Farrah Rochon - Forever's Promise

Her beautiful dark brown eyes became murderous as she stepped up to him.

“Look, you egotistical asshole. I can’t speak for the other women in this town, but let me make one thing clear. Meeting you was the last thing on my mind when I stepped into this E.R. I didn’t even know you would be in this E.R. Do you really think I would endanger my own niece on the off chance that you might be working today?”

Her chest rose and fell with the sharp breaths she sucked in following her fiery tirade. Rage had her nostrils flaring, those brown eyes intense and full of fury.

It was a magnificent sight to behold.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” she said, “but you are not all that, Dr. Wright. Not even close.”

She looked him up and down, as if he was a nasty wad of gum she’d found stuck to the bottom of her shoe.

“I’m sorry,” Xavier started. “I—”

She put her hand up. “Save it. And do not follow me back to that exam room. I don’t want you anywhere near my niece.”

Xavier tried to speak, but found himself at a loss for words as he watched her stomp back to the exam room.

He also found himself slightly aroused.

The realization came as such a shock that, for a moment, it left him paralyzed, unable to do anything but stare at the faux-wood exam room door that had just shut behind her. He should be appalled by his body’s reaction.

Instead, Xavier briefly closed his eyes and soaked in the feeling.

It had been so damn long since he’d felt anything. He needed to savor this. He wanted to remember it when he was sitting at home, alone, trying to recall what it felt like to have that kind of passion flowing through his veins.

Chapter 2

Shayla pulled her Volvo coupe under the detached aluminum carport next to her side kitchen door, but she didn’t move. Instead, she let the engine idle as she continued to grip the steering wheel with both hands. There had been utter silence throughout the entire twenty-minute drive from the hospital in Maplesville. She’d spent most of the ride sending up prayers of thanks that Kristi’s condition had turned out to be nothing serious.

She’d spent the remainder of the ride trying to quell her rage over that cocky E.R. doctor and the ridiculous conclusion he’d jumped to. As if she would ever do something so desperate.

Her annoyance only grew when she realized he must be the new doctor all the teachers were foaming at the mouth over at The Jazzy Bean earlier that day. No wonder Mr. Conceited had made such an outrageous assumption. After the talk she’d overheard at the coffeehouse, she wouldn’t put it past some of the women to go to such lengths.

Shayla didn’t care how gorgeous he was—and, don’t get her wrong, he was gorgeous—but she would never put her niece in danger just to score an introduction. She may have been thunderstruck by those whiskey-brown eyes the moment he’d stepped into the exam room, but she wasn’t that desperate.

After she’d put the cocky doctor in his place, they’d remained at the hospital for another half hour, until Kristi had vomited twice more. The nurse had given her fluids to guard against dehydration and sent them home with instructions to give her Gatorade and keep the egg dye out of children’s reach.

Someone shouldn’t have had to tell her that. It should have been a given. As excited as they were about dyeing the eggs, she should have known the girls would do something like this.

But, then again, what did she know about kids?

“You are so in over your head,” she muttered. Shayla released a deep, tired breath as she cut the engine and opened the door.

She went to the back passenger side and unstrapped a sleeping Kristi from her car seat. Hefting the toddler into her arms, Shayla whispered to Cassidy, “Let’s get in the house.”

She recoiled at the thought of having to reprimand her niece, but Shayla knew it had to be done. She’d given specific instructions that the dye was not to be touched until she woke up. It was bad enough that they’d disobeyed, but being the eldest, Cassidy should have known better than to allow her little sister to put the dye anywhere near her mouth.

Of course, the ultimate responsibility fell to her. She was the adult in charge. It didn’t matter that she was tired enough to fall asleep this very second; she should have been paying attention to the girls, not napping.

Shayla carried Kristi into the guest bedroom and undressed her, taking care not to wake her. She used a warm washcloth to wipe her down, then took a page from Gayle’s book and dressed her in the old, worn USC Trojans T-shirt she’d had since freshman year. Other than a little squirming, Kristi hardly moved. The poor baby was exhausted. Shayla could sympathize.

When she returned to the kitchen, Cassidy was sitting at the table, picking at the bright blue fingernail polish she’d painted on this past Saturday during their pamper party—another of Shayla’s attempts to connect with her nieces. Only the light above the stove illuminated the room.

“Do you want some juice?” Shayla asked, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard and a bottle of cranberry juice from the refrigerator. Cassidy shook her head, but Shayla filled the glass halfway and set it in front of her, anyway.

She took the chair opposite her niece, placed both elbows on the table and massaged her temples. She wasn’t even sure how to begin this conversation.

Since she’d returned to Gauthier with some half-formed idea to help her sister-in-law raise her nieces, she could count on her fingers the number of times Cassidy had spoken to her without considerable prompting. Over the past three days, she’d opened up several times, even joining Shayla and Kristi in an impromptu karaoke concert Saturday night. Shayla didn’t want to hinder the small bit of progress she’d made with Cassidy by coming down on her with a heavy lecture.

But she couldn’t allow what had happened tonight to just slide. She wasn’t here to make friends with an eight-year-old; she was here to help raise her. Disciplinarian was part of the job description.

“Cass, didn’t I tell you that we would dye the eggs later?” Shayla started.

Pulling her trembling bottom lip between her teeth, Cassidy nodded.

“Your sister could have been seriously hurt if those dyes were toxic. You know better than to put them in your mouth, but Kristi doesn’t. This could have been very, very bad, Cassidy.”

Dread cascaded down Shayla’s spine just thinking about what could have happened. Goodness, how did parents do this 24/7 for eighteen years? It had been just over three days and she was ready to climb the walls.

“Promise me you won’t disobey in the future,” Shayla said.

“I promise,” Cassidy mumbled. The dour frown on her face told Shayla that the little headway she’d made in softening Cass’s feelings toward her had just evaporated. Great.

“Why don’t you get ready for bed,” Shayla said. “You have school tomorrow, and it’s already past your bedtime.”

Cass remained stoic as she rose and lumbered down the narrow hallway toward the bedrooms. Shayla remained at the kitchen table, sipping her cranberry juice and trying to talk herself out of adding vodka to the glass. She’d messed up once already tonight. She knew better than to render herself completely incapacitated by drinking alcohol while the girls were still under her watch.

She set the glass on the table and covered her face with both hands.

“What in the hell have you gotten yourself into?”

She had never been the type to make rash decisions. Her careful, methodical thinking had taken her from being a lowly junior marketing assistant to the executive director of community relations at one of the country’s largest coffeehouse chains. Yet she’d succumbed to the impulsive decision to return to her hometown, turning her once well-ordered life completely upside down. What on earth had possessed her to do that?