The Sweetest Love (Love Conquers All Book 5) (21 page)

Seven Months Later

Abington Hospital

Roxy discovered her water had broken at two in the morning while she sat at her kitchen table stuffing her face with Oreo cookies and reading a magazine. Waddling back to the bedroom, she gently shook Adam’s shoulder. When he wouldn’t wake up, she shook harder. And when that didn’t work she delivered a quick, firm pop to his forehead. “Adam, get up!”

She giggled through a mild contraction as he bolted straight up in bed, wild-eyed and bewildered. “What? What? Is the baby coming?”

Roxy giggled again. “Yup. My water just broke.”

The labor hadn’t been a long one, but Lord have mercy, it had been a torturous eight hours. When the contractions started to come fast, hard and close together, it felt like her legs were being ripped from their sockets. She didn’t know what she would’ve done if Adam, Reba, Ms. Brenda and her sisters weren’t there with her in the birthing suite coaching her along.

Poor Adam. He was the recipient of the brunt of her labor-induced madness. It was fine for everyone else to fluff pillows, wipe down her sweat-drenched brow and rub her back… except for Adam. She kicked him out of the room at least a dozen times, only to start crying five minutes later, begging one of her sisters to go find him. The last time she kicked him out, he’d gotten so frustrated that he’d gone outside to get some fresh air and to get away from Roxy. She really started wailing, “Where’s Adam? Go get Adam!” when it was time for her to push and he was nowhere to be found.

Lucky for her, Starr found him out front sitting on a bench. By the time they made it back the baby’s head was crowning. Rushing to her side, he tenderly kissed her sweaty brow and held her hand as she pushed out the evidence of their love.

Baby Girl West was born on August thirteenth, weighing in at seven pounds, three ounces and eighteen inches long.

“So what’s this little lady’s name?” The doctor asked as he laid the squirming babe on Roxy’s chest.”

With tears in her eyes, she gazed up at Adam. Nodding his head, he winked at his wife. Through misty eyes she announced, “Her name is Abigail Renee West.”

Both grandmothers cried tears of happiness. Baby Girl West was named after her aunt and her grandmother, Reba Renee Harris.

Sonia, Jen and Kay exited the elevator with gifts in hand. Sonia held vibrant pink, white and lavender shiny balloons. Jen carefully guarded the tote bag carrying sparkling cider and champagne glasses. And Kay cradled a bouquet of fragrant pink lilies.

“I can’t wait to see this little pumpkin,” Kay said as they waited to be buzzed onto the maternity floor.

“I know, I can’t either,” Jen added as their heels clicked on the linoleum flooring.

The three women stopped at the large glass window, their eyes searching. “Oh! There she is!” Sonia excitedly pointed out. Scooting a few steps down they peered at Baby Girl West swaddled in a pink blanket.

It was Jen who said, “She is so precious. And look at all that dark, curly hair.”

“She’s beautiful. I could stand here and look at her all day,” Kay said as she smiled and waved to the baby.

“So could I. But let’s go see how Mommy’s doing,” Sonia suggested.

“Party pooper,” Kay grumbled under her breath as they made their way down the hall to Roxy’s room. Looking over her shoulder she wondered the identity of the man who had eased up to the nursery window.

Their first day home with their newborn, the couple requested family members and friends refrain from calling and visiting for at least forty-eight hours. Roxy and Adam wanted to spend their first couple of days as a family alone.

Any anxiety Roxy carried during her pregnancy over being a new mommy dissipated. Adam was the perfect daddy and husband. He’d taken a six-week-leave of absence from work to help her adjust to their new life with a baby. And she was grateful that he had.

Her mom and sisters warned her of the post-birth exhaustion that was going to hit her like a ton of bricks. When she wasn’t nursing, she was sleeping right along with the baby. And then there were those times she changed, fed and rocked Abby and she still wouldn’t go back to sleep. The tiny bundle would smile, gazing up into her face as if to say, “Uh-uh, Mommy, you’re staying up with me!”

Adam would gingerly remove the babe from her arms. Tenderly, kissing her lips, he’d whisper, “Babe, I got her. Lie down and get some rest.”

He would wake up with her during the late night and wee hours of the morning for feedings. They’d quietly talk about everything and nothing as the babe suckled at her breast. One night he flicked on the flat screen and began channel surfing.

“Ooh, go back to that video. I love that song,” she said as she began softly singing along with Robin Thicke.

Adam watched the video. Listening to the lyrics, his head nodded to the rhythm. Cutting his eyes at Roxy and his baby girl, his chest swelled with pride. Leaning over, he tenderly kissed her. Breaking the kiss, he lovingly gazed at his wife. “
You
are the
sweetest love
.”

Officer Terrence Gulliver, relieved of traffic detail once the signals resumed working, came out of a pizzeria after having a slice and a soda. He crossed the street to the loading zone where he’d parked and immediately noticed a sleek dark blue Jaguar with North Carolina plates illegally parked a few yards in front of his police cruiser. He sauntered over to the two African-American women chatting by the open trunk. Even as he approached he noticed they were both young and attractive, which his eyes appreciated. Young and pretty black women were a rare sight in the wealthy residential neighborhood of the Upper East Side, which he covered out of the Nineteenth Precinct. But he couldn’t stop looking at the one who held car keys, who wore an indigo blue batik print dress that showed off her many attributes. Thick center-parted ringlets framed a lovely, expressive face. Her sleeveless, cowl-necked dress put well-toned dark brown arms on display. Its slim skirt just covered her knees and accented a narrow waist and a nicely protruding rear end. At the end of shapely legs, her feet were encased in navy strappy high-heeled sandals. He couldn’t imagine a better treat for a sunny summer afternoon.

“Hello, ladies,” he said when he was close enough for them to take notice of his approach. “I’m sorry, but I must remind you that there’s no parking here. You’ll have to move on.” His sharp policeman’s eye took in the women’s facial expressions and body language as well as their appearance. He’d learned to gauge reactions, for some resented his intervention, and he always wanted to know what he was dealing with. His job could be dangerous.

The beautiful brown-skinned woman with the curly hair looked at him through eyes as hostile as they were deep brown, which he felt was unfounded. Even though he had given an order, he had addressed her, as he did all people his job brought him in contact with, with both kindness and respect. Terrence couldn’t imagine what her problem was. The other woman, also quite pretty, smiled at him in a knowing manner that told him she’d noticed his eyes lingering on her friend, and in the midst of his embarrassment he suddenly realized he had seen her before.

It took a moment for it to come to him, for her hair was different, pinned up with just a few wisps framing her face in a flattering manner. “I remember you,” he said to her. “Last fall. A jewelry store thief knocked you down on Seventy-Second Street as he was getting away. I questioned you about what you’d seen and took you to the hospital to have your injuries checked out.”

Her mouth opened in recognition. “Yes, I remember you. Officer, uh… ?”

“Gulliver. Terrence Gulliver. I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name, only that you’re married, Mrs…”

“Gray. Genevieve Gray.” She turned to her friend and said, “And this is Miss Francesca Perry, my dear friend who was kind enough to pick up the cake for my husband’s surprise party. Cesca, this is Officer Terrence Gulliver.”

Terrence noted the slight emphasis on the “Miss”, a rather outdated term, the sole purpose of which was to define marital status. Mrs. Gray wanted him to know her friend was single. Well, that was fine by him. When he first met Genevieve Gray while on duty after she’d suffered numerous skin lacerations from being pushed to the ground, he’d found her as charming as she was pretty and had been a bit disappointed to learn she was married. At least he now knew that her equally lovely friend had no husband waiting to claim her. In a gallant gesture he tipped his cap. “How are you, ma’am?”

“Well, thank you,” Miss Perry replied in a clipped tone.

He quickly realized that she was about as happy to see him as a thief would be after pulling a job. Francesca Perry clearly did not like policemen. Terrence knew that some of his brothers in blue weren’t as polite as they should be when dealing with the public, especially those of darker hues. It angered him to think of this lovely woman being mistreated.

Mrs. Gray smiled at him. “I guess I’d better get the cake and get back upstairs to my guests while you park, Cesca, so Officer Gulliver doesn’t give you a ticket. Try not to take too long to come up. I’d hate for you to miss Dexter’s arrival.”

“I’ll probably just go in the garage around the corner.” Terrence watched as the lovely Miss Perry stepped off the curb and bent to carefully retrieve the boxed sheet cake. She had just grasped it from underneath when, without warning, the heavy hatch of the trunk lid descended on her and struck the back of her head, causing her to slump inside.

“Cesca!”
Mrs. Gray cried, looking frantically to Terrence for help. “Oh, my God!”

Terrence quickly moved forward and lifted the hatch. He motioned for Mrs. Gray to hold it upright, and once she complied, he grasped Ms. Perry by her shoulders and pulled her up. Her body felt limp against him. “I’m afraid she’s out cold.”

“She said the trunk almost closed on her a little while ago. She caught it that time, but this time it happened too fast. I don’t get it… the hatch was sitting up all this time, and then it gave way just like that.” Mrs. Gray sniffled. “Oh, God. I’ve got to get her to the hospital right away.” Anguish filled her features. “But I have a house full of people upstairs… my husband’s mentor… his boss… his grandparents from upstate… they all came for his surprise party. He isn’t due home for another fifteen minutes or so.” She sighed. “I guess I’ll have to let my sister-in-law take care of his surprise. Cesca needs medical attention immediately.”

Terrence’s partner, Kyle Muldoon, showed up at that moment. He’d been directing traffic on the next corner and, like Terrence, had stopped to get a snack after the signals went back into service. “What’s going on?” he asked, looking uncertainly at the unconscious woman Terrence held up.

“This young lady was just removing a cake from the trunk when it slammed down on her head and knocked her out. Her friend here has a surprise party about to start upstairs. I was just going to offer to bring the injured party to the hospital for her.”

“Oh, I can’t let you do that,” Mrs. Gray protested. “It’s not your responsibility, it’s mine.”

“I’m a public servant, remember? She obviously needs help, and this is a bad time for you. If you’ll give me a phone number I can call you and give an update, plus you can give the staff her medical information.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Mrs. Gray replied. “I’m going over there as soon as my husband arrives and we surprise him. Once I’m there, I’ll give them her insurance card and find out what’s going on firsthand.” She chewed on her lower lip before asking, “Where will you take her, Lenox Hill?”

He nodded. “It’s the closest. You’d better go park her car if you don’t want to miss your husband’s big surprise.”

Mrs. Gray hesitated, obviously torn. “Are you sure you can do this, Officer?”

“We’ll be happy to run your friend over to the Lenox Hill ER, ma’am.” Kyle said.

She let out a relieved breath. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Just think of it as history repeating itself,” Terrence said with a smile.

She smiled back at him. “You got that right. Thank you again. I should be there within an hour.”

“That’s fine.”

“We’d better get going,” Kyle said to Terrence. “You don’t want to delay medical attention for a head injury.”

“Yes, of course.” Terrence scooped up Francesca Perry’s limp, slim body and, under Mrs. Gray’s watchful eye, carried her to the cruiser. Her head tilted back with her chin upward, and her lips were slightly parted, looking, he couldn’t help noticing, like she was waiting to be kissed. Her bare shoulders, the jasmine and honeysuckle scent coming from her pores and the way her thick, curly tresses blew in the breeze made him wish he could. The last time he carried a woman, he’d taken her to a bed.

He didn’t want to think about how long ago that had been.

Kyle opened the door, and Terrence gently placed her in the back seat and strapped her in, careful not to touch her breasts as he pulled the shoulder harness across her body, but he couldn’t avoid coming into contact with her hips as he snapped the belt into the buckle. The warmth of her skin seemed to radiate through the fabric of her dress.

His breath came out in shallow gasps as he thought about how warm her naked body would feel under his own…

In her unconscious state she promptly slumped to the side, but as long as she was strapped in, Terrence knew she’d be safe.

“All right,” Kyle said as soon as Terrence got behind the wheel. “Since when are we a private ambulance service?”

“Lighten up, will you? It was a freak accident, and it happened just as her friend is trying to entertain her husband’s family and business associates. It’s not a big deal. Lenox Hill is just a few blocks from here.” He slid the siren in place on the side of the roof and took off. He noticed that Mrs. Gray stood watching, not getting behind the wheel of Francesca’s car until they had passed.

Kyle noticed, too. He gave Mrs. Gray a jaunty wave as they passed. “Since her friend has a husband, I’ve got a feeling that it’s not her you’re trying to impress, but rather the one—” he cocked his head toward the back seat “—who’s unconscious back there.”

“And I’ve got a feeling that you’ve allowed yourself to forget that we’re public servants. We don’t have to hang around. All we have to do is turn her over to the ER staff and go about our business.” He glanced at the dashboard clock. “Which, at this hour, is going back to the precinct and signing out.”

Kyle grinned across the seat. “Yeah,” he said. “We’ll go about our business. Like you’re just going to forget all about her after that. And what was that about history repeating itself?”

Terrence explained how his first encounter with Genevieve Gray involved bringing her to the hospital for treatment. “I remember being real disappointed when she said she was married.” He chuckled at the memory. “But it was good to see her again. She was a nice lady. And it’s kind of ironic that when I first met her, my partner and I took her to the hospital, and now I see her again and I’m taking her
friend
to the hospital.”

“And first you thought she was cute, and now you’re thinking the same thing about her friend,” Kyle said with a nod. “Well, they sure don’t look anything alike, so it must be the idea of a helpless female that attracts you.”

*****

The first thing Cesca became aware of when she opened her eyes was the painful throbbing in the back of her head, followed by an unyielding noise that became louder by the second.

The second thing, and far more disturbing for her, was that she was riding in the back of a police cruiser, with no handles on the doors and a metal mesh divider between her and the front seat.

I might as well be in jail… but why? What am I suspected of doing
this
time?

“Hey!” she cried out as she struggled to sit up despite the shooting pains in her head. “What’s going on here? Why am I in custody?”

“Your game,” Kyle said to Terrence under his breath.

Through the mesh divider Cesca recognized the policeman who had told her and Gen to move their car. He was driving, and she realized that they were flying past traffic and that the siren was blaring. That was the noise she heard; its source hadn’t registered until now. What the heck was going on?

“What am I doing back here?” she demanded, sounding even more agitated.

The officer — Gulliver, she thought his name was — finally provided her with an answer. “Miss Perry, you’re not in police custody. The lid of your car trunk closed on you and knocked you unconscious. Mrs. Gray will be here as soon as she can, but apparently she had house guests upstairs waiting to surprise her husband.”

“I
know
that,” she said crossly. “I picked up the cake, remember?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Terrence asked, ignoring her angry tone.

She thought for a moment. “Reaching into the trunk to pick up the cake.”

“That would have been just before it fell on you. It was a fairly heavy hatch, Miss Perry. I offered to bring you to the hospital so Mrs. Gray wouldn’t have to miss her husband’s surprise. She said she’ll be at the hospital within an hour or so.”

“Where are you taking me?”

Her tone could freeze the East River, even in July, Terrence thought. “The ER at Lenox Hill. Here we are now.”

He parked just outside of the ER entrance and cut the engine, which stopped the siren’s blast. He opened the rear door and offered his arm to help Francesca, which she met with an acid “I can do it by myself.”

He stood by politely as she unhooked her seat belt, swung her legs out and gracefully got to her feet, and when her legs promptly gave out on her, he was there to catch her, grabbing her by the indentation of her waist.

“Pardon me if I’m getting too familiar, Miss Perry, but I can’t just stand here and watch you fall.”

She blew out an annoyed breath, but said nothing.

Kyle quickly stepped forward. “I’m Officer Kyle Muldoon, Miss Perry. Can you put your arm over my shoulder?”

She did as he requested, placing her other arm around Terrence’s shoulder. The partners supported her as they went inside.

“I just have one question,” she asked, sounding more calm to Terrence’s ears. “How did I get in the back seat of that car?”

“Um… I carried you.”

She gasped.

“You were unconscious, Miss Perry,” Kyle reminded her. “There really weren’t many options.”

“I’m gonna kill Gen,” she muttered.

Inside the ER Kyle grabbed a folded wheelchair from the corner, snapped it open, and Terrence helped Francesca into it.

Terrence wheeled Francesca to the check-in desk. “I have a patient whose car trunk closed on her head and knocked her unconscious for about ten minutes,” he informed the clerk.

“I have a terrible headache,” Francesca added, “and my legs are weak.”

The clerk looked at Terrence curiously. “Is the patient in custody, Officer?”

“No!” Francesca snapped.

The clerk ignored the outburst and instead looked at Terrence for confirmation. “No, she’s not,” he said. “I had just asked her to move her car from a no-parking zone when I witnessed the incident.” He stood behind Francesca and couldn’t see her face, but was well aware of her anger at the clerk’s getting him to confirm that she wasn’t under arrest. What did she expect? Did she really believe the woman would take her word for it?