Page 121 of Mended Hearts

Pulling into the parking lot now, and headed for departures. Email received, just checked in. Thank you big brother.

Paxton

Grabbing coffees. Double or quad?

Leighton

I’m okay, thank you though.

Paxton

Who the fuck am I talking to right now? Rhyett?

Leighton

Long day. Probably will buy a neck pillow and sleep.

Paxton

You’re freaking me out.

Leighton

Seems to be a theme today.

Paxton

…

I slippedmy phone into my bag as the car pulled to the curb, thanked my driver, and bolted before he could get around to open the door. Eye contact was ahardno. One look of sympathy, and I’d melt into a useless puddle of emotional goo—and goo couldn’t sprint through TSA.

And sprinting was the only thing on today’s agenda.

Blessedly, the pre-check line was short: a middle-aged Black couple whispering sweet nothings to each other, and a thirty-something corporate type in a suit that looked like it came with a boarding pass for the Oliver Hart trauma express. I ignored the once-over he gave me as I stepped in behind him.

Sorry, Bucko. Currently carrying more baggage than you checked downstairs.

Was dropping a stupid amount of money to fly out eighteen hours earlier impulsive?

Probably.

But was it more impulsive than marrying a man I’d technically only agreed to date last week?

Absolutely fucking not.

By the time I reached the gate where Paxton stood waiting, the dam had cracked. Tears had been threatening since Ollie started unraveling in the Bentley, and now they spilled freely. I didn’t even try to stop them. Pax dropped what was presumably a very expensive duffle bag off his shoulder and opened his arms for me.

“Hey, kiddo. What the hell is going on?”

All I could do was cry into his chest.

He didn’t press. He just wrapped me tighter, resting his chin on top of my head like a security blanket with biceps.

“You know I’ll kill him.”

“You will not,” I sniffled, though I appreciated the sentiment. Yeah, he was driving me absolutely insane. But Ollie was mine. I just needed time to figure out what thatmeant.

“You’re right,” Pax sighed. “I’ll hire out the dirty work. My hands are far too valuable to risk in a physical altercation. But the sentiment stands.”

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