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Authors: Robin L. Rotham

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Smiling, she leaned over and kissed him tenderly. “Agreed.”

“You know, Hake’s not the only one who’s in pain this morning,” he said when she raised her head.

“Oh?” AJ raised a brow. “Are you going to tell me where it hurts or do I need to examine you myself?”

His brown eyes went darker instantly. “A thorough examination might be in order, doctor.”

She stifled a smile. Brent was always up for a game. Literally.

“All right then.” Throwing the blanket off him, she rose to her knees and looked him over from head to toe. “Hmm, a visual inspection reveals nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Look again,” he growled.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I don’t know how I could have missed swelling like this.” She trailed a fingertip over from the base of his cock to the tip, and then lightly around the edge of the corona, making him squirm a little. “It does look pretty painful. Maybe I’d better put some ice on it.”

He winced. “Moist heat combined with suction usually works best.”

“I’m sure it does,” she couldn’t help giggling, “but since I’m the doctor, I get to decide the proper treatment. I really ought to look for other problem areas first.”

“Doctor, I’m confident that’s the only
problem
area this morning,” he said with a little roll of his hips, “and it’s about to go critical.”

“Maybe I should do an oral inspection to confirm that.”

“Please do.”

“Very well. But keep your hands to yourself. I don’t want anyone getting
hurt
during this procedure,” she added with a stern look.

“Yes, Doctor,” he said breathlessly.

AJ was a little breathless herself, and a lot giddy with excitement. This was really hot—maybe there was more switch in her than she thought.

Bracing her hands on his slim upper thighs, she lowered her head and took him in her mouth, sucking lightly as she ran her tongue all over the head. His little whimper was so exciting, she did it again and again, until he was straining upward in a desperate quest for more. “Please, Ariel! I can’t take any more.”

He wasn’t the only one. AJ was panting and flushed all over, and she had a feeling the blanket between her knees was going to need a good washing.

“I think it’s time for an emergency procedure,” she pronounced, swinging her leg over his hips and planting her hands on his chest.

“Oh yeah?” He slid his hands up her thighs to her hips, watching her avidly. “What’s it called?”

She thought for just a second. “A
euphuckeme
.”

Brent snorted with laughter. “I don’t know. This looks more like a
eurideme
.”

“We’ll do both just to be on the safe side,” she decided as she slid smoothly down onto his beautiful cock.

Giving a long, satisfied groan, he pulled her down for a kiss and breathed, “I knew I was in good hands.”

 

 

 

Chapter Twelve

 

Brent was standing barefoot in the kitchen, grabbing another cup of coffee at two in the afternoon, when Joe finally walked in carrying a large cardboard box.

“What’s that?”

“Christmas present,” Joe grunted on his way by.

Brent followed him into the living room and watched him set it under the tree with all the wrapped gifts. Peering over Joe’s shoulder, he asked, “How are we supposed to know who it’s for?”

“It’s for Ariel.” Joe winced when he rose, rubbing his side and then his stomach.

“Feeling all right?” Brent asked

He got a dark look for his trouble. “I’m fine.”

Joe took off his coat and went back into the kitchen to hang it up. Trailing after him again, Brent swallowed a sigh of disappointment. Apparently their little lesson in the shed last night hadn’t taken.

“So did you get your escape route all cleared?” he asked a little more bitterly than he’d intended.

Joe leaned his butt against the counter and crossed his arms. “No.”

“Let me guess—they didn’t have a load for you.”

“Brent, would you mind giving it a rest?” he said with an aggravated sigh. “I wouldn’t leave on Christmas. I’m not out to hurt anyone.”

“Then why the rush to get the road cleared?”

“I didn’t
clear the road
. I just carved a path through the drifts so at least four-wheel drives can get through if there’s an emergency.”

Brent blinked. “Well that’s…civic-minded of you.”

“Joe?” Ariel walked in yawning, still wearing her flannel pajamas. “Did you get done? Is everything okay?”

“Yup. Pretty late for you to be getting up, ain’t it?”

“I was taking a nap.”

After a late breakfast, all four of them had needed a nap, so Brent and Ariel had gone to their room while Mandy and Hake returned to the guest room. Brent had been up for about an hour, spending some time on the computer, and he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Hake or Mandy yet.

“Have you had anything to eat?” AJ asked. “There’s still a little soup left from last night.”

“No, I’m really not hungry,” he said, still rubbing his stomach. “But we need to talk. Come on and sit down—I’m bushed.”

AJ and Brent exchanged ominous looks as they followed him into the living room. Joe Remke
never
wanted to talk.

They all sat down on the couch, with Ariel in the middle. After taking a deep breath and running his hands through his already untidy hair, Joe leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands between them.

Brent frowned. Those hands were trembling. Joe was clearly exhausted, looking every one of his forty-nine years and then some.

“Ariel, honey, you’re a beautiful, loving woman and the kind of mother every kid deserves. And Brent, I can’t think of any man who’d make a better father—you’re smart, you’re calm, and you’re a hell of a lot of fun. The two of you would be fools not to grab this chance to be a real family, so I’m asking you to
please
raise Mandy’s baby. Get married and give that kid the life it deserves.”

“Thanks for the advice, old man, but I know what you’re doing.” Brent scoffed.

Joe looked like he was having trouble hanging onto his temper. “I’m taking myself out of the equation, so you don’t have to choose between me and what you really want. And neither of you can tell me you don’t want it, because I know you do. Hell, you’ve been nesting like two happy damn birds for months. You were made for each other. Made to be parents. Tell Mandy you’ve made your choice.”

“There shouldn’t be any choice to make!” Ariel cried. “
We’re
a family, Joe.
You
are my family.”

“You know as well as I do that a three-parent household won’t go over well in this town.”

“That’s just an excuse,” she told him flatly. “You’re running away and letting fear win. I’ve tried, Joe. I don’t know what else I can do—what any of us can do—to keep you from leaving us behind. How can you walk away from everything we’ve made here?”

“I don’t know, Ariel. You’re right, and I hate myself for it, but I just can’t…” He gasped and bowed his head, the knuckles of his clasped hands white, his face pasty.

Ariel started forward, putting her hand on his back. “Joe, what is it? Are you feeling okay?”

He nodded, but he didn’t look all that sure about it. “God, I love you so much it scares me. Both of you—hell, all of you. I’d give everything I have to stay and see you become the parents you’re meant to be—”

“Then stay!”

“I don’t know if I can! This feeling…” He pressed one shaking hand to his chest. “I don’t even know how to describe it, and it’s gotten worse the last couple of days. So much worse. It’s like a physical part of me, like a cancer or something. I can feel it in there now, pulsing…growing…”

Shit, that sounded so bad, even Brent’s heart was pounding. “Is this a panic attack? I’ve heard they can be bad, but Jesus…”

Joe closed his eyes, panting, swaying a little, and Ariel threw her arms around him. “God, Joe, you’re shaking like a leaf. Does your chest hurt?” When he nodded, she looked at Brent. “Call nine-one-one.”

“No,” Joe gasped. “I don’t need a doctor. It’s just—”

“Shit!” Brent stood up. “You think it’s his heart?”

“I don’t know,” she said, “but if his chest hurts, we can’t take any chances so get on your phone and call nine-one-one right now!”

“Calling.” He pulled out his phone, dialing nine-one-one as he walked out of the living room and down the hall to the guest room. He didn’t even knock—just walked right in as the operator came on and asked if he had an emergency.

“I think my partner may be having a heart attack,” he said tightly, looking into Hake’s eyes as panic tightened his gut.

“Is the victim breathing?” the dispatcher asked.

“Yes, he’s breathing, but he’s having chest pain.”

“Oh Jesus.” Hake threw off the covers and grabbed his jeans while Mandy rolled off the other side of the bed and started throwing on clothes.

Brent headed back toward the living room as he answered the operator’s questions about Joe but stopped short when she said she couldn’t get a rescue crew to their location for at least forty minutes because of the travel conditions.

“He might not have forty minutes!” he practically yelled.

“Sir, if you have any way of safely getting him to the hospital sooner…”

Brent’s eyes widened. “Yes! He just opened up the drifts on our road.”

“Then I’d advise you to take him in. Do you want me to stay on the line with you while you transport him?”

“Yes, please.”

“I’m feeling better already,” Joe was telling Ariel. “I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

“Yes, you fucking well do,” she snapped. “So shut up, get your damn coat on and get in the pickup.”

Joe took a deep breath and then got up. “Okay, but only because you’re making me.”

 

* * * * *

 

He’d expected to spend an hour in the waiting room, but all AJ had to say was “chest pain” and he was rushed right back. Within seconds, there were a half-dozen people bustling around tearing open packages and taking control of his body while Brent and AJ hovered just inside the door. She hadn’t even gotten dressed, just thrown her coat on over her pajamas.

Joe stood there passively as all the different nurses and techs stripped him to the waist and then urged him onto the bed, attaching him to monitors, putting an oxygen tube on his nose, and taking a half-dozen vials of his blood—all while someone asked questions about his symptoms and someone else took down his history. He couldn’t believe they were making all this fuss over a damn panic attack.

“I’m feeling much better now,” he kept telling them. He’d started feeling better the minute they all piled into Hake’s pickup but Hake had refused to turn around.

“Do you still have pain?” one of the nurses asked.

“Yeah, but just a little, and it’s down here, not in my chest.” He pointed to his belly.

“Then we’ll figure out what’s going on and send you home if it’s nothing serious.”

He sighed. “Fine.”

When the one taking his history asked if he had an advance directive or durable power of attorney on file, he pulled the card his attorney had given him from his wallet and handed it to her, nodding toward Brent. “He can make any decisions.”

Brent looked startled. “When did you do that?”

“When we got the construction loan. I updated my will, too, and made you two the beneficiaries of my life insurance policies.”

“Damn well better not be paying out anytime soon,” Brent muttered under his breath.

“Well I’ll do my best,” Joe assured him with an ironic look.

Apparently it was a slow day in the emergency room because a doctor came right in. A damn young one, too. How could he be a doctor? He didn’t look any older than Ryan Stivers.

“Hi, Joe, I’m Dr. Sands,” he said, shaking Joe’s hand. “And who’s this with you?”

“My partners, Brent Andersen and Ariel Pender.”

The guy didn’t miss a beat, shaking hands with them and telling them to have a seat while he examined Joe. After he’d pored over the readout from the machine hooked to his chest and the papers in his file, he said, “Well, your EKG and cardiac markers are normal but your blood pressure is slightly elevated so we can’t rule out anything yet.”

“My blood pressure’s been slightly elevated for months,” Joe said. “I feel ridiculous putting everyone to all this trouble. I think it might have been a panic attack.”

“Possibly, but chest pain is nothing to take chances with,” the doctor told him. “That’s why you got the VIP treatment. Do you have a history of panic attacks?”

“No. Well I’ve felt panicked before, but never like that.”

“Like what? Tell me about it.”

Joe described his growing uneasiness while they built the house, and the feeling of doom that had exploded inside him in the last couple of days. “This morning it was bad—so bad I had to get out there and scrape a path through the drifts all the way to the highway so I could get out if I needed to.”

“Good thing you did.” The doctor nodded and scribbled notes in the chart until Joe got to the part about his side and back hurting, and the throbbing in his belly. Then he looked up sharply. “Throbbing?”

“Yeah. That’s still happening.”

“Show me where.”

Joe pointed over his navel and the doctor probed gently with his fingers. “You’re not a smoker, are you?”

“Nope. Never have been.”

“Anyone in your family with a history of aortic aneurysm?”

Joe stilled. “My dad died of some kind of aneurysm in his stomach. Why, are they hereditary?”

“They can be.” The doctor pulled the sheet up to his chest. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll probably be here,” Joe said with a rusty laugh. Shit, he hoped he’d be here. His dad had been laughing at the dinner table one minute and unconscious on the floor the next. The doctors said he’d bled out before the ambulance got to the house.

“What, exactly, is an aneurysm?” Brent asked, holding AJ’s hand and looking as worried as she did. “I thought they were only in your brain.”

“It’s when a weak spot in a blood vessel balloons out and then pops,” Joe explained, remembering the doctor’s description all too well. “I guess you can get them anywhere, in any blood vessel.”

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