London Falling (28 page)

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Authors: Audrey Carlan

BOOK: London Falling
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I looked up into Collier’s deep brown eyes but they weren’t his. They were his mother’s. Eleanor’s smile filled me with light and her touch made my heart beat again. The man I loved was an extension of her and I could feel his presence being so near to her. “I love him,” I admitted.

“Of course you do, sweetie. What’s not to love? My Colly is special indeed.” She pulled me into her embrace. “And look how pretty she is…my boy’s girl. Oh, I hope we get raven haired grands. Wouldn’t that be lovely, Walker,” she addressed Collier’s step-father over her shoulder. It was interesting that she called him by his last name. Maybe it was a British thing.

“Absolutely, dear,” he said in a perfect English gentleman’s response. I was happy to see him in person. Made me certain his heart attack scare was mild. Had to be if he could fly overseas a short couple of weeks after having it.

Fear must really change you. If any other woman in the world hinted to me that I would have children with their son, I might have fainted on the spot. But when this woman said it, I just accepted it. If children were in my future because Collier wanted them, I’d give them to him. As long as he was alive, I’d give him just about anything.

Once I’d cleaned myself up, it was my turn to go see Collier. I let his parents go first because they didn’t get to see him prior to surgery, having just arrived at the hospital from the airport when he went in. I also wanted to get myself together.

Oliver had sorted through my suitcase and found a pair of jeans and a blouse for me to wear. I swear, the man thought of everything. Guess that’s what made him such a good personal assistant to my sister. Hell, I’d bet a great portion of her success was due to that man. He seemed on top of every detail at all times, personal or otherwise.

I made the slow walk to Collier’s room. His sister, Ella and her husband, Ethan had just left. Ethan held onto his wife as she cried, but they both seemed happier after having seen her brother.

I entered silently and sat in the chair next to the bed, clasping his hand in mine. It was cool to the touch so I used my breath and the energy from our hands to warm it. I pressed my lips against the soft skin and silently thanked whoever would listen that this man would be okay. He’d live another day to humor, love, irritate, and cherish me. All the walls I had built around being with him crumbled and slipped away, completely forgotten. After facing losing him forever, I’d do anything to ensure he stayed in my life.

Once I’d looked my fill, touched him enough to send him healing vibes and my love, I decided it was time to see my BFF.

The second I walked around the corner, I knew exactly which room was his. It was the one the laughter and giggles came from. I rolled my eyes and entered.

Tripp’s grin as he saw me was priceless. “Bridge, come join the party. These lovely nurses were keeping me company until you got here. Aspen and Hank just left.”

I shook my head as the two bubbly nurses turned to leave, all smiles, waving at Tripp sexily and swaying their hips to and fro.

“What am I going to do with you?” I asked and sat on the space he left.

“Love me?” he ventured.

“Well yeah, that is a given. How do you feel? Really?” I pointed a brow giving him my serious look, one he knew well after years of friendship and living together.

“Truth?”

“Truth.”

“I feel like I’ve had a man digging inside my body and playing pickup sticks with my organs.”

I laughed and he grinned. “Seriously, it hurts but it’s bearable. I’m not letting them give me much in the way of pain meds aside from Ibuprofen. I’ll deal with the pain,” he said firmly.

“Worried about a relapse?”

He nodded but didn’t say anything. With me, he didn’t have to. I knew his fears. We’d both been dealing with our demons and his were drugs and feeling out of control.

“Tripp, I don’t know how to thank--“

“Bridge, don’t.” He gripped my hand and interrupted me. “You’ve saved me a hundred times over. It seems drastic but Bond is the one for you. He’s made you happier and more alive in the past few months than I’ve ever seen you. I’ve tried to put that happiness on your face. Even when we thought we could cure each other physically, nothing worked. Friendship helped. Caring for one another definitely put a huge dent in the problems in both of our lives but him…“ He paused then shook his head
.
“He’s the shit, Bridge.”

“Yeah, he kind of is.” I held both Tripp’s hands and kissed each knuckle.

“I want that for you. No one in this world deserves to be happy like you do. You’re the most honest, kind, loving woman I’ve ever known, and he sees it too. He saw it the first moment he laid eyes on you. Hell, remember how you practically jumped him in the street after barely meeting him? That told me the connection between you was like lightening, something that went through the body from start to finish and ended in the heart. I just knew he’d be around for good. The way he has been looking at you, the man is head over heels in love with my girl and I couldn’t fucking be happier.”

I snort laughed. “See, even your ugly piggy laugh is cute. Just try not to do it in front of him.” He grimaced.

“Oh shut up. You make that weird gargley sound in the back of your throat when you sleep sometimes. Sounds like you’re choking on your own spit. It’s disgusting.”

“Tell me how you really feel,” he retorted.

“I just did!”

“I love your more than anyone, Bridge.”

“I know. I love you, too.” There would be no more saying that I loved him more than anyone because it wasn’t the truth. A tall, muscular, lean, sexy Englishman with chocolate colored eyes and a roguish smile had stolen my heart and a huge portion of my love along with it.

***

The smell of cinnamon permeated the air, filling my nose with the scent of the only person I wanted to see. My Beauty.

Slowly I opened my eyes. They were blurry but I could make out a fuzzy dark shape leaning over my bed. Her hand held mine, her forehead planted along my arm. Soft snuffling sounds filled the room. She was fast asleep, hunched over my arm. London’s hair spilled over the white linens like black oil.

After a quick assessment, I found I was able to move my hand, my toes, though it hurt to do so. I couldn’t really lift up and didn’t try to. A heavy weight lay on my chest, even though nothing was there. I had no idea what had happened. The last thing I remembered was narrowly missing a cow and then barreling toward a large oak tree. The only other thing I recalled was hearing London’s voice, apologizing to me. For what, I didn’t know. I do remember she finally admitted she loved me. That I’ll never forget. And here she was, sleeping alongside me.

Once my vision cleared, I really looked at my beautiful New Yorker in all her glory. And Christ, was she beautiful. So much so that it almost hurt to look at her. Her pink, full lips were opened slightly, puffing out small bursts of air. Her button nose had a smattering of the lightest freckles, almost as if they’d been dusted on. The one thing I needed to see but couldn’t were her eyes.

People say that eyes are the windows to the soul. For me, looking into London’s eyes was like looking into my future. I wanted my children to have those eyes and that blanket of thick, dark hair.

It took a bit of effort but I slid my arm from under her head and tunneled my fingers into her lovely hair. Slowly, her eyes blinked open. When she saw I was awake her eyes opened wider and she smiled.

Tears filled those ocean eyes and leaked down the side of her face. I shook my head. “No … don’t cry.” The words were feather light, barely making a sound at all.

My Beauty bit her lip and clasped my cheek. “Would you like a drink?”

I nodded and she got a pink cup and gave me a sip of water. I sucked it down as if I was in a drinking contest.

“Better, thanks.” My voice sounded scratchy but I didn’t know why.

“What happened?”

“You remember we hit that tree, right?” I nodded and she continued. “We were taken to the hospital, and you spent the last couple of nights in a medically induced coma. Then your kidney was going to fail. You needed a transplant,” Her voice caught on that last word and I knew it was bringing up seriously painful memories for her.

“But I only had one kidney, I gave mine…“

“You donated one to your sister. Yeah, we found that out.” Her eyes squinted in what looked like irritation. “They had to add you to the national list, but your blood type is rare.”

“Yeah, B negative. So a kidney came through?”

My girl smiled wide and held my hand, bringing it to her cheek, then rubbing it against her warm skin. “Yes, one did. A living donor.”

“Huh? How? My family? Only Em and I have the same blood type.” Things were not making sense.

“It wasn’t a family member.”

The information floored me. It didn’t add up. “I don’t understand?”

“Well, all of us tried. Me, Aspen, Hank, Oliver, Dean…“

“Aspen’s pregnant. They would never let her.”

“Yeah, she was pretty pissed, too. She actually has B negative blood, but they wouldn’t operate on a pregnant woman. I think she just didn’t want to feel useless. But it turned out one person did match perfectly.”

I thought about the people in my life who would potentially be willing to donate a kidney in such short notice. Whoever it was, I sure as hell owed them a lot. My life for one.

“Tripp.”

“What about Tripp?” His name sent tingles through me, bringing my fighter instincts to the fore. We’d made amends but it would still be awhile before I would consider him a good mate.

“He gave you his kidney this morning.”

You know that moment where a balloon is filled to the extreme and there’s no possibility of pushing more air into it and yet you blow harder, forcing, and then it explodes? That happened when those words left her sweet lips. My bloody head fucking exploded.

“You’re pulling my prick,” I said, deadpan, trying to assure her I didn’t think her words were funny.

“No, I’m not. Believe me, if I was, you’d know it.” She grinned and winked.

“I…there aren’t words. I…I’m, uh, surprised. Tripp?” I searched her face to see any hint of humor or joking. There wasn’t any. “Why?”

She took a deep breath and visibly swallowed. Her hand pulled a thick lock of hair, then twirled it around her finger. Nervous, even with me. Such a sweet woman. God I loved her. “He said he wanted to give me back life. That he owed me for helping him all these years. He didn’t want me to lose you.”

“But, he could have died…“

“You
would have
died, Collier. I can’t bear the thought that I’d lose you, too.”

“Come here.” I held out my arm and she laid her head in the crook of my neck. She smelled of cinnamon and sadness. “Baby, I’m not going anywhere. But it looks like I’m going to have to do some serious groveling to your best mate.”

She chuckled and sighed. “I love you, Collier. I’m sorry I was scared to admit it before.”

“Oh Beauty, I love you so much. Forever more my dear. Forever more. Now get that sweet arse up here and let me hold you. I’m so bloody tired. Having you near will help me sleep.”

“Won’t it hurt?”

“It hurts me not having you closer. Besides, you’re tiny. There’s plenty of room.”

And there was. She fit right along the length of my body. Her cast over my waist did hurt so I moved it between us.

“How bad were you hurt, love?”

“Not bad. Just the arm. Sore ribs. Bruises and bumps mostly.”

“When we get out of here, I want to kiss every last one of them. And then you can kiss mine. We’ll make each other better, yeah?”

“I’m already better. You’re alive, here with me. That’s all I’ll ever need.” Her eyes closed as she snuggled into my chest. I played with her hair until we both fell blissfully asleep lying next to one another.

Epilogue

Two months later…

During those moments when you’re faced with death, we humans are compelled to make promises to ourselves, to God, to whomever will hear our pleas. I did that when presented with the possibility that I’d lose the first man I’d loved since losing James.

Then again, when confronted with losing my best friend in the entire world. No woman should have to deal with those things. So yeah, I made promises to God, to Collier, to Tripp, but mostly to myself. I think I’ve stuck to them. But I deserve a fucking medal of honor for spending the last two months playing nursemaid to two very opinionated and outspoken men in pain.

Between Tripp’s incessant whining about pain because he only allowed himself a half a pain pill every eight hours instead of the requisite two every four to six hours, he’s been a regular thorn in my side.

Then there’s Collier, who spent more time than not fighting with me about helping him. Finally, the cavalry showed up.

Aspen sent a sexy assed nurse in to take care of Tripp while I took care of my man. Honestly, I’d almost rather take care of Tripp. At least with him, I didn’t want to kiss him as much as I wanted to throttle him.

And Collier’s been the handsiest patient in the entire world. Every time I try to re-tape his ribs, he grabs a handful of ass, bites at a nipple while I’m leaned over him or skims those sexy full lips along my neckline. It’s maddening.

Not being able to act on this newfound love has been complete and utter torture of the worst kind. At week four, I couldn’t take the sexual tension anymore and held him down while I sucked him off then let him reciprocate by leaning on his side and kissing me while fingering me into oblivion. It barely took the edge off. It’s not the same as having your man fully joined with you. Today, eight weeks into his recovery, I’m taking my man and riding him into the sunset.

Enough is enough. His ribs have mostly healed, just a bit sensitive. My cast was removed two weeks ago. His casts were removed last week. He’s been living with me and Tripp for two solid months. It was easier than going back and forth between his apartment and ours. Even with the professional nursemaid for Tripp, I still needed to see my guys through this. It’s been a hard two months, but now I feel things have turned around.

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