Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 148(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 99(@300wpm)
He asks me a few more follow-up questions before saying, “Since you’ve been missing doses, let’s fill the two inhalers and start a round of oral steroids to get everything under control again.”
He hands me three scripts. Well, he tries to hand them to me. Greer snatches them and scowls. “I’ll take care of her.”
Cash nods. “See that you do, Greer. Evie, see me after lunch tomorrow for a follow-up. We’ll get you monitored.”
I nod and follow Greer out of the clinic. When we’re on the sidewalk, I blow out a breath. Martha dismissed me from my duties for the afternoon.
“Thanks,” I tell him and start toward my car.
“Where are you going?” He demands.
“I’m going to the apartment.” I’ll binge some carbs and sleep for an hour before the boys will be home. Hank is making the trip to Sweetgrass this afternoon. He was thrilled at the idea of getting to spend time with them.
Greer wraps a hand around my upper arm and tugs me down the sidewalk toward the old brick pharmacy. “The hell you are.”
Chapter 6
Evie
I plant my feet on the sidewalk. My bossy cowboy is so big that he could drag me anywhere he wanted. He already proved that by picking me up and carrying me into the clinic. My stomach swoops at the memory. “I’m not going to the pharmacy just yet. I’ll do it later.”
“Fuckin’ hell.” Greer runs a hand down his face. He looks even more exhausted than I am. “You’re not planning on filling the scripts.”
I jut my chin at him, refusing to give up my pride. I’ll get the emergency one tomorrow after my paycheck hits my bank account. I’ll manage the preventative inhaler next week. “I’m not stupid. Of course, I’m getting the medication.”
“Good. Glad we agree.” He tugs me back onto the sidewalk.
Inside the pharmacy, he marches up to the consultation window ahead of me. He says something in a low, urgent tone. By the time I catch up, the pharmacist is already answering the ringing phone.
He stomps back to the front of the store and grabs a cart. It’s so tiny compared to his large frame that it’s like watching an adult push a cart designed for toddlers. It’d be comical if he weren’t so angry.
My shoulders tighten with tension. Who is he to judge me? Where does he get off thinking he has that right?
Spencer was like that. Always looking down on me for making the best of bad situations, as if it were my fault that my life had gone to shit.
We don’t say a word the entire time we’re in the pharmacy as Greer loads the cart with throat lozenges and every sore throat remedy he can find. It would almost be sweet if I weren’t so irritated with him for being mad at me.
I push down the disappointment I feel at his behavior. Better to figure out what Greer is like now than after I’ve fallen for him even more. Because if I’m being truthful, I was already falling a little bit. Especially after the way he held me through the attack, speaking softly into my hair and reassuring me that he was there.
But I won’t do this again. I won’t let myself think I can be the girl that gets a happy ending.
When we’re back in the privacy of his truck, Greer passes the bags to me. He’s still barely said a word, and every line of his body is tight with tension.
“Don’t do this.” My voice thankfully doesn’t shake though it’s scratchy. “Don’t you judge me for choosing between buying food or buying medication.”
Greer scrubs a hand down his beard, the lowering sun highlighting the strands in a golden hue. “Let’s get one thing clear right now. I’m not angry that you didn’t buy an inhaler. But I’m furious to think of a world where you don’t exist.”
I blink. That was not what I expected him to say.
He continues, “Been through a lot of shit. Don’t scare easily. But today…” His voice trails off and my heart clenches as his words sink in. He was scared today. Scared of losing me.
I reach out and take his hand, our fingers intertwining. It feels so right to be touching him, like my heart is finding its home.
But I can’t afford to do this, and he needs to understand why. I need to tell him the truth so he can find someone else. “My life is…it’s really complicated right now. It’s going to be for a few more years.”
He stares down at where my finger is tracing his thumb, rubbing tiny circles over it. “I’m good with complicated.”
His touch soothes me as I explain, “I have two younger brothers. I’ve been raising them on my own since I was fifteen.”
He swears under his breath.
I continue, “My mom left me with them when they were just six and three. She often left us alone for long stretches. But after it’d been a couple of days without hearing from her, I called her. She said…said we were on our own now.”