Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“He’s worried about you. I’m told it’s a dad’s job.” I settled into the visitor’s chair near his bed.
“You don’t have kids?”
“Nope.” I shook my head, trying to sound as ambivalent as possible. “Married twice, no kids. I live with our other friend Eric, though, like your dad did before he moved to the carriage house. I help with Eric’s teens.”
“How’d you manage two divorces?” Declan frowned, studying me like I might have sprouted an extra eye. “That bad at picking chicks?”
I had to laugh because he was hardly alone in that assumption. “One really patient woman who didn’t deserve my closeted ass. One narcissistic dude whom my friends assure me I didn’t deserve. And that was that.”
“Oh.” Declan pursed his lips. “You’re gay.”
My laughter evaporated. “Problem?”
“No. It’s cool.” Declan was rather clearly lying. He added a dismissive wave, but I wasn’t buying it. He grimaced as he lowered his hand again. “Ow. Gotta remember not to do that. Stupid IV. And stupid headache. Didn’t mean to sound rude. Everything hurts. That’s why I’m not sleeping.”
“They gave you a pain pump.” I pointed to the button the nursing staff had placed near his right side. “Use it.”
“Nah. I’m tougher than that.” Declan’s chin took on a stubborn tilt exactly like Sean’s.
“There’s no awards for gritting out your discomfort.” I took his right hand and gently guided it toward the button, mindful of his IV. He had nice hands, big for his height, muscled and callused from all his motocross training. Not that I had any business noticing. “The body needs rest to heal. The more rest, the quicker you’ll heal.”
“I don’t wanna get too used to lying around or dependent on pills.”
“Is substance abuse a real concern?” Eyes narrowing, I glanced over at the door. “Confidentially? I won’t mention it to your dad, but the nursing staff might want to know—”
“No. Not like that.” Declan released a pained groan. “I mean, I drink. I party. But I don’t have a problem. I just don’t want a problem. Does that make sense?”
“I get it.” I sat back in the chair and pulled out my phone. “But you need to rest.”
“What are you doing?” He frowned, looking for all the world like an injured prince, entitled to my full attention. “You gonna sit here and play on your phone?”
“No, Your Highness.” I kind of dug his attitude, not that I was ever telling him that. If he wasn’t my best friend’s son… Nope. Couldn’t even let the brain head down that track. “I believe you requested more of my mystery book.” I clicked my e-book app open. “I’m gonna make you a bargain. I’ll read you the next chapter or so until you fall asleep if you’ll hit your pain pump button to try to get some relief. Staying ahead of the pain will help, trust me.”
“Okay.” Declan let out a royal huff before finally pressing the pain pump button. “Begin. Please.”
And so I began to read aloud, trying like hell to remember who Declan was and why I couldn’t enjoy his company, even temporarily. God, I hoped he fell asleep, and quick.
Chapter Five
Declan
“You’re supposed to be sleeping.” Jonas didn’t seem particularly put out that I wasn’t yet asleep. In truth, the dose of pain medication had relaxed me, and feeling something other than my collection of aches had me in a far better mood and more talkative than sleepy.
“Yeah, but the mysterious stranger has been poisoned.” I offered up a smile. Jonas had kindly started at chapter one, seeing as how I only remembered snippets of the plot from the other day. And surprisingly, I was all caught up in the discovery of the murder victim. “This is big drama.”
“Are you putting me on?” Jonas tilted his head, considering me with his soft hazel eyes. He had an oddly appealing face—not classically hot, but warm and welcoming with nice eyes, a fuzzy beard, and kind expressions.
“I don’t have the energy for a prank.” I snorted because in my younger years, I might have done such a thing, not that I was particularly proud of that rowdy rep. “I’m serious. I like the story. It’s the only thing that seems to require the perfect amount of thinking. Like, not zero, because then my mind races. But not so much that my brain hurts and one of those stupid ocular migraines comes on.”
The neurosurgeon had spouted a whole lot of medical jargon, but the part I’d registered was that the headaches and vision disturbances were linked. The worse the headache, the more wonky my vision. Lovely. And the doctor hadn’t offered a treatment or a timetable for when the blasted headaches might improve.
“That’s one of the reasons why I like cozy mysteries too, actually.” Jonas’s smile widened. Making him smile made my muscles even more loose and relaxed, and my chest was lighter than it had been since the accident. “The books are predictable but engaging. Reassuring.”