Chapter 14
Chapter
Vivian
“I shouldn’t be in Houston.” I fidgeted in the back of the rideshare, staring out at the massive sprawl and thousands of cars on the huge highway.
I’d been at a low point the day before Lola Cruz had called me that first time two weeks ago. Over the span of the previous week, five of my patients had passed away, an alarming number, and I’d gone on a disastrous date with Dr. Dewan Kapoor. The man was kind, thoughtful, respectful of my limits—everything I should want in a partner. Yet the evening had been an epic bust that ended with me rage-eating an entire bag of caramel corn. Dewan wasn’t Lennon. Full stop.
I hated that I couldn’t get over him. I remained stalled, stuck in this stupid spot where my heart continued to yearn but my mind knew the relationship was over.
“Why not?” the driver asked, looking up at me in the rearview mirror.
I sighed. “It’s complicated.”
Perhaps that’s why I hadn’t been immune to the appeal from his mother. Perhaps. More, though, she reminded me of my mother, and because I was in a place where I needed guidance and love, I’d been more than happy to respond to the text she sent me the evening after that first call, then again the next morning, that afternoon, that evening, the next day and the next… We’d fallen into a pattern of communicating, and I’d mentioned that my mother’s family was from Oaxaca.
Lola had then told me stories from her trip there in her teens. She’d told me about meeting Lennon’s father, a traveling musician who had become a truck driver to support her and their oldest child, Ruben. They’d had Lennon and his two sisters nearly ten years later. She told me about losing her husband, then Ruben, and how that had affected young Lennon. She told me how she’ d had to work as a waitress, slowly moving up to better and better restaurants, until she now ran front-of-house in one of the nicest restaurants in the city.
Hers was a tale I understood, one that Lennon shared—perseverance, hard work, dogged determination to reach goals. I respected that story; I’d lived that story.
Lola told me how Lennon didn’t understand health benefits and hadn’t ever asked about her salary. He sent her an allowance, and Lola was a saver, especially now that her kids were out of the house, which was why she could hire me as a private nurse. That and because she had a grant. I was pretty sure that meant someone on Lennon’s hockey team knew about her diagnosis and was helping her pay my salary.
I’d suggested I take less, but Lola wouldn’t hear of that. She’d mentioned my Kryptonite—my own fault—that I’d only have to work with and for her, not a slew of other people, too.
“Romance involved?” the driver asked.
“I’d like to think so.”
“That’s why I’m here,” he said. “I found the love of my life on a dating website.”
I smiled. “That’s great.”
“It was. Until she left me for an oilman last month.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. Houston’s huge and hot and has its problems, but it’s also a pretty great place to live.” He started listing the places he liked to go, and my mind drifted back to Lola—and how I’d ended up in the backseat of this car.
She’d sent me recipes to try from the Yucatan, where she’d grown up. We talked about my mother’s hot chocolate and Lola’s version. I’d tried them both, loved them both, and felt as if my mother were there giving me a hug.
All of which was why I’d followed through on this crazy plan and now said to the Uber driver, “Thanks for the ride.”
“Anytime. Hit up the aquarium!”
I stepped out into the late afternoon and immediately felt like I was melting. It was February, for goodness’ sake, yet I was hot, sticky mess. How did people handle this heat and humidity? Why would they want to?
I tugged my suitcase up the walkway of Lola Cruz’s small, neat house not far from the city’s secondary downtown. At least it didn’t seem that far, but I had looked at a map of Houston and nearly choked. Talk about sprawl…
The thoughts I’d kept at bay as I’d packed and traveled now hammered at my mind: Lennon might not know I’m coming. Lennon might not want me here. This will do nothing for my ability to move on. Am I just going to be torturing myself?
What have I done?
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and pulled up the mental map I’d created of Houston. For whatever reason, maps and interesting facts tended to calm my mind. Hana said they gave me something to latch on to besides my spiraling anxiety. She was probably right.
The city ballooned and zigzagged all over the place, seemingly without end. There were two—two!—loops around the metropolis, connecting various highways and neighborhoods. And the place had a main downtown, but also a secondary one called the Galleria, where there was a big mall and lots of oil and gas companies, as well as restaurants, clubs, wine bars, pubs, jewelry shops, and just about everything else you could think of.
Okay. So Houston was big enough to hold both Lennon and me, should I decide to stay. And it had some of the best cancer hospitals in the nation, should I need to get another position.
Everything would be fine. As my mother used to say, these were obstacles, not Mount Everest. With a resolute nod, I opened my eyes and rolled my case up onto the little stoop, where it caught on the step, and I smashed my big toe. Pain radiated upward as I winced. “Ouch!”
I was a mess. A hot mess, which was the very thing I’d tried so hard to outrun since the night of the attack. I’d worked hard—really, really hard—to move beyond my panic about being alone outside. And about blood.
I was a nurse, so getting over the sight of blood had been accomplished through continued exposure. The first couple of months back on the job had been rougher than during my school years, which had been hard enough.
Clearly, that night in Michigan had left indelible scars on my psyche—just as it had Lennon’s. That was part of why I hadn’t simply called him or just shown up, like I’d dreamed about for weeks after.
My nose stung, and I sniffled as I thought about Lennon’s gentleness with me before the attack. How I missed him.
I wasn’t ready to cut the final tie, but I had to be prepared. We’d diverged on our paths because of our shared trauma. I couldn’t force him to look at me the same way—to not see the woman who’d been part of the assault, the catalyst for his wounds. Just as he couldn’t force the nightmares or squeamishness from my mind.
Coming to Houston was a mistake , my mind suddenly blared. I was smart enough to admit it, and woman enough to own it. But there was nothing I could do to change it. I’d made a commitment. I was a nurse.
“Pull it together, Vivian. This isn’t like you,” I murmured. “You’re stronger than this.” I rubbed three fingers over the space between my eyebrows, desperate for relief from the tension headache building in my skull.
Then I heard the front door open. “Vivi? What…what are—why are you… How ?”
My head shot up. Lennon’s voice, all rich cream and smooth chocolate, flowed over my eardrums, making me want to purr. I adored his voice, had from the beginning. My gaze swept up to meet his, and I was shocked to see how much thicker and wilder his beard had become, probably an additional three inches stuck out from his face. His lips had all but disappeared into the mass. His eyes, though, were the same. Warm, focused on me, and filled with some of the off-kilter confusion I was experiencing.
“H-hi, Lennon.” My voice was too high and thin. I swallowed, trying to get better control of myself. “It’s been a while.”
He continued to stare with an intensity that disconcerted me. “I…I just found out you were coming.”
I dropped my gaze, no longer able to bear the weight of his. “Your mother invited me.”
“Ah. Yes. Well, um, hi. Welcome.” He said the word lamely with a slight wave.
Oh, this was worse than awkward. Maybe I’d melt into a puddle and disappear forever. “Why are you here?” I asked. I glanced around, still waiting for Lola to pop out from behind Lennon. “Where’s Lola?”
“Out—at my sister’s place.”
My mouth dropped open. “What? No!” My voice dipped. “She’s supposed to be here…”
“She said she had to step out, asked me to come by and take the enchiladas out of the oven. Sounded like an emergency when she called a couple of hours ago.” His voice told me he now had doubts about that.
I clenched my fists. This setup wasn’t right . Or fair. I hadn’t prepared myself to see Lennon, and clearly he wasn’t ready to see me.
“Hang on.” I pulled out my phone. I noted with irritation that I’d left it in airplane mode and now switched it over. Almost immediately, text messages popped up, the pings so rapid that they made one continual chime. Six from Lola.
Okay, well, I guess I couldn’t be mad. She’d tried to warn me.
“I clearly didn’t get the messages in time.”
A petite German shepherd padded up next to Lennon, her dark fur a stark contrast to her sherry-colored eyes. She sat at his foot, her tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth, ears perked forward as she studied me.
“Oh, you’re pretty,” I breathed. My gaze sought Lennon’s. “Belladonna?”
At his nod, I dropped my gaze back to the dog. “Hi, pretty girl. Hi,” I cooed. “Aren’t you gorgeous.”
Belladonna glanced up at Lennon, who said, “Go ahead.”
The German shepherd seemed to grin even bigger as she rose and stepped forward, sniffing my outstretched hand before pushing her head against my palm and resettling herself against my leg. I laughed, charmed by her clear affection as I petted her ears. Lennon made a choking sound that caused me to look up at him—though I didn’t stop petting the dog.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Does my petting her bother you?”
He studied me, starting at the top of my head and working down my neck to my torso. I gulped, holding my breath as his gaze progressed with leisurely thoroughness to my toes before he met my eyes once more. “No. Not at all. Belladonna has great taste in people.”
I frowned. “What?”
“She likes you. You don’t know how unusual her greeting is, but I do. She knew from the moment she saw you that you were special. Just like I did.”
I scowled as confusion muddled my thoughts. “I don’t understand. You can’t have thought I was that special. I mean, I haven’t talked to you in months .”
Lennon’s expression softened, and he no longer looked like an angry lumberjack. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, Vivi.”
He smiled, his beard lifted, and the skin around his eyes crinkled. He was just so…virile. Embarrassing as it was, I’d watched all of his games this season and become something of a Lennon Cruz expert. I could list his stats with the most ardent fan.
I now knew he was a multi-year veteran of the NHL, having been called up for the playoffs during his second year in the minors. His performance as the enforcer during a series against the Avalanche had sealed his position on the Wildcatters, making him a mainstay for the franchise. And I knew he was thirty-two years old.
“Uhhhh…” I shuddered, unhappy with my current inability to speak, but every part of me froze as I soaked him in.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” he offered, opening the door wider so I could step over the threshold and into the large foyer.
“Y-you are?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve been trying to figure out how best to reach out. I mean, I knew you were coming, just not when or where. I was going to call you…” He swallowed audibly.
Was he nervous ?
“I’m sorry I didn’t know you’d be here,” he continued. “I would have picked you up from the airport and taken you out for dinner.”
“You never asked me to come,” I blurted, now rooted to the spot just inside the doorway. I’d stopped petting the dog, and she nuzzled my hand, giving my wrist a quick lick.
He looked chagrinned. “Would you believe me if I told you I wanted to? I thought about it every day.”
Finally, those words jolted me back to fully—fine, partially—functional. “That’s not the impression I got. You could have called, or we could have video-chatted. You could have given me some inkling of how you felt…”
“I thought I was doing the right thing, but I’ve come to regret even more my decision to not talk to you. God, I’ve missed you, Vivi.” He peered down at me, making me blush, even as my stomach did a slow, lazy flip. “I want to explain it all. I promise.”
Lennon Cruz was potent. I licked my lips. His eyes flared as he followed the track of my tongue, which meant I slowed down, further heightening the sensation.
He leaned in closer. I held my breath. Would he…? I’d missed him, missed that soft, supple mouth. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t just kiss me now…would he?
“Vivi…?”
“Yeah?”
“Hold really still.”
“O-okay.” My chest heaved as my nipples perked up. Lennon Cruz is going to kiss me —just as I’d dreamed about for more than six months. He wanted me just as much as I wanted him.
“You have a palmetto bug in your hair,” he said, reaching up just as I caught a glimpse of a dark shape near my ear.
“Wh-what’s that?” I whispered, trying to cover my disappointment.
“A flying cockroach,” Lennon said with a grimace.
My reaction was instantaneous. I shrieked and flailed. Belladonna barked and bounded around me, probably looking for a physical threat.
“I told you to hold still,” he said, darting past the dog.
“Get it off! Get it off of me,” I squealed, hopping from one foot to another like a two year old about to pee her pants.
“I’m trying. Dammit, Vivi, I can’t get it with you jumping around?—”
“There’s a roach in my hair, Lennon. No woman is going to stand still when a cockroach is on her. It’s physically impossible.”
I nearly tripped over the German shepherd, but instead fell against Lennon’s chest. He tugged the insect from my hair—along with a few strands that popped from my scalp—whipped open the door, and threw it out into the yard. I backed away as it flew through the air. Thankfully, away from me.
I slammed my hand to my chest and dropped the other one to my knee, heaving for breath. Belladonna quit barking and settled close to me, a faint whine in her throat.
“Well, that was gross,” he said.
“Oh my Goooooo—I can’t. I just can’t be here .” I gagged, shuddered, then gagged again.
Lennon placed a warm hand— please don’t let it be the cockroach hand! —on my shoulder. “It’s over now, Vivi. You survived.”
“Are you laughing at me?” I gasped.
“Never. I don’t like those things either.”
He waited, patient and strong and sure, until I gathered myself. When I finally straightened, he smiled at me, his beard shifting so his lips and teeth showed through the thick mass.
“You got the best of the welcoming committee,” he said.
“Oh! You jerk!”
“Come on, you can do better than that. And I meant my dog, not the insect from hell.”
“The fact that such a horror exists is not okay,” I muttered.
He tossed his head back and guffawed. The afternoon light cast most of his face in relief, and I was struck by the strong nose and tailored browbone. His dark hair was thick and lay neatly against his skull, giving him a sleek appearance. My gaze slid back to his beard. I’d bet he let it grow to cover his scars.
He was beautiful in a distinctly masculine sense, and I stared, mesmerized. Lennon was my sweetest drug and ten times more powerful than any hit a dealer could offer me.
“Come on in. Please.”
“I should. I don’t want another one of those horrors to touch me.” My voice sounded normal, which was amazing considering a shiver worked its way up my spine, causing my hair to stand on end.
“Yeah. It’s a million degrees, and the mosquitoes are already gnawing on you,” he said, closing the door.
“They love me,” I muttered. At least something did.
No, that wasn’t fair, and I knew it. My mother had loved me dearly. Lola had fast become a dear friend. And Hana was now married to one of Lennon’s teammates. Hana and Paxton—I’d never call him Naese like the rest of the world did because Hana had introduced him to me as Paxton—were head over heels in love. She’d never shone so brightly, and I was a jealous hag who wanted that level of commitment and caring with my partner.
I was maudlin today—maybe because I was back in Lennon’s proximity, and he seemed much less affected by my presence than I was by his. Suddenly, it just all seemed too much. “You know what? I’m not sure this is a good idea. I think I should go back to the airport and go home.”
Cruz stood so still, he seemed to be carved from marble. His warm brown eyes searched my face. He tucked his chin toward his chest as his beard shifted. “Is that what you want, Vivi?” he asked softly. His eyes held a pain and yearning I didn’t fully grasp but could feel, deep in my chest and gut.