Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
As I drove toward the hospital on Monday morning, I told myself for the millionth time that I would leave when it was time, and hopefully, once I was settled, Cy would come and see me if he had not, in the meantime, replaced me. The thing was, though, a man like him, the pick of the litter, expecting him to remain unclaimed was just plain stupid. But I could not, for the life of me, imagine a scenario where I could have him and still be me. And if I wasn’t me, the guy he loved, then what was the point? I would do anything for him, risk anything for him in a heartbeat, but having no purpose, no job, nothing to do was not a solution. Everyone needed purpose, and if I didn’t have one, what did I have to offer the man I loved?
After we parked in the garage, I led the three little boys to the information desk and asked where surgery was. We rode the elevator up five floors, found the nurses’ station, and I asked if they could page Dr. Benning.
“Do you have a family member that’s a patient here?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Are you being admitted?”
“Oh no.” I smiled at her. “Dr. Benning just left his laptop at home and asked me to run it on over here right quick.”
She was a very attractive woman, and the sudden smile she gave me made her dimples pop as she flashed me rows of perfect, white, even teeth. “I see.”
I waited.
She studied me.
“Ma’am?”
“And the boys belong to…?”
“His sister,” I answered, though it was a weird question.
“He has a sister.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She nodded. “Could you have a seat right there in those chairs, and I will page him.”
“Thank you.” I herded the kids with me.
Micah and Tristan each had a Switch, and Pip had something chunkier, with a camera built into it. He already had lots of pictures of rocks, tires, clouds, and a blurry one of me.
As we sat there, I couldn’t help but notice that the nurses’ station was beginning to draw a crowd. Lots of scrubs, lots of white coats, and even one guy in a suit.
“Uncle Cy!” Pip shrieked, leaping off the seat beside me, streaking around the chairs, and charging across the floor to him.
Cy bent and caught the little boy easily, kissing him and patting his back as chubby little arms were wrapped around his neck.
I got up, Tristan and Micah trailing me, and met him halfway.
“Sorry it took me so long to get down here,” I apologized quickly. “But the traffic in this city is no joke.”
“I am aware,” he agreed, smiling at me, his eyes warm and soft.
“Now, we know you’re busy, so we’re gonna get outta your hair,” I assured him, holding up his worn leather bag. “And for the record, I like this.”
“What’s that?” he asked, fiddling with the collar of my dress shirt under the sweater I was wearing.
“This bag. It’s nice. It reminds me of a briefcase my grandfather had when I was a little boy.”
“Well, there you go. They said it was vintage when I bought it.”
I sighed, staring at him.
He took a breath and stepped closer, his hand sliding around the back of my neck. “So, I have a fundraiser to go to tonight I completely blanked on. You want to meet me here and go with me?”
“You didn’t forget. You told me you had an event to go to while I was here.”
“No, that’s the annual Christmas party, and there are a few others as well, but this one never even made it into my calendar.”
“I see.”
“So?”
I squinted at him.
“I want you to go with me.”
“Oh, hell no, Doc. You can go stag, and I’ll wait up for ya.”
“I would prefer if you came with me.”
I grinned evilly. “Not if ya paid me.”
“Please, Web.”
The eyebrow waggle I gave him made him curse under his breath. His eyes narrowed, and I snickered. “You’re just—”
“Get home soon as you can. Me and the boys are makin’ stroganoff for dinner for their mama, and we thought for you as well.”
“Oh, that sounds so good. Save me some, all right?”
“We’ll try. Now put that boy down. We gotta go.”
“No, stay and have lunch with me.”
I scoffed. “We ain’t eatin’ no hospital food. We’re goin’ to the wharf to get us some clam chowder in sourdough bread bowls before Micah’s appointment with his shrink.”
He made a face. “Kids don’t eat clam chowder.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Yeah, I’ll bet.”
“Whatcha wanna bet?”
He smiled slowly, shaking his head. “I’m not going to bet you. Just…they won’t eat it.”
I shrugged. “Put your money where your mouth is.”
“Fine,” he grumbled, putting Pip down before he leaned in close, hand on my chest. “I have this fundraiser tonight, but when I get home, if they ate, my ass is yours. If they didn’t, yours belongs to me.”