Thursdays (The Wait Book 1) Read online

  I don’t know what else she said. I just know I’d thrown my phone on the bed and yanked a sweater over my head as my body went through its routine again.

  Teeth.

  Hair.

  Lip gloss.

  Jacket at the door.

  Gone.

  I’d run through the hallway toward Mason’s room only to hear Justin, Mason’s dad, call out to me. I stopped and turned to see him walking toward me quickly then I was in his arms sobbing.

  “I-I didn’t get to see him. I haven’t seen him since last week! I was being stupid because I was upset!” I wailed as I clutched his shirt in my fists. “I was selfish! I didn’t take the time to see him!” I sobbed against his chest as he held me, vaguely hearing his words of comfort and his shushing me while he patted my back.

  Then Irene was there and I was clinging to her as if she were my last lifeline. We cried together, holding each other tightly.

  What had I done? I hadn’t answered my phone, hadn’t even looked at it because I’d been so caught up in myself.

  Oh, God.

  What had I done.

  Chapter 28—Beck

  I’d made the right decision.

  I wasn’t a romantic.

  I was a fucking realist.

  Who the hell did I think I was anyway, to walk out on my wife like I had.

  Once I’d made the choice to stay, my routine was back to normal.

  I got up, got dressed, stopped by the hospital to see Sonya, asked Dr. Schmidt if there was any news, then went to work.

  After work, I went to the hospital, went home, ate, went to bed.

  It was simple and it worked.

  I was doing what a good husband should.

  I was taking care of things.

  Being there for my wife.

  Paying bills.

  Doing laundry.

  Washing dishes.

  Being a responsible man.

  I found time to workout.

  I called Paul to check on him.

  I brought my wife flowers.

  I brushed my wife’s hair.

  I gave her a kiss when she turned her head to me.

  This was what my dad had been talking about. I needed to be there for her and not trying to find a new fucking life.

  So I stopped being selfish and focused on what was important—her getting better.

  As we waited to hear if she’d get a second chance.

  Chapter 29—Birdie

  I stayed in Mason’s room all night.

  From the minute I walked in, I cried.

  I held his hand.

  I stroked his face.

  I asked him to forgive me for everything.

  I told him I forgave him.

  I told him I’d love him forever.

  I told him the story of our honeymoon.

  Then I reminded him about his liking all the pictures of The Menace’s and how mad I’d been.

  He never responded.

  And I cried some more.

  When Maci came in, I left the room but didn’t go too far.

  In the waiting room, Irene and I held each other and cried.

  Justin held me as I cried.

  Then I went back to see Mason and talked to him some more.

  I reminded him about how mad I used to get when he always missed the laundry hamper, which I now told him was probably on purpose because he was just being ornery.

  I reminded him about the race he’d won in track and how all the girls had gone crazy when he’d yanked off his shirt at the finish line.

  I laughed when I reminded him about the time he’d gotten up during an assembly in high school, gone to the stage and interrupted the principal telling him he had an “important announcement,” and when his buddies had started blasting Soulja Boy’s “Crank That” he’d done the dance. He’d also gotten suspended for a week.

  I lastly reminded him about how when he used to smile, it lit up my world.

  I told him all these things to let him know that I had a very long memory, and when his child was born, I’d be sure that he or she knew who their daddy was.

  I’d stayed with him until the alarm went off and the nurses rushed in and made me leave.

  Chapter 30—Beck

  I was with Sonya the morning Dr. Schmidt came in and told us they’d found a match.

  He’d smiled at Sonya and told her the nurses would be coming in and she’d be prepped for surgery immediately.

  She’d cried.

  I’d choked up.

  Gina had praised God then called Roger telling him to come to the hospital.

  When the nurses came in, I overheard them talking.

  “That poor man. He was so young.”

  “Yeah. He had a brain tumor.”

  “It was nice of his wife to give his heart.”

  And I knew.

  When they’d wheeled Sonya out, I’d gone with her to the door into surgery squeezing her hand and telling her it was all going to be okay.

  She’d looked up at me with tears in her eyes and said, “I love you.”

  I’d answered, “I know. See you soon.”

  But I couldn’t find it in me to say the words back.

  I didn’t know why.

  Chapter 31—Birdie

  After Mason was gone, I was brought paperwork.

  They asked me about his organs.

  I said he wasn’t a donor. We hadn’t even talked about it.

  They said a lot of people could benefit from them since he was so young.

  I talked to Mason’s parents and we all agreed.

  I was shown several lines on which to sign.

  They asked about his heart.

  I told them he’d been a runner.

  They said that was great and there was someone right there in the hospital that was a blood and tissue match and that Mason would help her live.

  I knew just who they were talking about and I smiled sadly when I replied, “Good.”

  I added that to the list of things to tell Mason’s child:

  Your daddy was a hero.

  When I finished, Irene hugged me, thanking me, telling me she’d call.

  Justin kissed my cheek and thanked me for taking care of his son.

  Then they left.

  Maci gave me a sad smile before going with them, her hand subconsciously covering her belly.

  I went to the nurses’ desk and asked on what floor heart surgeries were performed then took the elevator down to seven.

  When I got out, I walked around the halls for a bit, looking in rooms and seeing patients with their families, some of whom were probably waiting for hearts too, which made me sad.

  I rounded a corner and stopped when I saw a tall man standing at a vending machine with his back to me. His broad shoulders that V’d down to his narrow hips, his dark hair that hung a little long on his neck and then his cobalt eyes that landed on me when he turned around were all too familiar to me.

  And my heart shattered for the millionth time.

  We stared at each other for what seemed forever. But when he took a step toward me, my breath caught and I turned to leave.

  “Birdie!” he called after me but I was running now and didn’t stop.

  I wound my way around the corridor and found a stairway door, opening it and taking the steps down as fast as my feet would take me.

  After three flights, I stopped then sat on the landing and sobbed.

  And I was reminded of when he’d come to me on the stairwell, comforted me all that time ago. Had it only been a month? More? I couldn’t remember.

  But this time he didn’t show.

  This time I was truly on my own.

  I eventually dried my tears, telling myself everything would be okay.

  That had become my new mantra—everything would be okay.

  And getting up, I made my way down the rest of the steps. As I walked through the lobby it was so very surreal, with all the busy people rushing here and there.

  I want
ed to shout at every last one of them that didn’t they realize that a man who’d once been my entire world, a young man who’d only gotten to live for a very short time, had just lost his battle and had given part of himself to help a woman live?

  But I didn’t.

  Instead, I walked out into the daylight putting my head back and letting the sun hit my face as I stood there with my eyes closed.

  When I’d had enough, felt a bit of my energy renewed, I just walked.

  It was after midnight by the time I made it home.

  As I stood in the shower, I allowed myself only a few more tears then decided I was finished crying for a while.

  Finally, exhausted, I lay down in bed and staring out at the darkness, let my heart break just one last time as I wondered how I would ever be okay again.

  I’d lost the man I loved.

  The man who’d promised me a future.

  And I’d lost the husband whom I’d once loved.

  Who’d given a future to countless others.

  Then my weary eyes eventually closed.

  It was a Thursday.

  Mondays (The Wait, Book 2) coming in 2017!

  About the Author

  USA Today Best Selling author Harper Bentley writes about hot alpha males who love hard. She’s taught high school English for 24 years, and although she’s managed to maintain her sanity regardless of her career choice, jumping into the world of publishing her own books goes to show that she might be closer to the ledge than was previously thought.

  After traveling the nation in her younger years as a military brat, having lived in Alaska, Washington State and California, she now resides in Oklahoma with her teenage daughter, two dogs and one cat, happily writing stories that she hopes her readers will enjoy.

  You can contact her at [email protected], at harperbentleywrites.com, on Facebook or on Twitter @HarperBentley

  Check out other titles by Harper Bentley:

  The Powers That Be series:

  Gable (The Powers That Be Book 1)

  Zeke (The Powers That Be Book 2)

  Loch (The Powers That Be Book 3)

  Ryker (The Powers That Be Book 4)

  CEP series:

  Being Chased (CEP #1)

  Unbreakable Hearts (CEP #2)

  Under the Gun (CEP #3)

  The High Rise series

  The Fighter

  Serenity Point series:

  Bigger Than the Sky (Serenity Point Book 1)

  Always and Forever (Serenity Point Book 2)

  True Love series:

  Discovering Us (True Love #1)

  Finding Us (True Love #2)

  Finally Us (True Love Book 3)

  True Love: The Trilogy: The Complete Boxed Set

  http://harperbentleywrites.com/

  BLURRED

  EDGES

  The Edge Series

  -Book Two-

  By

  Kane Caldwell

  PROLOGUE

  Running down the pale-blue painted hallway of the hospital, my chest hurting from the ferocious beating of my pounding heart, I felt the sweat beading across my forehead as every horrendous scenario ran through my fucking head.

  I caught the nurse coming from Ashley’s room, grabbing her by the arm, and asked if the baby was okay.

  She examined me with a confused look as she softly told me, “You must have the wrong room, sir. The woman in there,” she nodded to the open door, “isn’t pregnant.”

  A chill cascaded down my body as I slowly stepped over the threshold. Ashley lay in the bed, tears streaming down her face and I knew she’d seen me talking with the nurse. “I’m sorry, Lane. I can explain,” was all she got out before I turned on my heel, walked out of the room, and never looked back.

  Chapter one

  SIX MONTHS LATER

  MADISON

  Shit!

  Fuck!

  “Fucking shit, shit, shit!” I rambled loudly in the car.

  Taking a brief second, I assessed myself like I’d been in a ten-car pileup and not just a tiny fender bender. Everything seemed to be in all the right places except for the extra ten pounds I had attached to my stomach, which gave me a slight belly, hips and ass; those could definitely be placed elsewhere, like, not on my body.

  Fucking donuts!

  Who invented donuts anyway? They need to be brought out to a firing…

  Shit! Focus, Madison!

  Since no one came rushing over to my SUV, I assumed there were no patrons littering the bar parking lot or, if there were, they were tucked away in the corner laughing at me. I shut the car off and got out to view the damage to the massive truck I’d just backed into. With my luck, it belonged to some huge guy that had a hard-on for it and I was about to get an earful. That’s when I thought about leaving one of those nice notes—Sorry I hit your car and here’s my information—and maybe even adding a smiley face to it for extra points.

  “You’re gonna go in there and find the owner and deal with this,” I muttered to myself, trying to suppress the anxiety that was currently forming inside.

  It wasn’t working.

  After studying the minor damage, I forced myself to start toward the bar’s entrance. My heart began to pound and with every step closer, my breaths became labored as a numbing sensation ran through my body. Chancing a look back at my bumper butted up against the bumper of the massive truck, I freaked out because, as I took a second to take in the midnight blue truck…it looked brand fucking new! My anxiety began to escalate and as I tried getting a grip on it, I noticed the large print covering the back window: LC Construction. Making a mental note to look for a guy that appeared to be a construction worker, I opened the wooden door to find a mildly crowded seedy bar.

  I rolled my shoulders and took a glance around at the people littering the small place. A few guys were playing pool and had their lecherous eyes focused my way, sizing me up. I said a small prayer that none of them were the owner of the truck. Swiftly averting my eyes from their spot so as to not give them the impression I was interested, I then saw the back of a dark gray T-shirt with the words LC Construction printed on it in white.

  Bingo!

  It took my feet a few seconds to comprehend that my brain was telling them to move before I started that way. The pounding of my heart had now turned into a thundering force in my chest. This guy was tall, as in very tall, compared to my five-seven stature, and from the sight of his broad shoulders and solid back that narrowed to a slim waist, he was built. He had a hip to the bar and seemed to be focused on someone in front of him, which from his tall and firm frame, I couldn’t see the person who held his attention. As I approached the bar, I wasn’t sure if my strenuous breaths had to do with just how good this guy looked from behind or if they were from my nerves. Sliding my ass on the second stool down from his location, I took a deep breath.

  “Excuse me?”

  He didn’t turn but my calling caught the bartender’s attention, who looked like she was too young to be in a bar, let alone behind it.

  “What can I get ya?” she asked.

  “Oh,” I fumbled a bit, “nothing, thank you.”

  She shrugged her shoulders and began to walk away but I caught her eyeing the guy whose attention I was trying to gain and she rolled hers as she jerked her head in my direction. And just when my nerves were starting to calm a bit, the guy spoke.

  “Don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll have your turn,” he said toward the barmaid.

  For the love of God, his voice was deep, so deep and smooth, that just the sound of it had my thighs clenching and my eyes closing for a brief second to enjoy the rush it caused to flow through my body. But that quickly went away when the words he’d spoken finally sank in, words I found very odd and quite frankly degrading to all women, especially when the bartender smiled and winked at him. That’s when I heard a screechy giggle come from the other side of him. The woman he was with laughed…fucking laughed? Who was this guy…a fucking God of some sort?
I knew I’d been out of the game for a very long time but I’d be damned if I let any man talk to me that way and then giggle at him when he did.

  What was this world coming to?

  I cleared my throat as anger began to set in on what I just witnessed, but most of that fury had to do with the way my middle-aged, horny body had responded to his voice.

  “Excuse. Me,” I said, accentuating both words loudly.

  He finally turned around.

  And that’s when I was kicking my own ass from head to toe for not just leaving a note because this guy was gorgeous. So stunning that I forgot what I had to say and instead took in his beauty. I was eye level with the dark gray T-shirt stretching across his rock-hard muscular chest; then I noticed red and black scrolling ink that started at his right elbow and disappeared under his tight sleeve.

  I wanted to follow it.

  My eyes went across his torso to his left hand which looked rough and was holding a bottle of beer. I wanted to know what his hands felt like on my body. The corded muscles in his forearms, the right sported a faint heart tattoo, had me swallowing hard but I did my best to cover it up as I shifted in my seat. My eyes continued up and were greeted with beautiful, strong male features: a neatly trimmed goatee that surrounded perfect lips, hazel eyes that I knew I could get lost in for hours and a dark blond mess of spikey hair that definitely worked on him.

  God. He had a roughness about him that had all my lady parts standing at attention.

  When my eyes found his again, his were gazing at me with such intensity that I swallowed slowly while wiggling in my seat because it suddenly felt as though I was sitting on a blazing inferno of bricks. And when I saw his mouth begin to move, I dropped my eyes and stared as his tongue came out to lick his bottom lip before he pulled it back between perfect, white teeth. My nipples suddenly became so erect, as I imagined they were his bottom lip, that they hurt.