Untimely You (5 page)

“I can assure you I’ll be dedicated to any task you give me,” I tell him with a saucy wink and a knowing grin.

His brows bunch together in confusion and he sits up straight. “Miss Noble—”

“Call me Neesy.”

He seems mildly annoyed at having been interrupted but continues. “Neesy, this job requires complete and total dedication. I can’t have you playing around. I need you attentive and responsive. I need you available as often as possible. I need your vibrancy and life. I need you…”

The way he trails off and stares up at the ceiling has me believing he can barely control his need for me. I can be all of these things. I’m willing to give it a go with the wickedly handsome yet troubled god of a man.

“You have all of me,” I promise sincerely.

He sighs in relief and stands. I can’t help but let my eyes graze down his bulging biceps. I’ve been with plenty of men over the years but never one who looks like this. I’m willing to bet he can do things to my body that no woman has ever experienced. Especially not this woman. Heat rushes to my core and I clench my thighs together.

“Thank you. You’re…” He scrubs his smooth face with his palms. “You’re heaven sent.”

His kind words embarrass me because his tender tone is incredibly sincere. The man before me is slightly broken and hides behind his powerful façade. It started with sex but now I’m curious to learn more than what he displays on his tough exterior.

“I’m naughty some of the time,” I tell him with a playful wink.

He pops open his gorgeous mouth in shock at my words and I wonder if I took it a little too far. “You’re something else, Neesy.” His bewilderment only confuses me more.

Adrian Hocksted is a mystery I plan on solving.

“Come on. I have to get to work soon so I’ll show you where I want you to stay today and what I want you to do.” He makes his way over to the door, and I gladly follow behind him.

“Will you be coming home on your lunch break?”

He shrugs as he strides out of the office and through the large den to a door off to the left of the kitchen. “Probably not. I usually get as much work done as I can so that I can leave promptly at five. Most days that means working through lunch.”

I frown. Then what the hell am I going to do all day?

His hand curls around the doorknob and he pauses. I take the time to inspect his broad shoulders and his muscular back. My fingers crave to touch him—all of him.

“Listen,” he says in a soft, husky voice. “I need your promise that you can do this. Please. You don’t understand how important this is to me.”

I swear his eyes glisten with tears and I’m officially perplexed. “Of course. Whatever you need.” At this point, if he were super kinky and liked whacking off to me eating peanut butter or some shit, I’d do it. The sadness in his eyes rips at my heart, and I know I’d do anything for him as long as that look goes away. It’s as if he opened a door into his soul and let me briefly gaze at it in its purest form. I’m stunned at the rawness of it all.

He nods. “Thank you.”

I anxiously hobble from one unsteady heel to the other hoping he’ll open the damn door and show me what has him in a twist. My anxiety has skyrocketed as I push away silly images of me and him in bed together. The look on his face was far from sexual. In fact, nothing up until now has been sexual at all. Quite frankly, it’s been nothing but wishful thinking on my part. But now, as he stares at me with a despondent, far-off look, I know what he wants me to do has nothing to do with his body and everything to do with his heart.

Swallowing down the realization that I won’t be sleeping with this man today, I flash him a supportive smile and wait for him to show me what’s behind door number one.

He turns the knob, finally seeming at peace with my presence, and pushes into the dark room. The smell hits me first and my throat seizes up. Sterile. And then the sounds hit me.

Swoosh-fhoo. Swoosh-fhoo. Swoosh-fhoo.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sounds working together to make a haunted, dark symphony.

“I just opened the goddamned curtains,” he growls, and storms over to the windows.

“I thought the sun was bothering her.” A plump, older nurse sits in a chair in the corner. The glow of her iPhone lights up her guilty face as she slowly lowers it to her lap.

“The sun never bothers her. She loves the sun.” His voice has dropped to a wicked tone and I shiver.

Dragging my eyes away from his pacing frame, I peek at the woman on the bed. Her tiny body remains stretched out over a hospital-issued bed. A large tube is down her throat and responsible for the
swoosh-fhoo
sounds I’d heard upon entering. Her dull, blonde hair has a greasy sheen to it and hangs limp around her face. The color of her skin is almost a greyish green and her eyes remain closed.

What is going on here?

“Neesy, this is my wife Chrissy. We’re going on twenty years of marriage this month.”

Wife. Twenty years. Shit! I am such a damn fool.

“Oh.”

He stalks over to her and his massive frame towers over her. For a moment, it’s as if he’s a fierce dragon protecting a maiden in distress in a tower, ready to breathe fire and annihilate anyone who so much as looks at her wrong. His dedication to the woman is admirable.

“Nurse, leave. You knew the rules and you fucking broke them.”

She huffs but doesn’t argue and storms from the room.

“Uh, Adrian, I’m not a nurse,” I tell him softly. My gaze falls to my heeled feet and I feel like a fucking fool for my erroneous assumptions. God, I’m going to hell for thinking this was something entirely different.

“I know. The nurses who keep showing up are worthless. She needs a friend.”

I bite down on my lip and tentatively approach the bed. The woman doesn’t move. Doesn’t flinch at his harsh tone. Doesn’t make a single sound.

“What exactly do you want me to do? Is she in a coma?” I don’t mean to pry but I’m not sure how Adrian wants me to be her friend.

His jaws clench together and he drops his gaze to her unmoving form, grabbing her hand between his. “Chrissy is in a prolonged vegetative state. And I want you to read to her.”

I
wait for a horrified response. Or even a disgusted one. But instead, Neesy approaches the bed without hesitation. She takes my wife’s hand and squeezes it, simultaneously squeezing my heart.

“Will she wake up?”

I swallow the thick ball of emotion in my throat and will the tears away. “The doctors say she won’t. They claim there’s absolutely no brain activity and that the machines keep her alive.”

“How terrible,” she gasps under her breath.

I bristle at her comment. “But they’re not here when from time to time her eyes flutter or a soft moan comes from her. Several times her finger has twitched.”

Her lips press into a firm line and her brows bunch together. “Did you not have an advanced directive in place? Surely this is no way for her to live, Adrian.”

Blind rage explodes around me and I stalk over to her. My hand grips her throat and I back her into the wall behind her. Wild hazel eyes meet mine, but she doesn’t say a word. For a second I notice the flecks of green mixed with the blues and brown. Each shade flickers with life—life that Chrissy’s no longer contain. Neesy’s perfume is sweet and floral. I hate that it breathes life into the sterile room and at the same time, I love that it does.

“Don’t ever let her hear you say shit like that. Do you understand me?” I snarl.

I’ve crossed the line. I have physically put my hands on my employee because I don’t like her saying what everyone else, including my son, says. It doesn’t hurt any less with each cut of their words.

“I’m sorry. I won’t say it again.” Her eyes shimmer with emotion but not fear. My thumb lingers at the side of her throat, enjoying the erratic thumping of her pulse. She holds my gaze as she gently clutches my wrist and pulls it away from her throat. The touch jolts me back to reality and I stumble away from her.

“Don’t touch me,” I hiss.

She rubs at her throat. “Adrian, calm down. I’m only trying to understand what I’m doing. I’m not a threat to you or your wife.”

Her words pour themselves into me, and I allow them to soothe me. “Jesus, I was out of line. I’m sorry, Nees. It’s just…”

“Things are hard. I get it. What do I feed her?” She kicks off her heels, drops her purse to the floor, and makes her way back over to my wife.

I let out a rush of relieved breath. “She’s tube fed. And, I’ll call another nurse from the agency. They’re only to perform the necessities; feeding, bathing, taking care of her colostomy bag, replacing her catheters, shit like that. But, I need you to keep an eye on them. Make sure they don’t hurt her or neglect her. That sort of thing. What I really need you to do, though, is be a companion to Chrissy. The nurses don’t give her the human touch and interaction she needs. She’s still my wife, goddammit, and if I didn’t have to work to provide a life and education for my son, I’d stay with her all day. But I can’t and she deserves more.”

“You have a son?” she asks as she picks up a frame from the bedside table.

“Damien. He’s nineteen and in college.”

She turns and flashes me a grin. “He’s cute. Looks like you.”

Once again, I’m annoyed at her innocent flirting. Half the time, I don’t even think she realizes that she does it. It bothers the hell out of me.

“Thanks,” I grumble. “I’ve already looked up your cell from your file. I’ll check in throughout the day. Please answer me when I text or call. Not knowing how she is drives me batshit crazy.”

“I forgot to charge my phone last night. It’s almost dead. You have an extra charger?”

My blood boils but I attempt to keep a lid on my anger. “Jesus, Nees! Can I trust you with her or not?”

She frowns. “I wasn’t exactly prepared for this job, Adrian. Cut me some slack. I promise I’ll look after her. Don’t you have a landline you could call today in case mine goes dead?”

I sigh and nod. “Yeah. God, I’m sorry.”

“Forget about it. Now, don’t you need to be somewhere in like twenty minutes? If Paul asks, tell him I retired and am now the proud owner of twelve cats.”

I stare at her, befuddled by her words but glance over at the clock. “Shit, I have to run. Answer the house phone and I’ll pass on your weird-ass message.”

She rewards me with a glowing grin that causes my abused heart to beat a little faster than usual. With a deep, cleansing breath, I turn from her and drop a soft kiss on Chrissy’s cool forehead.

“I love you, forever and always.”

The words don’t return. They never return.

The clock on the wall ticks slowly as it does every day. If I call now, I’ll seem like a fucking stalker. Yet, I can’t help but worry about whether or not Chrissy is okay in Neesy’s care. My fingertips thump the desk as I attempt to hold out another half hour. I can do this. I can trust the bizarre woman to look after my wife.

“Everything okay?”

I drag my gaze from the clock to see Eric standing in the doorway. He’s been my best friend since we were both freshmen in high school. I’ve known Eric since before there was Chrissy. Before there was Hocksted Holdings. Before Damien. And before the accident. He had my back during my first fist fight before I’d hit puberty back when he was the bigger of the two of us. Then, when we had the accident, he’d had my back by keeping me afloat during the most difficult time in my life. Eric is a brother to me.