He clenched his hands, feeling like the floor under him had suddenly turned into quicksand. Ginger had never said a word about that. Neither had his family. There had been no sign of an infant at her parents’ farm, or in her apartment. “What happened to the baby?” he whispered.
“She lost it on her flight back to the States.” Red rimmed Debbie’s eyes, and she sniffled. “Thankfully the plane landed soon after she started hemorrhaging. They rushed her to the hospital, so she was okay, but was too late for the baby.”
No, no, no. His mind emptied of everything but that one word: no.
“She was in shock, in pain, and she couldn’t call the one person who should’ve been with her. So she called me instead. She didn’t even tell her family because she was so worried about how they’d react. And it goes without saying your family never found out. I pretended like I went to meet her in Amsterdam for a shopping spree.” She breathed out harshly.
Shane doubled over, raising a hand. He couldn’t listen to any more. God, the pain… What the hell had he done?
But Debbie wasn’t finished. “Ginger’s a good person, get it? She’s one of the sweetest and gentlest people out there, always worried about others, and you don’t even begin to appreciate her. You’ve got no idea what you have because you’re so stuck being worried about whatever you think is more important than making her happy. If I were in your shoes, I’d kiss the ground she walks on every day.
“You don’t deserve her,” she said. “You never did, and I can’t believe she’s even given you a second chance. I sure as hell wouldn’t have.”
“Stop,” he croaked. Self-loathing closed around his throat, and he couldn’t breathe. How could he have hurt Ginger like that? What the hell was wrong with him?
He gripped his head as he fell slowly to his knees.
Ginger gave him a coy smile while taking his picture.
“What picture did you take?”
“Your funny face?” she said with an embarrassed giggle.
“Don’t think so.” He reached over and grabbed her camera before she could stop him. It was the best digital camera on the market—his present for her birthday. He viewed the shot. “My lips?”
“You do have lovely lips,” she said primly, not quite meeting his gaze.
“I do, don’t I?” He grinned. “But then so do you.” He leaned in and brushed his mouth over hers.
The shape—the wide, Cupid-bow upper lip sitting over a perfectly curved bottom one. The texture—soft, plump and yielding. Then the taste—sweet fruit and cream with a hint of spice.
He licked the seam between her lips with the tip of his tongue, teasing and coaxing. She opened up with a sigh, then suddenly flicked his tongue with hers playfully. Her mouth curved into a smile as he deepened their contact and wrapped his arms around her. It was a kind of miracle—a simple kiss that made him feel like the king of the world.
Their first kiss…
The stairwell spun, or maybe it was him that was spiraling down. Shane couldn’t tell—darkness filled his vision like spilled ink. Something hard and unyielding pummeled his body, and he welcomed the physical pain. He deserved it. He deserved much worse.
Ginger… Their baby… She should’ve beaten the shit out of him when she’d come to Thailand.
A muffled scream. A small pinprick of light.
Then all black.
Chapter Twenty-One
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Lines. So many damn lines and be
eps and machines and people and hands.
The faces were hazy, like they were shrouded in white. There was a pervading smell of bleach.
His head hurt, and his body felt like it had been pummeled with a meat tenderizer. A woman murmured something to the people around him, and stuck a needle into the IV. Soon a pleasant fog spread around him and the pain faded. He tried to figure out what was going on. He’d been at Ginger’s apartment…
Ginger… The baby…
He gasped as the pain twisted in his heart. He clutched at his chest, his hand shaking.