Prologue
RORY
My body ached from spending hours upon hours curled up in that uncomfortable chair, either sleeping or watching the steady rise and fall of Cord’s chest the whole time.
The arid hospital room had dried out my sinuses, making it difficult to breathe, but still I refused to budge.
Not until he woke up and I could see for myself that he was going to be okay.
As I sat in that cold, sterile room, memories of the past bombarded me.
I could still remember the exact moment I first met Cord Paulson with perfect clarity.
I could recall exactly what he was wearing the first time he walked into The Tap Room as if it were just yesterday.
The jeans, the faded black tee with a picture of a Harley Fat Boy on the front, the unbuttoned flannel he wore over it.
There was nothing special about what he wore, but how he was wearing it made my belly heat and my skin grow tight and tingly.
I remembered how I’d watched with rapt fascination as he moved through the thick crowd with the kind of confidence that couldn’t be learned or faked.
He walked with a self-assuredness that had to be ingrained in a person from birth.
I hadn’t met many people with that brand of confidence, but this man had it in spades.
The first words he’d spoken to me were still stuck in my head. “Dig the shirt, dollface,” he’d teased, eyeing my cherry-red T-shirt with the words “Tap It Real Good” stretched along the front in big white bubble letters.
That endearment hit my belly and took bloom like a field of wildflowers. “What can I say, stud?” I grinned playfully. “It’s excellent marketing.”
He’d turned to take in the bar. It was only a Wednesday evening, but we were still hopping. “Don’t doubt that for a second.”
I even remembered the very first beer he ordered and how his gaze felt like a physical touch as he watched me pour his Guinness.
But the most potent memory I carried with me, the one I went back to every night when I curled up in bed alone, was the very first thought I had when he stepped into my life.
Dear Lord, I want this one. Please, please let me have him.
He was it.
I didn’t know how or why I knew that.
I just did.
My life changed in that moment. It was the start of something unexplainable, something that felt important and all-consuming, and I knew I’d never be the same.
I didn’t have a single doubt that I’d just met the man of my dreams, the one meant just for me, the guy I’d been waiting on for most of my life.
Those were the memories that had plagued me for the past three days as I waited for him to wake up, fear clutching my heart in a vise grip the entire time.
All the bad had been drowned out when I received the call days ago telling me he’d been shot while trying to save my friend Eden from some very bad men.
“We’re not sure he’s gonna make it, sweetheart,” Lincoln had said through the line. I wanted to collapse to the floor, but if he was truly dying, there wasn’t time. I had to get to him.
It was amazing how the mind worked. In times of tragedy or stress, it was only the good we held on to.
I didn’t care that he’d broken my heart.
I didn’t care that he’d been my best friend until the day he cast me aside.
None of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was that he pulled through this, because I needed him to come back.
I could live in a world where he wasn’t a part of my life as long as he was happy and healthy.
But a world where he didn’t exist at all was unimaginable.
“You should go home, get some real sleep,” my friend Nona said, rounding Cord’s hospital bed and resting her hand on my shoulder. “You look wrecked, doll.”
“I...” My gaze slid back to the bed and my throat grew uncomfortably tight.
Cord’s naturally olive-toned skin was frighteningly pale.
The man who’d once been so imposing looked frail.
I hadn’t thought it possible for a man with his size and personality to look so weak.
It was terrifying. “I can’t,” I managed to whisper.
“I just… I don’t want him to wake up and be all alone. ”
“She should be here,” Nona bit out, her voice as hard and jagged as stone.
My fear gave way to anger, just as it had every time I thought about her. Laurie Dutton. The woman who held Cord’s heart and the reason he’d thrown everything we were to each other away. In the three days I’d been sitting vigil, she hadn’t shown her face once.
“Don’t bring her up,” I clipped. “Not here. Not now when he’s…”
Her voice softened immediately. “All right, honey. I’m sorry.” She gave me a moment to pull in a calming breath before speaking again. “I’m not gonna be able to convince you to take a break, am I?”
I didn’t bother replying to a question she already knew the answer to.
When I didn’t say anything she let out a heavy sigh and squeezed my shoulder. “Okay, Ror. But if you need me you just call, okay? Any time. I’m here. All your friends are.”
She left a minute later, and I resumed my task of counting each of Cord’s inhales.
Bone-deep exhaustion from constant worry and lack of sleep tugged at my senses and weighed my eyelids down.
My vision began to blur and that weariness started to seep deep into me and pull me under when a sudden noise gave me a jolt.
My gaze shot up to Cord’s face just as his eyes fluttered and his lips parted on a craggy, pained groan.
Uncurling my legs, I shot to the very edge of the chair and leaned over to gently take his hand. “Cord?”
His eyelids continued to flutter for a second more before they finally opened all the way. Those dark forest green eyes were glassy from the medication, but that didn’t make them any less beautiful. The sense of relief I felt when his gaze landed on mine was so strong it brought tears to my eyes.
“Hey sweetie,” I whispered, smiling so big my cheeks ached. “Welcome back.”
“You’re here.”
“Of course I’m here, Cord. I’ve been waiting for you.” A watery laugh slid up my throat as my tears broke free. “You scared the life out of me.”
“You’re here,” he repeated, pulling his hand from mine and lifting it to caress my cheek, brushing the wetness away with his thumb.
Leaning into his touch, I wrapped my fingers around his wrist and pulled in a shaky breath, silently thanking God for bringing him back to me. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” I whispered. “So, so glad.”
Cord’s hand traveled up and into my hair, coming to stop at the base of my neck. His fingers put pressure on the back of my head, forcing me to bend lower as he lifted off his pillow.
His lips pressed against mine, and time suddenly stopped. The world stopped turning as the air froze in my lungs. When my lips parted on a surprised gasp, Cord’s tongue slid inside, and I was lost. Completely and happily lost in all that was him.
With that one kiss, all the dreams I’d started having the moment Cord Paulson came into my life, all the dreams I’d locked inside a box and tucked into the back of my mind for the past year and a half, came spilling out.
As gentle and slow as it was, that kiss was the best kiss of my life. Melting into him, I caressed his cheek as I took it deeper, brushing my tongue against his.
His fingers in my hair tightened as he pulled me even closer. A ragged moan rumbled from his chest, and I swallowed it down greedily, desperate for more.
It felt like an eternity passed before we broke apart, both panting and desperate for oxygen.
I rested my forehead against his, feeling his featherlight breaths whisper across my face as his eyes drifted shut again. His grip on my hair loosened as his arm went slack and his head dropped down onto the pillow in exhaustion.
Then he spoke. One word spoken with a reverence that shattered the illusions I’d let creep back in and give me hope.
On a heavy sigh, just before he slipped back into sleep, he whispered, “Laurie,” effectively breaking my heart beyond repair.