Heather's Heart Read online

  I learned that he hated doing dishes, but hated using the dishwasher even more. He snored. The first time he fell asleep watching a movie with me I just about jumped out of the couch until I tracked down the rumbling sound. It reminded me of a huge cat purring.

  We didn't clash, in fact he went over board to make me feel welcome and wanted, and he was normal. He cussed at his computer a lot, something that still made me giggle. But mostly, there was the fact that I still felt like I was using him or taking advantage. He treated me like a revered guest, but by that Friday I just wanted to go home to my own bed and my own stuff.

  "You're ready to go home aren't you?"

  The question caught me by surprised, and I looked at him over my ice cream. Staying with him had done nothing good for my waist line, but I didn't really care. Curling up and eating ice cream with a warm man next to me on the couch counted as the best comfort activities ever.

  I ducked my head again and then sighed. "Yeah, I am. Don't get me wrong, you've been awesome, and I couldn't have asked for more, but..." I didn't know how to put it all into words, that I needed my me space back again

  Chris grinned. "I'll take you home in the morning. You're moving without as much pain, so I'm sure you'll be fine. Just promise to call if you need anything?" His eyes held an odd hopeful look and I grinned back.

  "Promise."

  Sure enough, the next morning, as soon as I imbibed my life giving juice, Chris was smart enough to know we both needed that prior to functioning, we headed home.

  Hobbling into my house, this walking cast was getting old quick, I felt like I'd been gone for a year, instead of five days. The air was a bit stuffy, so I flipped on the AC. Chris followed me in, looking around. I took a look and tried to see it from his point of view. Neat, not much clutter, books - lots of books- comfortable but clean. My personality was there, and much of John's stuff had been put away, but his face still smiled at me from the occasional picture or knick-knack.

  Chris walked towards the engagement picture. "This the two of you?"

  "Yes. The wedding one is in the bedroom. I needed to have it closer."

  "He looks like a nice man." The comment was honest, and it didn't come across as a dismissal, something in me relaxed a bit.

  "He could be. He could also be a bit of a jerk at times. And there were days I wanted to strangle him."

  Chris looked at me, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. "So he was human?"

  "Exactly."

  "Good." He turned and walked over to me. "A human I can live with, I don't think I could compete with a saint."

  I burst out into giddy laughter, both with relief and awareness of how close he was to me. If I breathed deeply my breasts might bump into him. "Trust me a saint he wasn't. He had lots of flaws."

  "Again, human. That I can deal with."

  My response was derailed by his hands wrapping around my waist and pulling me snug to him. "I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

  A lump formed in my throat, blocking my ability to talk, so all I could do was nod, even as my heart started to do cartwheels in my chest. Time slowed to a slo-mo run, and all I could do was enjoy it as he tilted my head back, and brushed his lips over mine.

  I didn't hold back, try to play coy or anything else. I wanted to be touched so badly. My mouth opened as I leaned into him, kissing him back with all the longing that had built up over the last week, with both of us guarding our hearts so carefully.

  Time disappeared as his lips moved over mine, and his whiskers scraped against my face. The slight roughness just made it more real for me, and I moaned into his mouth. Chris pulled back, eyes wide, lips swollen, and I figured I looked the same.

  "Heather," he stopped looking at me and his lips curved gently at the edges. "You are something else." He dropped a soft kiss on my lips, but then stepped back letting me go. Much to my disappointment

  "We need to stop. Because if we don't, this won't end until we are in bed together, and I think that is moving too fast for either of us. Besides," he added with a heated smile, "when I make love to you, I want you concentrating on how I make you feel. Not how much you hurt."

  The word 'when' sent electricity running through my veins, and I looked at him, trying not to my hopes up too high. "You sure?"

  "Heather, it's been a long time since I've been so sure about anything." He looked around the house. "You need me to do anything before I leave?"

  I thought about it for a minute, but since I could move now, not really. "No, I think I'm good."

  "Okay. I'll bring you dinner tomorrow?"

  The smile that creased my face probably make me look like a smiling lunatic, but I didn't care.

  "I'd like that."

  "Good." He moved in and dropped one last lingering kiss on my lips, and then he slipped out the front door. Leaving me standing there with that same stupid smile on my face as I heard the car leave.

  "Get your act together woman. Yeesh, you've been kissed before." The sound of my voice acted as a slap to get my brain working.

  True, but it had been a long time since the rush and thrill of newness. Hopefully that wasn't all this was.

  No, this was more. At least I think it is, and I'll be damned if I quit without finding out.

  With those thoughts I got busy hobbling around, doing laundry, and figuring out how to set up my computer to work with my leg up. Dinner that Saturday was soup from a can, but I made it, and just knowing I could do that much again and only take Advil made all the difference.

  Sunday found me awake early, so I spent it cleaning and picking up, albeit slowly. I logged in to work, finally thinking clearly enough to deal with paperwork, and basically wasted time waiting for Chris to show up.

  The doorbell rang about 5:30, and I almost tripped again trying to get to it.

  What was it with me and rushing to the door and almost killing myself?

  I swung it open forgetting to check. Chris stood there, smiling at me, grocery bags in his hands.

  "I brought stuff to make for dinner for you."

  "Oh really? What?"

  "Your favs, mac & cheese, broccoli to steam, and flank steak."

  I think I fell a little bit in love with him at that moment. It had been idle conversation while the movie was set up. What is your favorite casual dinner? And he remembered.

  "Hmm, not sure I can afford that level of service. What do you charge?" I leaned against the door jamb, smiling up at him.

  "Oh, I'm pretty expensive. At least two kisses, and maybe second base?"

  I choked on my laughter. "We'll see. Come on in." I stepped back, letting him through and shut the door behind him.

  He did get to second base that night, but then he went home to both of our disappointment and agreement. Monday dawned on me trying to create a new routine with getting up and working from home. People were glad to hear from me, asked lots of 'How are you doing' questions, and per usual work had stacked up. But it had the advantage of keeping me busy, though by the end of the day I just hurt again, absolutely exhausted. All I could think of was pain pills. The doorbell rang, and I struggled to get up to answer it.

  I pulled it open leaning on it, and even Chris standing there couldn't make me smile.

  "You okay?" His voice filled with concern as he stepped in.

  All I wanted to do was find something to stop the pain and fall asleep. But I wanted to see him. I tried to smile, but I think it looked like a grimace of pain.

  "Oh, H. Come on." Before I could move he had lifted me up and was carrying me down the hall.

  "Eep," slipped out and adrenaline flashed through me. "Don't hurt yourself."

  He chuckled, something sexy and deep, and I wished I had the energy to follow up on that promise. "I work with my men. You don't weigh much more than two bags of cement."

  I snorted at that. "Bags of cement don't weigh what I do, but thanks. Next door." He nudged open the door to my bedroom, and I didn't care about anything except lying down on my messy bed. With gentle
ness I had come to expect he set me down on it.

  "Where are your pills?"

  I had to think for a moment. "Bathroom," I waved at the door to the master bathroom, "on the counter."

  He disappeared back down the hall, then came back with some water and grabbed the pills from the bathroom.

  "Here. You know you aren't supposed to push it that hard."

  I swallowed the water and pills eagerly. I slumped back and closed my eyes. "Didn't realize I had. Figured sitting and working at my computer, no effort. That's what I get for thinking."

  Chris chuckled. "Want me to stay? Cook?"

  Food didn't even sound good, but I did need to do something.

  "Nah, but would you bring me the keys hanging up in the kitchen? Not the one with the Lego figurine. The others."

  An arched eyebrow, but he left and came back a minute later keys on a black carabiner in his hand. "These?"

  "Yes." I took them from him, and with a bit of concentration, really way more than what it should have taken, I pulled off a key. "Here, take this. Tired of almost killing myself trying to answer the door. Knock and come on in."

  His jaw dropped a bit in astonishment, it was not one of his better looks, as he blinked at me. "Heather, you don't need to do this."

  "I know. I want to. You could have done anything you wanted in the week I was with you. I've got no reason not to trust you."

  The bob of his Adams apple as he swallowed made me smile, but that had exhausted my energy. "Night, sexy."

  "Sexy?"

  Darkness took me before I could process I said that out loud.

  8

  The preset alarm pulled me out of my sleep, dreamless, but I still had to fight to wake up. The shower helped, thank god for the light cast I could shower in, otherwise I might not have been able to function. Dressed, more awake I moved towards the kitchen to stop in surprise.

  It was spotless.

  I wasn't a slob, but I'd been taking the easy way out and putting dishes in the sink until I had the energy to deal with them. They were all gone, everything clean, the coffee maker ready for me to start it, and a handwritten note on printer paper sat there waiting for me.

  H -

  I don't think you know how turned on I am by the fact you think I'm sexy. I think you're sexy too.

  Dinner tonight? Maybe if you aren't quite so exhausted? Call me.

  Chris

  My body flushed with heat as last night snapped into my brain, crystal clear without the need of caffeine.

  "Oh dear god, I didn't."

  Memories asserted themselves, along with the knowledge that I did. The only saving grace was I would have a few hours before I had to see him in person, and maybe by then I could figure out why in the world I said that.

  Cause you think he's sexy and want to jump his bones?

  The thought didn't leave any room for me to hide and I sighed and started the coffee maker. Maybe a way out of my foot insertion would appear after coffee.

  Coffee in hand I fired up my computer, my phone near me as I started in on the day. With one cup of coffee down, most of my morning routine done, I headed into the kitchen for more coffee when my phone chimed. Deciding whoever it was could wait for a full cup of coffee I didn't pick up my phone until I had the sanity saving brew in my hand.

  *Morning H*

  The coffee went down the wrong pipe and I tried not to choke, even as I warmed with pleasure and want.

  Oh what the hell.

  *Morning sexy* I hit send before I could backspace and type something else.

  There was a pause in the texting, so I just waited, sipping my coffee.

  *Damn, it's nice to know it wasn't just exhaustion talking. Interested in seeing me tonight?*

  *YES*

  *lol your wish is my command*

  I laughed at that and let him be. I didn't know what would happen tonight, but I found time after lunch to put on something nicer than slob clothes, amazingly I seemed to have lost a bit of weight. Apparently pain and drugs didn't put weight on. I did my hair and put on makeup, I wanted to look nicer.

  A serious look in the mirror and most of the bruises had started to fade, and I helped them a bit with some cover up.

  "Whadda ya know, I almost look human." My reflection looked almost happy and normal, giving me the boost I need to head back to my desk with more energy than I had felt in a while.

  The afternoon passed quickly, and time to log off rolled around, but not soon enough. I was electrified with the idea of seeing him. The knock at the door pulled me out of my inner turmoil, and I heard the lock disengage.

  "Heather?"

  "Hey." I called out, a smile already creasing my face. I pushed myself up and headed towards the entry.

  Chris had closed the door and by the time I got there, a bag of stuff on the floor. He turned and looked at me moving forward with a questioning look. I just smiled and raised my arms. The feeling of his hands sliding around my waist and pulling me tight to him, then his lips descending on mine filled all my senses. I dove wanting to feel, to know the taste and shape of him.

  The kiss filled me and I pressed into him, joy competing with need as he held me.

  We were both breathless when he pulled back, looking at me with an expression I suspect I mirrored. Half desire and half completion. When you've been part of a couple for so long, you actively miss having someone else there. He wasn't a replacement for John, but he fit with the person I had become since John died.

  "The ice cream is probably melting." His voice, low and husky, sent chills up my spine.

  "Oh no. We can't have that." My voice was filled with laughter as I stepped back, wobbling a bit as I centered my weight.

  "It would be a tragedy." His voice solemn even as laughter creased his eyes. "You look like you're feeling better."

  "I am. I'm starving."

  We headed into the kitchen, and I marveled at how well he fit with me. We exchanged kisses, gropes, and hot looks as he cooked, both of us slightly disheveled from when it would get a bit too heated. In many ways I was glad the food kept it from going too far. I wanted him, but I still didn't know how to move to the next step. Or if I was ready for the next step.

  The doorbell rang and I sighed. "Figures, I have a sexy man in my kitchen and someone wants something."

  Chris flashed me a grin. "I'm not going anywhere."

  "Good."

  I hobbled to the door and pulled it open without looking, expecting a delivery man or pollster, or something. I didn't expect my mother-in-law.

  "Julia? What are you doing here?" I asked, surprised. While I didn't dislike my in-laws, they had never been close even though they only lived an hour away. When John died she hadn't made a huge effort past the first few weeks to stay in touch.

  Before she could answer Chris called out from the kitchen. "Where did you say you put the garlic? I don't see it. And I think I need another kiss."

  Julia Lewis went white and she glared at me, looking me up and down with a contemptuous sneer. "I guess my opinion of you was correct. You really didn't love him. Already have another man in your bed, and one that beats you. Is that what John did wrong? He didn't hurt you enough? I should never have supported his stupid idea of marrying you. You were never worthy of him. You're just a scheming little bitch." Her hand lashed out and hit me across the face hard enough to rock me back.

  I lost my balance when I tried to shift my weight to my cast covered leg and fell to the floor with a crash the shook the house.

  "Heather!" Chris shouted as he flew out of the kitchen and to where I lay on the floor staring up at Julia unable to even respond to the attack. My thoughts in a spiral as her words registered.

  "You're just a whore. My son isn't even cold in the ground and you're spreading your legs for the first man to even look at you. I wasted my time thinking about how you were suffering."

  Chris reached me and knelt at my side, his voice low. "Are you okay? What happened?"

  I just held my
hand to my face, already feeling it starting to heat and swell. The still healing flesh all but shattering under her blow. But it was the words that almost killed me. Each one lashed into me, cutting deep, and I could feel the bleeding of my heart as she kept talking, kept eviscerating me.

  "My son is dead, dead! And you're acting like he never existed. How could you do this to him? Do you need to get laid that badly? Why not just hire someone? Given the money in his life insurance policy you should be able to afford it."

  Tears were running down her cheeks and her face was flushed and wild. I lay there frozen, wanting to die, wanting to cease existing. All the wounds I thought had healed, the debates over living after John died were ripped right back open and I was drowning in a sea of guilt and grief. Tears welled in my eyes, and overflowed, and I couldn't breathe though I tried as panicked as guilt and grief swamped me.

  "Enough!" Chris's voice lashed out like a whip, cracking hard and sharp and creating a sudden silence as both Julia and I stared at him, our eyes wide and chests heaving from pain.

  "Ma'am, you will come in and sit down, and we will discuss this like adults."

  "I will not." Her voice shrill and sharp, slashed against my ears and I flinched causing my tears to splash on Chris.

  "You will or I will be calling the police and pressing assault charges against you." Chris sounded like nothing could move him.

  Julia huffed up, but then looked at me, laying on the floor, face red from where she slapped me, my leg in a cast and the sun from open door highlight all my healing bruises. She deflated and suddenly seemed much smaller.

  "Fine." She shuffled in, as Chris helped me stand. He escorted both of us to the living room. Putting me in the recliner and raising my leg and pointing to the other chair in the room.

  "Sit." He ordered. "I'll be right back."

  Julia sagged into the chair not looking at me, her eyes on her hands. They clutched at her purse, opening and closing, white at the knuckles as she held herself so stiffly she looked like a touch might shatter her.