Our Turn

The glint of white teeth I saw when the doctor gave us the results as well as the way his shoulders relaxed a bit make me flush with heat.

The emotions that have traversed through me in the last fifteen minutes have me exhausted but exhilarated at the same time. The man I thought was my father, isn’t. And in a way that is painful. Disappointing.

It means I’m back to square one. I’m fatherless.

On the other hand, it sure relieves all that shame I’ve been carting around thinking I was having all these lustful thoughts about my own dad.

He’s standing still at the side of the bed. The doctor just excused himself, leaving us here alone, and I feel like I’m walking a tightrope over a pit of vipers. Every word, every movement has the potential to take my breath from me.

God, he’s so close.

Closer than ever and I can smell him. I even think I feel heat radiating from him. I breathe him in. A scent that sends wildfire running through my veins.

Frightening emotions race through me and my heart feels like it’s on the verge of its limits. I’m not sure what to say or do. My palms are sweaty, and there’s a deep tension between my legs.

“Well, how do you feel?” Geo turns and faces me, making me feel tiny next to his enormous frame.

I lift a shoulder to my ear, trying to choose my words.

“Relieved it’s just a fatty liver.” I roll my eyes and tick my head back and forth rubbing my feet together under the covers.

“And the other part?” He clears his throat, and I watch his tongue swipe over his top teeth under his mustache, and he runs one hand down the length of his beard. “I’m not your father. Seems you knew about me, but I didn’t know about you. You knew who I was when you were picking up Mrs. Morrison, didn’t you?”

I shift under the blankets, overheating but unable to throw them back and expose myself, clad only in this miserable hospital gown.

“I did. Mom told me you lived near Detroit. When she got sent away…” I pause on that word and clarify. “She went to prison, I mean. Well, the night before she had to go, she told me about you. She was drunk, told me your name and where you’d lived in the past and as far as she knew you were still here. I had nowhere else to go, no one else in Oklahoma I wanted to be around particularly, so as soon as I’d dealt with everything back there, I came here. It was just crazy fate that you were on my route with Mrs. Morrison.”

He nods, and his black eyes don’t leave my face, making my insides quiver.

“You ready to go then?” he asks, and I shake my head.

“What?”

“Ready to get out of here.” He turns to look at the door then back at me, and there’s something different in his eyes making my belly flip. “Doctor said you can leave. I want to take you out. I want to spend time with you.”

“But,” I squint one eye at him. “You don’t have to. You’re not responsible for me. I mean, the doctor said you’re not my—”

“I don’t care about that.” His voice rumbles, and he’s got me in his crosshairs. “Something brought us here. I believe things happen for reasons and I’m thinking there’s a reason I’m standing here.” He points down at the ground. There’s a calm control about him, his words seem emotionless, but behind his eyes I see much more. “So, I’ll step outside. You’ll get dressed, and you’ll come with me.”

“Where?”

“First, I’ll take you home so you can change. Take a shower. I’m sure being in here for the night you’d like that. Then, I’m taking you out. I’ll decide where but we’re going to look at that list of foods you are and are not supposed to eat and that will help me determine where we go. I’ll knock before I come back in.”

With that, he reaches down, pinches a strand of my hair in his fingers and twists it for a moment. I swear I hear a rumble or a moan come from his chest then he turns and makes his way out the door of the room, leaving me panting and squeezing my thighs together on the verge of an orgasm.

Which half an hour ago would have been the most inappropriate reaction in the world.

But now…

I fling back the blankets and grab the plastic bag the hospital gave me for my clothes and personal items early this morning when I came to the emergency room in the taxi.

In the tiny bathroom, I dress and glance in the mirror. My hair could use a brush, and my face is flushed pink. I look down at my too big jeans and men’s oxford. I tie the shirt up at the waist instead of letting it hang down as I usually do, then slip my feet into my black loafers and take a deep breath.