Page 8 of Reckless
Guilt stabbed deep and responsibility weighed heavy. In a matter of hours, I’d become cold and stern and weighted down, so heavy with what I faced that I didn’t recognize myself. Dad and Stephen’s funeral only made me worse. Mom’s slipped under the waters of depression, she couldn’t cope. Too much rested on my shoulders, and I couldn’t see anything but the black hole of death. Nothing else, including Gage, mattered.
He came to me, just before his trip to New York to get started with his brand-new life. He tried his best to have a civilized conversation with me, but I couldn’t fathom that life had gone on. Even though I was pushing him away, it felt like he was abandoning me in my hour of need.
Then he was gone.
And it was all my fault.
After he left, my total focus had been on my mother, and the process of simply breathing in and out. I’d had no time for boys. No time to even mourn the one I’d lost. And the years had simply slipped away while I’d been busy picking up the pieces of my life.
It wasn’t like I’d intended to remain a virgin or even given my lack of a love life much thought. I’d just been busy…doing…coping…caring for others. I just didn’t have the time or energy for anything more.
Miss Violet harrumphed, pulling me back to the present. “I have an idea.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear it, so my voice was hesitant as I asked, “What’s that?”
“It’s time that you got back into the swing of life, it sounds like to me. I have a handsome nephew about your age, and—”
I held up both hands. “I’m sure he’s really nice, but I’m too busy to date right now.”
She huffed. “I’m not talking about dating. I’m just talking about a little hanky-panky so you can get your groove back.”
Millie cackled from the other side of the bed. “Doesn’t sound like our little friend here ever had a groove.”
I glared at her but couldn’t really disagree. Before my face could turn another new shade of red, I turned away, flinging the curtain back and stepping out of the space without looking.
And ran straight into a warm body.
Arms went around me, and the extra box of gloves I’d taken from Violet’s station dropped to the floor, making a loud slapping sound.
The spicy clean scent was familiar, and I stiffened as hands clasped my upper arms, steadying me on my feet. My heart fluttered in my chest, and I mentally told itno. It wasn’t possible. The hand, the scent, the chest my nose was pressed against couldn’t possibly be familiar.
They couldn’t be.
I dragged my eyes up, convinced my patient’s ramblings had finally driven me insane.
But he was real. I knew because the place low in my belly that had only ever responded to him awoke and started throbbing.
I tried to control my suddenly rapid breathing as my eyes lifted of their own accord to gray-green ones.
The instant mine met his, a tiny dart pierced my heart.
“Gage Strickland.”
