she was so angry
now. I’d never wanted her to feel this way.
 “Magnolia, please. Listen to me.” I reached for her elbow, but she shied
away, heading straight for the office door. She was out in the concourse
before I could stop her, but I stayed fast on her heels, lowering my voice so
the entire hospital didn’t have to hear our spat. “Maggie. Stop.”
She continued walking toward the exit, and because we were so close to
the main entrance, I knew I had only seconds left before she walked out of
here upset. Whether or not we fixed things right now, I couldn’t let her leave
so angry. She shouldn’t be driving that way. So I glanced around quickly to
make sure no one was watching, then nabbed her elbow and pulled her into a
supply closet, locking the door behind us. She protested with a loud yelp of
pain and a glare, but I stood between her and the door, arms crossed over my
chest.
“You’re not leaving in this state.”
“Try and stop me.” She pushed at my shoulder, but I wouldn’t budge.
“Maggie, just talk to me. I can see you’re really upset. You don’t have to
leave like this. You don’t have to quit. You are a fantastic nutritionist, and the
office needs you.” I was relieved when she took a step back and stopped
trying to shove me aside.
“Get out of my way.” Her angry glare turned to a quivering lip, which
turned to a shout. “Move!”
I could think of nothing else to do than to cover her lips with mine and
silence the beasts raging inside both of us. She resisted, slamming her fists
into my shoulders as I cupped her cheeks and held her there. But the punches
didn’t hurt, and I knew they were just her way of releasing the anger she felt.
So I endured them as I kissed her deeper, feeling her lips part to let me in.
My tongue danced against hers as her hands gripped my biceps. She still
resisted, trying to pull away, pressing on my chest. So I slid a hand behind
her head and tangled it in her hair, refusing to let up. The hot, angry kisses
devolved into an animalistic urge to have her.
“Fuck, Maggie, I need you,” I said against her mouth. My body geared up
to have her, and I felt her rage dissolving as she leaned into me. Her grip
softened. Her resistance waned until she was tearing at my shirt. “Shit . . . I
missed this so much.”
I yanked the bag off her shoulder and blindly dropped it to the side, then
grabbed one of her tits, squeezing it. It filled my grasp, fuller than I
remembered. She moaned. It sounded like pain, but the way she attacked my
neck with kisses and teeth told me she wanted more. So I gave her more. I
backed her against a stack of boxes, leaning in so hard she almost lost her
balance, and she pushed me back, forcing me into a shelving unit.
Bottles of cleaner and mop heads on the shelf toppled to the floor. The
sound was deafening, but I ignored it. She had me so worked up just thinking
she’d actually walk out before we settled things. I had to have her.
“God, you have to fuck me,” I whispered in her ear and felt her hand
down the front of my pants in response. She stroked me as she worked to get
the button undone, so I helped her, freeing myself. “I need you so bad.”
Gone were the naughty role-playing phrases we’d say to each other when
things got steamy. This was pure, visceral lust clawing its way out of my soul
and demanding that she be the one to answer its call. My hands groped her
curves, feeling their fullness beneath my hands. How could she leave this
behind? Why didn’t she see what she’d be missing?

OceanofPDF.com
 CHAPTER TWENTY

Maggie

T HOUGHTS RACED THROUGH MY HEAD , but I pushed every single one of them
aside. I was helplessly in love with this man, and even when he was a
complete asshole, I still wanted him. I couldn’t help myself. My hand
wrapped around his cock and stroked him as his teeth sank into my shoulder,
and I pushed him harder against the shelf.
“Why are you such an asshole?” I worked at getting his pants down with
one hand while he was busy pushing the elastic waistband of mine lower. He
took a firm grip of my ass cheek and squeezed.
“Shut up and fuck me.” Derek got a bit forceful again, walking forward as
he pushed my panties down. We ran into a mop bucket, making it roll toward
the door. The mop, once standing erect in the basin, fell over, smacking the
door loudly. He slammed me against the wall, groping my breast as my pants
fell to the floor. I was thankful for the comfort of elastic waistband scrubs
that were baggier and much easier to remove. I stepped out of my ballet flats
and away from my discarded clothing.
“Stop telling me what to do.” I let go of his cock long enough to push his
pants down, and he hoisted my shirt up over my chest and folded the front of
my bra down. He bent over and covered my nipple with his mouth, flicking it
with his tongue as he kicked off his shoes and wriggled out of his pants. I
hissed when he bit down too hard but groaned softly when his fingers found
my pussy, already dripping and craving him.
 He plunged his fingers between my folds and into me and made the ache
grow worse. By the time I finally got him out of his shirt, he had precum
dripping from his dick. The more I stroked, the more precum slicked my grip.
He thrust his fingers into me, working to touch that rough patch inside that
felt so good, and I lifted a leg, resting my foot on a shelf behind him so he’d
have more room to pleasure me.
“Fuck . . . Derek, make me come.” I pressed down on his shoulder,
directing him to what I really wanted. He lingered there, tongue circling my
nipple as I stroked him, but I pressed on his shoulder harder. “God . . . do I
have to fucking beg?”
His lips returned to mine, silencing my attitude, and his hands squeezed
my tits so hard I thought I’d cry. They were so sensitive it hurt to wear a bra
right now, and fuck if his thumbs pressing in on my nipples wouldn’t bring
me to orgasm if he did it long enough, but they hurt. So I reached with both
hands and pushed down on his shoulders one more time.
“I need you to eat me now.”
Derek dropped to his knees and used both hands to spread me open. The
heat of his breath across my moisture sent a shudder of pleasure up my back.
I left my hands on his shoulders as his tongue plunged into me and he sucked
my folds. My pussy screamed for him to penetrate me, but I knew if I rushed
it I’d finish too soon. I wanted to enjoy every second of this.
I laced my fingers in his dark waves and pushed his face into me,
doubling over as his sucking made me jolt with pleasure. Derek smeared the
wetness around my pussy and teased my ass. I felt weak in the knees, the
twinge of pain in my groin growing by the second. And when he pushed his
fingers in, I clenched.
“Shit . . .” His tongue pressed into my clit, then he started sucking, all the
while slowly gliding his fingers in and out of me. I thought I’d fall over, but
he draped my leg over his shoulder and I leaned on him, now grabbing
fistfuls of hair. He devoured me, sucking me and thrusting into me with three
fingers. I wanted more, like his whole fucking fist, but before I even had a
chance to whimper out how good it felt, my body was convulsing. He never
backed off, indulging in the fruit of his labor. I felt the deluge of my release
making me sloppily wet, and he sucked it up faster than my body made it.
Derek continued his ministrations until the orgasm passed. I was left
hunched over, panting, as he rose up and pinned me against the wall. His
kisses returned with fervency, and I tasted myself on his lips which only
turned me on more. He kept an arm hooked beneath my knee and lifted as he
slid into me.
“Shit, I’ve needed this for days.” Each upward thrust drove into me
harder than the previous one, grinding me against the wall. His body melded
into mine, his hands gripping my tits again. I whimpered, the ache in my
breasts a little too much, but the way he fucked me distracted me.
“Derek, I—” His lips covered mine before I could ask him to stop
squeezing my breast. He drove harder, pushing his cock into my back wall,
that spot so deep it felt like he’d sink into my womb. It stimulated something
stronger than the previous orgasm, dwarfed the waves of arousal like a
tsunami washing houses into each other.
“You feel amazing,” he grunted, pumping his hips upward. His thrusts
were glorious, driving me closer to the edge again, and he sped up too, which
only made my pussy tense more. I was going to come again.
My hands slid down his back, resting on his ass, where I dug my nails in,
wishing he’d go even deeper. My pants of pleasure came out louder than
intended, but I didn’t care. I needed this. So I pushed my nails in harder, and
he responded by fucking me harder. My head knocked on the wall, his body
holding me there until he’d had his way with me. And when my release came
again, I had to bite his chest to avoid screaming. The orgasm was so intense I
could barely stand.
I was so lost in ecstasy I didn’t realize he had released too until I felt his
load running down my leg. He remained there, slowly pumping into me as I
recovered, and I turned my chin up to find his lips eager to kiss me. These
kisses were softer but somehow hungrier than before. He released my leg and
I lowered it. As he pulled out, he cupped both of my cheeks and continued
kissing me. I felt his cock resting against my stomach, still hard and wet. I
didn’t want him to pull away. I didn’t want this to end.
My heart felt so connected to him in that moment that nothing else in the
world even mattered. My hands splayed on his bare chest. I felt his heart
pounding. His teeth raked across my lower lip, and he rested his forehead on
mine. He had sated the need in my body for pleasure, but the ache in my
heart for love remained. If only he knew the words my heart needed to say
and would say them unprompted. It was all I wanted.
Derek’s hands rested on my hips. He stood with his forehead pressed to
mine, leaning into me against that wall, but he didn’t say a word. The silence
lingered for seconds, which turned to minutes. He stared down at my half-
exposed breasts crushed against his chest. I felt his dick between us soften,
his own lust expelled, and still, he stood there. If there were ever a time for
me to tell him how I felt, what was happening in my body, it was now.
So why couldn’t I bring myself to do it?
I parted my lips to speak, but before I could, he did.
“Maggie, you can’t leave. Not because of this. We can still make this
work. The sex we have is incredible. No one has to know.” He didn’t pull
away, but the warmth between us vanished. Luckily for him, my anger was
spent. My heart might have felt empty, but so was my emotional gas tank.
“You have to stay,” he whispered, but I got the distinct impression that he
meant at the office, because of our patients. It had nothing to do with my
heart or us having a relationship. If it did, it was purely for the sex—which
admittedly was really incredible.
“Fine.” I sighed, letting my hands drop from around his waist. He backed
away and turned away from me, finding his clothes. I stood and watched him
for a moment, wondering how I could be so stupid as to be fooled by this act
again. My heart was so heavy. How could he not see that I was totally in love
with him?
“Emotions just get messy sometimes.” Derek stepped into his pants and
pulled them up. I retrieved mine, only halfway listening to him. I turned my
back on him to dress too, fixing my top and sliding my feet into my flats.
“Things don’t have to get messy. Okay?”
I had to choke back a sob that wanted to come out, and my eyes blinked
furiously, trying to keep the tears at bay. That’s what he really thought . . .
that emotions would make this messy? The cum, now dried on my inner
thigh, clung to my scrubs and made it uncomfortable, so I used it as an
excuse to leave. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to smack some sense into
him, make him understand that emotions were not messy.
What was messy was my being pregnant, alone, with no help from him
because I wasn’t about to tell him I was pregnant, only to have him do the
honorable thing. I wanted him to love me for me, because he finally admitted
to himself that he needed me for more than just sex.
“I want to get home and shower. This mess is gross.” I picked up my bag
and the few items that had fallen out of it when he dropped it, and I slung it
over my shoulder. This time, when I went for the door, he didn’t stop me. But
he did call after me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
 I paused, listening to the sound of him zipping his zipper up. My heart
was broken, and I wanted to curl up and cry, but I nodded. “Tomorrow.”
I drove home the long way, listening to sad love songs on repeat. I’d
gotten myself into this chaos, and it was my bed to lie in. I just wished my
bed weren’t so lonely.

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 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y- O N E

Derek

M AGGIE SEEMED reluctant when I invited her to attend the children’s hospital
benefit, but she had agreed. I hired a limo to take us, an expense I didn’t have
to go to, and one I wouldn’t have splurged on if Sofia had been my plus one
for the evening, but I wanted her to feel special. I got the feeling after sex in
the supply closet that I had somehow let her down, as if begging her to stay
and telling her I needed her weren’t enough.
Things had been more civil in the office, at least. She had started having
lunch with the group again, though she didn’t eat much at all, merely picked
at her food. And we hadn’t argued at all, but I also hadn’t felt that spark
between us, like somehow, she had withdrawn. Part of me wondered whether
it was the guy from lunch that day or if I really had fucked up that badly.
But when I pulled up to her house and she walked out the front door
wearing that emerald-green, cinched mermaid gown, everything was
forgotten. I hurried out of the limo without waiting for the chauffeur to open
the door and jogged up the sidewalk to meet her, offering my arm. The way
the dress hugged her hips, accentuating her perfect hourglass figure, made my
heart race a little. The off-the-shoulder gown had a plunging neckline that
offered ample view of her cleavage, and the golden locket that hung around
her neck rested just above her breasts, drawing my eye downward.
“You look gorgeous.”
Maggie carried herself with the poise and confidence I had grown to
expect from her. I just hadn’t realized how stunning she truly was. Her hair
had been swept up into a French twist and pinned down with a gold clip
slathered in jewels, exposing her neckline and a tiny tattoo on the back of her
neck shaped like a heart. She rested her hand on my arm, and I guided her to
the limo, where the driver finally had the door held open for us.
Once she was seated, I slid in after her and the driver shut us in. Her
perfume permeated the air in the cabin, something floral but delicate, not
overpowering. I wasn’t sure what to say to her, so I told her again how
beautiful she looked.
“That gown is just stunning on you.” She smiled at me politely and
hugged her small black clutch to her waist as the car took off.
“So, this is for the new children’s hospital they’re building on Route 203
near Durnsville?” She watched out the window as the limo sped away from
her home and out of her neighborhood. When I didn’t respond, she looked
back at me.
“Yes, uh, four hundred dollars a plate, and Sofia already paid for hers.
She said to find someone else to attend in her place since their move got
pushed up.” I was repeating information she already knew, but I felt like an
awkward schoolboy, tongue-tied and nervous.
Maggie nodded. “And Gypsy will be there too?” She eyed me cautiously,
as if she were testing me for some reason.
“Yeah, she has her own date. Someone from phlebotomy, she said. I
guess he bought his own ticket a while back.” It was hard to keep it
professional when she was so fucking hot. My eyes kept migrating back to
that damn plunging neckline and her tits, and she kept giving me a look of
disapproval.
The entire ride to the event was full of surface-level conversation. As
awkward as that was, things got even worse the very instant we stepped out
of the limo onto the awaiting red carpet. The director of obstetrics, Judy
Sommers, shook my hand and eyed Maggie.
“Well, Dr. Holt, I expected to see Sofia. Who is this lovely lady who has
captured your heart?” The older woman shook my hand and smiled at
Maggie, who blushed.
“Ah, Dr. Sommers, we’re not dating. This is Magnolia Brock. She’s the
nutritionist we hired in the spring.” Judy clicked her tongue and winked at
Maggie.
“Yes, dear. Well, you keep telling yourself that.”
 Maggie glowed as we walked away, and I scowled. “Did you have to let
her think we were dating?” I offered my arm, and Maggie rested her hand in
the crook of my elbow as we entered the venue.
“She was a harmless old lady, Derek. She probably saw that massive
bulge in your pants and decided you were hot for me.” She smirked and
extended her hand to another colleague of ours who strolled up.
I’d hoped it wasn’t that obvious that she had aroused me. It was difficult
trying to hide something like that to begin with, but in these tuxedo pants, it
was near impossible. The shame of having it pointed out to me, coupled with
the embarrassment that others might see what Judy saw, made it deflate like a
burst balloon. We greeted people we knew as we saw them, but the distant
small talk continued.
When Gretchen Muelfield, former Sunday school teacher and high-school
principal, strolled up, Maggie was all grins again. She drank in the attention
like a diva, and I wished I had just stayed home.
“Well, Magnolia Brock and Dr. Derek Holt, fancy seeing you two here
together. What a hot item you were back in the day. It’s nice to see the flames
of love never died.” She shook Maggie’s hand and then mine as she chatted.
“How is Peter? How is Curt? What are those boys up to, anyway?”
“They’re hardly boys anymore, Mrs. Muelfield.” Maggie’s grin was
gorgeous. I just wished it wasn’t at my expense. These people were chipping
away at my resolve. “Curt is a pharmaceutical rep, and Peter, well . . .” She
looked at me, so I answered.
“Peter is fine. He’s doing well.” That was all I could tell her because I
didn’t really know what Peter was doing other than mooching money off me
and working in my barn.
“Well, you two just make an adorable couple, you know.” She squinted
through her coke-bottle glasses. She had to be pushing eighty years old now.
“Good to see you. Maybe after dinner, we will have a chance to catch up.”
Every time someone said we made a cute couple or commented on how
good we looked together, my tie tightened around my neck more. As we
walked away from Gretchen, Maggie hugged my arm tighter.
“Lighten up, Derek. It’s not a huge deal. You don’t have to climb up on
the stage and make an announcement that we’re not a couple.” She sounded
hurt, but her smile remained fixed. She was good at that, hiding her emotions.
I, however, was not, so the permanent scowl stayed on my face right up to the
point we sat down across from Gypsy and her date, which turned out to be
the man I thought Maggie might have been seeing. Fuck, did I have that all
wrong. I felt like an idiot for not seeing that, but at least Maggie wasn’t
seeing him. Finding that out felt like opening a new can of worms. Half of the
weird behavior she’d been exhibiting lately had been things I’d blamed on
her dating someone else—like missing work, lunches alone, ignoring my
texts. If it wasn’t that guy, who the fuck was it?
“Boss, wowzah!” Gypsy batted her eyelashes at me. “You clean up nice!”
She offered Maggie a hug and then sat back down, snapping her cloth napkin
in the air before draping it across her lap.
“Thanks.” Not knowing what else to say, I focused on my flatware,
shifting it farther away from me on the table. Gypsy’s date spoke up, adding
his reaction to my apparently obvious status.
“You have an absolutely stunning woman, Dr. Holt. Really, you’re a
lucky man.” The guy didn’t have a clue, and judging by the look on Gypsy’s
face, she didn’t have the heart to tell him. I’d already protested it too many
times to count, and when I opened my mouth to offer my dissent, the emcee’s
mic crackled and the night began.
Three hours later, we were on our way out and got bombarded by another
round of greetings and goodbyes, well wishes for our happiness. Maggie
never once protested, and even when Gypsy gave us suspicious glances,
Maggie’s lips remained sealed, so needless to say, as soon as we were in the
limo, the gloves came off.
The chauffeur drove us back to her house as I drove my point home.
“That was a disaster. I’ve never been more humiliated in my life.”
Maggie scoffed, angling in her seat to glare at me. She crossed her arms
over her chest, making her cleavage pop out farther. She had no clue what
she was doing to me, and I felt like even if she did, she wouldn’t care. The
rage painted on her face glued me to my seat.
“Humiliated? You know what’s humiliating? It’s being told repeatedly
how pretty I look on your arm, only to hear you tell countless people how
undateable I am.” Her scowl deepened, and I cringed.
“I never said you were undateable. I just don’t want to be seen as the guy
who dates his employees.”
Maggie remained silent as we rode across town to her place. I walked her
to the door but told the limo driver to wait for me to come back. Despite the
calm expression on her face, I knew she was still angry with me. I could tell
by the way her shoulders were squared and she avoided eye contact. The
longer I spent around her, the more I could see through her put-on happiness.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I just didn’t see the problem with letting
people think what they think.” She let herself in and left the door open behind
her, and I followed her in. If it was an invitation to continue our evening, I
couldn’t take it. But I didn’t want to leave until we’d settled up and I felt
better about the way things ended this evening.

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 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y-T WO

Maggie

I DIDN ’ T KNOW why I left that door open, but I had and he’d followed me
right in. I probably subconsciously wanted him to follow me even though I
was very irritated with his behavior. Derek had a way of getting under my
skin, which I had forgotten about. It wasn’t at all that different from our
teenage years and dealing with his irrational fear of Curt finding out about
our make-out sessions. Except we weren’t teens, and this didn’t concern my
brother.
I yanked off the gold drop earrings and kicked my heels off. The jewelry
clanged on the counter as I dropped it, and I headed for the fridge to have a
beer before I forgot that I, in fact, could not have a beer, which only soured
my mood more. I turned around and glared at Derek. He wasn’t entirely to
blame, but this new thread of anger I’d found gave me an outlet to release
some of the hormonal roller coaster I was riding.
“Do you have to stare at me like that?” I pushed past him, heading to my
bedroom to change. The dress was uncomfortable, and I just wanted my
sweats and T-shirt. If I couldn’t have alcohol, I could snuggle up with a good
chick flick and a pint of ice cream.
Derek had other plans. He followed me, stalking angrily to my bedroom
and stopping in the doorway. “I wasn’t staring. And I think this is a bit
childish. We could just talk about what is really wrong. You are angry that I
said this is just sex and friendship. You never got over that, and you’ve been
taking it out on me for weeks now.”
I struggled with the zipper, straining to reach the clasp. My back was to
him, and I didn't want to respond to his accusation because honestly, he was
right. I hadn’t gotten over that, but I couldn’t tell him why I hadn’t gotten
over it. He didn’t want to hear that I was in love with him and that I likely
had been since we were kids.
I felt his fingers push mine out of the way as he unzipped the gown. The
cool air against my back caused goosebumps, and I stepped away from him,
turning to see his scowl had not changed despite his helpfulness.
“Are we okay? Like, our friendship?” The way he said it did not
communicate that he was feeling guilty for the way he treated me or the
things he’d said. It was more like he wondered whether I was going to call
him out on his behavior and cut him off.
And I was.
I scream-growled and stomped away, shutting myself into my walk-in
closet and away from his prying eyes as I blinked back the tears. I was so
stupid for having kept that resignation letter stored on my computer instead
of sending it. I had a plan—a good one. I was offered a job in nearby
Evansville, working for a small GP. It was far enough away to keep Derek
out of my business but close enough that I could visit Dad when I missed
home.
I peeled the dress off my body, leaving it lying on the floor in a heap, and
rifled through the closet for something to wear. My sweats and T-shirts were
in the dresser, in the room where I knew Derek was standing. He was
relentless. I knew he wouldn’t leave until I satisfied his questions.
Furious that I had to do the walk of shame to my dresser in front of him, I
peeked out the door. He was sitting on the end of my bed leaning forward,
elbows on knees, face in hands. He looked defeated, as if somehow, my anger
toward him had wounded his ego. I soaked in the enjoyment for a short
minute, reveling in the fact that he did have emotions and that I was affecting
him.
Then I felt guilty. The way he was slumped forward, looking all dejected,
I knew it was my fault. And for the number of times we’d had sex—fuck’s
sake, I was carrying his child—I had nothing to hide. So I pushed the door
open and walked out, heading straight to my dresser to find my sweats. He
was right. We had to put this damn argument to bed or I’d never move on.
As I walked past him, he snatched my wrist, forcing me to stop. “Maggie,
we can’t keep this up.”
“What? The charade that nothing is going on between us? Or the sex and
friendship?” My words stung. I released them in frustration, but they
poisoned us both. I watched his dejection morph back to anger as he stood.
He was so close to me I could feel the heat of his breath flutter across my
chest.
“That’s not fair.” His chest heaved, and his hand did not release my wrist.
“Not fair is thinking you own me, telling me I can’t quit your practice
because you need me but claiming no responsibility toward commitment
even though you want sex with me.” I tried to turn, but this time it wasn’t he
who kept me there. In a way, it was—his nearness, his scent, the way his
Adam’s apple protruded the tiniest bit farther when he was upset.
“Mags, I—”
I kissed him. Something took over, as if I were being moved by forces
outside my will, and I kissed him. I forced back the tears that wanted to
escape, silenced the cry inside my chest that wanted to beg him to love me.
Throwing myself entirely into the physical and trying to keep my emotions
out of it, I kissed him like it was the last time I would ever see him.
Derek responded immediately. The warmth of his hands on my back
comforted me, but not as much as the way he kissed me. It felt different, like
the way I was kissing him. It was a good different, more passion, less lust.
And I drank it in. His stubble scraped my jaw. His hands searched my skin.
When he played at the waistband of my panties, I encouraged him, pushing
him back until I forced him to sit back down on the foot of the bed.
“Mags, I—”
“Just kiss me, fool.” I straddled him, causing him to lie back. The room
warmed ten degrees as I draped myself across him. The buttons on his tux
shirt were tiny, difficult to manage with manicured fingernails. I needed to
feel his skin against me, and he seemed to understand.
In one fluid movement, he rolled, pinning me down and hovering over
me. He greedily bit my lower lip, letting out a growl from his chest. His body
ground against mine as he coiled his fingers in my dark tresses and deepened
the kiss. His cock was hardening with each of his movements against me. I
struggled to undo even one of his buttons and whimpered in annoyance and
reached for his belt instead, which was much easier to undo.
The button on his slacks was much easier to release, and in seconds his
cock was resting in my hand, rigid and hungry. He grunted in pleasure as I
began stroking him. With my other hand, I attempted to lift his shirt, but he
pushed my hands away as he straightened and almost tore the shirt from his
body, along with the black bowtie he had worn.
I reached for him, but he stood to remove his pants, so I took advantage
of the short separation of our bodies to slide my panties down, and before
they were at my knees, he was undressed and yanking them away from me. I
scooted up the bed to the headboard, and he crawled across the comforter like
a hungry beast, eyes near glowing with lust.
Derek slowed his pursuit long enough to let his tongue graze across my
clit, consuming the moisture between my legs in a very pleasing manner
before he advanced on me again. His rapacious touch stole away to my
breasts where he made quick work of my bra, stealing it away and exposing
my hardened nipples. His grip was firm again, savagely groping my breasts
until I almost pushed his hands away, but the way his tongue flicked over my
nipples fueled the ache in my groin.
“God, can you please fuck me now? I need you inside me.” I gripped his
sides and pulled at him. His dick nestled between my legs, the tip of it
tormenting me.
“Say you need me.” His kisses across my jawline were exquisite, or
maybe it was the fact that he had released my tits and I wasn’t cringing
anymore. The way his stubble tingled my neck made my pussy weep. “Tell
me you need me, Mags.”
He’d never said my name like that during sex before. And his tone was
different, more like a desperate soul cry than a lust-fueled craving. I sensed
his need in the way his eyes searched my face, his body arching toward me
but pulling back the second his head pushed in. “Say you need me,
Magnolia.”
“I need you.” The words came out almost a whisper, and the emotion
behind them had tears pooling in my eyes. I needed him in every way, every
second of every day, and when he sank into me and our bodies met in a
gratifying rhythm, I knew I never wanted to live without him. “I need you so
bad, Derek. Fuck, do I need you.”
The way he fit me, his cock filling me and soothing the ache inside, I
didn’t ever want anyone else. He brought me right to the edge and held me
there, teasing my pussy with gentle thrusts, followed by eager plunges into
my depth. My hands raked across his back, my body arching up to meet him
as he thrust in. The bed shook, our limbs tangling together as the serpentine
motion of his body created a smacking sound of our skin colliding. I didn’t
even care if he made me come. More than anything in the world, my heart
wanted him to say he loved me in return.
“Derek . . .” I panted, and I intended to tell him I loved him, but the way
his body moved against mine lit a fuse I couldn’t stop. My body tensed,
clenching around him, and the spring snapped, unwinding like a cheap slinky.
I sank my nails into his ass, coaxing him to go deeper, and he did. “Fuck,
it’s . . . oh, shit.” I couldn’t catch my breath. All I could do was ride the
wave.
His body was incredible, the way he moved in and against me. He didn’t
even have to say a word, and I started to tear up, the emotion of it too much.
And when he released, I felt his heat spew into me and he whispered,
“Mags . . .” into my ear. I had to clench my eyes shut and let the giddiness of
post-orgasm relaxation melt me into a puddle beneath him.
Until my stomach roiled.
Derek had no more than rolled back to the bed beside me than I was
charging for the bathroom. Dinner came up just as I dropped to my knees and
prayed to the porcelain goddess. I heaved, gripping the toilet seat, unable to
hold my hair back. The tears that flowed had preceded the vomit, but when
Derek appeared next to me, pulling my hair back as I threw up, I blamed
them on being sick.
“I told you not to eat that shrimp,” he said, offering me a wad of toilet
paper to blow my nose and wipe my mouth. I wanted to protest and tell him I
had been doing this for weeks now, but I held my tongue. He helped me to
my feet and offered me another wad of toilet paper to dry the cum from my
inner thigh where it had almost dried.
“I told you I like shrimp,” I protested as I wiped myself clean and tossed
the tissue into the toilet. “I’m going to brush my teeth.” I gestured at the
toothbrush, and he nodded, leaving me to myself. The mood was broken. I’d
never be able to tell him how I felt.
After I brushed my teeth, I skulked back to the bedroom, where I found
Derek half-dressed and putting his shoes back on. His shirt hung open, his tie
hanging around his neck. I wondered for a minute where his jacket was until I
remembered he’d left it in the limo—which was probably still waiting out
front.
I folded back the covers and crawled into bed, my stomach still raw. I
could tell by the way he was dressing that he had no intention of staying, but
I didn’t want him to leave. I watched as he silently worked each button until
he got to the tie, which he left hanging. When he stood and tucked his shirt
in, I mustered enough bravery to reach out for him.
Derek padded over to me and finished straightening the gig line of his
shirt, then sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked down at his empty
hands and then back up at my face.
“Please stay with me. I’m not feeling well.” I took his hand and laced my
fingers through his. Even if we were just friends, it would be okay, right?
Friends sometimes took care of each other when one was sick. I pleaded with
my eyes that he should stay, and he grimaced.
“I can’t, Maggie. It would be inappropriate.” He didn’t pull his hand
away, but his words drew his heart from me. “You know . . .”
I shrank back, folding my fingers together and nodding. He left without
another word, and I curled up and lay down. He would never see me as
anything more than sex, and nothing I did would change that.
It was time for me to move on.

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 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y-T H R E E

Derek

T HE STRAW SCREAMED at me as the pitchfork stabbed into it. I’d sent Evan
home for the day after Peter hadn’t shown up. I was too angry to deal with
anyone or anything else. So I took on the chore of mucking the stalls myself.
It was a steamy July day, and I’d rather have been sitting somewhere in the
shade enjoying the breeze, but someone had to take care of the horses.
I heard tires on gravel but ignored them. It was likely Peter coming to
work late, and when he showed his face, I’d let him have it. It was bad
enough that he couldn’t get a real job and had to mooch off me, but being late
to work when I was being generous enough to pay him more than double
what I was paying Hammer . . .well, that was an insult.
The barn door creaked open, and I reeled around, ready to fire off both
cannons, when I got the shock of my life. Dad stood in the doorway, holding
a plate of what looked like cookies or brownies of some sort. His powder
blue dress suit wasn’t exactly farming appropriate, and I almost snickered at
him. I would have if he hadn’t been the last person on Earth I’d want to see.
Instead, I turned my back with a mere grunt and continued hefting the soiled
straw out of the stall.
“Hello, Derek.” I could tell from the swishing of material and the sound
of his voice that he was moving closer to me. I didn’t look up. “I brought you
some sweets here. Your mother would have scolded me if I had shown up
here empty-handed.”
 I slammed the straw down into the wheelbarrow, the stench wafting out
of the stall. A glance at Dad revealed him covering his nose with the back of
his hand in disgust. He’d never been one for hard labor, preferring to read
and pray in his office day in and out. I was surprised he’d even come to the
farm. He disdained the outdoors that much.
“We should talk.”
I stabbed the pitchfork into the fresh bale of straw and turned to him,
wiping my hands down the front of my jeans. I didn’t have any reason to talk
to him, not after the last conversation when he pretty much wrote off my
concern the way he’d written Peter off.
“About?” The wheelbarrow was full, prompting me to heft it by the
handles and shuttle it out to the manure pile out back. Dad followed behind
me, but the sound of his footsteps told me he was hesitant.
“About Peter.”
The sun overhead was hot enough that I had worked up a sweat even in
the cool barn, but the minute I pushed the wheelbarrow out the back door, it
hit me just how warm it was. Dad would be sweating and ready to head out
any minute.
“What about Peter, Dad? I tried to get your help with him a few weeks
ago, and you told me you’d washed your hands of him, remember?” Flies
swarmed around the massive pile of shit and straw. The sun baked the
manure, turning it into a soupy, fly-infested mess, perfect for spreading on
crops and gardens. I dumped the fresh load on the side, shaking the
wheelbarrow to get the last bits out while Dad cringed and gagged.
“You do this every day?” He took a few steps back as the flies launched
into the air in a flurry of activity.
“Yeah, Dad. How’s that old Proverb go? ‘There’s no shit when you have
no oxen’?” I knew I had butchered it and he’d correct me, but the scowl on
his face was priceless.
“It’s Proverbs 14:4. Where no oxen are, the trough is clean; but increase
comes by the strength of an ox.”
I retreated into the shade of the barn and set the wheelbarrow near the
tack room door. “Yeah, same thing. It’s all about cleaning up after the messes
of other beings if you want them in your life. Strangely enough, I was willing
to put up with Peter while you stayed in your lofty castle. I shoveled the shit.”
Thirsty, I headed for the thermos of lemonade I had brought out with me
when I came to work. The large jug was filled to the brim with the icy drink
and calling my name. My coldness to my father hadn’t gone undetected, and
his delay in following me toward the front of the barn, combined with the
heavy sigh he offered, told me I was trying his patience.
“Peter has left town again. With whatever little money he scrounged up,
he bought a one-way ticket to Florida and called to tell me I could sell his car
and keep the money.”
I opened the thermos and had a swig, not even a little surprised to hear
that Peter had disappeared again. Why Florida, I’d never know, but at least he
was out of my hair.
“You’re going to listen to him?”
“Of course not. When he returns, he will just ask for money to buy a new
car or to borrow mine. I’ll park it in storage, and he’ll be back like always.”
I sat down on the bale of hay behind me and shook my head as I took
another swig of lemonade. “Why did you have to drive out here to tell me
that? You couldn’t have just called or texted?”
His countenance fell. “Derek, I wanted to speak to you face to face
because I love you. You’re my son.”
“You should have thought of that when you preached how awesome your
big, giant God was. When Mom was suffering from something I could have
cured with a single prescription. I had a doctor who would have prescribed it
for her, even. And for three years, you let her ignore the warnings until it was
too late.” My chest was tight. I didn’t want to have this conversation with
him, but he’d shown up unannounced.
“You don’t understand. You can’t understand. You have to believe. It’s
something you’ve never done or even tried.” He shook his head at me, and I
watched his hands curl into fists.
“You don’t understand, Dad. I’m going to get married one day, and Mom
will not be here for that. I’ll have children, and they’ll have no grandmother.
Peter is even suffering. Look at how fucked up he is! You think this isn’t all
related?” I fumed, standing and tossing my thermos back onto the hay. “If
there is a God anywhere, I guarantee you he would have told Mom to take the
fucking medicine because he gave mankind the smarts to create it.”
“Derek—”
“Tell me, Dad, would you object to my donating my entire inheritance to
a research hospital that could help find a cure for cancer? What about a
women’s medical center that would help women like Mom before it was too
late?”
 He stared at me, blinking slowly. “That’s ludicrous. That amount of
money could do so much good.”
“Why the hell can’t you see that medical science could be good?”
He looked surprised as I charged toward him, passing him by on my way
back to the pitchfork. In haste, I plunged the fork into the clean straw and
broke it up, spreading it around the stall. My anger was in check. I’d never
harm him seriously, but I might give him a hard backhand if he didn’t just
leave. So I kept my back to him until I heard the car door shut and the engine
start up. Then I collapsed back against the stall door and heaved out a sigh.
The door shifted, throwing off my balance, and I used the pitchfork to
catch myself. As frustrated as I was, I should have been trying to relax, but I
spent the next hour mucking out the rest of the stalls while the horses grazed.
By the time I’d finished, I had stewed over the encounter so much I couldn’t
think.
For months now, every time I got upset about this situation, I had turned
to Maggie to help me calm down. She’d point out how I was seeing
something incorrectly or validate my emotions, and I’d feel better. Or we’d
have sex, which inevitably helped me calm down too. But Maggie had called
into work sick on Monday and every day this week. I knew she was ill after
the dinner last weekend, so I didn’t want to bother her.
I collected my thermos and headed for the house, walking the outside of
the pasture fence. Part of me wanted to call Maggie, not because I wanted sex
but because I wanted her company. Leaving her in that bed when she felt sick
was a difficult choice. I knew weeks ago that I was falling in love with her,
and I tried lying to myself so I wouldn’t threaten my career or reputation.
Now I was beginning to realize exactly why I had been pushing her away. It
had more to do with my mother than I’d thought possible.
I sat down on the front porch swing, thinking about my father’s visit.
Mom had made her choices all on her own—choices that had affected all of
us differently. But it had affected me in a way I hadn’t seen until just now.
Mom’s decision to refuse treatment and “go home”, as she would say, left me
without hope. She left us.
She left me.
And what if I told Maggie I loved her and she left me too?

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 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y-F O U R

Maggie

T HE BOXES WERE HEAVIER than I should have been lifting—I knew that—but
Curt was taking forever, and Dad put his back out last week gardening. I
didn’t want that on my conscience, so I carried as many as I could into the
moving van. I’d taken the entire week off work to prepare for this and
scheduled my resignation notice to arrive in Barbra’s email first thing
Monday morning—after I was away and settled into my new place.
Curt passed by me with an armful of my clothing as I headed back into
the house for another box. Dad sat on the sole chair left in the dining room, a
straggler that hadn’t sold with the rest of my other large furniture. Once I
listed the items on my Facebook, they went like hotcakes. The new place was
fully furnished. I didn’t need any of this, anyway.
Dad sighed and frowned as I reached for another box. There were only a
few left, but I refused to let him help. “I wish you would reconsider staying
with me. You don’t need to work. I can take care of things. It’s obvious
something is bothering you.”
“Dad.” I smiled and patted his hand. “I’ll be fine, really. I have a job lined
up in Evansville. It’s only a few hours’ drive.”
The box was heavier than I thought, and I strained to lift it, letting out a
grunt. Curt swooped in and took it from me, hefting it effortlessly. “Who is
going to unpack you when you get there?” He frowned. “Please let me come
and see you out.” He stood with the box tucked under one arm and balanced
on his hip.
Shaking my head, I reached for the next box and picked it up. “No, really.
I’m fine. I have some relocation allowance from the new job, so I’ll hire a
few strong, handsome men to heft these things and enjoy the eye candy.” I
winked at him and sidestepped him, heading out to the van. It was difficult
being my normal chipper self with the fake smile and all the bubbliness in the
world. I didn’t want to leave, but I had no choice.
Curt followed on my heels as I strolled down the walk to the moving van.
The moving company would send a guy to drive it, so I was only responsible
to load it and have it ready to hit the road by three o’clock. At least it was
nice weather, not excruciatingly hot like yesterday.
“Mags, you only just came back home.” Curt placed his box in the van
and turned to me, taking the box from my hands. “Why are you rushing off
again? Dad and I miss you.”
I shrugged and dusted my hands on my slacks. My stomach rumbled,
reminding me that I hadn’t eaten anything yet today. I’d done that on
purpose, knowing the morning sickness would only have me tossing my
cookies in front of them. It was bad enough that they insisted on helping me
pack the van. They didn’t need to see me sick and assume that I was actually
ill.
“Listen, there are just too many ghosts in this town. I need a fresh start.
It’s not like I’m moving halfway around the world. Evansville is close. You
can come visit whenever you want.” I stepped up onto the curb, heading back
toward the house. I knew he had a point. Dad was getting older now, and
with his retirement only a year ago, he likely wanted to spend more time with
his children. I just didn’t know how to face down the problems I was up
against.
“Mags, what did you tell Derek? Did he support your move? Is it good for
your career?” Curt’s voice trailed after me as I tried to evade that entire
subject. Derek didn’t even know I was quitting yet, and I had no idea how to
broach the subject at all. Not with him—not with Curt.
“Uh, well, I don’t need his approval for my career move. So, yeah . . . and
he’s just my boss.”
“So, what do I tell him when you’re not at my ultra-cool parties?” Curt
chuckled but I grimaced. Derek would call Curt. He’d ask prying questions. I
was certain of it. I was glad I hadn’t said anything about the baby to anyone
because if Derek knew, he would be so determined to follow me there would
be nothing I could say to defend my choices. If Curt and Dad knew, they
would never let me move away. And neither of them would keep my
confidence.
I felt the weight of the massive secret trying to suffocate me and
subconsciously brushed my hand over my stomach. I was already almost
twelve weeks. Any day, I’d start showing and have to swap my comfortable
baggy clothing for maternity clothes. I wanted to be as far away from here as
possible when that moment happened and prayed like hell that Dad and Curt
didn’t want to visit me.
“You can tell him nothing. My resignation indicates that I’ve gotten
another job. Derek will understand. We’re only friends.” My bitterness leaked
out into my tone, and Curt eyed me but said nothing.
We loaded the rest of the boxes into the car just as the cleaning company
arrived to handle the clean-up. I handed over the keys, certain I’d get my
money back out of the place. The realtor would list the home this week
sometime, and I would have the full week to unpack before starting my new
job a week from Monday. It was bittersweet being home, but just sweet
leaving. Derek didn’t want me, so why would he want a baby hanging
around?
I kissed Dad and gave Curt a hug. “I’ll come home to visit for Christmas.
I promise.”
“If you need anything at all, you call us.” Dad squeezed my hand, and I
saw for the first time how his age was catching up with him. He was in his
seventies and still vibrant, but with the way his skin had thinned out, the little
wisps of hair almost gone from the top of his head, I knew he would need
more care soon.
“I love you, Daddy. I’ll call, okay?” I gave him another kiss and climbed
into my car. As I pulled out and waved, I felt the tears coming on. I had never
cried so much in my whole life, not even when Mom died. I was the strong
one, the one who put on a smile to make others happy when tragic things
happened. I knew it was just the pregnancy hormones, but it hurt too.
I headed south, toward my new home and job. Derek’s smile played on
my thoughts. I knew part of him wanted something with me. We’d had a
connection since high school, and it was obvious that I turned him on. He just
wouldn’t get over his damn hang-up about dating an employee. I had to
respect that. He could likely score a position higher up in obstetrics at the
hospital if he played his cards right. And my being there would only
complicate things—especially when I started showing and we were forced to
tell people I was pregnant.
No.
I had to protect him and his future. And I had to respect his wishes. I
wouldn’t selfishly demand that he love me at the expense of his career. My
leaving was the only option.

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 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y-F I V E

Derek

I MANAGED to make it all weekend without calling Maggie. Dad’s surprise

visit had ruffled my feathers, but I had calmed myself on my own. So what if
I’d jerked off to the image of her sucking my dick? I had resisted the
temptation to continue the cycle of using her as a means for release because I
had finally made the decision that she was worth so much more than that to
me.
My parking space was empty, directly beneath the massive oak tree in
front of the hospital near the main entrance. Maggie usually parked next to
me, but her car was not there yet. I lingered in the car a bit, watching the
minutes tick by. I bought her a coffee, decaf but dressed the way she liked it,
so I hoped to walk her in. I hadn’t checked to see if she was feeling better,
but it had been more than a week, so I fully expected her to be in this
morning.
After nearly twenty minutes of waiting, I decided to head in. I’d have
patients waiting on me if I was late, and I hated starting my day feeling
rushed. Gus, the welcome host at the information desk, smiled and waved as I
passed, two coffees in hand. My laptop bag hung from my shoulder, a letter
handwritten and addressed to Maggie tucked in the outer pocket. I was awful
with words, but I’d taken the time to tell her how I felt, and it took me four
tries to get it right.
In the office, I weaved through the busy waiting room, patients already
lined up. Barbra grimaced at me, and I made the assumption that it was
because I was running late. I avoided her lecture by heading straight to
Maggie’s office. I knew I’d be in with a patient in a matter of minutes, so I
left the coffee and the letter centered on her desk. After checking that no one
was looking, I picked up the lone scarf left draped over her chair and smelled
it. Lilac and honey—just like her.
As I left Maggie’s office, Tammy passed by me, escorting Brita Fisher to
exam room one. Brita smiled at me, her belly finally popping out a little. A
first-time mom who chose our practice specifically because of the nutritional
support, I was more thankful than ever that Maggie had joined us. I dropped
my bag and slurped some of my steaming drink just in time to see Tammy’s
face appear in my door.
“Ms. Fisher is waiting, Doc.”
I raised my cup in acknowledgement and smiled, taking the file from her
hands. In one appointment and out of the next, my day ran away with me. I
didn’t even have a chance to peek in and say hi to Maggie until almost lunch
time. And when I did, the office was empty. The coffee was cold, the letter
untouched. Gypsy saw me standing at the door looking like a lost puppy. She
strolled up to me and pulled me in, shutting the door.
“Barb didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” My mind went back to the grimace on her face as I
walked in. I had avoided her on purpose, thinking she was going to chastise
me for providing such a horrible example.
Gypsy’s quivering lip gave me my first hint that something was wrong. I
glanced at the coffee and letter, collecting my second clue. But when Gypsy
made her announcement, it still blindsided me.
“She’s gone, Doc. Maggie took a job somewhere else. She didn’t leave a
forwarding address. She didn’t even say where the new job was.” I could see
the disappointment in Gypsy’s eyes. It probably mirrored mine. Maggie
hadn’t just been a fling of mine. She was a valuable member of our team, and
she was a friend to everyone here. Her absence would hit everyone hard. That
likely explained the somber mood everyone had been in all morning.
“Did she say why?” I headed for the door. I needed to speak to Barb
directly. Gypsy followed, her hurried steps hastening my search.
“No, she didn’t say why. I assume better money or whatever. She hasn’t
returned my calls or texts. Do you want me to ask her? I’m sure she’ll pick up
eventually. She’s probably at her new job and can’t talk.”
 My mind raced. Had she given me any more clues? I remembered her
resignation letter on her computer, but she had addressed that to me and
Barbra. I hadn’t gotten an email from her this morning. I always checked my
email before I even got out of bed in the morning. And things seemed fine,
right up until the dinner we went to for the children’s hospital. We had
argued, but I didn’t think it was that bad. We’d had sex, but I couldn’t stay
with her. That was the last time we spoke. What on earth had happened?
“Barb?” I searched the break room, then her office, then headed to the
check-in desk. Only two patients remained in the outer office and both of
them were waiting to check in. Both of them had appointments with Maggie.
Tammy was busy, but she called over her shoulder, “Barb went for lunch
already, Doc.” She turned her attention back to the women in line, and I
heard her explaining how Maggie was not in for the day and that they’d have
to reschedule. As I backed up, I ran into Gypsy, who hovered around me like
a small, annoying dog.
“Sorry . . . ” She moved to the side and let me pass. “So, do you? Want
me to ask her what’s going on?”
“No.” I scowled, ducking into my office. This wasn’t middle school. I
didn’t need a friend of a friend to chase down the reason I was being slighted.
“If she didn’t want us to know, that’s fine.” I shut the door in Gypsy’s face,
maybe a little harder than I should have. I’d apologize later. She didn’t
deserve to carry the brunt of my frustration.
I had the urge to run into her office and take the letter back so Gypsy
didn’t read it, but I felt glued to the floor. I had been such an asshole to her,
kept her at arm’s length and made it seem like I felt nothing. In reality, I was
feeling strong things, things I didn’t want to admit that I felt because it would
mean I had to be vulnerable again. Maggie had done nothing but care for me,
be there, listen, and support me, and now she was gone.
I pulled out my cell and sat at my desk, my thumb swiping through my
contacts to find Curt’s. But the moment I saw his contact image, I knew I
couldn’t call and ask him what happened. If I pursued any thread like that
with him, he’d ask what I was so interested in her for. He’d be irate that I was
calling after her and eventually, he’d put the pieces together. I growled and
locked my phone, tossing it onto my desk.
I didn’t have the right to open that can of worms without letting Maggie
decide whether she wanted it open. For all I knew, she was moving on to be
with someone else because I hadn’t told her how I really felt. If I told Curt
about the relationship—whatever it was—it would be breaching her trust and
his.
My heart dropped. It was too late. She was gone now. I would have no
way of knowing how to get in touch with her or let her know how I felt. I sat
back, tapping my finger on my desktop, feeling my heart shatter. She had
been right there within my reach, and I blew it, all because I was too prideful
to admit that I might need her.
What did I do?

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 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y- S I X

Maggie

I SAT ANXIOUSLY BOUNCING my foot in the waiting room. It had been a few
months since I moved, and I was settling in just fine. Today’s baby checkup
was also sonogram day. The doctor had heard what she thought were two
heartbeats and scheduled a sonogram to be certain. I was nervous. I could
barely process the idea of being a mother to one baby, but now there was a
likelihood that it was twins.
“Cameron.” The nurse’s smiling face appeared in the door, and a blonde
stood and strolled over to her, disappearing into the void. Based on my
calculations of who was sitting in this tiny room when I walked in and who
had left, I was next.
I looked down at my hands, picking at my fingernails. It was a bad habit I
had developed a while back and I never got rid of it. It gave me something to
do when my mind wouldn’t shut off and I needed to force a smile. Picking
my fingernails didn’t make my troubles any less. It just made it easier to
distract myself.
“Magnolia.” Hearing my name, I looked up. The same cheery-faced
woman with the clipboard stood in the doorway looking right at me. I’d only
had one other appointment in this office, and it was very uncomfortable
because the doctor had lectured me that I hadn’t been getting the prenatal
care I needed.
I blamed myself because of my fear of Derek finding out, but that didn’t
explain how I’d been settled into Evansville long enough to have gotten a
primary care physician. I just hadn’t. There was no excuse. Derek would have
been furious with me if he knew. Which was why I hadn’t told him.
I stood and strolled her way, and she started off toward an exam room.
When I walked in, there was a large sonogram machine parked next to the
table. The nurse gestured at the table and said, “Have a seat.” She set her
clipboard down on the counter and folded a few sheets of paper to the back,
scanning with her finger. “Twenty weeks, right? Time to see this baby of
yours.” She sounded excited, as if she had a personal stake in my pregnancy.
“Yes, I’m sort of nervous. I guess the doctor thinks maybe I’m having
twins.” I shrugged as I dropped my purse on the seat and climbed up onto the
table. The nurse slid the blood pressure cuff on my arm and pressed her
stethoscope to my inner elbow. After she had checked my pressure, she
scribbled something down in my chart and smiled at me.
“Can I have you lie down? You might want to scoot all the way up there,
so your head is on the pillow.” Her name tag read Sarah, and I smiled,
thinking about my mother. Her sister’s name was Sarah. After helping me get
positioned on the bed, Sarah walked over to the sink and washed her hands.
She called over her shoulder, “No dad today?”
I was certain she was just being friendly and trying to make me feel more
comfortable, given the fact that I’d confessed my anxious thoughts. I,
however, was instantly deflated. No dad . . . ever. Derek didn’t have a
thought in the world about me and wouldn’t ever again. I had left him behind,
but I knew I’d never move on. Not with this little one—or two—growing
inside me.
“No, no dad. He’s not really in the picture.” That had become my mantra
lately. Every time someone I met made a passing comment about how “Dad
must be so excited,” or “He’ll be daddy’s little boy.” I had enough practice
now to smile through the discomfort.
“Oh, sorry to hear that.” Sarah dried her hands and put on some gloves,
then turned the machine on. It whined to life, the fan inside it the only sound
in the room for a few seconds. Sarah must have felt bad for bringing up
“Dad”.
I folded my shirt up, exposing the large baby bump that had developed in
the past eight weeks. The cold gel she squeezed onto my belly made me
cringe. The room was the perfect temperature, but that just felt like ice. And
the minute she touched the paddle to my stomach, the sound of a perfect tiny
heartbeat reverberated out of the speakers. It brought a smile to my face.
“Look there, a strong little heartbeat.” She maneuvered the paddle
around, spreading the cold gel. It was torturous, but hearing the little
heartbeat encouraged me. She took measurements and pointed the machine in
my direction so I could see. When she stopped and typed in Baby B into the
machine, I felt my chest tighten. “Looks like the doc was right. We have two
little ones here. Both of them look really healthy.”
I was in shock. I stared at that screen as she showed me two perfect
heartbeats. Two sets of tiny hands and feet. As if my world weren’t going to
change enough, I’d been dealt a loaded hand. The nurse talked to me, but I
wasn't listening. My mind was lost in the overwhelming confirmation that I
was now a mother to two unborn babies—not one.
“Magnolia?” I looked up at her compassionate face. “Would you like to
know the sexes?”
Sarah offered a smile, but I could only blink back my emotion. I nodded.
Knowing what I was having would save me a bit of money in the long run.
No wasted funds on pink outfits if they were both boys. I watched as she
swirled the paddle around until she was poking me in the ribs.
“Baby A is a girl! Congratulations.” Sarah continued working the
machine, but my heart swelled. I was going to have a girl. “And a boy! Baby
B is a boy.”
I covered my face with both hands and closed my eyes. This was all too
much. I had so much to think about now. I had been shocked to find out I was
pregnant—my fault for putting my desire for Derek ahead of my own future.
By the time the hour-long sonogram was complete, I was a flustered wreck.
Pregnancy had done a number on my resilience, and the hormones made it
difficult to paste a smile on my face, but I did it. The second I got into my
car, I dialed Gypsy’s number.
“Mags, oh, my God, it’s been like two months. What is going on? Where
are you?” Leave it to Gypsy to be so dramatic.
“I’m safe, okay? I moved to Evansville. I got a job with a GP here.” I
sighed. “Just don’t tell anyone, alright?” I heard some rustling and the sound
of a microwave beeping and glanced at my clock. She must have been in the
breakroom at work. I forgot totally about the time of day.
“Listen,” she hissed, “everyone is asking where you are. Derek is so
sullen all the time. We haven’t been able to replace you because everyone
Barb tries to bring in, he shoots down.”
 It felt good to know I was missed, but I doubted it had anything to do
with his having feelings for me.
“I’m sorry I left a hole there. Please, Gypsy. Don’t tell anyone.”
“I’m not, I swear, but you should see this place. Even Barb is moody on
the daily.” I heard her talking, but she had covered her phone mic with
something. When she came back, I heard his voice in the background. My
heart fluttered, and I shut it down. I didn’t have the time or energy to get
emotional about him right now. “What made you call?”
Derek’s voice in the background faded away, and I could tell she had left
the room.
“I’m having twins, Gyps. My God, I’m seriously freaking out. I just got
confirmation today.” I leaned back in my car seat and rested my head, eyes
closed. “As if one baby wouldn’t have been hard enough. Why did the gods
have to do this to me?”
She clicked her tongue. “Mags, I told you. Just fucking tell the father. He
should be helping you.”
“I can’t do that,” I whined. It was unbecoming, but Gypsy was a friend
and I’d shut her out for long enough. I needed encouragement and support,
and I hadn’t found a single person I connected with in Evansville. “It would
not turn out well.”
“You need me to come visit? I can come spend the weekend or
something. We can get our nails done and eat ice cream.”
I thought about it. It wouldn’t be horrible if I had a friend to talk to. I just
didn’t want Derek to find out where I was. That was the last thing I needed.
Things would get too messy, and fast.
“Okay, but you have to swear you will tell no one. Not even Derek. No
one knows where I am.” I bit my lip.
“I swear.”
I had anxiety sending her my address, but I trusted that she understood
how delicate my situation was and would keep my confidence. If she didn’t, I
was in trouble—and so was Derek.

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 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y- S E V E N

Derek

“S O , do you think you’ll come?” Curt’s invitation felt like a strange ironic
twist to my life which was not going at all how I wanted. Saying goodbye to
Maggie would have been difficult—that much I would admit. But not having
gotten to explain what I really felt before she left, right when I had the
epiphany that I wanted more with her—that was torture. Now, Curt wanted
me to attend a party with the same group of friends, in the same place where I
first started realizing there was something there.
“I don’t know, man.” I leaned back in my chair, watching the sports
headlines scroll across the bottom of the TV screen. “Will Maggie be there?”
I was fishing, but I tried to make it sound like I was just questioning his guest
list. So I added, “Brittani, Steph, or James?”
“Yeah, the gang will be there. Not Mags, though.” Curt sounded a little
hurt. “She moved.”
“Moved?” I played stupid. The less he thought I knew, the more
information I could get casually. If Maggie had told her brother not to discuss
her new life plans with me and I pressed it, he would get suspicious. I played
it cool.
“Yeah, she didn’t tell you? Of course, she didn’t tell you. She acted weird
on the day she moved.” I tried to imagine Curt helping Maggie pack boxes in
a moving van. They probably had words about me, at least as her boss and
the notice she’d have had to give me.
 “I mean, we got her notice but no plans. What’s going on?”
Now I was prying. It was only natural that as a family friend, I’d be
interested in what was going on with her. Maggie may have tried to keep
everything a secret, but for three months I’d been on the hunt, waiting and
hoping I’d somehow find a way to contact her.
“Yeah, she took some job in Evansville. Said there were too many
‘ghosts’ here in Yellow Springs. Listen, you coming or not?” Curt was
relentless, but he’d given me the exact answer I needed. Maggie had moved
to Evansville.
“Nah, man. I can’t make this one. Maybe next time. Alright? Listen,
something came up and I gotta run. I hope the party goes well.”
Before he’d even hung up, I was typing into my phone’s internet browser.
Evansville was just under two hours away, so far enough to put distance
between her and me, but still close enough to be around for her family. Just
like her to make a plan like that. My heart felt energized now, like I could
breathe again.
I pulled up the Wikipedia page for Evansville and saw the population and
square miles of the town were less than half the size of Yellow Springs. They
had a hospital too, a dinky one that was hardly more than a Band-Aid station,
but it was something. When my searches became frustrating on my phone, I
strolled to my home office and sat behind the computer.
After more than an hour of searching, I found a link to the careers page
for the hospital. They were looking for a new director for their obstetrics
department. The pay was about half what I was making here at Mercy
General as an OB, and despite the title I’d have, it would really be a
demotion. Here, I was in queue to be director someday, already the head of
the department.
A year ago, that would have mattered. Hell, six months ago, that would
have mattered. But now, the only thing I could think about was finding her
and telling her I loved her. I had been such an idiot to treat her so poorly, and
every day that passed, I had to face the fact that I had messed it up. I didn’t
even know if she felt the same way as me, but I had to at least find her now
and tell her how I felt. Even if she had moved on—or never had feelings for
me to begin with—she had to know.
I filled out that application and added my resume, then sent an email to a
friend of mine who sat on the board of the health group that owned the
hospital. If he could pull some strings and get me in, I’d have a great way to
at least be in the same city as Maggie. The chances of our somehow running
into each other would be high.

T WO WEEKS LATER ...

I WATCHED as Patrick Larger shut the door behind himself as he left my

office. I had just offered him the position as attending physician over my
current patient roster in my absence as I took on the new role of interim
director of obstetrics at Hudson Valley Medical Center. The board at Mercy
knew I was taking a six-week sabbatical here to open a new practice there,
and I had told everyone else that I was taking some time off work. They
didn’t need to know what I was doing.
I found a nice studio apartment to rent for cheap, fully furnished too,
which made it easy to move. Hammer would care for my horses and home.
Peter was out of town. The only person left to inform was my father.
I held the phone to my ear waiting for him to pick up. It was a Sunday
afternoon, so it was likely he was rubbing elbows with parishioners. Part of
me hoped that he would support my decision, even if he didn’t know what
had motivated it. The spur of the moment application had been catalyzed by
my need to see Maggie, but over the past few weeks, I’d put thought into it.
Evansville was close enough to have my practice extended and run two
offices.
Not only was it a good move for my career, but it would offer more
excellent medical care to a community sorely in need. I’d even tossed around
the idea of helping them spruce up their birthing suites with the money I had
just sitting in a bank drawing interest.
“Derek?” Dad sounded a bit concerned. That was likely due to the fact
that I never called, so if I did, there was usually bad news. “Is everything
alright?”
“Yeah, Dad. I’m calling with some good news.” He seemed to heave out
a sigh of relief, and I continued. “I’m going to spend some time in Evansville.
The hospital there needed an interim director while they search for the perfect
candidate, and I accepted the position.”
“Well . . . ” The background noise on the line got quieter, as if Dad were
walking away from a commotion or something. He didn’t say anything else. I
wasn’t sure how to take his response. It wasn’t that I needed his approval. As
a grown man, I didn’t need my father to pat me on the back. And as I sat
there in the silence, I didn’t even know why I’d bothered calling him.
“Anyway, I’m going to expand my practice to Evansville.”
“Don’t you think that’s a waste of your time? You should expand to the
south. Move to the city. That makes more sense.” I heard a door shut and
some shuffling. “Why Evansville?”
I sighed. There was no way to tell him why I had really chosen
Evansville. If I planned to open up about my feelings for Maggie, I had to do
it to her first.
“Dad, the wealthy folks in the city aren’t the only ones who need good
medical care. Evansville doesn’t have a strong birthing unit. They still deliver
babies in regular hospital rooms. If I go there, I can make a difference and
bring more advanced care to the women of that region.”
I knew the lecture that was coming before I even asked, but I asked
anyway. “Would you support me if I chose to invest my inheritance into
helping the hospital build a state of the art birthing center?”
“Oh, Derek.” I heard the disappointment in his voice. He didn’t need to
go on, but he did. “Your mother would roll over in her grave. You know what
she believed. Cursed is the man who makes the flesh his strength.”
“Dad, I get it. Okay, never mind. I’ll let you go. I just thought you’d like
to know what was new in my life. I’ll chat later.” I hung up before he got the
opportunity to lay into me. It was fine that he didn’t want to support me. It
just hurt that he brought Mom into this too. I bet wherever Mom was—
heaven, hell, the cosmos, a hole in the fucking ground—if she was still
speaking today, she would be saying ,“Build the healthcare center and save
lives.”
I took a deep, cleansing breath and blew it out. My focus had to be on this
new office in Evansville. And Maggie. Finding Maggie was top priority. I
was one step closer to doing that now.

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 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y-E I G H T

Maggie – Five Months Later . . .

O FFICE BANTER HEATED up pretty quickly. The new guy, Phillip, a

pediatrician with a huge heart, had a way with the ladies. The office was
small, just Phillip and Doctor Rhoads—a GP—and that made it feel like
home. I had settled into this new life, but I thought of Derek every day.
Especially at lunch time.
My fries were a bit soggy, the result of sitting beneath a heating lamp in
their own grease for too long. I listened to Phillip as he spoke to Dr. Rhoads
and Sheila, the nurse. He told a story of how he’d spotted a heart defect in a
two-month-old that had gone undetected during the mother’s entire gestation.
I found myself so smitten by the story that I was glued.
“So, what happened?” Sheila and I were friendly, but nothing like Gypsy
and I had been or still were. I was grateful for the light conversation, but I
wished my best friend were there.
“So I tell the OB who cared for the mother during pregnancy, and we
check out the sonogram. Her tech missed it. We barely saved that kid’s life.
The parents were so grateful. It makes the long hours and hard days so worth
it, you know?” Philip finished his story and smiled at me. Unlike other men
who would be arrogant and brag about the accomplishment, I got the feeling
that Philip was genuinely humbled by the experience. I loved that.
“Well, I’m going to get back in there.” Dr. Rhoads stood and took his
trash with him. “I have a few patients this afternoon I need to prepare for.
Some charts to look over. Sheila, did you see that Betty Gardner is back?
She’s still having that blood pressure issue. Call in to the pharmacy and see if
they can offer her an increased dosage starting today, and if not, we need to
call around to neighboring cities.” He pushed his chair in beneath the
breakroom table. “That is just a miracle, Phillip. I’m so glad you’re on our
team.”
With a smile, Dr. Rhoads walked out and Sheila rose to follow him.
“See you all after a bit.” She took her Tupperware container with the
remnants of her home-cooked lunch and scurried after the doctor like she was
a puppy nipping at his heels.
“Dr. Rhoads is right, Phillip. That is an incredible story.” I smiled and
picked up my cup of diet soda. The babies moved, jostling my stomach and
making me squirm. I splayed a hand on my stomach and felt them move.
“It’s really just a miracle I heard the heart murmur. How far along are
you?” Phillip crumpled his sandwich wrapper up and threw it at the trash can,
sinking it like a three-point shot.
“Um, let me think. I’m about thirty weeks, but I’m having twins, so I’m
almost there.” His smile was dazzling. I found myself feeling attracted to
him, wondering if he would ever take interest in a single mother of twins.
“That’s so great. Dad must be so proud.”
I shrugged. Was that his way of feeling me out, seeing if I was dating
someone? Part of my heart shied away from the answer at first, hesitant. I
loved Derek. But Derek had made it clear to me on a number of occasions
that I was free sex and nothing more. The thought of that was so discouraging
that I blurted out the truth.
“Dad’s not in the picture.” I collected the fry container and wadded up the
wax paper from my sandwich, tossing them into the takeout bag. I stood,
leaning on the back of the chair for balance. Phillip seemed to notice me
struggling and grabbed my elbow to help me straighten.
“It’s a shame when a man doesn’t want to take care of such an incredibly
attractive woman like yourself.” He steadied me and then picked up my trash.
I didn’t know how to respond to him. I didn’t think pregnancy was very
attractive on me, but that likely had more to do with my frustration with
Derek and less to do with my self-confidence.
He must have noticed my reluctance to agree with his compliment. “I
mean it, Magnolia. Maybe it’s not workplace appropriate, but I am very
attracted to you. Maybe we can catch dinner tonight and see where that
leads?” I followed him as he strolled toward the trash can and waited as he
gestured for me to go through the door first.
“Uh, dinner sounds nice. I’m pretty tired, though. Making babies with
your body is a whole lot of work. Can we plan another day?” I blushed. I felt
the heat in my cheeks and the arousal growing between my legs. Phillip had
only been around the office a few weeks, long enough to get a feel for his
personality, and there was nothing to make me think he would be a horrible
person, but my heart still shrank back, despite the attraction I felt. I was
carrying Derek’s babies.
And I loved him—even if he wanted nothing to do with me.
“Sure.” Phillip excused himself, disappearing into the office, and I slunk
into the bathroom to dry the puddle in my panties. It had been months since
I’d felt aroused. Months since I’d even thought of sex.
Unfortunately, the damage was done. Phillip had started the juices
flowing and made it difficult for me to concentrate on my work the rest of the
day. I felt embarrassed by my utter lack of self-control thinking about how
good an orgasm would feel. I finished my workday early, cutting out after my
last patient and heading home at three. The office didn’t close until five, but I
wasn’t needed. And Friday was my day off, so I would get a reprieve from
answering Phillip’s request for at least three days.
My back hurt. It had been hurting all day, low in the back between my
hips. I decided a hot bath would feel nice, so I started the water and shed my
clothing. The tub began to fill, and I began to remember how nice it felt to
feel aroused like that. My mind didn’t go where I thought it might, though.
Phillip had started the sensations, but it was Derek I wanted.
When the tub was full, I slid beneath the warmth of the water and relaxed,
but the urge to touch myself didn’t go away. I tried to fight it, but when I
closed my eyes, thinking maybe that would help, all I could do was imagine
Derek’s hand dipping into that water and sinking between my legs. My hand
instinctively touched, sliding across my clit and feeling the slick lubrication,
the slightest difference in viscosity from the water around it.
Once I started, I couldn’t stop. My pussy ached so bad, I needed to come.
My bathroom transformed into Derek’s, my fingers into his. I pictured him
kneeling there beside that tub, massaging my clit. My body shuddered as I
imagined him sinking fingers into me and pushed my own in. His kisses
raked over my chest and round stomach, his teeth returning to tease my
nipples. I pinched a nipple and rolled it beneath my fingers, simulating the
sensation of him sucking and playing with it.
The way I felt, I knew I’d come easily, even without my toys. It had been
so long, but I wanted to be filled. Frantically, my eyes searched the area
around me. If I climbed out of the bath and dried off just to get my vibrator,
I’d lose all this momentum, and I wanted something faster. My eyes locked
on a shampoo bottle, round but not too thick. I snatched it without a second
thought.
The bottle wasn’t at all like my toy—or Derek’s dick—but it did the trick.
With one hand I pushed the bottle into my pussy, and with the other I rubbed
my clit in a circular motion. In my head, Derek was in me, pumping his cock
as deep as he could. Each time I begged him, “Fuck me deeper,” I forced the
bottle in harder. My muscles clenched around it, making it difficult to thrust
into myself, and I wondered if when he was fucking me, he had to fight to
push into me like that.
The thought tipped me over the edge—Derek’s ass muscles clenching as
he drove his hips forward, thrusting his cock into me so deeply it hurt. My
body spasmed, the water sloshing a bit as I came. I squeezed that bottle so
hard I thought the lid would pop off. My eyes rolled back in my head, and
every trace of the imagination I had vanished. I was left with glorious waves
of convulsions that made my pussy scream for more.
I slid that bottle in and out of myself, wishing it were him, until my body
calmed. Then I let go, relaxing my hands to my sides until the bottle slid out
of me on its own and floated to the surface of the bathwater. I laid my head
back on the rim of the bath, letting the feeling of relaxation kick in through
every fiber of my being. It was incredibly peaceful.
Until my stomach started to hurt.
I rested my hand on my baby bump and felt my entire abdomen rock hard
and drawn up. My eyes popped open, and I stared at the solid mass that was
my belly. One of the babies squirmed, causing so much pain I thought I’d
scream, but the moment passed and my stomach relaxed. I tried to relax
again, but I couldn't. I felt crampy. My back hurt worse than ever.
After several more episodes just like that, I decided the bath was not my
friend. I climbed out and dried off, leaving the water to drain out. My bed
offered me some slight comfort, and eventually, the worst of the cramps went
away, but my back never stopped hurting. I vowed to myself that if I woke up
during the night in pain or if the cramps returned, I’d call my doctor.
I just wasn’t ready for babies yet. I felt like I needed more time.
OceanofPDF.com
 C H A P T E R T W E N T Y-N I N E

Derek

R ICK S ANCHEZ , hospital CEO, sat across from me grinning like a fool. The
news couldn’t have been better. A wealthy investor had heard of the
hospital’s need for an update in their maternity ward, and after digging,
discovered I had been hired as interim director. Said investor had graciously
offered to build an entire new mothers birthing center.
“Rick, that’s incredible. Did they say when they will break ground? Out
the east side of the building?” I was gobsmacked. After settling into the new
job for the past four months or so, I had put a lot of thought into the prospect
of doing the same thing. So to see someone believe in this place as much as I
did was incredible.
“Yeah, the east side. And they are working with an architect now. If we
get approval from the zoning commission, we will break ground in April.”
Rick smacked his hands on his lap and stood.
I counted silently the number of months until that date, putting us at five
months out. With Christmas only a few weeks away and the weather getting
downright frigid, it made sense to wait until spring. I rose with him, thinking
I was seeing him out of my office so I could tend to other business. I didn’t
realize he had more to say.
“So, would you like to meet him?” If it were possible, Rick’s smile got
bigger. I felt like I was looking at the face of a proud father only seconds
after his newborn entered the world.
 “Wait. What?” My jaw dropped. “He’s here?”
Rick stepped into the concourse, and I followed him toward the elevators.
He explained how the investor had gotten the idea months ago and had been
in contact with him, and only recently had they finally decided to go ahead. I
was amazed. For those same months, I’d done my job as a doctor and as the
director. I’d spent time securing an office space for my practice and finding a
local OB and CNM to share the space with me.
My days had been spent working hard, networking with other doctors and
professionals and building my career—same as the past. My nights, however,
had been spent hanging out in grocery stores, the library, cafés, and any other
place I thought Maggie might mysteriously appear. I hadn’t seen or heard of
her once. I even asked around a bit, but no one had heard of her except for
one orderly who had gone to high school with her. I knew more about her
recent history than he did.
We stepped onto the elevator, and Rick pushed the button for the third
floor, where our conference rooms were. I felt honored to meet the man but a
bit nervous at the same time. I knew the hospital was searching for a
permanent director, but as the interim director, it was my responsibility to
represent the entire health network. That was a huge responsibility.
“He said he’s eager to meet you, even if you will not be taking the
position permanently—which I still hope you will.” Rick elbowed me gently
then continued. “I’m sure you will get along with him just fine. For the time
being, he will work with you and the architects to lay out everything you
think the hospital will need for its new wing. The state-of-the-art equipment
and all the latest science, all yours to select.” He pushed open the door of the
elevator when it went slower than he expected, then stepped out.
“You will have to stay within the budget set by him, but given the
numbers he tossed around, I’m certain we can go all out. And” —Rick thrust
open the double doors that led to the suite of conference rooms— “best of all,
you already know each other, so you should have no trouble feeling very
comfortable.”
“Know each other?” I looked at him in confusion then started racking my
brain. I didn’t know anyone wealthy enough to donate enough money to build
an entire hospital wing except myself. I wasn’t being prideful in my
assessment. I just knew my inheritance was quite large, and I knew how
much hospitals cost to build or even remodel.
“Go ahead. Room 304.” Rick nodded at the hall and stepped aside.
 “You’re not going?” I paused, wondering what the deal was. Rick’s face
remained vibrant and smiling. He shook his head.
“No. You don’t need me for this. This is why I hired you. You know what
you’re doing. Report to me later this afternoon with some numbers and a
plan. We can set an expected timeline once the blueprints are drawn up.”
Rick winked and retreated through the double doors, and I turned to face
the hall full of doors. My feet carried me forward, but my chest began to
pound. On my own, to meet a donor wealthy enough to give enough money
to build an entire hospital wing, as interim director of obstetrics. Never in a
million years had I expected to be in this position.
The door was shut, and the light was on. I could see through the small
rectangular window, but not enough to view who I was going to meet. My
hand trembled on the doorknob. I took a deep breath and turned it, then
pushed inward. The door swept open, and the man standing alone next to the
conference table turned and smiled at me.
“Dad?” I froze in the open doorway. My father stood with a calm
expression, hands clasped in front of himself. He wore a casual tweed blazer
and brown slacks. The thin wisps of hair on his head looked like they were
getting lonelier by the day. The sparkle of joy that flickered in his eyes was
not outdone by anything. He didn’t even smile. Just stared at me calmly.
“Derek.”
“Is this a joke?” I glanced back at the double doors behind me, but Rick
wasn’t there. “Are you playing a joke on me? Is this an intervention or
something?” I turned back to him and he finally offered a soft smile.
“There is no joke.” He gestured at a chair and said, “Come. Sit.”
I stepped in, letting the door swing shut, and ambled in confusion to the
table. I was in complete shock as I lowered myself into the seat. Dad acted
like he could tell, giving me space to think and not pressing me to speak. I
pinched the bridge of my nose, forcing the racing thoughts to calm down.
“How? Why? I don’t understand.” I looked up at him and saw tears in his
eyes.
“I did a lot of soul searching. I did a lot of praying. Peter called me
shortly after you left town and told me he had been praying too. He got in to
see a counselor.”
That was another shock. My parents had always taught us that we didn’t
need counselors or medications to help us when God was the Wonderful
Counselor and Great Physician. The fact that Peter struggled so badly after
Mom’s death was a direct result of that. I was so relieved to hear that he was
getting help.
“I couldn’t see it, Derek. I was so out of touch. I didn’t even let my own
heart really feel the pain of losing her because the joy of the Lord is my
strength. It really is my strength.” His eyes brimmed. “But Jesus wept too,
and I neglected to see how weeping may endure for the night but joy comes
in the morning.”
Dad spouted so many Bible verses at me I thought it was a sermon, but I
tried to look past what I felt was nonsense to understand the heart of what he
was saying. I was quiet as he continued.
“What I’m trying to say is, I was wrong.” He sucked in a breath and held
it, then blew it out and blinked. A few tears streamed down his cheek and he
wiped them away. “I did some reading, and you were right. Mom’s thyroid
condition was very treatable, and she refused that treatment and died as a
result. I do not feel guilty that it happened the way it did. It was her choice,
and I would always respect her choice no matter what. I do feel saddened that
I missed so much. God gave us wisdom. Solomon was one of the wisest men
of all time, and he said life is futile under this sun, but what I wouldn’t give
to have just five more minutes with her.”
Dad’s shoulders shook as he cried, tears dripping into his lap. I offered
the handkerchief from my pocket and he took it. “Dad, what happened?”
“I prayed, Son. And I believe God said that he made men to be wise, and
that with that wisdom, man discovered medical science. It is a miracle in and
of itself, and it is good. If the money that has been sitting in my bank account
for the last two years can do anything good at all, it should help women in
this region benefit from the expert wisdom that God gave you.” He blew his
nose and sighed. “I’m building this birthing center to give them access to
hope. The only thing I ask is that you fill it with doctors as wise and kind as
you are and never turn a woman away because she can’t afford help.”
Dad reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. When he
handed it to me, I saw that it was a check. “Please accept my sincere apology.
And make sure you come home for Christmas. Peter will be there.”
The number of zeros on that slip of paper would build three hospitals. I
was in awe. If I donated my share of the inheritance too, no woman in this
region would go without care for the next twenty years.
“I love you, Dad.” I stood, and so did he, and I wrapped my arms around
him, realizing for the first time how frail he was getting as he aged. If
Christmas miracles were a thing, I had just witnessed one.
I only prayed that God didn’t withhold His best. I needed one more. I
needed Maggie now.

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 CHAPTER THIRTY

Maggie

M Y BODY SHOOK VIOLENTLY , cold shivers hitting me so hard they nearly

overrode the amount of back pain I was in. I turned the bed down and
climbed back in after a trip to the bathroom. My head swam. I knew I was
feverish without even using the thermometer I’d taken out of the medicine
cabinet. I’d been lying in bed since I woke up this morning, but I’d spent
most of the day in bed yesterday too. My lower back hurt so badly I couldn’t
bend well.
The thermometer was cold, but I held it under my tongue for the ninety
seconds it took to register, and when it beeped and I looked at it, I was
shocked. 102 degrees was not good, not while pregnant. It was possible that I
had something as simple as the common cold, but a fever would affect the
babies, which was something I worried about.
I pulled the covers up to my chin and ground my teeth as I waited for
their warmth to comfort me. My skin hurt. My stomach hurt. My entire body
felt like it had tiny lead weights hanging from every muscle. I shut my eyes
and nearly drifted off to sleep but jerked awake in another bout of shivering.
Daylight was fading, which meant it was nearing five o’clock. Sunset this
time of year came so early in the east, something I loathed, and the darkness
was deceiving, making me feel like it was later than it was. It coaxed me into
a lucid dreaming state where I was panicking, calling Derek and Curt and
begging them to help me. When I jolted awake again, my body didn’t let go
of the panic. I pulled it right into the real world with me.
Something was wrong. I could feel it. And I blamed myself for waiting so
long to realize it. Thursday night when I had that bath and my stomach felt
crampy, I had ignored it. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with the
babies. I’d felt them moving around quite normally. I did fear, however, that
this infection—viral or bacterial, I’d never know—could spread to them and
make them sick, or worse, the fever would cause brain damage.
That fear was enough to motivate me. I picked up my cell phone,
unplugging it from the charger, and scrolled my contacts. Dad and Curt knew
nothing about my pregnancy, so I knew I couldn't call them. I hadn’t even
thought out a good plan for telling them about one baby, let alone twins.
Sure, if I called them, they would come immediately and help me, no
questions asked, but the lectures later on—I wasn’t ready for that yet.
Derek’s contact info came up after Dad’s, a chilling reminder of the past I
was running from. I stared at his name and my thumb hovered over the
number, but deep down, I knew that wasn’t an option either. The fact that I
even considered it, though, told me how scared I was. As if I had dissociated
from reality enough to throw myself under the proverbial bus just to save my
children.
I continued scrolling, and Gypsy’s name popped up. She knew about the
babies, and she would definitely come, but I’d have to endure the same
lecture about telling the father.
My neck tingled, goosebumps rising on my arms. The fever made my
head throb and my shoulders tighten. I felt like it was going up by the second,
but that was probably my paranoia. After scrolling the rest of my contacts
and realizing the only possible help I had here in Evansville was Phillip—a
man I was currently avoiding due to intense sexual attraction—I decided on
Gypsy.
“Mags? How you doing?” Gypsy sounded chipper. She was chewing
something. I could tell by the food sounds coming across the phone.
“I’m sick. I think I need to go to the hospital, but I don’t think I can drive.
I’m really sick.” I shivered, covering my head with the comforter. “Can you
come take me?”
“Oh, gosh, did you call Curt or your dad?”
“No, Gyps. They don’t know yet. It’s either you or Doctor Sexy Pants,
and I am in no shape to be interacting with a man who has expressed
attraction to me.” Honestly, I was in no shape to even have attraction to him,
either, but the lack of emotional intimacy I’d experienced lately, coupled with
the amount of stress I was under, made me vulnerable.
“No problem, Mags. It will take a while, but I’ll come. You try to rest.
Get some water or soup and just lie in bed.” I heard some trash being
crumpled in the background, maybe the wrapper from whatever she was
eating. Leave it to Gypsy to be snacking. There was probably a pile of
crumbs on whatever surface was near her.
“Key is under the flowerpot by the mailbox, okay?”
Before I’d even said a proper goodbye, I dozed off. When I woke up,
Gypsy’s hand was pressed to my forehead. My eyes fluttered open to the
sound of her clicking her tongue.
“Maggie, you should have been at the hospital. I’m afraid to take your
temperature.” She folded back the covers and pointed at a pile of clothing.
“Get dressed. I’ll prep a go bag.”
I struggled to sit up, the pain in my back now wrapping around my front.
My stomach was hard as a rock now too, which concerned me a little, so I
dressed as quickly as I could with Gypsy’s help. I already had a bag for the
hospital prepared, which I directed Gypsy to collect out of my walk-in closet,
and with house slippers as shoes, we headed for the car.
The chill of the December air made my shivers more like convulsions, but
at least Gypsy’s car was still warm from the drive here. She needed my
direction to get to the hospital. It only took a few minutes to get across town.
As she drove, I punched in the number for my doctor’s office. It went straight
to his pager, so I left a message. It was still early in the pregnancy, in my
opinion, so I felt confident that things were going to be fine if they got my
fever under control. I just didn’t understand why my back hurt so badly.
And the contractions that started as we drove across town were horrible. I
just wanted pain medication and sleep.
Gypsy pulled up to the curb at the emergency room and put the car in
park, then raced around the front of the car and directly into the hospital. I
watched her disappear and felt relief begin to wash over me for the moment. I
was at least somewhere safer, where there were experts to figure out what
was going on with my body. When she returned, I had barely gotten the door
open and turned myself so my feet would touch the curb.
I was terrified.

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 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y- O N E

Derek

I SPENT the greater part of the weekend reeling in shock over my father’s
sudden change of heart. I sat at a café on Main Street for three hours,
watching the holiday shoppers out and about, finishing their Christmas
shopping. I sipped a mocha chai latté and remembered how Maggie liked her
coffee—sweet and creamy. I missed her. Every thought that wasn’t being
constantly focused on plans for the new birthing center was spent on her.
The clouds overhead all day had threatened snow, but when a light drizzle
started and the sun dipped below the horizon, I knew it was time to head
home. Sunday evenings were supposed to be spent relaxing in front of a
television or a crackling fire. Maggie would be nestled beneath a blanket,
reading a good book or watching a move. Or thinking of me . . .
I stood to leave, dropping a tip in the small jar on the counter near the
cash register. The barista smiled and nodded at me. It reminded me of the
little bistro inside the hospital where Maggie and I used to have lunch
together, along with the other members of my Yellow Springs staff. It also
reminded me of a few bittersweet memories—like the time I accused Maggie
of dating a guy I later found out had been invited to that particular lunch by
Gypsy.
I never forgave myself for that day.
I turned my collar up, heading out into the frigid rain. My car was parked
a few blocks away because I had started my afternoon out at the newsstand
down the street. So I turned into the stiff wind and used my remote start to
get the motor running. The faster the car warmed up, the faster I warmed up.
The minute I sank into the seat, my cell phone rang. I clipped it into the
hands-free phone holder I had mounted on my dashboard and swiped right to
answer before shutting the door. It was Kara from Hudson Valley, a very slim
but pretty blonde who ran emergency obstetrics.
“Yeah, Kara. What’s up?”
“Doc, you need to come in. Dr. Rhee is off this weekend and we have one
of his patients in here. She’s presenting with signs of infection, double
pregnancy, back labor, and we can’t find a heartbeat. We are prepping for
emergency C-section now.” Kara was as calm as could be. I was
continuously impressed with her resilience under pressure.
“Dilation?” I put the car in drive and checked traffic before pulling out. It
was only a ten-minute drive to the hospital, but with the wind and rain and
the temps dropping, I took my time. Icy roads were almost imperceptible in
the dark like this.
“Seven centimeters. Contractions less than one minute, but Baby A is
occiput posterior.”
I listened carefully and heard the steady rhythm of a heart monitor then
screams of a woman in the background. My mind played tricks on me,
making me think the screams sounded like Maggie. I pushed her out of my
thoughts and tried to focus, my windshield wipers on high to keep the
window clear as the rains picked up.
“I’ll be there in less than ten minutes. Have Chelsea on standby to help
me scrub in. Is the father there? Have we explained things?” The closer I got
to the hospital and the more information I got from Kara, the less thoughts of
Maggie invaded my mind. It was both a reward and a curse to me, that I
could bury myself so deeply in my work to forget her.
“No father, sir. She’s all alone here. We’ll be ready for you.” Kara hung
up just as I pulled into the hospital campus.
The rain began icing on my windows, clinging to tree branches and power
lines. I parked the car and got out, cursing the damned weather and vowing to
myself to open my next practice expansion someplace warmer. I nearly fell
on my ass as I headed across the parking lot—ice already forming in the
puddles and low spots. It was a miserable night to bring a baby into the
world, but I’d seen it a million times.
When weather patterns changed, it often pushed livestock into labor. I
chuckled to myself that it would be worthwhile doing an actual medical study
on the effects of weather in human pregnancy.
I made my way up to Labor and Delivery and headed in to scrub up.
Chelsea was there waiting with a gown and gloves. She wore a mask and a
hair net and handed one to me.
“Thanks. Any updates?” It had only been ten minutes, but in cases like
this, every second counted.
“Nothing new. Still no Baby B.” I tugged the hair net on and slid into the
gown, letting Chelsea tie me up as I washed up to the elbow. When I was
clean, she held out the gloves for me to put on and helped me double glove in
preparation for surgery.
“Let’s go!” She led the charge, and I followed, backing through the
doorway into the operating room. The screams plagued me. The woman was
in so much pain I could hear her while I was washing, but what was most
plaguing was the fear that I was too late and her precious Baby B was
suffering.
But when it hit me that I knew that voice, I was forced to push it all aside
to be professional and save lives. Maggie’s life.
I stared down at her as Chelsea draped a mask around my face. “Hello,
Maggie.” Chelsea tied the mask on, and I blinked back the emotion clouding
my vision. I glanced at her protruding stomach and looked back at her. “I
hear you’re having twins.” I could see shock in her face followed by relief.
“Baby B is missing, huh? Well let’s do a little search and rescue, shall we?”
It was all I could do to remain calm. I took a deep breath and stared at her
hardened stomach, tense with a strong contraction. While it wasn’t entirely
unethical for me to operate on Maggie, if those babies were what I feared
they were—her reason for disappearing and not telling me where she was—it
was definitely unethical for me to be doing this. But in the emergency
situation we were in, with Dr. Rhee out of town, I was her only choice.
“Nurse, scalpel.” I held out my hand, and Chelsea slapped a scalpel into
my palm. I had done this a thousand times or more. As I settled in to perform
the C-section, my muscle memory kicked in and I forgot who I was operating
on. Baby A came first, screaming and healthy. Baby B came second, a bit
lethargic, but still scoring well on the Apgar. When I had sewn Maggie up
and went to scrub out, she was resting. The medication hadn’t yet worn off,
and the nurses had a bit of cleaning up to do. I got rid of the bloody gloves
and washed up, ditched the gown, and dropped my mask. Maggie’s eyes were
shut, but I pulled a chair up next to her and asked Todd, the last nurse in the
room, to give us a few minutes.
Maggie’s eyes fluttered open. I could see that she was exhausted. Now
that the babies were here, she would receive the antibiotics she needed to
treat whatever sort of infection she had developed. Nurses had taken blood
when they gave her the spinal, so the results would be back soon.
“When did this happen?” I knew the answer in my heart before she
responded, but I wanted her to tell me. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she
shook her head. I just wanted the truth, no matter how hard it was to hear.
“He’s not in the picture, Derek.” Her voice was hoarse, as if she’d been
shouting in pain a while. Strands of hair lay across her face at odd angles. My
fingers ached to brush them away, to place a soft kiss on her forehead and
comfort her. How scared she must have been all these months alone, knowing
this was her fate. And I had been the one to scare her off.
“The timing . . . I don’t see how . . .” It made no sense to me. She would
have had to have either been sleeping with someone else at the same time as
me or met someone while we were on the rocks. These babies were thirty
weeks gestation. I didn’t want to call her a liar, not after what she just went
through, but I was feeling angry.
“I said he’s not in the picture, okay?” She began shivering, whimpering
as the spasms tore through her body. It was a normal reaction with
postpartum mothers. We always had hot blankets ready to warm them as the
adrenaline mixed with the loss of body heat. I grimaced, though, realizing I’d
have to return at some point to speak with her again when she wasn’t
exhausted.
“Todd!” I turned and called over my shoulder. “Thanks for giving us
privacy. We need some warm blankets for Maggie now, and she would like
to rest a bit. She is exhausted.”
I stood and looked down at her. Words couldn’t express how I was
feeling, but it didn’t matter. She needed to sleep, and I needed to let the shock
of this entire weekend sink in. I staggered out of the operating room, tossing
my hairnet and mask in the bin on the way out.
As I walked out toward my car, the same biting rain and sleet that had
chased me into the building didn’t faze me. I began to wonder if Curt knew
about this and kept it from me. I wondered if Gypsy knew, or Barbra. If
anyone could have told me that Magnolia Brock was pregnant with my child
—children—and I had been that deceived. Or maybe Maggie had done this
on her own, told no one and kept it a secret to carry to her grave.
How far would she have taken this had fate not intervened?
My heart wrenched as I slid behind the wheel and started the car, silently
cursing myself for not having used remote start this time. The thin layer of
ice on my windshield after the less than two hours I was in the hospital easily
swished away when I turned on the wipers. The car’s headlights lit up the ice
crystals glistening in the trees. We would have a few inches of snow before I
woke up in the morning, and I’d have to scrape my windows. It felt like my
heart had been scraped wide open.
Maggie had explaining to do, and I intended to get to the bottom of it.
Soon.

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 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y-T WO

Maggie

F OR THE PAST thirty-six hours I had been so drugged from pain and tired from
being ill and laboring alone, I slept. The moments I did wake up were spent
with nurses jabbing me with needles and holding suckling infants to my
chest. I dreamed I saw Derek a number of times, but my mouth wouldn’t
form words to communicate with him. I could only cry and push him away—
the thing I’d been doing for the past nearly six months, anyway.
For a Tuesday afternoon, it was pleasant. From my spot reclining in the
hospital bed, I could see the blanket of snow that covered everything outside.
Chimneys and roof vents spewed warm air and smoke into the sky. I could
almost feel the crisp winter breeze on my face as I watched cars pass by the
hospital. Gypsy had just left after a nice visit. She offered to return in the
morning to take me home but had also confessed that she couldn’t keep my
secret anymore.
She told Curt, who told my father. They were on the way to visit.
The term “anxiety” didn’t begin to describe what I was feeling. I held
Baby B, still without a name, to my breast, and he sucked eagerly. The
lactation consultant hovered over me. I’d called her in to see if she could help
me with the twins because neither of them was latching on easily.
“He looks like he’s doing much better now. You need to remember that if
you’re stressed, the baby will sense that. If you’re relaxed and calm, they will
feel at peace when you hold them.” She stepped back, checking on Baby A in
her bassinet, sleeping soundly.
“It’s not like it’s easy being a new mother.” I fidgeted with the receiving
blanket I had draped over my chest and the baby. I felt exposed sitting there
with my breasts out, so I had uncovered him and used his blanket to offer us
both some privacy and warmth.
“And a mother of twins, single . . . I get it.” She smiled at me softly. “You
have a lot on your plate, which is why the hospital provides this service for
free. I only wish we could provide it for weeks or months postpartum because
there are plenty of moms like you who may need more support.”
“Thank you for your help. I think we'll be fine now.”
She hovered for a while, watching as I finished nursing and made myself
a bit more presentable, then swaddled Baby B in his blanket and held him.
When she excused herself, I decided I might catch a short nap before Dad and
Curt arrived, but the minute I shut my eyes, there was a soft knock at the
door. I had given the nurses explicit instructions that I wanted no visitors at
all, so when I found out they were coming, I changed that order to let Dad
and Curt in. The request had only been in place to keep Derek away.
“Mags, oh, my God,” Curt whispered as he tiptoed in. “Gypsy told us
everything.” He went directly to Baby A’s bassinet and peeked at her, pulling
the edge of the blanket back a bit to see her face.
Dad came right to my side and sat on the edge of my bed, taking my hand
in his. “Are you okay? You look exhausted.” Leave it to Dad to focus on me
and how I was doing while Curt was more interested in the story behind the
secret I’d been keeping. I sighed. Coming clean would have been difficult no
matter when it happened. Getting it all out of the way at once was at least a
relief.
“I’m okay, Dad.” I tried to smile, but I was too tired. It probably came out
looking like a wince or a grimace. Dad leaned forward and looked at Baby B.
“Who is this little guy?” His eyes sparkled with joy. I could see the
emotion gathering there in his gaze. “Does he have a name yet?”
I shook my head. In the chaos of the move, the new job, and the stress of
being alone, I hadn’t even thought of names other than the fact that I was not
even good at naming pets. My cat’s name as a kid was Cat.
“Maybe you guys can help.” I offered Baby B to Dad, who took him
eagerly. I saw a tear sprout at the corner of his eye, which he swiped away
quickly.
“Your mother would be so in love right now.” He stood and started
pacing, whispering sweet nothings to my little boy. I straightened in the bed
and nodded at Curt, who gestured at Baby A. Watching Dad hold one baby
and Curt hold the other, I started to realize how much work it would be to do
this on my own. I was hardly ready to be a mother, and now I had two
children to care for.
“Why didn’t you tell us? We could have helped you.” Curt bounced the
baby and walked closer to me. I could see in his expression that he was
concerned and sympathetic, not at all angry. I had no way of explaining why
I had kept the secret other than shame or embarrassment. But that was only
half of it.
Derek deserved so much better out of his life than to end up losing
everything because he got a staff member pregnant. The rumors that would
start, the gossip. His ethics would be questioned, as would his
professionalism. I learned the hard way why he made that godforsaken rule
about not dating someone he worked with. I only wish I had understood it
before we got to this point. Before we got to the point where I was helplessly
in love with him and he was telling me it was “sex and friendship”.
I didn’t dare say anything now. With the way he was forced to come to
my aid during birth, he was jeopardizing everything doubly. The ethics board
would have a field day. He’d lose both offices, his job as head of obstetrics in
Yellow Springs, and whatever job he was doing here in Evansville. No, it had
to stay my secret.
“I was afraid.” I shrugged and looked down, picking at my fingernails.
They’d never buy it, so I had to sell it outright. “Yellow Springs is a small
town. I didn’t want people to talk. I just felt ashamed.”
“Well, you know I’d shut them all down anyway.” Curt’s tone took on a
protective tone.
“Magnolia, I’ve taught you to own your mistakes and prove to the world
that you’re not the choices you make. Haven’t I?” Dad stood at one side of
my bed, Curt on the other. It felt good having them with me. Being alone for
the past five months had been difficult. I skipped Thanksgiving because I
would have had to explain. I had no idea what I would have done for
Christmas if the babies hadn’t come and my secret hadn’t been exposed for
everyone to find out.
“So this is why you didn’t come home for Thanksgiving?” Dad raised an
eyebrow at me, and I nodded sheepishly. “You weren’t intending to come for
Christmas.”
 “I don’t know.” The shame kept piling up. I wanted to cry, whether from
the pressure being put on me or the fatigue of having given birth less than
two days ago, or maybe it was just hormones.
“So who is the father?” Curt looked at me with intense curiosity. His eyes
searched my face like a human lie detector. He was going to pry until he got
his answer, but I wasn’t in the mood to deal with it.
“You don’t know him.” I hated that I had to outright lie to my own
brother, but it was the only choice I had. “Okay?”
Dad laid Baby B into his bassinet and came back to stand by me. I
yawned. The nurses told me to sleep when baby sleeps, but which baby, and
how often? I knew I was only a few days in, but if this was how exhausted
motherhood made me, I knew I would need more help.
“I want you to come home, Maggie. Come stay with me.” Dad took my
hand again. “There is no more shame, no need to hide. I have your bedroom
still as it was when you moved out. A little dustier, I think. And we can turn
Curt’s bedroom into a nursery. He won’t mind.” Dad’s gesture was very kind,
and it did appeal to me. Evansville was a great place, but I hadn’t really
settled in. If Derek was here, then I didn’t want to be.
I had already lied to him too much. He would start prying, and things
would get too personal, maybe ugly. If going home to stay with Dad meant
getting me away from him so I could just bury this shame and never let him
feel an ounce of it, that is what I had to do.
“You mean that?” I watched Curt lay Baby A back in her bed and smiled.
“It wouldn’t be a burden?”
“Are you kidding? Having my two beautiful grandchildren living with me
would be a dream come true. And imagine the Christmas presents.” He
winked at me and patted my knee. “Curt, we need to let Maggie rest. Mags,
Curt and I will get a hotel, but we’ll be back in the morning.”
“Are you sure? You can stay at my place.” Dad kissed my forehead and
then pulled my covers up over my chest.
“I’m sure. We’ll be here bright and early to take you home. Then we can
discuss moving.”
Curt hugged me gently, and I winced because of the huge incision across
my stomach. He grimaced. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I waved as they walked out, my
eyelids feeling heavy. I lay back in the bed and watched them walk past the
mirror. Sleep tugged at me until I started to drift off. Before I fell into a deep
sleep, I swore I saw Derek standing outside my hospital room window, just
staring at me.
Maybe it was a dream, but I thought he looked sad, like he wanted to say
something he couldn’t put into words.

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 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y-T H R E E

Derek

W EDNESDAY AFTERNOON , I finally worked up the courage to visit Maggie’s

hospital room. I had waited, knowing she had requested no visitors—
probably to keep me out. I wanted to respect her privacy, but after forty-eight
hours of waiting, I couldn’t take it anymore. I had been searching for her for
five months to tell her I loved her. I wasn’t waiting any longer.
I picked up a teddy bear at the gift shop, a vase of flowers, and a card.
After scrawling a short note in the card, I headed to the maternity ward. I
wasn’t nervous about what she would say. I knew in my heart that this had all
been my fault. I had treated her like a common whore, forcing no-strings-
attached sex on her without even stopping to ask if she had feelings for me.
Judging by her responses to my rejections, she did. I had just been too stuck
up to notice it.
Until now.
I used my swipe badge to let myself through the doors, not calling on the
nursing staff to open up like normal visitors would. When I turned down the
patient hallway, Chelsea waved at me, smiling. I half expected her to stop me
from dropping in to see Maggie, as if Maggie had left an explicit note in her
file that it was me she hadn’t wanted to see. But Chelsea let me walk right
down the patient hallway. I realized it was my own idiocy that feared being
turned away. I was her boss, and for all she knew, I was visiting a different
patient.
 I paused just before getting to Maggie’s door. The curtains in the room
were drawn and the lights were off. It was a good sign that she was sleeping,
so I waited, unsure whether I should just walk in. I glanced at my watch and
knew I had a few meetings to get to, so if I waited too long, I wouldn’t have
time to say what I wanted to say.
So I pushed the door open and walked in, flicking the light switch to low.
But the room was empty—no bassinets, no patient, an empty bed. My jaw
dropped. Maybe I’d gotten the room number wrong. I didn’t think so, since I
stood outside this very room for the past two days at least thirty minutes at a
time, multiple times, watching her sleep. I darted back into the hallway and
checked the room number. 405. Then I glanced down the hall at Chelsea who
still stood at the nurses’ station. Her head was down.
In haste, I charged back up the hallway and stopped at the desk. Chelsea’s
eyes popped up and she smiled. “What can I do for you, Doc?” She pushed a
stack of patient files aside and sat down, ready to type at the keyboard of her
computer.
“Brock, room 405, where is she?” I tried not to let the panic strangling
my heart into my voice. The bear and vase of flowers felt like they weighed a
million pounds. I set them on the counter there and leaned forward casually
as she typed.
“Magnolia Brock . . . Ah, here. Discharged this morning by Dr. Rhee.
Wait . . .”
“But she had a cesarean.”
“Yes, she did. The babies were let go this morning at 8:45, and Ms. Brock
signed out against medical advice. Said she had a doctor she could see if
things went bad for her recovery. Dr. Rhee would have sent her home
tomorrow, anyway.” Chelsea looked up at me with her professional smile,
but I was furious. The anger had to have shown on my face despite my best
efforts to control it. I scraped a hand across my beard and turned away.
“Thanks, Chels. I have a meeting.” I wandered off, heading toward my
office with no intention of going to that meeting. It was three in the
afternoon. That meant she’d had more than six hours to disappear into the
wind again. I’d seen Curt and his father here, so I knew they knew about the
babies, which only further aggravated me. It only proved my suspicions that
all of them were in cahoots to keep this thing from me, which only confirmed
my fear. Those babies were mine.
Maggie should have been mine.
 I sank behind my desk and started my search. It wasn’t a breach of
security for me to access patient records, but it wasn’t ethical. I didn’t care. I
dived right in, searching Maggie in the patient directory and writing her
address down on a sticky note. Maybe if I was lucky, she would be alone
when I got there, and Curt and his father would have returned back to Yellow
Springs or something. If not, that was okay. I could take the heat.
I sent a quick email to the other directors that I would not be in
attendance, then left immediately. I was so worked up and frustrated, I left
my coat and hat in my office, remembering only to take my keys and phone.
When I stepped out the door, the cold air sliced through my suit and took my
breath away, but I didn’t go back to get the warmer winter gear.
The tiny apartment complex made it easy to find the correct place. There
were only four buildings, a total of what appeared to be 36 units. Maggie was
in building 2047, unit 3, which meant she was on the ground floor. I parked
in front of the building right next to a moving van. As I walked past, I saw
boxes being loaded in and a happy couple standing in the doorway holding
the door open. I thought nothing of it until I entered the building, smiling at
the couple, and noticed it was unit 3 that was being emptied.
I turned to address the blonde woman, clinging to her partner’s bicep.
“Excuse me, Miss?”
She smiled at me. “Yeah?”
“Is that your apartment?” I gestured at the door where large men were
carrying boxes out. After a quick glance inside, it appeared that nothing had
been packed and this was a rush job. Unmade boxes leaned against the wall.
Packaging material was strewn about.
“Yeah, it will be. The current tenant is leaving, and we only have a one-
bedroom, but this is a two-bedroom unit, so we will have more space.” She
beamed like it was the deal of the century or something.
I felt like I’d been gutted. I stood there shell-shocked for a few more
minutes as movers carried what had to be Maggie’s stuff right past me. Just
for good measure, I turned to the woman and asked, “This is building 2047,
unit 3?” She nodded, the guy she clung to looking at me with irritation.
“Thanks.”
I stormed out, headed straight for the office building. The door said office
hours closed at three, but I walked right in anyway despite it being almost
3:15. A stout man sat at a desk punching numbers into a calculator. He
grunted then looked at the clock.
 “We’re closed. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
“Listen, buddy. I need your help.” I leaned over his desk, my knuckles
white as I pressed my fist against the fake wood. “The woman in 2047, unit 3
—where is she?”
He scowled at me. “Can’t you read the sign there? We’re closed.”
“I am not taking no for an answer.” I glared at him. I’d come too far,
gotten too close to her to lose her again. My time for the next two months
would be spent in meeting after meeting. I knew when Dad offered that huge
check that I would be tasked with helping the architect do the designing.
Because of that, I would have had less time to search for her. When fate
brought us together, I had celebrated. I didn’t care what the circumstances
were. I was in love with her.
“I can’t help you.” He looked back to his calculator, and I swiped it,
throwing it at the wall.
“I didn’t ask.” The calculator broke, pieces of it skittering across the
floor. “I need to know where she is. Now.”
The man’s face contorted. He broke out in a cold sweat, trembling.
“Listen, buddy. I don’t want no trouble. I moved out of the city to this little
town to get away from punks like you. Just ask what you need and move on.
Okay?” He tapped the spacebar of his keyboard, waking his computer up.
“Magnolia Brock, unit 3, building 2047. What forwarding address did she
leave?” I leaned over the computer and watched him enter the information.
“She paid out her lease cash, then returned her keys. She paid over a
grand to have me hire these movers. I just happened to be owed a favor or it
would have been tomorrow. But you see I got this other couple wanting that
unit, and they waived the cleaning, so they can take it as soon as Ms. Brock’s
stuff is out.” He shrugged, turning the computer so I could see Maggie’s file.
I wanted to scream and smash the screen. He had to have seen the rage in
my eyes because he drew his hands up defensively like he thought I’d attack.
I retreated, clenching my jaw and stomping out of the office. She’d given me
the slip, and I would never find her.
And now with the birthing center project and my being in charge of it, it
could be months before I had time to do any more searching. Anger didn’t
begin to describe what I felt. Or maybe it wasn’t so much anger as deep
heartbreak I just couldn’t express any other way.
My car tires squealed as I peeled out of that parking lot. This was not at
all how this was supposed to happen.
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 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y-F O U R

Maggie

H ANDING out my new phone number to all my old contacts was a pain in the
ass. When I had the babies, I had lied to Derek about their father. I saw in his
eyes the pain and hurt, but he hadn’t realized that I’d done it to protect him—
mostly. Part of it was protection for myself, too. I needed time for my heart to
heal. I’d come clean soon enough, but right now, I loved him too much.
The idea of seeing other people hadn’t been an option until Phillip had
flirted with me, and at the time, that felt like betrayal. But the more time and
distance I put between Derek and myself, the more I felt like one day, that
would be an option. For now, I still cried myself to sleep at night regretting
some of the choices I had made—mainly, falling in love with him. I should
have known better than to think I had a shot with him.
“Hey,” Curt whispered, peeking his head into the nursery. The cold
January day had frost clinging to the outside of the windows. I had been
home for just over a month now with strict orders to Curt and Dad that I did
not want to see anyone at all. “Dad told me Aunt Becky wants to come over.”
I rolled my eyes. “Proof Dad does not know what ‘absolutely no visitors
or calls’ means.” I snickered and waved him in. “Come, sit.” I readjusted
Jensen beneath his privacy cover and woke him up a little. He had a horrible
habit of falling asleep while nursing and it left me sore.
“Isla is sleeping?” He peeked into the crib the babies shared.
“Shh, yes.” I patted the chair next to me. “Let’s keep it that way.” It was
amazing how much better I felt being back home. The pregnancy hormones
were slowly fading away, and despite a bit of postpartum depression
aggravated by it being so damn cold, I felt almost back to normal.
“So I keep getting calls from Derek asking about you. He said he
delivered the twins? I didn’t realize he moved to Evansville.” Curt gave me a
hard stare. I could see the wheels in his head spinning. I wasn’t about to give
anything away now, not after I’d come so far. I didn’t care at this point
whether Curt was angry. It wasn’t even about that anymore.
Derek had broken my heart, pushed me away like a common street
whore. He didn’t even care how I felt. I tried to walk away, but he kept
sucking me back in and insisting that we had great sex together. Maybe the
time away had given me clarity or perspective. Or maybe it had just made me
bitter. The truth was even I didn’t know. What I did know was I was moving
on without him because I had to.
I shrugged as if I thought it was nothing. “Yeah, he opened a practice
there. I didn’t realize he was the attending at the hospital that night. My
doctor was on vacation, and Derek just happened to be there.”
Jenson cooed, and I peeked into the privacy cover. His rosy complexion
melted my heart. Trying not to put on a show for my brother, I readjusted my
shirt to cover myself and folded the privacy cover down. Jenson had a milk
ring around his face and smiled as his eyes fluttered shut. I wiped his mouth
with my thumb and put him up to my shoulder to burp him.
“That’s it? Some strange coincidence?” His eyes searched my face like he
thought I was lying. I was, but he didn’t know that.
I scrunched my face up and shook my head. “Yeah, why?”
“No reason.” Curt brushed his finger over Jenson’s cheek and smiled. I
didn’t see all of the questioning vanish from his expression, but he didn’t
push it. When Jenson let out a loud burp, I stood and laid him down next to
Isla. They looked cute all cuddled up together, and I smiled thinking that
getting their portraits done would be so adorable.
Curt followed me out of the room, and I shut the door quietly. I had the
baby monitor clipped to my belt and headed for the kitchen. Nursing always
made me so thirsty. When we strolled in, Dad was making tamales, Mom’s
old recipe. She loved the things, and they had sort of become an unspoken
family tradition around the holidays. He leaned over the counter, kneading
the dough. He smiled at us as he noticed us.
“Looks delicious. I can’t wait to taste them.” I plopped down on a bar
stool and watched his expert hands work the dough until it was pliable. Curt
sat next to me with apprehension on his face. He dusted some flour off the
counter onto the floor and grimaced.
“I just don’t understand why Derek keeps calling me.”
My gut clenched. Why wasn’t he letting this go? He had no reason to
suspect anything. No one did except Derek, and he had been effectively shut
out of my life, for his own good and mine. I found it almost impossible to
remain calm. My nerves were shot. Keeping this secret was a lot harder than I
thought.
"Well, Son,” Dad chimed in, “he was your best friend for more than a
decade and he worked with Maggie here for what, five months? You know as
well as I do that they had a bit of a spark back in the day.” Dad winked at me.
“He delivered her babies. I’m sure he is just curious.” He folded the dough
over on itself again and again, his aged hands following the well-practiced
rhythm.
“That just doesn’t cut it. I mean, he’s pushy and aggressive, demanding
answers. When I told him I can’t give him Maggie’s number, he just gets
angry with me. Why is he doing that?” Curt stared me down, and I felt the
color draining from my face.
I was about to open my mouth in rebuttal when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get
it.” I hopped off the seat and hustled to the front door to open it. Aunt Becky
was my lifesaver for that moment.
The door swung open, and to my surprise, Becky and her husband,
Oliver, stood holding bags of gifts, a giant wrapped box perched on the front
porch at their feet. “Aunt Becky!” I reached out for a hug then stood aside so
they could enter. Oliver set his bags down then went back for the box. I had
never been more grateful that Becky existed in my life than now.
“Oh, Magnolia, your mother would just be so proud of you. You are
going to be such a good mother.” She set her bags down and turned to hug
me. I accepted the second hug and the kiss on each cheek too. Normally, I
hated this sort of interaction. Becky always brought up Mom as if she could
heal a wound just by mentioning her name. But for this moment, the sting of
that memory was less than the weight of guilt Curt was piling on me.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll just take these into the babies’ room?” Becky and
Oliver nodded. He offered a quick hug too before they took their coats off.
“Dad’s in the kitchen with Curt,” I called out as I picked up a few bags. I was
excited to see what they had brought for me, but I was more relieved that I
could avoid that conversation with Curt.
I worked slowly, taking the packages into the nursery, and when they
were all in there, I sat alone in silence for a moment. If I got grilled like that
too many more times, I would snap. I started to think that maybe living at
Dad’s house wasn’t the answer I had hoped for. At this point, I didn’t know
what the answer was. Derek knew where Dad lived. If he searched hard
enough, he’d discover that I just moved home. Then all hell would break
loose.

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 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y-F I V E

Derek

M Y DAYS and evenings were spent in meetings so long I was exhausted and
ready to collapse by the time I got home. I tried doing what I had been doing
before the holidays, loitering on the weekends around town with a hope I’d
see Maggie, but deep inside, I knew I’d never see her again. I hadn’t given
up, but the work of directing a massive hospital expansion project took
everything out of me. If I wasn’t in meetings, I was sleeping.
Last weekend, I went home to check on the farm. The foal was nearly a
year old, and Evan needed a day off to attend a funeral for a distant family
member. It felt good to be back in Yellow Springs but bittersweet at the same
time. It was highly possible that Maggie had moved back there and was
staying with her family. While I was in town, I stopped by Curt’s house, but
he wasn’t home. I didn’t know where his father lived or I’d have just showed
up there.
For the past four weeks, I’d done nothing but sit and think about her
every spare second. Every time I thought I’d have a spare second to do some
research, maybe dig around a little and find out where Maggie was, I either
got too drowsy to continue or got interrupted by work. So I decided to take a
new route.
“Welcome, Mr. Painter.” I shook the private investigator’s hand and sat at
my desk. This was one meeting I was not dreading. I’d asked him to visit me
for the free consultation because I didn’t personally have the time to do the
searching, but I needed it done. I knew those babies were mine. My gut
wouldn’t let me rest.
“Doctor Holt, I did the bit of digging you asked me to on the phone.” The
tall, slender man wore a trench coat, its shoulders damp from snow that had
melted on his way to my office. He slid a file across my desk as he sat down.
“You were right.”
Curious, I opened the folder and looked down at the copies of the twins’
birth certificates. I could have driven to our local health department and
looked them up, except I did not have the twins’ names. Jim had been able to
locate all the information I hadn’t had time to think about.
“No name where the father is supposed to be listed.” I shook my head and
thumbed through the file. There was no legal address listed for Maggie after
the address here in Evansville. She couldn’t have just vanished into the wind.
I looked up at the PI. “You didn’t locate her?”
“Well, I have to do more research. I’m going to focus my efforts in
Yellow Springs, starting with her father and brother. It may take some time.
It would be easier to track her through the babies’ medical records, but
minors are protected in the state of New York, so I can’t see behind those
firewalls without breaking some laws. It just depends on how much you want
to pay.” His eyes glistened with a bit of excitement, like he’d never had such
a grand adventure laid out in front of him.
“No, no . . . ” I knew I could just sit in Yellow Springs at a grocery or
something and wait until I saw Tony or Curt pass through, then follow them
home. I didn’t need Jim to break the law. “Nothing illegal.” I pushed the file
back toward him. “How much time? A week? Two weeks?”
“Maybe months. Depends on whether she’s in town or not. We’re talking
$200 an hour for my time on the road. Let me know what you think.” He
stood and picked up the file, tapping it on the corner of my desk. “You have a
nice lawsuit on your hands here. If you can prove paternity, you would win
for sure. I have a lawyer on speed dial.”
My heart sank. The last thing I wanted was to sue Maggie for custody. I
loved her. This was all a huge misunderstanding. And as angry as I was for
the way she’d handled things, I didn’t want to hurt her. I wanted her to
understand that I felt bad for what had happened. I wanted to make things
right.
“No thanks, Jim.” I stood and shook his hand. Nearing the end of the day
on a Friday, I decided it was time to put action to my frustration. I had the
long weekend to go back to Yellow Springs, so I would. Martin Luther King
Junior Day shut businesses down on Monday, and I’d already told our
architect that I would not be available for meetings. I had reached the point of
burnout. I needed a break.
“Suit yourself. I’ll wait until I hear from you about the search. I’m on
standby to head to Yellow Springs and get started.” Jim excused himself, and
I grabbed my coat. My bags were already in the car. All I had to do was make
the drive. I wasn’t looking forward to the snow in the mountain passes, but it
was the only way home, and I knew it well.
The drive went faster than I expected. I made decent time due to
following a salt truck along most of the steep mountain roads. When I pulled
into my driveway, I saw Peter’s car there, as if he was waiting for me or
something. The way he left town had been totally unexpected, but after what
Dad had said about him, I wondered if he had come to apologize.
I parked next to him and headed for the house, leaving my bags behind.
When I stepped through the front door, dusting snow off my shoulders before
entering, Peter looked up in surprise.
“Derek, I was just leaving you a note.” He dropped a pen and paper on
the table and stood from his position on the couch. “I used your spare key.
No, I didn’t take anything.”
I scowled at him. I hadn’t assumed he’d taken anything, but after he said
that I realized I wouldn’t have put it past him to have stolen from me. I
shrugged out of my coat and hung it on the coat tree. “What brings you by?” I
noticed the wet footprints across my wooden floors and scowled deeper. I’d
have to leave my boots on or my socks would be soaked.
“I came to apologize. I’ve been seeing a counselor like twice a week. I
have to switch to a new one since I’m moving back to Yellow Springs, but I
think it’s helping me a lot. I wanted to thank you for taking care of me and
watching out for me. I’m going to be staying with Dad for a while. I was just
leaving a note for you to stop by when you can. Dad said you were back and
forth between here and Evansville. That’s amazing.”
Pete wrung his hands and his eyes appeared apprehensive. After all the
animosity between us for years, I could see why he would feel
uncomfortable.
“Yeah, I have a big project there, but my practice here is still growing.
I’m on leave of absence at Mercy so I can help out in Evansville.” My boots
squeaked as I headed for the kitchen. “Want a beer?”
 “No, you sit down. I’ll get a few. You just had a long drive.”
Peter being helpful? I could get used to that. I smiled and nodded, then
parked my ass on the couch and leaned back. With the news the private
investigator shared with me, I had a renewed sense of urgency to find
Maggie. My gut told me she was with her father, but I had no confirmation. I
started thinking of ways to search for Tony’s address that wouldn’t be
unethical. If all else failed, I’d use my hospital access to see if he had a
patient account at Mercy. That would at least give me a starting place.
A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. It was probably Evan who
came to report after he saw my car pull in. “Come in!” I didn’t even bother
straightening in my seat. I was exhausted and just wanted to relax. But when
Curt walked in, taking a trilby from his head and shaking the snow off it, my
chest constricted.
“Do you have a few minutes?”
I sat straight up, my heart hammering. I wasn’t sure why Curt was here or
how he knew I was home, but it didn’t matter. He shut the door and turned to
face me, a tense glower on his face. He held the hat with one hand, tenting his
fingers across the top of it with the other.
“What’s up?” I didn’t know whether I should stand or stay seated. All I
could think about was how desperately I wanted to see Maggie to make
things right. It had been a month since the babies were born—a month of
agony.
“We need to talk.” Curt’s tone was firm, taut with the same exacting
emotion I saw in his eyes.
“About?” I scooted forward to the edge of my seat.
“Maggie.”
Had she told him that we’d slept together? Did he know something I
didn’t know? In the interest of protecting her secret form him, I played dumb.
“What about?”
“Oh, give me a break, Derek. You fucking know.” He took a few
menacing steps closer to me.
“Curt, listen, I—”
“What happened?” He dropped his hat, his hands fisted at his sides. He
hadn’t even bothered to take his jacket off or stomp the snow off his boots.
“I don’t know. I just—”
“So something happened?” Curt launched at me, fists blazing. I didn’t
have a chance to even raise my hands to cover my face. His knee landed in
my groin, and a hard right cross collided with my jawbone. I tried to push
him away, but he had the upper advantage and I had been taken by surprise.
He slammed another fist into my chest, and I recoiled, finding it hard to
breathe.
“Whoa!” Peter’s voice sounded from behind me, and I heard beer bottles
clink, then felt Curt lift off me. When I looked up, holding my jaw, Peter was
pulling Curt back. “Curt, stop. Seriously.”
Curt yanked away from Peter and picked up his hat. “You motherfucker.”
His voice shook with anger. He pointed a finger at me. “It was you, wasn’t it?
Is that why she doesn’t want to see you? Did you hurt her?” Angry tears
burned hot streaks down his cheeks.
“What’s going on?” Peter backed away, picking up his beer.
“Nothing,” I snapped, picking the other one up and pressing it to the sore
spot on the side of my face.
“Well, I can’t very well leave if he’s going to attack you again.” Peter
hovered, glancing between us.
Curt snatched the beer out of Peter’s hand and guzzled it, downing the
entire thing then thrusting the empty bottle back into Peter’s hand. “We’re
fine,” he spat.
“We’re fine, Pete. I’ll come by tomorrow and we can have that beer.”
We both waited as Peter put his coat on and left, his eyes locked on Curt
until the door was shut. I wasn’t sure what to say except to be honest.
“I’m not sure what you know or how much you know, but you need to
understand that I never . . . I would never hurt Maggie. I love her.”
Curt scoffed and shook his head. When he charged at me again, I winced,
not willing to duke it out with him. Maggie meant more to me than that. He
could beat me to a pulp and I would still love her. But when his hand came at
me, it wasn’t a fist. He grabbed the beer away from the side of my face and
tipped it up to his lips as he sat down next to me.
“I fucking knew it.” He shook his hanging head. “She lied to me. She told
me the father wasn’t in the picture. She told me it wasn’t you.”
We sat in silence as the weight of his words sank in. She’d told me the
same thing, but my gut knew better.
“It was you. Wasn’t it?” His voice had dropped, his tone so low I almost
couldn’t hear him.
I shrugged. “Curt, I swear to you I don’t know. She told me the same
thing. We had sex—a lot of sex.” He scowled at me. “But when she moved
away, I had no idea she was pregnant. I didn’t know it until I was called for
an emergency cesarean and scrubbed in, only to see it was her. I could have
lost everything just doing that surgery, you know? If those are my babies, it
goes against every ethics board in the country. As it was, I shouldn’t have
done it, simply for the fact that we’d had a relationship.”
I winced at my own words. What I now confessed was a relationship, I
had thrown in her face as “sex and friendship”, and I realized for the first
time how much that must have hurt her.
“But if I hadn’t operated, she’d be dead, and so would the babies. There
was no doctor within an hour of that place to do that surgery. It’s too remote,
and I was on call.”
Curt looked up at me, eyes still angry but searching now. “You saved her
life?”
“I mean, I can’t say with 100% certainty that she’d have died, but it
would have been close. She had a raging infection, likely caused by a leaking
amniotic sac being contaminated. Maybe bath water or just bacteria of some
sort. The babies would have contracted the same infection. It made her very
sick. She was nearly septic when I did the surgery.”
“Fuck.” He raked his hand through his hair and set the beer down.
“I have a strong feeling they’re mine. I also know I probably hurt her
somehow, or else she wouldn’t have walked away—left town. She probably
thought I didn’t want her and wouldn’t want the babies, either.” My
shoulders sank. I felt like I could let my guard down now.
“Wouldn’t want her? Why?” He angled to face me more, concern on his
face again.
“I told her we couldn’t be more than friends, but the sex was really great.
I worried about my job, the office, the way inner-office relationships get
messy. I was selfish and stupid. I couldn't admit that I loved her. After Mom
died, I didn’t trust that Maggie wouldn’t do the same thing—leave me out of
important decisions I had a right to help make.”
“How did that work out for you?” Curt picked up the beer and took a
swig. I grimaced, realizing I had created a self-fulfilling prophecy. She had
done exactly what I was afraid she’d do, simply because I told her I didn’t
want that level of relationship.
“Help me, Curt. My heart is just destroyed. Even if she doesn’t want
anything to do with me anymore, she needs help with those babies at the very
least. They’re mine. I know it.”
 Curt hung his head again and said, “Alright, but if you hurt her, I will kill
you.”
We both chuckled, but I knew he was serious. My heart could breathe
again. He would help me set up a meeting with Maggie.
Now I really needed a beer.

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 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y- S I X

Maggie

C URT SLID his arms into his jacket then zipped it up. He stood next to the
front door beside Dad. Both of them wore their heaviest winter camo,
carrying shotguns in hand. They had grins the size of Texas, and it was good
to see them going back into the woods. Gun law was a short week of hunting
each winter when hunters could use a shotgun or high-powered rifle to bag
big game. Otherwise, a bow was the only legal weapon. Dad finally
convinced Curt to go out with him on the final day of the week.
“You guys are going to freeze your nuts off.” I chuckled as I handed Dad
a pair of fingerless gloves. He took them and kissed me on the cheek.
“You’re crazy. It’s snowing at the rate of an inch an hour, and you’re really
taking the ATVs out to the woods?”
“How else do you expect us to drag a deer home?” Curt winked at me and
pulled a balaclava on his head. He kept the face covering up on his forehead
as he shoved his hands into gloves.
“It will be a miracle if they don’t smell us, but with a northerly wind if we
come up the southern pass, we might just get one on the ridge.” Dad nudged
Curt with his elbow as if divulging a super-secret plan for how to tag a deer.
He grinned and turned to me. “It’ll be around four hours or so until we’re
back. You can make us some hot cocoa just like Mama used to when you’d
play in the snow until your cheeks were rosy.”
The memory of my mother standing over the stove stirring the mixture of
sugar, cocoa, and milk slowly as it warmed up over low heat made me smile.
Making cocoa for their return made me feel like maybe I did have it in me to
be a mother. If the last five weeks of doing things by myself hadn’t taught me
how strong I was, nothing would.
“Oh, I just can’t wait until Jensen is big enough to go hunting.” Dad
grabbed my shoulders and kissed my forehead.
“Isla might really like it too. You never know.” Curt snickered at me as I
gave him a playful scowl.
“Let’s let them grow up slowly, building snow forts and making mud pies
first. Okay, guys?” I opened the door, swinging it wide for them to walk
through. The ATVs were loaded down with all the supplies and ammo they
needed. Dad struggled to get onto his four-wheeler, but once settled, he jetted
off like a pro. Curt gave me a two-finger salute and sailed off after Dad.
I watched the cloud of snow they left in their wake until the ATVs dipped
over a hill and out of sight. Then I shut myself into the house. I’d just laid
Jenson and Isla down for their naps after nursing them. I was exhausted, and
the mantra “sleep when baby sleeps” came to mind. So I pulled the throw
blanket off the back of the couch and curled up, using the arm rest as a
pillow. The fuzzy blanket was so warm, I dozed off almost immediately,
listening to the slight buzz of the baby monitor.
When I heard the door open and someone stomp boots on the hardwood
floors, I thought maybe Curt or Dad had forgotten something and thought
nothing else of it. I lay there listening for a moment but dozed back off right
away. But the floor creaked right beside me, and my eyes shot open in shock.
Derek hovered over me, a bouquet of flowers in hand, a look of
compassion on his face. I blinked hard, my eyes not wanting to wake up quite
as fast as my mind had. “Derek?” I sat up and rubbed my eyes, feeling the
couch next to me jostle as he sat down.
“Mags, don’t say anything, please. Let me talk.” He set the flowers on the
table and turned toward me. “And please don’t be angry at Curt for setting
this up for us.”
I scowled. Curt had done this after I made him swear to keep Derek away
from me? I wasn’t sure whether I should be furious with my brother or
terrified of what Derek would say. And not to mention, what had Curt told
him? Out of respect, I held my tongue, but I was upset. Derek had no right to
go behind my back and talk to my family or just walk into my home
unannounced.
 “Maggie, I know the babies are mine.”
I froze, unable to take my eyes off his face. It wasn’t like he had access to
them to do a paternity test, so how could he say empirically that they were
his? I watched his face as he took a breath and his eyes searched mine.
“You don’t have to hide anymore. I’m not angry with you.” He slid his
hand onto my knee and squeezed it. “I’m in love with you.”
My heart stopped.
I didn’t understand. He was lying. He had to be. If he loved me, then why
had he treated me so poorly? He’d pushed me away time after time. It was
just “sex and friendship” so he could keep his professional reputation in good
standing. I had left everything, given up my job, lost friends, moved, and
almost died in childbirth because he had let me walk away thinking I was
nothing more than a cheap fuck.
“You’re what?” My mouth was dry, my tongue sticking to my palette.
My palms grew sweaty instantly. You could have bounced a quarter off my
shoulders. That’s how tense they were.
“I love you, and I really fucked up. I was hurting. It’s no excuse, but with
Peter and Dad and all the things that happened, I was so overwhelmed by
everything, I didn’t see you for the amazing woman you were. I was afraid. I
didn’t want to be vulnerable to another woman hurting me. My mother died
because she refused treatment for something curable. I tried to convince her
to take the pills, but she refused.”
“I was, and I still am, afraid to let you that close to me, where I’m that in
love with you that I’m afraid to lose you.” He took my hand and cupped both
hands around it. “But I’m more afraid of not having you than of having you
and losing you because you choose to do your own thing. I need you,
Magnolia. You make my life better. You make me better. I don’t want to live
without you.”
I felt tears welling up in my eyes. Derek loved me? I didn’t know what to
say at all. I’d spent the past nearly six months believing he was not interested
in anything more than sex with me. Even our friendship had come into
question when I wanted to leave because I couldn’t take it emotionally
anymore, and he had ordered me to stay. A good friend would have
understood. I had felt objectified and used.
“Say something.” His eyes pleaded with me to comfort him and ease the
suffering he was going through. There were new worry lines across his
forehead that hadn’t been there six months ago and even more gray hair than
before.
“I don’t know what to say.” My words came out mumbled and soft.
“Say you forgive me. You don’t have to say you love me. That’s okay.
But just say you forgive me, that I can be a part of your life. Tell me that we
will be okay.” He brought my hand to his lips and kissed it.
“Derek, I love you more than I have ever loved anyone. And you’re right.
Jensen and Isla belong to you. I was terrified to tell you. You wanted only
‘sex and friendship’, so I felt like I had done something wrong. You have
such an important position. What would the board think, the office ladies? I
didn’t want to jeopardize your reputation or career.” I looked down at my
hand in his and felt the tears brimming, only these were happy tears. “I
wanted to tell you I loved you so many times.”
“I know. That day on your couch, when you tried to comfort me after that
argument with Peter. I know . . .” Derek kissed my hand again.
“I’m sorry I left without telling you. I was scared. I was hurt. I was angry.
You made me feel like the only thing I was worth to you was for sex.” The
pain as I said the words was so intense the tears burst out.
“Oh, God, Maggie. I’m so sorry I made you feel like that. You are worth
so much more to me that just sex. You are beautiful, and smart, and funny.
You are so strong, and you know how to comfort my heart. You’re my best
friend.”
The baby monitor crackled, and I heard one of the babies fuss for a
moment. Both of us froze and stared at the receiver, waiting to see if they
cried. I breathed a sigh of relief that whichever one it was did not wake up
fully. I didn’t really get a chance to respond to Derek before he leaned
forward and cupped my cheeks. He kissed me softly, reminding me of how
good it felt to be wanted by him. And when he pulled away, I pursued him.
“I missed you so much.” I leaned into him, pressing my lips to his again. I
had ached for this moment so long that I actually gave up thinking it would
happen. But here, with Derek sitting on the couch next to me confessing his
love, my heart felt so loved. He returned my kisses with an eagerness I had
missed.
My body began to respond to him, waking after so long to the feeling of
his touch. I rose and moved toward him, straddling him. My body was still
groggy from having been asleep, and I almost lost my balance, but he
steadied me as I lowered onto his lap. His hands searched my curves, a bit
more to love than before I had the babies. He didn’t seem to mind at all.
 “Make love to me, Derek,” I whispered against his mouth. His hands
pulled my hips down against his body hard as his teeth bit down on my lip. It
had been too long. I felt that familiar ache growing in my center, building as
his hands gripped my hips, thumbs digging into my flesh a little.
Derek’s hands pushed beneath my shirt, his thumbs smoothing across my
sides. It felt different, somehow more sensual than before, as if he were
allowing himself to feel the emotion behind the act rather than just chase the
physical release. I kissed him again, drawing my tongue across his, then
pulling away. Dad and Curt would be gone for hours. We had the house to
ourselves. So I pulled my shirt up over my head and tossed it aside.
Derek smiled and leaned back, watching me unhook the gawdy nursing
bra and toss it away too. His hands shot to my breasts, thumbs strumming my
nipples as he gently squeezed. The way he touched me pushed buttons, my
breasts more sensitive than they’d ever been, but not painful like while I was
pregnant. I couldn’t get enough of the way he pinched and twisted, and when
he hooked an arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him so he could
take a nipple into his mouth, I whimpered.
“Shit . . .” I hissed, his tongue drawing circles around it. “You’re going to
make me come so fast.”
He bit down and sent a spike of pain through me that quickly resolved
when he started sucking. My pussy screamed at me to get his clothes off and
get his dick in me, and at the very same time, I knew if we did that, there was
a chance I could get pregnant again. Not a huge one, but still. It made me
hesitate as he pushed his fingers into my waistband and started pulling the
elastic over my hips.
“Derek . . .” I rose up on my knees as he worked the pants lower.
“Derek?” He kissed my hip bone and scraped his teeth across my side. “I
don’t want to get pregnant again already.” He pushed me over, and I lay
down across the couch as he rose and pulled my stretch pants off.
“You’re like five weeks postpartum and you’re nursing, right?” He pulled
his polo up over his head and dropped it as I stared up at him. The corded
muscles of his chest made me need to touch myself. He was so incredibly
good looking.
“Yes, but . . .” I bit my lip as my fingers slid across my clit, dipping into
the moisture. Derek undid his belt and the fly of his jeans and kicked his
shoes off, then shimmied out of his pants. His cock stood hard and proud, and
he knelt between my legs.
 “But you’re worried?” He slid the head of his dick through my moisture,
teasing me.
“We didn’t learn our lesson the first time?” I snickered and pushed his
hand away, taking his cock into my grip. He was ridiculously hard. I wanted
him so badly.
“Well, I didn’t bring a condom. I didn’t expect this to happen.” He leaned
down, kissing me again, squeezing a breast as I stroked him. “I could just eat
you?” His hot breath against my skin as he kissed down to my earlobe drove
me wild.
I sucked in a gasp as his teeth clamped down. “Fuck . . . no, I want you in
me.” Though I wouldn’t have minded sucking him off.
“Well, we have one other option?”
He rose up and wagged his eyebrows at me as he pulled away from me.
He stroked himself a few times, then settled between my thighs and pushed
his dick into my pussy. He felt amazing. My muscles contracted around him
as he pushed into my back wall. I clawed at his hips as he started fucking me.
Every thought of getting pregnant warred against my desire. I wanted to
come.
“Fuck, if you keep doing that I will come.” My fingers left his side and
found my clit, massaging it and smearing my wetness around.
“That’s sort of the point.” His smirk only made it worse. He knew exactly
how to get me off, and he wasted no time diving in to push those buttons.
I lost it. My body hadn’t felt so amazing in months. I came so fast he
probably thought I faked it, but it was real. The waves of orgasm surged
through every muscle in my body until I melted into him, not even caring if
he got me pregnant. “Fuck me . . . please, fuck me.” I panted and clawed at
his back with one hand as our bodies collided, but he slowed. I heard him
holding his breath.
“Alright . . . I gotta slow down a second, because you’re going to hurt me
if I come in you.” He bit my ear again and glided in and out of me a few
more times. Then he pulled out.
“Wait. No, you don’t have to stop. You’re right. Nursing makes it less
likely that I’ll be ovulating and—”
“And who said I was stopping?” Derek gripped himself and slid the head
of his cock through my juices again but pushed lower, lining up to my ass.
“Hold your breath,” he ordered.
He barely gave me a second to respond before he forced his dick into me.
It burned, making me grit my teeth and yelp, but when he was in, it was
amazing. He pushed in deep, stretching me. It felt amazing.
“God, you’re so tight.” His eager thrusts sped up, and I found myself
touching my clit again.
“I love you.” It felt so good to be able to release my emotions and tell him
how I felt. He made me come again, and this time, he joined me. His release
usually came with grunts of satisfaction, but his lips covered mine and I
devoured his pleasure. When he collapsed, pressing me into the couch
cushions, I wrapped my arms around his torso and kissed his cheek.
“You’re crushing me.” I chuckled.

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 C H A P T E R T H I R T Y- S E V E N

Derek

I FELT COMPLETE .
After months of searching for her, I couldn’t have imagined a better
reunion. Maggie lay beneath me as I rose up, pulling out of her and letting
her readjust. She rolled to the side, and I slid behind her and held her. The
small throw blanket she’d been covered with when I walked in had fallen to
the floor, and she picked it up and covered our naked bodies with it. Holding
her had never felt so right. I didn’t remember a time when we lay like this
after sex, and I kicked myself for never offering.
I kissed the back of her shoulder and waited for her to speak, but she lay
quietly.
“Maggie, I want you to move in with me.” She stiffened, turning to her
back to look up at me. “I mean it. We love each other. It’s obvious we have
been in love a while, and I just couldn’t admit that.”
I watched her face. She didn’t seem angry or upset about it, but she also
didn’t smile. The thoughtful expression lingered there as she looked at the
baby monitor, then back to my face.
“Derek, I love you, but I think maybe we should take it a bit slower.”
Maggie readjusted the covers, pulling them up higher across her chest. It was
chilly, so I held her closer. It made me sad to hear that was her answer, but I
understood.
“I spoke to Curt, obviously.” She had a strand of hair across her face that
I pushed away as I spoke. “He was hurt that we kept things from him, but he
knows I’m not backing down this time. We’ve had a thing since we were
kids. He has to have seen that. Anyway, I told him I loved you and that I
knew those babies were mine.”
“Oh, yeah? How did that go?” She shivered, and I kissed her forehead.
“Well, I have a nice bruise on my jaw you just can’t see because of the
beard.” I chuckled and shifted, reaching for her clothes. “You need to get
dressed. You’re cold.”
Maggie sat up and took the clothes from me, dressing slowly as I
extricated myself from the couch, untangling my legs from the blanket. She
looked melancholy, and I wondered if I had said something wrong. I slid my
legs into my jeans and stood, pulling them up and fastening them. She didn’t
speak, and I didn’t press her. I figured this was all a bit overwhelming to her.
But when she looked up at me with a sad expression as I pulled my polo on, I
sat by her and put an arm around her.
“He really hit you?” Her lip quivered, and she hugged her arms over her
stomach.
“He did.”
She looked away from me, like she was hurting.
“He thought I’d somehow hurt you. Which I did.” Pinching her chin
between my thumb and forefinger, I turned her face so she would look at me.
“I’m sorry. I was a jerk.”
Her soft smile drew me in, and I kissed her softly. “I love you. You are
not a jerk. you were just hurting.” Her hand splayed across my chest, and I
looked down at it, realizing that her bare ring finger needed something on it.
It was the first time I thought of marrying her, but I didn’t even have to think
long about it. I wanted that more than anything.
“Maggie, it’s going to be fine.” I kissed her again then turned to put my
shoes on.
“Will it, though? When everyone at the office finds out you broke your
own rule? When the board finds out you slept with an employee? Derek, I left
town so you wouldn’t ruin your career for me, not just because you told me
you wanted nothing to do with a relationship.”
I could see the apprehension in her eyes. I hated myself at that moment
for making her feel that way. That rule had been to protect the integrity of my
office and my career, yes, but it had also been a standard practice for most
businesses. But lighting only strikes once in a man’s life, and I would have
been stupid to let the opportunity to connect with her pass by without
grabbing onto it.
“Maggie, before you even came on to me at that party, I’d had thoughts
of you. The day Barb interviewed you, I had thoughts. The minute I heard the
name Magnolia, I knew it was you. I remembered kissing you under those
bleachers, sneaking around behind Curt’s back, the way your father lectured
us about what is proper. Hell, my dad grounded me after I was already
eighteen because I was a sinner who needed to repent.” I laughed. “Curt told
him we were making out, and you should have seen the rage.”
Maggie smiled. “So it won’t matter if we’re dating? I mean, the hospital
board, the ethics committee? What about Gypsy and Barb? Tammy?”
“They’re going to have words, yes. I don’t care. I’m in love. You haven’t
worked for me for six months, and I don’t want you to work until these guys
are a little older.” I gestured at the baby monitor, realizing that I sounded
controlling. “I mean, unless you want to. In which case, you have your job.
We never hired anyone to replace you.”
“And Curt and Dad?” She snuggled up next to me, and I held her.
“Well, they don’t really get a say in what you do. You’re a grown
woman.” I saw the change of expression and added, “But I can understand
how you might respect their opinions. Maggie, we are adults now. I’m not a
twenty-year-old going after an underage teen. And we are in love. And we
have children together now.” Just saying that made my heart feel full. “They
will come around if we give them time.”
“We’re really doing this? Like, it’s actually happening?” I heard the
emotion in her voice and knew if I looked down at her face, I’d see tears.
“Yes. We are. And I’m not running away or pushing you away this time.
Because I want you in my life, every day, as long as I live. Mags, will you go
to dinner with me on Valentine’s Day?”
She smiled at me. “Of course I will. You’ll just have to convince Gypsy
to babysit.”
The monitor whined, and one of the babies started crying. It was the
tiniest cry of a newborn, and I smiled. “You want me to get them?”
She shook her head and sat up. “No, but you can come with me.” She
rose and took my hand, so I stood and followed her. She led me to the
bedroom at the end of the hallway. Warm air rushed out as she opened the
door, the room kept much warmer than the rest of the house, probably for the
babies’ sake. They lay in a single crib, swaddled up and touching each other,
just like we taught new moms to do with their twins.
“Jenson,” Maggie cooed as she picked him up, “meet your daddy.” She
bounced him a moment then handed him over to me. His cries grew softer as
she spoke to him, his little lip trembling. He was perfect. His nose and eyes
were exactly like mine, but he got his heart-shaped face from his mother.
“He’s perfect.” I hadn’t even taken time to really look at them the day
they were born because it was not my position to be their father at that point
in time. I was their doctor, and I had to finish the surgery and sew Maggie up.
So this moment to me was pivotal.
“And this is Isla.” She picked up my daughter and held her out to me.
They looked so much alike. I was a proud papa.
“We have a whole family now, don’t we?” I bounced Jenson as he started
to fuss again, and she grimaced.
“Let’s trade. I think he’s hungry.”
We swapped babies and found a place on the short sofa they had in the
room. Maggie appeared to be a pro already. She settled in and got Jenson to
latch on and her privacy cover in place just as we heard the front door open
and shut.
“Mags?” Curt called her name, and I heard his boots tromping on the
ground headed down the hall. “Maggie?”
“In here!” she called, startling Isla. The baby fussed a bit, but I patted her
back and swayed, calming her. “Sorry.” Maggie winced and looked up as
Curt walked in.
“Oh, uh, sorry to interrupt. I saw your truck outside. I knew you were
here.” Curt was dressed head to toe in camouflage. He held a sock hat in hand
and his hair stood on end, drenched in sweat. “We got one!”
Maggie grinned. “A buck?” She tried to turn, but I could see her struggle
with the little load on her lap. It had only been five weeks since her cesarean,
so I knew she wasn’t fully healed yet.
“No, a big doe, though. Dad’s dragging her in now.” He ran a hand over
his sweat-slicked head. “Derek, you need to put that baby down because we
need to dress this dear and hoist her into Dad’s truck. He can’t do that sort of
lifting anymore, and well, Maggie can’t do it right now.”
I grinned. It had been years since I’d helped with a kill. I was shocked
Curt had agreed to go hunting with his father at all, given his recent move
toward pacifism. “Sure, I’d love to help.” I rose and kissed Maggie on the
head, then laid Isla in the crib. “But I’m not getting bloody. I cut up humans,
not animals.” I winked at Maggie, and she rolled her eyes at me.
As I followed Curt out to the front of the house and put my boots back on,
then my coat, I thought of how this had been the norm when we were in high
school. Hunting trips, fishing trips, even camping and bonfires. We weren’t
kids anymore, but we were still as close as we always had been, and now the
man I once wished was my brother—instead of Peter—would really be my
brother . . . if Maggie would agree to marry me. And gutting a deer for
market was just about the most perfect task to be doing while asking Tony for
Maggie’s hand in marriage.

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 EPILOGUE

Maggie

“A ND JUST MAKE sure you don’t use the microwave for the bottles. Use the
bottle warmer because of the—”
“Maggie.” Gypsy cut me off, staring me down. “I’m a nurse. I work in an
obstetrics office and I’m doing my residency with a GP. We are the folks
who tell you this stuff.” She smiled and pushed me with her free hand toward
the door. Jenson wriggled in her arm, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Fine.” I reluctantly turned toward the door where Derek waited for me.
He wore a black tux, complete with bowtie and cummerbund. Gypsy
followed me carrying Jenson while Dad sat on the couch holding Isla. It was
the first time I had left them alone since they were born, and a part of me felt
like I was deserting them. Derek had tried to encourage me that all mothers
go through this, but I knew I was the worst mother in the world.
“We’ll be great, Mags. Have a good night.” Dad waved a hand at me,
blowing me a kiss. He had accepted Derek’s appearance in my life a lot
quicker than Curt was. Dad always knew how Derek felt about me. At least,
that was what Derek told me. They’d had talks when we were kids.
Curt, however, would take a bit of coaxing to come around fully. He told
me he understood that we were adults and he couldn’t stop us, but he was still
upset and hurt by the fact that I had lied to him. Only time would heal that
wound, and Curt realizing that I was not dating Derek just to hurt him. Derek
was the most amazing man I’d ever met. I owed it to myself to see where this
went.
“Ready?” Derek offered his arm, and I slipped my hand around his bicep.
He led me out the door and to his truck. I was grateful that for the first time in
history, February wasn’t quite as cold as it should have been. With temps in
the fifties, we were experiencing a warming trend, which I hoped meant
spring was coming early this year. I needed only a light jacket over my black
dress.
He opened the door, and I climbed in. He buckled in after me and headed
out toward the restaurant. He seemed impatient to get there, but I didn’t
complain. I was starving. Valentine’s dinner meant delicious food and adult
conversation that wouldn’t get interrupted by crying and changing diapers. I
breathed a sigh of relief and smiled at him.
“What’s up?” he asked, eyes sparkling.
“Just thinking how grateful I am to Gypsy for babysitting so we could
have this evening. Parenting is a full-time job. It’s good to have a short
break.” I watched the scenery pass by as Derek drove. He hadn’t told me
where we were going for dinner, just to dress in a formal gown. The most
formal gown I had that fit me was a nice A-line off the shoulder, T-length
dress. I felt like it flattered my curves well.
“Yes, Gypsy is a gem. I don’t know what we’d do without her.” Derek
turned onto the highway headed toward Gatesville, the next largest city up
the road. I smiled at him and clucked my tongue.
“What do you have up your sleeve?”
He winked at me. “I told you it’s fancy.” His boyish grin made me
chuckle. Derek wasn’t one for putting on the ritz, but I did enjoy dressing up
now and then. He probably did this for me, knowing my penchant for fancy
dinners. After the children’s hospital benefit escapade, I deserved a redo.
“So, how is the birthing wing coming? I guess your dad told my dad in
church last week. That is so amazing.” Small talk was overrated, but this was
anything but. To hear that Derek’s father had donated the entirety of his
inheritance savings to Hudson Valley was unbelievable. Derek had been
commuting three days a week and staying only two days—insisting that he be
close by in case I needed him. It was a sweet gesture.
“Well, we are almost done with the planning stages. I have only six
weeks left on my contract, but it sounds like they found the new director, so I
will likely be returning to Mercy full-time soon. I have Dr. Pritchert and a
few CNMs to hold down the fort in Evansville. I think once that office is very
stable, I might expand to the south.” He talked as he drove, adjusting the heat
down a bit.
“So you’re not going to comment about your dad?” I snickered. “Seems
like you’d have a lot to say about that.”
“Yeah, well what’s to say? Maybe God really does work in mysterious
ways.” He shrugged and took my hand. We chatted a bit more about Peter
and how his therapy was helping. When he pulled his truck into the parking
lot of the restaurant, my jaw dropped.
“La Rosarita?” Only the fanciest Italian place in a hundred miles. “This
place costs a fortune.”
“I know.” Derek waggled his eyebrows and slid out of the truck, rounding
the corner to open the door for me. He held out his hand. “Shall we?”
I grinned at him. “We shall!”
The hostess didn’t make us wait at all. She led us straight to a table close
to the back. Each table had a long red velvet curtain that could be drawn
around it for privacy. The ones near the back wall also had a circular booth
that wrapped around the table, providing more intimacy. Derek let me slide in
and took my coat. Tiny hooks between the booths served as a means to store
coats during colder months.
The black leather contrasted with golden place settings and white
tablecloths. This place was so ritzy I felt spoiled. Derek had really gone all
out to set this up.
“Thank you for doing this.” I gestured at the fancy table setting.
“Well, the wait staff probably did this.” He laughed. “But you’re
welcome. You deserve to eat in luxury every day.” He unrolled his silverware
from the black cloth napkin and snapped the cloth, then draped it over his lap.
“I love Italian. You knew that, right?” I picked up the glass of water and
sipped it.
“How could I forget spaghetti night? I know my girl.”
I laughed at the nostalgic feeling I got when he brought up our family
tradition. Mom started it when I was just a young girl, but Dad kept it going
as a means to keep normalcy after her death. Derek was invited on Tuesday
nights every week to enjoy spaghetti and garlic bread. Sometimes, we had
meatballs, sometimes meat sauce. Every time, we had gelato.
“This is really nice, Derek. Thank you.”
The waiter took our order and brought us a bottle of champagne, and we
settled in for dinner. It was just as delicious as I expected it to be, and the
gelato—homemade, just like Mom’s—was to die for. I didn’t want the
evening to end, even when I had to sneak away to the restroom to replace the
nursing pads in my bra after my milk let down. My heart felt whole.
When I headed back to the table, Derek looked nervous. He let me sit
down but took my hand, not letting me scoot around the curve of the circular
booth. His hand shook. His palm felt a little sweaty on my arm.
“What are you doing?” I peered up at him, gawking at how awkward he
must look to other patrons still eating. He hadn’t even bothered to pull the
curtain around our booth.
“This,” he said, dropping to one knee. “Magnolia, I need to say I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for you when we were kids. I’m sorry I didn’t
tell your brother how incredible you were and demand that he allow us to be
together. We wasted so much time when all along, we knew we belonged
together.
“I don’t want to waste any more time. Your strength carried me out of
one of the darkest holes I’ve ever fallen into. When I had that car accident in
college and realized that life was so short, I got cleaned up and went back to
college, only to come home and find my mom was so sick she would die
without help. I begged Dad to do something, Mom to take medicine. Nothing
worked.
“When she slipped away, I thought I lost everything. And then you came
into my life and I found it again. I found hope and joy. I found my passion for
helping women again. I have reconciled with my father and Peter . . . Maggie,
your kind heart, your patience, your love—they are what helped me.
“Now, I want to love you the rest of my life. I want that strength and joy
right by my side, always. I want you as my best friend, my partner, my lover,
and the mother of my children, however many more we have.” He reached
into his pocket and pulled out a ring, a small, dainty thing—white gold with a
small setting. I loved it. My eyes welled up.
“Maggie, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
I couldn’t respond to him. I covered my nose and mouth and let the tears
fall. They weren’t hormonal tears or sad tears. I just couldn’t express how
much this moment meant to me. I nodded through the emotion, and Derek
took my hand, practically prying it away from my face to slide the ring on my
finger. It was a tad on the large size, but I’d get it sized down. I looked at it
for a moment, but the ring didn’t hold my interest.
I draped myself around him, crying into his shoulder. “I love you.” I
squeezed him so hard he had to have had trouble breathing. And then I began
to hear applause. I opened my eyes and sat up, watching a few tables around
us that had not drawn their curtains. The people clapped and smiled.
Then an older woman, seated next to a charming older man, began
tapping her fork on her stemware. The next thing we knew, the entire
restaurant joined the call, tapping metal against glass in a charge for us to
kiss. Derek planted his lips on mine. This was all I wanted the rest of my life,
to love this man and be loved by him.
The rest was history.

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 EXTENDED EPILOGUE

Gypsy

Chasing two one-year-olds was not my idea of fun, but my best friend
Maggie was marrying her high-school sweetheart and I wouldn’t miss it for
the world. I had Jenson and Isla’s double stroller there, both of them strapped
into it and enjoying their bottles. They were finally old enough to hold the
things up themselves, which made my job a bit easier until they wanted to
start walking around.
“See you finally got them in one place.” Tony snickered and sat down
beside me. Maggie’s father was a kind old man. He’d been helping me for
hours with the little tykes who gave even Maggie a run for her money.
“Yes, well let’s hope they drift off to sleep now.” I sipped my soda.
Playing babysitter meant no drinking for me. It was still early in the day. The
ceremony would start soon, and if they kids napped, I would get to enjoy it
all. Barb had offered to hold Jenson if both were fussy at once, which was a
huge help. I’d already changed their outfits twice. Maggie planned matching
clothes so they’d be extra cute. Luckily enough, they had three different
outfits for each, all identical and coordinating in case they soiled themselves.
“Looks like the photographer is calling me back for some pictures. I think
we have about fifteen minutes to show time.” Tony stood and patted my
shoulder. “I’ll come sit by you once I hand her off.”
“Thanks, Tony. You give her a kiss for me, but tell her I’m still sore that
Curt got to stand for her instead of me.” I winked at him. Maggie’s choice to
have a best man instead of a maid of honor was respectable. It was a new
trend to have a man stand with the bridal party and a woman as a
groomsman. Maggie and Derek had chosen Peter and Curt, and I couldn’t
have been happier.
The entire hall had been set up in a nontraditional fashion, the dining
tables for the reception already spread out and decorated. A silver runner
spread across the floor between the tables indicated the aisle where Tony
would walk Maggie toward the small pedestal at the front. White roses and
pink peonies decorated every table, and every chair had a white cover
complete with silver ribbon and more roses and peonies tied around the
backs.
Jenson tossed his bottle and giggled at it as it rolled across the floor. He
smacked Isla, then tried to steal her bottle, so I had to hold his hand back
from her. “No, no, Jenson. Let sissy drink her bottle.” He grinned at me and
pinched my fingers. Maggie and Derek had their hands full with this guy.
“You’re ornery.” I smiled at him and touched my finger to his nose. “Boop.”
He giggled and touched his own nose, then pointed. “Mama.” I looked up
but did not see Maggie anywhere, which meant he was calling for her, not
that he’d seen her. He didn’t get fussy, though, so I was thankful for that.
When Maggie’s Aunt Becky hobbled over—foot in a cast after a slip on
some ice—and sat down, I felt relief. I had to pee so badly. Becky had been
part of the wedding planning committee. We’d done wedding dress shopping
and flower shopping, and even cake testing, together. Maggie had insisted
that since her mother could not be there, she’d include Becky. I knew that
Maggie would approve of the older woman watching the twins while I ran to
the toilet before the service started.
“Hey, Becky. I have a huge favor. I’ve been with these guys for hours and
I have to—”
“Say no more. Auntie Becky is here to save the day!” She waved her
hand at me and smiled. “Just push them over here. You might want to grab
that bottle, too, before it gets stepped on or kicked away.”
I pushed the stroller toward her and then picked up the bottle. After
glancing at the clock on the wall, I realized I had less than ten minutes before
things got heated up. Most guests were already seated, though there were still
quite a few empty chairs. I didn’t know who was missing since I didn’t help
with guest lists or seating arrangements.
I hustled off to the bathroom to relieve myself, and while I was in there, I
checked my hair and makeup. Then I took a deep breath and let the tension
out of my shoulders. I would have these babies for two weeks while Derek
and Maggie were on their honeymoon, and I was already feeling a bit
stressed out. I didn’t know how Maggie did it. Though I supposed when it
was thrust upon you as a surprise, you didn’t have much choice but to rise to
the occasion.
Finished in the bathroom, I headed back out, suddenly thinking about the
baby I lost when I was younger. My head was down, my thoughts on how
fortunate Maggie was to have had a successful pregnancy when I slammed
into a broad chest.
“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry—”
My words caught in my throat. I stared into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.
Eyes that were connected to a face I recognized. The strawberry blond hair,
the scruffy stubble . . . I never thought I’d see him again.
“Evan.”
“Gypsy.”
We spoke at the same time, both of us clearly shocked at the appearance
of the other. It had been eight years since I last saw him, the day before he
shipped out. The day before my heart broke in so many ways I had never
been able to fix it. I had no words. I stood there frozen in place and staring at
him. My jaw gaped like the jowls of a Saint Bernard, but thankfully without
the drool.
“What are you doing here?” Evan looked around and touched my elbow,
backing me against the wall out of the line of sight down the hallway.
“Maggie is my best friend. You?” I couldn’t believe he was standing in
front of me. He hadn’t changed a bit except to get more handsome, broader
shoulders, and a little more facial hair.
“Derek kinda took me in when I came home. I didn’t know you lived in
Yellow Springs now.”
The chemistry between us hadn’t faded in the time we had been apart. I
felt the magnetic energy bouncing between us. The way his eyes flicked to
my lips then back to my face, I could think of nothing else but to kiss him.
But my heart . . .
“Why did you never call? I wrote to you a dozen times. I sent emails. I
needed you.” The emotion of a lifetime flooded back, the pain and hurt, the
love and ache I felt as I pined away, mourning our child. A child he had
known nothing about. I felt so much shame putting pressure on him to tell me
why he’d kept secrets from me when I hadn’t told him about the baby.
“Gypsy, now really isn’t the time.” He stepped closer, his cologne so
intoxicating I thought my knees would buckle. His body melded against mine
as voices passed nearby, as if he were trying to hide me away in shame. The
problem was, I wasn’t even angry about it this time. I wanted him to. I
wanted him to take me in that bathroom and fuck me against the stall door
like we did the last day of my senior year.
I held my breath, watching his eyes float downward to my lips again. His
grip on my elbow tightened. he leaned in.
“Evan, I . . .”
My eyes fluttered shut. My lips parted. His mouth brushed over mine so
slightly that I almost missed it, and then he dived in. His kiss was just as
amazing as I remembered, the tip of his tongue dancing over mine. He
backed me against the wall harder, pressing his body against mine until I felt
the growing bulge in his pants. His hands greedily explored my curves,
searching for something.
I let him enjoy me, his hands grabbing my breasts and ass, then cupping
my cheeks and messing my hair up. I didn’t care. I had what felt like a
hundred lifetimes of pining to make up for.
“Gypsy!” Someone called out my name, which made Evan pull away. His
intent eyes locked on mine.
“I’m babysitting . . .” I muttered, biting my lip. “Maggie and Derek’s
twins.”
Evan looked disappointed, as if under any other circumstance, we’d have
blown off the wedding and gone somewhere private. His chest heaved, and
he took my hand, sliding it between us. He rubbed it along his pants, and I
felt his cock, hard and hungry.
“See what you do to me? What you’ve always done to me?” He kissed
me again and bit my lower lip. “When you’re done babysitting, call me.
Derek knows how to get ahold of me.”
And then he was gone, leaving me flustered and disheveled. I watched
him walk back into the hall and disappear, and I took a deep, cleansing
breath. I felt panicked and overwhelmed, but simultaneously aroused and
needy. If Evan was in town, it opened a huge can of worms I’d kept sealed
and buried for almost a decade. But it also offered me the opportunity to find
love in his arms again, after so long.
“Gypsy!”
I cleared my throat, tossed my hair, and headed back toward the hall. My
only mission for the rest of this night was to avoid having to tell Evan the
secret I’d kept from him. Our baby was stillborn.
Gypsy gets her very own story soon. Meanwhile, you can binge read
my most successful Forbidden Temptations series here.

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CHRISTMAS IN THE CABIN
(PREVIEW)
OceanofPDF.com
 DESCRIPTION

Driving home for Christmas, I couldn’t outrun the snow or Nick

Wallace.
I had travelled the world, but nothing prepared me for that fateful night
in his cabin…
Not even for the baby girl who arrived eight months later.

There were secrets pride urged me to keep.

Nick never learned about his daughter, our daughter,
And I kept my word that my father would never know what we did.
Their friendship didn’t need to be shattered like all my hopes.

Now, fate is calling me back home for an extended holiday season.

There will be no quick getaway this time.

People say that time heals all wounds, but what can an all-consuming kiss
do?
Everything always looks better under the glow of holiday lights,
But will the harsh light of reality be the end of everything I once craved from
Nick?

This Christmas, will I finally stop running?

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PROLOGUE

OceanofPDF.com
DARCY
Over and over, I turned the key in the ignition. Every time I thought the
engine might rumble to life, it failed me again, and all my hopefulness
dwindled into helplessness. Stuck on the side of the mountain, I had another
thirty minutes to get to my dad’s place, but my Mustang wasn’t going to
make it. My dear Shelby was beautiful, but she couldn’t fight the snow and
ice piling up in this wild storm. She could only sit there and maybe keep me
warm.
Looking at the gas gauge, I realized that wouldn’t be much longer, either.
The little red hand sat around the one-quarter mark. I didn’t know if that was
enough to keep the heat running all night long. If the gas could somehow
make it to morning, I imagined the car’s battery might not.
No bars on my cell phone. No chance of driving out of this ditch. Plus, I
was a little too far out of the small mountain town to walk back for salvation.
“Merry freakin’ Christmas to me,” I muttered.
The cheerful music on the radio sounded like it was mocking me. With a
huff, I pulled the key from the little slot. The speakers went dead. The heat
stopped blowing from the vents, but there was enough heat in the car to keep
me warm. I had my mittens and my hat . . .
I was definitely going to die. Froze to death in her car, the obituary
would say. I could already see the local news’s headlines.
“Black Sheep?”
The voice made me jump. Turning my head, a familiar pair of blue eyes
met mine. I couldn’t believe it.
“Nick?” I called through the icy window. “Is that you?”
I didn’t need to ask. I had memorized every strand of his sandy blond hair
and the crooked bridge of his nose. It was the only imperfection on his
otherwise perfect face. The smile he offered always looked wry, even when
he was being earnest.
With that same grin, he exclaimed, “Funny running into you out here!”
“No, it isn’t!” I protested. “I’m stuck.”
“Then, get out of the car!”
I scoffed. “You just want me to abandon my car?”
“It’s not going anywhere!”
 As I glanced through the windshield, snowflakes fatter than goose
feathers were starting to cover my car. He was right. This was my one chance
at a Christmas miracle.
I had to take it.
Bracing myself for the cold, I grabbed my purse from the front seat
before rushing to the trunk. I shuddered against the wind, trying to unlock it
with my mitten-clad hands. God, I didn’t want to take them off. My fingers
would be purple in seconds.
“Give me the keys,” Nick insisted.
I looked over to his shoulder and then up at his face. His red knit cap had
his blond hair pushed down across his intent gaze. He was used to the cold,
making it easier to retrieve my suitcase and throw it in the backseat of his old
blue Chevrolet. Shivering again, I didn’t protest.
“I guess I should thank you,” I said as Nick slid into the cab beside me. “I
would probably have died out here.”
“Oh, you’re tougher than that, but why were you driving that thing in a
snowstorm? What happened to your hatchback, and shouldn’t you have some
boyfriend with you? Bill mentioned you were seeing someone.”
“I sold it when I left for Costa Rica. I didn’t need two cars, especially
when I was going to be out of the country.”
“Is that where you’ve been?” he wondered while shifting into drive.
“Costa Rica was in the spring and South America this summer. I did a
Schengen visa in Europe this fall. I got back from Copenhagen last week.
That’s where I left the boyfriend.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
I shook my head. “Don’t be. I’m certainly not.”
We had only ever been a traveling fling. He wanted to head east to New
Zealand. I wanted to head home for the holidays. As fun as the guy was, there
was no point in pretending we were a great love affair.
Nick laughed, flashing that teasing grin. “Did you visit that Red-Light
District?”
“You’re thinking of Amsterdam, and do you think I’m the kind of person
to visit brothels and sex shops?”
“No, Black Sheep, you’ve never been that kind of girl.”
“Darcy.” I sighed. “Why can’t you ever call me Darcy?”
He chuckled again, turning around the switchback edge of the mountain.
It didn’t matter that we could barely see. Nick knew these roads like the back
of his hand. He probably had every inch of Banner Elk and the surrounding
mountains memorized. I just had to settle into my seat and try to keep calm.
It was never easy being around him, especially in close quarters.
“What?” he teased. “You don’t like your old nickname?”
“It was fine back in the day, but I’m twenty-five now.”
“How about Darlin’ Darcy Rose?” Nick persisted with his game. “I can’t
call you that anymore either?”
I shifted in my seat, averting my eyes. “I would prefer you didn’t.”
“Fine, Darcy it is then.”
“Thank you.” I paused, glancing out the window. “So . . . why were you
in town, anyway?”
“I was picking up my mail before the post office closed. I needed some
odds and ends from the store. You know, the usual.”
Nick turned right when he should have turned left.
“This isn’t the way to my dad’s.”
He shook his head. “Oh, I’m not taking you out to your dad’s.”
“What?” I turned to watch the road’s fork vanish from view. “Nick, he
doesn’t know where I am! My phone wasn’t working back there! Just let me
out. I’ve got bars now. I can call him.”
“You want me to leave you out on the side of a road . . . on Christmas
Eve . . . in the dark . . . in a snowstorm?”
As he laughed, I remembered hoping to be home in time for Christmas
Eve dinner, but I figured that was a pipe dream.
“I’m sure Dad could come get me.”
“Visibility is getting worse by the minute. You really want your father out
in this?”
“No,” I mumbled begrudgingly.
Nick flashed a triumphant grin. “That’s what I thought. Now, my cabin is
only ten minutes from here. You can spend the night with me, and I’ll take
you over to your dad’s house in the morning. You’ll be there just in time to
dump out your stocking and eat your special Christmas breakfast. I promise.”
“Fine. It’s not like I have much of a choice, anyway.”
“No, you don’t.”
Surrendering, I crossed my arms over my chest and wondered, “When did
you even get this cabin?”
“I got rid of my grandparents’ old trailer. I used the land to build this
place last year.”
 “I guess I have been away for a while, then.”
The truck rumbled. The road shifted from smooth asphalt to uneven
gravel. Nick slowed to a crawling pace as we passed through trees and caught
glimpses of Christmas lights glowing in the night. At the far end, we rounded
a patch of woods and came into a clearing where a log cabin sat with a green
metal roof, a big stone chimney, and a carport on the side.
The little cabin looked like a haven in the dark, gray night. The winds
whipped around us. I hated to open the truck door, but I told myself it was
safer inside. Everything would be better if I just got inside the house, so in a
rush, Nick grabbed my suitcase from the back and led me through the side
door. The mudroom had hooks on the walls and a place for our boots. Passing
by the washer and dryer, we stepped into the kitchen that felt undeniably
warm.
It wasn’t just the temperature. The place was just so cozy. I recognized
half of the furniture from his grandparents’ place, like the old kitchen table
and the China hutch complete with blue Wedgwood plates. Even the olive-
green cabinets had their charm, but I couldn’t rest easily in the space.
Nick’s hair still fell across his eyes. His cheeks were pink from the
winter’s icy cold. I had run all over the world, but I couldn’t escape him, not
here, not in this storm.
“I got a lasagna at the store,” he declared while setting down his paper
grocery bag. “I was planning to bake it for dinner. That okay?”
“I’m good with lasagna,” I assured him.
“Good. You can take the bed upstairs. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
My shoulders slumped. I had to protest.
“No, Nick, I can’t put you out.”
“It’s no big deal,” he insisted while unpacking his groceries. “I fall asleep
on the couch all the time watching television. Just go upstairs. You can put
your stuff down and get comfortable.”
“Okay, okay.”
I didn’t need many directions. There was only a loft over the back of the
house. Walking past the bathroom and behind the couch, I caught sight of the
little Christmas tree covered in colorful lights and old ornaments sitting just
beside the fireplace. The bedroom overlooked the living room with its large
bed and simple furnishings. Nick had never been the kind of man to need
much, but he did have a few things around from his past. I was pretty sure the
patchwork quilt was something his Grandma Peggy had made.
 Not dwelling on the man’s bed, I got myself out of my cold jeans and
sweater, trading them for leggings and my oversized Duke sweatshirt. It was
big enough that it didn’t matter if I wore a bra. My chest just looked like a
heap of heathered gray cotton. With my wild thicket of dark hair pulled up
into a bun, I decided there was nothing attractive about this outfit.
Nick Wallace would never want me anyway, cute pajamas or otherwise.
After calling Dad to explain, I followed my nose back downstairs to the
kitchen. Nick might not have been trying, but I hated how good he looked
with his flannel’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows. I could see the tattoos
scattered across his right arm, including the bright petals of a blooming red
rose.
His backside in those jeans didn’t help, either.
“Need any help?” I asked while forcing my voice not to crack.
He slid the lasagna into the oven, and the heavy metal door creaked shut.
Nick set a timer.
“You could cut up some lettuce.”
I tried to joke. “I didn’t know you ate salad. I always took you for a meat
and potatoes man.”
Fortunately, he chuckled. “I don’t mind eating a few green leaves every
so often. Besides, I’m not a teenager anymore. I can’t just eat crap and expect
to fit in my pants.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling.”
Nick definitely wasn’t a teenager. He was in his late thirties and about
fourteen years too old for me, but that didn’t change how my heart fluttered
when he got close. It didn’t change how I leaned into the smell of the clean
scents of aftershave and pine tar soap. I swallowed hard.
“You got anything to drink?” I asked while working hard to chop up the
romaine.
“I, um, have some sweet tea and some beer.”
“You got anything stronger?”
“Whiskey?”
“Sounds great,” I replied with a forced smile. “Let’s put a little tea in that
and call it a cocktail.”
“All right,” Nick agreed. “What’s botherin’ you, then?”
“Bothering me?”
“You always get jittery when something’s bothering you, and I’ve never
known you to drink anything stronger than a shandy.”
 “Well, I’m not that girl anymore. I enjoy plenty of cocktails now,
especially margaritas and palomas.”
“That doesn’t mean something’s not botherin’ you.”
I grumbled to myself. Of course, Nick had to be the guy who gave me my
first drink. Shaking my head, I forced away the unhelpful thought. I couldn’t
just melt into a puddle on his kitchen floor.
“I just feel bad about not getting home tonight,” I lied.
“Don’t worry too much,” Nick tried to assure me. “I’m sure your Uncle
Mickey and Aunt Erin are keepin’ your dad company tonight.”
“Yeah, they’re probably playing card games and listening to Dad’s old
Christmas cassettes.”
I could see it all in my mind’s eye, letting my muscles and my worries
ease themselves. Everything felt easier by the time we sat down to dinner. I
was already working on my second spiked sweet tea, and Nick was nursing a
beer. Our little salad and take-and-bake lasagna tasted pretty good.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Darcy,” he offered, clinking his bottle to my
glass.
“Merry Christmas Eve,” I repeated before gulping back more of my tea.
“So, it’s only seven thirty. What do you want to do?”
I wanted to bury myself under his quilt and forget where I was.
“We could watch a movie,” I suggested instead. “Or . . . we could play a
card game, or um, you got checkers?”
“I’ve got a deck of cards, no checkers.”
“Well then, I guess this night is ruined.”
Nick rolled his eyes and offered that wry grin. “Sure, it is, Black Sheep.”
I rolled my eyes at the old nickname but said nothing. He was letting me
sleep in his bed for the night. He was feeding me dinner. I couldn’t complain.
I just needed a third sweet tea to get over it.
With It’s A Wonderful Life playing in the background, Nick and I found
ourselves playing our fourth game of Go Fish on the plush brown couch. We
played by the light of the Christmas tree and the fire burning in the heavy
stone fireplace while a red plaid blanket covered my lap. On the little screen
in the corner, George and Mary were finally getting hitched.
“You got any threes?” I asked Nick.
“Go Fish.”
I reached over to the coffee table, a slab of heavy wood straight from the
trunk. The bark still ran along the rough edges, but I didn’t focus on the piece
of furniture. My tipsy head was too excited.
“I fished my wish!” I exclaimed too giddily, laying down a book of
threes. “Now, do you have any queens?”
“Here,” Nick surrendered.
Handing over his two queens, it was only a matter of seconds before I
was declared the winner, but we only could play the same game for so long
before the fun faded.
“I think that’s enough Go Fish,” Nick declared, gathering the cards.
“What now, then?”
His head turned toward the television. “We could just watch the movie.”
As I settled myself down, George Bailey’s honeymoon began. Rain
poured down outside his house like the snow falling down outside. I watched
as his new wife smiled at him. My body curled tighter against the end of the
couch.
“You know, I ran into Kevin Booth when I was at the grocery store,”
Nick remarked. “He asked about you, wanted to know if I knew where you
were.”
Kevin Booth took me to my senior prom. We were together for less than a
month, and he was my only foray into dating in high school.
“Why would he ask about me?”
Nick shrugged. “Maybe he’s still into you. Why? You don’t like him
anymore? I thought he was your first crush. I’ve certainly never heard of you
dating anyone else.”
George and Mary were heading to bed. They looked so happy together.
“He wasn’t my first crush,” I blurted out.
“Then, who was?”
“Nobody you know.”
“I’ve served beer to just about everyone within fifty miles of here,” he
remarked in disbelief. “I’m sure I know him.”
“No, you really don’t.”
He prodded my shoulder. “Come on, don’t lie to me.”
“Nick.”
“Is it really that big of a deal? It’s ancient history.”
No, it damn well wasn’t.
“I thought we were gonna watch this movie.”
“We will,” he said with a chuckle, “right after you tell me who you liked
instead of Kevin.”
 I knew exactly what I was doing, but I’d had too much whiskey to care.
“You, okay?” I huffed before taking a gulp of my drink.
There was no sense of shame as I turned to meet Nick’s surprised eyes. It
was the most serious I’d ever seen on him. His Southern lilt grew thicker with
the rasp of his voice.
“What are you talkin’ about?”
“I liked you, Nick. You were always the good-looking bartender at my
dad’s bar, and well, you were always nice to me. That didn’t help. I was
eighteen and foolish. Honestly, what did you expect?”
Apparently, whiskey was a truth serum for me. I used my last scrap of
good sense to decide to never drink it again.
“You think I’m . . . good-lookin’?”
God, Nick’s baritone voice sounded like whiskey tasted—strong, dark,
and damn intoxicating.
“Does that make you uncomfortable?”
“No,” he said. “You’re just Black Sheep.”
“You also called me ‘Darling Darcy Rose’.”
“It’s just a nickname,” he insisted, quickly at a loss for words. “You were
always hanging around the bar. You were Bill’s daughter. It didn’t mean . . . I
never . . . I–I think you’ve had too much to drink.”
“No, I haven’t. I could touch my toes right now. I could do it and sing a
whole song in French.”
“Darcy, you don’t—”
I cut him off by trying to stand, but I hadn’t prepared for getting caught
up in the blanket. I wasn’t ready for anything. All too quickly, I stumbled and
found myself falling into Nick’s capable arms. His face was inches from
mine, and my hand managed to press into his strong thigh. My fingers were
inches from the bulge in his dark jeans.
Was it always that big or is he just happy to see me?
“I really shouldn’t be taking advantage of you,” I mumbled. “You’ve had
two beers tonight.”
“Three,” Nick amended.
“I’m not drunk, but you probably are. I should, uh, just go to bed.”
“Yes, you should.”
And yet, my whole body was frozen in place. The heat rising up my spine
should have me thawed out, but I couldn’t move away. I was trapped in the
steely-blue cage that was Nick’s gaze. I could see the chiseled lines of his
face and smell the scent of aftershave looming on his neck.
Back in the kitchen, a cuckoo clock chimed midnight.
“Merry Christmas, Nick,” I offered softly.
His chest rose and fell with labored breath. “Why did you say those
things?”
“Because you asked.”
“What, would you do anything I asked of you?”
“Maybe.”
He exhaled heavily. “Darcy . . .”
Nick muttered my name like a curse, but he didn’t push me away.
Nothing could stop our lips from meeting. It felt as inevitable as the
snowstorm outside. One kiss became two, and two turned into more.
Growing dizzy and light, my head fell against the throw pillows. I could feel
Nick’s calloused hands sliding under my sweatshirt and cupping my breasts. I
didn’t stop myself from moaning into his mouth.
It was everything I’d always wanted. All those years of pining finally
culminated in this.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he muttered, his kisses wandering down to
my throat.
I could feel his bulge growing hard against my thigh. No matter what he
said, I could feel how Nick wanted me, even if I didn’t totally believe it. It
was right there in his hungry kiss and roving hands, but it still didn’t feel real.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered.
“Hell, Darcy.”
The scene became a mixture of golden, dim light and cold shadows. The
fire began to die out as our clothes became a pile on the floor. Every time
Nick exposed a new piece of me, his mouth devoured the skin. His broad
frame consumed mine, and I was nothing but happily helpless under him.
I had found my haven in the snow. He was six-foot-four and smelled like
winter and smoke. My fingers could run freely through his hair and down his
tanned chest, and I didn’t think to hide. It was never like me to shy away. I
could only let my legs spread wider as Nick’s hand began to feel me out. He
found me dripping wet, ready, and willing. His two fingers traced my folds
with slow intention.
“You shouldn’t be this beautiful,” Nick growled. “I shouldn’t want you
like this.”
I pleaded in a whisper, “Let me have you this once. It’ll only be one
time.”
His lips crashed against mine again, and our bodies connected. I felt
every inch of him push into me. As I shut my eyes, my head fell back. My
hips knew how to move. My hands knew to anchor themselves against his
shoulders. Every piece of me began to move on instinct while pleasure built
up inside me. It grew like a fire, sparking and flourishing into a raging swell
of flames in my heart.
That’s what we were—shadows and skin, bone and smoke. Nick rocked
me into the deepest climax I’d ever known, and he left nothing but the bones
on my skin. Breathless and gasping, I inhaled the scent of the wood fire as
my eyes opened. Shadows grew over us together.
I never made it to bed that night. In the morning, the sunrise woke me.
Squinting my eyes, I took in a deep breath scented with pine soap, salt on
skin, and the ashes of a cold hearth. The world outside looked white, and I
was pinned between the back of the couch and Nick’s naked frame. His
tattooed arm fastened me against him over our blanket.
“Darcy?” I heard Nick grumble as he opened his eyes. “Dammit. Damn it
all.”
His swears sounded nothing like the night before. There was no wry smile
on his face or touch of affection. In a rush, I felt him pull away from me
before finding his boxers and jeans. The world quickly grew cold. I wrapped
the blanket around me to keep warm, but it wasn’t enough.
“I shouldn’t’ve let this happen,” he muttered in a rush. “We’d both been
drinking. I should’ve known better. God, what would Bill think? After all
he’s done for me, I wouldn’t blame him for shootin’ me dead.”
The fire had gone out. My heart froze over.
“You’re right,” I declared quickly, unable to listen to any more of Nick’s
muttering. “We had both been drinking. It was stupid, and nobody will ever
know, especially Dad.”
Buttoning his jeans, Nick looked at me with apologetic eyes. “Darcy . . .”
No warmth lingered in the sound.
“It’s fine,” I insisted, standing with the blanket. “I’m gonna get dressed so
you can take me home.”
Not waiting for more, I hurried upstairs and promised that nobody would
know how my heart broke that Christmas morning, especially Nick Wallace.
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