16. Francisca
CHAPTER 16
Francisca
C urled up in the reclining hospital chair next to my dad’s bed, I study the steady beat of his heart on one of the many monitors he’s hooked up to.
It’s been a little over seventy-two hours since he was rushed in for open-heart surgery after suffering a major heart attack—a heart attack the doctors said would have killed him if Mom hadn’t been insistent on calling an ambulance and getting him help as soon as she did.
The first forty-eight hours after his surgery were touch and go, but he’s improved a lot over the last twenty-four hours, giving us all some relief and a much-needed dose of hope.
Taking my eyes off the monitor, I look over at my dad and breathe through the ache in my chest. Since I was a little girl, he’s always seemed untouchable, so seeing him so fragile while realizing that he’s just a normal man who is susceptible to the same ailments as everyone else has been a hard pill to swallow.
Hearing the door open, I watch my mom come around the side of the curtain and force a smile for her. She looks as exhausted as I feel. Then again, none of us have gotten much sleep the last few days, even with the two of us taking turns staying here with Dad ever since he was moved out of the ICU.
“How’s he doing?” Mom asks quietly, walking around the side of the bed and picking up Dad’s hand.
“Good. He woke up for a while early this morning, and the nurse was in about an hour ago and said that everything looked great,” I tell her carefully, sitting up. “Did you get some sleep?”
“A little.”
“Where’s Jacob?” I ask, and she gives me a forced smile.
“I told him to stay behind and get some more sleep.”
“That’s good.” It’s a toss-up who I’m more worried about—my dad, who is obviously recovering from major surgery, or my brother, who has turned into a zombie since Dad was put in the hospital. I’m just hoping Jacob snaps out of it when he sees that Dad is going to be okay.
“Where is Dayton?”
“I made him leave about two hours ago,” I tell her, and she frowns. “He has a big case he’s working on, and he’s put off a few meetings to be here with me. I told him that I would be okay for a few hours without him.”
“And he believed you?” I smile at that, obviously. Dayton has been a permanent fixture, and he’s made it clear to not only me but my family that he’s not going anywhere. Even when we haven’t been here at the hospital, he’s been at my side—or I’ve been at his—since during the few breaks we got, the two of us have slept at his place in his bed together.
“I didn’t give him much of a choice, and I told him that you were coming, so I wouldn’t be alone for long.”
“I like him.”
“Me too,” I say quietly. Getting up, I fold up the blanket I was using and toss it over the back of the chair, then start to stretch out my back.
“How did you sleep?”
“Surprisingly okay.” And I do mean, surprisingly, since Dayton and I both slept in the single recliner last night. I doubt he feels the same as me since I was using him as a bed and a pillow, but he didn’t complain. Then again, he never complains unless it’s about me not eating or sleeping.
“You should go home and shower sweetheart, maybe take a nap.”
“I think I’m going to; I also need to check on PJ.” Clay went and got him the day Dad had his surgery, and he’s been staying with him and Willow when Dayton and I have been at the hospital. I know from the pictures and videos that Willow sends me that he’s had the best time with Skye and Rowen, who keep him busy, but I miss him like crazy. “I’ll come back this afternoon. The nurse mentioned that the doctor wanted to talk to you about Dad’s release plan.”
“Release plan?”
“I guess that they are planning on sending him home soon.”
“He just had major surgery. He’s barely sitting up and hardly awake for more than a few minutes.”
“I doubt it’s going to be something that happens today, but I think they want you to be prepared for when it does.”
“I guess.” She agrees, looking unsure.
“It will be okay; we can set up the downstairs bedroom so that you and he can stay in there and hire a nurse to come in and help out so that you don’t feel overwhelmed.”
“You’re so smart.” She says quietly.
Stepping up to the side of Dad’s bed, I bend over to kiss his cheek before I walk around and hug Mom.
“I’ll be back, and if the doctor comes in before I get here, just call me.”
“Thanks, honey.”
“You’re welcome.” I give her another tight hug, then let her go.
“Do you have your car?” she asks as I grab my purse.
“No, but I can just get an Uber.”
“Take my car.” She picks up her bag and starts digging through it.
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I take the set of car keys she hands me and listen to her tell me where she parked before I leave the room.
When I get to the parking garage, it doesn’t take me very long to find Mom’s bright-red convertible. She bought it as a gift to herself when Jacob graduated high school, and she no longer needed a large SUV to haul him and all his sports equipment around in. Getting behind the wheel, I type Dayton a message letting him know that I’m going home. Almost immediately, he responds with a message telling me to check in when I get there and that he should be done with his meetings by three, so he will meet me back at the hospital. I almost message him back that he should just go home after work, but I know he’d ignore me and show up anyway.
If there’s one thing this situation has taught me, it’s that Dayton doesn’t put work before the people in his life that he considers important. It’s a quality that I appreciate more than he could possibly understand. We’ve never really talked about how Matthew’s job consumed our life or how I felt like an afterthought most days. I know for certain that Matthew would not have taken time off from work to just sit with me in the hospital. He would have said the doctors and nurses could handle it, leaving me feeling crazy for even wanting him to be there.
After messaging Willow to let her know that I’m on the way, I place my cell in the cup holder and leave the parking garage. As usual, traffic is heavy, so it takes forever to get across town. Then it takes me even longer to find a place to park when I reach my block.
Grabbing my purse from the passenger seat, I push open the door and start to get out but stop when I feel an ache begin in my lower abdomen. It’s similar to when I have my period, and the feeling catches me by surprise. I haven’t had any cramping since I got pregnant, and I’m not sure if it’s normal.
“You okay?”
Looking up, I find Tucker just a few feet away, and get out with my purse, closing the door. “I think so.”
“You think so?” he asks, studying me through the dark sunglasses he has on.
“Yeah, it’s just some light cramping.” I laugh, but he doesn’t laugh along with me. Instead, his expression becomes one of concern, which freaks me out—especially since he has a wife who recently had a baby, so he likely knows what’s normal and what’s not.
“On a scale of one to ten, how bad are the cramps?”
“I don’t know... a two, maybe three,” I whisper.
With an upward nudge of his chin, we step up onto the sidewalk. “You’re what, thirteen weeks along now, right?”
“Yes.”
“Miranda had the same thing around that time. They said it’s just the baby growing.” My shoulders sag in relief. “You still might want to call your doctor to let ’em know what’s going on.” He holds open the door to the building for me to enter before him.
“I’ll do that.”
“Where are you going?” he asks after we both step onto the elevator.
“Clay and Willow’s. I’m just going to pick up PJ to hang out with me for a bit, and then I’ll drop him off again before I head back to the hospital.”
“How’s your dad doing? Dayton’s been keeping us updated but hasn’t checked in today.”
“It’s going to be a long recovery, but I think he’s going to be okay.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“Me too,” I reply softly as the doors open for his floor, and he steps out of the elevator.
“Let us know if you need anything.”
“I will. Thanks, Tucker, and tell everyone I say hi.” I give him a wave as the doors close, then step off the elevator on Clay and Willow’s floor.
After knocking softly, Willow answers the door and smiles before she wraps me in a hug and whispers, “Hey, how are you doing?”
“Okay.” I hug her tight, then let her go to pick up PJ, who is jumping up to greet me. “I missed you too, buddy.” I smile as he licks my jaw and then focus on Willow. “I really appreciate you looking after him for me.”
“Are you kidding? He is the best dog.” She smiles, closing the door. “I told Clay I want to get a Havanese when Rowen is a little older, and the only reason I want to put it off is because we are going to start potty training soon, and I don’t think I can handle a kid and a puppy peeing everywhere.” She laughs, and I laugh along with her.
“That’s probably smart. It took about four months for PJ to catch on to going outside, and all the accidents before that were exhausting.”
“I bet.” Her eyes move to my stomach. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired, but I think that’s just from not getting much sleep the last few days.”
“Keep lying to yourself. Being pregnant is exhausting; I would fall asleep anywhere and everywhere.”
“You could have fibbed and told me it gets better.”
“It does when the baby gets here, and your partner can take over. Right now, you’re doing all the work.” She tips her head to the side. “Speaking of partners, where is Dayton?”
“At work. He’s meeting me at the hospital when he gets off.”
“Are you two still lying to yourselves about just being friends?” she questions with a smirk.
“No, we’re figuring it out.”
“Good. That makes me happy.”
It makes me happy too, which is scary—but not as scary as the idea of never seeing if things might work out between me and him.
“Your dad… is he okay?” she asks.
“Better.” I put PJ down. “I think they might release him soon.”
Her head jerks back in surprise. “Already?”
“I’m not sure. The doctor is supposed to talk to Mom this afternoon. I think we’ll know more after that.”
“Well, if you need anything, you know we’re right here.”
My throat gets tight at her sincerity. “Thank you.”
“That’s what family’s for.” She reaches out to rub my arm, and my nose starts to sting as my eyes start to water.
“Thanks,” I whisper, and she smiles.
“Those pregnancy hormones are a bitch.”
“Yeah, they are.” I laugh, wiping away the tears overflowing my eyes.
“All right.” She laughs. “Go shower, and I’ll see you when you bring PJ back.”
“Thanks, Willow.”
“Any time.” She opens the door, and I leave with PJ on my heels.
When I get downstairs to my apartment, I don’t waste a second getting in the shower, and I spend a long time under the hot spray, just letting the water wash away the past few days.
After I get out, I put on my underwear and reach for my robe but pause when my eyes catch on my reflection in the full-length mirror behind the bathroom door. Turning to the side, I swallow over the lump in my throat. I don’t know when the last time that I really looked at myself naked was, but doing so now, I can make out the roundness of my belly that’s never been there before.
“Hey, you.” I slide my hand over the slight bump and then burst into tears. Of course, I’ve known for quite some time now that I’m pregnant—the test, ultrasound, and heartbeat all made that abundantly clear—but having the physical evidence of the child growing under my palm feels different.
Jumping when there is a loud knock on my interior door, I quickly grab my robe and slip it on before I rush out of the bathroom. Reaching for the knob, I swing the door open and blink up at Dayton.
“Why are you crying?”
“What are you doing here?” I ask at the same time.
“I got a call from Tucker telling me that you had cramps. I tried to call, but when you didn’t answer, I decided to come home.” He carefully backs me inside and shuts the door. “Are you okay?”
My eyes slide closed. I should have known Tucker would call him and that he would rush home to make sure I was okay because he’s the kind of guy to show up even when he’s not expected or asked to.
“Sorry, I was in the shower.” A fresh wave of tears fills my eyes. “I don’t have cramps anymore. Actually, I forgot that I even had them to begin with.”
“So why are you crying?” He pulls me into his arms, palming the back of my head while his hand smooths down my back. “Is your dad okay?”
“He’s fine. I’m just being emotional.” I press my face against his suit jacket and choke on a sob.
“You’re scaring me, Franny. What’s going on?”
“I’m pregnant,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes closed.
“We already knew that, baby.”
“No, I can see that I’m pregnant!”
“What do you mean?” He uses his fingers under my chin to force me to look up at him.
Swallowing, I step out of his hold and open the bottom half of my robe as he watches, then turn to the side and slide my hand over my stomach.
“Holy shit,” he whispers, his eyes flying up to meet mine.
“I know.” I sniffle. “I don’t even know when this happened.”
Stepping toward me, he drops to his knees at my feet, and I feel the warmth of his hands on my stomach before his lips press softly against my skin.
“Fuck.” He tips his head back. “It’s so fucking crazy to think that just weeks ago, we were strangers, and now you’ve become the most important person in my life.”
The vulnerability of those words and the adoration I see in his gaze when he looks up at me make it difficult to breathe. I’ve been in love before, and it scares me to think that I’m already halfway in love with him.
Even if that emotion shouldn’t be possible so soon—even if it would be smart to protect myself—I know it’s already too late. He snuck under my defenses when I wasn’t paying attention and wrapped himself around my heart.
But I guess that’s love, right?
It’s one emotion we have zero control over. We can’t predict when it will happen to us or even guard ourselves against it when it does.
Sliding my fingers into his hair, I lean down and press my mouth against his, and he wraps his hand around the back of my neck, tugging me closer to deepen the kiss. He tastes like home, and it’s so strange to think that after such a short period of time. But as I breathe him in, I know this is where I belong. Moving my hands downward, I slide his suit jacket from his shoulders and start working on the buttons of his shirt as his hand smooths up my thigh.
“I’m not fucking you on the floor, Franny,” he groans against my mouth, and I whimper in despair. Somehow, he maneuvers us both to our feet, and once I’m standing, he lifts me off the ground. Wrapping my legs around his waist, I drop my mouth back down to his as he carries me to my bed. With a knee on the mattress, he lays me on my back, and his weight settles between my legs as he looks down at me. “So fucking pretty.”
“Dayton,” I breathe his name and latch onto him when he starts to lean back.
Kissing me deep while grasping my wrists, he drags my arms up over my head and grins against my mouth when I whimper again as he pulls his mouth from mine. “Give me a sec, baby.”
His lips brush softly against mine before he gets up and takes off his shirt, leaving him in just his pants with his fancy belt and the watch around his wrist. His eyes devour me as I watch him undo his belt, and I press my thighs together to ease the ache between my legs when he takes off his pants and boxers. It’s difficult to breathe and hard not to squirm under his stare as I take in his wide chest, defined abs, the deep V of his waist, and the trail of hair that leads down to his cock.
He’s so beautiful—the most beautiful man I have ever seen in my life—and it’s not just because he’s devastatingly handsome. His beauty is more than skin deep, and every day, the painting I’m working on of him in my head becomes a little clearer.
Grasping my ankles, he drags me down the bed. I swear I might come out of my skin when he drops to his knees in front of me. Letting my ankles go, he grabs the tie to my robe and slips it free from its knot, then spreads it open before sliding his hand up my stomach to cup my breast. My nipples are so sensitive that my body jolts, and my hips come up off the mattress.
“You okay?” he whispers.
“Yes.” I grab onto the bedding at my sides as he slides his hands from my breast down my stomach to the edge of my underwear, tugging them over my hips and slipping them off of me.
“You know...” His eyes meet mine as he lifts my feet to his shoulders. “I’ve spent a whole lot of sleepless nights thinking about what you might taste like.” His fingers slip through my slick folds in a barely-there touch, and my body shakes with anticipation. “Have you thought about what it might be like to have my mouth between your legs?”
“Yes.”
The truth is, I’ve gotten myself off more than once imagining a moment just like this: his wide shoulders holding my thighs apart, the feel of his hands, how his words would send me over the edge just like they did the night we were together. I’ve even replayed that night over and over again in my mind—only, when I do, he never leaves.
His fingers part my slick folds, and his gaze finds mine for a moment before the heat of his mouth covers my pussy, and then his tongue flicks over my clit. I squeeze my eyes closed and press my head back into the pillow while lifting my hips to get closer, only to try and pull back when he wraps his lips around my clit and sucks, sending a shockwave through my system.
“Oh my God!” I cry out, coming apart in an instant, my body shaking along with my thighs. I wasn’t expecting to orgasm so quickly—then again, I’ve been living on a knife’s edge for weeks, anticipating this moment even when I didn’t think it would ever happen. Instead of letting me come down slowly from the high, he slides two fingers inside me and flicks his tongue over my clit, hurling me right into another orgasm that causes my breath to catch and lights to dance behind my closed eyelids.
Breathing heavily, I feel his lips on my inner thigh right before he takes my feet off his shoulders and stands, wrapping my legs around his hips. Leaning over me, his mouth takes mine as he slides the head of his cock through my wetness, then slowly starts to slip inside me. I forgot how thick he is, forgot the twitch of pain there was the last time he was inside me, but just like before, I relish it. When he bottoms out, he pulls his head back and looks me in the eye.
I want to cry again, because I know what I’m seeing in his gaze, even if he doesn’t know what he’s feeling. He’s just as lost in me as I am in him.
“Are you okay?” he asks, dropping his forehead to mine, and I nod as I attempt to swallow down the tears I feel burning the back of my throat. “I’m gonna move.”
“Okay.” I lift my legs higher around his waist and wrap my hands around his biceps, feeling his muscles bunch under my palms as he starts to fuck me slowly. It’s not wild or messy like the first time we were together; it’s slow and gentle, his mouth taking mine before peppering kisses down my throat to my breast.
The buildup to my orgasm—and his—is gradual as he makes love to me, and when we both finish, we are nothing but two bodies that have become one. Sated and completely exhausted, I curl against his side with my head on his chest and know I was right earlier: this is home.
He is my home.