The Heart (19 page)

“I love the way you’re looking at me right now,” he whispered as I worked above him, our intimate connection still strong as it thrummed between us.

“Oh yeah?” I leaned over him, doing a position check for his head. “How am I looking at you?”

“Like I’m the only man in the world.”

I ignored his comment as a small lump formed in my throat and did my best to concentrate on getting him into position.

“Excuse me, but could you please put a shirt on? This is highly unprofessional,” he said in mock annoyance.

“Oh, Mr.—”

I froze and looked down on him just as his pointer and thumb closed on my nipple. I shrieked as he twisted it painfully then screamed out his last name. “Sawyer, it’s Sawyer!”

“Hmph, best not forget it,” he slapped my ass painfully before he resumed his position.

“All right, lie perfectly still, understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed easily though his hands continued to roam over my chest and neck as he looked up at me with a sexy grin.

“I said lie still.” I placed his hands in position. “Is there any chance at all you may be pregnant?”

“Slim,” he said, playing along.

“Just to make sure, I’m going to place this on your chest,” I said picking up the magnetic pack and throwing it into position over him.

“A girl can never be too careful,” he said in a pathetic attempt at a woman’s voice.

“Jack,” I chuckled, looking down at him as a sudden mix of emotions struck me.

“What is it, beautiful?” he asked as he reached up to push the falling hair from around my face.

I felt myself fill with gratitude. I wanted to give him a piece of what he’d given me over the last few days, but I couldn’t put it into words.

“Lie still!”

“Yep,” he said, placing his hands at his sides.

I walked into the adjacent room and started the machines, knowing how to use them but also with the knowledge that we would hire the best technician to utilize them. It was a critical part of the diagnosis and we had no room for error. As I stood in the quiet room and pressed the speaker to call out instructions, a crippling fear overtook me as he lay in the body basket. For a brief moment, I panicked as the machine began to turn. A prayer went up for the first time since I could remember, and I had to take a seat as fear swept through me.

“Breathe, Rose.”

It had been almost a solid year since I’d had an attack. As I studied the images flashing across the screen, I was unable to stop myself from scrutinizing them. I took a deep breath and held it before I let it go. It came out sputtering and weak, and I felt the tears start to roll down my face. Heart pounding out of control, I braced myself and felt the inevitable panic wash over me.

“Not now, not now, chill out, Rose,” I scolded myself as I began to shake. Several long breaths later, I knew it was pointless as wave after wave of fear gripped me. My forehead damp with sweat, I began to work through it as my need to see his scans became a sort of lifeline.

I studied every scan for several minutes with hyper-focused scrutiny as they appeared. Relief swept through me as I saw a perfectly healthy set of CTs. I had to give myself another moment to collect myself. A much more somber version of me walked out of that room, and I knew I would do a poor job of hiding it. I was an absolute wreck.

I pushed the button and saw Jack’s easy smile as he emerged in one piece while I stood in a million before him. His smile quickly turned to worry when he saw my face.

“Rose?” He shot up from the table.

“They’re all clear,” I said with heavy breath.

“God, you’re so pale,” he said, pulling his shirt from the floor and making quick use of it before gripping my arms. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Jack looked around to search for the person responsible for my upset, but she was standing right in front of him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. Look, I can show you where the scans are clear. Come on.” I gestured toward the door.

“I don’t give a fuck about the scans,” he barked. “Why are you shaking?”

“I’m tired,” I said as I lied truthfully. For the first time since I’d met him, I wanted to be away from Jack.

“Why won’t you tell me?”

“I have to go home now, okay?”

Jack’s jaw tightened as he made peace with my reluctance to share.

We took turns turning off the lights, and I locked up as he turned me to him and pulled me into his arms. I pushed back the emotion I was feeling and held him tightly in front of the center’s double doors.

“I’m headed back to New Orleans tomorrow for a bit, but I’ll be back, okay?”

I nodded, unable to voice the words I’d wanted to say earlier. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked in a whisper.

“For being real, being something I can touch.”

“Talk to me,” he implored again. “It won’t matter what it is.”

“I just... panicked.”

Jack pulled back and searched my eyes. “You were afraid my scans wouldn’t come back clean?”

I nodded with a sharp laugh as my eyes filled again. “I’m stupid, right?”

“No,” Jack said with no humor whatsoever, “you have a beautiful heart.”

“I’m not a fan of it,” I said as he wiped the tears away from my face for the third time that night.

“It’s what made me a fan of you,” he said in reassurance. He pulled away and tilted my chin up. “The first time I saw you, your face was full of love for the little boy you were holding. You looked so incredibly beautiful, you knocked the wind out of me.” He looked back at the building and then to me. “Just look what you’re doing with this place.” He leaned in and took my lips in a gentle kiss. “Look at you now,” he murmured. “You make it hard to breathe, Rose Whittaker.”

“And you make it easier for me,” I whispered back. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I best not pull that shit on any of my patients,” I said dryly.

“Probably not a good idea,” he agreed.

Jack insisted on driving me home on the back of his bike, but not before he had a good laugh at my expense because of my reluctance to get on. A few short minutes later, he was on my porch, kissing me with the same need he had since his lips first met mine.

“I’ll see you soon,” I said as he finished our kiss and left me panting.

“Not soon enough,” he whispered. “Sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Jack, please don’t hold tonight against me.”

“Never. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Another whisper of his lips and he was gone.

I found myself in a scalding tub that night, brainless. I’d needed to know I was capable of feeling again, but at what cost? Was I ready to feel all that a relationship entailed? My panic attack argued against it, but everything else told me I wasn’t anywhere near ready to give Jack up.

And I wasn’t going to.

Like everything I’d been doing since the devastation of losing Grant took over my life, I’d have to do it scared.

“If that Duggar woman can push nineteen children out of her vagina and raise them, you can get out of bed, Rose.”

Days later, I sat at the dinner table with my family as my mother spoke about the opening of the center and the party she was planning for later that night after the ribbon cutting.

“Which one of you wants to speak?”

I looked to Dallas, who was looking at me. “Rose should do it since we’re dedicating the center to Grant.” She pushed another spoon of sweet potatoes into Annabelle’s reluctant mouth, and I chuckled as she spit them out. Dallas blew out a harsh breath of frustration.

“You are a mean baby,” Dallas said as Annabelle smashed the discarded sweet potatoes into her highchair tray with her chubby hand, challenging her mother with a loud “No.”

“Let me try. Eat something, babe,” Dean said, taking the spoon from my sister. Every day, my respect and love grew for the man who worked hard to take care of his family. Dean had come back for my sister years after they’d split up and won her back through his love and devotion, which remained a staple of who he still was to this day. I looked on as he spooned another bite of sweet potatoes from the jar. Annabelle took his bite, fooling both of her doting parents and playing with it in her mouth. And just as they praised her, she spit it out. My father laughed loudly at his granddaughter’s cruelty as Dean pleaded with his daughter to cooperate.

I looked back at my mother, who was still waiting for a response to her question. “I’ll speak, but I hope you all know not to say anything to anyone about Grant, especially the crew and new employees.”

My father simply nodded in understanding as he filled his plate with food.

My mother and sister looked at me confused. “I mean, I know the name of the center will be questioned, but we can just tell them he was a dear friend of the family without going into specifics. I had to endure months of sympathy and answering questions. It wore on me, okay? It’s my story to tell and only if I choose to. I don’t want you all telling it for me, to
anyone,
okay?”

I got a collective agreement from the table and sat back in hopes that it remained that way. Though my reasons for asking them now were specific to Jack, I truly hated the unwanted sympathy offered whenever I shared that my fiancé had died a week before our wedding in a horrific car accident. It wasn’t something I freely talked about to anyone except Dallas, and even our conversations had died in frequency. Nothing about it seemed therapeutic to me. I didn’t want to relive what happened. I only wanted to remember the time I had with Grant. And for now, that meant to keep my memories separate from the current life I was living. As fucked up as it might have been, I’d compartmentalized everything. And when I was struggling to breathe or simply exist as a human day-to-day, ritual seemed the only thing that kept me grounded.

I still replayed my time with Grant every day, down to the smallest possible detail. Even considering my new situation with Jack, I remained faithful to my promise to never forget Grant. My heart remained faithful to him and yet my affection for Jack seemed to stem from somewhere similar. I silenced the judgment that brewed inside of me. I reasoned that as long as I kept Jack within the set parameters, I could keep my promise.

The next day after a long shift at the hospital, I wanted nothing more than my drab ritual of a hot bath and a mind-numbing amount of wine. I was absolutely floored when I arrived home to see a party in full swing at the center. Two large red tents were erect at the side of the main building on the grass and there looked to be at least forty people or more beneath it. Zydeco music wafted through the air, and I could easily detect the smell of heat-filled spices. Slightly irritated that no one had mentioned a party by so much as a text, I stomped my way into one of the tents, looking for a Whittaker’s ass to kick.

My mother and Jack were front and center as Jack hooked opposite arms with her and they both stomped their feet in what I could only guess was a jig. Jack was flawless in his delivery as my mother struggled but kept up nicely. Her face was lit with so much excitement that a small amount of my anger diminished. I heard my name being called but ignored it as I watched Jack in his element. His enamored look for my mother as he taught her a thing or two was enough to make me want to go to him, and yet as I watched, he had no idea of his draw on me. I finally ripped my eyes away from them both to look around the tent and felt transported. It was humid, and though everyone around me was damp with sweat, there wasn’t one person in the crowd without a smile. A small buffet table had been set out, stuffed with crawfish, jambalaya, dirty rice, and artfully arranged breads. The tents were illuminated with strings and strings of red and white lights. Beer poured freely from a few tapped kegs, and there wasn’t a hand in the house without a celebratory cup. I recognized the partygoers as the building crew and a few friends of our family. Scanning the crowd, I spotted Dallas, who was waving to me from across the dance floor, Annabelle on her hip, her hair a sweaty mess, and a refreshing smile on her face. I lifted my hands in a questioning manner, and she rolled her eyes, waving me over to her. I cut through the crowd and out of the tent then made my way to her. I neared Dallas in time to see her pass Annabelle off to Dean. I began to look for Grant and couldn’t find him. I pinched Dallas’s ass hard through her scrub pants, and she shot up with a loud yelp as she turned to me with menace.