Leaving Normal by Stef Holm (whitelam books txt) 📗

"How did everything go?" he asked, his eyes framed by dark lashes and eyebrows that were black slants, arched just slight enough to question.

She licked her lips, gazed at him and felt emotions building in her heart. It was curious how he'd melted into her life like an icicle slowly dripping and blending into the ground—her ground, her territory.

They had been building a friendship of sorts, a mutual admiration and a respect that she had never built upon as a foundation for a male-female association before. She liked that she could trust him in ways she found very comforting. Again, she wondered if it was because of what he did for his job—or was it more that he was a man who seemed open and honest and kind, someone who didn't play up attributes or traits he didn't have for the sake of looking good to others.

Tony Cruz, on many levels, mystified her. But he also intrigued her. She thought he was incredible. Too great for words.

Perhaps she did have a bit of a crush on him.

Frowning at that thought, she acknowledged she knew that she did. And it bothered her somewhat. There was no point in an infatuation; she was years older, he was newly divorced and he needed to adjust and make concessions to being on his own, finding out who he was without a woman in his life.

"Everything went fine. They removed the lumps." She took another sip of the soup, which did seem to help the uneasiness in her stomach. However, not enough of the pain pill remained in her to take the edge off the ache where her incisions were.

For some reason, she expected his gaze to drop to her breasts. Tony didn't look. His eyes remained fixed on hers. "You're going to be okay?"

She understood what he meant by "okay." Not okay in the sense of medically okay, but emotionally okay. That he could sense she needed to speak it aloud brought a rise of gooseflesh on her arms. She hadn't even realized that she had to make such a declaration.

"Yes. I am okay. Thanks…Tony."

The sound of his name on her lips caused her to smile briefly. She forgot about the horrid state of her appearance and took a large measure of peace and strength in his presence.

She finished her soup and he took the cup from her. Laying her head back on the pillow, she closed her eyes, then caught herself talking. "I fainted today. The first time I have ever fainted in my life."

When he didn't say anything, she went on, taking his cue of silence as one to continue.

"They put me in the mammogram machine and stuck a needle in my boob. Then they took a picture. It hurt so bad." She closed her eyes more tightly, tensing in remembrance. "He took a picture and made me wait in the damn thing with my boob smashed and then he came back. He didn't get the needle in the spot, so he had to take it out and try again. Took him three tries. It was the second needle that got to me. I think my body went into shock or something. He left the room and all I remember was saliva building in my mouth, my ears ringing, and I tried to get out of that X-ray machine but I couldn't. I woke up on a hospital bed with my feet elevated and a wet cloth on my forehead. I was hoping it was over. It wasn't. I had to go back in the X-ray machine and he had to get that second needle in. I have never in my life encountered such physical pain…"

The words trailed, she felt her body sigh. She swallowed. A hand came over her forehead, her hair was smoothed away from her face. She thought she was dreaming for a moment, then opened her eyes to view Tony's face. He smiled at her, softly and slightly.

"I can't go through something like that again," was all she managed to say. She knew deep in her heart that if it came down to it, she would have to do the same thing. But it was hard to think about. She prayed it would be done now. Over. She didn't want such a scare again. But she knew there were no guarantees about the future.

Nothing was certain in life. No matter how badly she wanted things to be neat and orderly, to eventually find and meet the right man, she had no real control over that particular fate.

"You will if you have to," Tony said, his warm hand smoothing the hair from her forehead, tucking a piece of it behind her ear. His deep voice was solicitous, his words empathetic. She felt warmth breathe into her heart, her very core. He could make a shudder heat her body and cool her skin at the same time. She'd never encountered someone like him before.

She fought off a wave of emotions so deep and so profound, they gave her a shiver.

"Tony…" She opened her eyes. "I thought about dying when they took me into the operating room. I've never had a thought like that before. Do you think about dying when you're at work?"

"I never really think about the danger or dying." His expression was dark, emotion-filled.

Maybe it was the lingering effects of the Vicodan making her talk of truths and worries. Maybe it was wanting to know the little details about him and watch the play of light come into his eyes. She wasn't sure why, didn't really care. But she had to ask, "What's your biggest fear?"

He didn't readily answer, perhaps struggling for the right response to give her—either an unbridled truth or a reply that painted him in a heroic light. At length, he said, "I have a fear that something will go bad in a fire. That another firefighter will need my help and