Page 6 of Six Month Wife
I hold up a hand.
“Swear on Citrine’s life, I don’t know him. There is something familiar, but I can't figure it out. He's probably a customer, or something. I think the sun from earlier and the stress of today and all of this,” I wave my hand around the room and her.
“Oh, you’re going to put this on me?”
"It's all getting to me. It's nothing."
She smirks. “But you want to know him, don't you?”
I groan. “I can't with you right now. Let's get out of here.”
Jenna nudges me with her elbow, grinning. “You two have chemistry. Just saying.”
“Chemistry?” I scoff, trying to ignore the flutter in my stomach. “That was pure friction.”
“Friction’s a kind of chemistry,” she mutters, smug as hell.
I roll my eyes and grab her discharge papers as the nurse places them on the counter, giving me an out.
I get her into the car, already shifting back into business mode. I’ve got bigger things to focus on, like Citrine, money, and survival. There’s no time for distractions.
Even if they come with crystal blue eyes and make hospital scrubs look like high fashion.
But as I pull out of the hospital, my gaze flicks up to the rearview. I don’t know why I’m still thinking about him. It was one conversation. One look.
And yet, something about him still lingers. It’s uninvited, unwelcome, and totally under my skin.
2
Parker
I’ve movedevery year for the past ten, but this one feels different. More important, maybe. Bigger.
It’s the closest I’ve come to settling down in my adult life.
The condo echoes. No rugs, no furniture, just a coffee table, a wrapped mattress against the wall, and a vague sense that everything’s about to shift.
Hopefully not another box. My back’s already shot.
“You know most people hire movers for this kind of thing, right?” Kip, one of the rockstar residents at Good Shepard, says. He kicks the condo door closed with his heel and balances a box labeledKITCHEN MAYBE?
I grunt and drop the two boxes I’m carrying on the counter. “Well, I have free help from a strapping young resident, why would I hire?”
“Ah. Shameless exploitation. I see you.”
“Hey, you offered.”
“You’re right. I have no one to blame but myself.”
“I’m not hauling everything at once,” I say. “Figured I’d chip away, a few boxes at a time. Appreciate youoffering to follow when you saw me trying to cram that box into the back of a 4Runner.”
Kip snorts. “You looked like a guy one hinge away from a breakdown in the parking deck. I figured at least one box might survive better in my backseat.”
Kip eyes the empty living room. “This place is giving serious serial killer vibes. Anything I should know?”
“Only closed two days ago,” I say. “Still have the rental through the end of the month, so I’m taking my time to get it livable. Patience, Grasshopper. Geesh. Kids these days.”
He glances around again. “Didn’t peg you for a three-bedroom guy.”
