Page 51 of In Full Bloom

I tilt my head and rest it against hers, hesitantly at first, but when she exhales a soft sigh and nestles even closer, I relax.

“Thank you, Katie,” I whisper.

Then, we wait.

23

KATIE

I don’t knowhow long we sit side by side, resting our heads together, on the hard plastic chairs of the waiting room. One of my hands is resting over the top of Dallas’s on his injured arm, the other one has slipped inside the sleeve of his shirt and is tucked against the soft skin of the inside of his bicep.

Usually this kind of wait time would frustrate me, but Dallas’s presence has me calm and grounded. I’m not even bouncing my foot in agitation because I don’t want to leave this moment.

Dallas readjusts his grip on my shirt, still wrapped around his injury, and lets out a hiss. The sound instantly has me on alert.

As much as I’m enjoying just sitting here with him, the man is injured and bleeding.

I push to my feet, reluctantly letting my fingers slide free of their position on hisarm.

“Where are you going?” Dallas asks, his voice low and soft, just a question, not a demand.

“To find out how long it’ll be,” I say, peering down at him to check how he’s doing. He’s still far too pale for my liking.

He reaches up with his uninjured arm and wraps his fingers softly around my wrist, holding me in place. “Don’t, it takes as long as it takes. It’s not their fault it’s slow.” His fingers slide down and twist with mine.

I stare down at him. My heart is hammering in my chest and I don’t understand why. We’ve been more intimate than this.

“Stay with me,” Dallas whispers and I feel like the words mean more than just sitting down now.

My breath catches in my throat. I have no idea what to say, but I move to sit down again.

“Dean McLeod,” a woman’s voice calls from across the room.

Instead of me sitting, Dallas now stands. He sways a little and I reach out to steady him.

It’s alarming.

How much blood can a person lose? He hasn’t been bleeding that much since I got to him. My shirt’s sacrifice has been worth it to stop the bleeding. Maybe it’s the pain that’s making him unsteady on his feet.

“You alright there?” The woman’s voice asks, from right behind us. The relief of knowing there’s someone else here to take over is immense.

Dallas looks past me at the nurse, but his gaze immediately shoots to mine, his eyes wide.

I spin around, wanting to know what caused his reaction.

“Katie?” The nurse takes in my appearance: dirty jeans and sports bra, Dallas’s blood somehow streaked along my arm.

My chest tightens and my eyes immediately start to burn.

Clarissa Sheridan is standing in front of me.

Toby and Max’s mother.

The woman who could have been my mother-in-law.

The last time I saw her was when I came home for Toby’s funeral, but those few days were a blur of chaos, grief and heartbreak.

I don’t remember much of them, except that I barely spoke to anyone.

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