Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. Extreme money made people act differently all of the time. How Carter stayed grounded was probably the place where he connected best with Dash. “He’s my stepfather, but I guess my father in-law too. That’s funny. I never considered the connection.” My gaze darted to her kind face, trying to gauge the amount of dysfunction in my statement. She seemed to have no judgment about my words.
“I didn’t know who he was, but others recognized him on the spot. Then they felt like they knew Dash. I guess they’re photographed together regularly.”
I remained quiet, knowing Dash would find that hilarious. Carter and Dash tried to stick it to his father any chance they got, but while doing so, they’d become incredibly close.
“How’s our guy doing? I understand he’s doing better.”
“They keep tellin’ me that, but he’s not awake, or movin’,” I said, going to the opposite side of the bed from where she worked.
“Did you do his hair?” she asked, adjusting the tubes on his face.
“I tried. He’s particular about his hair. He’d be embarrassed by my efforts, but I tried,” I said, eyeing the modest flip I had managed.
“He looks great,” she said and began working on the iPad attached to his bed. “Do you two live around here?”
“No, we have a house in Sea Springs. We have children and dogs there.” My stare remained fixed on Dash’s face. “We have triplet girls who are three and a seven-month-old son.”
“That’s a big load. I have an eight-year-old daughter and I can barely keep up.” My gaze lifted to her commiserating.
“I have a sister around that age. Carter and Mom had a daughter. The more I talk about us, the more I realize we might appear super dysfunctional, but it’s not. We’re all lucky to have each other.”
“Mr. Carter claimed Dash as his son, and your mom’s Kailey’s mom, so Dash is your stepbrother and husband?” Her gaze twinkled and lifted to me, showing she was teasing. “Honestly, from what I see every day, you guys are the high point of functional. I promise.” A couple of guys pushed through the door, guiding in another bed. I couldn’t imagine lying there, awake, watching Dash breathe all night, but it had to be better than the hard, vinyl chair.
“Do you want me to turn the music back on?” the nurse asked about the speaker I placed on a stool by his head.
“I’ll do it and make the bed,” I said to the two guys shaking out a sheet. Luckily, the nurse backed me up when they ignored me.
“He likes to stay busy and do things for himself. Leave it. It’s good.” All three left the room together, leaving behind a deafening silence. My gaze traveled to Dash.
“Please wake up. I need you. Please.”
11: The Did It Happen
Beau/Dash
Beau
The Following Evening
Houston Methodist Hospital
As exhausted as I was when I crawled into this bed, was exactly how frustrated I was when I didn’t fall asleep. For the past two hours, I watched Dash and the ticking clock above his head. My eyes were gritty as hell, and I was damned drained, but sleep eluded me. My stomach churned, prompting me to rise and take a seat on the edge of the bed, giving another crazy long yawn. I eyed the food tray, as my stomach gave a solid grumble.
With my foot, I caught the backside and drew the rolling tray toward me. I lifted the silver cover, spotting a couple of prepackaged items. Juice, crackers, Jello, and a small bottle of water. The juice appealed the most and poked a hole in the top with my thumb.
“Dash. Dash!” I yelled watching his face. Nothing changed, of course. Why were the doctors and nurses saying my guy was doing any better? He looked gaunt and malnourished, more so than before.
In a couple of gulps, I drained the juice container and brought the cracker’s edge to my mouth to open. “The problem, Dash, is that you’re the talker between us. I need you to wake up and prove to me that the staff’s correct, and that you’re in fact gettin’ better, because I don’t see it. Wake up right now.”
I lowered down to my sock-covered feet and tossed the empty juice box on the tray. I’d pushed our beds close-ish together but still had feet between us to allow easy access to the staff. I sidled up to his bed, wishing I could be beside him, surrounding his presence. The one thing Dash and I did outstandingly well was cuddle. We did it so well that Duke and Daisy generally wanted up on the bed to join us, to get some of our love directed toward them.
“Duke’s probably gonna have to up his anxiety medication. I intended to talk to you about it when I came home. He’s duckin’ and hidin’ more than normal. Dixie stays close. She helps coax him out. I know we don’t like to over-medicate him, but it’s painful to watch him be scared. He’s so smart and such a good guy. I think it was part of the reason I was on edge before I left.” My gaze shifted back and forth over Dash’s face, seeing Duke vividly inside my head. “Maybe there’s somethin’ I’m missin’ in his trainin’. He’s protective of us and our children. I wish I wouldn’t have gotten ’em fixed so fast. I’d like to have their puppies. Silly, huh?”