Erin Kern - Along Came Trouble

“In a heartbeat.”

The muscles in Tyler’s throat worked as he swallowed. “But couldn’t I just stay here with you?”

Brody offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I don’t know if your mom would go for that. Wouldn’t you miss her?”

“Yeah,” Tyler responded as he lowered his head. He picked up the baseball and turned the thing around in his hands. “But I would miss you too. I miss you all the time.”

Ah shit, now he was going to cry. Tyler had been cursed with Brody’s inability to express himself. The boy was just as closed off as his father was and rarely said things like that. In the past Brody would have to pry, like pulling teeth, to get his son to admit to anything.

How long had Tyler been carrying this around? Since the divorce?

“Hey,” he said to the boy, who kept his attention on the ball. “You’re my only son and I love you more than anything in this world. Nothing will ever change that. Not a few miles and not a million miles.” He nudged Tyler’s shoulder. “Got it?”

This was probably the deepest the two of them had ever gotten with each other. It felt damn good, and Brody promised himself he would always make a concerted effort to be this open with his son.

“Yeah, I got it,” Tyler said. “Can we come here again tomorrow?”

“Absolutely,” Brody said with a smile. “I’ll tell you what. Why don’t I talk to your mom about you spending one more day a week with me, and we can come out here and toss the ball around?”

A glimmer of a smile touched his son’s lips. “But don’t you have to work?”

“You’re right, I do have to work. But I can always cut back.” He kissed Tyler’s soft hair. “You’re worth it.”

“Do you think Mom will go for that?” he asked in a tentative voice.

“Let me worry about Mom.”

Nothing would come between him and Tyler again.

Never again.

The fluorescent, utilitarian lights of the hospital were like a thousand nails piercing his skull. Nurses and doctors marched from room to room, taking care of one patient and the next like items on a checklist.

RJ didn’t pay any attention to them because they didn’t pay attention to him. Nor did they pay attention to the grieving and worried families who had loved ones fighting for their lives. The doctors kept their heads bent over their clipboards as though the words were more important than the human lives they were attending to.

They had a job to do, RJ understood that. But once upon a time, when he still believed in happy endings, he’d trusted doctors to save a very important life. And they’d failed.

They were dangerously close to failing again.

He moved down the starkly lit hallway with long, purposeful strides toward Courtney’s room. His sister’s condition hadn’t changed much over the past few days. She was still nonresponsive, still lying peacefully in her bed as though taking a nap. Any minute he expected her to open those big eyes of hers and give him shit about something. Or maybe make some wiseass remark about the tasteless food. Anything was better than this, than her being so utterly still that she could have been dead.

As he neared her room, he heard a woman’s voice. Not the nurses and not the two women standing outside the room next to Courtney’s.

No, he would know this voice anywhere. It had haunted him for far too many years. Almost to the point of insanity, and he’d had to take drastic measures to keep his head on straight. Unfortunately, he’d been unable to quarantine himself from Rebecca Underwood indefinitely. They always crossed paths even in the damn hospital, no matter how hard he tried to stay away from her. She always trumped his efforts. The woman was damn crafty.

He came to a stop at Courtney’s room but didn’t enter. Instead, he leaned against the jamb and watched Rebecca speaking to his sister, as though Courtney could hear and understand every word. Hell, maybe she could. He’d heard people say that it helped to talk to coma patients.

His time at the hospital was limited, but he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt. So he stood, unseen, and listened to Rebecca’s soft, muted voice. She was telling some kind of story, one he had no recollection of. Not that it mattered. Even if he did have a clue what she was talking about, he wouldn’t have paid attention.

Exhaustion had her shoulders slumped in her boxy, completely unsexy dark brown sweater. The thing hung halfway to her knees, which were covered in a pair of black leggings. Now those were sexy, because they were like shrink wrap on her amazingly fantastic legs. In that instant an image flashed through his mind, one of her and those legs, only they were bare and cradling his hips with mind-numbing perfection.

No .

He shoved the memory away as fast as it had formed.

This was why he needed to stay away from her. Her mere presence muddled his brain.

She continued on with her rambling story. How did he keep running into her? Over the past few months, he’d done well to steer clear of Rebecca, for the simple fact that he didn’t trust himself around her. Now, all of a sudden, she was everywhere he turned.

Like the other night, when he’d driven Court home. He’d hoped the late hour would have worked in his favor, and his sister’s roommate would have been in bed already. Apparently the stars had not been in alignment for him that night. And not only had she’d been there, but she’d been dressed like some… well, like something he would be having fantasies about for a long time. Her teeny-tiny cotton shorts had left those sexy, creamy legs bare. And her matching tank top had barely been able to hold her breasts from spilling out all over the place. After slapping eyes on her, he thought he would bust a nut in his pants.

He hadn’t been able to get out of the house fast enough, because her vanilla lotion, or whatever the hell girly shit she’d slathered on herself, had just about brought him to his knees. No amount of jacking off would have been able to exorcise her from his brain. After leaving his sister’s house, he’d gone straight to see Nicole, a woman he’d been seeing off and on for about six months. His and Nicole’s relationship was pure sex, and she opened the door for him without question. Not that he would have offered a reason anyway. Their time together had never gotten that deep.

Luckily for him, Nicole liked her sex rough and had stamina that damn near outlasted his. Unluckily for him, the hours of sex and a cold shower still couldn’t keep him from thinking of Rebecca. The woman had wormed her way under his skin and created a nice little home for herself.

He was so fucked.

As though sensing his presence, Rebecca stopped her story and turned her head to look at him. She pinned him with those green eyes that always seemed to see right through him. As though she knew he was full of shit and was ready to call him on it.

Her red hair, which had always intrigued him with its wild mass of curls, was loose around her shoulders. He knew from firsthand experience how deceptively soft the corkscrew curls were. That was another thing that had been torturing him for too damn long.

She narrowed her eyes at him. It was a look he was all too familiar with. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough,” he said, letting her think he’d listened to every word of her story. Maybe if he was a big enough of a bastard to her, she would stay far away from him. It would be for her own good anyway.

A flicker of doubt flashed in her eyes.

See? She always knows you’re full of shit .

“It helps to talk,” she said with a glance at Courtney. “It stimulates her brain and can lead to a response. Even if it’s just a twitch of a finger.” She looked back at him. “It could help her recover faster.”