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Muriel smirks at him.
Bruce looks at Harley. “I’m going to start closing the entire place at noon.”
Harley laughs. “One, we would be broke. Two, you would be bored out of your mind.”
I look at Sutton, and we exchange a grin.
My plan to distract them from line dancing in the damned waiting room totally worked.
Just then, a nurse comes through the big double swinging doors leading from the back area of the emergency department. She’s pushing a wheelchair. In which Brewser is seated.
He grins at all of us.
We rush him. Of course.
He’s laughing, and his eyes are a little wet with tears by the time everyone has had a chance to hug him and tell him they’re so happy to see him.
Sutton and I hang back, waiting to be the last.
“You came,” he says.
“Of course,” we say at the same time.
“Before you tell me that I shouldn’t have been dancing on the patio—”
“I’m not going to tell you that,” I tell him.
“You just need to do it with adaptations,” Sutton says.
Brewser nods. “I think I’m going to have to be doing a few more things with adaptations.”
I swallow hard. “We’ll make it happen. Whatever you need.”
Brewser gives me an affectionate smile. Then he looks at Sutton. “Would you believe I did it to get more casseroles?”
She laughs. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“Sutton could bring you some,” Beckett says. “Hers are probably even better than the ones you’ve been eating.”
A noticeable, uncomfortable silence falls.
Beckett looks around. “I’m serious. She’s a great cook. I know you like the stalker’s food but Sutton’s stuff is really good.”
“Yes, of course,” Brewser says. “I’d love that. That’s probably easier than depending on Lawson’s admirer.”
Fuck. It’s right here—the perfect chance to tell Beckett what’s been going on.
Is there a better way? A better time? Maybe.
But between not being able to truly comfort Sutton and now Brewser lying for us, it’s just too much.
Brewser looks at Lawson. “You’re the one she’s crazy about, but—”
“I’m in love with Lawson.”
Everyone goes completely silent.
And we all turn to Sutton.
