Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
T he next day Aiden returned to work. That had been Erica’s idea, for them to take a couple of days off now. And later, after they were unpacked and acclimated to the house and each other, to take a delayed honeymoon. Aiden supposed it should have been a sign that she would rather spend her first few days of married life bonding with the house than him, but hindsight and all that. Now he wasn’t certain if he was thankful or aggrieved to return to work so soon.
On the one hand, he needed the distraction. The nature of his job meant the next distraction always lay behind a curtain. But the hospital was a den of gossip on a normal day. He knew word of the marriage mix-up would have reached his place of work by now, and he was correct. As soon as he entered and headed for the staff room, he felt the eyes and whispers of absolutely everyone. He resorted to a trick he hadn’t used since he was a teen, pulling out his phone and pretending to be absorbed in something.
The next night was a full moon, which meant it would probably be crazy busy. But only, apparently, in a perfect world. In Aiden’s world, the one where nothing seemed to go right, it was almost supernaturally calm and dead, giving the remaining staff more time to gawk at him and whisper.
Part of him wondered if he should address the elephant in the room, make an announcement and get it over with. But before he could find an answer, she presented herself. June arrived in a pretty pink swing dress, hair up, makeup perfectly arranged, with a picnic basket draped over one arm. She looked for all the world like the ubiquitous fifties housewife, and Aiden knew down to his marrow it was for his benefit, so people would see her and understand that, for better or worse, they were really and truly married. Let the haters say what they would, no one could question Aiden’s sanity while June stood in the hallway, lighting it with her presence. In fact he couldn’t say anything, either. He came to a sudden halt, speechless with wonder over this angelic creature. And she was his wife . Have mercy.
“I brought supper,” she said tentatively, probably disturbed by his unnatural silence. Come to think of it, so was he. Words, what were the words he was supposed to say? What could anyone say when someone so temptingly out of reach stood nearby?
“Supper good,” was what he came up with.
June giggled at his idiocy, and he relaxed, smiling as he finally stepped forward to relieve her of the basket while leaning down to bestow a kiss. June kissed him back, standing on her toes to give a quick press of affection. Even that small act almost did Aiden in. Only the fact that it was his place of work kept him from tossing aside the basket and sweeping June into his crushing embrace.
“This is adorable,” he blurted. He meant, of course, that she was adorable, and thoughtful, and kind, and possibly an angel. He hadn’t yet decided.
“Worth it to see you in your cute little scrubs,” she said, giving them a tug.
“Really? Scrubs are what you’re into? Because I could make some calls, wear nothing else at all times,” he offered.
“So far I seem to like you in everything, so let’s hold off on that,” June said, preceding him into the break room while he held the door open. Aiden stopped short again, staring after her. Did she mean that, or had she said it for the benefit of their eavesdroppers? Did June actually find him attractive? Not that it was possible for her to reach his level of addled, but still. Even a fraction of that would be a lot.
June automatically began to tidy the break room table, wetting a cloth to wipe it down. “I don’t even want to think what might be on here,” she muttered. Then, realizing Aiden was staring at her, she froze. “Is it really okay that I’m here?”
“I think it might be the sweetest, cutest, best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Aiden said sincerely.
She smiled and tossed the used napkin in the trash. “We need to get you out more, Doctor Lawrence.”
“I’m serious, June. Seeing you is the amazing highlight of a very long day,” Aiden said, sighing as he set the picnic basket on the newly clean table.
“I’m sorry,” June said, rubbing his back in a comforting little circle. He wanted to take her in his arms and crush her lips with kisses. Instead he contented himself by giving her a side hug, briefly touching his head to hers.
“How was your day?” They were on opposing shifts for a while, June working daylight hours and Aiden working the evening. It stunk, and it went totally against his plan to ingratiate himself into her routine, overcoming her defenses through monotony.
“Okay,” June said slowly. Something in her tone alerted him.
“What?” He froze again. It was hard to think clearly when she was nearby, befuddling him with her beauty and perfection.
With her hip, she bumped him lightly out of the way and began unloading the basket. “It’s my dad and Denver. I had hoped the marriage would provide a little space, but they’re so…smothering. I know they love me, I get that, and I know they feel bad about the thing with Heath, but come on. I’m completely grown now and married . Married, Aiden.”
“I know, I was there,” he said, tweaking her hair.
“Would you mind telling them? Because they want it to be the same. They want to tell me every move to make while leaving no space for me to breathe.”
She was clearly venting, but Aiden took her at her word and added a new thing to his list. In addition to helping her overcome her phobia, if that was what they could call it, he would help her with her father and brother. Somehow, in some way, he would win June’s freedom, freedom from her body’s stress reaction to men, and freedom from her overbearing father and brother.
“We’ll figure it out,” he told her, giving her bicep a little squeeze. He meant it to be friendly and encouraging, but somehow it only increased his awareness and attraction to her. June looked willowy, but she had the lithe and muscled body of a dancer. Her bicep was taut and well-defined, probably more than his.
I need to start working out, he thought, as he took an absent bite of the sandwich she’d packed him. He’d seen a few of June’s dates, more than enough to realize she had a type and he wasn’t it. Without exception, they had all been meatheads, guys whose buff exteriors testified to hours spent at the gym or performing manual labor. Aiden hadn’t yet developed a Dad Bod, hadn’t yet succumbed to softness, but it was only a matter of time unless he made some changes. His lifestyle of working long shifts and grabbing food on the go had left little time for eating healthy and working out, an irony since those were two things he routinely prescribed to others.
“Has anyone said anything to your face?” June asked, causing him to release the hold on the gut he’d unconsciously been sucking in.
The air hissed out of him like the valve on his grandmother’s pressure cooker. “No, but I can tell what they’re thinking.”
“What are they thinking?” June asked, tipping her head to focus on him as she awaited his answer.
“That you are incredibly and completely out of my league,” he blurted the truth he’d been thinking before he could reconsider.
June puffed a laugh and waved her hand in front of her face. “Aiden, be serious.”
He set aside his plate and took her hands in his. “I am, June. I think you’re the most beautiful woman I have ever met.” For good measure, he kissed both her palms, smiling when she flushed.
“Oh, you,” she said, shaking her head.
“You don’t believe me,” he said, aghast.
“Erica was very pretty,” she said, sounding strangely affronted. For Erica, or for herself, because she thought he was feeding her a line?
“Erica was attractive ,” he said. “She was polished and put together, careful to always keep her hair, face, clothes, and nails perfectly arranged. But you…”
“Are not careful to keep myself perfectly arranged?” she guessed with a self-deprecating smile.
“You don’t need to. Erica was a hothouse flower, carefully grown and preserved. You are a wild rose, bursting onto the scene unexpected, taking everyone’s breath away with your vivid and unmistakable beauty.” He kissed her palm again.
June swallowed hard and glanced away. “Aiden,” she said, now sounding embarrassed. “I think you might be exaggerating a bit.”
He tugged her slightly closer so she was positioned between his knees. “Sweetest, loveliest, most beautiful wife, I am not,” he said, emphatic. Then, slowly as she watched, stood and lowered his head to hers.
“You promised to stop,” she reminded him, inserting her fingers between their lips, palm out.
He paused. “Addicts always promise to stop, June.” He tugged her hand down, brushing his lips on hers. If she resisted, if she backed away, he would stop. Instead she tipped forward with a little gasp, leaning into the kiss, leaning into him . It was impossible, that she might feel as desperate for him as he felt for her, but it seemed so when her left arm slid around his neck, curving him closer. The most amazing thing to Aiden, the mind boggling portion of the deal, was that she was his wife. How was this beautiful, perfect person suddenly his? It felt like winning a lottery he hadn’t even bought a ticket for.
“Oh,” June gasped, but it wasn’t the good kind of gasp, the kind Aiden felt, as if to say, I can’t believe this is happening, I can’t believe how amazing this feels. It was the sort of “oh” that alerted him as a person who dealt with emergencies on a daily basis.
When he eased back and opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was blood. Specifically, June’s hand, now covered with it.
“Oh.” This time he said it. Strangely, for someone who usually couldn’t care less about clothes in an emergency, he was cognizant of not staining her beautiful pink dress. Delicately, he took her hand and held it out to the side, over the sink, so he could make his inspection.
“I felt a little unstable, and I was trying to grip something,” June explained. How she managed to grab a sharp knife and slice the tender inside of her hand was anyone’s guess, but it was also a moot point now.
Aiden pressed the button on his lapel and asked Patricia, his favorite and most trusted nurse, to come to the break room.
She arrived a minute later, eyes blinking rapidly in question.
“Could you retrieve a suture kit for me, please?” Aiden asked, still holding June’s dripping hand over the sink.
Patricia, bless her, didn’t say a word, merely pressed her lips together and gave a solemn nod, disappearing the way she came.
The silence in the room was horrible, almost a living thing that sucked the air from the room.
“June,” Aiden said softly.
June pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Don’t,” she said brokenly. “Please don’t say anything.” Her eyes were dewy with repressed tears. He knew she was trying hard to hold it together and would respect her wishes, until he got her cleaned up.
Patricia returned in short order and assisted Aiden, opening the suture pack and handing him things as he worked on June’s hand. It required four stitches for the skin, but her tendons were still intact, thankfully. Patricia clucked a fuss, blaming their coworkers for leaving a sharp knife in the sink. Her outraged prattling helped ease some of the tension from the room. June didn’t say a word, but she managed a grim smile, her tears receding a little.
When the stitches were finished, Patricia gave June’s shoulder a squeeze. “Congratulations to you, June. I was so happy to hear about your, er, wedding to Dr. Lawrence here. I think you two go together perfectly, and I know you’ll be very happy together.” She gave them a warm smile to back up her words, encompassing them both. They thanked her and she disappeared, along with the trash Aiden knew she would dispose of somewhere else, somewhere hidden, so no one would know what happened to June’s hand.
He still held her hand gently between both of his. As soon as Patricia was safely gone, June let out a breath.
“June,” Aiden said.
“We can’t keep doing this, Aiden,” she said, and she sounded so broken. It shredded his insides.
“Doing what?” he asked. Was she reneging on their agreement?
“You can’t keep trying to kiss me, like I’m some normal girl. We both know I’m not.” Her eyes dared him to argue.
“I don’t want you to be normal. I like you exactly how you are,” he said softly, sincerely.
“Broken and bleeding? A menace to normal society?” she hissed.
“I’m a doctor, June. Broken and bleeding is sort of my specialty. And you are not a menace.”
“I am,” she stubbornly insisted. With a sniff, she withdrew her hand from his grasp, wincing when the stitches tugged.
He rested his hands on her shoulders, giving her a little shake. “Don’t say that.”
“I was trying to do something nice, to make it seem like this,” she paused and pointed between them, “was a good thing. Like maybe you didn’t make the biggest mistake of your life. And I can’t even get that right.”
“June, stop. Listen.” Aiden felt frantic, as if he had to make her hear him before she slipped away and disappeared. Even though his hands were on her shoulders, she felt like dissolving sand, flowing water he couldn’t hold onto. “This, our marriage, us , was not a mistake.”
“How can you say that, when I’m such a disaster that you can’t touch me without me falling apart?” June asked. One fat tear leaked out of her beautiful eye and rolled down her cheek.
“I’m touching you right now,” he pointed out.
“You know what I mean,” she said shakily. “I should never have involved you in this.”
“June, you are freaking out over nothing right now.”
“Nothing?” she said, holding her injured hand between them.
“I don’t care about that. I mean, I care because I don’t want to see you hurt, but I don’t maintain this belief that you’re cursed.”
“Then what do you call it when I can’t kiss my husband for fearing that I’ll injure or kill one or both of us?” she asked. Her tone was so sad, so defeated that he couldn’t stand it. He wanted to hold her, to reassure her and kiss away her sadness, but he also thought she might bolt if he eased closer.
“I call it something to work on. We each have our stuff. I got jilted at the altar in front of everyone I know. Don’t pretend you’re special, June,” he joked.
She gave him the hint of a smile.
“You’re my best friend, June, and I need you,” he admitted, his tone so sincere she finally looked him in the eye. “Don’t freak out and pull away. We’re both a work in progress, okay?”
“I’ll try,” she said, voice shaky.
“Hug me,” he said.
“It’s weird when you’re bossy,” tentatively, she eased closer and rested her head on his chest.
“You love it,” he accused, mostly to distract her from the fact that his arms slid around her, pressing her to him in a monster hug. He wished that hug could tell her everything he wanted, how much she meant to him, how much he needed her, how amazing and special she was. Instead he was afraid it came off as desperation. If he were being honest, there was also a fair amount of that in there, too. “I have no idea where I’d be right now, if you hadn’t rescued me, June Kellogg. Never forget that.”
She eased back and tipped her face to his. “It’s June Lawrence,” she reminded him, smiling wider when he beamed at her.
“You’re right, sorry.” He wanted to kiss her then. Who was he kidding? He wanted to kiss her always, but he also didn’t want to spook her. He touched his nose gently to hers. “Thanks for coming in.”
She didn’t reply. In her mind, she probably saw this encounter as a failure, possibly even a liability, but Aiden didn’t see it that way. It was a rescue, even with all the blood. He touched his fingers to her wounded hand. “Still the best part of my day,” he assured her.
That finally reached her because her expression turned fierce, an adorable sight to behold. “Don’t let them talk badly about you, Aiden. You did nothing wrong. In fact you did everything right. They are not allowed to gossip about you.”
“I’ll tell them my wife said so,” he assured her, and her smile eked up on the genuine meter.
She rested her head on his heart. “It’s so much easier when it’s just you and me.”
“It’s always you and me, June. It’s our secret club.” He kissed the top of her head, trying not to sniff her perfect scent. Was it reality that she smelled better than Erica, or only the betrayal that made it seem that way? June smelled fresh and light. In his mind, Erica now smelled bitter and musty. Surely that must be a trick of his imagination. He never noticed Erica smelling bad before she left him at the altar.
“Okay,” June said, sounding slightly mollified by his assurance.
“Don’t wait up for me, I’ll be home late. I’ll lock up.”
“You always do,” she said, giving him a little pat as she took a step back. “You make me feel safe, Aiden.”
He wasn’t certain how to feel about that. Was safety good or bad? He had no idea, but he did want her to feel safe, safe and valued and every good thing she deserved. “You make me feel happy.” He told her. As they surveyed each other, another round of tension buzzed between them. This time Aiden was saved by the radio in his lapel, calling his attention to an incoming patient.
“Car accident,” Aiden repeated, unnecessarily, since she could hear their page.
“Good luck,” June said, giving his chest a little pat.
“Thank you for coming, June. I really appreciate it.”
“I’d do anything to help you, Aiden. I hope you know that.”
“You help me by being alive,” he assured her, already turning toward the door and resuming doctor mode.
“Let’s hope I can stay that way,” was what he thought she muttered, too softly for his ears to discern.