I wish someone would find some answers—and soon.

  The next day is a nightmare. Nicole’s violently sick to the point she’s vomiting blood. They assure me it’s from the stress of throwing up so often and so hard, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.

  I’m going to lose my shit if one more person tells me, “It’s normal.” No way is that fucking normal.

  The doctor walks in as I’m wiping sweat from Nicole’s brow and force-feeding her an ice chip. Fuck if I can remember this chick’s name. All I can remember is it’s foreign and it starts with a T.

  “I’m sorry your reaction to the increase in medication’s made you so sick, Nicole,” she begins. “I’ve ordered anti-nausea meds and something to help you rest.”

  She moans. “This is so bad.”

  “I know. I’m going to try to help you feel better right now,” she says as she takes a syringe and pushes medication slowly into Nicole’s IV. “You’re going to get sleepy, Nicole. I’d rather you sleep than keep this up.”

  “I agree,” I say. “I don’t know how much more her body can take of this.”

  The doctor nods, then takes a second syringe of fluid and pushes it into the IV. “That’s why we’re going to sedate her a bit. We pushed the dose because we might have a potential match.”

  Hope. It fills my chest. “Is it someone we know?”

  “No, it’s someone on the donor list. We’re running the tests again because it looked close, but close doesn’t work in this situation. We have strict criteria that must be met in order for the procedure to have a chance at success,” she informs me.

  I wipe Nicole’s face with a cool cloth as she goes to sleep then sit down in the chair, my elbows resting on my knees.

  “So there’s a chance this won’t be successful?” I ask, already hating the answer.

  She nods. “There’s always that chance.”

  I hang my head.

  “She’s a fighter, Mr. Kingston.” When I just look at her, she continues. “Your wife. She’s a fighter. She needs you to stay strong and fight with her. It matters more than you can imagine.”

  I nod. “I’ll never give up on Nicole.”

  The doctor smiles. “Good. That’s what we like to hear. I’ll be back this afternoon. Nicole should be awake by then.”

  I nod. “Thanks.”

  The doctor smiles. “I want her to win as much as you do.”

  “She will.”

  I wake up to the sound of voices and a very stiff neck.

  “Mr. Kingston.”

  I turn at the sound of an authoritative voice, a voice I don’t recognize.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m Dr. Peerson. I’d like to discuss with you and Nicole the process we use to try to find positive donor matches and the results we’ve found so far,” he tells me.

  I reach out a hand to shake his and he grips it firmly.

  I sit back in the chair and look at Nicole, who’s anxious. It’s obvious by the way she’s biting on her lip. I reach out and rub her bottom lip with my index finger.

  “None of that, honey. Just squeeze my hand,” I tell her and she nods, gripping my hand between both of hers and holding it to her chest. Her heart’s beating so fast, but then again, so is mine.

  We listen as he goes through all the databases they’ve accessed and how they determine a positive match. I knew it was a thorough process, but I had no idea just how intense it is.

  “There’s no room for error,” he tells us and now I completely understand why.

  Nicole squeezes my hand now, pretty damn hard for someone who’s so sick.

  “The results of the human leukocyte antigen candidates we found hadn’t been very promising. We’d found some that met the HLA criteria, but they either had an infection history that excluded them or some of their characteristics didn’t match well with yours.”

  Just like that, all hope fades away. Coley moves her hands—and mine—up to cover her mouth, to quiet her gasp of fear.

  “Breathe, Nicole,” he says with a smile. “You didn’t notice I was using past tense, I’m so sorry. I should have just started with the fact that we did find a donor and we’re all set for the BMT.”

  “Shut! Up!” she yells and I let out a laugh.

  “No,” I say, “don’t shut up. Keep giving us good news.”

  Dr. Peerson chuckles. “Just a couple treatments left, a few days of rest, and you’ll receive the infusion.”

  Nicole’s laughing through tears. “I can’t believe it. I thought for sure…” she breaks off.

  “One thing you should know about Dr. Donovan and Dr. Taqneesh is that neither of them give up—ever. They’re tenacious and I have to tell you, they keep those doing the testing on their toes.”

  “In other words,” I say, “they’re up their asses until they find the match.”

  “That about sums it up,” he says with a chuckle.

  “I knew Dr. D was a go-getter, but I had no idea,” Nicole mutters.

  “You should know. He’s the one who’s been up your ass for months,” I correct.

  “That’s a fact. He cracks a mean whip.”

  “All for a good reason,” Dr. Peerson tells us.

  “Yeah,” Nicole whispers.

  “Dr. Taqneesh will be back tomorrow and will give you any other information you need.”

  “Thanks, doc,” I say, and shake his hand again.

  “It truly is my pleasure.”

  With that, he’s gone and when the door closes Nicole and I are sitting in silence. She’s staring straight ahead at the door that just closed and I’m looking at her but not really seeing her as I process what just happened.

  Her head snaps to the side and she looks at me with a huge smile.

  “There’s my sunshine,” I tell her.

  “I think I like that,” she says. “I have something to tell you and you might not like it—but you’re going to have to deal with it anyway.”

  I raise a brow. “Do I, now?”

  She nods. “You do.”

  I cross my arms over my chest and lean back in the chair. “All right. Let’s hear it.”

  “When I’m well and I see Dr. Donovan, I’m going to give him a big kiss right on the lips!” she tells me with a giggle.

  “I might do the same thing,” I tease.

  She laughs and laughs, her spirits lifted from where they were.

  “I’d pay to see that,” she says.

  I shake my head and smile back at her, then move to sit beside her and pull her into my arms, holding her close.

  “Finally some good news,” she mumbles against my chest.

  I look up, not to the ceiling or to the sky, but to the God I’d prayed to that I’m starting to believe in. “Thank God.”

  THEY’RE GOING OVER the potential complications of the procedure with me—again—as a catheter is being inserted to the vein leading to my heart. I’m not going to lie. This is scary—really scary.

  A lot of people make note of this date and consider it their rebirth or second chance at life, but I already have that date marked on my calendar. It’s the date when Lucy picked me to be the Blush Baby. That’s the date my whole world changed. Without them there’d be no way I could afford any of the medical care I’m receiving now. Without them, I wouldn’t have the funds available to go to college. Without them, I wouldn’t have learned the lesson Sera taught me—family isn’t always determined by blood. She told me Lucy taught her that when they started adopting these crazy rockers as family. And without them, I’d have never met Ben—my amazingly stubborn husband who, at this very moment, is trying so hard to hide his panic, but he’s failing epically.

  “Ben, love,” I whisper and his eyes move from the catheter up to mine.

  “Hmm?” he asks, as he stands there, one arm folded across his chest, the other bent upward as he chews on his thumbnail, his gaze trailing back to my chest.

  “Stop.”

  His gaze snaps back to mine. “What’s wr
ong?” he asks.

  “Nothing except the fact that you’re going to chew your thumb down to the bone pretty soon,” I tease.

  He gives me a sheepish smirk. “Sorry. It’s scary as shit watching them put that in there, knowing it goes right to your heart. If anything were to happen—”

  “Shh,” I cut him off. “We’re fine.”

  He looks at the catheter again then back to me. He shakes his head.

  “Ben,” Dr. T says. “She’s been through the worst of it.”

  He nods.

  “Think back to the violent vomiting,” I remind him and he winces.

  “I’d rather not.”

  “This is nothing compared to that. I don’t feel this at all.”

  “No?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  “Okay,” he tells me. He reaches for one of my hands and I shake my head. “Oh yeah.” He walks over and washes his hands again. He’s got on sterile scrubs: top, bottoms, booties, cap, and they’re now putting on his mask. They’re not going to make him wear gloves since he’s not touching anything but my hand—and his are sterile from the soap scrub they use.

  “Ready?” Dr. T asks.

  “Yes,” I tell her. “More than ready.”

  She winks and hooks up the stem cell infusion to my catheter.

  “Here we go.”

  Three days later I’m just falling asleep to take a nap, while Ben goes back to his hotel to shower and change clothes, when the plastic on my door is peeled back. Gotta love isolation.

  A tall man in sterile hospital scrubs enters, then walks over to wash his hands again. Um…

  He turns slightly and… he looks familiar. My mind flashes back to that cold Colorado night when this same tall man took me and my mama in, protecting us and giving us a home.

  “Uncle Frank?” I ask quietly.

  He takes in a deep breath as he dries his hands. Then he turns to me, his eyes wet with emotion he doesn’t bother to try to hide.

  “Nicole,” he whispers and walks over to me, hugging me to him, rocking me slowly as I cry.

  “How did you find me?” I ask through my tears.

  “That’s not the question that needs to be answered right now,” he tells me, sitting back. I rest back against my pillow and look at him in confusion. “The question that needs to be answered is: why, Nicole? Why did you go?”

  The hurt in his eyes makes me feel guilty for what I did, but I did it for a good reason.

  “I had to,” I tell him, my eyes pleading with him to understand.

  “You didn’t.”

  “He was close and I wasn’t going to be the reason you, Aunt Monica and the kids had to move again. Again.” I stress.

  “That’s not a decision you should have made alone. We had a say, Nicole,” he tells me.

  “The boys were finally adjusted and happy, Uncle Frank. I wasn’t going to force you to rip them from the home that made them so happy, not because of him,” I confess.

  “Nicole, you didn’t force anyone to do anything. We love you like one of our own. We’d do anything for you. Do you know how much that hurt Monica and me? You took a piece of us with you when you left,” he tells me, a tear falling from his eye.

  “I left a piece of myself there with you, too. I did the only thing that seemed right. You had already sacrificed so much—”

  He grabs my shoulders. “I would die for you, Coley. Don’t you know that? You may not be mine biologically, but you’re the daughter of my heart. It very nearly killed me when you left and I couldn’t find you.” He pulls me back against him and I’m swallowed by his warmth.

  “I don’t want you to die for me. I wanted you to be happy, to live a normal life, for the boys to live a normal life with you.”

  He sighs. “And what about your life? Going into foster care while you were so sick.” He shakes his head. “Foster care. It’s no wonder we couldn’t find you. That and changing your name. Clever, but so fucking unnecessary, my girl,” he tells me.

  “I’m sorry I made you worry. I never meant to hurt you.”

  He nods against me. “I know.”

  We hold each other for a long time before I ask the question again.

  “How did you find me?”

  He sits back. “I have a few secrets we hadn’t told you yet. We wanted to wait until you were eighteen.”

  I lift a brow. “What sorts of secrets?”

  “Big ones,” he admits. “My last name isn’t really Parsons. That was my mother’s maiden name.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Much like you, I had family I didn’t want to take part in, not then anyway.”

  “So you went with Parsons…”

  He nods. “Instead of Russo.”

  I blink and my heart begins to race. “What?” I whisper.

  He nods. “I’m Frank Russo.”

  “Shut the front door!”

  He chuckles. “It’s not open.” I snort and he grins. “Too much Sera time.”

  “How are you related? How close are you to them? Did you know that Lucy picked me for the Blush Baby? Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” I blurt out question after question and he chuckles again.

  “I’m Anthony Russo’s cousin, brother of Ernesto Russo, son of Lorenzo Russo who’s brother to Giovanni Russo which makes me—”

  “Giovanni’s nephew. Holy Hannah,” I whisper and he grins.

  “When Lucy’s at home, I work as her bodyguard of sorts,” he tells me.

  “No kidding?”

  “Nope. And to answer your question, I didn’t know it was you as the Blush Baby. If I’d known I’d have been there from the very first day, my girl.” He hugs me again. “I’ve missed you so much, Nicole.”

  “I missed you too,” I tell him, a watery mess.

  The plastic peels back on the door again and I hear Ben’s sigh of disappointment.

  “I’m gone less than an hour and my wife’s in the arms of another man.”

  I snort and Frank chuckles.

  “What’s up, Frank?” Ben asks as he washes his hands, as if this isn’t a surprise to him.

  I narrow my eyes at Ben through the mirror by the sink.

  “Don’t go giving me squinty eyes, Sunshine. It was a surprise. And, besides,” he tells me as he dries his hands, “I just found out, myself.”

  “Hmm,” I say, not quite believing him.

  “Truth,” Ben says, holding up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

  I snort again. “You were never a scout.”

  “Technically, no. But in spirit…” he trails off and I snicker.

  “You goof,” I tell him and he kisses me through both of our masks. I sit back and get comfortable. “Which one of you is going to tell me the story behind this?”

  They take turns relaying what they know and when they’re done only one thought is in my head.

  “Giovanni Russo is going to be in some seriously hot water when Lucy finds out.”

  “He’s already there with Sera and Cage,” Ben tells me.

  “Ooh. Giovanni Russo or not, his life is going to suck for a while.”

  Uncle Frank nods. “That’s a fact.”

  “Finally,” Ben says as he kisses down my neck, “finally I can kiss and touch your bare skin.”

  “Mmm, all you want,” I reply. “You can do whatever you want as long as it keeps feeling as good as it does right now.”

  Ben grins and looks up at me from where he was just licking my belly button. “Sunshine, it’s going to feel so much better than this.”

  “Then get to it,” I order, teasing. “All talk and no action, that’s my husband.”

  He growls. “Is that so?”

  I nod. “So it would seem. Can you convince me otherwise?” I challenge.

  He grins again, this time with a devilish edge and moisture pools between my thighs. “Let’s find out.”

  He wastes no time. He pulls my panties down and begins licking my pussy. I moan aloud. Holy Hannah
that feels amazing. It gets even better when he opens me with his thumbs then plunges his tongue into me. My eyes roll back in my head and I swear I’m going to come already.

  He alternates between fucking me with his tongue and licking my clit, and when he reaches up to gently squeeze my nipple, I’m done for. The orgasm bursts free, pulling me under into an abyss of pleasure, each spiral stealing my breath.

  “Ben!” I scream, not caring who hears me in this hotel. When the last shudder runs through me, I feel his grin against me.

  “How was that?” he asks.

  “Huh?”

  He chuckles. “More?”

  “Of that? Maybe later. I want you inside me.”

  “There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” he tells me as he braces himself on his forearms beside my head. It reminds me of the first time—all except for that glint in his eyes that tells me there’ll be no mercy.

  Wasting no time, he thrusts into me, again, and again, and when he’s as deep as he can go he lets out a groan.

  “Heaven,” he mutters as he moves inside me, filling me so full I can’t breathe without feeling him everywhere. “Sunshine and light. Hot, wet heat.”

  I sigh when he adjusts his position, his cock hitting me just right. I can feel it building again.

  “Until your smile, it was all darkness,” he murmurs against my lips, his eyes staring into mine.

  “Ben,” I whisper, touching his cheek with my hand.

  “Until you, it was loneliness.”

  Tears well in my eyes.

  “Until your touch, I felt nothing.”

  My breath catches as the orgasm builds, drawing nearer.

  “Until your love, my life was empty, Nicole. So fucking empty,” he tells me, his eyes wet with emotion.

  “Come for me, Sunshine. Light up the darkness for me.”

  It’s as if my body can’t deny him. It surrenders immediately to his demand as the pleasure, hot as lightning, flares through my belly and outward.

  “Ben, oh God,” I moan and he watches me. He sees it all and I give it to him. Everything I am. Right here, right now, from here on out he owns every piece of me.

  “Jesus,” he whispers, his tear falling onto my cheek, and he thrusts hard one final time, his body shuddering above me, as I cup his face in my hands. I see it. The depth of his love blazing in his eyes as he lays himself bare in front of me, this man who has become the reason I’m grateful for each sunrise. This man who is the love of my life. This man who I’m blessed to call my husband.