“My husband is prowling around like a caged animal every waking minute. He’s waiting on me hand and foot, working full-time, dealing with crazy Marco—who’s driving him nuts, and living in a bungalow with a roommate. Not one complaint. I wouldn’t blame him if he bailed on me.”
Her eyebrows crinkle, and she shoots me a side-eyed glare.
“Seriously. He should go home for a while. He needs to get back to his life. See his family, settle things at work, do his normal routine for a bit without worrying about me.”
“You want to see an animal, let him hear you say that.”
“You know I’m right.”
“What I know is you’re being stubborn and he’s being a saint.”
“He went for a five-mile run this morning, came back, showered, and was working at six a.m.”
“He’s an overachiever, so what?”
“Know what I did today? Got my boot, put weight on my foot for all of three minutes, and then did turnout and flexing with motion measurements for an hour with a therapist.”
“You also did upper body Pilates in the living room, made your own breakfast, took your own shower, and came to work to help me.”
“You forgot to mention kicking ass in rehab.” The deep voice has me twisting so fast, my body wobbles in the chair.
Evin’s propped on a shoulder against the conference room door, arms and legs crossed. My heart skips a beat at his appearance. Since the meeting with Marco two weeks ago, I’ve gotten used to the casual Evin. But today he had a virtual staff meeting. He’s unbuttoned the first two buttons on his neck and rolled his sleeves, but otherwise, he’s all business. My gaze travels slowly back up his body and catches the intensity in his stare. I know the answer but ask anyway. “How long have you been here?”
“Long enough.”
“You risked your life coming through the front in this office of women. There’s going to be a riot. I bet Kay is on social media right now checking if Chris Hemsworth is in Vegas,” Ryanne jokes.
His eyes fly to her and soften as the tip of his lip curls to the side. “The only woman I saw was the grandmother type at reception who pointed me this way.”
“Bess, she’s great.” Ryanne bends to give me a half-hug. “Good luck at the doctor. Thanks for your help. I’ll see you tonight. Try not to be so negative on yourself.”
She leaves, patting Evin’s shoulder on her way past.
I reach for my crutches, scooting forward on the chair.
“Stop,” he orders, stalking to me and crouching between my legs. His hand sifts through my hair before framing my face gently. “I don’t need to get back to family, work, or any fucking routine. If going to Charleston makes you uncomfortable, we’ll stay.”
“I don’t want you to miss out on anything.”
“What in the world am I missing?”
“Your life.”
“You are my life.”
My heart sinks low in my chest and a lump forms in my throat. “I’m scared. It’s too much change at once.”
“Then we stay. Every day, you’re getting stronger, even if you can’t see it.”
“I have a long way to go.”
“You’ll get there.”
“You’re missing a lot at home. Maya’s crushed you weren’t there for her birthday. Annie’s going out of her way to take care of your place. Tessa is flying solo and needs her boss.”
“None of that is true.”
I lean into his touch, drawing in a deep breath for courage. “All of your attention is on me. Things may suffer and feelings get hurt. What if they grow to resent me?”
His body stiffens, eyes heating and jaw locking hard. “Do not let the Bindels invade your head.”
The tension hangs thick in the air, and I deflate into him. “I’m sorry. You don’t need to deal with my unpredictable moods.”
“Baby, don’t be sorry.”
“I don’t deserve you.” I nuzzle my face into his neck, inhaling deep and letting his scent fill me. In less than a second, my mood shifts, and the dark and heavy passes. The cramp in my lower abdomen reminds me of why I’m mercurial. “Evin, something I should tell you. The suppressant they gave me in the hospital and then getting back on my pills. This week is…” Heat creeps up my neck. “I’m hormonal. Which means—”
He pulls back, his lips twitching. “I know what hormonal means, baby. Why are you embarrassed?”
“It’s not exactly something men like to talk about.”
“I grew up with a mom and dramatic sister. Also been a man long enough to pick up on it.”
“But we’ve never actually been around each other when…”
“Tampons, heating pads, ibuprofen, chocolate, bubble baths, pizza, and champagne—you let me know what you want.”
“There go any plans for me to jump you tonight. Can I be any less sexy?”
His face changes and he brushes his lips across mine, cupping the back of my head to hold me to him. “There’s nothing in this world that would make you anything but gorgeous to me.”
“It’s a reminder—”
He cuts me off with a hard mouth kiss, caressing the back of my scalp, before speaking against my lips. “Do not go there.”
A chill runs through my veins at his guttural tone. The fury brews inside of him. I decide to handle this with delicacy. “Okay, sweetie. Lucky for you, the house is stocked with supplies. I’ll let you continue to wait on me, and if Dr. Rexwell approves, I’d love champagne tonight.”
He exhales loudly, the heat of his breath coating my lips. “He’ll approve. You won’t be a fall hazard if I carry you everywhere.”
His phone sounds with the chime I set up for Marco.
When Evin came home from his visit and shared all that transpired between the men, my first instinct was to keep him removed from my life. Something in the way Evin spoke gave me pause. He didn’t hide his antipathy of the man and family that let me go so effortlessly, but he confessed to seeing the torture in Marco.
Little did Marco know, that show of emotion bought him a smidgen of sympathy. Having lived over a decade with a family in tatters, Evin recognized a broken man plagued with regret.
I was unconvinced of Marco’s motives, all of his confessions muddling in my brain. Like always, Evin was a step ahead and had a file for us to review. The endowments went a long way at UNC, and the pledge to Julliard was listed under the Malone name after my grandparents. Eight years of Isaac’s donations were recorded to charities that all meant something to me.
All those calls and the small talk after the incident with Isaac, that was my dad, not Marco, actually listening. I softened, approving updates on my health.
Marco started slow, seemingly appreciative of any morsel of news. Now, we hear his phone chime multiple times a day.
I pluck the phone out of Evin’s shirt pocket and scan the text.
Good luck at the appointment.
The brief message has an attachment. I don’t have to open it to know what it is.
“Another story for the miraculous Dr. Rexwell.” I flash the screen to Evin.
“One good thing about that asshole is he saves me the research.”