Whisky Christmas Page 3
“Pack and dress Jane Doe as best you can, then gown up and meet us in the OR,” Gage commanded. “We’re gonna need you in on this one.”
“Shit, okay.”
I worked as quickly as I could, Nadia and Dawn by my side, to stabilize my patient the best I could. When I was sure she wasn’t going to tank in the next hour, I hurried up to the operating room, where I found Logan and Gage, already gowned and gloved, scrubbed in, scalpels in hand. Gage was working on the chest while Logan had taken the left arm.
“Quick imaging suggests a splenic laceration,” Gage told me as I stepped up, and once again, scenes from the first surgery I’d performed in this theater came flooding back. Grade four laceration. Devascularization. Complete splenectomy.
Blood was pouring from the abdomen, and if we didn’t get the hemorrhage stopped, he was going to bleed out in a matter of minutes. I grabbed a ten blade, and with a single deep breath, feeling the weight of the scalpel in my hand, I cut.
Sounds of the machines beeping, counting out heartbeats, faded into the background as I opened up, applied suction, and soaked what I could with lap pads. I was focused on my task, singly fixated on the problem in front of me. This man had a hundred more that would need to be addressed, but one thing at a time. This was damage control surgery, and all I could worry about for now was stopping the bleeding coming from the spleen.
Once the operative field was as clear as it was going to get, one thing became immediately apparent—there was no saving the spleen. The time it would have taken to do so was more than this man had, and with his pressure dropping as fast as it was, I made the decision in the span of a single heartbeat.
“Complete splenectomy,” I said, as I began to cut, removing it carefully from the pancreas and tying everything off as quickly as I could.
My hands were needed elsewhere.
The surgery took a total of six hours, and the end of this one signaled the beginning of a long road of medical intervention for this patient, but we’d caught all the bleeders, stopped the hemorrhages, and for now, he was critical but stable.
Soaked with blood and limbs that felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, I stood in the center of the OR as the patient was wheeled out, staring at the two other surgeons, the full weight of what we’d accomplished settling over me.
He was alive—for now at least—we’d saved him.
An hour later, I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my hands. It was so fucking surreal, and it didn’t get any easier, thinking about my hands, bathed in someone else’s blood, buried in someone else’s abdomen.
“You okay?”
The sound of Gage’s voice soothed my ragged heart as he rounded the corner and slid his arms across my chest. He held me to him, the faint puff of his breath against the side of my neck sending shivers through me.
“Better now,” I said.
“Me too.”
I relaxed into him, thinking about how the night had gotten so far off track from where I’d planned it to go. “Any word on the other patients?”
“Everyone’s stable. If the pilot makes it through the night, it looks like everyone is going to survive.”
“A real Christmas miracle.”
“Yep.”
“Do you want to head back to J’s? See if anyone from your party is still around?”
Gage looked at his watch. “I think it’s pretty likely folks have headed home by now.”
I sighed. “Probably. I’m sorry you didn’t get to enjoy it—or even arrive at it.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I don’t need a party.”
I nodded. “I know. But I wanted to do something for you, to show you how much you’re loved in this town.”
“Holden, since you walked into my life, it doesn’t matter what we’re celebrating. Thanksgiving, Christmas, birthdays… every day is better with you in it. And I know you went to a lot of trouble to plan this for me. I know how hard you worked to put it together. And I know you did it because you love me. I didn’t think it was possible for anyone to love me the way you do. I’m so grateful to have you.”
My throat felt suddenly thick, and I didn’t want to be standing in a hospital anymore.
“Take me home?”
A slow grin spread across Gage’s face. “Yeah. Let’s go home.”
“I’ll start a fire,” Gage said. The house was a few degrees too cold when we walked through the door, the heater unable to keep up with the temperatures dropping as low as they had.
I slid my hands beneath his jacket, pushing it off over his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. “Don’t bother. I have a better way for you to warm me up.”
Cocking one eyebrow, his eyes suddenly went dark. “Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?”
“You haven’t gotten your birthday present yet.”
He faked surprise. “You’re right. I haven’t.” His hands went to my back, his fingertips slipping beneath the waistband of my pants as he cupped my ass. “What is it? A new espresso machine?”
“No, though that’s not a terrible gift idea. Maybe I should return what I got you and buy one of those instead.”
“A waffle maker?”
“Wrong again.” He kissed the side of my neck, and involuntarily, I whimpered. “Seriously, though, that espresso machine’s coming your way as soon as I can order one.”
He laughed, and I felt the noise as much as I heard it, the sound of his happiness reverberating through me. “So, what is it, then? What do I get for my birthday?”
“You get to fuck me any way you want.”
“Any way?” The look in his eyes and the smile on his face told me I was going to enjoy this as much as he was. Maybe more.
“Yep.”
Without a second of hesitation, he bend forward and lifted me, tossing me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, all the way up the stairs and into the bedroom. My sides were sore from laughing by the time we got there, and he dumped me unceremoniously onto the bed.
“What if I wanted you to strip for me? Do a little dance?” he asked, palming his dick through his pants as he said it.
“I told you. Whatever you want.” There was a cockiness to the way he smiled down at me, but I could read the exhaustion in his face too. “You want a striptease?”
He shook his head. “Not tonight. I don’t have the patience for that… All I want is to be buried inside you.”
“Yes,” I breathed, suddenly overwhelmed with needing him.
With that, his hands flew to me, tugging and pulling, frenzied, well-practiced movements that had me bare and open on the bed in front of him in no time at all. He stood over me, his naked body as breathtaking as the first time I’d seen it.
With a quick slick of lube, he pressed inside me, bare skin against bare skin, rocking into me as my body adjusted to him.
He paused for a moment, his breath matching mine, and the space between us became charged with a thousand feelings I still didn’t have a name for, even after all this time. I loved him more than I ever thought possible, and the sensation of him moving over me, inside me—loving me the way only Gage could—I thought I would break apart from the intensity of it.
After weeks of feeling distant and a day that was all-consuming for all the wrong reasons, it felt so good to lose myself in Gage, to let him get lost in me. He took what he needed from me, the length of him moving inside me, the angle perfect to hit all the places only he knew about.
Every cell in my body shone brighter than the tree downstairs, and soon I could feel the heavy pleasure of my orgasm inching in around the edges.
“Gage,” I gasped, a second before his mouth covered mine, his hands tightening on me. He was so close… as close as I was.
Straining toward the finish line, he thrust harder, his rhythm unalterable, until it wasn’t. His movement faltered, his tempo stuttering as he pushed inside one last time, burying himself deep as he came.
The sound of his ragged breath, the friction of his body movi
ng against my desperate cock, and the noises he made as he gave himself over to pleasure washed over me, tipping me over the edge and shattering me into a thousand pieces. Slick heat spilled between us, and Gage collapsed forward, angling slightly to the side to keep me from having to bear his full weight.
Carefully, he pulled out and gathered me close to him.
I pressed a kiss to the center of his chest. “Happy birthday.”
He lifted his head and glanced at the clock on the nightstand behind me. “It’s after midnight. It’s not my birthday anymore.”
Leaning in, I kissed the tip of his nose. “Merry Christmas Eve, then.”
“Merry Christmas Eve,” he repeated. “And in that case, it’s your turn to get a present.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’ve already unwrapped it?”
He rolled me, covering my body with his. “Such a smartass. One of the many reasons I love you so goddamn much.”
“I love you so goddamn much too.”
Sawyer’s Ferry Series
Alaska
Laguna
Bishop Ridge
Zero Hour Series
A Forced Silence
A Fallen Heart
A Forgotten Life (Coming Soon)
Hope Cove Series
Brokenhearted
Wholehearted
Ironhearted
Newport Boys Series
Keeping Sweets
Resurrecting Elliott
Standalone Stories
All He Ever Needed
Home Skillet
When the Devil Wants In
Textual Relations
Married for a Month
The Mistletoe Effect
His Fairy Godfather
Thirty Things
Tasting Notes
The Storm Before the Calm
Bloom Box (Heartsville)
Brick by Brick
Five Ways a Boy Can Break Your Heart
Riding the Board
Cate discovered her love for books of all kinds early on, but romance is where her heart truly lies. She is addicted to the happily ever afters and the journey the characters take to get there. Currently residing in White Rock, B.C, Cate loves living just a stone's throw from the ocean. When she's not writing, she can be found consuming coffee at an alarming rate while wrangling her children, her husband, and their two cats.
Cate loves to hear from readers. You can contact her at cateashwood@gmail.com or on her website http://www.cateashwood.com.
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