I head back inside as they clean up. My legs ache again, but it’s duller this time. Manageable. The break definitely helped.
Thirty minutes later, Fletcher waves his crew off in the truck and trailer. He lingers behind, wiping his hands on his pants.
He waits until I’m alone, then approaches me, keeping his voice soft so only I hear.
“Come to the house when you get off, okay?” he murmurs. “If you want to, I mean. I’ll wait up.”
My pulse trips even though he doesn’t say it with heat. “Any reason?”
He shrugs. “Just thought we could watch some TV or something since we haven’t seen much of each other. Away from here, I mean.” He reaches for my hand briefly. “I’m making pot roast. You’re always welcome to have some.”
I duck my face. “Pot roast sounds amazing.”
He chuckles. “See you later, then?”
“Sure.”
He leaves with one last glance over his shoulder, as if he’s checking to see if I’m still standing. Or maybe he’s hoping to see me checking out his ass. Which… I totally am.
Damn those jeans.
10
FLETCHER
“Dad, is everything okay?”
I look up to find Georgie watching me from the end of the couch.
“Yeah, why?”
She frowns. “You just seem… stressed tonight. Like something’s wrong.”
“I’m fine.” My quick reply almost makes me laugh. Now I’m sounding like Vince. “Just a little wrung out from work, I guess.”
Georgie’s frown deepens, reminding me so much of her mother. “You sure?”
I force a smile. “I’m okay, hon. Promise.”
I can’t tell her the truth. She’d take it the wrong way—or rather therightway. Georgie would see right through me if I told her I was worried about Vince. She’d know I’m starting to care for theguy on a deeper level. And that’s a conversation I’m not ready to have.
I can barely understand it myself.
The thing is, it’s not just my concern about his MS that’s drawing me to him. Honestly, it has nothing to do with his illness and more to do with… him. His smile, his laugh. His incredible mind.Those thick thighs…I love talking to him, soaking in every tiny piece that he’s willing to give me.
Georgie relaxes. “Okay. Are we still going to the play this weekend?”
“Of course.”
Georgie reaches for the TV remote and flips to an episode ofStranger Things. It’s our favorite show right now, and it helps pass the time until she goes to bed. But as soon as she’s gone, my mind drifts right back to where it was before: Vince.
I can’t stop thinking about him.
Vince was barely holding himself together today, shifting from foot to foot like he was trying to outstep the pain. He’d seemed more tired than usual, skin flushed. But when I asked if he was okay, he’d given me his usual quick response, “I’m fine.”
The break I’d given him helped, but even before I left, I could tell he was hurting again. It’s been eating at me ever since.
Glancing at my phone, I groan when I see it’s only a little past eleven. Still over an hour until he’s home.
