Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Burgess hoisted a brow. “You think?”
“Burgess,” Chloe said. “I managed to get her out shopping yesterday, so we could both buy some bathing suits and sandals for Costa Rica. Not easy to find in Boston during the winter, but prevail we did! Anyway—”
Sig almost dropped the phone. “What do you mean you both had to buy bathing suits? You’re not going to Costa Rica.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Yes, she is,” Wells interjected. “I hired her to play the harp during the wedding ceremony. On Burgess’s recommendation.”
“Was anyone going to tell me?” Sig sputtered.
“I was a little busy wrecking my back.”
“He did suggest we add you to the guest list, too,” Wells continued. “And we did. Although, I’m sorry to relay the news that you’re sitting with Josephine’s uncle Herb. Aptly named because he smokes a lot of medicinal herb. Glaucoma.”
“We should have brought you shopping with us, Sig!” Chloe lamented. “You always know what colors look best on me.”
“That’s easy. Every color looks—” Sig broke off, took a centering breath. “Back on track, Chlo. What did you tell me about that guy giving Tallulah his phone number?”
Burgess’s chin snapped up so fast, his neck popped. Jealousy went through his chest like a bull in a china shop, smashing plates and teacups as it went. “What?”
“Yup!” Chloe sang brightly. “A professor, actually. But he teaches undergrad, so it’s cool. She’s not sure whether or not she’s going to call him, but I told her to go for it. He’s yummy.”
Burgess and Sig were staring at the phone, like they wanted to bite it in half.
“I told her she should invite him to the wedding, too. She gets a plus one!”
“No, the hell she doesn’t.” Burgess ignored the sting in his back as he sat up slightly, pointing a stern finger at the golfer masquerading as his friend. “Wells. Take back the plus one. Now.”
“The invitations are sent.” He faked a wince. “It’s out of my hands.”
His head was on the verge of exploding. There wouldn’t be enough doctors to repair him if Tallulah showed up at this wedding with a professor. How old was this guy anyway? He didn’t want to know. “How old is this professor, Chloe?”
“Um . . . like, forties? Yeah. And a Sagittarius, so he loves an adventure.”
Burgess could barely see straight, the throb in his head had intensified so much. Forties? Adventure? This had all happened in the space of one week? Was she . . . moving on already? Because he never would. Ever. It was Tallulah or no one—end of story. And suddenly, he was more helpless and panicked than he’d ever been in his entire life. This would never have happened if they’d just let him remain in the darkness, numb and angry and protected from further pain. “As soon as I’m better, I’m kicking everyone’s ass!”
“Aha!” Sig widened his eyes. “Does that mean you’re going to rehab?”
Burgess crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn’t say that.”
“You stubborn motherfucker.”
“Sig!” Chloe gasped.
“Sorry.” He tapped his finger on the back of the phone. “I’ll see you later with some Pop-Tarts. Frosting, right?”
“My hero!”
A line appeared between Sig’s brows. “You don’t have a plus one to this wedding, right, Chlo?”
“Yes, I do.”
His left eye twitched. “Okay. See you later.”
Sig hung up the phone.
The rookies were elbowing each other.
Burgess and Sig traded a silent communication that could only come between two athletes that had spent the last six years predicting each other’s moves on the ice. Sig’s jaw flexed. Burgess shook his head almost imperceptibly. Sig’s upper lip curled. Burgess sighed.
“What was that?” Wells said, sounding almost awed.
“We’ll tell you in a minute. But we have one more intervention guest and she’s been waiting very patiently with an iPad and a Big Gulp.” Sig jerked his chin at one of the rookies and they stood, opening the door.
And in walked Lissa.
Burgess’s throat seized up so suddenly, he briefly looked away to get himself under control. His chest burned like the surface of the sun. My kid. My kid is here. Seeing me like this. It was unbearable and yet, he was almost knocked over by the relief and joy of her presence.
“Hey, Liss.”
She’d stopped at the side of the bed. “Hi.”
He reached out and ruffled her hair. “I’m okay, kid.”
Was he, though? He should be up trying. To move. To heal.
If anything could be deemed motivation . . . it was his daughter. She needed him. Tallulah had made him see that, hadn’t she?
Lissa remained stoic for several beats of time, before her chin started to wobble. “Dad?”
“Yes?”
It took her a long time to speak. “I messed everything up,” she whispered finally. “I keep thinking about how happy you looked with Tallulah before . . . I said those horrible things to her. I didn’t even mean them, I was just sad.”