Surge (St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders) Book 3: St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders (16 page)

Read Surge (St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders) Book 3: St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders Online

Authors: Gina Watson

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Collections & Anthologies, #New Adult, #Contemporary, #Sagas, #General, #Suspense, #Family & Relationships, #Love & Romance

BOOK: Surge (St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders) Book 3: St. Martin Family Saga: Emergency Responders
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“Hey, Clara Bear.” Cal leaned over and squeezed her tight.

Chloe reached over and kissed her cheek. “Good to see you, Clara. Mmm, that coffee smells good.”

“I would offer you one, but I accidentally drank out of both of them.” She giggled.

Chloe smiled and whispered, “I’ll make Cal take me to PJ’s. Give you guys some time to catch up.”

“Come on, Cal.” Chloe linked her arm in his.

“Well guys, that’s my cue. Be seeing you.” He shook Jackson’s hand and they exited the room.

She walked up to Jackson, kissed his cheek, and sat in the chair next to his bed.

“I got you a caramel macchiato and this.” She set the coffee on the table and handed him the magazine.

“Sportsman’s Paradise.”

“Mmm hmm, and this month is all about angling.”

“I’m not an angler.” He tossed the magazine on the tabletop.

“I know, but I thought you might read about it and drum up interest.”

His brow quirked at her. “Clara, we talked about this. Why are you here?”

She shrugged. “Jackson, please don’t push me away again. I can’t … just please … please let me sit here. I need to be next to you. I can’t just quit you cold turkey. I need to let go a little at a time. She huffed and exhaled. “I was hoping we could remain friends. I could use one.”

He winced at her words. She thought it peculiar. Maybe he was in pain or something. “Are you hurting?”

“No, I’m on pain meds.”

“So you don’t want to be friends or what?”

“Since we were lovers I think it will be hard for us to now just be friends.”

“Hmm. Jackson, I need to ask you something and I want you to be honest with me.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“Are you doing all of this because of the way Clay reacted? The things he said?”

“No. I meant what I said.” His thick lips tightened into a thin line.

She audibly choked back a sob, biting her lip to keep her cries from full exposure. The nurse came in and took his vitals. When she was done she turned the lights down and left. They sat and the quiet grew into a giant chasm between them. She was almost asleep.

“Clara.” Jackson whispered.

“Mmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Shh, please, I haven’t slept in days.”

She reclined the chair all the way back. She felt a pillow land on her face. She took it and arranged it to suit. Then he passed her a warm blanket that smelled like him. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes.

Chapter 18

God, he was
three seconds from losing his mind. She’d asked him point blank if he was pushing her away because of what her brother had said. He’d never lied to her before and it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. She’d tried to stand strong, but he’d heard the whimper escape her throat. He’d wanted to tell her then that it was all bullshit. That he loved her with everything he had. But what she didn’t know was that Clay had threatened him, more than once, to end it. What Clay said was hurtful, but Jackson knew he was only trying to protect his baby sister. Jackson couldn’t deny the truth in the words Clay had spoken. He’d said Jackson had used Clara to divert his attention away from the pain of losing his parents.

Yes, she’d diverted his attention, but in his eyes she also held his heart. His chest grew dark and hollow when she wasn’t around. Together they’d walked through the desert of loneliness enduring conditions of bottomless burning and thirst. He followed her smile, she followed his voice, and they’d emerged hand in hand with hearts entwined. The emotion they’d felt was honest and pure. That was their story.

She was so close to his bed. If he stretched out his arm he could touch her, and dammit, he needed her touch like he needed air to breathe. He could smell her fresh clean scent and hear the little sighs she made when she slept.

He hated Clay in that moment. Hated him for not recognizing what they had. Hated him for not accepting his love for Clara. Hell, maybe he’d never been good enough to be one of them. He would die with this weight on his chest, a heavy knot that stung and pierced him into his rightful place. He loved her, probably could never love another after experiencing her pure and honest affection. When he was with her he was a whole man, a king. Without her he was a peasant begging for crumbs.

Letting her go was the hardest thing he’d ever done. And he’d done a lot of difficult things over the years, like maintaining medical school and his job as a paramedic. And of course, the loss of his parents was high on that list. But she trumped them all. Every time she came around and forced him to deny their love he died a little inside. He didn’t think he was strong enough to keep up the charade. It would be one thing if he only had to tell her once, but she kept coming back, refusing to give up on their love.

He wanted her next to him one last time in bed. She was dead to the world. He could just scoop her up and bring her to the bed. He’d return her before she woke.

And that’s exactly what he did.

As he stared down at her sleeping form he knew that
for her
he would sacrifice his needs. She would have her family even at the cost of his heart—without her he didn’t need it anyway.

He positioned her so that he could slide in behind her and spoon—their favorite position to fall asleep. He needed to feel her skin so he slid her dress up.
Shit
! He’d forgotten she wore those tiny panties with this particular dress. He thought about the hard journey he had ahead of him and willed his erection to go down.

Day turned into night and his eyes became heavy.

They were in a flowering meadow. The flowers on Clara’s dress mirrored the flowers that made up the crown on her head. She ran from him and he caught her as she swung around a maypole. They fell down to the ground and lay on a bed made of colorful flowers and ribbons. His hand slid up her dress and palmed her butt, full and warm. She moaned and arched into him. He squeezed her breast that fit his hand so perfectly.

His fingers found her wet channel and slid inside her cozy heat. Wet with desire he fingered her until she writhed for more. He pulled from her and his fingers glistened with her juices. He licked each one and savored the sweet taste of her he’d been denied for too long.

He fisted his cock and moved aside the slender ribbon of material that concealed her secrets. Sliding his erection through her wetness she moaned low in her throat and used her hips in an erotic dance, spurring his desire. As she pushed back he slowly entered her from behind until her warm channel hugged him fully. He held onto her tightly as one hand kneaded her breasts and the other pressed her closely to him.

Their intimate connection was no longer a desire but a necessity. His pace quickened and his hand traveled down between her legs and his fingers caressed her gently. He applied delicate pressure to the tender spot between her folds, increasing the pressure when the knot grew hard. He knew her body better than his own and with the increased wetness he pumped faster from behind sending both of them soaring over the edge.

It was a wonderful dream and he hoped he never woke.

Unfortunately he woke many hours later to a nurse making adjustments to the equipment beside his bed. Slowly his senses awoke. He inhaled and smelled
her.
Then he felt the warmth of her body beside him. On him. Hugging him.
Shit
!

Clara began to stir too, but when she realized how intimately they were connected her body tensed.

“Don’t move. We’re covered by the sheets. Pretend to be asleep.” He whispered in her ear.

The nurse stood by and added something to his IV bag.

It hadn’t been a dream. His body had reached for her even when unconscious. And hers had reached for him.

Once the nurse left the room Jackson pulled from the warmth of Clara’s body. She rolled over so that they were face to face.

“Cracker Jack, I love you.” She kissed his nose.

“Clara, I … I thought I was dreaming. I didn’t intend to …” He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. “I’m on pain medication right now. I should have made you leave last night. I wasn’t even consciously aware that we were doing it. I was asleep. I don’t know how it happened.” He shook his head in disbelief. “This is so messed up. I can’t think clearly. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you, but I just needed to sleep next to you one last time.”

“One last time … one last time.” Her voice was strained. She stood and pierced him with her blue eyes. “Our bodies speak the truth—too bad your mouth only spews lies.”

She walked to the bathroom and gently closed the door. Chiding himself all over again for what he’d let happen he stilled when Clay walked through the door.

“Where is she?”

Jackson’s eyes scanned the bathroom door.

Clay closed the door to the room and then knocked on the bathroom door. “Get out here, young lady.”

Clara returned and huffed when she met the brick wall of her brother. “Really, Clay? I’m a little old for the
young lady
speech.”

“Clara, how many times do I have to tell you that I worry about you? You didn’t come home last night so I called your phone and it rang for a while and then went to voicemail. Eve and I drove over to your apartment, but you weren’t there. Then we went to the restaurant and Lucian told us you’d been off for an hour. It’s not until I text you, frantic with worry, that I finally hear from you and it’s that you’re going to spend the night with Jackson at the hospital.” Clay ran his hand forcefully through his hair.

Jackson’s stomach burned with acid as he witnessed their exchange.

“What would you have me do, Clay?” Clara’s hands rested on her hips. “You meddle in my life like you have some kind of claim over me. You can’t tell me who I can and cannot be with. I’m an adult.”

“You weren’t an adult when this started and I’m your older brother.”

Clara showed the palm of her hand to Clay. “I don’t want to argue. It’s not worth it.” She set intense blue eyes on Jackson. He watched as her lips quivered and her eyes churned like a liquid storm. “I can’t be the only one willing to fight for what we have. We’re done.” She grabbed her things and swiftly walked out.

Clay turned to Jackson. “I’ll deal with you later.”

“I’ll look forward to that.” And he would. He wanted someone to beat him bloody for what he’d done. He deserved to be in pain for the anguish he’d brought into her life.


Four days post-crash Jackson’s body was feeling much improved. His heart, however, was far from okay.

He’d started therapy three days ago and that had gone much easier than he’d expected. He didn’t even have to wear the air splint on his ankle anymore since none of his ligaments were torn, just sprained. Additionally, it seemed his ulna bone was only splintered, not broken in two. That would speed up his recovery time and the cast would be coming off within a few weeks. The worst of it was the bruising and road rash caused from hitting and then sliding on the pavement. Muscle and bone on his right side were badly bruised and he felt as if he’d been tumbled dry on high heat. Every breath and step he took hurt like hell.

He’d be discharged today and that was all well and good, but he didn’t want to go home to nurse his injuries in a Clara-less apartment.

He thought about staying at the station, but ruled that out when he thought of Clay’s piercing ice blue eyes glaring through him. Nurse Higgins handed Jackson a clipboard and waited for him to sign his discharge papers. When he finished he looked up to see his buddy Parker.

He nodded. “What’s up?”

“Cash and I fought over who had to take care of your sad ass. Since he’s got Daria I lost. You ready?”

Parker’s hitched brow said he sought a response. Jackson shrugged, “We’re not gonna stay on a shrimp boat, are we?”

“Hey, you’d be surprised how impressed the ladies are when I take them back to my boat.”

“Spare me.” Jackson rolled his eyes.

“You’ll be putting me up at your apartment. I’ll expect white glove service.”

Jackson’s head tilted, “I’m afraid you’re in for a let down.”

“Just have to make do with the couch then.”

Jackson slowly ambled to the door, hissing here and there when his body seized in pain.

“Easy does it.” Parker freed him from carrying a bag filled with his clothes.

They made it into the hall and Nurse Higgins greeted them with a wheelchair. She patted the seat with her hand and Jackson obeyed.

“Parker, here’s his prescription.” As she spoke they walked and Parker pushed the wheelchair.”

“He can have one pill every four hours for the pain. Make sure he stays away from work. He’s been given the next ten days off from his residency and I know Clay isn’t expecting him at the station during that time either.”

“Will do, Nurse Higgins. Thanks.”

At the apartment Parker set him up on the couch and left to fill the prescription and pick up food. With work and school Jackson hadn’t really had much time for Parker since Clara had moved back to Baton Rouge. However, Jackson had nursed Parker back from a few severe hangovers. One especially bad episode had left him face down in a pool of his own vomit. Jackson had found him on his boat. The poor bastard had been obsessing hard over Brook.

Sounds of the door opening came from the entry. He supposed it was just Parker returning, but what if it was someone else?
Bug.
With wide eyes he searched and Parker appeared, gesturing a hello with hands full of takeout.

Jackson felt his hopeful expression deflate.

“Well, I know I’m not exactly your type but I think if we try we can make things work out between us.”

Jackson scoffed.

“Expecting someone else, were you?”

“No, I wasn’t expecting anyone else.”

“Because it seems like you were.” Parker talked as he walked into the kitchen and returned with plates, sodas, and utensils.

He set a pie dish down on the coffee table. The fluted pie dish he’d given to her. “You saw Clara.”

“I did. She said chicken potpie is the only thing you’ll eat when you’re down. She hooked us up. Also got tiramisu and this salad.” He handed Jackson a plate of salad.

Jackson forked some into his mouth.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Jackson replied around a mouthful of food.

“That’s fine. By the way, I was making a delivery today at Moretti’s and Clara broke down crying.”

Jackson sat up and placed his plate on the coffee table. Parker had his full attention. “Why was she crying?”

Parker took a swig of Coke. “She said you broke up with her.”

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t really
say
anything. I got us coffee and ice cream and I sat with her.”

“How did you leave her?”

“Better than I found her.”

Jackson grunted.

“Damn, I like chicken potpie, but this is on a whole other level.”

Parker had already eaten a quarter of the dish and reached for more. “Don’t even think about it. It’s mine.” Jackson warned.

Parker held his palms in the air surrender style. “Fine. I’ll focus on the dessert.” He held up a huge slice of tiramisu and quirked a brow at Jackson. “Want some?”

“No, I’m good.”

Parker was a great guy. His easygoing nature and quick wit made him fun to be around. Hell, he could even get a smile out of Sister Timber. While they ate they watched
Swamp Life
and Jackson was left pondering the Clara-status update Parker had given him. He hated to hear that Clara was hurting.

“That’s at least a twelve footer.”

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