BWWM: BEFORE I WAKE: A Bad Boy Billionaire Book Collection (African American Interracial Series) (357 page)

              “Um…yeah, the Doc has done a good job of filling me in.”

              “Okay then,” Dr. Matthews said. “We’re going to have you go in the back now and we’ll get this procedure started. Amara won’t be in the room during the surgery because of the sterile fields and all of that but she’ll spend some time with your mom and meet you in recovery.”

              I looked at Amara again and I just couldn’t help myself… “I can’t wait,” I said. This time I’m sure the look on my face held more meaning than before. Mom elbowed me again. I was going to need surgery on my ribs. Amara gave me a shy smile and looked at my mom.

              “Mrs. Hanks, would you like to join me in the waiting room?” I wonder if Mom knows how lucky she is. Mom stood up and then leaned down to kiss my cheek.

              “I love you, Jack. I’ll see you in a bit.”

              “Okay, don’t worry, Mom. I love you too.” I watched them leave the room and felt a swell of relief. Things were looking on the up and up.

AMARA

              When we got to the waiting room there was a nice looking older man with black hair and silver at the tips and pretty green eyes.

Caroline squealed at the sight of him. “Roger! What are you doing here, babe? You’re supposed to be at work.”

              He came over and put his arm around Caroline and kissed the side of her face. “I couldn’t concentrate on work. You were so worried this morning. I wanted to make sure everything was going okay.”

              Caroline looked thrilled. “Amara, this is my boyfriend, Roger. Amara is Jackson’s physical therapist.”

              Roger smiled warmly at me and shook my hand. “Pleased to meet you. It was so nice of you to come for Caroline. Jackson is just getting started but Dr. Matthews is awesome so I’m sure it will all go well.”

              We sat down as he told me, “You have quite the job in for you, Amara. Did Jackson’s mother tell you how stubborn he is?”

She elbowed him and smiled. “It runs in the family,” he said. She laughed.

              “Mrs. Hanks…”

              “Amara please call me Caroline.”

              “Caroline, thank you. Has Jackson or the doctor gone over with you what he’s facing from here on out?”

              “Vaguely, I’m not sure if you have any children…but even as grown-ups they’re not all that forthcoming with details.”

              I laughed. “That, I can identify with. I have a daughter and I pick her up from school every day and try to get out of her what the day was like. The most I ever get is ‘fine’ or ‘I can’t remember’ or ‘Becky has a new doll, can I have one?’ Very little.”

              Laughing, she said, “I always wanted a daughter. Jackson was only eight when his father died. Before he got sick we’d talked a lot about having another child…but life happened…” she looked sad and I saw Roger reach over and squeeze her thigh lovingly.

              “I’m sorry to hear about Jackson’s father.”

              She smiled at me, sadly. “He was only thirty-four. He had aggressive small cell carcinoma in his lungs. He never smoked a day in his life, but he was in the Navy and the doctor seemed to think it was something he may have encountered on one of his deployments that caused it. Either way, it was tough. Jackson and I did okay though. Thank God I had him.”

              “Wow yeah, I’m afraid I can identify there as well. Nala’s father died overseas in Afghanistan. If not for her I’m not sure I could have made it through.”

              “Oh Amara, I’m so sorry!”

              I smiled at her. I felt kind of like I’d met a kindred soul. “Would you like to see a picture of my baby?”

              “I’d love to,” she said with real enthusiasm.

I took out my phone and for the next fifteen minutes we looked at Nala. My baby girl had a way of always raising my spirits. It seemed like she did the same for Caroline. When we finally ran out of photos she said, “She is so pretty, just like her mother. You’re truly blessed.”

              “I think so too,” I said. “And so are you. I could tell that you and Jackson seem to have a great relationship.”

              “They do,” Roger piped in. “I was worried when we first started dating and I found out her son was the light heavyweight champion.”

              Caroline laughed and said, “You were not.”

              “
I
wa
s
, honestly,” he said with a wink in my direction. “But it turned out that all he wants is to see his mother happy…so we have the same goal.” They were adorable together. It was what I hoped for when Nala was older.

For now, I contented myself with being Mama. Time for me would come later and she fulfilled me so much that I was okay with that. Okay…most of the time I was okay with that.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t notice Jackson’s blue eyes or the way he looked at me. He was tall and immediately striking. Even in crutches, he moved with the grace of a seasoned athlete, a man used to commanding the attention of a stadium. A wave of golden strands had fallen loose from behind his ear when he’d nodded and I swear I’ve never seen a man so beautiful.

              I jolted back into the moment. It’s better to stay focused on the treatment. “So let me tell you what Jackson and I will be working on as soon as he’s up to it….”

              I spent the next hour telling her about post-surgical PT and what Jackson was looking forward to. Caroline had a lot of good questions and it helped pass the time answering them. I hadn’t realized how much time had passed when the surgical nurse stuck her head out the door and said, “Mrs. Hanks?”

Caroline stood up and the nurse said, “Dr. M will be out soon to talk to you but I wanted to let you know he’s in recovery and he did great. Amara, you can come back now and as soon as he’s good and awake we’ll let you know too, Mrs. Hanks.”

              “Thank you so much,” Caroline told her.

As I followed the nurse back I felt a tickle of anticipation in my belly. It was silly really. I love my job and my clients, but I don’t recall ever being this excited to see one. I shook my head at my own silliness…I didn’t even like fighters. As a matter of fact, I despised violence altogether. My husband was killed in war…

              “Here we go Amara, he’s in room two. I’ll be back to take his vitals again in a few minutes. He’s in and out of it,” the nurse told me.

              “Thanks Carrie.” I pushed in the door and saw him lying there.

He still had on his paper hat but long tendrils of that silky blonde hair were sticking out underneath it. His eyes were closed and I noticed how peaceful he looked, a far cry from the violent fighter he was rumored to be. He sure had a beautiful face for someone who beat people up a lot. Maybe that’s why he’s so good. Dr. Matthews had told me he was some kind of a champion or other…maybe he fought so well to protect that pretty face.

I heard him groan and I moved over closer to the bed. “Jackson? It’s Amara, your... therapist. Are you okay? Are you in pain?”

His eyelids fluttered open and suddenly those sky blue eyes were looking at me. O
r
into m
e
rather. We both stilled, just watching each other. I could tell he recognized me but he didn’t say a word. Just watched me.

I suddenly felt vulnerable. One corner of his mouth pulled slowly into a smile. It was a crooked, medicated smile…but it was gorgeous.

              “Nah, I’m tough,” he said, his voice thick and breathy with weariness. His eyes closed again but he fluttered them back open and looked directly at me.

              “God… You’re really pretty…”

Then he closed them again and I think he went back to sleep. My whole body was flushed warm by his words. I’m so silly…but damn it made me happy for him to say I was pretty.

It wasn’t like I’d never gotten hit on by my patients before. We spend a lot of time together. I always, diplomatically turn them down. For some reason I got a feeling that if Jackson ever asked…I would have a hell of a time turning him down.

              “How’s our patient?” Carrie asked, pushing back in the door.

              “He woke up briefly. He says he’s not in pain, but he groaned before he knew I was here.”

              “Tough guy, huh?” Carrie said.

              I smiled and said, “That’s exactly what he said when I asked him
,
I’m tough.”

              “Well, we will give him something anyways, just to take the edge off after I get his vitals.”

I stepped back and watched her pull up the sleeve of his hospital gown to wrap the blood pressure cuff around his arm. She was using the extra-large cuff and it was easy to see why. His bicep, even at rest was bulging. He had a tattoo that looped around it and trailed down his left arm. I had this incredible urge to trace it with my fingers and my heart raced in my chest
.
Damn Amara
!
It’s been too long, I guess. My hormones were on double time today.

              After Carrie finished with him, I pulled a chair up and waited for him to wake up.

When he did, I was greeted with another soft smile. “Still here, beautiful?”

I think I blushed. My face was hot all of a sudden. “Pretty flirty for a guy who just went under the knife.”

              “It’s your fault,” he said with a small grin.

              I rolled my eyes. I’m sure a guy like him is a world class player. It’s something I don’t have time for in my life, that’s for sure…no matter how gorgeous he is. I stood and glanced down at him. I knew that under the sheets was a no doubt a powerful man but right now he looked tired and anxious.

“How are you feeling, honestly?” I said, softly.

              “It hurts, a little,” he said with a frown. I think that was the first true statement I got all day. “But I’ll live. I’m ready to rehab.”

I smiled. “I’m going to take off soon. I’ll let your mom and Roger come in to see you…”

              “Roger’s here?”

              “Yeah, he left work because he was worried about your mom. I thought it was really sweet.”

              “Yeah, they’re kind of sickening,” he said, but I could see the fondness in his eyes.

He reached up to the railing to brush my fingers. “I... don’t want you to go.”

              Shaking my head at him I said, “You’re going to be seeing so much of me soon that you’ll be sick of me too, Jack.”

              “Not unless they removed my heart and brain too.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief and I couldn’t help but smile as I turned away. Once again, my whole body was alive with heat, honed in on that small place where we touched. I needed to get out of there right. now.

              “Get some rest and I’ll look forward to seeing you Monday morning at the center.”

“I can’t wait,” he said, like he was seriously looking forward to the rehab. I hope he knew that it wasn’t going to be fun and games.

              “Good. I’ll see you then.” Without thinking I patted his forearm and my stupid hand rested there.              

“Amara…” His eyes looked into me and I wanted to run. They were warm and sweet.

“Thank you,” he said, sincerely.

              I gave him a smile. Who could help it? “You’re welcome. I’ll see you soon.”

I left then with everything inside of me feeling like hot, molten lava. I would have to spend the entire weekend convincing myself that I wasn’
t
reall
y
attracted to blonde, blue-eyed rock hard alphas. I sighed. Yeah, right.

***

              By the time I picked up my sweet baby girl at preschool and we got home, it was close to seven already. I was able to shake the images of Jackson and his biceps and tattoos off at least while I made her dinner and we discussed Becky’s new shoes over chicken and rice.

              “They light up?” I asked her.

              “Yes! All over!” Her brown eyes were full of excitement.

              “Not just on bottom?”

              “No Mom, I promise! They have lights in the toes even!”

              I laughed. “They sound amazing. Where did she get them?”

              “From the store!”

              “Oh…okay, how much did they cost?”

              She shrugged. “We can get some money from that machine at the bank though. That should be enough.”

              I laughed again. God, I love her. “We’ll see baby. Maybe for your birthday. It’s coming up soon.”

              “Okay,” she said, reluctantly. “Can I have chocolate cake?”

              “For your birthday?”

              “No, right now.” Ah…the fickle mind of a four year old. I got up and sliced a piece of the cake our neighbor Mrs. Palacios had brought over. She loves Nala and she’s always giving her sweets. I have to dole them out one bite or piece at a time.