"That's different." I look at her. "They already went through losing a son, Finn. They won't take this well."

"I think that's exactly why you need to call."

I nod. "I'll do it later. I just need a little more time with him."

"All right."

We sink back into silence again until Finley breaks it.

"Does Jake know?"

I shake my head. "Just you."

She's quiet. "Have you, um, talked to him lately?"

"No, but he called Maverick a couple of weeks ago."

She pa.s.ses the apple again. "How is he?"

"Good. Studying a lot." I leave out that he's seeing someone, a lawyer from the office he's working at.

"Nice."

A soft knock at the door makes me look up. "Blood pressure," Laney says, wheeling in the machine.

I hate the blood draws and routine checks. It's the awkward silence mixed with the fact they're prodding my unconscious husband and he gets no say.

Laney wraps the cuff around his upper arm and turns on the machine. I wonder if Maverick can feel the squeeze, if it annoys him.

The nurse watches the screen. Three beeps sound, and she frowns.

"Ninety over fifty-three. It's dropping. I'll notify the doctor and see what she wants to do." She removes the cuff.

Dropping blood pressure and elevated red blood cells.

Chills race up my arms.

Finley rubs my back. "He'll be okay. The doctor will know what to do," she says, and I nod. I'm back to that now, nodding.

I study Maverick. It's strange how all of the changes are happening inside his body, but on the outside, he looks serene. Like he's sleeping and he'll wake up any minute and want coffee. I should have coffee here waiting for him. And an omelet. He likes omelets.

I squeeze his hand, a motion I find myself doing often. I hope it comforts him, but I do it to comfort me too. I imagine it's his hand squeezing mine, letting me know everything will be okay. Finley just told me, I know, but coming from Maverick, it's different. He makes everything be okay.

Patience is a game here, winner takes all. Fear and I battle it out again, but he's more patient than me. He has all the time, and as time becomes thinner, Fear becomes stronger.

I shake the crimson away. Gray filters back in, and I hug my arms around myself to keep the cold from dropping over me.

I press a kiss to Maverick's forehead. "Don't let go. I'm here, Mav. Don't let go of me."

Chapter 30.

Oahu, Hawaii One year ago I wake up before the sun rises. It's the first day of our honeymoon. My husband doesn't stir as I get out of bed. I throw on a robe and step out onto the balcony. Arranging my drawing materials on the table, excitement bubbles in my belly at the thought of drawing my first sunrise as a married woman. I'm so happy, and I have no doubt that happiness will wash out onto the page in glorious color.

I slide a bench up to the table and look out over the horizon. It's chillier out there than I thought it would be, and I wish I'd slipped on a pair of socks. I don't want to go back in and disturb Maverick, though, so I stretch out the bottom of the robe to cover the tops of my feet.

Ocean breeze stirs up around me, carrying with it the scent of salt and the promise of sun. I plan to enjoy every minute out here before we head back home in a few days.

I still have a year of art school left, and Maverick is already talking about me applying for a graduate program. I'm not ready to think that far ahead yet. His time at the office has steadily increased since he pa.s.sed the bar back in February. He's a full-fledged, first-year lawyer now. Translation: long hours and c.r.a.p cases.

This will probably be our last getaway for a while.

I sharpen a couple of my dull pencils, ready for when the sun peeks up and the splash of color stretches out along the sky.

Slivers of light spread through the sky, and I begin. The sky has to be first. I work in layers, the palm trees closest to me will be the last thing I draw. I'm so engrossed in the magnificence of the morning that I don't hear the balcony doors open behind me.

It's not until he kisses my cheek that I realize he's there. I acknowledge him with a smile, knowing he'll stay out here with me. He loves to watch me draw.

Maverick sits on the bench behind me, his legs straddling mine. He nuzzles my neck, leaving a trail of kisses around the nape.

"Good morning, my wife," he murmurs.

"Good morning, my husband."

"How'd you sleep?"

He's flirting with me by asking that, because last night was A. Freaking. Mazing. My body is still recovering.

"As well as you," I say, leaning into him.

"I'm surprised you're up so early."

I nod out toward the scene I'm working on. "I didn't want to miss that."

He rests his chin on my shoulder to see my progress. The sky and the water are finished. I'm filling in the sandy beach now, including a couple walking hand-in-hand along the sh.o.r.e. They aren't actually there, but they're in my head.

"You're almost finished," he says, knowing how I work.

"Yep. I like this one."

"I do too." He moves in close and lowers his voice. "I'll like it even better once it's done and I have you naked."

My body responds to his words, my heart speeding up. "Last night wasn't enough?"

"Not even close. With you, five times a day wouldn't be enough."

"I think I could deal with that."

Maverick presses his lips against my shoulder and moves my hair to the other side. Then he traces the tip of his tongue up the side of my neck.

"I'm not done with this yet," I say, already falling into him. I can finish the sand and trees later.

He slips a hand into the V-neck of the robe and fills it with a breast. "I'm not stopping you."

He rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and I've lost all concentration. I close my eyes. His touch flows all the way down to my core, waking new desire.

"Not technically," I answer.

He widens my thighs and brushes over my hair. I blow out an exhale through puckered lips, losing myself to the sensation. He opens me, and I moan.

"You're so wet already," he murmurs.

"See what you do to me?"

He circles a finger around my entrance before two fingers enter me, and a louder moan escapes my throat. He ma.s.sages me until I'm squirming. Morning breeze blows over my face, but it can't cool the warmth he's building in me.

He still has my breast. His breath wafts over my neck, and I see nothing but scarlet. Fiery, pa.s.sionate, scarlet.

"Come for me," he says, pumping faster.

I want to. Oh, G.o.d, I want to.

A wave of pleasure hits me, and I come into his hand. It's hard and fast and my heart is pounding.

But Maverick doesn't stop. He's repeating last night.

He builds me again, breathing hard and rubbing his erection against me. Even though I have his fingers inside me, they're not what I'm craving. A wife needs more than that.

"Take me to bed," I pant.

"Does that mean you're ready for me?" he teases. Oh, he knows.

"Yes."

He pulls out, and I already miss him. He unties my robe before I stand up and slides it off my shoulders as I cross the threshold into our room. We fall onto the bed, our legs tangled.

Maverick rolls onto this back, bringing me on top of him. He pulls me low so that I'm right over him. And then I sink all the way down.

"Oh, f.u.c.k me, Mrs. Tavare."

"Aren't I?"

"Yes. Keep f.u.c.king me."

I do until we're both panting from our release.

Maverick circles his arms around me, holding me to him. My head rests on his shoulder. He kisses my forehead.

"You'll always be mine, Alieya."

I snuggle in closer. "And you'll always be mine."

Chapter 31.

Present Day 9:02 a.m.

I watch the monitors like a hawk. The nursing staff watches too, Laney staying in Mav's room now. The doctor has increased his dose of medication to stabilize his blood pressure. So far it hasn't improved, but it hasn't dropped more either. We're waiting for his latest lab work to come back to determine the next step.

I hold Maverick's hand against my cheek, kissing it every few seconds. I whisper to him to hold on. To fight. To come back to me.

Maverick's phone rings. He never changed the factory settings for his ringtone, and the boring ring draws my attention to it. I volunteered to change the ring for him once. I even played a section of Uptown Funk for him to consider.

"No," he said, s.n.a.t.c.hing his phone back. "Everyone has that song."

"They do not," I insisted.

"It's the top-rated ringtone. That means everyone has it."

"A lot of people isn't everyone. Yours is so unoriginal."

"Having Uptown Funk is unoriginal; not having it is original. Name one other person who has my ring."

I think for a second. "My grandma. On her landline."

"Landlines don't count."

I have no other guesses.

"Exactly. Five people in the office have it. When one phone rings, all five people check to see if it's theirs. If I keep it as is, I always know it's my phone."

I gave up. Now his nonconformist ring calls from the table beside me. I silence the phone and read the name lighting up the screen. It's the firm. Probably wondering why he didn't come in this morning.

"Are you going to answer it?" Finley asks.

My first impulse is to say no. I haven't even called his parents yet, but I doubt anyone from the firm will come over. If they did, they wouldn't be allowed in anyway. I'm about to answer when the screen notifies me that I've missed a call.

I put the phone back onto the table and take Maverick's hand again. It's a little cooler now than a few seconds ago, and my eyes immediately go to his face. The corner of his lip twitches. The natural pink hue of his mouth has faded, and I know.