Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
“Wyatt will be thrilled to see him.” We all would. Our oldest cousin was nothing like his mother.
Harri filled the cup at the water fountain while I prepped the coffees at the nearby dispenser. We then returned to the others and distributed the drinks.
I was just about to sit down when the door to the waiting room swung open behind me. I turned, hoping to see a doctor, desperate for news on Wyatt. It wasn’t a doctor, but disappointment didn’t spike through my blood. Because it was Dax.
Surprised, I could only stare as he made a beeline for me—his every step smooth, purposeful, swift. He didn’t stop until the fronts of our bodies touched. He palmed the side of my face, his striking eyes carefully drinking in my expression. And then that same hand crept around to palm the back of my head as he tucked it beneath his chin. His other arm slid up my back at a diagonal angle, sweeping me into a secure hug.
A hug.
He was hugging me.
His hold was protective. Comforting. Steadying. And my tension bled out of me even as I felt an expanding sensation in my chest.
“You’re here,” I whispered around a thick throat.
He dipped his head and placed his lips near my ear. “Of course I’m here.”
I fisted the sides of his shirt. Maybe I should have expected him to come—friends were there for friends—but I hadn’t. Nor had I expected him to curve his body around me this way.
I wasn’t sure why, but hot tears stung my eyes. I closed them, pulling in a long breath through my nose. He was as solid and unwavering as an old oak tree—exactly what I needed right now.
“Any word on Wyatt?” he asked.
“Not yet.” I pulled back enough to meet his gaze as a thought struck me. “How did you know where to find us?”
“I have my ways.” Letting his arms slip away from me—I refused to acknowledge how disappointed that made me—he fished his phone out of his pocket. “Give me a minute.” He then strode to the corner and put his cell to his ear.
Alicia looked up at me, her brow wrinkled. “Who’s he calling?”
I shrugged. “He didn’t say. Possibly his mom or dad.” Taking the seat opposite her, I put my hand to my stomach—the damn thing kept seizing and rolling. It didn’t help that I was surrounded by the not-so-nice scents of antiseptic, iodine, stale air, and bad coffee. “We were supposed to attend a celebratory dinner for his godmother’s birthday.”
Melinda’s lips parted. “You didn’t have to cancel. We could have contacted you with news once we had it.”
“I want to be here,” I stressed. “Plus, there’s no way I could sit and enjoy a meal right now. And my mind would have been on Wyatt anyway.”
Melinda’s gaze settled on Dax, who was still talking on his phone. “He didn’t attend the meal without you,” she noted.
“No, he didn’t,” I agreed with no small amount of wonder.
“I can see you’re surprised he showed up here,” she said, the smile she gifted me a little strained around the edges.
“I’m not at all surprised,” my mom claimed, fingering the butterfly pendant dangling from her gold necklace. “By nature, Dax is a man who’s there for those who need him.”
She was right, of course. I’d likely done him a disservice by being so taken off-guard by his presence. In my defense, he hadn’t given me any hint that he’d meet me here when I’d spoken to him over the phone. Maybe he’d just assumed I’d know he’d come.
My gaze jumped to the door as it opened once more. I felt my lips flatten. Again, it wasn’t a doctor. It also wasn’t someone who I enjoyed being around.
Heather stormed over to us and set her hands on her narrow hips. “So, where is he?” she asked … like she expected him to be sitting right here.
Melinda stood and pulled her daughter into an awkward hug. “With the doctors. We’re still waiting on news.” She retook her seat, exhaling a shaky breath.
Heather scanned each of our faces. “I don’t know why you’re all looking so worried. Two of my exes who swore they were having heart attacks actually had a bad case of indigestion. That’s probably all this is.” She settled her gaze on her mother. “Dad doesn’t have a weak heart.”
“I keep reminding myself of that.” Melinda twirled her wedding band. “I keep telling myself it could be nothing.”
Heather swiped Vienna’s drink from her hand and took a sip. She balked, her face scrunching up, and spit the coffee back into the cup. “Ew. That’s disgusting.”
I felt my jaw clench. The coffee could have tasted like fucking ambrosia and Heather would have done the same damn thing. Why? To fuck with my mom.
I didn’t know the full history of what had gone on between them when they were kids, but I was aware that Heather—not impressed by having a foster sister—had somewhat physically abused her back then. As adults, neither woman had any tolerance or time for the other.