Revival (Stone Trio #1)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

Cortney

My entire body feels like one enormous beating pulse.

Even the tips of my fingers throb as I don the protective gear outside of the door and slip into his hospital room.

Silence beckons me inside. My throat feels impossibly tight as I gently part the privacy curtain, leaving the fabric to flutter behind me.

The paper gown encasing my body crinkles with each movement, no matter how subtle. I fidget with the strings, with my diamond ring hidden beneath a rubber glove, and adjust the paper cap covering my long black hair before turning my attention to the bed.

Oh, Spencer.

My exhale is loud. The air forcibly exits my lungs at the sight of my first love lying immobile in the hospital bed. He’s large enough to make the bed seem small, but the gown encasing his muscular frame adds a layer of fragility I’ve never seen from him.

Spencer from my past was always untouchable. He carried an air of that bad-boy, you-only-live-once attitude.

Nothing scared Spencer Stone.

At least that’s what I thought. Until he snatched my virginity and dropped me like a hot mistake mere hours after the deed was done.

Evidently, I scared Spencer Stone. Enough for him to skip town.

My steps across the linoleum are cautious. The slow rise and fall of his chest convinces me he’s asleep, and I don’t want to startle him by thundering across the room.

I stop beside him, inhaling the scent of ointments and antiseptics. The sterile environment masks anything uniquely Spencer. The smell of him that only exists in ancient memories. Pushing aside my disappointment, I brush my fingers tentatively across the warm, smooth skin on the back of his hand. For a moment, I wish there wasn’t a layer separating us.

His brows twitch, but he doesn’t wake. With one touch, I’m transported back in time to a memory of curious, eager caresses and twisted sheets. I withdraw my hand as if I’ve been shocked and retreat a hasty step.

The door behind me slides open. A nurse enters the room.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know he had a visitor.”

“It’s okay. He’s been asleep.”

She nods and rounds the foot of his bed. “That’ll be the pain medication. It’s good he’s resting. I just need to check his bandages, and I’ll be out of your way.”

“Take your time.” I scoot back to watch her work, first with the bandage on his arm before moving onto his face. My stomach clenches as I document his injuries. The thought of what he went through, the pain he’s currently enduring, compresses my heart.

Spencer’s eyes flutter, his gaze unfocused on the woman beside him. A spear of jealousy stabs through my gut, and my next inhale gets stuck in my throat. At the sound, Spencer flicks his gaze in my direction for the first time.

The full effect of those piercing blue eyes, hazy from the medication but still steady on me, is swift. Years of memories, of heartache and longing, flit between us. My palms tingle, and my mouth opens, and I have a hundred different questions on my tongue.

The nurse works through our silence, documenting vitals, oblivious to the history swirling in the room like a summer storm.

As the clock on the wall ticks the minutes passing by, Spencer’s eyes never leave mine.

I tell myself it’s the medication. He’s half out of it. He probably doesn’t even know who I am.

But then the nurse leaves, and he murmurs one word.

“Cortney.” His voice is gritty and gruff and stokes something warm deep in my gut. The slur behind my name leaves room to interpret his tone.

“Hey, Spencer.”

“’S’been a long time.” He runs his tongue over cracked, dry lips.

I promptly retrieve his paper cup and straw. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Our fingers brush as he pulls the cup from my grip. Despite the layer of glove separating us, my skin prickles beneath his touch. He quenches his thirst while I wait by idly, then lowers the cup to his chest. “What’re you doing here?”

I level him with a look. “What do you think?”

He presses his head against his pillow. “Heard about the accident. That doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“If you heard I was in a terrible accident, you wouldn’t come home?”

Spencer scowls. “That’s different.”

I crack a weak grin for the first time since I stepped foot in this room. “How so?”

He blinks heavily, repeatedly, as if he’s fighting the medication threatening to pull him under.

“You’re you.”

I tuck my lower lip between my teeth to keep my jaw from falling open. “That’s not much of an explanation, Spence.”

This time, he lets his eyes close, almost as if he’s in pain. “Never thought I’d hear you say my name like that again.”

At the shiver threatening to encompass me, I tense.

You’re engaged to another man, I scold myself.

I’m lost for something to say, but Spencer isn’t.

“Do anything for you.” Whether it’s the medication talking or his heart, I’ll never know. I shouldn’t want to know. But then he flips over his hand and grabs mine, the strength startling for someone who appears so weak, and I find myself wanting to know everything he has to say.

“Spencer,” I whisper, staring down at our twisted fingers.

His thumb skates across my knuckles in a slow caress, stopping abruptly as he reaches the bump beneath my fourth one.

He huffs, the sound rife with bitterness. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“You wouldn’t know him.”

“Any kids?”

It strikes me then that he never heard about my son. “One. Oliver, but we call him Ollie. He’s seventeen.”

“Wow. A young man.” Spencer swallows hard. “I bet he’s decent and kind.”

“He is.” My response is choked.

“He would be with a mother like you.”

“Quite the assumption when you haven’t seen me since we were eighteen.”

The side of his lips tilt but drop as if he doesn’t have the strength to fake the smile. “And even then, you were one of the most nurturing people I knew, second to Nancy.”

Comparing me to my adoptive mom is a high compliment. That woman is a saint in the eyes of me and my five brothers. She and her husband picked us up off the streets one by one, each of us coming from rough childhoods down to straight abuse. Being lucky enough to become a Powell was a dream come true.

My biological mother died from terminal cancer when I was three. Since I never knew my father, I was sent to live with my mother’s sister. What ensued was a chaotic upbringing where I was invisible. Too many kids fighting over limited resources. Threadbare, too small, hand-me-down clothes. Sneaking into the kitchen at night to eat ketchup packets, because I didn’t get dinner. My aunt tried her hardest, but even with working two jobs, there wasn’t enough to go around.

By the time I was sixteen, I needed out.

There was no dramatic moment—just a quiet folding of my clothes into a trash bag and fifty bucks to hop a bus out of town.

I don’t like to think about what would have happened if I didn’t run into Nancy Powell.

“Thank you,” I say softly. “What about you? Any kids?”

“No. Nobody to make them with.”

“No wife?”

He shakes his head.

“I find that hard to believe.”

He hums from deep in his throat, and with his eyes still closed, he appears to have fallen asleep before he can get his next question out.

“Are you okay?” I ask quietly, not sure if I want him to wake up and deliver an answer.

“No.”

At the heartbreaking confession, I clench my hand into a fist, only then realizing it’s still wrapped tight in his. “You will be.” I fill my voice with conviction. If anyone can get through this, whatever this is, it’s Spencer Stone.

He doesn’t answer.

I should let him rest. The longer I stand here, the longer it feels like a betrayal to my fiancé back home. Even though nothing has happened. The feelings Spencer brings to the surface are enough to envelop me in guilt.

“You’ll get through this,” I murmur, leaning over the bedrail to place a firm kiss on the side of his head. The feel of his dark hair brushing my cheeks sends a wave of emotion through me. A well of tears crests along my lower lids, signaling the end of our visit.

With one last heartbreaking look at his sleeping form, I rush from the room.

* * *

“You’re awake.”

He drinks me in. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?”

“It’s a long drive from home.”

“I have audiobooks.” I roll my eyes and settle in the chair beside his bed.

“Don’t tell me you’re into those romance novels.” He raises a challenging brow.

“What if I am?” I uncross and cross my legs to distract myself from the flush creeping up my neck beneath this paper gown.

“Nothing wrong with liking what you like.” He snaps his gaze back to my face as old, teasing habits vanish into plumes of smoke around us.

“Oh.” His lack of sarcasm is startling. “That’s true. I have a book club back in Fairview Valley with my brothers’ wives.”

“Which brothers?”

“All of them.”

“They’re all married?”

A soft smile graces my face at the discussion of my brothers. “Aiden and Isla are only engaged, but their relationship is as solid as the others. They’re about to have a baby soon. If you stick around, you might find yourself invited to the wedding.”

“Give my invite to my brothers, and we’ll see.”

“Have you considered it?” I pick at my cuticle through my glove. “Sticking around?”

He gives a noncommittal shrug. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

My spine straightens. “You should.”

“Yeah? You think Lee is going to show up to my homecoming party?”

I fail to hide a grimace at the mention of Lee. Memories of how angry he was when Spencer left rise to the surface. “I don’t think my brother will be a problem.”

“You can’t know that.”

“He’s changed. He’s not the hothead he was when we were growing up. He’s married with a stepson. I mean, it’s been twenty years.”

His eyes find mine and flit between the two for a breath. “What are you really doing here, Cortney?”

“I thought you’d like a visitor.”

“I have them. Sutton and Silas and my mom have come by a handful of times each. I mean specifically, what are you doing here?”

At a point in our distant past, I would have been considered as close to him as his brothers and mother, but that time is long gone.

My jaw tenses. “I told you. I’m visiting.”

“You said it yourself. It’s been twenty years. We both know you aren’t here for a nostalgic trip to the past. You have a rock on your finger and a son.”

“Why does that matter?” My tone turns defensive. Mentioning my fiancé and my son is a low blow. “I care about you.”

“We both know there’s no point in digging up the past.”

“The last time I was here, you were pretty out of it. I thought you’d like some company, but if I was wrong...”

“Yeah, you were wrong. Unless you’re interested in cheating on that husband of yours.” A smirk pulls up the unhurt side of his lips, the already lopsided movement appearing even more so.

My jaw drops open, a hot flush racing across my skin. “ Fiancé,” I spit. “And you’re the last person I’d ever even consider cheating on him with.”

Spencer looks like he’s sucked on a lemon.

The door behind me glides open, a nurse popping in, and the heated argument surrounding us fizzles into thin air. “It’s time to get up and walk.”

I sidestep the nurse to let her through and watch as she grabs his walker from against the wall. Keeping my attention on anything but him allows me a second to cool down.

“Good timing,” Spencer mutters to the nurse. “We were just finishing up our visit. ”

This man! A petulant scowl steals across my face. I manage to wipe it clean before the nurse turns around.

He wants to be a bully? He forgets that we used to play the same games.

“Actually, could I take him? We weren’t quite done catching up.”

“That’d be wonderful.” The nurse smiles. “It’s so nice to see you with a visitor. Lord knows this place can get lonely.”

I shoot him a challenging look from across the room, daring him to say he’s had enough visitors for one hospital stay.

“You should really be going.” Wrapping his palms around the handles of the walker, Spencer glares as he heaves himself upright.

“One lap.” My gaze never leaves his as I lay out my terms.

“A half hour would be nice.” The nurse smiles sweetly at him. “He really needs to stretch his legs.”

Ha! How do you like them apples?

He slides up beside me at the door.

“After you.” I sweep my hand in a gesture for him to leave the room.

Girl, what are you doing!?

I worry my lip between my teeth as Spencer pushes the walker out the door, using the time with his back to me to let my guard drop. My hands twist together, pulling on the rubber gloves in a nervous gesture.

I should have sought out my backbone and told Spencer where to shove his crappy attitude. Lord knows I don’t usually tolerate letting anyone walk all over me.

But something about Spencer is different. He always has been. It’s why he was able to sweet-talk me into bed when I’d been holding out for so long. The truth is I was madly, deeply in love with him, and I thought I had enough reassurance that he was serious about that next step with me to let my guard down.

Clearly, I was a fool.

But like I’ve done many, many nights since that day, I remind myself that if Spencer hadn’t left, I wouldn’t have met Oliver’s dad, which means I wouldn’t have Ollie.

And not one damn thing in the world could make me regret having my son.

Especially not Spencer fucking Stone.

I fix my face, plastering on a more neutral expression and follow him out the door. The nurse fitted him with a belt around his waist to help me catch him if he were to fall. As if he’d even want my help. That man would take a broken nose from the linoleum over me putting my hands on him to assist. I’d bet my next paycheck on it.

“Are you training for a marathon?” I run four days a week, yet my thighs burn with the quick pace. Spencer cruises around the burn unit like he’s going for gold.

“Faster I get my laps, faster you can leave.”

“Unless you slip and fall. That’ll sure show me.”

He stops abruptly. I get three paces ahead before I’m able to pump my own brakes.

“Your sarcasm isn’t required.”

“Isn’t it? I thought it was your love language.”

Spencer moves onward, shaking his head. The dark locks are too long on top, shifting with movement. “You must be spending time around Silas.”

I laugh at the accusation. “Only about once a week for the past fifteen or so years.”

He cocks his head. “That much, huh?”

“Minimum. Either he’s bringing me a stray or helping my brothers catch a stray or saving some poor stuck kitty from a tree or we’re meeting up for drinks at The Rocks.”

“I thought it was the fire department that takes care of that?”

I shrug. “Fairview Valley is a small town. Everyone helps where they can.”

Spencer’s pace slows the more we talk. “Wait, why is my brother bringing you strays? I thought your brothers owned the dog sanctuary.”

“They do.” I tuck a loose lock of hair behind my ear, ignoring the way Spencer’s eyes track the movement. “I’m a veterinarian. My practice is the only one in town, and I partner with the Sanctuary to offer health checks and vaccinations to their dogs. It keeps me busy on the slow days.”

Spencer’s walker rolling along fills the silence between us.

He clears his throat. “Do, uh, do you like it?”

“I love it,” I murmur without pause. I peer at him curiously from the corner of my eye. He studies the ground beneath his feet as we walk.

Is he thinking about the same thing I am? Does he remember lying in that bed together, an hour, no, two, three, four hours after we finished exploring our bare skin, just two crazy kids staring at the ceiling and talking about life? Does he remember the way I laughed and covered my face as I admitted out loud that I wanted to become a vet?

Does he remember the way he gently pried my arm away from my face and rolled me to my back so that he could lean over me? How he kissed me once to shut me up before pulling back to gaze down at me?

Does he remember that he was the first person I told and the first person to believe in me, even before I believed in myself?

I blink against the harsh light as I come back to the present.

Probably not.

“I knew you’d do it.” His voice is so quiet I nearly miss it.

I lick my lips, startled by his quiet confirmation. “Yeah.”

“Proud of you.”

He knows . He freaking knows what those words mean to me. “Thanks,” I say hoarsely.

“Made something good out of yourself.”

God, Spence. I blink harshly. “I did. My son was my biggest motivation. I mostly did it for him.”

The walker strikes the metal door plate running across the floor, and Spencer trips.

I act without thinking. I grip the belt around his waist in both hands and haul him up flush against my body. My heart races. Both from the near fall and his proximity. The hard planes of his torso press against mine, replacing old memories. He’s bigger now. Stronger. More rugged.

He grips my waist for support, steadying himself with our faces only inches apart.

Those blue eyes I used to lose myself in find mine, and he scans my face almost as if he’s trying to commit it to memory.

“Nothing wrong with chasing your dreams for yourself.” His deep voice sweeps across my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

“I—ah.” I shake my head, clearing away the foggy haze. “Are you all right?”

The walker clacks sharply against the floor as he straightens. My waist feels cold as his touch slips away to grip the handles. “I’m fine.”

I roll my shoulders to chase away the sudden chill. “You’re welcome.”

Spencer smirks and flicks his eyebrow high on his forehead. “Thanks.”

“You sure you’re okay? I didn’t bump your bandages or anything?”

I feel him rebuild the wall between us. “I feel great. Actually, I think I have it from here.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go on.” He jerks his head toward the elevator and lifts his hand in a wave. “My nurse is there. She’ll take over.”

Sure enough, the woman from earlier is wrapping up her conversation with her attention on us.

“I can stay. I don’t think it’s been half an hour yet.”

“You don’t want your man and your kid to worry about where you are. Get on back to your life, Cort. I’ll be okay.”

Something about the way he’s pushing me out the door feels final. I block his path and curl my fingers around the front of the walker.

“I’m not going to see you again, am I?”

He hangs his head, chin to his chest. “You might. We’ll just have to see where the wind takes us, won’t we?”

My lip twitches before giving up on a smile. “At least I get to say goodbye this time.”

“Cort, don’t.”

“It’s okay.” Emotion grips my throat. “I hope you’re well, Spencer. I’m glad you’re alive.”

He bites the inside of his cheek, hollowing out the shape.

“Goodbye, Cortney.”