“Hired. You’re hired.” Just then, Richard’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. “It’s Byron. You two keep chatting. This Georgia boy needs to talk to his peach.” He shot Josie a quick wink as he pushed away from the table, weaving through the maze of coffee drinkers and leaving her alone with a big, broody, not-at-all-her-type man who had a distinctly pained look on his face.
Well, damn. Maybe she wasn’thistype either, and didn’t that thought chafe a bit?
“So what do you plan to do n—” she started to ask, but Richard’s return interrupted her.
His whole body was rigid, and he held the phone tight to his ear. “What? When?” He listened to a staccato voice on the other end. “Okay. Okay, thank you. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” When he ended the call, the phone slipped from his fingers to clatter on the table. “Byron was in a car accident in La Crosse.”
Josie gasped. “Oh no. Is he…?”
“He’s in surgery. They took him to the Mayo Clinic by helicopter. I guess it’s the closest level-one trauma center.” Richard’s voice wavered, and he swallowed a few times before continuing. “They’re worried about a head injury, and he’s also got broken ribs and God knows what else.”
Josie placed her hand over his and squeezed. “What do you need?”
His eyes snapped to hers, suddenly focused. “I have to go. I have to get there. I have to be there when he wakes up.”
Her planning brain spun into gear. “Of course you do. Okay, you leave right now and go home to pack. Take enough for a long stay just in case. Do you want me to rent you a car?”
“It’s a six-hour drive. Might be faster for him to fly.”
Erik’s voice startled her; she’d actually forgotten he was still at the table with them.
Richard shook his head helplessly. “I can’t. I-I need to—”
“Just go,” Josie ordered. “I’ll do the research and book you whatever’s the quickest. I’ll send you details.”
Richard stood, and she stood too to pull him into a quick, hard hug.
“He’ll be okay,” she whispered.
“He’d better be.” He pulled away, wiped his eyes, and jogged from the coffee shop.
Okay. Time to figure out the best way to get Richard out of town. She woke up her phone and started pecking at the screen.
“What city’s the Mayo Clinic even in?” she muttered.
“Rochester, Minnesota.” Erik’s answer was immediate even though she hadn’t really been asking him.
“Thanks, human Google,” she said distractedly as she waited for the results to load. Too slow. Was it worth dashing back to her apartment to do this on an actual computer?
“Here.” Erik reached into his bag and produced something wonderful: a MacBook.
“Oh, bless you,” she breathed. She opened a flight search in one tab, pulled up information on the nearest car rental place in another, and zoomed in on a map showing hotels in Rochester in a third.
“Got it. Good. This can work.” Once she’d decided on the best plan, she fished her credit card out of her wallet and started entering information into the required fields.
On public Wi-Fi. On a stranger’s computer. Her fingers hesitated over the keys.
She shook her head and kept typing. Take care of Richard first, deal with any identity fraud fallout later. A few keystrokes and it was done. She switched to her phone and, in a flurry of swipes, forwarded the confirmation emails to Richard, then dialed his number.
Voicemail picked up as Erik said, “Tell him to pack layers. The rooms in Mayo can be cold.”
She nodded, then spoke into the phone. “Nonstop to Rochester leaves from O’Hare in two hours. The flight’s an hour and ten minutes. I’ll text you the info. I also emailed you information for the three hotels closest to the Mayo Clinic, but maybe you’ll want to stay with Byron tonight if they’ll let you. Let me know. Oh, and your new baker says to pack layers for the hospital. I love you.”
She hung up the phone and slowly became aware of a warmth between her shoulder blades where Erik’s massive hand rested with the lightest possible pressure. As soon as she noticed, he pulled it away.
“Mayo also has twenty-four-hour family waiting rooms.”
The gentleness of his tone surprised her, and that’s when she realized her cheeks were wet with tears. “Oh wow,” she said shakily, dabbing at her eyes with the cuff of her fleece, the coffeehouse chatter rushing back to flood her senses now that she was out of hyperfocus mode. “I didn’t mean to…” She blew out a breath and met his bright blue gaze. “Thanks for staying.”
