Consolation (Consolation Duet #1)(17)

I wish I had the confidence he does. It must be nice to be the one who doesn’t have to sit around and worry. They go and do. They fight and live off the high while the families sit around and wonder. We don’t know if they’re okay. We just suffer through it. Now, I sit here months after my last tragedy and wonder if my daughter is going to be okay.

He sits beside me and I lean on his shoulder. I’m exhausted both physically and emotionally. What the f*ck else is life going to throw at me? Once again, I have to be strong though.

Aarabelle rests and I close my eyes. Liam’s strong arm wraps around me and I take the comfort he offers. I inhale his sandalwood and musk scent, and it calms me. I love the smell of a man. I miss the smell of a man. Especially this kind of man—one that exudes strength, confidence, and dominance. They command the space around them.

I focus on how secure I feel in this moment. The way I used to feel when Aaron would hold me. I think of the letter he wrote urging me to love again. Could I give another man a chance to hold me like this? Right now . . . I don’t know. But being in Liam’s embrace makes me want to be open to the idea.

Something shakes me gently and I open my eyes. The hospital smell hits me first and I realize I must’ve drifted off to sleep. Rubbing my eyes, I sit up and Liam stretches. His shirt lifts and I see the ripples of his abdomen. Look away, Natalie.

“Mrs. Gilcher?”

I nod and head over toward the nurse. “Yes.”

“We’re going to take Aarabelle for her scan. She’ll be about forty minutes. You can wait here or you can come up and wait outside. It’s totally up to you.”

“I’ll come with,” I say matter-of-factly. There’s no way in hell you’re keeping me away from her.

Liam places his hand on my shoulder. “I’m going to run and get some coffee. Need anything?”

My heart swells at his concern. “No, I’m good. Thank you for being here.”

“I’ll always be here for you, Lee.”

“I know. You promised him.”

His thumb grips my chin and he forces me to look at him. Blue eyes shimmer with some unnamed emotion. I want to look away, break the connection, because I feel it. I feel something and I don’t want to. I’m not ready. It’s way too soon, but it’s there, starting to make its way through me, and I’m terrified he’ll see it. The need to close my eyes becomes intense, but I can’t, or maybe I really don’t want to. Maybe I want him to see it, but God, if I’m not scared. “Go with Aarabelle,” he says as his hand drops.

My cheeks paint red and I close my eyes finally. Shit. I was wrong. Maybe he doesn’t feel anything for me.

“Ma’am?” The nurse calls to me as she unlocks the wheels on Aarabelle’s crib.

“Ready,” I say, knowing I feel anything but. This is all too much and my feelings couldn’t have come at a worse time. I need to focus on my baby and then I can worry about myself and my stupid feelings.





Waiting is agony. Waiting sucks. Waiting is all we seem to be doing.

“You should head home,” I grumble as I snuggle into Liam’s chest. I want him to want to leave. Which is stupid because he’s my pillow right now, but if he wants to go, this nagging, festering feeling inside might leave me alone.

Liam sags in the chair so I have a more comfortable position, and the rumble of his laughter vibrates through his chest. It’s now 5 A.M. and no one but Aarabelle is sleeping. “I’ll leave right now if that’s what you really want.”

Butterflies stir in my belly. What do I want? I wish I knew.

“Nah,” my reluctant reply falls out. “I need my pillow. I’m going to keep using you for now.”

“You can use me anytime, Lee.”

I can reply or choose to pretend. I’m going with pretending. The nursing staff has the world’s worst or best timing, depending on how I want to look at this, because she strides in to check on Aara. My head rises and I head over to be close to her.

“We’re just checking her fever again,” she explains and begins to assess her vitals.

Standing next to my daughter while they check her again, the fear gnaws its way up. Wondering whether the fever has come down any lower, and if not, what’s the next step? She looks at the thermometer and shakes her head no. She’s still running around 101, but at least we’re out of the danger zone.

“Are the test results back from her scan?” I ask.

“I’ll check on it, but the doctor will be in as soon as we know anything.” She smiles and grips my hand. “It’s a good thing the fever isn’t rising.”

I close my eyes and nod. I guess it’s good. I wish she wasn’t sick at all, but I’m happy Liam is here. The waiting has been agony and I can’t imagine not having his support. I look over at him as he rests in the recliner and fight the urge to giggle. This six-foot, bulky man is spilling over this tiny chair. His legs almost touch the crib Aarabelle is asleep in and his arms practically touch the ground. It’s comical. His hair is a mess and his three-day-old beard only makes him look more adorable. He was always handsome, but the more I look at him, I see the small things. The crinkle around his eyes and the scar on his forearm that add to his appeal. He’s going to make some woman very happy.

“Are you done staring?” he grumbles with one eye open.