Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
And all I can do is sit here, wishing I could take all her stress away. Twelve hours ago, we didn’t have a single problem in the world. My only goals were memorizing the taste of her skin and trying to tease another orgasm out of her.
It was intense. And so is this, in its own weird way. I know what it’s like to feel helpless while your family suffers. I’ve had years of training.
The best I can do is massage her shoulders, bring her drinks from the vending machine, and try to distract her.
And Darcy’s father is damn lucky to have a daughter like her. I’m certain he doesn’t appreciate it.
After we’ve been there an hour, my attention is snagged by a text from DeLuca.
DeLuca: Hey, man! Nice beach pic with Darcy. Looks like someone finally scored in the off-season. I need a detailed play-by-play.
Reading it, I flinch. Darcy was right about my teammates and their assumptions.
Tremaine: Dude, it’s just a picture of some marshmallows at a bonfire. But I shouldn’t have posted that pic if it’s going to make people gossip. Darcy doesn’t deserve that.
DeLuca: I just want you to have fun, man. Your life is 90% hockey and 10% helping Larkin when he gets scammed on the internet.
Tremaine: Larkin got scammed???
DeLuca: He clicked on one of those EZPass texts. Dude doesn’t even have a car! Now his bank account is frozen.
Fuck.
Tremaine: I know who to call at the bank. If he’s freaking out, have him text me.
DeLuca: Will do!
Shoving my phone into my pocket, I wave Darcy over and convince her to sit next to me.
“What is taking so long?” she frets.
“Tests take time,” I say, not knowing if that’s even true.
She squeezes my hand.
At long last, a doctor appears before us in green scrubs. “Mrs. Randolph?”
Kandi jumps to her feet. “Yes? How is he?”
“I’m Dr. Abadi. Your husband is doing well. We’ve run some tests, and the good news is this wasn’t a heart attack.”
Darcy moves to stand beside her stepmother. “What was it then?”
“An episode of atrial fibrillation—an irregular heartbeat—which caused the chest pain and light-headedness. His EKG shows the rhythm has already normalized, and his blood work looks good. No signs of heart damage.”
I watch the tension drain from Darcy’s shoulders. She reaches for Kandi’s hand reflexively, and her stepmother grips it tightly.
“So what happens now?” I ask.
Dr. Abadi glances at me, then back to Kandi. “We’d like to adjust his medication. The current dosage doesn’t seem to be managing his condition as effectively as we’d like. But there’s no need to keep him overnight. He can go home with a prescription and follow up with his cardiologist next week.”
“Can we see him?” Darcy asks.
“Absolutely. In fact, you can take him home in a few minutes. He’s getting dressed now, and a nurse is reviewing his new medication schedule.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Kandi says, her voice wobbling slightly.
As the doctor leaves, Darcy turns to me. “That’s so much less horrible than I’d been thinking.”
“See? It’s going to be okay,” I say, placing a gentle hand on her lower back.
“It is. For now.” She gives me a sad smile. “Thanks for driving us here. I owe you one.”
“I’ll collect later,” I tell her with a wink that makes her cheeks flush.
She calls Theo with the update. And twenty minutes later, Harvey himself walks out. His color has improved dramatically, though he still looks exhausted and slightly embarrassed. He hugs his wife and daughter.
“Eric,” he says gruffly. “Thanks for the chauffeur service.”
“Anytime, sir.” I stand and offer my hand, which he shakes firmly.
“They’re putting me on a leash,” he grumbles, patting his shirt pocket where I assume his new prescription is stashed. “No alcohol at my own son’s wedding.”
“Dad,” Darcy says with a warning tone, “it’s a small price to pay.”
He grumbles his agreement, but it seems halfhearted. And I feel a spike of unhelpful rage. Just do what you’re supposed to, for fuck’s sake.
Maybe I’m used to feeling helpless while the people around me make bad decisions. But you don’t get to do that shit to Darcy. If I see this man with a glass of champagne tonight, we’re going to have words.
Chapter 28
More Flips than a Pancake Breakfast
Darcy
We make it back to the hotel in the early afternoon, and my father promises not to do a thing before the rehearsal dinner apart from taking a nap. “Don’t worry about me, pumpkin,” he says. “Go have fun.”
“Will do, Dad,” I say.
Eric gives me the side-eye, which probably means that it came out sounding snarkier than I intended. But I’m physically and emotionally exhausted, and I need a moment to collect myself.
“How about this,” Eric says, eyeing me from head to toe and looking strangely concerned. “I need to take a quick five-mile run, and then we’ll hang out on the beach. Maybe you’d feel better if you found a snack. Breakfast was a while ago.”