A Player for A Princess

She goes to the door and leaves us alone. Carefully, I place my hand on his chest, just above his heart. I can’t feel it beating, but I see it on the screen. Leaning my head against my arm, I blink back the tears.

“Don’t leave me, MacCallum.” My voice breaks. “I can’t live without you.”

No change.

“I love you, my playboy prince,” I whisper, closing my eyes as more tears fall.

I’m alone in this dark room. The only sounds are the machines letting me know if he’s still with us or if he has slipped away.

This will be the room where my life ends.

I hold his hand to my cheek as grief overwhelms me.

30

A Wedding

Zelda

Sunlight streams through the blinds waking me, and I want to throw open the French doors to see what kind of a day my little sister gets for her wedding. Instead, I lay on my side for a moment, thinking about all that has happened in the past weeks and how much has changed.

I run my hands over my growing stomach, thankful for my little princess. She appeared at the most traumatic time of my life, and she has given me so much strength. She’s a treasured part of her daddy I will always have.

Closing my eyes, I wonder if she’ll have his warm hazel eyes. I wonder if she’ll love movies and pizza…

I’m pretty sure she’ll love pizza.

Tears appear in my eyes. I’ve gone from being a strong survivor who never cries to a weepy fount of pregnant-lady emotions. I suppose it’s warranted, but I’m still getting used to my heart spilling onto my cheeks at a moment’s notice.

With a sigh, I reach up to touch them away. My breath hiccups, and I don’t mean to shake the bed. Still, I’m busted. A strong arm goes around my waist, and warm lips move through my hair to the back of my neck, kissing down to my shoulder.

“Tears so soon?” Cal’s voice sends warm love filtering through my veins. “You should save them for the wedding.”

“Pregnancy hormones,” I say, turning to smile up at him.

His arms tighten around me, and he presses a light kiss to my lips, to the side of my jaw, to the base of my throat. “As long as they’re happy tears,” he says, giving me a smile.

“I’m so much more than happy. I guess that’s why it keeps running down my face.”

My hands are on his shoulders, and I can’t help loving the way the morning sun casts a warm glow over his skin. I trace my fingers lightly over the muscles in his arms. Lifting my head, I bury my nose in his chest, inhaling deeply his luscious cedar and citrus and Cal scent.

He’s here. He’s okay, and I’m so deeply grateful. The weeks of his slow but steady recovery were so difficult. I’ll never forget my dark night of the soul when we didn’t know if he would live or die. He was so weak, and the burning ache as I watched him cling to life was a torture I pray I never face again. The darkest hour truly was before dawn…

“Go back to sleep.” He moves down to rest his cheek against my breast.

“I’m too excited to sleep!” I squirm under the weight of his body against mine.

“Our little princess needs you to sleep,” he says, turning and pulling my back to his chest to spoon. Instead it presses his morning wood right against my ass.

“Somebody else is ready to party.”

That makes him laugh, and his hand slides down my stomach, catching the edge of my sleep shirt and moving under it.

“We will have very mellow sex then go back to sleep.” As he speaks, his lips graze my neck right behind my ear and chills scatter down my body, pooling desire low in my belly.

Reaching behind me, I thread my fingers into the side of his hair. “You don’t know the meaning of the phrase mellow sex.”

“You’re right. I want you to ride me like a bull in one of those Western rodeos.”