Page 69 of Waiting For A Girl Like You
As she snuggled closer, he tried to arrange them so his injured arm wouldn’t be in the way, but failed, wincing in pain when he moved. “I did not need this right now.”
“And I didn’t need the heart attack.”
“I’m sorry.” He shifted so they could share one pillow and lay nose to nose. “When I saw Madison, reasoning went right the hell out of my head.”
Jamison’s heart lurched. “They still haven’t found them. Rowan’s been up all night digging into Parker.”
“Has he discoveredanything?”
“Nothing.”
The guilt each of them felt—especially her father—hung heavy through the house this morning. Parker Monroe, Claudia Fairweather's boyfriend for the last three years, was a member of Zanmi, and none of them had ever picked up on it. If they were honest, none of them had cared enough to pay attention.
Claudia and Evie had a friendly relationship, their burned bridge mending in the aftermath of Toby. Samuel dealt with Damon several times a month, but Jamison doubted the two cousins shared intimate details about their lives. Her dad never said much more than a hello to any of his extended family, except when discussing a deal or venture that Fairweather Holdings was pursuing.
And she was just as much to blame. She worked with Emily one-on-one for at least a few months out of the year, yet neither ever pushed beyond those easy surface-level conversations reserved for the workspace.
They didn’tknowthat side of the family. Once upon a time, Trevor and her father had kept things cordial, going through the motions of what a family was supposed to act like in public. Sometimes, they would even invite each other to private family events, but more often than not, the other brother would decline the offer unless there was no other way to avoid it.
Mainly because Trevor’s wife made things awkward.
A vicious beast, Heather Fairweather held high expectations in life. She wanted to rule everything and everyone, and God forbid her husband or her children didn’t assist in those plans for world domination. On the rare occasion she interacted with Heather, even Jamison struggled with keeping up with the woman’s carefully concealed insults.
“My dad talked to Trevor last night.” Coasting her fingertips across his brow, she smoothed his hair back to see his eyes. “It turns out he and Heather have never met Parker’s family. They only know what Claudia or Parker have told them.”
She’d caught snippets of the conversation. There had definitely been panic in her uncle’s voice. The heartbreaking kind any father would display in this type of situation.
But then Heather took over the conversation.
“Heather basically hung up on him.”
Untangling himself from her hold, Liam rolled to his back with a groan, wincing again when he shifted his arm. “Heather makes our side of the family look sane.”
Our side of the family.
She grinned. “You can’t marry me with a hurt arm.”
“The hell I can’t.” His head snapped to the side, and she noticed how well-rested he looked. Last night was probably the longest he’d slept in weeks. “One week, Jamison. You get one week.”
“Actually, it’s six days now.” Snuggling at his side, she rested her chin on his chest. “And you’re sure you want to do this with all the crazy?”
“Crazy or not, you are marrying me. I don’t care if Michael Sinclair himself is in attendance.” He lifted his head to kiss her, snaking his good arm around her waist to haul them closer. “And I’m sorry about the boat.”
“You owe me a few more rounds.” She kissed him again. “But first, you need to have those stitches looked at. Holly said you have to go get them checked out today.”
“I need to send her some flowers or something, although the entire point of convincing her to patch me up on the side of the road was so I could keep working. What the hell did she give me?”
“Ketamine?” She ran her hand down his chest and abs. “I think Rowan called it Special-K?”
“Holy hell,” he mumbled. “Maybe I’m not going to send her flowers after all.”
Rowan snored softly in the corner chair. They had moved two recliners back into the media room so he or Liam could catch cat naps, and that was exactly what the overly exhausted man was doing.
“He’s working himself to death.” Annabeth sat at one of the folding tables, her gaze locked onto the laptop screen. She’d been searching for information on Parker alongside Rowan, determined to be helpful. “Stubborn man.”
“You haven’t slept either,” Jamison pointed out, scrolling through her laptop search results. This felt like they were trying to find a needle ina haystack. They weren’t stupid. They knew a simple internet search wouldn’t yield anything of value, but had to give it their best shot. “Or Izzy. I’m surprised she was coherent enough to drive Liam to get his stitches looked at.”
And she was surprised Liam wouldn’t let her go with them.
