Always With You: Part One (7 page)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Cash

“W
hat the
hell are you doing?” is what I want to ask.  Or more like growl.  The way it sounds in my head is nothing so nice as a polite “asking.”

Sophie’s familiarity, like we’re still two high school kids who are banging in the back seat of my car every chance we get, annoys the shit out of me.  She’s up to something. I can feel it.  I just don’t have a damn clue what it is.  And as much as I want to bark questions at her and demand that she take off my shirt, I don’t.  I’m too aware of the big brown eyes peeking up at me from Isabella’s perch on the bed.  When I glance at her, she looks quickly away, pretending to be absorbed in her cartoons again.

I turn back to Sophie. 

“What are you doing here?  How’s Olivia’s father?” she asks, raising her hands above her head to fluff her wet hair.  She shakes and twists an inordinate amount, enough to make her hard nipples strain against the material of my shirt. I’m sure she’s doing it on purpose.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” I ask mildly, reaching for her upper arm and wheeling her around toward the bathroom before she can even answer me.  I keep my calm until the door is shut, trapping us in the steamy room together.  Keeping my voice low, I curl my fingers around Sophie’s other arm and jerk her up against my chest.  “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I don’t want the little girl to hear me, but I want Sophie to know just how much she’s pissed me off. If she can’t hear it in my voice, she can damn sure see it in my furious face, glaring at hers from less than a foot away.

“I…I needed a shower. I thought…I thought we were going to be staying here.  And you’d be at the hospital all day.  If I’d known you were coming back, I’d have waited. I’m sorry, I just…”

She actually looks bewildered, which cools my temper a little. Maybe I’m overreacting.  She really
wouldn’t have
known I was coming so soon.  Maybe the shower thing was purely coincidental.  But wearing my shirt…that’s got to stop.

I release her arms and step back. “No, you can make yourself at home.  For a while at least.  But what’s up with you wearing my clothes?”

She looks down at herself and then back up at me. “Oh, God!  I know how this must look. I’m so sorry, Cash!  I hadn’t brought the rest of our luggage in yet and I didn’t want to wake Izzy, so I just grabbed something from the closet and hopped in the shower.  I assumed since it wasn’t packed that it would be okay.”

“Olivia was a little distracted when she left, as I’m sure you can imagine,” I snap defensively.

“I’m sure.  I mean…her father…Oh God!  I guess I…I just assumed that maybe the remaining clothes were things you planned on donating to Goodwill or something. I’m really sorry. I’ll wash it as soon as I get dressed and put it back where I found it.  I just…I…” she stammers nervously.  She tucks her chin and backs away from me, raising a hand to rub her fingers across her forehead.  “Jesus, what a mess I’m making of things!”

Her voice is low and quiet. Laced with distress.  I feel guilty for giving her such a hard time, for assuming the worst when the only reason I have to
believe
the worst is the old Sophie that I used to know.  Maybe she
has
changed.  I’ll never know if I don’t stop accusing her of things before I even know she’s guilty of them.

“Look, it’s fine. Just a misunderstanding.  In the future, though, don’t wear anything that could be mine or Olivia’s.  That’s just not…don’t do that.”

“You don’t have to explain,” she rushes in to say.  “I totally get it.  It would look awful if anyone else saw it. They might assume…”  She sighs and shakes her head woefully.  “I’m sorry, Cash. I never meant to…I just never meant to make trouble.  If I’d known you were married, I wouldn’t have come.”

That irritates the shit out of me.  “No?  So you’d just have kept the existence of my daughter from me
forever? 
Is that it?”

She raises her eyes to mine. They’re wide, like a cornered animal.  “No, I wouldn’t do that. I mean…I’d have at least done things differently.”

“Like how?  Like telling me when Isabella was a baby rather than waiting until she was half grown?”  I can’t keep the bitter anger out of my voice.

“I should’ve told you.  I realize that now.  But please, Cash, just give me a second chance.  I made mistakes. Lots of them. But I’m trying…
trying my damnedest
to do them better now. To do them right.  Starting with making our daughter a part of your life.  I’m sorry if my presence dredges up painful memories.  I guess I was hoping we could put the past behind us.”

Her eyes plead with me.  They seem sincere. 

Seem.

But I can’t let my guard down.  This
is
Sophie after all.  Maybe she’s changed.  But then again, maybe she hasn’t.  Time will tell, but until it does, I’ll be keeping my eye on her.

“Fine.  Then let’s leave the past in the past and focus on the little girl in the next room.”

Her smile is tentative.  “That’s all I want.”

I narrow my eyes on her, wishing I could see inside her head. Wishing I knew if she was telling the truth.  “Is it?”

“Of course.  What else would bring me here?”

That
is the million dollar question.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Olivia

D
espite the
turmoil that permeates nearly every corner of my life right now, I’m overwhelmed by the strangest peace, one that assures me everything is going to be all right. It makes no sense really. I mean, my father is in surgery—crazy serious surgery—fighting for his life and my husband might have a daughter attached to a sneaky bitch from his past.  I have no reason to think
anything
is going to be fine.

Yet I do.

When my phone rings, I don’t even glance at the caller ID before I answer.  “Hello?”

“How ya holdin’ up, doll?” comes Ginger’s voice.

“I’m okay.  Pretty sure I’m going crazy, but otherwise I’m okay.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I’m optimistic.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re crazy. It just means you’re naïve.”

Even though she can’t see it, I shrug.  “Maybe they’re the same thing.  What do I know?”

“Sounds like you could use some company. Want me to come sit with you?”

“Only if you’re going to give me gory details about you and Gavin. I’m tired of thinking about and talking about
my
problems.”

“You’re using the spillage of details as a means of blackmail?  With
me? 
It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

At that, I smile.  “Or do I?”

“Sneaky, sneaky,” she clucks.  “I like the cut of your jib, young lady.  Give me a few minutes and I’ll be there, ready to share things you’ll probably never be able to forget.  Consider yourself warned.”

“You and your insane sexual escapades don’t scare me.”

“So you say
now,”
she replies, adding a maniacal laugh before she hangs up. 

I’m still shaking my head when she rounds the corner into the waiting room.  She grins. I grin.

“What if I’d said I didn’t want company?” I ask, sliding over on the small vinyl couch to make room for my friend.

She rolls her eyes and tucks her blonde hair behind one ear as she takes a seat beside me.  “Like
that
would ever happen.”

“Right?  Because no one
ever
doesn’t want
your
company.”

“Exactly,” she says, leaning back, satisfied.  “So, why are you going crazy?”

My sigh is deep and long.  “My perfect life is turning into a worse pile-up than that one on I-85 last week.  Little by little, one by one, my cars are crashing.”

Ginger’s face melts into an expression of tolerant sympathy, like she might be dealing with a deluded child.  “Your life isn’t a wreck.  These are just road bumps that are happening all at once.  In a year, you’ll look back on this and wonder why you ever doubted that things would work out.”

“But that’s the thing.  I’m not really doubting that they will.  That’s the most absurd part of all this.  I should be a tangle of nerves and anxiety, yet I’m…surprisingly calm.”

“For the moment,” she adds knowingly.  “I know how your meltdowns come on. They’re like well-orchestrated sneak attacks from a team of deadly covert operatives.”

“So you’re saying that I really
am
crazy.”

“I said no such thing.”

“Calm one minute.  Under attack the next. That sure sounds crazy.”

“No, that’s life, Liv.  Nothing is perfect
all the time. 
If you get perfect
some of the time,
you should thank your lucky stars.  And you get perfect
a lot! 
A man like yours…all hot and tattooed and delicious…who worships you and tries to put a baby in you every time you’re alone together…that sounds pretty damn perfect to me.”

“Well, the baby part isn’t working out so perfectly, is it?”

Ginger shrugs. “Maybe it is.  That whore did all the work.  You got off scot-free.  Let her have the wrecked vagina and you can just be the sweet, beautiful woman who has all the good stuff.  Like the man.  And the kid she can send home after the weekend.”

“But I
want
the wrecked vagina, Ginger,” I moan woefully.

She gasps theatrically.  “Bite your tongue!  We only get one of these.  Take good care of it or you’ll end up with a latex allergy and twenty thousand in
Duracell
stock.”

I laugh, happily abandoning my distress for her lighter take on life.  “Looks like you’re faring pretty well.  Did you trade in your stock for something…warmer?”

Her blue eyes twinkle merrily.  “A lady never tells.”

“Good thing you’re not a lady.  Now spill it, woman.”

And she does. Ginger gives me all the romantic, erotic details of her encounter with Gavin.  Turns out he’s an even hotter Aussie than I thought he’d be.  And I had a pretty good idea that he’d be a scorcher.

For the first time since I got the call about Dad, the minutes seem to fly by.  When the phone in the otherwise empty little waiting room rings, I jump, throwing a hand up to still my runaway heart.

“See what an amazing distraction that man can be?” Ginger asks, referring to Gavin.

“I see what an amazing distraction
you
can be,” I tell her with a smile as I get up and make my way to the phone.  I answer according to the location, citing the CV surgery waiting room.

“Ms. Davenport?”

My heart warms. I’ll never get tired of being reminded that I belong to Cash.  And that he belongs to me.

“Yes?”

“This is Amanda Stein. I’m the circulating nurse for your father’s case.  I wanted to give you an update.”

My heart stutters.  “Great. How is he?”

“He did very well.  He’s off the bypass machine.  His heart started functioning on its own right away.  The doctor is sewing him up and we’ll get him out to a room. I’ll call you with a CVICU number when we’re ready to transfer him.”

A relief so profound it nearly buckles my knees washes through me.  I feel the choke of tears clogging my throat despite my earlier sixth sense that everything was going to turn out all right.

“Thank you.  Thank you so much.”

“My pleasure.  I’ll be back in touch shortly.”

I thank her again and hang up, resisting the urge to go find her and hug her until she can’t breathe.  I hold onto the edge of the desk for a few seconds, taking deep, grateful breaths until my legs become solid again.

“Everything okay?” Ginger asks from behind me.

“Yes. Very much so.  He’s done.  He made it.  They’re sewing him up now.”

“I knew it!” she exclaims smugly.  Ginger isn’t really the worrying type.

Carefully, I make my way back to the couch and flop down beside her.  She slaps her palm down onto my thigh and wiggles my leg back and forth.

“You know what you need to take the edge off?”

Evidently, my wound-tight state hasn’t failed to garner her notice.

“What?” I ask, aware of my silly smile and not caring in the least.

“A spontaneous romp.”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “Is that all you think about?”

Before she answers me, she closes one eye and looks up toward the ceiling for a few seconds.  She pretends to be deep in thought.  “Yeah.  Pretty much.”

“I’m glad you didn’t bother trying to deny it.”

“Eh, why waste a good lie?”  She turns to face me fully.  “But seriously, you can’t tell me that all this talk of sexy sex hasn’t helped take your mind off your troubles. Imagine what the real deal could do!”

She’s nodding enthusiastically.

“Sex doesn’t fix everything, Ginger.”

“The hell you say!  I’d bet you fifty bucks that Mr. Cash Davenport could loosen you up in a hot minute.  I know what you two are like.   Rabbits! A couple of damn rabbits!  Is there a place you two
haven’t
done it?”

Cash and I
do
have an amazing sex life.  We always have.  He makes me feel things no man has ever made me feel.  Part of it is my love for him, but part of it is just because he’s so dang good at what he does!  It’s like he knows my body better than I do and he plays every nerve to the bone, bringing me to peaks I never knew existed.

“See?  I know that look. Liv, all you need is a good roll in the hay and you’ll be right as rain.  Find that handsome hubby and make a baby, dammit!”

Although her approach is crass, as usual, I can’t help thinking she might be right. I’m so incredibly relieved that my father is okay, it suddenly seems that anything is possible. Even getting pregnant.  And I need to be close to Cash right now.  As close as I can possibly get.

I’m aware that Ginger’s still talking, but her words fall into a fog in the back of my mind as my husband creeps to the forefront. I see his glistening black eyes, I hear his gravel-and-satin voice, and I’m carried away to a private place that only the two of us visit.  Within seconds, I’m consumed.  Thoughts of his body gliding into mine, thick and smooth, seem particularly poignant and it isn’t long before my cheeks feel as flushed as they might be if he were near.

“You know what, Ginger?” I say, forcing myself back to reality.

“What’s that, doll?”

“I think you might be right.”

Her smile is positively brilliant, like she’s brought me over to the dark side and is especially proud of herself.  “Atta girl!”

I pick up my phone to send Cash a text.