Page 47 of One Little Kiss
“Oh yes. Not Winnie. Her life is Weston. She would never do anything to jeopardize that. Especially not with you know who pulling his parental rights crap.”
My body tenses. Instinctively, I know Winnie is fighting battles in every corner of her life, alone.
“Okay, do you know what her schedule is? Any medical issues? Changes in her diet recently?” Emory asks as she numbs the area around the cut on Winnie’s head.
“Are you a doctor?” Beth asks nervously.
“I am a doctor, but I’ll be honest, I’m a heart surgeon. These Westbrook boys are making me regret my decision, though. I think I’d be more helpful to everyone if I was a general practitioner.”
Beth wrings her hands, and I push myself up to a sitting position, taking Weston with me and placing him into my lap. She pales while watching me.
“Beth? We’re all on Winnie’s side. I just want to help her. I would appreciate anything you can do to assist Emory. From the small bit GG’s told me, I don’t want to take her to the emergency room unless we have to.”
“God, no. That could be a disaster.” Beth stresses each word. “Honestly, I’ve been telling her for weeks she’s been showing signs of exhaustion. I saw it a few times in the hospital. Doctors working too many hours, nurses pulling doubles. I’ve been so terribly worried about her, but she can’t slow down. She doesn’t have a lot of options.”
“Are you a nurse?” Emory asks as she deftly places stitches in my girl.
My heart races with worry that Winnie doesn’t even flinch.
“I was. I worked with her mom, and I retired last year.”
“Shouldn’t that wake her up? Shouldn’t she be awake? Why wouldn’t that wake her up?” I ask impatiently.
Emory uses tiny scissors to cut a black thread, then places them back in her medical bag. I watch as she leans in to listen to Winnie’s heart and lungs. Presses on her fingernails and runs her hands all over Winnie’s body, presumably searching for other injuries.
“She is awake, Colton. Sort of. She’s mumbling answers when I prompt her,” Emory explains.
“What happened to the door?” Preston grumbles.
Shit.
“I, ah …”
“Thupa.” Weston grins.
“Thanks, buddy,” I groan.
“I found Winnie in the shed, crying, and bleeding. She said H-E did it,” I spell out and roll my eyes toward Weston, hoping they get the hint without upsetting him again. “I didn’t know who H-E was, so I took off ready to kill the son of a b-bobcat that hurt her.”
Preston narrows his gaze on me, obviously still pissed off and not ready to cut me any slack. But he came when I needed him. That’s something I’ve always had. Glancing around Winnie’s small, one-room home, I wonder who she can call when shit hits the fan. The truth hits me like a linebacker.
“She’s more alone than anyone ever ought to be.”GG’s words from earlier have me clutching my chest as if in pain.
“You gonna be okay there, Pan?” GG asks knowingly.
“Yeah. I—”
“So, who is she?” Preston barks. “This girl? This kid? Who are they?”
“Mine.” One word and I feel it with every ounce of my soul. “She … they’re mine.”
Preston scoffs and rolls his gaze toward the ceiling. “Don’t you think you’ve caused enough drama for a while? What is this? A public relations stunt? I don’t think having an insta-family will make anyone forget you were caught with your pants down with two women who are making waves about consent. You can’t Peter Pan your way out of this one, Colton. Neverland is catching up to you.”
His words cut deep, but they don’t hit their mark. It’s Weston that they affect. With every raised word Preston threw at me, the little boy in my lap grew more and more agitated. Beth and I are the only ones who seem to notice. She takes two steps forward, cutting an irritated glance in Preston’s direction before she’s by our side.
“He isn’t a cuddler, Colton. Affection happens on his terms, and his terms only. Even with Winnie. This,” she swipes her hand between Weston and me, “is very unusual. He likes you,” she whispers.
“He’s upset,” I murmur.
