The Space Beyond (The Book of Phoenix) (24 page)

Chapter 21

What a difference a night makes. And a bouquet of flowers and lots of begging and pleading for forgiveness.

As I drove back to Orlando with Mason following me, I basked in the memory of the dramatic scene in my bedroom this morning. I especially enjoyed the part where he’d begged me. He’d actually fallen to his knees with his hands clasped in front of him, his stunning eyes darkened with sorrow and regret.

“It was an accident,” he’d repeated, as he had in his phone messages. “I still never should have swung, I know that now, but I honestly didn’t mean to touch you. My anger was out of control, I know, and I won’t make any excuses.
Please
believe me. I love you, Bex. I care for other people, making them better. How could I ever mean to hurt
you
, the one I love most?”

Sincerity had filled his tone and eyes. I’d pretty much already decided last night that he hadn’t meant for his knuckles to connect with my jaw. But I enjoyed watching him squirm and beg for my mercy maybe a little too much.

“I’ll make up for it, I promise,” he’d continued as I sat on the edge of the bed silently. “Anything I can do for you. Just believe me that I love you. I sat with your mom all night long, partly hoping you’d show up, but also because I could when not even you or your sister can. I made sure she was okay and taken care of. I talked to her about you—we believe unconscious patients can hear us. I told her how you’d turned out to be an amazing young woman she could be proud of and that I’d always take care of you.”

His eyes had shone with tears by then, making my own eyes fill.

“You know what put her in that bed in the first place, right?” I asked quietly. “Drugs and alcohol. Drunks don’t exactly have a great track record with me, and you’d been drinking last night.”

“I promise I never will again.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t expect that, Mason. Don’t make stupid promises. But if you’re an angry drunk—”

“But I’m not! Not usually. My day—” He stopped and pushed his hands through his hair, then shook his head slowly. “I said I wasn’t going to make any excuses, and I’m not. I’m sorry, Bex. I sincerely am. I let my anger get out of hand, and I swung at the pork chop, but my judgment was off and you were closer than I thought. I know it’s all my fault. I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am.”

“It’s not just that,” I’d said. “I’d been at the hospital, thinking my mama was going to die. And you expected me to serve you? The things you said?”

He blew out a heavy sigh. His shoulders sagged, and his chin dropped to his chest. His eyes rose to look up at me through his lashes. “I know, I know. I was cruel. You didn’t deserve any of that. Your smaller than me and so fragile and—”

“I’m not fragile,” I said firmly. “I’m a pretty tough cookie. But, really, Mason. You’re a doctor. You’ve got to understand what I’m going through.”

He lifted his head and placed his hands on my knees. “You’re right. With everything. I was an inconsiderate ass worried only about myself and the shit I was going through with losing a patient, and never stopped to think that your day had been just as bad.”

“Wait. You lost a patient yesterday?”

He nodded, and now I felt like the ass. He’d even told me he’d had a bad day, and had I ever stopped to ask him about it? No, I’d been as self-absorbed as I’d blamed him for being. With Grams and likely Mama soon, I had experience on the family side of losing someone, where you feel helpless and at everyone’s mercy. I’d imagined before how hard it would be for a doctor to tell their patients’ next of kin that they hadn’t made it, but this morning I thought harder about being the one who couldn’t save the person. Being the one who may have done all they could, but that still hadn’t been enough. Being the one who everyone expected to make it all better, but you failed.

The tears spilt, and I fell off the bed to my knees in front of Mason and threw my arms around him.

“I’m so sorry,” I’d said into his shoulder as he hugged me back, pulling me tightly against him.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“I wasn’t much better, Mason. I do need to be sorry, and I am.”

His hand cupped the back of my head and smoothed my hair down my back. “No, no. Last night was all my fault. I let things get out of control.”

I pulled back and looked at him. “Mason. I threw raw pork chops at you.”

We stared at each other for a moment before we both laughed. “Yeah, that was disgusting. Did I mention I took a scalding shower before going to the hospital?”

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I let things get out of control, too.”

He pulled me back against him. “I will take all the blame. I thought I’d lost you forever because of my asshole ways. And I can’t lose you, Bex. Now that I know what life’s like with you, I can’t imagine it without you.”

Tears threatened to fall again as I recalled those words. Nobody, not even Ty, had ever said anything like that to me. And I could hear in his voice, feel in his body as his heart pounded against my chest the conviction that he believed what he said without a doubt. So here I was, driving back to Orlando with a heart full of love and hope. We’d made it through our first fight, and I thought, if anything, we might have loved each other more now than before. And that was a good sign.

As I rolled the car to a stop at the bottom of the exit ramp near home, my phone rang. Leni.

“Hey, girl, what’s up?” I answered cheerfully.

“You sound happy.” She sounded surprised.

“Yeah, everything’s great. I mean, Mama’s back in the hospital, in ICU even, but Mason thinks she’ll pull through. At least for now. I’m on my way there.”

“So you’re back in Orlando? Jeric said he saw your car this morning.”

“Um, yeah, I drove down last night for a couple of things I forgot.” I wasn’t about to tell her the truth. Now that Mason and I had made up, nobody needed to have their noses in our business. “I needed to get back here this morning, so sorry I didn’t stop by to say hey.”

“That’s okay. Um … Brock and Asia and Jeric and I are talking about coming down there. Can we meet up for drinks tonight?”

“Actually, if Mama’s doing okay, Mason’s taking me out to a nice dinner.” One of his promises to make up for last night.

“Oh, too bad. I’d, uh … we’d hoped to see you guys. We’ll be there a few days, though, so maybe tomorrow? I at least need a coffee or something with my girl.”

“Sure. Sounds good.” Once we hung up, I wondered if she’d really sounded off or if that was my imagination. I still thought the girl was a little odd, even though I’d come to like that about her. But sometimes she seemed even more so than usual. Like today. I worried about her, wondering if something was wrong. Maybe wanting to go out for drinks or coffee was an excuse to talk about something she needed to get off her chest.

I pulled into the hospital parking lot and shifted mental gears. Mason said he’d needed to go home and shower and take care of stuff before he came to the hospital, but I’d come straight here. If Mama was still doing okay and they didn’t need anything from me, I’d go home and shower later to get ready for our date. I spent a few hours in the family room with Sissy, each of us taking turns to see Mama when they allowed, but she slept the entire time. Her condition hadn’t worsened, but Dr. Munthe came by to let us know he couldn’t yet make a decision about the surgery. By the time I headed home, Mason had never showed.

When I walked in the door and into our bedroom, though, I forgot to be mad at him. A gorgeous, fancy black dress lay on the bed, the tags still on it, and good night, it took me a week of tips back home to earn that much money.

“I love it,” I told Mason as soon as he answered his phone.

“I can’t wait to see it on you. Sorry I didn’t get to your mom before you left. I had a couple other patients to see. I’m about to see her now, though, then I’ll be home.”

I took a long, luxurious shower, scrubbing and polishing every inch of my skin and removing every unwanted hair. I painted my toenails and applied my makeup carefully, following the online tutorials to create the smoky-eye look. I watched another video and tugged and twisted my hair into an up-do with half of my hair piled on my head and the rest falling in ringlets down my back. After wiggling into the body-hugging dress and strapping on my favorite platform heels, I inhaled deeply, and then stepped in front of the full-length mirror.

My eyes went directly to the dress, which couldn’t have fit more perfectly if it’d been custom sewn for me. A sleeveless number with a plunging yet tasteful neckline, the swanky material pooled around my boobs, then tightened at the waistline, hugging every curve down to a few inches above my knees. Sexy as hell, but still classy. As I turned and twisted, loving how it fit my body, the light bounced off small, sparkly pieces woven into the fabric. Damn, the dress looked hot on me.

I checked out my hair and face next and loved how the black dress set off the red of my hair and made my blue eyes pop. My gaze quickly traveled down to my feet, approving the shape of my legs in those heels. I grinned widely and nearly squealed with giddiness for the night. That first time we’d gone out to the upscale steak house, I hadn’t been prepared. This time I was and looking at my reflection, I appeared to belong in a fancy restaurant or even a club house as much as any high falutin’ debutante.

But then my eyes couldn’t help zeroing in on the tattoos on my arms and collarbone, displayed in all their glory. Or the zirconia stud in the right side of my nose, or the hoops along the ridge of my ear. My makeup suddenly looked caked on and my hair ridiculous. The dress was still beautiful, but who I was fooling? This so was not me.

My shoulders fell, my mood tumbling after. With a sigh, I bent over to undo my shoes. I couldn’t go out in public like this.

“Holy shit, Bex,” Mason said from the bedroom door, his voice filled with an awe I’d never heard before. I stood up and looked over my shoulder at him. “I thought that dress would look good on you, but I had no idea …”

I tried to give him a smile. He narrowed his eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“This isn’t me, Mason. I look ridiculous.” I turned back to the mirror and waved my arm toward my silly reflection.

“Like hell you do.” He walked up behind me, his gaze reflecting back at mine, holding it. Without breaking the lock, he dipped his head down and planted his lips on my neck. “You look phenomenal. I don’t know if I can manage getting through the night before taking it off of you, though.”

I turned around and draped my arms around his neck. “Let’s not go out, then. Let’s stay here and order in, and we can spend the night alone … but together.”

His lips tipped up slightly. “Very tempting. But I’m too proud of you and need to go out and show off my girl.”

I frowned. “I look like a fake wannabe, Mason.” I flicked my fingers over the tattoo on my collarbone. “I don’t belong at a fancy restaurant or even in this dress.”

He stared straight into my eyes. “You belong by my side, wherever that is. Don’t let anyone tell you differently, especially yourself. I’m in this forever, precious. And that will mean fancy dinners and club houses, and you will be there looking every bit as hot as you do now. And you damn well do belong in that dress. I swear it was made for you.” He gave me a kiss, and then said, “We’re going out. I just need a quick shower.”

I sighed as he pulled away, undressing as he walked for the bathroom. I was half-tempted to follow him in, but he was insistent about our plans, and I didn’t want the steam to ruin my look, as fake as it was.

“Do you know the first reason I fell in love with you?” he asked a few minutes later as he came out of the bedroom, wearing black dress pants and buttoning up a light green shirt that made his eyes even more stunning than usual. “You didn’t seem like the type who cared what other people think.”

I turned in my place on the couch and looked up at him. “It’s not that I care all that much about what other people think, especially snobby-nosed assholes. But I do know where and how I’m comfortable, and that’d be wearing a halter top, cut-off shorts and cowboy boots while whoopin’ it up at a K-bomb. Not dressed like this and eating fancy food at a restaurant so dark you can’t see what you’re eatin’ and so hoity-toity, you’re afraid to even laugh out loud.”

“Maybe this will make you feel a little better.” He held out a small, square box in his palm. I froze. I was so not ready for this. He must have seen the panic in my eyes, because he snorted. “Don’t worry. It’s not that. Not yet.”

He gave me a wink before sitting on the couch next to me and leveling the box in front of my chest. I reached out and lifted the top. Inside lay a pendant—a silver pair of cowboy boots with a bright pink stone at the top of each. A kind of squeal mixed with a laugh escaped my lips, and I picked it up. A silver necklace dangled from it.

“This is too much, Mason,” I said, but I turned my back for him and held the necklace out. “But I love it.”

He fastened the necklace and although it might have looked all wrong with the dress, it somehow made it all feel more right. Mason took me out to an amazing dinner, and after we came home, the best part of fighting began: the makeup sex.

“I don’t want to do the dominance thing tonight,” I said against his mouth as we kissed while making our way to the bedroom.