The Music Of Marcus

By: Lainey Bancroft | Other books by Lainey Bancroft
Categories: Mainstream Romance, Contemporary, Short Stories
Word Count: 8,643
Heat Level: SWEET
Published By: The Wild Rose Press

 

When Carrie Arnold's only son, Jonathan, received a diagnosis her husband wasn't equipped to handle and he left her, she thought the melody of her life had been rendered permanently discordant. For twelve years she's single-handedly kept a stable environment for her son. At forty-four, she's resigned herself to being single. She's proud of the strength and independence she gained through her struggles, but when a hit and run accident sends Jonathan into a coma, she discovers her strength may not be enough.
During the tense weeks of Jonathan's hospitalization, Carrie begins to rely on his handsome physiotherapist, Marcus, as her friend?and then more. She's attracted to him in ways that feel completely inappropriate under the circumstances. And worse, she hasn't been exactly honest with him about Jonathan's limitations. Could a younger man really contemplate changing the tune of her lonely life, or is Carrie hearing music where none exists?







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The Music Of Marcus
The Music Of Marcus

Available in: Adobe Acrobat, Microsoft Reader, HTML

Price: $1.50



 

 

Excerpt

Jonathan's therapist, Marcus Roark was already in the room. She walked in to find him whistling softly while he skillfully maneuvered her boy's legs. She smiled when she recognized the tune, the hip bone's connected to the...

It was no mistake she was here so early. After she 'd discovered Jonathan was Marcus' first patient, she deliberately altered her daily routine.

Since the accident, Carrie had never felt so empty. Not even in the first dark days after her divorce had she been so desperate for human contact. The consideration Marcus always showed her was like pouring a song into her silent heart. He had given her the only positive feelings she'd had in the long, bleak days after her child was struck by a car.

The undeniable pull she felt toward the cheerful physiotherapist surfaced the first time he'd smiled at her. It hadn't been the saccharine-coated sympathy that many of the hospital staff delivered by rote. He had taken the time to engage her with a warm genuine grin, accompanied by a reassuring squeeze to her upper arm.

She closed her eyes, still remembering the aberrant urge she'd had that morning to fling herself into his arms and sob all over him.