His Best Mistake. KRISTI GOLD
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“Believe me, you’re not going to be happy about this.”
Confusion called out from Kevin’s piercing brown eyes. “Just spill it, Leah.”
As the old adage went, a picture was worth a thousand words, which was why Leah chose to remove the photograph from the clear plastic folder. A photograph that resided among others of friends and family and all those precious in her life, including one of her and Kevin taken during their final vacation in Mexico that for some reason she hadn’t had the desire to remove. But this particular photo was the most precious of all.
She dropped the wallet back into her bag and offered the picture to Kevin without explanation. Clarification would come soon enough.
He studied the photo for a time before his gaze snapped to hers. “Who is this?” Her gift. Her miracle. Her entire world.
“She’s your daughter, Kevin.”
Dear Reader,
After I learned I was expecting my first child, I couldn’t imagine how I would handle all the sleepless nights, the countless diaper changes, the absolute fear of failure. Believe me, I had more than a few “what was I thinking?” moments during that pregnancy. But after my daughter’s birth, it didn’t take long before I couldn’t imagine my life without her.
As remarkable as becoming a parent can be, it does tend to alter your schedule, to say the least. You can’t always sleep when you feel like it, you don’t always have ample alone time. You can’t routinely party until dawn or travel cross-country on a whim. After all, an innocent child is counting on you to provide the most basic of needs—food, clothing, shelter and, most important, love. In other words, it is true what they say—having a baby does change everything. And that is what inspired me to write a story about a confirmed bad-boy bachelor, who has made more than his share of mistakes, and his unanticipated journey into fatherhood that leads to his redemption.
I hope you enjoy His Best Mistake, where Kevin O’Brien discovers that living for the moment isn’t nearly as rewarding as living for the ones you love.
Happy reading!
Kristi Gold
His Best Mistake
Kristi Gold
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Kristi Gold has always believed that love has remarkable healing powers and feels very fortunate to be able to weave stories of love and commitment. As a bestselling author, National Readers’ Choice winner and Romance Writers of America RITA® Award finalist, Kristi has learned that although accolades are wonderful, the most cherished rewards come from personal stories shared by readers and networking with other authors, both published and aspiring. You may contact Kristi through her Web site, www.kristigold.com, Facebook or through snail mail at P.O. Box 24197, Waco, Texas 76702 (please include an SASE for response).
In loving memory of my wonderful mother,
Jean.
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPILOGUE
PROLOGUE
“IT’S APLASTIC ANEMIA…it can be fatal…”
As a senior staff writer for a prominent sports magazine, Kevin O’Brien possessed an extensive vocabulary. But the words aplastic anemia meant nothing to him. Fatal did.
Not five minutes ago, he’d been in his Houston loft packing for a trip after arranging a rare interview with a well-known pro-football player. Now his physician brother was pretty much telling him he could be biting the big one, reaching the finish line and every other clichéd description of death that came to mind.
No way could this be happening now. He had a great career that had been years in the making. He’d been involved in an eight-month relationship with a woman who had come to mean more to him than he’d ever thought possible. He was only thirty-five, and he still had too much left to do to die. But in light of the grave look on Devin’s face, he might not have any choice in the matter.
Needing to sit, and fast, Kevin raked a newspaper from his favorite lounger and dropped down on the chair. “Are you sure about this?”
“I’m positive.” After taking a seat on the sofa, Devin leaned forward and said, “You have a dangerously low level of red and white blood cells and platelets. That means you fall into the moderately severe range for the disease.”
Kevin thought about how he’d lived life on the edge, driven to achieve prominence in his field, and how sometimes he would exchange sleep to get ahead. He’d also made more than his share of mistakes along the way. “What in the hell caused this?”
“It’s idiopathic, which means no known cause. It only happens to about three in every one million people in this country annually.”
Lucky me. “So do I just sit around and wait for it to kill me, or is there something you can do to treat this?”
“I’m an E.R. doctor, Kevin, and a relative, so I can’t treat you. I only agreed to order the lab work as a favor when you started having the nosebleeds and fatigue. But I know a good hematologist who’ll manage your care.”
Kevin’s anger began to build. Anger directed at his brother who was obviously bent on deserting him, which wasn’t exactly logical. But he didn’t have a firm grip on logic right now.
He pushed out of the chair and began to pace. “Can’t you tell me anything about what I’m facing, Dev, or did Mom and Dad waste all that money on your training?”
His brother held up his hands, palms forward. “Calm down, Kevin.”
If he had more energy, he’d put his fist through the wall. “You try remaining calm when someone just handed you a death sentence.”
“It doesn’t have to be a death sentence. You can have a bone-marrow transplant.”
After inhaling a few deep breaths, Kevin reclaimed his spot in the lounger. “What does that entail?”
“You’ll have to undergo a process to destroy all your bone marrow before the transplant. That involves roughly two weeks of chemotherapy. Post transplant, you’re looking at six months to a year of recovery time. You’ll have to limit your contact with the general public until your immune system is back to normal.”
Aside from being tired as a dog, Kevin didn’t feel all that sick. Therefore, he had no intention of letting this disease interfere with his work. “No way can I consider the transplant for at least three months. Preseason football starts in a couple of weeks and I have at least ten interviews scheduled. I have to make a living.”
“Not if you’re dead.”
His brother’s proclamation packed the punch of a right hook. “There’s no medicine I can take to stop this?”
Devin sighed. “You could have transfusions for a few months, but that’s only supportive care, not a cure. Eventually you’ll have to have the transplant in order to survive.”
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