The sight of my mother lying in the hospital bed with her head all bandaged up made me stop short. It was only the fact that Jameson had a gentle hand on my back that kept me standing.
"Hey Mom," I whispered.
She blinked a little and then opened her eyes all the way. "I'm fine," she complained, immediately trying to sit back up again. "Stop looking at me like I'm dead."
I smiled. "I'm not looking at you like you're dead," I sighed. "What the heck happened?"
She looked over to Jameson with a softness in her face that I'd rarely seen. Other than when she looked at Malcolm, of course. "Why don't you ask your man over there?" she asked me. "Seems to me he's some kind of guardian angel."
"Lucky charm," Jameson corrected with a grin.
Hot shame flooded me and I turned to him. "I guess I should have asked you that from the beginning, huh?" I said, shifting Malcolm in my arms.
He shrugged and gave me that smile. The one that made the corners of his eyes crinkle so beautifully. "I figured you'd get around to it."
"Near as I can tell," my mom piped up. "He just sort of showed up and saved us."
I widened my eyes at Jameson who shrugged again. "I had a bad feeling." He tapped his stomach. "In my gut. Literally. Felt like a knife."
"And you came all the way back to Reckless Falls from..."
"Boston," he supplied. "There are probably a few pissed off people sitting in a conference room there, waiting for me, actually."
"Boston," I breathed, hardly believing what he was saying. "You had a bad feeling..."
"A bad gut feeling," he interjected.
I shook my head. "And you just flew in from Boston to make sure everything was okay?"
He grinned. "It sort of wasn't though, so..."
I turned back to my mom who winced. "I was bending over to grab Mac's raccoon blanket off the floor before I tripped on the infernal thing," she explained. "The way the doctor explained it, it was a pretty bad time to have a dizzy spell." She rubbed her head ruefully. "Hit my head on the coffee table and down I went."
"Mom," I sighed, choking back the tears. I blinked up at the ceiling.
"Bled like a stuck pig too," my mom chuckled. "Seems like that damn medicine affects clotting too."
"If you hadn't come..." I whispered to Jameson.
"Someone would have seen Malcolm," he said, reaching over and grabbing my son's hand. "Little intrepid dude decided to go find help."
"He really got all three locks open?" I shuddered. "Okay, time for more childproofing."
"High five, little man," Jameson said to Malcolm, holding up his hand. "Do you know high-five? Like this. Hit my hand, hard as you can."
"Da," Malcolm said, then leaned back and whaled on Jameson's hand as with all the force his twenty-pound body could muster.
I blinked rapidly, biting my lip. My eyes felt like they were leaking, tears just sliding down my face without my permission.
"Hi there?" A nurse came to the door, gently tapping it open. "I need to take Malcolm to get his vitals one more time."
I nodded. "Mom, are you okay with me going?"
She looked at me and Jameson. "Is he going with you?"
"Yes," he said at the same time I asked, "Why does that matter?"
"Here," the nurse said. "I'll take him down for you." She reached for Malcolm who squirmed and yelled.
"I'm coming down," I bleated, tearing my eyes away from Jameson and turning to follow. "I'm coming, baby."
But Jameson stepped forward, grabbing my arm. "Hey," he said, pulling me to the side of the hallway. "I have to tell you something."
"My baby..."
"He's fine. He's with a nurse. Just..." He looked almost nauseous. "Please." He poked his head into the room behind me. "There's no one in here, just for a second, please."
"Stop pulling me!" I cried. But I let him pull me into the empty room and lock the door behind us because there was something I needed to tell him too. Something I didn't think I would get a chance to say.
"Charlie," he choked, leaning his head back against the door. "Fuck."
"Was that what you wanted to tell me?" I snarked, unable to keep from lashing out. There was an empty space in my chest as wide as he was.
"No," he growled angrily, stepping forward. "I wanted to tell you," his hands shook as they circled my waist.
And then suddenly all my rage boiled up, and for some reason, I was kissing him, and the kiss started out like I was trying to bite him, consume him like I was trying to devour him right here and now so that he couldn't leave again. So that he would become part of me and I could carry him around with me when I needed him, but I was powerless against the assault of his lips on mine, as he kissed me back with just much urgency if not more.
We went crashing backwards, slamming into the empty bed With a growl, he whirled me around, lifting me up into his arms and I suddenly found myself airborne as he held me in his arms, still kissing me. I was frantic, electric, I felt like a hurricane with gale force winds was rushing through my head, drowning out every thought so that only my need for him remained. It made no sense how he could have utterly bewitched me, how he could already possess me, body and soul after being in my life for such a short time, but each moment that he kissed me stretched out into an eternity, and I lived a million lives between each breath and each one of them was perfect because I was with him.
With a whimper, I threw my arms around his head, pulling him down closer, not even needing the air I breathed, only needing him, his lips, his tongue, his sighs and his swearing. He growled against my lips, and turned around, backing me up against the wall. In two motions, he had my hands pinned up above my head, pressing his body flush against mine. With a little whimper, I hitched my skirt up higher, giving him access, giving him everything I had, if only, only he would give it all back to me.
And he did, he was already so hard, and when his cock slid inside of me, I nearly wept with relief. "Charlie," he gasped, his lips against my neck, already so having me so close. "Charlie," he repeated, moving his hand in time with his thrusts. I shrieked, burying my face into his neck, biting down before throwing my head back. "Yes, yes," he told me, practically begging, and it was that note in his voice, that pleading wonderment that belied every cocky, insolent smile of his. His voice was thick with need, and it sent me over the brink, and I couldn't believe how fast I was coming but also couldn't believe how long it took me to realize that I wasn't angry with him, I was angry with myself for trying to be done with him. I was angry with myself for shutting the door on the man I loved.