For the past three days, she hasn't been well, but neither has the weather. I did some research on her autoimmune disorders, and I hate them. Anyone who suffers from them, I feel for them. I wish there was a cure, but of course, there is not. I plan to do my best to support CiCi during her flare-ups, but I won't push her. She knows her limits. When she called me this morning, she said she felt a bit better. So, today, I have a surprise.
The park next to my aunt’s has been closed to the children for playing on the structures and swings, but there is a large lawn and garden area that the town still takes care of. There are rules about social distancing, and since no one has been using the park, I made a plan. I set up a beautiful, romantic picnic for CiCi and me. She has been in that house now for over two full weeks. She needs out. The sun is shining today, and I wish to tell her something.
I knock on her door just before noon, and she opens it right away. “Hey, you.” She smiles and opens her arms for a hug. I immediately take her in my embrace and give her a gentle squeeze, breathing her in. She smells good. “Come in, let’s watch something.” She bites her lip before pulling away—damn woman. I can't let her get away with that. I pull her back to me and place my lips on hers for a heart-stopping kiss. She tastes even better than she looks. Standing on her tiptoes, I feel her return the kiss with fervor.
I pull back, flushing. “Damn. I've wanted to do that for so long.” Grinning, I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You are so beautiful, CiCi.”
She blushes. “To be honest, I've wanted you to do that for years.” She giggles and bites her lip again.
“Stop biting the lip, woman,” I tell her with a slight growl. “When you do that, it makes me crazy.” I stare at her and watch the shocked expression spread across her face.
“Oh...” Licking her lips, she tries to look away, but I stop her.
“Listen. I have a surprise for you. Get your shoes.” She steps away and searches for her shoes.
“What kind of surprise?” She bites her lip again, and I growl. She giggles.
I tell her she can wear her mask if she wants, but she won’t need it. I hold her hand as we walk across the street, and what an amazing feeling it is to have her hand in mine. She even came willingly and maskless. Bonus.
Celia
I have fallen for my dream man. I never thought it possible, but it seems fate has done its job. Noah may have a past, but it’s the now and future that matter. He gets me, treats me exceptionally well, and I trust him. And that kiss. Damn, that kiss was HOT!
I know it’s only been a few weeks, but my mother told me once that I would know the one when I found him. Thanks, Mom, I found him. I hope Noah feels the same way. I don't know what the future holds with the pandemic and the so-called 'new normal,' but I would love to have Noah in my life.
I hold his hand as he guides me to the park. He said he had a surprise for me. Once we turn the corner around the fence, I almost start to cry. The most beautiful picnic is laid out under a tree. A large bouquet of roses in a vase, heart-shaped balloons, a big wicker picnic basket sitting on a large plaid blanket. I look at him with watery eyes. “It's beautiful.”
We go sit down, and it’s then I notice a bucket of ice with champagne chilling in it. Oh my god! I love this man. How is this possible? It’s exactly like a dream I had. I begin to sit down, and he helps me. Dropping beside me, he plucks a rose from the vase and hands it to me.
“A beautiful flower for a beautiful woman,” he sweetly says and leans in to kiss me softly, which I accept fully. I wrap my arms around him and take the kiss deeper. It took me a minute to remember we are in the park, and I pull back.
“Thank you. I love this.” I stare into his eyes, they shine brightly. His skin glistens in the sun. I want to blurt it out, but I don't want to scare him off. I start, “I lo—” but stop and shake my head.
He raises his eyebrows and grins. “You what?” He reaches for the champagne and two glasses. Pouring us each half a glass, he refocuses his attention back on me.
“Okay, maybe later then.” He hands me a glass and takes a sip of his own. Drawing in a deep breath, he sets his glass down and reaches for my hand. “CiCi, I know it’s only been a few weeks, but it feels like we have known each other much longer.”
I take a sip of beverage and set my glass down. My heart starts to pound. Does he feel the same? Is he going to say it? Eek! I better let him talk. I place my other hand with ours and stare up at him.
He gives my hand a gentle squeeze. “I never thought it could be possible, but you seem to have taken over my heart.” He leans in, kissing my forehead. “I love you, CiCi. I think I fell in love with you when you first opened your door and slammed it in my face.” He chuckles and continues, “You don't have to say anything right now, but—”
I stopped him in his tracks by blurting my words out, “I love you, too!” I breathe a sigh of relief. “I thought it might be too soon to say. I didn't want to scare you.” He is quick to remove my hand, reaches under me, and scoops me up onto his lap.
“This is the best day.” He kisses me deeply and full of passion. “We won't let no pandemic stop us.” Another kiss and my body melts into his. I hope the neighbors aren't watching. How embarrassing. “I'm so happy right now. Thank you for loving me. You are the best thing to happen to me.” He gives me one last kiss and sets me back on the blanket, which is a good thing. If the kissing kept up, the show would turn rated R pretty quickly. That's what this man does to me. “Let's eat something, and after that, we can take the kissing back to the house.”
He winks and opens the basket.
About Jean Kelso
I'm a married mother of 2 boys who has survived many trials in life. During these trials, I have managed to write 4 romantic suspense stories that will leave you wanting more. My characters are mostly based off of real people, one is me. I hope you enjoy!
No Rest for the Wicked
Carey Decevito, Edits donated by Karen Hrdlicka
She'll be his. Forever. — No Rest for the Wicked
No Rest for the Wicked
Rett
“Go home.” Serena has her face stuck in a patient chart, updating it. “You should have clocked out four hours ago. If the Chief catches wind you’ve been on shift for nearly twenty hours, he’ll have my head.”
“See you Monday,” I tell her, waving my hand over my shoulder, not waiting for the reply I most likely wouldn’t get from the nurses’ station.
She’s right. If the Chief caught wind my replacement hadn’t come in for her shift, not only would he be pissed, but at this point, we can’t afford to lose any able hands, and we would.
This fucking pandemic is kicking our asses and taking names. It’s bad enough that we have employees out because they’ve either succumbed to burnout or they have become COVID patients themselves. We are barely coping with the revolving door on our medical staff rosters—nurse, physician, specialist—it doesn’t matter what specialty you’re in; for the last few months, it’s been all hands on deck.