Page 112 of From Air

I sit on the end and lie back with my head on her legs. She fists my shirt in her hand and pulls it up my torso, then traces her finger over my tattoo.

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

Her finger pauses. “You wanted the tattoo?”

Blowing a long breath out of my nose, I close my eyes without answering her.

“Am I yours?” she murmurs.

It’s unfair of her to ask me that on her birthday with my head in her lap and her soft hand stroking my skin. “You’re mine.”

She brings my hand to the back of her neck. “Are you mine?”

The wall I built many years ago begins to crack. There’s another man out there, probably many men, who would love her until the day they die, who would give her the life she wants.

Marriage.

Babies.

Security.

Home by five.

Help with dinner dishes.

Men who would sure as fuck know and remember her birthday.

She should want those men.

Jamie traces the outline of my lips with the pads of her fingers. “If you want to wait and see how my nose heals before you answer, I understand.”

God, I fucking love her.

I kiss her palm and wrist. “I’m yours.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

JAYMES

Melissa’s online research confirms everything Dwight told me. He has a daughter named Barbara Keane and a sister, Samantha Keane, although she can’t find an address for either. But if what I suspect is true, Samantha (my mom) is dead. Melissa also doesn’t find records of his parents’ deaths or, if they’re living, their whereabouts. Sadly, the trail runs cold quickly for Mel because details on Dwight and his family are confined to reports about the fire.

I don’t have direct patient contact on my half day back at work. Supposedly not because of my face, but who are they kidding? I look scary. I research Dwight, but his medical records don’t shed new light on his past or mine. It’s possible I’m missing something, since digging into his past records is not part of my job, and I don’t relish the idea of getting caught snooping around.

As my swelling decreases over the following days and my eye begins to look normal again, I manage to use enough makeup to soften the bruising. The only patient to notice anything is Dwight.

“Is someone abusing you?” he asks as I pick up the book at the end of his bed.California Grizzly.“I haven’t seen you in a while, and nobody would tell me why.”

“No one’s abusing me. It was an accident. I’m fine.”

“A car accident?”

I lift my gaze and take the excuse he’s offering me. “Yeah. The airbag got the best of me.”

He glowers for a moment. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried.”

“Thanks.” I step back and pull my phone out of my pocket. “Can I show you a picture of someone you might know?”

His brow tightens before he relinquishes a tiny nod.

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