She says faintly, “Um. You might want to turn around.”
Frowning, I look over my shoulder. Then I see what she’s looking at, and my stomach drops, my lungs seize, and my pulse skyrockets.
The dark-haired man in the booth is gorgeous, but I can tell with one glance that he’s also trouble. A wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing. In a conservative black suit and white dress shirt, he could be any other businessman enjoying a drink with friends after work.
Except he’s alone.
And he’s not enjoying himself.
He looks how I feel: miserable.
Tears well in my eyes. My chest constricts. With the scar on his face and his hair buzzed short like Axel’s, he looks so much the same as the last time I saw him but also very different.
He’s thinner. Paler. But dear God, how those blue eyes still burn.
To the right of his booth is an empty wheelchair.
I’m on my feet without making a conscious decision. I run across the bar, dodging tables and almost knocking a waiter off his feet, then throw myself into Cole’s outstretched arms and burst into tears.
I cry and cry as he holds me tightly, rocking me and murmuring my name over and over like a prayer.
Still sobbing I say, “It’s you. You’re here. How are you here?”
He answers in a voice impossibly warm and soft. “I finally realized I was never going to get rid of you. I knew you’d keep coming back, like mold. Oh, and Scotty sent me your memo with a courier. I figured since I’d carved my name on your heart, I should probably claim it.”
I want to pound a fist on his shoulder, but only cling to him instead, relief and euphoria burning through me. “But how are you here?”
“Just lucky timing, I guess.”
Wet faced and hiccupping, I pull away and look at him.
His smile is small and breathtakingly beautiful. “Okay, fine, I called the chief and had him put one of his guys on you.”
“His guys? You mean a police officer?”
“Yes.”
“You had me tailed by the police?”
“It sounds bad when you say it.”
“Because it is bad!”
“It was only the one time. I just wanted to see where you’d be today so I could come surprise you.”
“Baloney!”
He sighs. “Not even two minutes in, and you’re already hollering at me.”
I decide I’ll be mad later. Right now, I’m too overwhelmed to do anything but cup his face in my hands and kiss him.
Against my mouth, he murmurs, “I’m fucked up, baby. I’m really fucked up.”
“Don’t care. Stop talking and kiss me.”
“It’s not gonna be easy. I’ve got a long road ahead. I won’t ever be the same as I was.”
“You’re alive, Cole. You’re alive, and I love you. Everything else is details.”
I kiss him all over his face, not caring that people are probably staring or that our lives will be complicated or that I might never get to feel him inside me again.
The only thing I care about is him.
After a moment, I stop kissing him and frown. “Cole?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Did you by any chance forget to take anything out of your pockets?”
“No. Why?”
“It’s just that something’s poking me in the butt.”
When he smiles a knowing smile, I lose my breath.
“But I thought…you said…”
“The only other time it happened is when this nurse was giving me a sponge bath in the hospital. It was pretty embarrassing, but he told me not to worry about it.” His smile grows wider. “I mean, he was pretty cute, though. Way cuter than a hairless Chihuahua.”
I’m crying again. Crying and laughing at the same time. Then he’s crying too, and kissing me, and telling me over and over that he loves me.
And that I don’t look like a hairless Chihuahua, not even a little bit.
Epilogue
Cole
Two months later
It’s the little things that get me. The intimate little things nobody else sees but me.
How she looks when she wakes up first thing in the morning. The way she combs her hair, puts on her makeup, yawns late at night when she’s sleepy, closes her eyes when she takes the first sip of coffee in the morning.
How she smiles when I touch her.
How she sighs when I kiss her.
How she cries after she comes.
Most of the time it’s with my fingers or tongue, but those little blue pills sure do come in handy. God bless big pharma.
Now if only they could manufacture a drug that would make me walk like I used to, I’d be all set.