All of Me Read online

  And speaking of things he couldn’t figure out, why didn’t he shake with Stella? Or sweat? And why, after he had sex with her, he didn’t feel ashamed or alone? Why did being with her made him feel calm? Sated? Good? Maybe even happy?

  Nope. He wasn’t going there. They’d had sex and that was it. Sure, it had been mind-blowing and body-numbing and Nathan wasn’t sure how he’d go on if she left him, but it was all still no big deal, right?

  Fucking. Hell.

  ***

  Stella stretched and yawned. She could tell without opening her eyes she’d been in the same position for a while because her muscles were stiff and her neck was tight. She cracked her eyelids and found herself staring at Nathan’s left bicep. Her head was resting on his left arm…Nathan was behind her, spooning her; his right arm resting on her hip.

  Stella smiled. She pressed her lips to his bicep and inhaled his scent.

  God, he’d been amazing. It had been such a turn on to watch him go from restrained to uninhibited to totally in control. When he’d taken her from behind like that…

  Stella squirmed thinking about it.

  “You okay?”

  Nathan’s deep, growly voice coming from right above her head made Stella jump.

  She laughed. “You scared me. I didn’t know you were awake.” Stella turned in his arms until they were face to face.

  Nathan had his poker face on. She couldn’t even venture a guess as to his mood or what was going on in his head. The guy was like a Sphinx.

  Stella planted a quick kiss on his lips and settled back into his arms. She studied his stoic expression. “You are a hard guy to read. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

  “Yes.”

  “I bet.” Stella searched his eyes, his face, for something. Anything. But he was blank. A statue would have revealed more.

  “Nathan?”

  “Yes?”

  “I want to hear about your tattoos. And your scars.”

  Every muscle in his body tensed up. His expression never changed, but agitation was rolling off him in waves.

  “We can talk about that later. Not now.” Nathan rolled backwards, away from her, and sat up. Which was a huge mistake because it gave Stella a really in-your-face-view of the exact subject matter she was trying to discuss.

  His back was a hot mess. It looked like what Stella would imagine a P.O.W. held in a…

  Stella’s stomach dropped.

  “Nathan…did you…were you…” Stella sat up and pulled a loose bedsheet over her midsection. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. When he turned to look at her expectantly, Stella’s voice came out a strangled whisper. “Were you tortured over in the Middle East? When you were in the Army? Is that what those scars are from?”

  Of all the reactions she’d expected, a burst of hard laughter was not one of them.

  “No. Nothing like that.” He yanked on his boxers and grabbed his tee shirt. After he pulled it on, Nathan faced her, hands on his hips. “What can I get you? A coffee? Some food from somewhere?”

  “Uh, no. You can sit down and talk to me about what the hell happened to your body.”

  “Drop it, Stella,” he shot back. Snapped, really. In a voice that told Stella he fully expected to bully her into backing down.

  “I will not drop it.” When he walked away, Stella saw red. “Nathan, we are not done.”

  But he continued on his merry way; grabbing a tee shirt and shorts out of his closet (who the hell hangs up mesh workout shorts?) and leaving the bedroom. She scooted off the bed, yanking the whole gray sheet with her. Stella wrapped it around her as best as she could and stomped after Nathan. “Nathan, stop!”

  He started yanking the clothes on.

  “Will you talk to me? Please? I-“

  Nathan spun around. “It’s none of your fucking business! Jesus Christ!” With a huff, he shoved his feet into some work boots. “Just because we’ve screwed a few times doesn’t mean everything about me is instantly your business!” Nathan looked around feverishly. “Goddamn it! Where are my keys!”

  Stella, initially angry at his avoidance then stunned at his uncharacteristic yelling, started bawling. As was her typical reaction to getting yelled at. The anger would come later, but right now, it was all tears, all the time.

  A stricken expression replaced his angry one. “Oh, my God, Stella…” He slowly approached her. “I am so sorry…”

  Stella sank onto his couch and wiped at her face with a corner of the sheet.

  Nathan sank to his knees in front of her; bracing his forearms on either side of Stella’s legs on the couch. He looked at her with those sad whiskey eyes…so forlorn, so torn up…

  As hurt as Stella was, it was hard to stay angry with someone who looked like that. She sniffled and smiled. “I guess I’m kind of playing dirty, huh?”

  Some of the heaviness left his face. And then he shocked the hell out of her.

  Nathan laid his head in her lap; his arms tightening against her outer thighs.

  More tears gathered in Stella’s eyes, blurring her vision as she stroked Nathan’s head.

  They sat like that for a long while: Nathan motionless in her lap while Stella ran her hands over his head, his shoulders, and his back.

  “I’m not ready…” Nathan’s voice was strangled and muffled against Stella’s thigh. “I want to, but I can’t. Not yet.”

  “It’s okay. I understand.” Stella traced her fingertips over the edge of his ear and over the back of his neck. She smiled when goosebumps spread across Nathan’s skin. “I just want to make you feel as accepted and beautiful as you make me feel. That’s all.”

  Nathan lifted his head and their eyes met. “You are beautiful, Stella. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You know that, right?”

  Stella laughed through more tears. “You’ve gotta stop with that sweet talk, Nathan. You’re killing me.”

  “Please don’t cry. I can’t stand it.” He stood and, in one smooth movement, pulled Stella up into his arms. His lips whispered into her hair. “Can you be patient with me? I know it’s a lot…and if you can’t, I’ll understand…I’m just so fucked up, Stella…”

  “We’re all fucked up, mio caro. Some of us are better at hiding it than others.”

  “Yeah, but some of us are really fucked up,” he said so vehemently Stella laughed again.

  At his quirked brow, Stella tightened her arms around his waist. “Anyone who devotes his life to saving people’s lives and defending people who can’t defend themselves can’t be too fucked up. And anyone who can kiss like you do and can do–“ She tilted her head to the bedroom. “…what you do in there is all right in my book.”

  When he just kept staring at her with those godforsaken eyes, Stella squeezed him again. “I’m going to make you something to eat. A good fight always makes me hungry.” She dropped her arms, but Nathan didn’t drop his. He kept his wrapped around her waist.

  Damn those eyes. They were latched onto hers…searching…or maybe trying to tell her something…either way, they were piercing her soul.

  “Nathan…”

  He dropped his arms, and after a quick clearing of his throat, released her. “I don’t keep much food in the house. Let me go grab you something.”

  Stella headed for Nathan’s kitchen. “I’m sure you have something in here I can work with.”

  She opened the fridge door and examined the contents, which consisted of cranberry juice, orange juice, bottled water, and about twenty little bottles of insulin.

  Nathan was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, his hands braced up on the top of the doorframe. She put aside the sexiness of that pose and the effect it was having on her for the moment.

  “Are you diabetic?”

  “Yeah. Type 1.”

  “When were you diagnosed?”

  “15.”

  “Huh.” Stella started opening and closing cupboards. “There is nothing in any of these, Nathan.” She shot him a disapprovin
g look as she shut the last cupboard. “There’s no food in your fridge or your cupboards…what do you eat?”

  “Stuff while I’m out.”

  “Uh-huh. You know diabetics need to eat many small meals throughout the day to maintain their blood sugar, right?” At Nathan’s nod, she lifted a brow. “And do you?” When Nathan nodded again, Stella scoffed. She gestured to his kitchen as a whole. “This is very upsetting, Nathan. If you didn’t have diabetes, it would be bad enough, but…”

  Stella made her way back to Nathan’s bedroom and dropped the bed sheet. She was pulling her clothes back on when Nathan finally reappeared.

  He eyed her. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting dressed.” Stella pulled on her bra. “Have you seen my fake boob?”

  Nathan pointed to under the bed.

  “Ah-ha.” Stella slipped it into her bra and pulled her shirt over her head.

  “You leaving?”

  “We’re leaving. I don’t have my car, remember?” Stella brushed past him and made a bee line for her shoes.

  “Are you leaving because you’re angry about my lack of food?”

  She laughed. “You are so silly. I’m not leaving…we’re leaving. To go the market. I’ve got to get some food in this house and into you or I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.”

  The relief on his face was enough to break Stella’s heart into a million pieces. She thought about how many times he must have been left in his life and she wanted to throw herself on the ground sobbing.

  But that wasn’t going to get her man fed and, as an Italian-American woman, that was priority number one. Almost always.

  She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go have some fun.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “What’d you do last night?” Danny asked as they drove away from a traffic accident they’d cleared.

  “Went grocery shopping,” Nathan replied.

  “Grocery shopping? But it wasn’t a Saturday.” At Nathan’s glare, Danny grinned. “Why did you go grocery shopping?”

  Because my intimate…friend…insisted on it. And I’d do anything she asks because I’m hopelessly pussy-whipped and shamelessly into her.

  “Because I needed food.” Danny’s suspicious staring got on Nathan’s last nerve fast. “What?”

  “Stella force fed you, didn’t she?”

  When Nathan shook his head, Danny laughed. “Don’t even deny it, D. An Italian girl like that...”

  A tiny smile tugged at Nathan’s lips. “You should have seen the look on her face when she realized I had no food in the house. You would have thought I had severed heads shoved in my fridge and cupboards the way she freaked out. And when she found out I was diabetic?” Nathan scoffed. “I got a full nursing lecture on that after the grocery store.”

  “Is she as good in the kitchen as she is in the bedroom?” When Nathan shot him a warning glare, Danny shook his head, grinning like an idiot. “I knew it. What did she make?”

  “Something called bra…brosh…broshool?”

  “Oooh, braciole. One of my faves. Was it good? Did you save me any?”

  “How in the hell have you heard of that?”

  “The last foster home I stayed at – the Andersons – there was an Italian couple next door. The woman used to always cook huge amounts of food and then pass it out to all the neighbors,” Danny said. “Her braciole was my favorite.”

  “Some kind of stuffed meat?” At Danny’s nod, Nathan said, “Yeah. She tied it up with cooking twine or some shit and baked it. She made this awesome salad too with meat and cheese in it.”

  Nathan remembered how Stella’s face had lit up while she’d been cooking for him and how right it had felt to watch her bustle around his kitchen. And she’d been so happy watching him choke it down that she’d been beaming. It had been delicious, but Nathan was no fan of eating and especially not in front of people.

  “You ate enough to make her happy?”

  Nathan nodded. “She said something about usually being self-conscious when she eats in front of people and I thought about telling her.” He shrugged again. “But I didn’t. Of course. I ate enough to satisfy her sadistic need to stuff me and kept my bullshit to myself. No need to burden her with that shit, right?”

  “What did she say about the scars?”

  “She asked about them. I told her they’re none of her business and that was that.”

  Danny’s skeptical look was irritating as hell.

  “What, I’m gonna get into all that? Who wants to hear that shit?”

  “Uh, she probably does. Women want to know everything about the people they’re in love with. They’re weird like that.”

  “She’s not in love with me. Don’t be stupid, Mac. We’ve…hung out…a few times, but it’s nothing serious.”

  Liar.

  “Oh, she’s in love with you, dude. No doubt about it. And you’re in love with her.”

  Nathan wanted to laugh. He wanted to laugh and scoff and guffaw and slap his own knee in hilarity.

  Unfortunately, the best he managed was a strangled huff. “I’m not in love with her. I like her – she’s…nice. And interesting. But there’s no such thing as ‘being in love.’ Especially not where I’m coming from.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right.” Danny fiddled with the radio and settled on the sports station. “Well, in that case, I’ll wait out your ‘nice, interesting’ time with her and then go for her. I’m into hot sex and good food.”

  Nathan knew Danny was baiting him, but it didn’t matter. “If I so much catch you looking at her sideways…” Nathan made sure Danny met his eyes. “I’m not playing around, Danny. Stay the fuck away from her. She’s off-limits, got it?”

  Danny laughed. “Nope. Not in love with her at all. Definitely not.” He shook his head. “You poor, poor bastard.”

  “9…Patrol 7 needs back up. Stat.”

  Nathan pushed the radio button. “Go ahead.”

  “Domestic disturbance. A woman called saying her husband physically assaulted her and their five year old daughter. 7 is there, but the husband is drunk and abusive.”

  Nathan’s jaw ground down hard. “Address?”

  “659 Everly Garden.”

  “10-4. We’re en route.”

  ***

  “We’ve got a few injuries coming in via ambulance. Little girl and her mom. The police are accompanying one guy under arrest,” Esther called out to the nursing station at large.

  The back bay doors swished open and all available nurses ran to assist. The first stretcher rolled in. Eduardo, one of the EMTs, gave Stella and her colleagues the low down.

  “Female. 33 years old. Multiple contusions, lacerations, and possibly a broken wrist.”

  Stella visually assessed the woman, her chest tightening.

  She’d been beaten. Badly. She had a bleeding head wound and at least one black eye already forming.

  Stella patted the woman’s shoulder and forced a smile. “We’re going to take care of you. We’ve got you now, okay? Everything is going to be okay.”

  The woman tried to speak, but her lips were busted and swollen.

  Another nurse, Adriana, leaned closer. “What did you say, honey?”

  This time, they managed to make out, “My daughter, my daughter.”

  Adriana smooth back the woman’s matted hair off her forehead. “We hear you. And we’re going to take care of your little girl too, okay?”

  The woman nodded and her swollen eyelids closed. Or maybe she’d finally passed out.

  Adriana cursed in Spanish. “Can you handle the little girl?” she asked Stella. “I’m sorry, Stell…I just don’t think I can handle it right now.”

  Adriana had a four year old little girl at home and, while child abuse cases weren’t easy for anyone, Stella knew they were especially hard on the moms.

  “Of course. I’ll send Debbie to help. You guys take care of mama and I’ll take care of her baby,” Stella
replied.

  Adriana gave her a quick hug. “Thank you.”

  Stella jogged back to the bay in time for them to wheel in the second stretcher. She took a deep breath and braced herself for one of the hardest aspects of her job.

  Eduardo the EMT looked like he’d seen a ghost. “Female. Five years old. Multiple contusions and most likely a broken collarbone. Nothing life-threatening as far as we can tell.”

  Stella patted his arm. “I know. I got her. Thanks, Eduardo.” She did a visual on her newest patient as she wheeled her into a room.

  The yellow stuffed dog she was clutching nearly did Stella in.

  She forced her face into a smile and petted the stuffed dog. “What’s your puppy’s name?”

  “Rainbow.”

  There were a few bruises darkening on her face and her collarbone was clearly broken, but she’d taken the majority of her beating on her little arms and legs.

  “That’s a beautiful name,” Stella managed to eek out through her tight throat. She assessed the little girl’s pupils without her realizing it. “And what’s your name?”

  “Isabella.”

  She winced when Stella peeked through a patch of matted hair looking at a shallow, but heavily bleeding cut.

  “You have such beautiful blonde hair,” Stella said, how trying to gauge how close her collarbone was to poking out of her skin. “You know, a couple months ago, I had no hair.” When the little girl’s eyes widened, Stella nodded. “It all fell out. And I looked really funny.”

  “Why did your hair fall out?”

  Stella gingerly assessed the little girl’s bumps and bruises. She saw one of the ER docs, Jensen, making his way over. “I was sick. But I came to this hospital and they made me all better.” Stella stroked the little girl’s hand before turning to grab the IV supplies. “So you can be very sure we’re going to make you and your Mama all better, okay, Isabella?”

  She nodded solemnly.

  “Good,” Stella said with a smile.

  Dr. Jensen, a ruddy-faced guy who was as round and jolly as Santa, approached the exam room.

  But before he could say anything, the little girl whispered – to her puppy more than to them – “My daddy did this to me.”