Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Go away.
It was a sucker punch to the gut, and Wyatt had to work to keep his breathing even. He was still staring at his brother’s body in disbelief when Younger backed him out of the room.
The chair had barely come to a stop in the hall when Younger took off his surgical mask and squatted beside Wyatt’s chair, laying his hand on his arm. “He’s been like that with everybody, Wyatt. Except Aunt Ellen, and God love her willingness, but she needs her rest and she can’t be here twenty-four-seven. Give him time.”
Wyatt wanted to believe him, but somehow Noah’s words had felt specific. Personal. He didn’t know how to cope with that.
He glanced over at Fiona and she was beside him in a heartbeat, letting him lean his forehead on her hip. “Let’s get him back to his room,” she said in a no-nonsense voice that demanded obedience. “Wyatt needs to rest now.”
He needed a lot of things.
They said you were lucky to be alive. Damn lucky.
Sure. He was feeling lucky.
Chapter Three
Thoreau
“I can’t, Thoreau. Sorry. Too tired.”
He chuckled at the woman he was undressing as he guided her to the bed, forcing himself to ignore all the skin being revealed. “This isn’t a seduction, Fi. I’m under strict orders to get you in bed to sleep for eight hours with no interruptions. I’m not even peeking.”
“Likely story.”
Her eyes weren’t open as she spoke, but he could see the shadows beneath them. He’d thought she looked exhausted when he picked her up from the airport nearly a week ago, but after days at Wyatt Finn’s bedside, the situation had gotten worse.
She hadn’t let her patient see it, of course. For him she’d put on makeup and smiles and lit up his hospital room with her special brand of sunshine. But right now, it looked like a strong wind could knock her over.
Thoreau had had her favorite three-bean soup waiting when she got back from the hospital, and when she’d laid her head down beside the half-eaten bowl, he’d carried her into her room.
Even more telling, she’d let him.
“What was I saying?” she murmured, her lashes lifting as he helped her step out of her sandals. “About Wyatt.”
“He’s being released into the wild tomorrow,” Thoreau reminded her quietly. “And everyone is still arguing about who is going to take him in while he’s recuperating.”
“That’s right. So far Seamus and Jen are in the lead. Biggest houses. Indoor pool,” she listed through an adorable yawn as her skirt dropped to the floor and she sat down in her underwear. “Pools are nice.”
She’d also mentioned that no one had talked to Wyatt about it yet, which pissed Thoreau off slightly on the man’s behalf. No doubt the Finn brothers were worried he’d resent being kicked out of his own room in the townhouse so that a long-term care nurse could take care of his brother. Especially since, from what he’d heard, Noah was still not talking when he came by to visit.
Wyatt had put his life on the line to save his brother, and Thoreau respected the hell out of that. He’d like to think he’d do the same for one of his, but he’d never been in that situation before. Never had to make a life-or-death decision under that kind of pressure.
Wyatt might not believe it, but Thoreau had been worried about him, too. He’d seen the news and gotten the group texts like everyone else. He checked in with Fiona every day.
The video feed of the fire would give him nightmares for weeks to come, but Wyatt and his brother had been in it. They were both suffering for it, and their entire family was vying for the chance to help in a situation that made them all feel helpless. Noah’s in particular, because it was obvious the man would be dealing with the repercussions for years. Maybe the rest of his life.
But they were both alive. Wyatt was alive. As far as Thoreau was concerned, that was a win.
“Where do you think he should go?” he asked as he slid his hand beneath her tank top and unhooked the front clasp of her bra.
She shivered as he removed it, and the shadow of her hardening nipples through the fabric taunted him. Not now. “Fiona?”
“It doesn’t matter where we go. As long as he gets better.” She pressed her forehead against his shoulder as he caressed her arms. “That feels so good, Thoreau. You have no idea.”
Where we go. That was what he thought she’d say. He kissed her hair, smelling the lavender-and-cedar scent she favored and feeling his body respond. Worst timing ever, but he couldn’t help his reaction. He’d never been able to when it came to her.
Neither could Wyatt.
“Does that mean you’ll be in town for a while longer?” He forced himself to keep his tone casual. As if his future weren’t riding on her answer. “You never told me when you needed to get back to the school.”