Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78466 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Jory: And sometimes you don’t end up sleeping together. Kids need you, so you sleep with one of them or your partner snores––
Sam: I don’t—
Jory: It’s an example, and you only snore when you’re drunk or overly tired.
Sam: When was the last time I was drunk?
Jory: This is a scenario.
Sam: You snore more than I do.
Jory: Don’t mutter, and I do not, and could you please just focus!
Sam: Hah! Coming from you. That’s rich.
Jory: Sam!
Sam: Fine. I hate it when you work late and you end up sleeping on the couch, because I have trouble sleeping when you’re not in the bed, and when you’re not in the bed, I feel like I missed out on something good.
Jory: What?
Sam: What?
Jory: I—you do? You feel like you missed out?
Sam: You should sleep in bed with me so I don’t miss it when you roll over in the middle of the night and reach for me. I like to be reached for.
Jory: …
Sam: Oh for crissakes, don’t cry.
Jory: I miss the snuggling when you’re not in the bed.
Sam: And the sex.
Jory: Sam!
Sam: This goes back to my original point.
Jory: Anyway, you must make time. Start with date night and stick to it like glue. It’s a good first step.
Sam: Yes, it is, now come to bed.
That’s all for this month, everyone. Have a safe and wonderful January.
FEBRUARY 2018
Hello, all, and welcome to my column. This is Jory Harcourt, and normally I’m here offering help, a shoulder to cry on, and maybe even some advice, but I have another story to tell you from Valentine’s Day this year. It wasn’t as scary as some of our other adventures, but I was not expecting to spend my evening in the emergency room…
So my husband was shot protecting me—I mean really, who needs flowers and candy when the love of your life puts himself between you and a bullet—and we were in the ER when our friends dropped off our kids at the hospital. They, the kids, had just missed Special Agent in Charge Zane Calhoun, who had come to check on Sam and let us know that the man who shot at me, but got him instead, was in federal custody.
“Ohmygod, I was just with you, what happened?” Hannah, my daughter, moaned as she rushed into the room where we were. She had been at an event with Aaron Sutter at the Field Museum that Sam and his team of marshals had provided security for, so of course she had seen her father. That he now had a bullet in him was a scary surprise.
“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Sam soothed her, and I let go of his hand so she could take it as she slipped down onto the chair I got up out of.
He was lying on his stomach, head turned as the doctor was digging a bullet out of his right shoulder.
“Daddy!” she wailed, the tears coming fast as she saw the small gush of blood from the wound, leaning close to put her hand on his face.
He squeezed her hand. “Sweetheart, I promise you, this is so not life threatening. Tell her, Doc, tell her I’m fine.”
“He really is fine, honey,” Dr. Elias Cooper, the attending physician performing the bullet removal, told her.
“Dr. Cooper is a very good doctor,” the nurse who had been in charge of Sam since we walked through the door—this was the chief deputy after all—assured my daughter. “And his older brother works here too, so he keeps an eye on him.”
Dr. Cooper gave Hannah an eye roll, which she seemed to like, though she stayed where she was, hovering over her father.
Kola, my son, was standing by the door, hands in his pockets, looking miserable.
“He’s going to be fine,” I promised him.
Quick nod from him as his chin wobbled and his eyes filled. He had talked to Sam earlier on the phone, but there was hearing about your father getting shot and there was seeing it, and I was betting that it was not what he imagined or had seen on TV. “I told Uncle Aaron and Uncle Duncan that they shouldn’t come in, that Dad wouldn’t want them to see him like this.”
“Good call, son,” Sam called over to him.
I, of course, had told Aaron the same thing in text, which was the real reason he hadn’t come in.
Kola’s dark violet eyes flicked to me before he darted over to Sam and crouched next to the bed, beside his sister’s chair so he could be eye to eye with his father.
“Are you okay?” he asked softly.
“I’m fine,” Sam assured him.
“Did you get a tetanus shot already?”
“I did.”
“What about an antibiotic?”
“Yep. Got a shot, and I have a prescription that the pharmacy is filling as we speak.”
Kola looked up at Dr. Cooper. “How many stitches will he have?”