Sex Machine: A Standalone Contemporary Romance (16 page)

I hear him. I smell his distinctive scent. I can feel his hand in mine and the touch of his fingers in my hair. I take comfort from the sound of his voice, even if I can’t quite understand the things he’s saying. I feel his love in every word and in every stroke of his skin against mine.

Where am I? What happened?

We’re engaged. He asked me to marry him. I said yes. There was a ring, a nice ring with a big diamond.

I open my eyes, blinking when the bright light makes them water. I lick my lips, which are so dry they feel like they belong to someone else. My head hurts.

Blake’s head is on the bed next to mine. I’d know that hair anywhere.

I want to touch him, but I can’t seem to make anything work the way it’s supposed to. My hand is trapped under his, and he’s heavy on top of me. He’s here. That’s all that matters. For now.

I close my eyes, but only because I can’t keep them open.

The next time I open them, Blake is standing next to the window, looking out at the bright sunshine. The slight slump of his shoulders tells me how exhausted he is, and I want to comfort him. My tongue feels too big for my mouth, which is so dry that it hurts. I want to drink in the sight of him, but my eyes won’t stay open.

Frustrated, I make a sound and open my eyes again to see his blue eyes go wild as he looks down at me.

“Honey!” He takes my hand and brings it to his lips, his whiskers rough against my skin. “Darlin’, wake up. Please wake up.”

It takes everything I have to keep my eyes open, wincing at the bright light.

Blake goes to the window and closes the blinds. “Better?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Honey, sweetheart…”

I lick my lips. “Not what you call me.”

He drops his head to rest on my hand. Is he crying?

“Blake…”

“I’m here, Honeydew. I’m right here.”

“What happened?”

He looks up at me, his eyes ravaged from tears and exhaustion. “We were hit from behind on the highway. We went off the road. You have a concussion and a broken ankle. We’ve been waiting two days for you to wake up.”

Two days?
I try to process that, and then I gasp, thinking about how horrible that must’ve been for him after losing Jordan the way he did. I begin to cry. “So sorry to do that to you.”

“Aww, Honeybee, don’t cry.” He wipes away my tears. “Please don’t cry. The only thing that matters is that you’re awake and talking to me and going to be all right.”

I close my eyes because they won’t stay open. “And I’m going to marry you.”

“That, too,” he says, kissing my hand and then leaning over me to kiss my lips.

“Thirsty.”

Blake checks with the nurses, who give him permission to get me some ice chips, which are, officially, the best thing I’ve ever had in my entire life.

“So good. More.”

“Take it easy. You don’t want to make yourself sick by overdoing it.”

“Were you hurt in the crash?”

“No.”

“Have you been a mess?”

“Something like that. I couldn’t believe it was happening again.”

I wrap my hand around his, wincing when the IV fights back. “Totally different outcome this time.”

“You couldn’t tell me that the first day.” He lets his head drop down to our joined hands as if it’s too much for him to hold it up. “This guy named Clint came to our rescue out there. He helped me get you out of the truck, and then he came here to bring me our stuff.”

“That’s really nice of him.”

“It was. He waited until they towed the truck and brought me info on where to find it. It’s totaled, by the way.”

“I’m so sorry. I know how much you love that truck.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the truck, Honey. It can be replaced. You…” He draws in a choppy breath. “You… You could never…” His voice breaks, and he shakes his head.

Though I’m moved by his emotional reaction, I go for a moment of levity. “You’d better not be replacing me.”

“There’s no replacing you, Honey Nut Cheerio.”

I
spend
a week in the hospital in San Antonio before they clear me to go home. Lauren and Garrett are there for a couple of days, as are Blake’s parents, but for most of the time, it’s just the two of us, in my room, watching movies and eating the takeout he procures for us from all over the city. He says we need to take full advantage of our time here to try as many different places as we can.

The nurses have gotten used to finding him snuggled up to me in my bed, and they’ve stopped teasing us about celebrating our engagement in their hospital. They’re all super nice to us, and I’m almost sad to say good-bye to them when Blake wheels me to the front door for the ride home.

His dad made the long trek back to San Antonio to drive us home. When I ask Blake why we didn’t just rent a car, he says it was easier to have his dad come. I’ve left all the arrangements to him, so I don’t question it further, but it does strike me as odd. I wonder if he’s afraid to drive me himself, and I hope that isn’t the case.

I sleep most of the five-hour ride home, mostly because I’m still on painkillers for my ankle that knock me out. The closer we get to home, the more anxious I become about having taken more than two weeks out of work. I’ve built up a cushion, but the downside of being self-employed is that if I’m not working, there’s no money coming in.

I need to get back to it as soon as I can, but with a bulky cast on my ankle and crutches for the next six weeks, I’m not sure how I’ll manage. If I think too much about the realities of my situation, my anxiety spikes into the red zone. Along with the house that I own free and clear, Gran left me with a nice little nest egg that I’ve never touched. I pretend like I don’t have that money, but I may need to tap into it if I can’t get back to scheduling photo shoots again soon.

“What’s the matter?” Blake asks from his seat in the front.

“What do you mean?”

“When you’re worrying about something, you do this thing with your lips. You’ve been doing it for half an hour now.”

“I do? I have?” Has anyone ever paid closer attention to me than he does? No one, except for Gran, of course. I realize how much I’ve missed being “seen” the way he sees me.

He nods. “What’s on your mind?”

I glance at his dad, who’s focused on the road and not on us. Then I look back at Blake. “Let’s talk when we get home.”

His curt nod tells me he’s not happy to put it off, but he understands my desire for privacy.

We arrive at my house late in the afternoon. Even though I slept for most of the ride, I’m tired and sore, and I still have a headache that won’t quit. Blake seems to know what I need. He scoops me up from the backseat and carries me into the house.

“Thank you for coming to get us, Mike.”

“Any time, Honey. Happy to see you home safe.”

I’m surprised to see a shiny new black truck bearing Blake’s company logo in my driveway. “Where’d that come from?”

“Garrett took care of picking up a new one for me.”

“You never said if they got the guy who hit us.”

“They got him. He was drunk.”

I shudder at the thought of how much worse it could’ve been for both of us. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this.”

“Don’t apologize to me. None of it is your fault.”

I try not to focus on his sharp tone or gruff demeanor. I chalk it up to post-accident stress and his worries about getting me home and settled. Things will calm down and return to normal now that I’m home. I’m sure of it.

He sets me gently on the bed, props my ankle on a pillow and covers me with a blanket. “Comfortable?”

I extend a hand to him. “I’d be more comfy if you joined me.”

He takes my hand, gives it a squeeze and releases it. “I need to run home to pick up a few things and hit the store to get us stocked up. Lauren is going to come by to stay with you while I’m gone.”

“I don’t need a babysitter. I’m fine by myself.”

“You’re recovering from a head injury and managing on crutches. You
do
need a babysitter, so don’t argue with me.”

There’s that gruff tone again. I chalk it up to the stress he’s been under, but I begin to worry that it might be something more than that.

“Fine. Whatever you want.”

“What were you stressing out about in the car?”

“My business and the lack of revenue when I’m not working.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of anything you need.”

“That’s not what I want, and it’s not why I told you.”

“Please, Honey. Don’t worry about it. I’m going to go, but I’ll be back.”

I don’t have the energy to argue about anything, including money. “Okay.”

He turns and leaves the room. I try not to notice that he doesn’t kiss me or tell me he loves me the way he would have only last week before the crash.

I must’ve dozed off, because the next thing I know, Lauren is in my room, fussing over the blankets and arranging a vase with my favorite black-eyed Susans. “Thank you.” My voice sounds rough with sleep and the thirst I can’t seem to quench no matter how much water I drink. The nurses told me it’s because of all the medication I’ve been on.

Lauren is right there with a cup of ice water. She holds the straw for me.

“Thanks.”

“It’s nice to have you home.”

“It’s nice to be home.” I push myself up, looking for a more comfortable position, the pain in my head taking my breath away for a second.

“You’re still in a lot of pain. I hate to see that.”

“It’s better than it was.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“A new head would be awesome.”

Despite her smile, I see the exhaustion and worry etched into her pretty face. I reach for her hand.

She folds her hand into mine.

“I’m okay, Lo. I promise.”

“Scared me,” she whispers. “Getting that phone call was like Jordan all over again.”

“I know. It must’ve been awful for all of you.”

“It was. Thank God for Garrett. He showed up right after I got the call and offered to drive me to San Antonio. He was amazing through the whole thing.”

“Is that so?” I ask with a suggestive smile.

“Yeah, he was great.”

“Blake said you guys got a hotel together.”

“We did. We even slept in the same bed. Platonically.”

“Well, that’s a shame. I would’ve thought you’d use my unfortunate accident to further your agenda where he’s concerned.”

“Very funny. I was too undone over you to even think about jumping his bones.”

“Is this the same girl who coached me to walk into a bar and ask Blake to fuck me? You disappoint me.”

“Ha-ha, very funny. I was traumatized after seeing my best friend in a coma. Give a girl a break, will you?”

I roll my eyes at her, even though it hurts to do that. “I was never in a coma.”

“Well, you were out of it for days. Very
long
days. I thought Blake would lose his mind waiting for you to wake up.”

“He seems… off… Have you noticed that?”

“Garrett and I both noticed he’s extremely stressed out. He’ll be better now that you’re home.”

“I hope so.” I debate whether I should say more, because saying it out loud makes it official. “It’s just that before the accident, he was so happy. We got engaged and were making plans and everything was great. And now…”

“What?” she asks, her brows furrowing.

“He’s saying and doing all the right things, but he reminds me of the guy I picked up in a bar who wanted to keep his distance at all costs. He’s nothing at all like the guy he’d been lately.”

“He’s crazy about you, Honey. The whole town is talking about you guys getting married. You’ve got to give him some time to get past the accident and the trauma of seeing you hurt so badly. Think about what he’s been through in the past and how that must’ve affected him.”

“That’s all I can think about. Jordan’s death turned him into an emotionless shell of a man. I can’t bear to see him go back to that again, Lo.” My eyes fill with tears. “I can’t lose him to the past, not after everything we’ve shared.”

“Give it some time. Let him recover with you. In a couple of weeks, things will be back to normal. You’ll see.”

I glom on to Lauren’s reassurances, but deep down inside, I’m afraid I lost
him
in that crash.

* * *

B
y the end
of my second week at home, I’m going stir-crazy. I want to get back to work in the worst way, but I have two more days before my appointment with my regular doctor, who will, hopefully, give me the all clear to return to work on a limited basis. My ankle has gone from hurting to itching, and I’m able now to put some weight on it and hobble around without the crutches.

With my plan to resume half days next week, I contact some of the customers who were forced to wait for me to recover to reschedule their appointments. I can’t wait to get back to cranky babies and bossy mothers. That’s my normal, and I’m craving it.

Blake has been so busy dealing with the work backlog he came home to that I barely see him except for when he crawls into bed next to me, many nights after midnight. I can’t help but feel that he’s avoiding me, our relationship, our engagement, our future. Our physical relationship has become a chaste peck on the cheek before he leaves for work each morning. That’s it. He hardly ever touches me otherwise, which is not at all like the passionate man I fell in love with.

I’m trying to take Lauren’s advice and give him some time, but I’m beginning to fear that there’s no bridging the gulf the crash has put between us.

Garrett stops by late one afternoon, knocking on the door before coming in with yet another bouquet of flowers. Over the last few weeks, I’ve suspected he brings me flowers as an excuse to stop by Lauren’s shop, but he’s never said so, and I haven’t asked. Not that I’m above giving them a nudge, but it has to be done correctly. In my opinion, they’d make a great couple, and if I get the chance, I’m going to give him a subtle push in her direction.

Garrett has dark hair and eyes and a gorgeous smile. We went out a couple of times in high school, and nothing other than friendship ever came of it, but I’ve always thought he was super cute and sweet. He sits on one of Gran’s fussy little parlor chairs that’s way too small for his strapping frame. “I feel like I’m going to break this thing by sitting on it.”

“You very well might. Blake calls it dollhouse furniture.”

“I can see why. How’re you feeling, Honey?”

“Stir-crazy, ready to get back to work and my life. Otherwise, not bad.”

“Speaking of work, that’s why I stopped by.”

“If it’s awful, don’t tell me.”

He smiles, which only makes him cuter than he already is. “It’s not awful. I took the liberty of liquidating one of your CDs that came up for maturity this month, which gives you two months’ operating capital to pay this month’s bills and next, too.”

“Oh, Garrett, thank you so much for taking care of that. I’ve been freaking out about money, among other things.”

“You’re all set. Don’t worry. I’m keeping an eye on things.”

“Thank God for you. You can’t ever move away.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

I’ve known Garrett as long as I’ve known Blake, Lauren, Matt and Julie, so I’m hoping he’ll take what I’m about to say the right way. “I want to thank you for bringing Lauren to me when I needed her in San Antonio.”

“I was happy to be able to help in some way. She was a disaster. I couldn’t let her drive five hours in that condition.”

“It was good of you to look out for her.”

“That’s what friends do.”

“So you guys are friends?
Just
friends?”

“What’re you up to, Honey?” he asks with a grin.

“Nothing. Much…”

“We’re good friends. Always have been, always will be.”

“But that’s it?” I ask, my heart sinking.

“I never said that.”

“Don’t be coy with me, Garrett McKinley. She’s my best friend, and she has a crush on you.” So much for subtlety. I smack a hand over my mouth. “
OhmyGod
.” The hand I keep over my big mouth muffles my voice. “I can’t believe I said that out loud. It’s the concussion. Has to be.”