Wethering the Storm (The Storm 2)

I could feel her tears soaking through my nightie, and she was hurting my C-section scar. I didn’t say a thing. She needed to hug me, and I needed a hug from her.

“You don’t get rid of me that easy,” I said into her hair, holding back my own tears.

“Hey, let a guy in, will you?” Stuart joked.

Giving me one last squeeze, Simone moved off me.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Stuart sat on the bed beside me. I could see his eyes shining with tears. Seeing him looking at me like that made the tears I’d been holding in spill over. Stuart took my face in his hands and kissed me square on the lips. “You frightened the shit out of me, chica. Don’t ever do it again,” he whispered close to my lips.

“Cross my heart.” I smiled, making the sign over my chest.

“Good girl.” Rubbing my tears away with his thumb, he moved off the bed and sat on one of the chairs.

“Where’s JJ?” Simone asked, glancing around the room.

“Jake took him downstairs for his checkup in the NICU.”

“The little guy’s doing okay?” Stuart asked.

“He’s doing great.” Without fail, the thought of JJ brought a smile to my face.

“Stuart and I really wanted to come and see you last night, but Jake said you were exhausted from your folks visiting and all the tests, so he said we would have to wait until this morning to see you,” Simone said.

“I was pretty zapped,” I said.

I was knackered yesterday, but I think Jake put them off because he wanted some alone time with me, after having to share me for the best part of the day. And honestly, I wanted time with him too.

“Did you get the flowers I sent yesterday?” Simone asked, glancing around at the numerous bouquets of flowers and cards around the room.

“I did, and I got yours too,” I added, glancing at Stuart. “They’re gorgeous. Thank you.”

Stuart waved me off, in that way he does.

“Looks like you didn’t need any more, though, you’ve got tons,” Simone said, getting up from her seat. She started checking out the bouquets and reading the cards. “Holy fuck!” she exclaimed, spinning on the spot, waving a card around. “Did you seriously get a bouquet of flowers from the president?”

I laughed. That had been my exact reaction when they arrived first thing this morning.

“Apparently, when you’re the fiancée of Jake Wethers and you’re in a serious car accident, it qualifies you for big-time flowers. I seriously doubt he ordered them himself, but it’s still really nice.”

“No kidding! Bloody hell,” she muttered. “I’d frame this card if I were you.”

“Oh, I will. I’ve already asked Jake to order me a frame.” I laughed. But I wasn’t kidding, I actually had.

I watched her put the card back in with the flowers and sit down in the chair by my bed.

“So how are you doing?” I asked, looking at the bandage on her wrist, noticing the yellow bruises on her face.

“I’m good.” She smiled. It looked a little forced.

“Simone…,” I pushed.

“Really, I’m fine. My injuries were minor compared to—”

It was at that moment she chose to brush her hair away from her face.

“Holy fuck!” I said, reaching forward, grabbing her left hand. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Jesus Christ!” Stuart said, pulling her hand from mine to examine the huge-ass rock on her finger. “How in the hell did I miss this? I must be losing my touch!” He scratched his head.

“Oh my God! You’re getting married!” I squealed. I didn’t even care that it hurt my throat. “To Denny!”

“Yes.” She looked a little sheepish. “He asked me last night.”

“Arghh!” Stuart and I cried in unison. “This is awesome!”

“Yeah.” She looked down at her hands and started picking at her nails. Simone only does that when she’s worried about something.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, concerned. “You do want to marry Denny, don’t you?”

“Of course I do. I just…” She let out a sigh. “I just feel a bit shitty.” She looked up at me. “You’re here in the hospital recovering after being in a coma for a week, and I come to visit you…I just feel bad being excited about this.”

“Don’t be soft,” I chastised. “This is exactly the kind of news I need to hear right now. And you were in that accident too, Simone—you deserve happiness more than anyone I know. So come on, tell us. How did he ask?”

Her expression turned doe-eyed and I knew I had her. “After Jake wouldn’t let us see you, I was a bit bummed, so Denny suggested we go out for dinner.” She bit down on a smile, and I could see how happy she was. “We ate at an Italian restaurant near his place, and he was acting a little odd all night, but I just let it go. Then on the way back to his house, he suggested going for a walk in Echo Park. We walked for a bit, and then he stopped me up by the lake, got down on one knee, pulled a ring box out, and said, ‘I bought this ring a month ago, and I’ve been carrying it around with me ever since, trying to find the right way to ask you to marry me. The day of the accident, coming so close to losing you, I wanted to ask you then, but it seemed out of place with everything that was going on. But now Tru’s awake, I’m not waiting any longer.’ He took a deep breath and said, ‘Will you marry me?’ Then he popped open the box and pulled the ring out. I cried, and said yes.”

“God love that boy,” Stuart said as we both let out a dreamy sigh.

“Does that mean you’ll be moving here?” I asked, hoping and praying.

She grinned. “We haven’t really talked everything through yet, but yeah, I reckon I’ll be moving here.”

So thanks to the ever-gorgeous Denny, I get to see Simone practically every day.

And thanks to Jake using his contacts, he managed to help get Simone an interview for a top PR firm in LA, and of course she got the job.

She handed her notice in at her old firm and officially moved out here two weeks ago.

She and Denny are getting married this December. A winter wedding. I can’t wait! JJ is going to be page boy and I’m the maid of honor.

With the way things are looking, Simone and Denny will be married before Jake and me.

It’s funny how things work out.

Jake and I haven’t talked about when we’re getting married. In all honesty, we’ve talked about everything but, and I’m not really sure why.

Actually, talking is the only thing Jake and I have done since I got out of the hospital. We haven’t made love since before the accident.

Jake hasn’t made a move on me. But then, neither have I with him.

I guess I’m feeling self-conscious about my body after the accident and having JJ.

There was no way we were having sex in the hospital. I was healing, for starters, and toward the end, when I was almost better…well, it just wasn’t happening there. Now we’ve been home for two weeks. We kiss, but it has yet to go further than that.

I’m not sure why. Well, I know why on my part, but not on Jake’s.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried.

But then, Jake has so much going, taking care of me and JJ.

I’m sure we’ll get back to that side of our relationship soon.

I have a lot to be happy about. I’m with the man I love, the man I was always destined to be with, and together we have the most beautiful baby boy this world has ever seen.

Speaking of my baby boy, I’m missing him at the moment.

He’s with my mum and dad. And I’m in a car right now, destination unknown.

You see, Jake has a surprise for me, and Dave is driving me to that surprise. You know what that means…yep, I’m blindfolded.

Dave is still my bodyguard and driver.

When I found out that Dave had spent the vast duration of the time I was in the coma guarding my room, I asked Jake to bring him in to see me.

We talked for a long time.

Dave blamed himself for the accident, which was crazy, and I told him so. There was no way he could have prevented the accident any more than me or Simone could have. The only one who could have prevented it is buried in a cemetery right now.

I would, and still do, trust Dave with my life.

That doesn’t mean that riding in a car is easy for me now, because it’s not.

It’s a challenge I face every day.

The first ride I had to take in a car after the accident was horrendous. It was the day I left the hospital. I was shaking with nerves. Even though I don’t remember the crash, just knowing I was in one was enough.

It took me nearly twenty minutes before I could muster up the courage to get in.

I sat in the back with JJ, who was in his car seat, while Jake drove us home. I focused on JJ the entire time. It felt like the longest car ride of my life.

I can’t remember ever being so afraid.

But I had to do it. I can’t spend the rest of my life fearing being in a car.

I’m slowly getting there. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still jittery every time I’m in a car. Just like I am now. But it’s getting better.

“How much longer?” I ask Dave from the backseat, fingers curled around the edge of the seat, my foot nervously tapping the mat under my ballet pumps. I know I sound like a whiny kid in the back of her parents’ car, but Dave is used to my angst. He understands it. He’s the only other person aside from Simone who does.

“Another five minutes at the most,” he replies.

“How long has it been already?”

“Thirty minutes. We’ll be there real soon, I promise. Try to relax. I’m taking it real steady, and I’m sticking to the speed limit. You remember what I told you?”

“That lightning doesn’t strike twice.” I exhale. It’s a motto Dave told me to remember while in the car.

“We’re golden, Tru. I promise you.”

“Okay.” I loosen my death grip from around the seat, trying to relax. “You definitely can’t tell me where it is I’m going?”

He lets out a deep chuckle. “More than my life’s worth.”

“Figured,” I grumble, folding my arms across my chest.

I’m so ready to find out what this surprise is and get back to JJ.

I haven’t seen Jake all day, or Stuart for that matter. They’ve both been quite absent since we arrived in Manchester. I’ve not minded, though. I know Jake is here for business, and I’ve kept busy with JJ and spending time with Mum and Dad.

I was expecting them back at dinnertime, but then I received this cryptic text message from Jake at three in the afternoon, telling me he has a surprise for me. I’m to leave JJ with my mum and dad, get in the car with Dave, put on this bloody blindfold, and he’d see me soon.

So here I am, driving to wherever my surprise is.

I lean my head back against the headrest and fold my arms in my lap, fiddling with my engagement ring. “Can you put some decent music on? This song is driving me nuts.” It’s some annoying boy band I’ve never heard of before. “Oh, but not Pearl Jam,” I add. “I don’t want to tempt fate and set that lightning to strike twice.”