Bad Habits Part 28

Then it stopped Kim blinked awake, slipping back down the door, her legs dropping from around his waist. Stunned, she couldn't catch her breath to speak.

"No." he panted, hard.

"No?" she moaned.

How could he possibly say no after that kiss? How? All this time, her first kiss in how long, and he says no? What did it mean? No? No to what? No to freedom? No to her?

"Not like this. I didn't come here for this." He stepped back from her licking his lips. He felt it too. He had to. It was a succulent sweetness that was so sinfully divine. He turned from her, thinking she'd know. It was too late. She knew all too well, and she wasn't afraid of it.

"I'm not Elaine," Kim said.

He cut her a look from over his shoulder.

"It's what you're thinking isn't it? That this thing with us is you making mistakes again. Well you're not. You've been a friend to me, Mathew, even before I needed you. I don't care about your past. We all have one. I just want to feel something again. Don't you?"

He didn't answer, not directly. Kim closed her eyes. Hugging herself, she turned for the door. Maybe it was a mistake. She was so tired. What the h.e.l.l did she know?

"Kim?"

"Go. I need to get some sleep."

He came behind her. His left arm crossed over her, drawing her back. "Of course you're not Elaine. You're not selfish or self-destructive. You would never willingly do anything to hurt your children. That's why I'm so careful with you, because I see how special you are."

"Stop it, Mathew," Kim pleaded.

"Why? You haven't heard it enough, have you? He died and so did a part of you."

"It's more than that," Kim said.

"Not really. Sometimes it just is." His strong jaw knocked her face over so he could kiss her cheek, then the slender length of her neck. "You're kind. You're caring. You're a good mother. A good nurse. A good woman."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"You don't understand."

"Then help me understand. What is it that you can't let go of?"

She turned in the circle of his arms to face him. "My husband's dead. One day he was here making plans to be a father, and the next day he was gone, Mathew. No warning. It was a regular day, a Thursday. I had no warning. He just was gone. I gave up hope. That's the truth. I couldn't even hold my babies after they were born. I was too sick with pain."

"From losing him?"

"From a lot of things, I just wanted it to stop. I was dying inside and I wanted it to stop. And my boys look so much like him. It's so hard."

"I understand."

"No. You don't. If any of you did, you'd turn away from me," Kim said.

"You're human."

"No d.a.m.n it. I'm a failure. The worst kind."

His arms closed around her and she swallowed down the rest. She should tell him. She wanted to confess, but fear held her back. There was no going back if she told him. "Like I said, you're human. None of us are perfect, but what you've been through, how you manage it all. That's what makes you remarkable."

"You're seeing what you want to see."

He pushed her chin up. "I see you, Kim. And right now you need a friend, not romance. That's why I stopped kissing you. I've learned from my mistakes." He took her hand and led her through the darkness to the bedroom. Her mind was so cloudy with indecision she couldn't decide. Would he still think she was worthy of all his praise if she truly let him in?

"Mathew," she said softly. "I don't want to be alone."

He drew back the sheet; she shed her robe, her nightshirt stopping barely at her hips. She didn't care if he saw. She didn't care about anything. She vaguely recalled climbing in to bed and vaguely recalled the sheet drawing up over her shoulder. By the time her head hit the pillow, she was sleep but not alone.

The chair in her bedroom wasn't the most uncomfortable place to spend the night. The bed was an even greater temptation with tight cramping in his neck and his back. But he didn't trust himself to join her. She was too vulnerable, and he was a man after all. That kiss and the burning feel of it sizzled over his lips.

She wasn't ready for what he wanted and what he wanted was her. In honesty, it was a long crush he'd carried for months. But it had only been weeks since she knew he existed. He couldn't f.u.c.k this up. Mathew again replayed their conversation. She made little sense last night. Between her tears, her confession of being a bad person, of having secrets, it just didn't add up. She was the victim. She lost everything. How could any of that be her fault?

"Mama?" A little voice called as a shadow shot through the door to the bed. Mathew sat up. He saw hands clawing at the sheet, trying to lift. Rising he walked around and found one of the twins struggling to get on top. Kim stirred, but he scooped him up before she woke.

The toddler jumped, shocked at being held in his arms and then stared at him in the darkness. "It's okay."

Carrying who he thought to be Danny out, he went back through the hall to his room.

"Cup," Danny said, pointing in the opposite direction. Mathew understood the late night visit. He went back out into the kitchen. He balanced Danny in his arms and retrieved a child's cup and filled it with milk. The hand off had the little one dropping his head to his shoulder in grat.i.tude.

The rest was easy. He placed him in bed and fixed the covers over them both. When he was certain that they were sleep, he turned to leave, but stopped to see the picture of Dennis on the dresser. He walked over to it and studied it. Kim kept him alive for her children. He could admire that.

Checking his watch, he walked back to her room, now comfortable in her house. But the cramp in his neck was now forming a headache. He took the liberty to go into her bathroom. Closing the door behind him he opened the medicine cabinet to look for Tylenol. His eyes scanned the prescriptions. He found a bottle of Advil.

"Finally." he sighed. When he closed the mirror to the cabinet, by chance he looked over to a makeup case. There was a prescription pill bottle in it. Odd that it would be considering she kept them all orderly in the medicine cabinet. He picked it up and read the label: Oxycodone/APAP Take 1 daily with food Dr. Anshu Patel Mathew read the label twice to be sure. He was seeing a very addictive narcotic prescribed to Kimberly. He frowned. "Why the h.e.l.l would you need this?"

"What are you doing?"

Four words stopped his heart. Kim pushed the door open wider. She stepped into the light, her eyes trained on him. She was awake. Her hair full of auburn tangles and the robe gone left to reveal her skimpy t-shirt, shapely hips and a bit of lace from her panties just at the hem. The tempting V between her thighs greeted him. His brown temptress rubbed her eyes fully wakening. She wore no bra. The imprint of her large nipples pressing against her shirt was hard to miss. Her sudden appearance left him immobile. Within those paralyzing seconds, he stole the moment to absorb every detail. He left her in bed, sleep and so worn out was that she hadn't heard her son when he came calling. Now she wasn't? She was standing before him glaring with those brown almond shaped eyes that were red and gla.s.sy, and full two-toned lips pressed into a thin angry line. Who knew she'd be equally beautiful when she was angry?

Now wasn't the time to tell her. Kim's brows knitted together. She fixated on the pill bottle in his hand. d.a.m.n it, he was caught. How could he explain going through the woman's cosmetic bag? He'd better try. Best defense was always a good offense.

"Why are you taking Oxy?" his voice croaked. He cleared his throat. "Oxycodone?"

"That's none of your business." She charged him, swiping at the pills unabashedly, her shirt tugged upward from the lift of her arms and b.r.e.a.s.t.s exposing her curves and the child bearing hips that too were hard to ignore. Mathew raised his hand higher. Eyes lowered to hers with concern. She swatted at the bottle and stepped back glaring.

"Give it to me!"

"Answer the question. This is a strong dose. Why are you on these?"

She shook her head no with an angry pout.

"Kim?"

She then crossed her arms, her pretty features hardening along with her stance. No explanation was offered, though he semi-agreed that she didn't owe him one.

"Fine, don't answer me. I'll ask Patel."

"No you won't!" she huffed and turned and marched out.

"Hey, come back here, darlin'. Don't blow me off. I need you to talk to me. What's going on with you?"

He found her facing the bed. If he could see her face, look into her eyes, he could make sense of it. When he approached, she spun on him, with a glare that stopped him in his tracks. "What right do you have to come into my house and go through my things? I trusted you and you betrayed me!" She clenched her fists, seething.

"Why won't you answer me?"

"I have back problems. Okay? I barely take those d.a.m.n pills." She swung for them again, but he moved them out of her reach. "It's just sometimes with the long shifts and being on my feet it gets to be too much."

"Then take a Tylenol. You shouldn't need this. It's too addictive. How long have you been on them?"

"Stop it, Matt. Stop it, or go. I don't like you questioning me like I'm some criminal," Kim shouted.

"That's not what I'm doing."

"I told you they're for my back! Why don't you believe me?"

"Because the kind of chronic pain you would have to be in for this dose would have you walking with a cane." He checked the label again. "Dr. Anshu Patel? The man's an incompetent sleaze. You know that."

"I do."

"Then why?"

"I told you. I told you."

He handed the pills to her. She avoided his eyes when she accepted them. "How bad are these back problems?"

"They come and they go," she answered softly.

"You've seen someone else about this pain? Other than Patel?"

She looked up at him as if the idea never crossed her mind. She's a nurse. There's all kinds of therapies for back problems and cures. She should know that.

"No, I just thought it was part of it."

"Part of what?"

"My complications. I had a bad delivery with my boys. Patel was my OBGYN. He delivered my sons. That's how-how it all started." She stepped around him, their arms brushing as she pa.s.sed. His eyes followed as she sought out the top drawer and filed them away under her bras and panties. "You're right. Maybe I should see someone else."

"The twins are what, two?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Two years? You've been on this for two f.u.c.king years?"

"No. No, my pain it changed after awhile. It, um, got worse so, nothing worked, so it got so bad I could barely stand. You know back pains are chronic, and it gets worse."

"So Patel starts you off on Oxy?"

"No, yes. He tried Vicodin, but it made me sleepy and... stop drilling me." She pressed her palms into her eyes. "I've been in pain. How come you don't believe me?"

"Hey, it's okay. I'm just concerned." He gently took her face in his hands causing hers to drop away. She uttered something indecipherable at his touch, probably a protest. But he refused to let her escape. "Let's get you another doctor. Some therapy might help, not those pills."

She lifted to him, captured his lips once more for a kiss. At first he resisted, pushing back at her shoulders, but just a sample left his lips smoldering for more. He captured her face and was drawn in by her loving. It had been so long since he kissed a woman like this. Her body was soft and curvy. He liked curves, always did. His hands explored every tender dip and rise of her sweetness. His hands dropped to her waist, holding them, then he drew her up against him firmly. With her arms around his neck she submitted all of her feminine warmth to him. What man wouldn't lose his way? The kiss was nice. It ended shortly after it began, but not his desire for more. Her head went back. She gave him a shy smile. He had to brush his lips over that smile once more.

"You promised me and my boys a boat ride. Is that still going to happen? I'm wondering," she said.

"Wednesday, the boat. Yes, little darling.' It will definitely happen."

"Going to happen, huh?" she whispered, her eyes lowering seductively, her face close. How was he supposed to respond to that? It was the gentle grazing of her fingertips tracing his jaw that robbed him of speech. She had no idea how much he wanted her, all of her. But she spoke in such a seductive sweet tone he suspected she might. "What I need is some place to be, where I can relax, and then you and I can sit down and we can talk about things, like my back."

He nodded, completely under her spell. She pushed her face into the center of his chest. Her body shivers became his own. Was she cold? He could spend the rest of the night keeping her warm if she liked. They stood in silence, absorbing each other's heartbeats. Oh how he was in trouble. There was no way he'd be able to let her go.

"Trust me," he whispered against her ear, as his hand slipped into the thickness of her hair.

"I'm trying," she whispered back.

He wondered about her suffering. These back problems, her exhausting schedule, mixed with the stress of her husband's death could make Oxy a crutch, or worse. She just started taking them so there was time to get her on a better path. That b.a.s.t.a.r.d, Patel, should have never prescribed them. He'd get to the bottom of it.

"Kim?"

"I need you, just like this," she sighed, "That's what I need. Not a doctor. Just a friend, remember? My friend."

"I'm here, but-"

"No buts." She lifted her head once again. "You're off duty, Dr. Donnelly."

"You got away with stating the obvious." He chuckled deep in his throat. "Strange to have you in my arms, twice tonight. I have to ask. You sure you're okay with this friendship?" He cleared her eyes from her low hanging bang, brushing the strands away.

"A friendly hug, a little kiss here and there. Yeah, I'm okay with that," she shrugged. He believed her. Which was another mystery about her. The pictures of Dennis and her inability to let go of him should have her showing him to the door. Did she need him that bad or just anybody?

"It's kind of fast though, considering."

She lowered her arms. "Dennis."

Mathew looked over to the picture once more. She had her husband's picture guarding both sides of the bed; he even stood watch from the dresser. He was in pictures nailed along the walls, family photos on every bookshelf. You couldn't turn a corner and not see him. How did that help her with her grieving?

"I'm trying not to think about Dennis," she admitted, walking out of his arms over to the bed. She sat down and looked over to the photograph. "But I need him here to remind me."

"Remind you of what, your loss?"

She nodded. "I loved him so much. He wasn't perfect, but he was a good man, husband, and he would have been a good father. He didn't deserve to die that way. He lost the family he wanted so badly before it even started." She finally looked away, to the floor, then the wall, then to him. "I don't think I'll ever not be his wife or want him. He was more than my husband. He was my other half. I'm incomplete without him, Mathew."

Mathew feared that to be the case. It was one of the reasons he didn't open that window of opportunity she kept cracking for him. Was he disappointed? Yes. If she felt that way then what was the kiss? A fluke? Why the offer for him to stay? She smiled as if she knew the question. "I also feel drawn to you, Matt. It's not so painful anymore, when you're here. I just feel like I can breathe. Does that make sense?"