One to Chase - Tia Louise Page 0,83
the lake, toward the hospital. “Put them in your mother’s room. They’ll help her feel better.”
My lip catches in my teeth, and I swear I have to kiss him again. We haven’t stopped touching or kissing each other since we opened our eyes this morning, and I’m not ready to stop now—especially when he thinks of Sylvia this way.
I’m so in love with all of it, and at the same time, itching at the back of my mind is the other woman who’s stolen his time and attention these last several days. We have to talk about her. We will talk about her tonight over dinner.
“It’s such a nice morning.” His arm is over my shoulder, hugging me tightly to his side. “I’ll probably walk to work.”
“What about your car?” He left it parked in front of Sylvia’s building.
His beard lightly scuffs my temple as he kisses my brow. “I’ll get it when I take you to dinner tonight.”
We’re at the entrance, and I turn to face him. His arms surround me, and he only looks deep into my eyes. So many things I want to tell him, but he only kisses me. Our noses touch, our chins touch, and our lips hold each other’s. We’re not making out at the entrance to the hospital, but the sweetness of his kiss is enough to flood my panties with heat.
I’m sure my cheeks are flushed when he straightens again, his eyes fixed on my mouth. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Text me where you are.”
A quick nod, and he’s gone. I’m walking on clouds all the way to Sylvia’s room, vase forgotten. When I reach the door, however, I stop in my tracks, completely shocked.
“Bill!” It’s a whispered exclamation.
My reclusive uncle, my father’s younger brother, who never leaves the horse ranch he owns in Great Falls, Montana, is standing outside my mother’s door talking in a low voice to Stuart.
It’s a familiar sight. As much as my oldest brother has always been exactly like our father, he’s always been closest to this relative we never see. Both Stuart and Patrick would spend weeks every summer with him, working and doing God knows what. I was always with our mother.
His dark brown eyes light under heavy brows. “Little Amalie.” He grins under a thick mustache.
My response is automatic. “I hate it when you call me that.”
“It’s why I always do.” He chuckles, but I can see worry in the tense lines around his eyes. “You’re even prettier when you fuss.”
Walking to me, he catches me in a hug, and I’m surrounded by the scent of sandalwood and fresh air with the faintest background of hay. It’s the smells of the ranch, and I feel nostalgic for the old place. It’s where Patrick and Elaine were married at Christmas. I was still in Paris.
“What are you doing here?” Bill is my father’s sibling, and while I appreciate his concern, it seems unusual for him to make the long trip to visit my mother.
Clearing his throat, he looks down at his boots and slips a hand in his back pocket. “Your brother called me right after he talked to you.”
I look to Stuart, and my oldest brother’s eyebrows rise slightly. I get the distinct impression he’s signaling me, but I’m have no idea about what.
“Were you able to see her?”
My uncle smiles and warmth glistens in his eyes, almost as if he’s fighting tears. “She looks good.”
Relief burns so hard in my chest, I almost drop the bouquet. “I need to see her now.” It’s the same feeling I had standing in her kitchen last night—overwhelming emotion.
Without waiting, I push past Stuart to her door and go inside. A nurse is with her, taking her vitals, but my beautiful mother leans her head to the side.
“Amy.” So much warmth is in her tone, I have to cover my mouth to keep from crying. “Are those for me?”
She smiles, and the nurse steps back. I rush forward to her bedside, hesitating only a moment before reaching for her shoulder, her cheek. “Oh, Mom.” My voice breaks, and I blink down as two tears drop onto the soft pink flowers.
“Shh.” She catches my hand, clasping it in both hers. “It’s okay.”
“I’m sorry... I’m so so sorry.” The tears won’t stop, and she pushes higher in the bed, taking the flowers from me and making me sit beside her.
“Why are you apologizing?” Her cool hand touches my chin, lifting it.
“I didn’t know you were sick.” I