Chapter 3 #2
“I’m all over this,” Amelia states. “I’ve got your back, Blake.”
Blake lifts his chin to me. “Good luck, and for your sake, may the brother not be dead.”
Felicity crosses herself. “Amen.”
I hurry out of the room before Blake and decide that I’m never eating with my coworkers again. Never, ever again.
I head straight for the café and hope that Jett Cross isn’t picky. I have no idea what the specials are. Even with my employee discount, I can’t afford to eat at the manor restaurants. But if any situation calls for a splurge it’s this.
This is damage control. It doesn’t matter what my bank account looks like. This is a necessity.
Jett
Knock-knock.
I drag my eyes open as the sound that won’t stop breaks through the haze of the last pain pill I took.
Who the hell would be at my door? Even Harlow promised to leave me alone so I could sleep.
I’m so sick of nurses in and out of my room at all hours of the day and night checking my vitals to tell me something I already know.
Harlow’s kidney is working just fine. I don’t need a doctor or nurse or machine to tell me that.
Sure, it was fucking terrific to hear that my body didn’t reject it when I woke up. But after a few days, I could tell the difference. I feel like a new man. Hell, I feel like the man I used to be before my body went to shit.
Knock-knock-knock.
Damn. Devon assured me he’d keep Harlow from hovering for at least a few hours. My sister gives helicopter syndrome a new meaning since she found out about my PK-fucking-D that came damn near close to ending my life.
I was a thirty-six-year-old man hanging in the balance between stages three and four when I finally got a return call from Harlow after trying for months to get hold of the family I didn’t know I had. If my sister hadn’t stepped in to save me, I would have eventually had to go on dialysis.
But I’m past that.
Now, I’m in this city that’s not a city. This is a destination. I grew up in a small town and know the difference. Don’t get me wrong, rolling cornfields, prairies, and dirt roads have a charm about them. Even a beauty if you’re into that sort of thing. But Winslet is different.
It’s no wonder Devon Donnelly is making a killing at his new manor. This place is the shit. We’re surrounded by lakes that go on for miles and mountains that touch the heavens.
Better the mountains than me, since I was on a slow-rolling trip to meet my maker.
Knock-knock-knock.
Knock.
Knock-knock.
“Mr. Cross? Are you in there?”
A woman. A woman who’s not my sister.
“Mr. Cross, I have something for you.”
I groan and drag myself out of bed. The dull ache in my gut is stronger than before I went to sleep. I have to search for the light switch since I’ve only been in this room for about five minutes.
I flip the lock and pull the heavy door open.
“Um, hi,” she squeaks.
Fuck. It’s the woman who took me down in the lobby. It was not my proudest moment since she’s about as big as a twig, but I couldn’t dodge her when she walked into me, and her elbow connected with my side.
The words slip from my mouth before I can stop them. “It’s you.”
She doesn’t notice my glare, but her eyes do widen as they move south and take me in.
Her gaze lands on the puckered red skin that’s still stapled together.
I’m commando in my loosest gym shorts, which are baggy since I’ve lost weight.
I ripped off the bandage as soon as I got to my room and changed. The thing was making me crazy.
She’s clutching two paper bags to her chest as she stares at the fresh cut in my gut that disappears into my shorts. “Oh my.”
“Yeah, it hurts like a motherfucker. You’re small for a linebacker.”
Her dark eyes jump to my face as her fair complexion turns a shade of pink. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry.”
“You already said that,” I point out. “Right after you landed on top of me. And now you’ve woken me up.”
“Shit.” Her full lips press together right before she bites her bottom one.
“I mean shoot. I’m sorry I woke you. I feel horrible and wanted to do something to make it right.
I brought you lunch.” She doesn’t wait for me to accept it or move.
She pushes the door open all the way without an invite, and I have to move faster than feels good to shift out of her way.
“Are you dead set on killing me?” I mutter as I watch her walk on spiked heels across my mini suite to the kitchenette.
She works as she talks and helps herself to my refrigerator. “The opposite. I’m making it my mission to take care of you after earlier.”
I can’t take my eyes off her ass as her short skirt tightens even more when she squats to move the food around the minifridge that was full when I got here. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
“I disagree.” She stands, turns to me, and motions to the bags of food on the counter. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I got you the soup of the day and two sandwiches. You’re a big guy, so I figured one wouldn’t be enough. Are you hungry now or should I put this away for later?”
Her sweater is fitted and hits her high on the waist where the tight ass skirt starts. Her curves are small but fit her frame like she’s a work of art and not a mere broken human like the rest of us. The curls at the end of her thick, dark hair fall around her face and hit her tits.
Now I’m pissed I don’t remember what she felt like when I had my arms around her since I was in full-on defense mode to keep from busting through my staples.
Hell, I haven’t had a woman in my arms in a long time.
Definitely before the PK-fucking-D showed up.
My dick realizes this, too, and since I’m standing here commando, is not a good thing.
He needs to settle the fuck down.
“Mr. Cross?”
My eyes jump to her face. “Yeah?”
“Should I leave the food out or put it away for you?”
I don’t answer. Instead I ask what I should have earlier. “Who are you?”
She exhales and leans back against the counter. “Lennon Shaw. I’m the general manager of the hotel side of the manor. I’d ask who you are, but everyone knows who you are.”
I frown. I’m not used to anyone knowing who I am outside of my platoon or the town where I grew up in Iowa. “Why would anyone know who I am?”
She lifts one shoulder like it’s no big deal.
“In all honesty, I didn’t know who you were when we ran into each other, but I’ve heard of you.
You’re Harlow Madison’s brother. I thought Ms. Madison was the talk of the town until locals found out she had a secret brother and was giving him a kidney.
I’m new but not as new as you. I can only hope that the good people of Winslet will fixate on you rather than me for a change. ”
“I don’t need anyone fixating on me.”
For the first time, a smile spreads across her beautiful face. “I can speak from experience that you have no choice in the matter.”
“I grew up in a small town. If I avoid everyone, they’ll forget about me eventually.”
“Maybe this is different from your hometown. My only hope of them forgetting about me is you being newer than I am.” She pushes away from the counter and motions to the bags. “What would you like me to do with your food?”
“Leave it. You woke me up, so I might as well eat.”
She exhales like my eating is a relief to her. “Good. I put my card in the bag. If you need anything, please call me. I’m here for whatever you need. Really, anything.”
“Why do you want to do anything for me?”
She tips her head a fraction before she moves for the door.
It seems I’m not the only one dodging questions.
Before she opens it, she turns to me once more and I find myself again in deep negotiations with my dick to settle the fuck down because there’s no way he’s going to have anything to do with this woman.
“Let me know if there’s anything else you need. ”
And before I have a chance to tell her to stay the hell away from me or to beg her to stay because she’s the first distraction I’ve had from anything that has to do with a kidney in months, she disappears through the door, and it clicks shut behind her.
I adjust my junk, which unlike my bum kidneys, is as healthy as a horse.
No.
A fucking stallion.
And since I finally have a good kidney, my cock makes sure I know he’s sick and tired of not being the center of attention.
Even jerking off is the last thing my abs need at the moment. Instead I dig through the bags of food until I get to the bottom and find what I’m looking for.
Lennon Shaw.
General Manager.
The Manor at Winslet.
And I have her phone number. Not that I need it since she said she’d be back tomorrow.