“How come we don’t know who she is?” Holly’s voice isn’t raised, but it’s filled with accusation.
“I’ve been a little busy,” I hedge.
“You’re always busy.” Grace rolls her eyes and plops into the built-in pink cushion that is supposed to be a couch under the window.
Holly just tilts her head the slightest bit and narrows her eyes, and I break. “We haven’t been together long,” I admit quietly, feeling embarrassed and defensive.
“How long is long?” Holly crosses her arms over her chest.
I swallow, not wanting to lie to my sister but also not wanting to hear her shit when she knows the truth. “I was planning on having her home for dinner,” I tell her without answering the question.
Her brows rise, and I realize she isn’t going to let me off the hook that easily.
“A few weeks.” I’m intentionally vague.
“Weeks?” Grace scoffs. “There’s no way that girl could look at you like that after only being with you for a few weeks.”
“How’d she look at me?” It’s a self-serving question, but I could use a little reassurance since I haven’t seen Harlyn all day. Where could she be?
“Like you hung the fucking moon, and she thought it was about to be lights out,” Grace, ever blunt, summarizes. “Eww.” She points at me with a scowl. “You love her.” The look of disgust quickly melts, and she becomes contemplative. “Summer wedding?”
“Winter. He needs time not to piss in a tube, and I hate summer weddings. It’s too damn hot to chase my kids around,” Holly adds conversationally.
“I think that’s a little presumptuous,” I say out loud, but the thought of marrying Harlyn doesn’t sound scary. Hell, I think I even like the idea. I did just nearly die. It puts things into perspective.
“Oh crap,” Grace mutters, looking at my other sister. “Did you hear that? He didn’t deny it like his life depended on it! Do you remember how he acted when I said that about… What was her name?”
“Samantha,” Holly provides.
“We were kids!” I defend with too much enthusiasm and end up grimacing in pain.
“Relax there, bro. You were shot just a day or two ago, and you were twenty-four when you were with Samantha, not a kid.”
“It was too soon to talk about marriage,” I amend.
“Two years is too soon?” Grace smirks.
“Knock it off,” I say while closing my eyes. I am tired, but mostly, I’m tired of their inquisition.
My sisters continue to chat about my life and apparent upcoming wedding, and I eventually doze off for real.
When the doorswings open hours later, I know it isn’t a nurse. They enter like they own the place, and I guess they kind of do. Chauncey pokes his head in the door, his gaze finding mine. The wave of relief that crosses his features is obvious, but what I don’t expect is the sheen in his eyes.
“Hey.” I try to sit up a little more but end up just causing myself extra pain that I try not to show.
“Damn, Boone.” He shakes his head, looking down at the ground. “I’m so sorry, man.”
“Don’t tell me you’re taking all the credit for this.” I wave my hand over my abdomen.
“We shouldn’t have split up.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. Protocol tells us to cover the exits. We were doing our job,” I remind him.
“We should have called in backup,” he protests.
“Following a lead? Come on, if we did that on every anonymous tip, nothing would ever get done. Get in here and tell me what happened after I clocked out.” I wave him in, eager to get more details. Mickey called, of course, but she hasn’t been up here with everything going on, and she wouldn’t tell me much of anything, just kept insisting I take some time and recover. I’m also hoping Chauncey can help me get a hold of Harlyn, even though her letter made it pretty damn clear that’s the last thing she wants.
Chauncey steps all the way through the door with a fucking bouquet of flowers. “Don’t give me shit. Ana made me bring them.” He sets the vase down as soon as he can and actually steps away from theget well soonballoon bobbing near the ceiling.
