Ginger's Heart (a modern fairytale) (40 page)

“Poor baby,” she said, dropping her voice and keeping it kitten soft and smooth. She reached for his face and caressed his jaw.

“Gin,” he groaned. “Don’t tease me. My heart can’t take it, and my cock’s about to break off.”

He looked so pitiful and adorable, she leaned up and licked his lips, meeting his tongue with hers as they opened. His arms came around her again, holding her fiercely as he dropped whatever was in his hand, and the soft ping of metal hitting the floor competed with their sighs and moans. When she was dizzy and breathless, she broke away, leaning her head on his shoulder, marveling at the way her body responded to his as she’d never been able to respond to his cousin’s. She was primed and ready for him. Waiting was painful, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted her first time with Cain to be special.

“Come home with me later,” he said, sliding his lips down her neck, pursing them over her skin, his tongue darting out to lick tiny circles that made her shiver. “Stay over tonight.”

“I wish I could,” she half whispered, half moaned. “But I have an early shift tomorrow, and Gran’s not doin’ well. She’s havin’ some tests. I want to be there for her.”

“I’ll come up tomorrow and stay with you.”

“I have to concentrate on her for a day or two, Cain, and you are way too distractin’,” she said, smiling into his eyes with all the old and new love filling her heart. “But I’ll be back here on Friday. I promise. And . . .”

“And?” He stopped, pausing his tender ministrations, his lips hovering over her skin and his hot breath making her shiver.

“I don’t have to work this Sunday.” She swallowed. “I’m free this weekend.”

“Okay,” he said, leaning away from her, his wide eyes black and blue. “But pack a bag and stay with me till Monday morning.
All weekend
, Gin. I want you all weekend long.”

She saw it in his eyes, what he meant, what it would mean for her to stay with him all weekend. Their bodies fused together as every last barrier between them finally came down forever. That’s how they’d be, and that’s what she wanted too . . . all weekend long.

She shivered in anticipation, then nodded. As she turned to leave, she remembered why she’d come looking for him in the first place.

“By the way, there’s a horde of women in the office. They all want to see you.”

“Legit business?”

Nope.
Ginger shrugged.

“Okay,” he said. He looked down at his crotch, which looked bulging and strained. “Give me a couple of minutes to think about baseball, huh?”

“Friday,” she whispered, grinning at him before walking back to the office with an ache of her own.

“Mr. Wolfram will be here in a minute, ladies. May I get you coffee?”

When they all declined, she sat down at her desk and looked them over. They were all pretty in their own ways, though the Queen Bee was the prettiest, and Ginger had a sudden pang of worry that Cain would see her and run off, leaving her in the dust. She looked about ten times more experienced than Ginger too, confident in her own skin, and Ginger bet that she’d had about a million orgasms from enthusiastic lovers, and knew exactly what to do in bed to pleasure a man.

Cain? He loved pleasure.

And Ginger? She’d never known anything but mediocre sex with a friend.

What if she wasn’t enough for him? She certainly wasn’t anywhere near as experienced as he was. He’d been bedding women since his early teens, and Ginger had only ever been with Woodman. What if she wasn’t good in bed? What if she and Cain had sex and it was just as bland and boring as it had been with Woodman?

She got up and made herself a cup of coffee, covertly looking at the Queen Bee, who flipped through a magazine, looking up at the office door every few minutes and sighing her annoyance. Ginger’s breasts weren’t as large, her waist wasn’t as small, and she wasn’t anywhere near as tall.

“Humph,” Ginger muttered, pouring a little milk in her coffee and sitting back down at the desk.

Wait until they see him up close and start batting their eyes at him.
She was making him wait until Friday, when she was positive that any woman in this room would have let him take her against the spare tires in the supply room with a great big grin on her face. Shoot. Damn it. Why was she making him wait? Why was she risking what was growing between them?

And then suddenly there he was, standing in the doorway of the office. She felt him, but she also heard the dreamy sighs from at least two of the four women waiting.

“Afternoon, ladies,” said Cain, standing in front of the four women waiting in guest chairs. “My
girlfriend
, Ginger, here, told me y’all were lookin’ for a motorcycle mechanic. That right?”

Ginger’s lips trembled as she watched two of the women—Conspiratorially and Insecurely—quickly deflate at the news of Cain’s “girlfriend.” One of them made an excuse about needing a car mechanic, and the other said she thought he serviced bicycles too. When he politely referred one to a garage down the street and the other to the local bike shop, he was left with two.

Flirtatiously stuck out her boobs, sucked a finger into her mouth, and asked if Cain would check her gears.

“Sure,” he said, nodding. “For gear problems, I charge four hundred dollars an hour. If you’ll go ahead and give Ginger your credit card, I can schedule you for a—”

“
Four hundred dollars
?” she cried, her finger falling forgotten to her side. “Forget it!”

She stomped out of the office, leaving Cain, Ginger, and Queen Bee alone. Ginger braced herself. Queen Bee was five-foot-nine, tan even though it was winter, with straight reddish-blonde hair and bright green eyes. She was stunning and she knew it.

“Mr. Wolfram,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’m Saffron Barnett. But my friends call me Saffy.”

“Miss Barnett, I’m Cain,” he said warmly, taking her hand and shaking it.

Ginger tightened her jaw, her fingers curling into fists, her eyes fixed on Cain’s hand in Queen Bee Saffy’s grasp.

“Seein’ as how you’re new in town and I’m the assistant to the head of the Versailles Chamber of Commerce, I thought that maybe we could grab some dinner on Friday and . . .” She chuckled, her low, sexy voice a suggestive rumble. “. . . you know, see what happens.”

Cain smiled at her, pumping her hand one more time before dropping it.

“Miss Barnett? You see that gal sittin’ over there? You couldn’t have missed her. She’s the prettiest, sweetest girl in the whole world, and I’ve been in love with her for as long as I can remember. You see her, right?”

Miss Barnett gave Ginger a frosty glance, then cleared her throat. “I noticed her, yes.”

“Well, I don’t go out to dinner unless she’s doin’ the arrangin’ and ends up sittin’ beside me while we dine. So I’m goin’ to get back to work now. And if you’d like to schedule that dinner with Ginger, I’m sure she’d be glad to accommodate you on
our
schedule.” He looked at Ginger. “Right, baby?”

With that, Cain gave Ginger a sexy smile, winked at her, then turned and left the office.

“Did you want to schedule—” started Ginger, squelching a grin and opening Cain’s calendar.

Miss Barnett picked up her purse and gave Ginger a snotty smirk. “It’ll keep for another day. Take care, now.”

As she flounced away, Ginger’s heart swelled with so much love, it spilled into every crack and crevice of her body, until she was warm all over, and she knew—beyond any shadow of doubt—it didn’t matter how inexperienced she was. She wouldn’t disappoint Cain, because he loved her. And because some things—no matter how long they take to finally happen—are simply meant to be.

“Ranger, Miz Ginger, good to see y’all. Why don’t you come on into my office and we’ll have a chat about Kelleyanne.”

Ginger followed her father into Dr. Sheridan’s office and took a seat across from him at one of three guest chairs.

The doctor opened the file on his desk and sighed, looking up at the McHuids with sympathy in his eyes.

“Kelleyanne has entered what we call the end stage of Parkinsons. Ranger, I know you’ve noticed that she’s become more disoriented lately.”

Ginger’s father cleared his throat. “Just lately, in the past couple of weeks. She asks about my sister, Amy, who passed away as a child. Asks to see her.”

Dr. Sheridan nodded. “That’s common. Even expected. I fear it’s goin’ to go quickly now.” He turned to Ginger. “She’s been incontinent for a while now, and we’ve had some issues with chokin’. I need to recommend . . .”—Ginger’s heart dropped—“. . . a feedin’ tube. It’s just safer.”

Safer, but it meant that Gran wouldn’t be able to talk very much anymore. It would tickle her throat and bother her to talk, which essentially meant that their wonderful, long talks would be over.

“When?” she asked.

“I’ve scheduled it for tomorrow. Kelleyanne knows. Can’t say she was pleased, but she’s been fadin’ in and out lately, as you’ve noted, Ranger. I won’t beat about the bush. She’s gettin’ weaker, folks. It’s gettin’ harder for her to breathe, harder for her to swallow. You need to prepare yourselves.” Dr. Sheridan’s voice was kind and level, but Ginger felt the words like a vise around her heart. Her two most beloved friends—one gone, one almost gone—and she’d be so terribly lost without both of them.

“How long does she have?” asked Ranger, blinking furiously.

“A few weeks, I think,” said Dr. Sheridan. “Maybe a month. Not much more’n that. And she’ll be more and more out of it, I’m afraid. But we can keep her comfortable. Make her final days as easy as possible.”

Ginger’s father swiped at his eyes, then slapped his hands on his knees. “Thanks, doc. I know you did all you could for her.”

“Take some time with her tonight, Ranger. You too, Ginger. Talkin’ will be harder after tomorrow.”

Ginger gulped, nodding at the doctor before turning to her father.

“Why don’t you go first, Ginger?” said Ranger. “Doc, if it’s okay with you, I’ll stay with her tonight. Until the procedure tomorrow.”

“Course,” said the doctor. “If Ginger wants to spend a bit of time with her grandmother now, you could go get somethin’ to eat and come back in a few hours. I’ll let the nurses know you’ll be stayin’ over. They can bring in a cot for you.”

“I’d appreciate that.”

“Daddy, I can stay too,” said Ginger, but her father shook his head and reached over to squeeze her hand.

“No, baby. She’s my momma. It’ll just be me and her.”

Ginger nodded. “I understand.”

Ginger left her father and Dr. Sheridan to discuss the details of tomorrow’s procedure and headed to the elevator. She’d go on up to Gran’s room and stay with her for a while, hopefully have one last conversation.

When she entered the room, Gran was sitting up in bed, her face slack, staring straight ahead.

“Gran?”

“Amy,” she said, her voice soft and breathy.

“No, Gran. It’s me. It’s Ginger.”

“Oh, Ginger.” She looked up at her granddaughter, her eyes taking a moment to spark recognition. “
Ginger
. How . . . are you, d-doll b-baby?”

Ginger pulled a chair over to Gran’s bedside and sat down beside her. She reached for grandmother’s bony hand and held it gently.

“I’m fine. How’re
you
feelin’?”

“Tired,” she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment.

Ginger gulped softly, blinking her eyes to hold back the tears.

“You look . . . m-miserable,” said Gran.

“I’m goin’ to miss you so much,” said Ginger, laying her head on the bed beside her grandmother’s frail body.

“We been . . . g-good friends . . . you and me.”

“The best.”

“B-but,” she said, each word coming slowly and softly and taking strength Gran probably didn’t have to spare. “You’re . . . g-gonna b-be . . . okay.” She paused for a moment, then Ginger heard her gasp softly. “C-Cain . . . y-you’re here.”

Ginger lifted her head and turned around in shock to find Cain, dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, standing in the doorway of her grandmother’s room with a bouquet of flowers by his side. His face was concerned, almost grave, but he managed a smile for Gran as he approached the bed, and Ginger had to physically restrain herself from launching her body into his arms and sagging against the strength he could offer.

“Came to see you, Miz Kelleyanne.”

“You are . . . t-too handsome.” She looked at his hands. “F-flowers.”

He nodded, laying them on a rolling table at the foot of her bed.

“What are you
doin’
here?” asked Ginger, wiping away the tears that spilled down her cheeks. She looked up at his face, her gratitude so overwhelming, it almost made her light-headed.

“You said your Gran was havin’ tests. Thought maybe . . .” He shrugged, squatting down beside the chair where she was sitting and resting his hands on her knees. “Thought maybe you could use a friend.”

“A friend?”

His eyes flared with heat for a moment before he nodded. “A friend. Tonight you don’t need a distraction. You just need a friend who loves you.”

The word
friend
had worried her for a moment, but chased by a reminder of his love for her, it meant that he was restraining his desire for her tonight, and was here just as support. And it meant more to her than he could ever know.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper, her tears breaking the words.

He leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her lips before drawing back.

“You look . . . g-good together,” said Gran, watching them from her hospital bed. “Like you . . . f-finally f-found . . . your way.”

“I think we have, Gran,” said Ginger, no longer trying to stop the tears that were rolling down her cheeks.

Cain took her hand, threading their fingers together, and Ginger fairly sighed at the unconditional love and gentle support he was offering her tonight. She didn’t know how desperately she’d needed him until he arrived, and now that he was here, she felt that she could handle anything.

“W-why you c-cryin’ . . . Ginger? Is . . . someone . . . d-dyin’?” Kelleyanne couldn’t smile anymore, but Ginger could almost hear the familiar lilt of a smile in her tired, breathless voice. “Whoever it is . . . I hope . . . they had . . . as g-good a . . . l-life as m-me.”

After such a long speech, she sighed, long and hard, and it almost broke Ginger to see her strong, resilient grandmother fading so fast.

“Now, y’all . . . send in . . . R-Ranger and Amy . . . t-to see their . . . m-momma.” Her eyes fluttered closed as she sighed with a long, labored breath. “C-Cain . . . t-take care . . . of m-my . . . l-lionhearted . . . l’il g-gal.”

Her voice wilted and weakened on the last words until
gal
was almost the breath of a whisper.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Cain. “I will. I promise.”

Ginger still clasped his hand as she stood up, leaning down to kiss her grandmother’s sleeping face before letting him lead her from the room. As soon as they were in the hallway, Cain’s strong arms wound around her, pulling her against his chest. Her forehead landed just below his shoulder as silent sobs racked her body.

He held her tightly and rubbed her back. He said, “Go on and cry, darlin’” and “It’s okay, baby” and “Cain’s got you, Gin,” until her tears were spent and she took a deep, sobbing breath, looking up into his face.

“You will never know—I will never be able to express—what it means to me that you came here tonight. Cain,” she said, shaking her head as she reached up to cradle his face, “I love you. I never stopped. I never will.”

He gasped lightly, furrowing his brows together as he had yesterday, when he told her he loved her. And then he exhaled, letting the words “You love me” catch a ride on the long release of breath.

She nodded. “I do. I always have.”

He pulled her closer, his lips near her ear, his voice strangled with emotion. “Thank God. You love me.”

“I don’t know how to live without lovin’ you, Cain Wolfram. Promise me . . . promise me you’ll never break my heart again.”

“I promise,” he said. “Your heart’s been broken enough for two lifetimes, princess. From now on, we keep it whole.
I’ll
keep it whole, ’cause it’s mine now.”

She rested her weary head against his chest, amazed that such a beautiful, long-awaited moment between them would happen in the corridor of a hospital, with her gran’s days dwindling down so quickly nearby.

But then, she thought, this is a moment that matters,
really
matters: a moment when life has served up a platter of cold awful, and the man who loves you takes a seat beside you at the table to eat his share of your sorrow.

This is the moment you know that you can trust him, that you can trust his love, and that your heart will be safe within his keeping, Ginger. This—right here, right now—is the first moment of your forever with Cain Wolfram.

“Gin,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her hair, “if you can’t make Friday . . . if you need to be here . . .”

“No, Cain,” she whispered. “Friday’s ours.”

“I’d understand, princess,” he said, his voice strained but level.

“I know you would,” she said, leaning away from his chest to smile at him through her tears. “But she still has a little time left. And I
want
to be with you.” She leaned up on tiptoe and pulled his face down to hers. “I
need
to be with you.”

***

Cain was
buzzing
on Friday.

He’d woken up at the crack of dawn and gone for a five-mile run before heading home for an hour of free weights. The Navy had been an opportunity to get his ass in tip-top shape, and he wasn’t about to let himself go now that he’d embarked on civilian life. But the whole time he was running and lifting, one thought buzzed in his head:
She’s all mine as of seven o’clock tonight. All mine.

Ginger arrived on time at noon, her cheeks flushing pink when they made eye contact in the garage bay as she walked into the showroom, and it was so fucking cute, he had to keep himself from reaching for her in front of the customers who’d arrived early.
You’re thinking the same thing I am, princess, and I hope you want it just as bad.

The couple of times he saw her throughout the day, however, he noticed that her eyes didn’t connect with his, and her lower-lip biting was at an all-time high. She was nervous and getting progressively more so as the clock ticked toward seven. At this rate, she was going to be a wreck, and he didn’t want that, so when he realized no one was in the office waiting, he slipped in and locked the door, standing against it as he stared at her from across the room.

She looked up and gulped, her eyes wide. “H-hi.”

“Hi,” he said, cutting to the chase. “Why are you so nervous?”

“I’m not,” she said quickly, looking down at the desk, two bright red splotches of color appearing in her cheeks.

He couldn’t help smiling at her. “Princess? This is one of those times you’re goin’ to hate me for knowin’ you since you were in diapers. There are few people’s faces I read as well as yours. You’re nervous. And bad. Why?”

“Are you kiddin’ me, Cain?” she asked, her voice filling with sass.

He put his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Nope.”

“We’re havin’
sex
tonight!”

“Fuck,” he said, totally straight-faced. “We
are
?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Well, yeah . . . I mean . . . I thought . . .
aren’t we
?”

“Huh. Well, I mean, we
can
,” he said, “if you really want to.”

She nailed him with a look, cocking her head to the side, her lips finally tilting up. “You’re teasin’ me.”

He laughed. “Maybe.”

“We’re havin’ sex tonight,” she grumbled.

“Lord, I hope so. I been waitin’ to feel you under me for years, darlin’.”

She sucked in a hiss of breath, pressing her palms to her cheeks. “How can you say things like that out loud?”

He took a step toward her. “Like what? Like ‘I want to see what your face looks like when I slide into you’?”

Her eyes darkened and her breath became audible.

He took another step forward. “Like ‘I want to hear what sounds you make when you come’?”

Her breasts rose and fell rapidly as she stared up at him.

He took another step forward, placing his fisted hands on the desk and leaning toward her. “Like ‘I want to know how it feels to fall asleep with your naked body pressed up against mine’?”