The Christmas Wife (17 page)

He buried his face in her neck, his entire body shaking, and
she rubbed his back soothingly and whispered, “It’ll be okay, honey.”

* * *

“Mr. Stone?”  The surgeon, he was a tall man with a
weathered face and kind eyes, strode into the waiting room.

Deacon gave Claire a frightened look and she squeezed his
hand reassuringly as Brandon stood up.

“How is she?”

“She’s good,” the surgeon said.  “She’s not out of the woods
yet.  Two of her coronary arteries were blocked completely which is what caused
the heart attack.  We did CABG’s on both of them and it went very well
considering her age.  She just left recovery for the ICU.  She’ll be there for
at least the next week but her prognosis is good.”

“Thank God.”  Deacon shook the surgeon’s hand.  “Can we see
her?”

The surgeon hesitated, “Yes, for a few minutes.  She’s still
pretty groggy and it might be better if just one or two of you go in.”

“You and Deacon go and see her,” Donna said to Brandon. 
“We’ll wait for you.”

Deacon glanced anxiously at Claire.  She brushed her hand
through his hair.  “Go on, honey.  Hattie and I will be right here when you get
back.”

He pulled her into his embrace.  “Do you promise?”  He
whispered.

“I promise,” she murmured before kissing him lightly. 
“We’re not going anywhere.”

* * *

“I’m glad nana’s okay, Deacon,” Hattie said as he cuddled
her in her bed.

“Me too, Hattie,” he replied.

She was silent for a few minutes and he stroked her hair
lightly.  Hattie had insisted that he put her to bed and Claire hadn’t argued. 
She had kissed Hattie and left the two of them alone.  Deacon had read her a
story and when Hattie had asked for cuddles, he had wedged his body into the
small bed and held her tightly.

“Deacon?  Why don’t you like me anymore?”  She asked
suddenly.

His heart ached and he kissed the top of her head as she stared
up at him.  “You’ve been ignoring me.”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said.  “I shouldn’t have done that
and I promise I’ll never do it again.  I love you, Hattie.”

“I love you too, Deacon,” she said happily.

“Hattie, I want you to call me daddy,” he said.

“Mama said I shouldn’t,” she pointed out.

“I’ll talk to your mama and tell her it’s okay.  Alright?”

“Okay.”  She patted his cheek with one small hand.  “I love
you, daddy.”

“I love you too,” he said.  “Always.”

He eased out of the bed and tucked the covers around her. 
“Time to go to sleep, Hattie.”

“I need my truck.”

He tucked the truck in beside her and she smiled again at
him.  “Goodnight, daddy.”

“Goodnight, honey.”

He closed the door to her room and, his heart pounding,
walked to his bedroom.  Claire was waiting for him in the room and the knot of
tension in his stomach tightened.

“Deacon, I need to tell you something,” she said.  “I should
have told you before now but I – “

“Why did you come to the hospital?”  He interrupted.

She hesitated before taking a deep breath.  “Because I love
you.”

He didn’t reply and she played nervously with her necklace. 
“I’m sorry, I know that sounds crazy and I know our marriage is fake but I love
you, Deacon.  I’m not trying to – to coerce you into anything and I know that
you don’t feel the same way but I needed you to know.  I can’t keep it a secret
anymore, I don’t
want
to keep it a secret anymore, and I – “

She gasped when Deacon strode forward and pulled her into
his arms.  He kissed her hard on the mouth and she stared dazedly at him when
he finally released her.

“I love you, Claire.”

“Get the hell out,” she said weakly.

He laughed and reached for his mother’s ring.  She had left
it on the bedside table and he picked it up and slipped it on to her
madly-shaking hand before tugging her into his arms again.

“I love you and I love Hattie, and you’re never to remove
this ring again.  You’re my wife, Claire, and I’m never letting you go.”

She stared up at him.  “You love me.”

“I love you,” he repeated.  “Always.”

“It’s so beautiful, Deacon.”

“I knew you’d love it here.”  He put his arms around her
waist as they stood on the hotel balcony and stared at the crystal blue waters
of the Caribbean.

“Hattie would love it,” Claire said.  “She’d probably
already be in the ocean.”

“We’ll bring her here next year,” Deacon promised.  “I would
have brought her this time but I figured our honeymoon should really just be
the two of us.”

Claire grinned at him.  “I couldn’t agree more.”

“Did she sound okay when you called her?”  He suddenly asked
anxiously.

“Yes, she sounded just fine,” Claire said.  “She loves it
when Ellen babysits her, and apparently Ellen and Jude were taking her to a
movie and then the three of them were having dinner with Rosa.”

“Good.”  He rubbed her hip before tugging lightly at the
string on her bikini.  “You’re wearing entirely too many clothes.”

She laughed.  “I couldn’t be wearing less clothes if I
tried, Deacon.”

“I completely disagree.”  He pulled on the string until it
loosened and she grabbed the thin material.

“We’re right out in the open,” she admonished gently.

He tugged her back into the room.  “I had no idea you were
such a prude, Claire.”

She laughed again before placing her hand over his. 
“Deacon, I’m pregnant.”

He spun her around, his eyes wide with surprise, and touched
her belly.  “You’re pregnant.”

“Yes.  I’m not very far along but I peed on a stick before
we left yesterday and it was positive.”

“But you’ve only been off the pill for a month,” he said. 
“Are you sure?”

“I told you my powers of fertility were strong, remember?” 
She said.

A boyish grin crossed his face and he rubbed her stomach
lightly.  “Hello, baby.”

“So you’re happy?”  She asked hesitantly.  “I know it’s
awfully quick but – “

“I’m happy, Claire,” he interrupted.  “I’ve never been
happier.  We should call Hattie and tell her.”

“No way,” she laughed.  “I don’t want to field a bunch of
questions over the phone about how babies are made.”

“Good point.”  He kissed her lightly and she put her arms
around his waist.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t care,” he said honestly.  “Either is fine with me.”

“Hattie will be pissed if it isn’t a girl,” Claire said.

“Probably,” Deacon agreed.  “But I’ll buy her a pony to make
up for it.”

Claire rolled her eyes before cupping his face and kissing
him softly on the mouth.  “I love you, Mr. Stone.”

“I love you too, Mrs. Stone.  Always.”

END

Thank you for reading my book!  Please enjoy an excerpt from my
newest contemporary book, “Shameless”.

“Shameless” will be available at all major ebook retailers in May
of 2016.

SHAMELESS

By Elizabeth Kelly

Copyright 2015 Elizabeth Kelly

My car dying was the final straw.  As the engine sputtered
and choked and coughed, I steered it to the side of the dark, silent road, shut
it off and rested my forehead on the steering wheel.  The hot tears slid down
my cheeks, tears that I had been desperately holding back for hours, and I let
loose with a primal scream of fury and despair that echoed in the quiet
interior of my car.

I screamed until my voice was hoarse, until the rage and
sorrow and utter disbelief that had been crowding my chest finally dissipated
enough for me to take my first deep breath in hours.  Panting harshly, I banged
my fist against the dead car’s dashboard before reaching for my purse. 

I moaned when I realized I didn’t have my cell phone.  Of
course I didn’t have it.  I had left it at home, determined to not have anyone
interrupt my night of seduction.  I had planned on making Jordan turn his off
as well.  I wanted the night to be perfect and hearing his damn phone chirping
every five minutes wasn’t a part of the perfect night.

I sighed and wiped at the tears still flowing down my face. 
Crying wasn’t going to help.  I needed to get my fat ass out of this car and
back to that bar I had passed a few miles back.  At the time I hadn’t given it
much thought, just a quick glance at the garish neon sign blinking in the
darkness as I had driven past it.  Now, it was my only chance.

If I had been thinking clearly, I might have decided to wait
in my car.  I might have taken my chance with the next person who drove down
that deserted country road.  But my mind was still reeling and my heart was
still breaking, and I wanted nothing more than to be back in my tiny, lonely
house.  I used to hate that house.  I used to dream nightly that Jordan would
invite me to live with him in his perfectly acceptable townhouse but now – I
wanted my home with a desperation born of panic and a desire to pretend that my
entire world hadn’t been blown apart around me.

Sniffing loudly, I grabbed my purse and my keys and climbed
out of the car.  I slammed the door harder than I needed to before trudging
wearily down the road.  It was cold and I pulled my thin wrap tighter around my
curvy body.  I glanced at my shoes, cursing myself in my head.  I’d be lucky if
I could even walk back to the bar in the damn things.  They were stilettos and
excruciatingly uncomfortable to walk in.  Of course, I had worn them tonight
with the intention of being fucked in them, not walking in them.

I put my head down and walked faster, teetering a little on
the damn heels before catching my balance.  The cold wind knifed across my
body.  I wasn’t dressed for the weather.  I tugged at my too-short dress and
tried to use the wrap to completely cover my bare arms. 

It was pointless.  The wrap was poor protection against the
wind and I wished bitterly that I was wearing my usual yoga pants and
cardigan.  At least then I’d be warmer.  Of course, one didn’t seduce their
fiancé in yoga pants and a cardigan, did they?  No, they seduced them with six
inch stilettos, stockings, barely-there underwear and the quintessential little
black dress.  At least, I had assumed one did.  After walking in on what I did,
obviously I was mistaken.  Or maybe it wouldn’t have even mattered.  He might
have been alone and still taken a look at my chubby body poured into this
ridiculous dress and rejected me like he had so often in the last six months. 
And why wouldn’t he?  He was handsome with a perfect body and a metabolism that
allowed him to eat whatever the fuck he wanted.  My overly-curvy body, my
constant struggle to lose weight, had often been an annoyance to him. 

It has nothing to do with you, Maddie.  You know that,
right?  He lied to you.  He hid the true him and strung you along for four
fucking years.  You’re better off without him.

A sob escaped my throat and I wiped savagely at the fresh
tears.  I needed to forget about Jordan and his fucking lies and concentrate on
getting home.

* * *

If I hadn’t been so fucking cold, if my feet hadn’t been
blistered and bleeding, I would have kept right on walking past the bar.  The
parking lot was filled with bikes and nothing but bikes, and the building
itself appeared to be on its last legs.  It looked rough and dangerous and
everything I had avoided my entire life but if I didn’t get out of the wind
soon, I really was going to freeze to death.

My entire body trembling from the cold, I climbed the rough
wooden steps and stared at the giant of a man blocking the front door.  He was
bald with tattoos scattered across his skull and he looked me up and down as I
cleared my throat nervously.

“Um, can I go in?”  I asked quietly.

The man grunted and I gave an anxious little squeal when he
suddenly reached out and touched my dark hair.  He gave me another once-over
before stepping aside and opening the door.

“Entertainment’s here, boys!”  He shouted and I took a step
back when I heard the roars of approval coming from within the bar.

“Go on, girl.  Ain’t no point in being shy now.”  The man
leered at me before grabbing my arm and nearly shoving me into the bar.

I stumbled in my heels, reaching out and grabbing on to the
nearest table in a desperate attempt to keep from falling flat on my face, and
breathed a sigh of relief at the warmth of the bar.  I was anxious to find the
ladies room so I could take my shoes off and rub some warmth back into my
frozen toes.  If I was lucky, maybe they’d have some Band-Aids I could slap on
my bleeding blisters.

I glanced up, my face going pale at the sight in front of
me.  The place didn’t look like a typical bar.  It had a long curved bar with a
mirror behind it and rows and rows of liquor bottles, and there were a few pool
tables scattered about but there was only a few tables and most of the seats were
torn and sagging couches and dirty overstuffed armchairs.  But it wasn’t the
décor that made my blood run cold.  Other than the bartender, the entire place
was filled with men and only men.  They were all big and tattooed and
absolutely dangerous looking, and every single one of them was staring at me
like I was a glass of water and they were dying of thirst.  I took a lurching
step backwards.

“I’m sorry.  I – I think I’m in the wrong place.”

I turned to flee.  I didn’t care how cold I was or how much further
I had to walk.  I had made a terrible mistake coming to this place.

“Where do you think you’re going, pretty little bitch?”  A
man reached out and snagged my arm, pulling me to a stop.

He squeezed my arm tightly as I swallowed thickly and stared
up at him.  He had long blond hair tied back in a ponytail and he was built
like a truck.  He studied me closely for a moment before his face broke out
into a wide grin.

“Only one tonight, boys, but I reckon she’s got enough meat
on her bones to handle us.  Don’t you?”  He shouted.

The men in the room laughed and I pulled against his grip. 
“I’m sorry.  This was a mistake, I don’t – “

“Shut up,” the man said softly.  “We ain’t paying you to
talk.”

He suddenly reached out and yanked my wrap away before he
reached for my large breast.  Without stopping to consider the consequences, I
slapped him as hard as I could across his face.

His head rocked back and he gave me his own look of surprise
before touching the blood on his lip.  “You’re going to pay for that, you
stupid bitch.”

He raised his arm and I cringed back.  Before he could slap
me, a hand caught his arm and yanked him away.

“Back the fuck off, Jenkins.  She belongs to me.”

“The fuck she does, Riley!”  Jenkins said in disbelief.

“The fuck she doesn’t!”  Riley snapped.

I stared numbly at the man standing next to Jenkins.  He was
a mountain of a man, and even though I was over six feet in my heels, I still
felt short next to him.  He was dressed in jeans and a tight blue t-shirt.  A
black leather vest clung to his broad shoulders and his thick neck was covered
in tattoos.  His dark hair was cut short and my eyes lingered on the scar that
was visible on his left temple.  His nose had obviously been broken a few
times, and he pushed Jenkins back before taking my arm and yanking me into his
embrace.

I had a quick fleeting glance of his dark blue eyes before
his mouth was claiming mine.  He shoved his tongue into my mouth as his hands
gripped my large ass and he pressed my pelvis into his.

He was warm, incredibly warm, and my frozen body
instinctively pressed into him, seeking out his heat like a bee to a flower. 
As his tongue licked and stroked mine, I was shocked to hear my soft moan and
even more surprised at the flicker of lust that lit in my belly.  In all of my
twenty-eight years, I had never once been kissed like this.  I had never been
so utterly and completely owned by a man’s mouth, and my hands clutched at his
broad shoulders as I kissed him back shamelessly.

He curved his tongue under my upper lip and sucked hard on
it, eliciting another soft moan, before he tore his mouth from mine.  I stared
dazedly at him, not entirely willing to believe that it was his erection I was
feeling against the curve of my belly, and he gave me a warning look before
sighing loudly.

“I told you not to drop by tonight, kitten.”  There was an
edge to his voice as he squeezed my waist, his fingers digging into my flesh,
and I knew instinctively that this man and his claim that I belonged to him was
the only thing that would save me tonight.

“I’m sorry, baby,” I said softly.  “My car broke down and I
didn’t know where else to go.”

He sighed again, giving me an angry look, before turning to
face the others.  He kept his arm around me, pressing me tightly against him as
he waved his hand at the men in the bar.  “Boys, this is kitten.  Kitten, these
are the boys.”

The men stared silently at me and I licked my lips
nervously.  “It’s nice to meet you.”

One of the older men, he had a long dark beard shot through
with streaks of grey, bellowed laughter.  “There ain’t no way in hell this
pretty little filly would ever be seen with your ugly mug, Rye.”

Riley scowled at him.  “What the fuck is that supposed to
mean?”

“He’s sayin’ you’re ugly, boy.”  Jenkins clapped him on the
back before giving me a once-over.  “And this bitch ain’t your type.”

“How the fuck would you know what my type is?”  Riley raised
his eyebrows at him.  “And stop looking at her like that or I’ll rip your
fucking eyeballs out of your head.  Got it?”

“Jaysus, boy.”  Jenkins gave him an exaggerated look of
hurt.  “Calm your jets.  I didn’t know she was your woman.  Fuck, you never
talk about her.”

“Maybe because I didn’t want you fucking leering at her like
the goddamn pervert you are.”

He took my hand and led me toward the door.  “C’mon,
kitten.”