Della closed her eyes against Steve’s shoulder, her sobs subsiding. Her breath evened out and she let his warmth surround her.
In the back of her mind, she knew they needed to talk about their own issues, but that seemed so trivial with Holiday’s life hanging on the line. Closing her eyes, she prayed again for Holiday. Harder than she’d ever prayed for anything in her life. Dear God, she’d already lost Chan; she couldn’t lose Holiday.
Della wasn’t sure how much time had passed—ten minutes or thirty—when Dr. Whitman walked out. She sat up. The smile on his face put her instantly at ease.
“Everything is going to be fine,” he said. “Thanks to you.” He focused on Della.
She nearly collapsed in relief, and Steve put his arm around her for support.
Right then, the front door swung open and Kylie stormed in, her eyes bright with emotion. “Where is she?” Her voice rang deep, the way it got when she was in protective mode.
“She’s in the back,” Dr. Whitman said. “But she’s going to be fine.”
“What happened?” Kylie asked.
Dr. Whitman answered, “It looks like she had a minor placental abruption.”
“Minor?” Della repeated with snark. Nothing felt minor about what had happened this last hour.
“Minor doesn’t mean it wasn’t serious, but if the abruption had been severe, the baby definitely would have died, and Holiday could have bled to death, too. As it is, she’s lost a lot of blood. If she’d lost any more…”
“I need to see her,” Kylie insisted. “I can help. I’m a healer.”
“She’s asking to see Della,” Dr. Whitman said. “I think you both can come in, but only for a few minutes. She needs her rest. And first you both need to go wash up.” He looked at Steve. “Do you have a shirt Della could borrow?”
Della hadn’t realized it until then, but she wore Holiday’s blood. Tears stung her eyes.
Steve led Della and Kylie to the bathroom in the back, then left, and returned with a navy T-shirt. He handed it to Della and walked out. Kylie shut the door.
“Are you okay?” Kylie asked.
“Yeah,” Della lied, and then slipped off her shirt, stiff with Holiday’s blood, and slid Steve’s shirt on. The feel of the cotton on her skin felt soft and cool. Della pulled it to her nose. Steve’s scent clung to the piece of clothing.
She’d missed that smell.
She’d missed Steve.
When Della walked in and saw Burnett holding his little girl in his arms, tears almost formed in her eyes again. Holiday still looked pale, but she smiled. “Thank you,” she said to Della, then nodded at Kylie.
“We were undecided on a middle name,” Burnett said. “But we decided to go with your middle name, Rose.”
Kylie chuckled and looked at Della. “Your middle name is Rose?”
Della frowned at Kylie and then looked back at Holiday. “Don’t give her that,” Della said. “I hate that name. It sounds like a porn star!”
“It does not!” Burnett said. “I like it. She’s Hannah Rose James. Named after Holiday’s sister and you. The doctor said you saved them both. Looks like I’m going to have to be nice to you from now on.”
“I won’t hold my breath,” Della said, hoping humor would ease her need for more tears.
“You actually delivered the baby?” Kylie asked.
Della nodded. “It’s not like I had a choice. Holiday threatened to send death angels after my ass if I left.”
Everyone laughed.
“I’m sorry,” Holiday said, but she was still smiling.
“Don’t be,” Della said.
“That must have been amazing,” Kylie chimed in.
Della looked back at the proud mom and dad. “Yeah. And if you two ever decide to have another one, I’m getting the hell out of town. I’m not doing that again. And the minute I’m eighteen, I’m getting my tubes tied. I was too young to see that.”
Laughter filled the small room again. And it felt good.
The baby made a cooing sound. Burnett gazed down at the little bundle in his arms. Della’s heart melted at the love in the big bad vampire’s eyes. She couldn’t help but think of her own father; if at her own birth, he had loved her so much. But not wanting to get caught up in her own problems, she pushed that thought aside and studied the baby that, unfortunately, would carry her middle name.
All cleaned up now, she looked less like a wet puppy, and more like a little person. A beautiful little person. Della studied the infant’s pattern. Her pattern marked her as half fae and half vampire, but with the vampire pattern larger. She was definitely vampire dominant. With Burnett as her father, it wasn’t surprising. Neither was the fact that Hannah Rose James already looked like a daddy’s girl.
The infant held the tip of Burnett’s pinkie in her fist—his smallest finger larger than his daughter’s whole hand. Her thick dark hair looked like Burnett’s, but her fine feminine features were surely from her mother.
“She’s beautiful.” Kylie looked at Holiday. “Can I offer you a healing touch?”
“I think I’m fine,” Holiday said.
“Just to make sure, let her do it,” Burnett said.
“She shouldn’t waste her energy if I’m fine,” Holiday insisted.
“You weren’t the one who had to see you lying there lifeless less than an hour ago,” Burnett growled at his wife before looking back at Kylie. “Do it. I’ll hold her down if I have to.”
“Do the baby, too,” Della said, looking at the fragile infant, remembering her not breathing.
All of a sudden, Della felt her eyes grow moist. Tears of relief. But damn, it had been a tough day. But a day of miracles.
Billy wasn’t going to jail, and Holiday and the baby had survived.
Take me instead. Della recalled her prayer. It even appeared God didn’t need an extra soul after all.
A few minutes later, Dr. Whitman chased all of them out except for Burnett. And since the doctor wanted to keep Holiday and the baby there for a few days, Della hoped the doctor didn’t mind company, because she would bet her canines that Burnett wouldn’t leave his wife’s side.
As they turned to leave, Burnett asked Della to ride back with Kylie and leave Holiday’s car, since it had the baby carrier in the trunk. She agreed and stepped out of Holiday’s room. Steve was waiting there. Della met his eyes and remembered how good it felt when he’d held her.
“I’ll give Della a ride back,” he said, as if he’d heard Burnett’s plans.
Kylie looked at Della as if waiting for her to argue. No argument left her mouth. She and Steve needed to talk … if only she knew what to say. Or what not to say. Hey, I kissed Chase. Or, Hey, I think I forgive you.
And just like that, she remembered what she learned from Kevin right before the whole baby thing happened. Chase had known Chan. She considered going back and telling Burnett, but that seemed selfish. He deserved to celebrate his daughter’s birth without worrying about anything.
Later, Della thought. She’d tell him later.
“You riding with me?” Kylie asked.
Realizing she’d been lost in thought, she looked back at the shape-shifter who’d held her so tenderly when she needed him. “No, uh, Steve will take me,” she answered Kylie.
Relief filled Steve’s eyes.
Surprise filled Kylie’s baby’s blues. “I’ll see you back at the cabin. With Diet Cokes ready.”
Della smiled and watched her leave.
Steve drove her back to Shadow Falls in a new Honda Civic. “Nice car,” she said ten minutes into the silent drive, wondering if it was Jessie’s. Were they such good friends now that she just loaned him her new car?
“Thanks, my parents bought it for my birthday.”
“Birthday?” she asked.
He nodded.
Della swallowed a lump of regret. “That’s why they were down to take you to dinner?”
“Yeah.”
She exhaled. “I didn’t know it was
… your birthday.”
“I know,” he said.
“I wish you would have told me.” She stared out the window, not wanting to see anything like disappointment in his eyes.
“You had already planned to go to Kylie’s and the funeral home. It’s okay.”
It didn’t feel okay. She felt terrible. He’d invited her to go out with him and his parents on his birthday and she’d totally flipped like he’d asked her to get engaged or something. She hadn’t even said happy birthday. Not that she’d known when his birthday was, but she still felt like the world’s largest disappointment.
Damn she was a terrible girlfriend. Or a terrible “almost” girlfriend.
She finally glanced at him. “Do you know when my birthday is?”
“November eighteenth,” he said.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“I peeked at your license one time.”
Great. Now she only felt worse.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
“For not knowing when your birthday was. For being a bitch.” For kissing Chase.
“You’re not a bitch. You’re scared,” he said. “Too many people have disappointed you. And then I became one of them. I’m the one who should be apologizing for letting … Jessie kiss me. I was feeling sorry for myself, I guess, and maybe I was a little upset. And she really was the one who kissed me, but I wasn’t blameless. I knew she had a thing for me, and I should have told her earlier that it wouldn’t happen, but…”
Della looked at him. “But it felt good her paying attention to you when I wasn’t. And you were disappointed in me.” Was that why she’d kissed Chase, too? Maybe.
He pulled up and parked in front of Shadow Falls and looked at her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t make it right. And I feel terrible.”
“You shouldn’t.” But didn’t she feel terrible as well?
“I made a mistake, Della. I’m big enough to admit it.”
She owed him the same, didn’t she? She studied her boots on the floorboard. “I kissed Chase,” she said. There. It was out there, now Steve could be mad at her instead of himself.
She wasn’t sure what she expected him to say, but when he said nothing, it scared her. She looked up. “See, you don’t have to feel so bad.”
He didn’t look relieved. He looked angry. Wasn’t that her plan? To take some of the blame off him? But maybe it hadn’t been such a good plan after all.
“You did it to get back at me?” he asked, his tone tight.
“No, I … I don’t think so. Maybe a little. It was complicated, but I’d be lying if I said a part of me didn’t want to get back at you. I was hurt, a lot.” She paused and tried to figure out how to explain; then she decided to just tell him the truth. “Miranda put it in my head that if I kissed someone I would be able to forgive you, because that’s what Perry did after she kissed someone a while back.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I know. I told her that, too.”
“But you still did it,” he said, his tone filled with hurt.
“No, I mean … that’s not why I did it. Okay, maybe in a small way her advice was lodged in my brain, but that wasn’t really what happened. We were on a mission, and we were supposed to have already been left. Some gang members arrived and I was trying to make them believe we were…” A prostitute and a John didn’t sound good, so she said, “That we were just part of the crowd.”
He looked out the window and stared at the trees for a minute. The trees swayed in the wind, and Della realized that like the trees, things between her and Steve could go either way. She knew which way she wanted them to go, but for the life of her she couldn’t say it was the right way.
Because if she’d been a bad “almost” girlfriend, would she do any better trying to be the real thing?
“Did it work?” he asked.
“Yeah, they didn’t know who we were.”
He looked back at her. “I mean Miranda’s plan?”
She hated admitting it, but … “As crazy as it is, it might have.”
He inhaled. “Did you like kissing him?”
Too much. She almost lied, but then … “Probably no more than you enjoyed kissing Jessie.” And she knew he’d enjoyed it because he’d looked so guilty the day she’d called him on it.
He stared out the window again. “You could have lied on that one.”
“I’m becoming a big advocate of the truth, lately.” Especially after learning how many people had lied to her. Her ex-boyfriend. Her parents—they’d never told her about her uncle and aunt. Chase—what was his connection to Chan?
And yet, as angry as those lies made her, she continued to lie, didn’t she? She wasn’t telling her parents she was vampire—for good reasons, but it was still a lie. And she hadn’t told Burnett about her uncle and aunt, and she didn’t think she would. But right now, at least with Steve, she wanted to be honest.
“I’m sorry I kissed him. There was danger involved and everything was intense, but it was … It wasn’t you. And afterwards,” Della continued, “I wished it was you.” Besides, Chase was gone now.
“That’s exactly how I feel,” he said. They sat in the front seat of the car, just staring at each other. “So what does this mean?” he asked.
“I know what I want it to mean. I want there to be an us, but I’m still scared.”
“Then we just take it slow.”
She looked at him and her heart felt half filled with promise and half filled with fear. “Wasn’t that what we were doing and it didn’t work out?”
“Then we don’t take it that slow. We let it move faster,” he said it with caution and with hope.
She bit down on her lip. “I didn’t even know your birthday. I don’t know how good I’ll be at … being an us.” She waved a hand between them. “You probably deserve better.”
“It doesn’t get better than you.” The gold and green flecks in his eyes flickered as he smiled. He leaned in and, fitting his hand behind her head, pulled her closer. “You’re beautiful, and funny. And smart.” His words came against her mouth. His lips finally brushed hers. “Did I say beautiful? I love you wearing my shirt.” Their mouths met. His palm slipped to her neck, and emotion radiated from his touch. He shifted closer to the center console, trying to get close to her.
She did the same.
Their tongues met and the kiss went from romantic to something more. Her heart raced, her skin felt supersensitive. All she could think about was getting closer.
She wanted to rip out the console between them; instead, she climbed over the dang thing. But when her ass hit the steering wheel the horn blew.
They both laughed, and dipped down in case anyone looked. Steve reached below and reclined his seat several inches, making room for her in his lap. Not really fitting, she tried to readjust. He scooted up, and she slipped legs around his waist. The position was tight, but ultra sexy. Della’s heart raced and she could feel Steve’s follow suit.
She pulled back just an inch, looking at his wet mouth. “You do know it’s the middle of the day and someone could be watching.”
“So?” He pulled her back against him. His hands slipped under her shirt. His palms fit around her waist, so warm, so right. Slowly, his touch traveled up from her waist to her edge of her breasts. She wanted his hands there. She wanted his hands everywhere.
Steve ended the kiss way before she wanted him to. His breath came hard and fast, and his eyes glittered with the same thing she felt, desire. Need. Longing.
His eyes told one story, but his facial expression told another.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Chapter Thirty-five
“You’re hot, Della,” Steve said.
“So are you,” she answered.
“No!” He pulled his hand out of her shirt and passed it over his face. “Not hot.” He shook his head. “You are sexier than hell, but what I mean is that you still
have a fever. What’s going on?”
“Oh. I … I’m sure it’s not a big deal.” She told him what she’d been telling herself for the last few weeks. “I don’t think I have a fever, I’m just not as cold.” And not wanting to think about being sick, she knew what would distract her. She tried to kiss him again.
He put his hand between her mouth and his. “It could be a big deal. And if you aren’t as cold, then it means you have a fever. Now get back in your seat.”
“Why?”
“I’m driving you back to the office so Dr. Whitman can check you out.”
“No.” Della rested her forehead against his.
“Why the hell not?” He leaned his head back and studied her face.
“Because … I’m fine. And I don’t want to worry Burnett and Holiday right now. If I’m not back to normal in a few days I’ll come in. Okay? Or better yet, I’ll have Kylie do some of her healing-hands stuff on me.”
His expression filled with disappointment. “Healers can’t cure everything.” He studied her. “What are your symptoms?”
I don’t have a rash. Wasn’t that what was important? “Steve, I’m fine. And for your information, Kylie cured her friend’s cancer. I’m sure she can take care of a little virus.” She felt better saying that, too. But if she told Steve she suspected she had the same thing as Chan, he’d freak. A freaking Steve she couldn’t handle.
“What are your symptoms?” he repeated adamantly. “Are you hurting anywhere?”
“No … well, I had a headache for a while, but it’s gone now.” She wasn’t going to lie, just downplay it a bit.
“And?” he asked.
She hadn’t said “and,” but Steve had always been able to read her. “This stays between us,” she said. “Doctor-patient privilege, right?”
He glared at her. “You’re sitting on my lap. I had my hand up your shirt.”
“It’s your shirt,” she corrected, and smiled.
“Whatever, my point is that I’m talking to you as your boyfriend.”
She smiled. “I like the sound of that.”
His stern expression softened. “Me, too.” But then he frowned again. “Now tell me your symptoms.”