Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 135604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I know. Wait.” I felt my forehead wrinkle as I turned back around. “Isn’t Dr. Kennedy your plastic surgeon?”
“He’s still a doctor, Tori. He went to med school.”
Oh, yeah. Right. I was sure he at least knew how to use a stethoscope.
“Well, I don’t know what to do, Mom. You can’t make Daddy go to the doctor. Not unless you drug him and get him there while he’s unconscious.”
“That might be my next move.”
“Do you want me to talk to him again?”
“Not right now. I’ve put him in a bit of a mood. He’s smoking a cigar outside and shootin’ his gun,” she said, her voice exhausted. “Maybe try tomorrow?”
“Okay.” I bit my cheek and nodded. “I’ll give him a call after work.”
“Thanks, pumpkin. I don’t know what else to do here.”
“We’ll figure it out. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
That was a lie. I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t even considering heartburn anymore. There was a strong possibility this was something else, but I wouldn’t worry my mom.
“Okay.” She sighed. “Talk soon. Let me know how it goes.”
“Okay, Mom.”
“Bye, pumpkin.”
I disconnected the call and dropped the phone onto the cushion beside me, my head tipping back and eyes closing as I struggled to keep my thoughts from drifting to worst possible scenarios and terrible worries.
I didn’t know what to do. I had a good idea how the conversation with my dad was going to go tomorrow. And I was serious. I really didn’t think he’d ever go see a doctor unless he was passed out cold and forced to go against his knowledge or will.
But he promised me. He promised if the Tums stopped working, he would take care of this. Was I just supposed to wait him out?
I felt Jamie’s hand on my forehead, brushing my overgrown bangs to the side.
“Take it your dad is still sick and not gettin’ checked out?”
I opened my eyes and looked up at him. “He’s stubborn and insisting it’s heartburn,” I said.
“Maybe it is.”
“Maybe it’s something more serious and the dangers of him not getting it checked out are only making matters worse,” I shot back. “Maybe it’s nothing. But he won’t know that unless he goes to the doctor and gets checked out. And I can’t drag his body to a vehicle and hoist him up into it when he’s knocked out and nothing but deadweight. I have zero upper body strength.” My eyes slid to Jamie’s thick, muscled shoulder. “You don’t seem to have that problem.”
Jamie was smiling softly when I looked back up into his face. “Maybe you give it another day. See how he is tomorrow night.”
“I doubt it’ll make much difference.”
“Might.”
“Slim chance.”
“Babe.”
“Mm?”
“Give it another day,” he repeated, not requesting this time but telling me that was what I needed to do, and there was something in Jamie’s voice I was hearing. Something comforting, like he knew I just needed another day, he was sure, and things would be better.
He was promising it. I didn’t understand how Jamie could do that, but I knew that’s what he was doing.
I let myself believe him. I wanted to.
Swallowing, I whispered a “’kay,” as I looked up into his face again, unobstructed by those sandy waves he had. “I really like your hair like that,” I shared.
He smiled; no teeth, just full lips stretching slow and dimples popping out.
I really liked his dimples, too. But I’d shared enough.
“That’s two,” Jamie replied, looking pleased.
My brows pulled together.
“Wearin’ you down, babe. First my cock. Now you’re diggin’ my hair. Pretty soon you’ll be admittin’ to likin’ it all. To likin’ me.”
“Never,” I returned, poker face engaged.
“It’ll happen.”
“Nope.”
“I’m wearin’ you down.”
“You’re letting our food get cold. That’s about the only thing you’re doing right now.”
Jamie threw his head back and roared with laughter, and from the angle I was sitting to him, I had full view of his neck, which was golden, had thick cords running down each side and muscles there, too, plus a predominant Adam’s apple, which was moving with his enjoyment.
I really liked his neck. Maybe more than his dimples.
He had a really good laugh, too.
When Jamie was finished finding what I said funny, he looked down at me again. He was grinning. Bright white teeth. Dimples. The whole shebang.
Nope. I liked his laugh and his neck, but his dimples were holding top rank.
“Better quit listenin’ to you list what all you like about me, then,” he said, humor still heavy in his voice. “Don’t know how good this food will be heated up twice.” He rounded the couch and the coffee table, looking to reclaim his seat.
“No threat there,” I replied, sounding sassy as I reached for my spring roll. “I just named the only other thing I like about you.”
Jamie didn’t sit at the far end of the couch this time, where he typically sat. No, he picked up my phone and placed it on the coffee table, then he sat on the cushion next to me, turning his head and looking over after he settled.