Forever Yours Page 4

  “How bad is it out there?” she asked after he climbed back into the driver’s seat.

  “I don’t think I can get us out of here. You don’t happen to have a tow truck company in your phone contacts do you?”

  She made a face. “No. But I can make some calls.”

  “Let me look at that first. I may be able to push us out, but I want to bandage this before I do anything.”

  Meg closed her eyes when she felt his hands on her face. Despite the coolness of his skin, heat rushed through her. She didn’t want to react to him, but she couldn’t help it. No matter what had happened, how much time had passed, her body remembered his touch and wanted more of it.

  His fingertips gently turned her chin, pushed her hand away, and then touched along her hairline. “Does that hurt?”

  Meg frowned at the reminder that his touches weren’t of a personal nature. “No.”

  “It’s still bleeding pretty good. Put pressure on it again.” Once she did, he said, “Open your eyes.”

  His voice was soft but so full of concern that Meg had to swallow hard to find the strength to do as he said. Why did he have to be so close? Why did she have to notice?

  His hand left her face and a moment later he was flashing a light in her eyes. While this was purely clinical—he was obviously checking her pupils—she felt as exposed as if she were standing naked before him. Damn. The memories that thought brought with it.

  She cleared her throat and pulled away. “I’m fine, John.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I didn’t hit that hard.”

  “You’d be surprised how little impact it takes to bruise a brain.”

  His hand was on her chin again, gently forcing her to face him. The light flicking back and forth was a good distraction. She couldn’t see him as clearly, but she could still smell him, feel his hand on her, and feel small bursts of warm moist breath. All of which reminded her again of more intimate moments between them.

  Finally, he turned the light off and dug in his kit for something else. A moment later he asked her to lower the scarf. She did and he touched her face again. Apparently satisfied that the bleeding had stopped, he applied a small butterfly bandage.

  “There.” He dropped his hands from her face. “That should hold until we can get you to the ER.”

  “The ER?”

  “Don’t argue with me on this,” he said firmly. “You’re not going to win.”

  She sighed when he set the first aid kit on the back seat and then put the gearshift into reverse. He gently pushed on the gas. The vehicle rocked slightly but didn’t move more than a few inches. He tried again. And again.

  “Okay, I’m going to have a better look and see if I can figure out how to get us out of here,” he said. “Are you okay to wait, or should I call 9-1-1?”

  She cocked her injured brow at him. She almost winced in pain, maybe did just a bit, but she refused to let him see how much that move had actually hurt. Instead, she climbed out and walked to the front of car to have a look.

  The front tire had gone over a huge branch that kept the treads several inches off the ground.

  “You were right,” Meg said when John came to stand beside her. “We’re going to need a tow truck.”

  Chapter Six

  “I really don’t think this is necessary,” Meg said. Again.

  John ignored her as he continued examining her in the ER unit, once again flashing a penlight into her eyes. Then he tilted her head and pressed along the edge of the wound, causing her to jerk back.

  “Leave it alone. The doctor will be here any minute. The on-duty doctor,” she corrected when he frowned at her.

  “Humor me, okay?”

  She was about to argue when the door opened and a woman walked in. The doctor was close to John’s age and just an inch or two shorter. When she saw him she smiled more widely, in a way that made it clear she was extremely happy to see him. Too happy, as far as Meg was concerned.

  “Doctor Howard,” she said softly, “I didn’t expect to see you here until next week.”

  “The ice got the better of me unfortunately,” he said. “My car slid off the road.”

  “Oh, no. Where at?”

  “Out on old Johnson Road.”

  “My goodness. What in the world were you doing way out there?”

  Meg rolled her eyes as the woman carried on with John like this were much more important than the gash in Meg’s head. Seriously?

  John glanced at Meg and grinned, and then he made a show of taking her hand. “We were looking at a place to buy out there. I think this was a good sign that we need to look in town. Don’t you agree, honey?”

  The doctor looked at Meg as if surprised to find John hadn’t simply come in to the ER for social hour. “Oh, that looks painful.”

  “Oh,” Meg returned with oozing sarcasm, “probably because it is.”

  John helped Meg off the table. “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “For not outing me as being a single doctor. I have a feeling that’s a dangerous condition around here.”

  “I didn’t do it for you. What kind of doctor flirts when she has a patient on the table?”

  “She was just being friendly.”

  “My ass.” She sighed. “Can we go now? I’d really like to get home.”

  “Uh-uh. You heard her. You need someone keeping an eye on you tonight. You’re coming home with me.”

  “No way. Suz will be up all night checking on me. That’s the last thing she needs this late in her pregnancy.”

  “Then I’m coming home with you.”

  Meg snorted. “I don’t think so.”

  “You’re not going home alone. If you have a concussion—”

  “Stop it. I’m fine.”

  “Meg—” He frowned as he dug his phone out of his pocket when it started ringing. “This isn’t finished,” he said before answering. “Hey, Steve. Meg’s fine, we’re just about to…oh. Oh, wow. Okay. We’ll see you up in maternity then.”

  Meg’s eyes widened, her mouth dropped, and she grabbed his arm. “We’re having a baby?”

  He nodded, and she squealed loudly enough that a couple of nurses walking by looked their way.

  “We’re having a baby!”

  Meg could tell him she was fine a hundred times over—hell, she probably had—but John still didn’t believe her. Logically, he knew she wasn’t seriously injured, but that didn’t make him worry less. Every time she shifted, sighed, or moaned, he sat straight up ready to carry her downstairs to the emergency room if necessary.

  She told him he was making her crazy, but he couldn’t stop. Seeing the bruise forming on her brow, the swelling flesh surrounding the two stitches holding her together, and knowing she was in pain—even though she refused to admit it—had him on edge. He wanted to hold her, comfort her, but she had made it clear she wanted him to back off.

  So he sat on one uncomfortable sofa while she sat on another. While he watched the twenty-four hour news station play the same footage over and over, she flipped through the seemingly endless supply of magazines. Minutes stretched into hours, and hours dragged them into the darkest part of the next day. Just when he was about to suggest they track down a nurse to give them an update, Steven came bursting into the waiting room.

  “She’s here. Lily is here.”

  John watched as Meg jumped up, bruised forehead forgotten, and launched herself into Steven’s arms. He hugged her and then hugged John while Meg grabbed a few tissues to dry her eyes. They followed him to the nursery and looked through the glass as the nurses examined a bright pink little bundle, while Steven returned to the room to check on Suzanna.

  “Oh.” Meg put her fingers to the glass and fresh tears filled her eyes. “She’s beautiful. She’s so beautiful.”

  John sighed too, and without realizing what he was doing, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She didn’t resist. She actually leaned into him, took his
hand, and squeezed it.

  “We have a baby,” she whispered.

  Unable to resist, he tightened his grasp on her hand as well and pulled her closer so he could kiss her head. “We have a baby.”

  By the time John opened the front door to Meg’s apartment, she could barely stand. Between the long day and night and the bump on her head, she was exhausted. She didn’t even have the energy to argue with him when he parked in front of her building and walked around to help her out of his Jeep.

  She also didn’t argue when he walked her into the building and up to the second floor, or when he took her keys from her hand and opened her door. She didn’t even put up a fight when he eased her out of her coat and discarded his own.

  “It’s chilly in here.” He held her hand as she sat down on the couch. He looked around for a moment before walking to the thermostat.

  Meg dropped her head back and her eyelids drooped as she watched him. She couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at her lips when he returned to her and, for the hundredth time that night, examined her stitches.

  She closed her eyes when he gently put his hand to her face. “Come on,” he said after a moment. “Let me put you to bed.”

  A voice screamed at her to make him leave, but she pushed it down, silenced it in the fog of her weariness. He lifted her to her feet. She pointed to her bedroom when he asked where to take her. A moment later, he pulled back the covers on her bed and she sat. He tugged her shoes off and set them aside.

  “I can’t believe how perfect Lily is,” Meg said lying back. “The most beautiful Christmas Eve baby ever.”

  John covered her and smiled as he ran his fingertip down her nose before tapping the tip—something he hadn’t done in four years yet was as familiar to her as breathing. “She’s almost as beautiful as her aunt.”

  Meg opened her eyes when she felt his palm cup her face. He looked at her for a long moment before he leaned down and gently kissed her head. She swallowed hard at the tenderness and sincerity in his eyes.

  “I’ll be on the sofa if you need anything.”

  She grabbed his hand when he turned to walk away, causing him to look down at her. Her heart swelled with a strange twisting of desire and dread. She couldn’t deny that her body still yearned for him or that her heart ached with the love she still couldn’t let go. Having him so close, acting so caring and sharing the beauty of Lily’s birth, took the hard edge off her angry, broken heart, but her mind wasn’t so quick to forget. It was warning her to beware. This man had destroyed her once. He could easily do it again.

  Her mind won out and she let her hand fall from his. “Thanks.”

  John hesitated and then left her to sleep.

  John frowned as he stretched out on the sofa. The furnace had kicked on, warming the room significantly, but he still felt cold inside.

  Four years had gone by, but he could still read Meg fairly well. He saw the desire flash in her eyes, quickly replaced by doubt. All the feelings they’d shared so long ago were just as alive for her as they were for him, only she was the one who was scared this time. Not that he blamed her. He hadn’t only robbed himself of their life together, he’d robbed her too. Seeing her holding a baby just hours after imagining a life with her and the children they could have had rubbed salt into his already bloodied heart and left him with even more conviction.

  He had to find a way to prove to her that he really had changed. He had to prove he wanted their life, their plans, their future. He may have been too scared to realize it back then, but he knew it now. He also knew he couldn’t have the life he wanted without her.

  He just hoped he could find a way to convince her.

  Chapter Seven

  Two days before the New Year found Meg frowning at her phone. She still had a headache and was growing concerned. However, when she called her physician, she was informed he was on vacation and she’d have to schedule with the on-call doctor, Doctor John Howard.

  She hated to do it, but she made the appointment. He barely gave her time to tell him about her symptoms before he made room in the radiology schedule for her to get an MRI. She sat in a cold exam room, picking at a perfectly good manicure, waiting for him to return with the results.

  When he finally appeared, she expected him to tell her exactly what was causing her headaches. Instead, he shook his head.

  “It’s clear,” he said.

  “Are you sure? Something is going on. I’m not imagining this.”

  “I know you’re not. You’ve got a mild concussion. It’s nothing a little time won’t heal. You just need to take it easy, get lots of rest, and no alcohol until your head stops hurting.”

  “So my plans for New Year’s Eve are out?”

  “What are your plans?”

  “Going to a party with some friends.”

  A strange mix of emotions played on his face before he shrugged. “I wouldn’t suggest it. The noise, the lights, the alcohol, are all likely to increase your symptoms. You should hang out with us instead. Junk food and watching the ball drop if Suzanna and Steven stay awake that long.”

  “Not likely.” Meg chuckled softly. “I guess that’s better than a pounding headache.”

  “Thanks. I think.” He smiled.

  “Can we get the stitches out now? They’re driving me nuts.”

  John gently brushed hair back and caressed her face in a completely non-professional manner, and a jolt of awareness rolled through her. He was so close she could feel his breath brushing over her like a feather. Her body absorbed his heat and she inhaled his scent.

  She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Time must have stood still because it seemed forever had passed and he was still so damned close to her. She slowly lifted her eyelids to look at him and her breath caught. The concern in his eyes had changed to desire. There was a deep intensity in his gaze, an intensity that had haunted her dreams long after he had left her.

  She parted her lips as she looked at his. His kiss was unforgettable, the way he would glide his tongue into her mouth and pull her against him like she was the only thing that could save his life. The passion they’d shared was one that she’d never known before or after him, and one that she longed to feel again.

  The spell she unwillingly found herself under was broken when he leaned back and cleared his throat.

  “Not yet.” He stepped away from her and picked up the chart on the desk. He made several notes and then turned and gave her a weak smile. “So, uh, see you New Year’s Eve?”

  “Yeah.” She refused to acknowledge the disappointment she felt at his dismissal. Why hadn’t he kissed her? Not that she wanted him to. “See you New Year’s Eve.”

  “Lily is asleep and I’ve pumped enough milk for a small village of starving infants.” Suzanna rushed into the living room to join the New Year’s Eve gathering. “Let me at that beer!”

  Meg snatched the bottle from John’s hand before he could take a drink and held it up for her sister.

  “Hey,” he protested.

  Meg arched a still bruised brow. “Go get your own.”

  He smirked as he pushed himself up. “Brat.”

  Meg grinned in return, but her smile fell when she noticed Suzanna looking at her. “What?”

  “You know what.”

  Meg scoffed and pushed herself up. “You’re wrong. Whatever you’re thinking. You are wrong.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  Ignoring her sister’s taunting voice, Meg pushed the kitchen door open where Steven had been concocting some alcoholic beverage that she couldn’t drink thanks to her concussion. “Okay, time to go get some grub,” she announced. “I vote pizza.”

  “Pizza is good,” Steven said. “But subs are better.”

  “We can do both.” John put down the beer he’d just opened. “I’ll drive.”

  “I’ll drive,” Meg countered. “The last time you drove, I got stitches. Besides, I’m the only one who hasn’t been drinking.”

  “I didn’t even get a dri
nk. You stole it from me.”

  “Boo-hoo.” She stuck her lip out in a dramatic pout. “Call in the order. Pepperoni—”

  “And jalapeños on deep dish,” John finished. “I know. Let Suzanna call it in. I’ll ride with you.”

  She followed him back into the living room with the hope that Suzanna would have the good sense to drop the previous topic, but she should have known better. As soon as John stepped out in the cold to start Meg’s car so it could warm up, Suzanna smirked.

  “Fine.” Meg admitted. “I don’t hate him anymore. Okay?”

  Suzanna’s smile widened. “Okay.”

  Chapter Eight

  Admitting that her anger had subsided seemed to ease the tension Meg felt around John. New Year’s Eve had gone as smoothly as possible, and though the temptation to kiss him goodnight had lingered in the back of her mind, she managed to stomp it out as she bid him a Happy New Year and headed home alone.

  As February rolled in, Meg and John sat staring at a stack of papers.

  “This is crazy,” he said.

  Meg chuckled. “Yeah. Quite the commitment you’re making here.” She grinned when he glared at her playfully and then snatched the pen she was holding out. “I’ve tagged all the places you need to sign and initial.”

  She watched him flip through the pages, legally taking ownership of the home that had crept into her dreams more than once over the last few weeks. Why her subconscious would continually put her in that home with John and their happily ever after was beyond her. Just because she decided to give up the anger and bitterness that had hounded her for years, didn’t mean she should completely forget what he had done. But she found that she was forgiving him, and if she thought about it—which she tried not to do—she could even admit that it felt good to not hate him. Every day she thought of her anger less and less and found herself enjoying being around him more and more.

  Damn it.

  “Okay.” He turned to the last page and took a deep breath. He glanced up at her and smiled. “This is it.”

  She watched him scribble his name, and then slid the keys across the table to him. “Congratulations. You are a homeowner.”