Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“Well, we’ll miss you.”
“I’m sure it’ll be amazing, sweetheart. I know how hard you work.” He leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of her head. “I’ll see you later.” He looks at me. “Good to meet you.” And he walks away.
“That was my uncle Brooks.”
“I’ve talked to him on the phone before when one of my patients presented to the ER. Good to put a face to the name.”
“He’s the best.”
I smile at her. “I’m confident you’d say that about all of your uncles.”
She shrugs. “They’re all the best.”
“I don’t know what I would do with such a big family. I’m so used to it just being my parents and me.”
“It’s all I’ve ever known. I can tell you that there is no shortage of help, or laughs, or mischief when we’re all together. If someone needs a sitter or food dropped off, if everyone in the house is sick, or whatever, there’s an army of us ready to pitch in at any time.”
“Sounds like chaos, but I can’t say I’d hate it.”
“Isla is an only child, and she swears she’s having at least two kids because she was lonely growing up.”
“It wasn’t so bad. I had—” I freeze.
“Josh,” she whispers.
“Yeah.”
Reaching across the table, she places her hand over mine. “What they did was wrong, Oliver. I’m sorry.”
“Nothing for you to be sorry for.”
“I’m sorry they hurt you. I’m sorry you’re still living with the pain they caused.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
I turn my hand over, and she automatically laces her fingers with mine. Right here in the lobby of our place of employment. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Maybe you should. Pushing the hard stuff away doesn’t help you get past it.”
“I thought I was the doctor?” I joke, trying to lighten the heaviness that has suddenly overtaken our conversation.
“Eat your dinner, wise guy.” She winks and gives me a silly smile before diving back into her own dinner.
We finish quickly, with no more interruptions. After tossing our trash and with her hand in mine, we head back outside to get ready for the event.
“What’s that?” Blakely asks, pointing toward my bag as I follow her into her house.
“I brought clothes to change into.”
“Oh.”
“What did you think it was?”
We step into the house and take off our coats before she answers, “An overnight bag.”
“And if it was?”
“I’d say that’s presumptuous.”
“We’ve slept together before,” I tease.
She swats at my arm, laughing. “Watch what you say, mister.”
“Who slept with who?” Isla asks from her seat on the couch. She’s holding an e-reader in her hand, and her hair is all messy on the top of her head.
“He’s messing.” Blakely gives me a warning look.
“Good to see you again, Isla,” I greet her roommate.
“You too. How was the tree lighting?”
“Meh.” Blakely shrugs. “Not nearly as fun as the one in town over the weekend, but that’s to be expected. Really it was mostly hospital staff that showed up.”
“Bummer.” Isla tosses the cover off her and picks up the empty bowl from the coffee table. “I’m exhausted. I was just waiting up to make sure you made it home. I’ll see you kids in the morning.”
“He’s not staying!” Blakely calls after her.
I lean in close, keeping my words just for her. “I could stay.”
“We have to work tomorrow.”
“So, it’s already almost nine. Almost bedtime.” I wink at her.
“Then why did you follow me home this late if it was almost your bedtime, old man?” she teases.
I drop my bag to the floor and pull her into my arms. “Because I wanted to do this.” Leaning in, I press my lips to hers. She moans. It’s a quiet sound from the back of her throat, but I still hear it. My hand presses on the small of her back, needing her closer as I allow myself to get lost in her.
I slow the kiss, knowing she said she had things to do, which is why we’re here and not at my place. “Laundry,” I say breathlessly, resting my forehead against hers.
“Right. Laundry.” She pulls away. “I should get to that.”
“What can I do to help?”
A soft laugh escapes her lips. “Nothing. I’ll be quick.”
“Where can I change?” I ask.
“You can change in my room. Come on.” She tugs on my hand, and I’m barely able to bend and pick up my bag as she pulls me down the hallway to her bedroom. She grabs a basket of laundry and nods toward the door. “I’ll be in the living room when you’re done.”
“Okay.”
She leaves, and I take the time to take in her personal space. This is all hers, not shared with a roommate. The walls are painted a soft gray, and she has gray and teal bedding. There are pictures all over a corkboard that hangs over a small desk. She’s in every single one of them, and she’s smiling widely.