your grandma…”
“Yeah, I am. Much better than I ever thought I could, to be honest.”
“I guess it’s because he doesn’t give you much time to think,” he said with a smirk.
“Something like that.” I grinned.
We started pushing the bench into the spot Gavin usually kept it, grunting with exertion.
“You guys need a hand with that?” Phil’s body filled the doorframe as he ducked his head to enter the room.
“Yes, please,” I panted.
Gavin and Phil maneuvered the bench into place, and Phil plopped his ass down on it.
“Sheri and Jason are on their way with Molly’s Po’Boys. I told them to get enough for everyone. They should be here pretty soon.”
“Sweet!” piped Gavin, moving to his desk and un-bubble-wrapping his diploma and certifications. “This is moving a hell of a lot faster than I thought it would. We’ll have the afternoon completely free.”
“You good here, Gavin?” I asked.
Phil was giving me a panty-combusting look, and I didn’t want my crotch to burst into flames in front of my coworker.
“Yeah, just have to hang this shit on the walls—”
“Cool.” I about-faced out of the room, Phil and his laughter following me.
Back in my office, I finished setting my own bench up. Phil managed to move his giant self behind me, and he wrapped his arms around my waist. As he buried his face in my neck, giving me those tonguing kisses I loved so much, Lucy popped her face around the doorframe.
“Dr. MacGregor?” she squeaked, averting her gaze.
Face blazing red-hot, I attempted to wriggle free, but Phil only held on tighter.
“What’s up, Lucy?”
“There’s someone here who says you’re expecting him? Are you treating anyone today? Because the guy’s face—”
“Oh, that’s Sheri and Jason,” Phil told her, finally releasing his constrictor hold on me. “They brought us food.”
“Wait—is that Jason Jones?” she asked in shock.
“Yup,” replied Phil.
“What happened to his face?”
“I ran into Phil’s fist.” Jason’s voice floated into the room from behind her.
Lucy jumped and yelped, her hand pressing over her racing heart.
Phil laughed. “Yeah, he did.”
Looking around the corner, Jason said, “We got lunch. You guys comin’?”
His face wasn’t looking so bad. Most of the swelling had gone down, and the bruises around his eyes, while still a dark purple, were fading into a greenish-brown tinge around the outer parts.
In the waiting room, Sheri was unpacking plastic cups and packets of white sugar, placing them on the coffee table. She looked up at me and smiled her megawatt smile. “I got unsweetened iced tea.”
“Thanks, Sher-Bear,” I replied, returning her smile.
She looked so good—and not just because she was wearing her new wide-legged jeans and a sky-blue T-shirt that made the color of her eyes pop while covering up her boobs. She had a light about her that she’d had since Friday morning. She looked radiant and healthy-looking, not the gray wounded soul I’d once met. Frank openly stared at her, slack-jawed, from his seat in the armchair.
“Hey, Frank,” said Phil, his tone full of laughter. “That’s Jason’s girlfriend, Sheri. Sheri, that’s Frank and Gavin.”
She turned her smile on them, and Frank went slightly cross-eyed.
“You’re Jason Jones’s girlfriend?” Lucy asked faintly, taking the armchair opposite of Frank.
“Yep,” she replied, her smile softening.
“What’s a Jason Jones?” Frank whispered to his brother.
“I think it’s like a Phil Deveraux,” Gavin whispered back, grinning.
Frank just looked confused. Phil cracked up and flopped onto the couch, pulling me onto his lap.
“Stop it,” I hissed. I scooted off to sit on the floor between his knees.
Leaning over me, he whispered, “What’s the problem?”
“I work here, babe. These are my coworkers, and that behavior is inappropriate in front of them, okay?”
Dropping a kiss on top of my head, he replied, “All right.”
Sheri handed everyone a sandwich and a cup of iced tea before sitting between Jason’s knees, on the floor next to me.
“Oh, Lucy!” I said before biting into my sandwich. “Before we leave today, I need to be taken off the schedule for—when are we leaving?” I turned to Phil.
“We leave Thursday the twenty-eighth, in the mornin’. We’ll be back Sunday night.”
Turning back to Lucy, I told her, “I’ll be back to work on the first of November.”
She set her sandwich down on the coffee table.
“Not now, Luce!” I barked at her, thinking that maybe Phil was rubbing off on me more than I cared to admit. “After you finish your lunch.”
She grabbed the sandwich and started eating at top speed.
“After you enjoy your lunch,” I emphasized.
“Yes, Dr. MacGregor,” she replied, slowing down her intake.
“Dude, you’re datin’ a