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I called her to tell her I was getting married, and she was elated. She promised to set the date for the procedure with the surgeon. I didn’t follow up after that. I was too caught up with preparing for the game, and my mind was too full of Goldie and my changing feelings for her. I was selfish again. I didn’t make time for Grams, just like I wasn't there for Diana when she needed me most. If I hadn’t been busy pursuing my career as an NHL player, I’d have been able to be there for my sister.
After our parents' deaths, Diana was everything to me. Grams brought us both up, but she was never able to control Diana. She only listened to me. When I got the opportunity to play for the NHL, I didn’t want to go, but Grams convinced me. She told me my parents would have wanted it. That if I didn’t follow my passion, I’d regret it.
I didn’t want to listen to her, until Diana found out. She was seventeen then but mature enough to insist I follow my dream. I promised I’d always be there for her, no matter how busy I was. But, NHL commitments meant there was no way I could fly back to see her as often as I wanted. In fact, I only managed to get away for Christmas each year.
Whenever I made it back home, things were strained between Diana and my grandmother, but I didn't realize how bad things were. Not until Grams called to tell me Diana had moved to L.A. to launch her career as a director. Even then, I wasn't alarmed. Diana had always been stubborn; she’d always known her mind, and had been mature for her years.
Even though she and Grams didn’t often see eye-to-eye, they loved each other. I kept in touch with Diana by phone, calling her every week, and she kept me updated on her progress. Things were tough. She was pitching her script and waitressing to pay her bills, but she never lost faith in her talent. Neither did I. I was convinced she’d make it as a director. She was talented and beautiful. Then the calls stopped. I wasn’t able to get hold of her. I hadn’t been particularly alarmed. I hadn’t time to be alarmed, I had entered a particularly challenging phase of my career, and all my mind-space was taken up with making it in the NHL. Then the call came.
"Rick?" Goldie’s voice cuts through my thoughts. "Dr. Kincaid’s here."
I glance up to find a man in scrubs walking toward me. His features are tired, but his gaze is bright, and that gives me hope. I rise to my feet; so does Goldie. She takes my hand, and this time, I let her. He stops in front of us, then his face curves in a smile. "I’m Dr. Weston Kincaid. Your grandmother is doing well."
I blow out a breath. "How long will the recovery be?"
He turns serious. "I won’t lie. She’s at an age where it will take her time to recover from the effects of the operation, but she’s a strong woman and a fighter. I’d told her to not delay the operation. Her heart was weakening every day, but the woman was stubborn. If she’d agreed to the operation earlier, it wouldn't have come to this." He shakes his head.
Guilt twists my guts. My stomach churns, and bile boils up my throat. I’m responsible for Grams condition. I should have set a date for the wedding and insisted that Goldie go through with it. That way, Grams would have gone through with the procedure before she collapsed. I curl my fingers into a fist at my side. I tighten my hand around Goldie's, and sensing the tension emanating from me, she stiffens.
Neither of us says anything.
Dr. Kincaid looks at the engagement ring on her finger, then back up at me. His feature soften. "She’s a tough one. I'm confident she’ll be back on her feet soon."
A shudder of relief grips me. My knees buckle, I sway, and Goldie wraps her arm about my waist to steady me. For a second, I lean my weight on her. I realize again, she’s not fragile as she seems. For the first time in my life, I’ve depended on someone else.But why does it have to be her?I put distance between us, so she has to lower her hand. I sense the hurt on her face, but I don’t look at her.
"Can we see her?"
"She’s still in recovery and will likely be sleeping off the after-effects of the anesthesia. I suggest you go home and do the same. You can come tomorrow morning, by which time, she should be awake."
When I hesitate, Dr. Kincaid turns to Goldie. "Take your man home. Both of you seem ready to drop." He nods in my direction. "You’re no good to her if you run yourself into the ground."
He turns to leave, then stops. "She was asking for Tiny when she was brought in. Who’s he?"
53
Gio
"We’re getting married," Rick announces.
He spent the entire journey from the hospital brooding. I wanted to console him, but after the way he pulled away from me earlier, I wasn't sure if I should. He had a car with a driver waiting for us outside. I assumed he'd ordered one earlier. But when we slid into the backseat, he greeted the chauffeur. He didn’t introduce the other man, who frowned at him, then introduced himself as Charles.
He's Grams’ driver and has been the Mitchell family’s driver for more than thirty years. It's another piece of information I added to the 'Rick’s space' area in my heart. Somehow, he's never volunteered information about his family. He only took me to see Grams because that was part of our deal.
Fact is, I might know Rick in the carnal sense, but emotionally, it’s another matter altogether. The man has never been open to sharing information about himself. He’s never bothered to ask me about myself, either. If it hadn't been for that journalist’s interview where she tested us about our knowledge of each other, I wouldn't have realized how much he knows about me. Things he’s learned by observing, and no doubt, asking the friends we have in common.
Still, I’d have preferred he ask me face-to-face, like going on an old-fashioned date. But when you’re roomies and the chemistry between the two of you is always a third presence… It’s difficult to keep your mind on anything else except jumping him, and licking him up, and coaxing him to sink that big, fat cock of his inside you. Heat flushes my skin. Why am I thinking of sex, when his grandmother is in the hospital?
I’m a horrible, horrible person. I reined in my thoughts and ended up falling asleep in the car. When I opened my eyes, it was to find he was carrying me into` the house. I protested, but he ignored me and that had pissed me off. But I was too tired, so I decided to close my eyes, snuggle into his chest, and enjoy the ride up the stairs.
Then, he prowled into the room, lowered me to the bed, and loomed over me until I opened my eyes. That’s when he made his intention known, and all sleep vanished.
I spring up in bed. "What?"
"It shouldn’t come as a surprise to you. I already told you this was inevitable."
"But Grams already had her operation," I protest.
"And if we had gotten married earlier, she wouldn’t have waited until she’d collapsed to be rushed into surgery. She almost died." His jaw hardens. A nerve twitches at his temple, a sure sign that he’s pissed.
