For The Love of Easton (For the Love Of #2) - A.M. Hargrove Page 0,91
the way to the hospital, I picked up a huge bouquet of roses for English.
“Hey,” I said, entering the room. “These are for you.”
“Wow. Those are gorgeous. Thank you. You know something? You’re not so bad when you’re not being a butthole to me.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Can you sit?”
“I’m planning on it.” I set the flowers on the ledge near the window and then sat.
“Why did we get married when I really don’t like you?”
“By the time we got married, you’d changed your mind.”
“And there was no other reason?”
“Yes, there was. It revolved around your daughter and my family.”
“Will you tell me?”
“Let’s begin with the part about Easton, your daughter. Does the name Stuart McLure sound familiar?”
She squinted and said, “Yeah. Old high-school boyfriend. No, wait, college too.”
“That’s it?”
Massaging her eyes, she said, “Something’s nagging at me but I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Should I tell you or not? Up to you.”
“You can tell me. Maybe it’ll trigger something.”
“Before I go and tell you everything, let me check to see if it’s okay. With the doctor, that is.”
I went to the nurse’s station, which was located out in the center of the grouping of rooms and checked. She said they dealt with it all the time and it was fine.
“Got the okay,” I said as I sat down again. “So, you and Stuart were together during the first two years in college until you got pregnant. He wasn’t too nice to you and you broke up with him after. You had your daughter, Easton, after you moved back home.” I continued to explain the story of Easton, us, and the McLures, bringing her up to the present.
She squeezed her eyes shut as her hand touched her throat. In a quivering voice, she said, “I remember getting choked.”
I touched her arm and she flinched. My shoulders drooped at her show of fear. “English, I will never ever lay a hand on you. You don’t ever have to fear my touch.”
I watched the tension ebb out of her, but it was still distressing to see the memory of what Stuart’s actions did.
“He choked me and… you! You came in and saved me. You beat him up!”
“I’m not proud of beating someone, but I am of knocking the lights out of him. No man should ever lay hands on a woman.”
“Thank you.”
“No need. It’s water under the bridge.”
“For you maybe. But for me, it’s like it just happened. Did he go to jail?”
Nodding, I added, “Not once, but twice and he’s still there. He violated an order of protection.”
“What did he want from me?”
“So here is where it gets sticky.” I explained about Easton, and how they wanted custodial rights. “And that brings me to our marriage and how we ended up in Vegas and proceeding with me adopting her.”
“You would do that?” Her hand reached out for mine.
“English, I love you.” There, it was out in the open now. I wasn’t going to hide it from her or anyone. “I love Easton too. I want you and her as my—our—family.” My heart bumped in my chest, banging a tune against my ribs. I prayed she didn’t send me away, but accepted my love instead.
She eyed her hands, which were gripping the bedsheet. “I can’t say it back yet.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to. I just wanted you to know, since you asked.”
She glanced up at me through her long spiky lashes. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Of course.”
“Was the sex good?”
A mighty laugh leapt out of me. Of all the things, I hadn’t anticipated this. “The very best.”
She looked up. “For me too?”
“You screamed my name. A lot.”
“I did?” She was shocked and I was sad she didn’t remember that part. But I’d get that back.
“Uh-huh. I can show you when you’re released.” I smirked.
“I bet you can.”
“I gave you this special toy—”
“Oh, my God! I remember that!”
For fuck’s sake. She remembered the damn toy and not me. Talk about an ego-buster.
“Don’t look so deflated. I’m sure I remember it because of how you wielded it.” She acted like the thing was in her hand.
“Mmm. Okay, I’ll take that, but you’re handling it more like a sword.”
“Maybe it’s because of…” Her eyes went straight to my crotch. Well, damn, I hadn’t expected that at all.
“There is something else I’d like to ask. Do you remember anything at all about the accident? Like where it happened?”