Chapter 24
brOOKE
Iwoke up in a dreamlike state, my head on Cade’s bare chest. Smiling to myself, I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I had cast my yoga pants off in the night, so I slipped one of his shirts over my tank and reveled in the way it smelled like him, woodsy and sweet.
I came back to the bed and stood admiring the view of him, rumpled from sleep and in nothing but those gray sweatpants.
His hair was deliciously mussed, the imprint of the pillowcase creases on his cheek.
Even sleeping he had the slightest smile on his face, like a contended kitten taking a nap in a spot of sun.
He woke up and caught me staring.
“It’s rude to watch people sleep, you know,” he teased.
We made breakfast together, punctuated by hands on hips as we passed back and forth to the fridge, dropping sweet kisses on each other like lovesick teenagers.
After breakfast I chuckled when I saw Maple and Echo curled up together on the dog bed in the living room, taking a nap. Echo’s head rested on Maple’s hindquarters while they snoozed.
“I think he’s smitten,” I joked to Cade.
“I know the feeling.” He kissed my head.
I floated back to Boston on a cloud. It had been the perfect weekend.
I had to work the next two weekends, but we planned to meet up for dinner somewhere between our places when we both had our next overlapping free night.
I was also secretly planning a small birthday dinner for him before he returned to California.
My heart thudded uncertainly every time I thought about him driving back across the country.
But I couldn’t think about that, so I distracted myself with work and catching up on our favorite shows with Whit.
There were perks to being in my new unit. One—I got to be around babies, something I desperately needed right now. Two, I no longer had to worry about awkwardly running into Brock.
The NICU unit wasn’t exactly easier than being a floor nurse for Internal Medicine, but the bodies we lifted were much lighter, which was obviously helpful especially on my flare days.
The emotional toll was a different story, but it was worth it.
We got close with many of the families whose babies were in our care.
Babies came into the NICU for a variety of reasons—respiratory distress during delivery, blood sugar issues with a gestational diabetic mother, premature births, and of course, babies suffering from addiction.
Being in NICU also gave us nurses a certain amount of deference from the doctors and specialists that came into the unit. Most truly respected us and our expertise in the unit, which wasn’t always the case with other specialities.
Like in all aspects of nursing, taking care of others made me feel wholly right. The contentment I got from my work made it more than worth the strain it put on my body.
So my life was currently all about babies, caring for babies at work, and being the secondary caregiver to baby Ivy at home.
Whit was enduring the chaos of her new-mom-of-an-infant schedule, so as often as I could I took care of Ivy so Whit could catch a nap or go grocery shopping.
When we were out, Ivy was the kind of baby strangers couldn’t help but notice—always smiling and happy.
At the store once, an older woman stopped me, asking, “Is she yours?”
“She’s my niece,” I smiled back.
I did all of our laundry to give Whit a break and let her work on her graphic designs.
She didn’t have many clients yet, so her time was split between creating existing designs and seeking out new opportunities, as well as navigating the wilds of social media promotion.
I didn’t know much about the industry, but I let her use me as a sounding board anytime she wanted to talk things through out loud.
I also offered up some of my old sorority connections to get the ball rolling and drum up new business.
Ivy was four months old now and starting to roll over.
I couldn’t believe how quickly she’d grown.
Other than a general hatred of sleep, she was a happy-go-lucky baby.
I hadn’t kept up my gym membership, so instead I’d lace up my most supportive sneakers and strap her in the baby carrier or the stroller and take her for walks around our neighborhood. Maple always trotted along beside us.
I swore Maple preened proudly in her new bright red service vest, and whenever Ivy would cry, Maple would come over and nudge Whit or me until we got up and tended to the baby.
One day Whit caught my eye when I was holding Ivy. “It’s not too much for you, is it?”
I gave her a questioning look.
“Ivy. Both of us, being here.”
“Whit—no. I love Ivy. She’s perfect. She feels like she’s a little bit mine, too.”
“That’s because she is.” Whit nodded. “You know I’m the first to believe that family goes beyond DNA. But you don’t ever wish—?”
I shook my head. “Things are great, Whit. I love having you and Ivy here. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Promise.”
She wrapped me in a hug, the rest of the words left unsaid.
I made an appointment with Cheryl, updating her on the changes in my life, which were pretty much all positive, other than missing Cade and hating our time apart.
Even with only a three-hour drive separating us, Cade and I struggled to find times to meet up.
He also didn’t want me driving back to Boston late after dinner, especially knowing how tired I tended to get in the evenings.
He was always hyper-aware of my condition like that, and his attentiveness to it warmed my heart.
The distance was frustrating, but we spent every night possible on the phone, and kept up our never-ending text thread, so it never felt like we were truly out of touch.
Every day I missed his smell and his touch, though, and I couldn’t ignore that our time was counting down before he’d have to leave New England.
Despite Cade’s protests that it would be too much for me, one Wednesday night we met up at a pub in New Hampshire, roughly equidistant between Boston and Birch Hollow.
The pub offered a variety of comfort foods like hearty pastas, chicken pot-pies, and brick-oven pizza.
It was a slow midweek night, so we were the only customers.
The restaurant had wood floors and deep red walls.
String lights hung from the rafters, giving the place a festive look despite its desolation.
The waitress asked if we wanted beers, and we both declined.
I ordered the chicken pot-pie, and Cade ordered a maple bacon club sandwich and fries.
We ate and joked and laughed, our feet tangling under the table.
After dinner we walked out hand in hand to the nearly-deserted parking lot, which only had the employees’ cars besides our own. I sighed, feeling full and sleepy.
Cade brought his forehead to mine, his eyes boring into me. “Call me and stay on the phone the whole drive back,” he pleaded, holding both my hands in his. “I can’t have you falling asleep at the wheel.”
I nodded, knowing this night would cause me extra exhaustion for the rest of the week, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. We were in that honeymoon stage where a little missed rest just didn’t seem to matter, our hormones and emotions carrying us through the tiredness.
He pulled me towards his car and wrapped me in a firm hug, enveloping me in his woodsy scent. His nose rubbed through my hair.
“Peaches,” he sighed in contentment.
His lips met mine, gentle at first, then building in intensity.
His tongue found mine and his movements roughened, his breathing becoming labored.
Cade grabbed my hips, lifting me up onto the hood of his car.
I let out a muted squeal. He placed his hands on either side of my hips, caging me in like he loved to do, a predator chasing his prey.
I met his advances with equal fervor, deepening our kisses until I reached a point of desperation.
“Don’t stop,” I panted, “I think I’m going to—”
“Yes, baby,” he encouraged. His usually-bright eyes looked inky dark in the dim parking lot light. The heel of his hand met the front of my jeans and he rubbed firmly as we resumed our kiss. My legs shook from the friction, and I cried out, exploding.
Cade leaned his head against mine as I caught my breath.
“What about you?” I asked.
“I’m good,” he winked. “Your noises—God. I was right there with you. Going to need to clean myself up when I get home.”
“Oh,” I said shyly, a furious blush coating my cheeks. As the frenzy settled, I realized we were lucky no one had come out to the dark parking lot during our escapade.
We finally departed the parking lot, Cade’s voice already on my speakerphone. Unable to hold it in any longer, I told him to set aside his final Saturday in town for his birthday dinner.