She gave him a quick, tight hug before turning to me, her beautiful face void of emotion. “Can you take care of him? Please? Stay here, enjoy the morning, take him to the park or to meet Caleb—whatever you were talking about. I’ll call when I’m there and know more about Dad’s condition. I just need to get there now.”
“No problem. You go. I’ll handle everything. I’ll bring Hunter to you as soon as possible.”
“No.” Her plea was desperate. “Don’t bring him until I know it’s okay. If things are too bad…”
“Of course, beautiful girl. Whatever you need.” Just like every other time I’d said this, I meant it. I’d do anything to make things better for her.
On instinct, Jamie wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me down for a solid, quick kiss.
My reaction was selfish, but it felt good that she’d turn to me this way. I couldn’t resist holding her tightly for that brief moment. This was exactly where she belonged—in my arms, trusting me to take care of what mattered most to her.
Hunter’s reaction was less enthusiastic. “I thought you said she was just your friend, Eric.”
“Not now, dude.” I shot him a warning look and pushed Jamie toward the door. “Call me soon.”
The moment Jamie was gone, I ignored her instructions, turning to Hunter. “Go get dressed. We’re following her to the hospital.”
No way in hell would I let her carry this burden alone. Never again.
There wasn’t much I could do, but I could be there. I could be ready when she needed someone to lean on. I could have her kid waiting when she needed him, too.
She still hadn’t figured out she wasn’t alone. Didn’t matter how many times I’d told her—it wasn’t sinking in.
So screw it.
I’d show her.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jamie
Bold, boisterous laughter roused me from the most explicit dream of my life.
God, I wanted to return to that blissful state, to finish what had begun—or let it finish me off. I wasn’t picky. But as I lay half-awake, I couldn’t recall the details. The harder I tried, the vaguer the memory became, until it was nothing more than an aching need.
Then that rich, deep baritone laugh hit me again. With each punch of Eric’s exuberance, a zing of pleasure coursed through me, reminding me of what I’d been dreaming about.
Eric. His voice must’ve infiltrated my subconscious, bringing me to the brink of ecstasy with nothing but the sound of him and my imagination.
For a moment, I contemplated finishing what the dream had started. But then I heard Hunter’s voice. My sexual frustration faded as my motherly instincts kicked in.
Hunter was here. How could I have forgotten?
I’d spent half the night pacing, waiting for his arrival, stressing over how to introduce him to the man who had me so tied in knots I momentarily forgot about my own child.
He was out there, laughing with Eric. It sounded like they were having a party for two, and I was suddenly curious about their interaction. Had Eric made the same kind of impression on my son that he had on me?
But before I could pull myself out of bed, my phone rang.
The chirpy ringtone sent a jolt of fear through me. I knew it wasn’t anyone I wanted to hear from.
My gut told me it was bad news.
When I answered on the third ring, Nurse Judy’s voice confirmed my fears. “Your dad has taken a turn for the worse. A prolonged decline is still possible, but the doctor’s assessment is the most likely scenario.”
And the prognosis was clear. He had a day, at most.
A day.
