The gurney moves. “Hang on, baby.” Bobby takes my hand and holds it tightly. His hand is so warm. He squeezes. I squeeze back. “Keep your promise, Ever. Live for me.”
“Always.”
40
BOBBY
It’s been two weeks since Ever left the hospital. She was medevacked to Alexandria General Hospital and treated like the trauma patient she was.
If given the choice, I would’ve taken her place in a heartbeat. But my girl was strong. She recovered from her internal bleeding with the help of surgery, her broken rib was left to heal, and the large goose egg from Corey jamming the butt of his rifle to the side of her head eventually became a faded bruise.
Corey was taken into custody. He’s awaiting trial for Carlos’s murder, kidnapping charges, and mine and Ever’s attempted murders.
Me and Branson had the talk, and through a shit ton of yelling and tears, we shared the blame for not being better communicators of our feelings and vowed to find a way to reconnect. It’s a step in the right direction.
I drum my fingers on the steering column and hum to a country song blaring from my playlist. I’m on my way to surprise Ever. Later, when she gets off her shift, I have another surprise for her.
I smile. She confessed she likes my surprise visits, and whether I’ll be driving the motorcycle or the truck. The truck . . . I jam my fingers in my hair. My truck was totaled. I bought another, and with Ever’s input through video chat, I picked out an SUV for when we get the puppies she’s been wanting. Tony and Cameron finished the house ahead of schedule.
Of course they did. They like Ever and want to give her what she wants—puppies. Especially when she told them they’ll be the puppies’ godfathers.
I shake my head, my face hurting from all the smiling I’ve been doing lately. That woman of mine can charm a fucking rock. I pull into Sweet Creations’ parking lot.
Two weeks is too long not to hold my woman in my arms. I was at her bedside when she woke up first with confusion, then realization, before she turned away from me. “I need space, Bobby,” she said in this soft voice that gutted me.
“Why?” I asked. “I want to be with you. Hold you. You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’m not. I’m sleeping at the rental. Gage will be there. He can help me.”
“Bullshit. I’m your man. I protect you.”
“Why am I here, Bobby?” Weakly, she moved her hand from her head and pointed at her feet in those damn ugly nonslip socks patients wear. “You hurt me.”
Not true. It was Corey who rammed us with a stolen tow truck, making Ever internally bleed. But the more I thought about it, watching her with my hands tented in front of my mouth, I knew she was right.
I did hurt her, and I needed to honor her request. She asked for two weeks, and I agreed. Now here I am, ready to hold and kiss her, like we’ve been separated for a lifetime. Video chats are not a substitute for the real thing—her warm mouth on mine, her sighs and moans of contentment and pleasure, the feel of her fingers in my hair, and her massaging my scalp.
I back the new blacked-out SUV into a spot in front of a pizza place that’s separated from Sweet Creations by a small side street. Ever said that’s where the delivery truck goes, and she meets them at the back door. First thing out of my mouth was, “There better be a security camera that’s monitored twenty-four seven.”
Ever reassured me there was. Thank fuck. It saved me from having harsh words with her boss. Smiling, excited to see her, I bring up my calendar. Ever’s populated it with her shifts for the next two weeks, and when her breaks are.
Routine is important to her, but so are spontaneity and surprises. It keeps her on her toes. That’s what I told Ever on her last call. To leave room in our routine life for the little things that can’t and shouldn’t be scheduled or planned, like a kiss or making love.
I glance at the clock. There are two minutes left before her break starts. I open the car. Movement across from me catches my attention. There’s an old red-and-white truck parked across the way, in view of Sweet Creations’ front door. I recognize the old beater. It’s Branson’s truck. I also recognize the two inside exchanging a heated kiss.
Ever and Braxton. His fingers are in her hair. Her face is angled to him, away from my searing glare that could burn a hole in the windshield and slice heat on their faces.
Fuck. Fuck.
No wonder she wanted time to herself.
Braxton’s out of prison. He was released a week ago, according to Gwen. Ever’s been waiting for him.
She used me.
Ever lied.
She fucking cheated on me with my brother.
