Unexpected Ride (3 page)

Or maybe they were just unsure what to say.  Either way, it kept people from asking.  Now that someone had finally asked her about Doug, what could she say?  What did Greg really want to know?  Did he want her good memories of being with Doug, the bad part of losing him, the funny things he used to say or maybe the guilt she felt that she’d not been the one who had went out in the storm to pick up Meredith that night.

This time when the tears burned in her eyes there was no turning them down or even off completely.  Instead she could feel them sliding silently down her cheeks.  All these months… a year in fact… she had let her grief simmer and it chose now to boil over?  Fighting the emotions only succeeded in making her throat burn as well. 

She both heard and felt him approach where she stood until one thick muscled left arm forced her to set the knife down she still held.  Then it wrapped around her shoulders from behind and cupped the side of her face.  He awkwardly pulled at her until she gave in and turned into his embrace.  He kept his injured arm turned away from her to avoid accidentally bumping it as he had earlier in the car but he held her none the less.

Holding her against him she could not help but take in the scent of his aftershave but beyond how good he smelled and his devastating smile was something she desired even more. 
Comfort.
 

There had been so many friends that she and Doug had known over the course of their marriage that had shown up for his funeral.  Their kind words and hugs had tried to offer condolences.  Even the group of bikers she had come to know vicariously through Chuck often tried to offer comfort.  This man who rarely actually spoke to her and only had one shoulder to offer at the moment was whose arms she found around her now that the flood gates were finally open.

“I guess that answers my real question,” he whispered into her hair.  “I’m sorry for your loss and though it’s nothing in comparison to what you’ve already done for me over this past week, I hope that I can be here for you in return.”

Chapter Two

Having watched Carla fall apart in his arms was an experience Greg hoped never to have to repeat for as long as he lived.  That was the only reason he was still using the guest room in her home instead of going to stay at the beach house.  It had been nearly two weeks since the surgery on his shoulder and a full week since he’d been released from the hospital. 

His follow up appointment with the surgeon a couple of days ago had resulted in having some of the stitches removed and getting confirmation that the infection that had kept him in the hospital much longer than he would have preferred was gone. 

The man who shot him had been arraigned and brought before a grand jury.  According to Becca, who was the intended victim, the man had taken a plea deal so a trial wouldn’t be necessary.  However, Greg was still stuck in Florida until he was well enough to travel back home to New York.

There were a couple more physical therapy sessions coming up but his arm and shoulder still ached horribly.  As if that wasn’t bad enough the stupid sling that kept his arm at an odd angle did nothing more than annoy him and itch like it was infested with fleas.   

He had a doctor’s appointment in a little while and was hoping the last remaining stitches and the sling would be things of the past because all he could think about was taking a shower… baths were for women and little kids.  The surgeon had advised him to keep his arm in the sling and avoid getting his surgical wound wet, which made showers next to impossible. 

As if he could actually shower one handed anyways.
  His uninjured arm was too useless to do a very good job at even something simple, like washing his hair.

Frustration was his middle name and tomorrow Carla was having half the state over for Thanksgiving dinner and a birthday party for Chuck.  She had insisted that Greg at least stay until after the holiday was over before going to stay at his sister’s beach house.  This meant he should at least attempt to shave since he was starting to resemble something that just came down out of the mountains.  And maybe take another stab at shampooing his hair. 

After her emotional outburst his first day out of the hospital, he had listened as Carla talked about her late husband and how much she missed him.  The following day he had went with her to visit her husband’s grave and then that Sunday he went to the cemetery again with Carla, her two boys, Meredith and Chuck. 

Seeing the soft hearted woman trying to comfort her children had made Greg want to be there for her even more as she tried to be the rock her children needed as they remembered the life…
and death
… of their father. 

Aside from trying to be a friend to Carla since, much to his disappointment, she wasn’t really ready for anything else, he had been pretty much useless after getting out of the hospital.  His left arm was nothing more than an appendage to make him appear symmetrical. 

Besides wiping his own ass and feeding himself with a fork or spoon there wasn’t much else it was useful for.  Carla knew this but for the most part was patient when he felt the need to at least attempt to do things for himself.  This only served to piss him off more since he wasn’t just another one of her children she needed to take care of and encourage.

“Sports are good for kids and can
help
their grades, right, Mom?” Carla’s oldest son, Matt, said as he entered the kitchen.

“I appreciate your attempts to help your brother, but no football until he starts doing better in school.  He needs to be worried about paying attention and doing his assignments when he is supposed to,” Carla replied as she gathered up her keys and purse.

“But, Mom, he
loves
football!  Maybe if he plays it will use up some of his energy so he
can
pay better attention,” Matt argued.

“No… absolutely not… so arguing is pointless.  That is the end of this discussion,” Carla said and then looking at where Greg sat at the bar she said, “Are you ready to go?”

When he nodded she looked back at Matt and said, “I’ll see you when I get back.  Behave yourself for your sister and make sure your room is picked up for tomorrow.”

Matt huffed out of the kitchen and Greg followed Carla out to her car.  Her youngest son Ben was six and a half and in first grade and had talked non-stop for most of the week about playing flag football.  He had brought home paperwork from school for Carla to look at during the holiday break for a pee wee league that was forming since Ben was still too young to play for the school. 

Unfortunately he’d also brought home a less than favorable report from the teacher about paying attention in class and not talking so much.

Though Greg hadn’t been around long enough to actually watch Ben play, even Chuck had expressed that the boy was a natural.  Being able to play was one thing but even if he wasn’t able to play so well just yet, his size would make up for any lack of skill.  At six, Ben was almost the same size as his older brother, Matt, who was nine.  Ben was tall for his age and built like he belonged on the defensive line. 

As much as Greg shouldn’t get involved since it wasn’t really any of his business and for the most part they all ignored the fact that he was even there anyways, Matt did have a point. 

Greg had also been one of those kids with too much energy and a healthy dose of adrenaline that was often released at the wrong times, so he could relate to Ben.  Hell, he had been bored out of his skull most of this past week while he’d been unable to do much, so having to sit still all day at school was probably really hard to do for a six year old boy.

“I don’t mean to pry but…” he started to say when she got in the driver’s seat after having closed his door.

“Then please don’t…” Carla said, obviously frustrated.  “I feel like the only one in the whole house who thinks that Ben’s behavior and grades are more important than his obsession with football.  Even Chuck acts like I am being too harsh on him… but his schoolwork has to come first.”

Waving his left hand defensively he said, “Sorry.   I just think that Matt has a point.  An overactive boy having to sit still and pay attention to things he couldn’t care less about is probably even harder if every muscle in his body desperately wants to get up and move.  That’s all…”

“I understand that but I can’t hold him to a lower standard than I expected out of Meredith and Matt… it’s not fair to them or to Ben for that matter.  I realize he struggles a little more with his school work and is much more active than either of them has ever been, but he may just need to try harder since it doesn’t come as easy for him,” Carla replied.  “He’s kind of like bull in a china shop most of the time so I can understand why his teacher has problems with him.”

“He’s built like one too,” Greg mumbled under his breath and then said, “Was your husband a big man?”

As much as he feared she might again break down crying over the husband she clearly loved and missed, she needed to talk about him.  That much was obvious.  She looked thoughtful for a moment and then smirked slightly.

“Ben definitely has more of his father’s build than mine.  I think he will end up being bigger than Doug was though… taller
and
bulkier.  Doug was about your height but over the years he became… heavy.  Ben isn’t overweight, he’s just really big for his age,” Carla smiled at whatever memory or thought was behind the faraway look in her eyes.

He remained quiet about the topic during the remainder of the car ride.  As he sat in the waiting room and then in the examination room and then later in another room after getting another set of x-rays taken, he truly could sympathize with Ben’s situation. 
Sitting still sucked.

“Would you like a magazine or something to read?” Carla asked him as he once again changed positions in his chair.

“No,” he said a little more intensely than he should have.

“Sorry… you are just antsy and I thought maybe you were bored,” Carla said, looking at his mouth.

She really needed to stop doing that because staring at his lips just made him want to kiss her with them… maybe use them to make
her
antsy. 

Most of the women he dated were what he and the other single guys on the force referred to as holster sniffers… women who chased and slept with cops or tried to marry them.  Most of them were considerably younger than him and sometimes not very smart.  A few of them had been real lookers.  None of them had felt so honest and real… not like Carla.  She didn’t try to get him to take notice of her which only served to make him more interested.

Carla was a looker too but, rather than lots of curves and makeup paired with tight or skimpy clothes, she was a classic beauty.  Large round brown eyes that nearly swallowed a person whole when they looked at you and a pert little nose were the first things Greg noticed about her. 

She had light brown hair that was cut really short like a man’s haircut, which he normally didn’t care for on a woman, but on her it showed her slender neck.  Making him want to touch it or kiss it with his mouth that she was always staring at. 

“Maybe I need to play a little football or do
something
strenuous… to expend some of my excess energy so
I
can sit still,” he said, grinning like an idiot.

Those brown eyes met his gaze quickly when the meaning behind his words sank in.  He was a little unprepared when she smiled sadly and then said, “I think I miss that the most… my husband was always teasing me like that.”

Not exactly what he wanted to hear… but having done a little detective work by asking people who were closest to Carla… mainly her daughter, Meredith… he knew she really needed to talk about the accident and the effect it had on
her
life.  That would not stop him from trying to get her to notice him as a man.

“I wasn’t trying to tease you… I was trying to tempt you,” he replied.

Her eyes went right back to his lips and hers parted slightly as though inviting him to taste them.  He recognized when a woman was turned on, or at least interested, and Carla was one or both. 
Success!
  He was pretty sure if his shoulder would allow it he might get a penalty for excessive celebration right here in the doctor’s office. 

Becca had been right when she told him that Carla’s disinterest every time he had seen her or talked to her over the past few months was because she hadn’t finished grieving for her husband yet.  She had said that until Carla actually did or at least started the process, she wouldn’t be able to move on.  After a weekend of tears and a couple of conversations about her late husband, Carla was actually starting to notice that Greg existed.  Did that mean she was working through her grief… or that she might be interested in him?
Or both?

He wasn’t really sure why he had such a feeling of exhilaration over the idea that she not only was aware of him now but had even responded to him a little bit, but he did.  Having tried several times to provoke a response from her and waiting much longer for an acknowledgment than he would for most women, it made him a little upset when the doctor chose that moment to enter the room and effectively kill the mood.  Carla immediately went back to treating him like another one of her children. 
Damn it!

Maybe because he’d never had children of his own and was clueless on how to be a parent maybe that was why it felt that way.  Perhaps it was hard to switch back and forth between parent role and regular adult mode.  Thinking about it, Carla treated Meredith and Chuck the same way and they were also adults.  Greg was just being sensitive because in an instant his whole life had changed.  Almost dying did that for a person… made you start questioning and considering things you’d never paid attention to before… like when a woman stared so intently at your mouth that all you could think about was tasting her with it.

“The arm and shoulder are healing nicely for a man your age.  Being healthy, in good shape and active helps the healing process along.  I’m willing to remove the rest of the stitches today.  However, I do think we need to keep the sling in place for at least another week while you work with the therapist,” the doctor said.  Upon seeing the look of frustration that Greg knew must be written all over his face, the doctor continued.  “The receptionist did express to me how anxious you were to get the sling off today… all three times you called… but quite honestly that gash in your shoulder needs a little more time to heal.”