17. Boner - A Bonea Tissue?
17
BONER - A BONE OR A TISSUE?
CHARLES
It’s five in the evening when I step inside the meeting room where the board members and Grandma Irene are waiting for me. I’m about to take a seat when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I look down at an unknown number and slide it back.
“Irene, Charles, thank you for making time on such short notice. But we would all like to fix something,” says Tim Baldwin. He’s one of the oldest board members, and also one of my granddad’s closest friends.
“But before we do that, we have something for you.” He grabs a huge bouquet of purple carnations decorated with paper butterflies. My mind immediately slips to the picture of Daisy’s feet wearing the fuzzy slippers.
Chloe had been hounding me since the day our wedding date was finalized to buy something for my new bride. As much as I don’t like to admit it, I’ve never been able to say no to my sister.
While scouring the internet for some expensive jewelry, I found an advertisement for unorthodox gifts and saw the slippers. The rest was easy.
What I didn’t know was watching her wear them and the hint of her toenails, would affect my mind and body this way. But it’s not just the picture.
It’s her.
Everything about her since we returned home last evening is different.
The way she demanded my kiss.
The way she felt in my arms.
Her bee-stung, heart-shaped lips, which taste fucking delicious.
Her soft skin, which makes me want to never pull my hand away.
The scent of her perfume.
My fist tightens against my thigh.
This is not the time to be fucking horny, Charles.
I adjust my suit before I rise and accept the flowers. I’ve just taken my seat when the door of the meeting room pulls open. Something sharp digs in my chest when Dave’s eyes find mine, and he walks in.
There has to be an emergency for him to interrupt.
“What is it?” I ask as soon as he’s near me.
“It’s Mrs. Hawthorne, sir,” he whispers only for my ears.
“Mom?” I ask, my heart thumping hard.
Dave shakes his head. “It’s Daisy.”
Fear digs its claws into my chest, and I find my ability to breathe becoming progressively more difficult with each second that passes.
“She went to the new construction site with a business partner, and he just now called to check if she’s returned. Steve is on his way, but we’re much closer to the site. I don’t want to leave you, but—”
“Let’s go.” I’m already marching toward the door when Grandma calls my name.
“Charles? Where are you going?”
“I need to go. It’s urgent.”
Without a second thought, I leave the room. We step into the elevator, and Dave clears his throat.
“I know what this meeting means for you, Mr. Hawthorne. I can check up on Mrs. Hawthorne—”
“I don’t like people questioning me, Dave, especially the ones I expect to be by my side. And I want to know what happened today and why the fuck Steve wasn’t with Daisy.”
The man nods and doesn’t say anything further. I’ll feel bad about barking at him sometime later. Right now, I want to bring my wife home, where I know she’s safe.
My heart is in my throat at the sight before me. The building is partially collapsed, and I hope with everything in me that if Daisy is inside, she’s safe in the only tower still standing.
I’m about to enter when Steve parks my McLaren next to the limo in a hurry.
“Mr. Hawthorne, I’m so sorry, sir.” His face is pale, as it should be. “Dave and I will safely get Mrs. Hawthorne. Please wait here, sir.”
“Do you really think I’m going to trust anyone after this? You better have a damn good reason for not being with Daisy, Steve.”
Without waiting for his apology, I enter the building, my bodyguards following closely behind. The farther I walk inside, the more the lasso of fear tightens around my chest.
“Daisy.” My panicked call for her is met with no response.
What the fuck are you doing here all alone, Daisy?
We split in different directions. I make a second left and continue to holler her name, until I hear a faint “Yes” in her soft, shivery voice.
Thank fucking God.
“Charles.”
I rush in her direction as fast as I can, trying not to think about the debris crunching under my footsteps.
I finally reach what might have been an office. The door has collapsed, along with the neighboring walls, which have fallen on each other and closed the entire space.
“Daisy, I’m here.”
Her low sniffles cut me raw. I try to ignore the grip of fear and instead focus on bringing her out.
Thankfully, Steve and Dave join me. The moment we pull away the door, my heart lurches in my mouth. Daisy is hunkered in the corner with a thick beam precariously hanging above her head, ready to fall any second. Her hands rest above her head, shielding herself.
“Charles,” she whispers as if she doesn’t believe I’m here.
“You’re safe.” My fingers tighten into a fist as I whisper, when all I want to do is scream at whoever is responsible for putting my wife in this situation.
Fresh tears run down her cheeks as she closes her eyes but makes no attempt to move.
“I thought I’d die tonight.” Daisy hiccups. “I thought I’d never see Dad again, never see you.” Her hands are still above her head, and she finally looks up at them. “I’ve been sitting like this for an hour in case the beam falls down, even though I know if it happens, I wouldn’t be able to stop it. It’d probably crush my skull. I was so scared, Charles.”
“I know, Daisy.” Who knows fear better than me? “But you have to come out so I can take you home where it’s safe.”
She nods vehemently while tears continue to race down her cheeks. “I…I don’t think I can move.”
Fuck. My heart rattles against my rib cage.
Focus, Charles.
Be strong. She’s here. You just have to get her out, bring her home, and then fucking destroy whoever left her here.
“Give us a minute,” I instruct Steve and Dave without my gaze leaving my wife.
When they’re out of earshot, I get down on my knees. But before I can say anything, she tips her chin up.
“What if everything falls down the moment I move, Charles?”
“Steve and Dave inspected the area, Daisy. It’s safe for you to step out. I promise. I’m here and I’m not going to leave without you.”
She nods and slowly gets on all fours before crawling toward me. My molars grind together when her palms land on the broken glass bulb. She yelps in pain but continues to move forward, her hiccups echoing in the space. The moment her knees land on the broken glass will be etched into my memory forever.
Whoever did this will have to pay for every one of her tears that fell on the ground today.
When she finally reaches me, Daisy throws herself into my arms and I catch her. She’s like my oxygen right now, and without her, I can’t breathe. I don’t stop until we reach the limo. This evening is going to be the highlight of my nightmares for countless nights.
All my self-control snaps the moment I place Daisy into the rear seat of the car and she collapses against the seat and her eyes slowly close.
“Call the doctor, and then I want to know exactly what the fuck happened!”
I hit the privacy screen and help her rest against the back seat. Instead, Daisy falls over me. Her scraped hands grip the lapels of my gray jacket, leaving red marks on the expensive fabric.
After grabbing two paper napkins from the tray table and wetting them with water, I gently rub them against her tattered palms. Her head rolls against my chest, and I breathe in the floral scent of her perfume and shampoo.
Thankfully, there’s no shards sticking out of her skin. I dispose of the soaked paper into the bin before tearing my handkerchief into two and use the scraps as a bandage on her hands.
I repeat the process and clean her knees. Daisy moans in pain, but the sound sends a jolt inside me. My free hand tightens around her naked thigh as her skirt rises up. Feeling like the biggest jerk, I push it down.
When we reach home, Mrs. Kowalski is already waiting with the doctor in the living room. Daisy rouses up slowly when I place her on the couch. There’s a tense silence in the room when the doctor examines her. All my muscles tighten, and I feel there’s a tornado rising inside me, struggling for release. I just need to be away from her when that happens.
“Charles?” Daisy’s low voice torments me.
“I’m here, butterfly.”
The nickname slips from my lips without thought. But I have no plans to take it back, especially after seeing a hint of color on her ashen face for the first time since she got home. I perch lightly on the oak wood coffee table before her and turn to her doctor.
“Why did she faint?”
“I think it’s because of stress, Mr. Hawthorne. But I’d still like to run some blood work, just to be sure everything is okay and there are no surprises like any deficiencies or a pregnancy. I hope this is okay with you?”
The doctor awaits a response, but my brain hasn’t processed anything beyond the p-word.
Is she goddamn pregnant?
“Mr. Hawthorne?” he asks, but I can’t tear my eyes away from Daisy.
The pink on her cheeks is replaced by crimson, and it’s certainly not because she’s burning with anger like me.
Does she like the idea of carrying the child of that dick-pic porno star, Jax.
“Yes, it’s okay with us,” Daisy finally replies.
The doctor leaves, but I’m rooted in place because everything I’ve feared in life is knocking at my door with a roaring intensity. Silence stretches in the living room, but there’s a raging tempest in my chest, ready to burst out.
“Charles.” My name on Daisy’s lips is a soft whisper, and when she gingerly places her hand covered in white gauze over my left knee, my control snaps.
I rise and in the next second, I’ve pinned Steve against the wall. “How the fuck was she alone in that hellhole today?”
The ex-Navy SEAL who scares everyone with his size and deadly looks gulps.
“Charles!” Daisy lets out a high-pitched scream while Mrs. Kowalski gasps.
But everything is white noise as my forearm digs into Steve’s chest until Daisy limps toward us.
“Let Steve go.” When she hisses in pain trying to push me away, I release my bodyguard and turn around in a flash.
“Will you get back on the couch?”
“No!” Daisy’s eyes blaze, completely opposite to how I found her. “You need to listen to me.”
“I don’t need to do a fucking thing.”
Especially if there’s even a one percent chance that she’s pregnant with that asshole’s kid.
“Charles, it’s not Steve’s fault.” As always, my assistant doesn’t listen to me. “I decided to join Mr. Buffay at the site.”
“Why didn’t you take your own car instead of driving with a stranger?” My teeth grit.
“What?”
Daisy looks at me as if I’m speaking a different language, but I have nothing to add. My question was goddamn clear.
“It’s not the first time I’ve accompanied a partner for work. What’s changed?”
“This changed everything.” I grab her hand, mindful of the bandage, where her engagement ring and wedding band shine under the bright light of the chandelier. “You are Mrs. Charles Hawthorne, in case you’ve forgotten.”
She shoots me a withering look, but that only intensifies the fire inside me.
“And it seems there’s a possibility we soon might be three.”
I tug her closer, and she falls over my chest. My hand rests against her belly, and a defining thunder booms in my chest.
Daisy stiffens, and after a momentarily frozen pause, she intertwines our fingers, her trembling bandaged hands grabbing my cold ones. Her father’s gold band on my finger clicks with her rings.
“Will you please give us a minute?” she mumbles to the staff and tugs me toward the bedroom.
I go willingly. I’d love to talk to her without an audience and false pretenses.
The moment the door shuts with a loud thud, Daisy jabs her finger against my chest. “You want to know why I accompanied Mr. Buffay? Because you asked me to.”
Before I can call her out on this bullshit lie, she raises her hand.
“Not today. When I was first attending a meeting at the client site, I asked if your driver could drop me off, since he was already headed that way. But you refused. You said, and I quote”—she makes those stupid air quotes—“‘Miss Price, the last time I checked, Steve and Dave don’t receive their salary from you. You should manage like everyone else.’”
She pauses just long enough to suck in a breath. “The company policy is either I take the company car and pay for gas or take a cab. Many days, I have lots of meetings around town, and to save money, I started carpooling or taking lifts, but only after I know the person well.”
“That was before I knew you couldn’t drive, dammit.”
She’s throwing that in my face today?
Since I learned that Daisy can’t drive—which is an entirely different stupidity of its own—I’ve made sure she has a ride always, even at the expense of me running late on some rare occasions.
“Sorry that my instincts are failing me and I’m not immediately on board like you in this marriage thing. I’m sorry that I didn’t receive proper acting skills. I’m sorry that I thought I should say yes to the pregnancy test otherwise it might stir up a new set of rumors about this being fake. But you don’t have to worry because I’m not pregnant. It’s been a year since my jerk ex bothered to sleep with me while he was getting his dick sucked by other women. So, no, Mr. Hawthorne, there’s no bastard coming to destroy your perfect plan.”
Her finger jabs at my chest repeatedly with so much force that the bandage around her hand comes loose. She attempts to put it back in place but fails and gets more irritated.
I yank her closer, but she jerks out of my grasp. “I don’t need your help.”
But when she continues to fail, I tug on her wrist. “Either I’m doing it or I’m calling the doctor back.” Before she can look away, I pin her with my gaze. “I mean it, Daisy.”
She finally stops squirming, and I tie the bandage. Her rapid breathing subsides, and knowing she’s safe and there are no surprises, my own heartbeat starts to settle to its normal pace.
“From this moment on, you’ll drive with either Steve or Dave. I also don’t want you running inside dilapidated buildings, wife.”
Her pulse flutters under my touch when I call her that— wife . For someone who hated the idea of getting tied down, I’m enjoying riling Daisy up.
It’s because you know this is temporary.
“I’ll try not to make it a habit, husband.” Her eyes are shining, gleaming with anger, but a slow smile finally touches her lips.
My gaze travels south from her face to her hands and scraped knees, until it settles on her bare feet. One of her purple toenails has broken.
“You hurt your feet too.”
A shiver courses through her at my whispered words. Daisy’s face pales again, reminding me of the moment I found her trapped under the wall.
“I…I was scared,” she whispers, her eyes falling closed, and a tiny tear finds escape.
“Me too.” My grip on her face is featherlight as I run my thumb over the teardrop.
Her eyes open, lips quiver, and the realization of what could have happened today brushes against me once again.
There’s a reason I keep everyone at arm’s length.
“Thank you for coming to save me.”
Before I can reply and tell her that she never has to thank me, there’s a small knock on the bedroom door.
When I open the door, Mrs. Kowalski is patiently waiting with a tea tray.
“Can I get you both some early dinner, sir? Mrs. Hawthorne hasn’t eaten anything since last night.”
Daisy is beside me in the next second. Without thought, I throw my arms around her waist for support.
“You didn’t have breakfast?” I feel the irritation returning to my voice.
“You neither,” she replies with equal fervor.
I’m not used to people butting heads with me at every step, but I didn’t expect anything less from my wife. I can’t stop smiling at my own stupidity.
“People call me competitive, Mrs. Hawthorne, but if they saw you, I’d easily be dethroned.”
After giving me a satisfied smirk, Daisy turns to Mrs. Kowalski. “I’m not very hungry. But since I have to take the meds, can I please get a glass of milk?”
“Daisy—”
“No, you’ve said enough tonight, Charles. In case you’ve forgotten, you’re not my master.”
Once Mrs. Kowalski leaves, I shut the door and follow Daisy toward the closet. “I’m not trying to be difficult, but I’m not going to sit silent when I see that your safety is compromised. I can’t let that happen.”
Doesn’t she know I’d sell my soul to protect her from any harm?
Did you know this before today, Hawthorne?
Daisy’s irritated, furrowed forehead relaxes. “I know, and that’s the only reason I listened.”
After her dinner of a glass of milk and a quick shower she insisted on because she didn’t want to smell like dust and debris, Daisy changes into another of her cute pajamas before slipping under the covers. When I step into the bathroom, next to my black towel on the towel rack is her purple one. Beside my toiletries in black packaging, her floral and colorful bottles stand out, making me aware of how much my life has changed.
I step into the shower and turn on the water, and for some reason the first droplet is enough to suck me back to when I found Daisy crammed in a corner with tears racing down her cheeks. My mouth goes dry, even as I’m surrounded by mist, and before my brain can freeze fully, I remind myself that she’s safe and mostly unharmed. I crush my fists over my eyes, willing myself to stay with that emotion of relief and nothing else. When my heartbeat has finally calmed down, I step out, dry myself, and brush my teeth. I throw my toothbrush next to hers in the holder. The pink and gray bristles touch as I turn away.
Returning to the bedroom, my gaze slants to Daisy’s small frame asleep on the bed.
I softly amble toward the couch and close my eyes. Images of her trapped under the rubble fill my headspace once again.
When I get up, my mouth is dry and my T-shirt is soaked in sweat.
What the fuck?
In a split second, I turn around to find Daisy safely sleeping on my bed. My hands fucking shake as I grab a glass of water before resting my head once again against the pillow.
Eyes closed, I try to think of something else, something where Daisy isn’t at risk.
My wife in her wedding dress swaying side to side with her dad on the dance floor.
A zing zips through my chest as I remember the happiness on Jason’s face as if right in this moment, every other problem of his life is insignificant.
You’ll never get to experience that emotion, Charles, a tiny voice whispers, but I crush it before it has a chance to expand.
Instead, I remind myself that Jason might have enjoyed every part of Daisy’s wedding, but he’s not going to remember anything.
Next time I’m jerked out of sleep, it’s not because of my dreams, but Daisy’s wild cry.
I turn on the nightlight to find her thrashing, with the duvet thrown on the floor. I rush to her as tears continue racing down her cheeks, soaking the pillowcase and her hair in their wake.
“Daisy?” I call her name softly a few times, but it’s like my voice doesn’t even reach her.
When she moans in pain, I hold her shoulders and gently shake her.
“Daisy!”
She rises with a shriek leaving her lips.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe.”
“W-where am I?” Her teeth chatter, and I gently hold her face to find her frozen.
“You’re home, butterfly. You’re safe with me.” I get beside her and pull her against my warm chest before bringing the covers over us.
“Can you p-please turn on the h-heat, Charles?” She continues to stutter.
“It’s at max.” I rub her hands against mine.
Her ice-cold cheek rest against my bare warm chest. Her breaths come in pants, caressing my skin.
My fists clench as I will my heartbeat to slow down the thrumming that has recently started to make an appearance every time Daisy is around. I hate myself for loving the way she fits against me and the way she affects my body.
My wife. Fragile on the outside, with nerves of steel. Mine to protect from every threat.
“Then the radiator must be broken. What’s the use of so much money if you can’t get it fixed?” Her chatter used to sound nonsensical, but now I can’t get enough of it.
“Do you really think I’d let my beautiful wife sleep in a cold room?” I whisper against her ear.
This time when she shivers, I know it’s not because of the cold, but me.
Daisy’s Bambi-brown eyes wide with surprise slowly turn up to me.
“Save your charm for when there’s an audience, husband.”
“Don’t worry, there’s plenty where that came from.” I hide my smile in her hair, inhaling her shampoo.
“Who knew you’d have a caring bone in your body?”
Her voice is no longer quivering as before, but goose bumps rise on her arms under my touch.
“I have enough bones you’re not familiar with.”
“Did you just make a dirty joke, Charles A. Hawthorne?” She squeals, turning around in a flash.
Ensuring she doesn’t fall from the bed, I pull her closer, and that’s how my wife lands smack right on my lap. Her face is an inch away from mine. Her feet are on either side of my hips, and her butt is right on top of my cock, which has become more and more aware of her presence.
“I pointed out the truth. Plus, the part you’re referring to”—which now jerks its neck as if waving a hello—“is not really a bone but tissue.”
“Then why is it called a boner?” she asks while the organ gets to full mast. There’s no way she’s missing it.
“Are you really asking me that right now?” I raise an eyebrow, and Daisy finally smiles for the first time since waking up from whatever nightmare hit her.
As if the same thought crosses her mind, her smile drops. “Can you stay here for a little longer?”
I nod. “I can’t go anywhere anyway. My little wife has me captive.”
Her grin is wide, warming my insides. Folding her arms over her chest, Daisy leans in. “Yes, I do. Who knew you could be so well-behaved!”
“Well-behaved? What am I, a dog?” Laughter spurts out of my mouth.
“No, you are my big, bad husband.” Her jaw drops, because in the same instant, that big part of me jerks, once again making its presence known. “Sorry. I didn’t think before speaking.”
“That’s fine as long as you can ignore a few things. I don’t think I can control it.”
And ain’t that true.
As much as I like to control every aspect of my life, right now that word is far from my mind. Everything about her is driving me crazy.
Her soft voice.
The feel of her curves under my hands.
The light scent of her floral body wash, which I now know comes in bright red packaging.
“So there’s something in this world that is out of the Charles Hawthorne’s control?”
“I’m equally surprised.” More from the fact that it’s wrapped up in the tiny body of my wife.
Her fingers move over my chest, and color rises on her cheeks. My heart is thumping wildly against my rib cage.
“Where’s your shirt?” Her words break my thoughts.
“I run hot at night,” I reply without blinking, because it’s the truth. Before her, I preferred sleeping in my boxers.
“Uh-huh. So you mean you don’t even wear pants?”
Her face is serious, as if she’s talking about the weather and not questioning about me being naked. I can’t believe we’re having his conversation, especially when she’s made my lap her favorite seat.
I nod. “But since I didn’t want to scandalize you too much, I decided to put some on.”
“It would be too hard to ignore,” she says slowly, her gaze moving up from my chest to my face. “You know what I mean?”
“Definitely,” I reply, almost in pain.
“Want to talk about something else?”
“Definitely,” I repeat, releasing a heavy breath.
“What happened in the board meeting today?”
All the roaring blood in my body traveling south settles down.
Everything I’d wanted was right in that room, but I rushed out like a madman without a second thought.
Do I have regrets? Hell no. I knew what was at stake.
Will there be a lot of answering to Grandma and the board? Unfortunately, yes.
“I don’t know. I left before it started.”
“You did what?”