Fighting Back (Fighting For Love Book 5) Page 3

  “I know,” Nick said again, just as the door flew open. “I know I do.”

  Both men turned and sure enough, Mia was standing there. Her chestnut-brown hair sparkled warm blonde and a bit red in the summer sun, and it fell around her face in disheveled waves. She was panting – clearly she’d dashed at breakneck speed from the cafeteria – and her face was pink.

  Right away, Nick flashed back to all the times that she’d come for him, moaning his name so damn sweetly, writhing under his possessive touch: she always looked like this then. Messy hair, gasping for breath, lips parted and cheeks flushed.

  She’d never looked more beautiful to him than she did in this moment, though.

  “Nick,” she said between gulps of air. “You’re awake.”

  Quick as a blink, Will was on his feet and squeezing past her.

  “I’ll let you two have some privacy,” he said. “Let us know when you want more visitors, Nick.”

  Nick nodded, but he didn’t take his eyes off Mia for even one second. As soon as his Dad shut the door, Mia stepped forward. Then – hesitant if he wanted her close, if he needed some distance after what had just happened to him – she paused.

  “How are you, babe?” she said, knowing even as she asked that it was a damn stupid question.

  Holding her eyes the whole time, Nick stretched out his hand to her and she came. She reached the bed, and then – without uttering a single word – he tugged her down. She fell hard and without any grace whatsoever, and she fell right on top of Nick. She gasped, terrified about hurting him. Her hands were braced on his broad chest and she pushed against all that strength and heat, trying to put some space between them.

  “Nick!” She struggled to stand up again, but he wrapped his muscled arm around her waist and held her in place. “Careful! I’m going to jostle you…”

  “It’s fine,” he whispered. “C’mere, Mia. I want to hold you.”

  “But…”

  “No ‘buts’, angel. Please.” His gray eyes were heartbreakingly tender as he looked up at her from his reclined position, his blond hair so dark against the white pillow case. “I need to hold you.”

  Hearing it in his voice, Mia stopped trying to pull away. Nick – her sweet, strong Nick – never showed much emotion. Oh, he was affectionate and gentle out of bed; in bed, he was passionate and generous and sexy as sin. When his life was going well, he told her he loved her, he told her that she was beautiful, he told her that she was his everything.

  But as soon as his life hit a bump and veered off-course, Nick shut down.

  Never in her entire time on earth had she met a man who needed control the way that he did. From the very beginning, Mia had thought him focused, disciplined, almost overwhelmingly physical. She loved those things about him, loved them desperately… but she couldn’t kid herself that in times of crisis, those things reached a tipping point in the man that she adored. And when they did, he drew back in and on himself. He just shut down and shut the world out, and he grappled with whatever it was until he had beaten it down into the dirt.

  And when he did, he shut her out. Each and every time.

  This time, though… this time, Nick was open. He was vulnerable. He was needy.

  He needed her. And damned if she was going to deny him what he needed.

  Without another murmur of protest, Mia sank down on him. She turned her face into his corded neck, felt those incredible arms wrap around her entire body. It felt damn good, but what happened next felt even better: Nick gave a shuddering sigh, shut his eyes, and buried his face against her throat.

  In that single act, he gave over to her – just gave over completely, and she knew it.

  Stunned at what he was willing to show her, what he was trusting her with, Mia lay still. Didn’t move a muscle, barely breathed, stayed silent. She just held him, and let him hold her.

  Time stopped then, as Mia lay in Nick’s embrace. His grip tightened around her and her fingers curled around his hospital robe, pulling him as close as possible. And for just a little while, they both forgot what was coming. They just breathed.

  They breathed together.

  After about ten minutes, Mia felt him shift his weight, and she lifted her head to meet his eyes. When she saw the pain in them, she stiffened in worry and quickly pulled away.

  “No,” he rasped, hating how empty his arms felt all of a sudden. “Stay, babe.”

  “You’re hurting,” she replied, not even bothering to phrase it as a question. “I’m going to get the doctor.”

  “Not yet,” he said. “First, I want to tell you something.”

  “Nick.” Mia tried to sit up, tried to move away, but once again, his upper body strength was nothing that she could even attempt to match. Even hurting and recovering from surgery, his physical power was enormous. “I need to get the doctor…”

  “No.” He shook his head, so fierce and determined. “You need to stay. Just for a minute, angel. Please.”

  The man had said ‘please’ twice in just a few minutes, and seeing as until this point in their relationship, he’d said it maybe that many times in a whole year, Mia paused. It seemed that Nick needing her was her kryptonite, and she lacked all ability to resist or fight that need.

  “OK,” she said at last. “But talk fast. I don’t want you in pain for longer than you have to be.”

  That gorgeous mouth quirked up in a devastating smile and she was suddenly beating back the primal urge to kiss him, deep and hard. Reminding herself that post-surgery wasn’t an ideal sexy-time but still feeling the need for physical contact, she reached out and touched his full lips.

  “What is it?” she asked softly. “What do you want to say?”

  “I love you.”

  Mia smiled back at him. “I love you too. Was that it? Can I get the doctor now?”

  “No,” he growled.

  “Alright.”

  “I fucked up, babe.”

  “You – what?” She blinked. “You…”

  “I fucked up.” Nick’s voice was rough now, though his hands on her body were nothing but careful. “Not telling you from the very beginning what was going on with me was a big mistake, and I’m sorry.”

  “We’ve talked about this, Nick. It’s OK –”

  “It’s not OK, Mia, and don’t you ever tell me that it was. I damn near lost you by keeping secrets, and I just want you to know this: I’ve learned my lesson.” He stroked some tumbled curls off her face, his fingertips loving her smooth skin. “I know that what’s coming is gonna be hard and tough as hell, but I’m making you a promise right here and right now. I promise to never, ever shut you out again. I promise to tell you everything, and even though it may take me some time to find the words, I will find them. Just – just don’t give up on me while I’m stumbling around searching for the words, alright? I’m not going anywhere and I’m asking you not to, either. I’m gonna fight for you – for us – and I need you to know that, babe. More than that, I need you to believe it.”

  Mia’s eyes filled with tears and he saw them. Stunned, his fingers moved to catch them as they rolled down her face.

  “You’re crying,” he breathed. “At last. Mia…”

  “I’m sorry.” She lowered her gaze, feeling like a weak, pathetic woman. Why was she crying when he was the one who’d just lost a leg? “I never wanted you to see me like this.”

  “But I wanted to,” he said. “For the past three weeks, I’ve wanted to comfort you.”

  “No. That wasn’t your place. Not with what you had to cope with.”

  “If it wasn’t my place, then whose was it?” He smiled again, trying to get her to smile back. “Seems we’ve both been holding back some stuff from each other, huh, little sunflower?”

  Startled at hearing his most rarely-used and sweetest endearment, she stared at him, her tears forgotten. Nick h
ad a point, actually, didn’t he?

  OK, sure, he’d withheld some pretty crucial information from her, and that wasn’t even a debatable point. But after he’d finally come clean and told her the truth, she’d withheld too, hadn’t she? She’d hidden herself away from him behind a thick, high wall; hidden behind her laptop and her research; hidden her shrieking, aching terror behind a fake-calm face. She’d pretended and she’d concealed – and she’d denied him the chance to help and support her when she’d needed him the most.

  She’d done to Nick exactly what he’d done to her.

  Dammit. She really had.

  “Oh,” she sighed. “Yeah. You’re right. God, we deserve each other.”

  “I certainly hope so,” he said, right before his huge hand wrapped around the nape of her neck and he tugged her lips down to his.

  Starved for the taste of him, her longing for him larger and stronger than her own caution and concern, Mia responded fully. The kiss was blazing and tender at the same time, sweet and also feral. It was pure Nick and as she kissed him back, she made him every promise that she’d failed to either ask for or keep. She promised him honesty, and trust, and openness.

  She promised him better than she had been. She promised that she was going to fight and work like hell for them to make it.

  When he pulled back, whispering her name and telling her how much he loved her, Mia kept her eyes shut, just for a few seconds longer. She needed these perfect, shining seconds before she opened her eyes and faced what was now in front of them.

  Grueling physical therapy. A prosthetic that had to be perfect for Nick’s body, height, and weight. Nick learning how to walk all over again. Both of them figuring out how to be together and yes, how to be intimate.

  So hell yeah, Mia was going to cherish these last few, precious seconds before reality came crashing on down and in. Before she had to open her eyes and get up off this bed and go get the doctor.

  The seconds passed and she held them close and tight, then she opened her hands and she let them go. Just let that old life drift away into the oceans of the past; just let herself turn and scan the horizon of the future.

  “Mia.”

  She heard the worry in that single word, and she opened her eyes now.

  “Mia. Angel, you alright?”

  “Yes.” She pushed her fingers through his messy hair. “I’m great, babe… and I believe you. I know you’re going to fight for us just as hard as I am.”

  Relief flashed across that handsome face, the face that she wanted to wake up to every morning for the rest of her life.

  “Yeah?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I promise.” She dropped a tiny kiss on his forehead, kissing him in all his strength and need. “Now. I’m really going to get the doctor, and no stopping me with kisses.”

  This time, he opened his arms and he let her go, knowing for sure that she’d be back.

  Chapter Three

  Two days later

  Katie forced herself to stay in the kitchen for exactly three minutes. Then she dashed back to the bathroom and grabbed the stick from the counter next to the sink.

  And…

  One line. One goddamn line.

  She stared down at the home pregnancy test, happy that she’d decided to wait until Adam had gone to the gym to do this. She knew that he wanted to be a father more than he wanted anything on earth… and the sight of yet another negative test would upset him deeply. This was the fifth negative test in four months, after all.

  Yeah, sure, he’d put on a brave face and kiss her, tell her that they’d keep trying. He’d probably crack a joke about how much fun he was having with all the trying – and the whole time, Katie would see the hurt in his hard blue eyes.

  Hurt that she’d caused by letting him down again. By failing.

  She sighed, tossed the test in the garbage, then crumpled up some toilet paper and covered the test with it. She didn’t want Adam seeing it later and asking any questions.

  Katie stared at herself in the mirror, thinking about Dr. Alicia Reed, the fertility specialist that she’d found five weeks earlier. The week before, she’d secretly gone and gotten tested, and she had her follow-up appointment scheduled for the next day… and Katie had yet to say anything to Adam about any of it, even though she desperately wanted him to come with her. She needed him there when she got the news that she feared the most.

  The news that she was unable to get pregnant naturally. That maybe she couldn’t even get pregnant with treatments.

  OK, yes. It was possible that maybe the problem was with Adam somehow. It was also possible that there was actually no problem whatsoever, that both of them were one-hundred-percent OK and able to conceive, and it was all just a matter of time.

  But deep inside, Katie knew the truth. The problem was her. She had no idea what was wrong with her… but something was. It was her fault.

  Everything was always her fault.

  She sighed again, more sadly this time, and pulled her long black hair back off her pale face. She knew that in the grand scheme of things, being unable to get pregnant naturally wasn’t the end of the world, and she felt horribly selfish when she locked herself in the bathroom and cried about it.

  For God’s sake, look at Nick and Mia; look at Maggie; look at Reena. Every single one of her friends was going through – or had just gone through – something way more devastating than not being able to get knocked up by the man that they loved. Maggie had just lost her Mom, Reena had just been dragged through hell in trial, and Nick and Mia… well. They were struggling with something so hard, Katie’s head spun to think about it.

  So Katie didn’t get pregnant the first time that she and Adam tried. Or the second. Or the fiftieth. Fine. No biggie. There were worse things than this, and she’d do well to remember that.

  Tears threatened but she stomped down on them pretty damn decisively. In her head, she chanted her new mantra, the one that she repeated pretty much constantly lately:

  No crying. No crying. No goddamn crying.

  With grim determination – and almost as a self-dare – she lined her dark-brown eyes with dark-brown eyeliner. She paused, narrowed her eyes at herself, liberally applied mascara. Two coats.

  Fuck crying.

  **

  Maggie glanced up from working on the apsara sculpture to see Joe entering her studio. As always, he was weighed down with bags; as always, she smelled something amazing coming from those bags.

  She gave him a wide smile in greeting, thinking that his blue eyes were exactly the same color as the summer sky outside her massive windows. “Hey.”

  “Hey, sweetness.” Carefully, he set the bags of food on the counter in her tiny kitchen, crossed the room to her. “How’s it going?”

  Maggie stared up at the goddess of air and cloud with fondness. This was the third of four sculptures to be completed for Joe’s new restaurant, and she thought that it was maybe her favorite. This one was as graceful and curvy as the first two, but she also had a strong, sassy kind of tilt to her head and hips. She looked like a bit of a kickass apsara, actually, not even a tiny bit demure or shy. In fact, she had the bearing and dignity of a fighter and a survivor.

  Not for the first time, Maggie wondered if her art wasn’t just a complicated form of therapy, a way for her to work out her feelings and thoughts in a visible, concrete way. Well, so what if it was? It was healthier than letting things stew and fester, God knows, and it was cheaper than therapy. In fact, seeing as this commission for Joe was in the six-digit range, Maggie was actually being paid to work through all her emotional stuff.

  “Good,” she said. “I figure she’ll be done in about three weeks. Maybe four.”

  “Excellent.” Joe came up behind her and took Maggie in his large arms. He moved her brown curls so that they draped over her one shoulder, then he nuzzled her sweet neck. �
�Just in time for the soft opening at the restaurant.”

  “I’m sorry I won’t have all four sculptures done by then.” Guilt twisted her stomach; she’d never missed a deadline. Never ever. “I really wanted to.”

  “Jesus, baby. It’s fine, and you know it’s fine.” Joe turned her in his arms, tipped her chin back, stared deep into her beautiful green eyes. “I don’t want you to even think about that again, yeah? Let it go, and I mean completely. I don’t care about anything except making sure you’re alright.”

  She smiled. “I am.”

  Joe studied her face, scowled a bit. “You look tired.”

  “Well…” She looked away now, but it was too late. Nothing got past the man. “I – I didn’t sleep so well last night.”

  “Why not?” he demanded.

  She stayed silent, and he took her chin in his strong fingers, made her meet his gaze again.

  “Maggie? Why not?”

  “I – I…” She shifted her weight back and forth on her bare feet, hating to say it aloud. “I had a bad dream, and after I woke up I didn’t go to sleep again. I just got dressed and came here.”

  “What was your dream about?”

  “You know.”

  “I do.” His husky voice was soft, but insistent. “But you need to say it out loud for me.”

  “About… my Mom. About Mom dying right in front of me.” Maggie swallowed. “The alarms going off, the tubes coming out of her body all over the place… and me in my chair, so damn powerless against it all. I couldn’t – couldn’t stop it.”

  “C’mere, baby,” Joe said roughly, hauling her close. “Right here.”

  “I’m OK, Joe…” She tried to back up, to pull away. Mortified to be so close to tears yet again. “I’m fine.”

  “Like hell you are. Stop squirming around and let me hold you.”

  “Joe…”

  He shook his dark head, held her tighter. “Stop talking.”

  The tears came now – as they always did, or so it seemed to Maggie – and she rested her face against Joe’s chest as she wept. And as always, she wondered when this pain and grief was going to ease off enough for her to breathe again.