Scenes From the City: A Knitting in the City Wintertime Surprise (2 page)

I managed a half smile and watched him warily. I hoped the laughter meant that he was no longer dismayed, horrified, displeased, or irritated. He took a step toward me but tripped slightly on one of the bagged toads.

I reached forward, grabbed his forearms. “Watch out, there are giant, ugly, serial-killing toads on the floor.”

Quinn charged forward, through the tripping toad landmines, and reached for me. I squeaked involuntarily as his hands gripped my thighs, wrapped my legs around his torso, and marched us back to the bedroom, biting, and licking, and kissing my shoulder and neck.

“Wait! What about the vaginas?”

“I got married so I wouldn’t have to look at anyone’s vagina but yours for the rest of my life.”

He threw me on the bed, then gripped the two strings at my hips, pulling them and releasing my swimsuit bottoms.

“B-but…” I stuttered.

Quinn peeled back the scrap of fabric, pushed my knees apart and up to my shoulders as he knelt between my thighs. He brought his mouth to my center.

“Wait,” my words were breathless. “Don’t you want to help me pick a design?”

“No.” He licked me with a flat, soft tongue; then he said, “Surprise me. I love your surprises.”

I bucked, panting, watching the top of his head as he loved my undecorated and unadorned vagina with his mouth. “But—wait—we’ve done this position already.”

“Shhh, Kitten. I’m hungry for you…” Quinn gripped my hips and bottom with his large hands, staying any potential shift or modification to my position.

One more pass of his tongue was all that was required for my unconditional surrender. With a deep sigh, I closed my eyes, gave myself over to him, just as I’d done countless times before.

Paradise wasn’t an island in the Caribbean; it wasn’t a place. It was being with the person you love and working through the illustrated guide to the Kamasutra, even if you repeat positions from time to time.

I loved it.

I loved him.

And I planned to stay in this paradise forever.

Author’s Note
:
Dear Reader, This scene takes place
three days
immediately after the bachelorette party in
Neanderthal Marries Human
…
J

***

I must’ve read
the note over a hundred times. Sometimes I would laugh, sometimes I would ball it up and throw it across whatever room I was in, sometimes I would sit silently and…try to remember.

Dearest Wife,

Now we don’t have to worry about setting a date. You’re welcome.

Your Husband, Nico

I’d missed my own wedding.

Three days had passed; and every time I called my husband he’d answer, pretend there was static on the line, and hang up after telling me he loved me. That was my reality.

Freaking Nico!

But, damn it, I’d missed my own wedding! I’d missed Nico looking into my eyes and saying he loved me and vowing that we’d be together forever. I didn’t even know if I’d promised to
obey
him…. I hoped that I hadn’t because that was a promise I was incapable of keeping.

Regardless, any promises made while under the influence of Sandra’s Amsterdam Absinthe and Ashley’s moonshine—supplied by one of her brothers who, of course, was named Cletus—could hardly be considered binding.

Except that big one.

You know, that big promise where we were now married by Elvis and I was Mrs. Manganiello (despite the fact that I still couldn’t pronounce the name).

“When did that happen?”

I blinked twice, bringing Dr. Ken Miles into focus.

“What?”

“You’re married?” he asked, his eyes moving between the rings on my finger and my face.

I glanced down at the completely ridiculous diamond ring and band, flexed my fingers, and cleared my throat before answering. “Ah, yes. Three days ago.”

I was an hour past the end of my shift, but I was in no hurry to go home to the empty penthouse. I missed Nico, and being in our home without him made my heart hurt. This was exacerbated by the fact that he wouldn’t call me back. I’d resorted to recording his show nightly and watching it two or three times daily.

Ken was chewing gum; he chewed it several times more, then asked, “Sorta fast, right? Didn’t you just get engaged?”

I squinted at Dr. Ken. “No. It wasn’t sorta fast. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

“It’s the fame thing, right?” He said this as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the nurses’ station countertop, his gaze traveling up then down my body, a smirk on his face. “You’re rushing things 'cause he’s famous.”

After a moment I nodded. “That’s right. It’s all about the fame for me—and also the great sex. Because, let me tell you, he’s a slow eater…” I winked, “If you know what I mean.”

“Thanks for that,” he said, his tone flat.

I ignored him, feeling like it was my God-given right to get on his nerves since he’d asked such an asinine question. “Our marriage has nothing to do with the fact that he’s the best person I know and the most amazing man on the face of the earth. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I love him more than I love Star Trek and need him more than oxygen. Furthermore, marrying Nico had absolutely
nothing
to do with the fact that I can’t imagine living a single day without hearing his voice and his laugh and touching him and-”

“Alright! I get it.” Dr. Ken held up his hands, rolling his big pretty blue eyes, then stiffening when his gaze caught on something over my shoulder. Then he rolled his eyes again. “I’ll leave you two to it then. Exam room seven is open. Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

I lifted my eyebrows in confusion as Ken picked up the two charts he’d been holding and walked past me.

The sound of Ken’s departing footsteps was accompanied by his saying, “She’s all yours,” to some unknown person.

I twisted over my shoulder to see to whom he was speaking and subsequently felt like I’d been poked with a bewilderment stick.

Standing behind me, right behind me, was Nico.

He wore a tailored black suit with a lavender shirt and dark purple tie, and he wore it exceptionally well. The violet of the tie brought out the deep green of his eyes, and I would have jumped him, except for the smirk.

He was smirking—with his mouth, with his twinkly eyes, with his entire face, with his whole being—as his gaze affixed itself to my stunned expression.

“Hello, wife,” he said with smirky swagger. “Did you miss me?”

“You…” I said, turning completely around, but nothing else emerged. My heart leapt, and warm girly euphoria filled my stomach and chest and made my limbs feel loose and rubbery. However, the gargantuan delight at finally seeing him was warring with extreme annoyance at
finally
seeing him. Who marries someone while they’re basically incapacitated, leaves a pathetically short note, then feigns static on phone calls for three days? Three days!

Who does that? My husband, that’s who.

My husband…
I loved the way that sounded, even in my brain.

I tried again to speak; this time I managed to point at him and force some strength into my voice. “You!”

“Yes. Me.” Nico stepped forward, slipping his hands into his pants’ pockets and backing me up against nurses’ station, my pointed finger pressing into his chest as he crowded my space. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against mine, stealing the barest of kisses and with it my breath.

His eyes lovingly caressed my face as he leaned just his head away. “You are so beautiful,” he said, his voice like velvet, his eyes starry and mesmerizing. The effect momentarily knocked me senseless.

“I’m mad at you,” I said, knowing I didn’t sound at all mad. Because I’m the queen of sending mixed signals, I slid my hands into his suit jacket and around his torso. Everything heterosexually feminine in me loved the hard muscled planes of his stomach and sides and back.

God…I wanted him naked.

He grinned, gave me another light kiss, then retreated. “Are you? Why?”

“For lots of reasons,” I sighed. He was just too dreamy for starters.

“Is it because I’m the best person you know, or because I’m the most amazing man on the face of the earth?”

Annoyance mixed with amusement made my mouth curve into a reluctant smile. “You’re a dirty eavesdropper. How long were you standing there?”

He pressed his lips to mine once more—making my heart beat faster—then reached around his back, extracting my hand and holding it in his. He nodded to a nurse who walked past, gave her a winning smile, then turned his attention back to me.

His acknowledgement of the nurse was an essential reminder of my surroundings and provided good dose of sobriety. I shouldn’t have been kissing him at the nurses’ station. It was highly unprofessional.

And I was mad at him. I was. I was mad.

“Where is this exam room seven that Dr. Prettyprincess referred to?” Nico scanned the hallway.

I linked my fingers with his and tugged, leading the way to the exam room. I moved the red flag outward to indicate that the room was occupied, then pulled him in, shutting the door behind us.

We were newlyweds. What we did now, how I let him treat me, how we dealt with problems and issues would set the tone for the rest of our marriage. I couldn’t have him run away, disappear for days, every time he thought I might be upset.

At the same time, I needed to control my temper. I needed to show him he didn’t need to disappear for days every time he thought I might be upset. I needed to be calm. I braced myself to confront him.

I turned, squaring my shoulders, my hands tights fists on my hips, and lifted my chin. I was ready for battle.

But as soon as I lifted my gaze to his, Nico stepped forward, his hands immediately slipping under the shirt of my scrubs, up my sides to my breasts. I opened my mouth to speak; instead I squeaked. He took advantage of my disorientation by covering and claiming my mouth with his.

My body—the traitor!—flooded with need. Automatically, I arched into his capable hands, moaned against his lips, and gripped the front of his jacket. I then pushed it off his shoulders. He pressed me to the door, his hips against mine, moving one of his hands down into my underwear and squeezing my bottom.

He tore his mouth from mine, kissed and nipped a path to my ear.

“Nico, we have to…ah…”

“Bella, mi sei mancata,” Nico massaged me through my bra and pinched the center of my breast, “e questo.”

“This is not fair; you’re manipulating me. You’re using your intense sexual prowess to overwhelm me.” I groaned, untucked his shirt; I needed to feel his skin. I burned for him.

He lifted his head and grinned, apparently supremely pleased with what he found, then lowered his mouth back to my ear. “Are you ready to go home?” Nico said in a rumbly whisper, sending lovely shivery spikes of sensation down my spine, tickling me.

“I’m upset with you,” I sighed, reflexively tilting my head to the side, giving him better access, my body clamoring for his touch. “We need to talk, and you want to skip straight to dessert.”

“Fine. Talk.” He bit my neck then soothed the spot with his tongue. “I love your voice.”

Despite how lovely he was making me feel, I gritted my teeth and pushed him away. I braced myself for his handsomeness and charisma assault, then lifted my chin to meet his gaze. Immediately I was glad I’d made mental preparations. I didn’t know how I was going to maintain my self-respect in this marriage when every time I looked at him I wanted to kiss his face off.

And I wavered, because I also wanted dessert first. “We-” I started but was interrupted by the intercom announcing a Code Triage.

I stiffened, my eyes growing wide, disappointment and a spike of sobering adrenaline turning my stomach cold.

“Damn it.” I rubbed my forehead.

“What’s a
code triage
?”

“It’s the code for a catastrophic emergency, probably a shooting or a massive pile up…ten or more incoming, most fatal…” I shook my head, frustration choking my words. “I have to…I have stay. I have to help.”

He grew subdued, and he nodded once. “I understand.”

I reached for him before he could pick up his jacket. “When I call you, I need you to talk to me. I need…I need you.”

He nodded again, his eyes growing soft. “I will.”

“How long are you here for? In town?”

“I’m-” He started, but the intercom interrupted him again, announcing the first of the ambulance arrivals.

I tightened my hold on his shirt and took a deep breath. These events, treating multiple victims at once, deciding who would receive treatment first, prioritizing lives, making split-second decisions while short on sleep and high on adrenaline, I hated it. Someone was going to die, and I always went home feeling like a failure.

“Are you okay?” Nico took my face between his palms, tilting my chin up and kissing my lips quickly.

I nodded. “I just hate this.”

“What? What do you hate?”

“I hate that no matter what I do, I can’t save everyone.”

His mouth tugged to the side, and his eyes gave my face a cherishing sweep. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” I turned my
lips
into his hand, kissed his palm. “I mean it, I do.”

His arms dropped to his sides, and he took a step back. “Go.” Nico indicated to the door with a lift of his chin.

I hesitated. “Will you be there when I get home?”

“Yes.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. I promise.”

I exhaled my relief and threw my arms around him. After a fast, tight hug and a quick kiss, I turned and bolted through the door just as the intercom announced the second of the ambulances. I needed to clear my mind for the grim hours that lay ahead.

***

Four hours later
, I’d lost two and saved five.

When the ambulances stopped arriving, and because I’d been there the longest, I was told to go home. I didn’t. I had two families to talk to, two sets of parents to console. I stayed another three hours. I brought tissues, and I gave hugs liberally.

But I was fine.

I went to the locker room and showered; I changed into my street clothes; I grabbed my bag and checked my email on my phone. There was a note from Fiona about the shawl we were all knitting for Janie as a wedding present.

I was still fine.

I jogged to the
train
station; I jumped on the El; I walked the two blocks to our apartment and nodded to Frank, the concierge, as I crossed to the elevators.

I was just fine.

I exited the double doors when they slid open and dug for my keys. But I found that my hands were shaking and I couldn’t quite focus on the contents of my bag because I was crying and everything was blurry.

I was not fine.