Page 33 of Daddy By Design

And all the butter.

I glanced up from my phone to see a large, dark figure stumbling from the café. I rubbed the condensation from my window again. Nolan.

“No freaking way. Is he drunk?”

What? On coffee? Macy’s coffee was good, but obviously not as strong as alcohol. Okay, sometimes it was nearly that strong.

I turned off my car and kicked open my door and my heart stopped as he stepped down off the curb and lost his balance.

“Shit, shit, shit.” The rain was coming down in buckets, but I couldn’t let him stumble around like a drunk. Maybe his meeting with Macy hadn’t gone well. Did he have a flask on him or something?

Or worse.

I held my hands out at the cars coming. Luckily, everyone was driving slowly since it was a business zone and no one could see. Horns honked at me, but I had one focus.

Get to him.

“Nolan!”

His chin came up and instantly, he held his head.

Nope. That wasn’t drunk. I scurried across the street through umpteen puddles, as the sewers couldn’t quite combat this level of downpour. This man was going to owe me a whole new shoe collection.

At least this time I was wearing sneakers.

“Get out of my way.” He waved his arm at me.

“Nolan, it’s me.”

His eyes were blind and his long hair was stuck to his head and cheeks, showing off the paleness of his skin. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been quite tan and healthy. Now he was a shade away from gray.

He staggered into the road.

I grabbed his jacket. “You’re going to get yourself killed. Just stop.”He swung around and fell into me. I shoved my shoulder under his arm.

“I need to get to my truck.”

I looked around and couldn’t miss the massive silver truck with my handiwork still on the door. “Okay. It’s just over there. Don’t worry, I’ll get you there.”

“Just point me in the right direction.”

“Don’t be stupid.” I held out a hand and the traffic slowed around us in both directions.

Another tall guy came barreling out of Kinleigh’s Attic across the street. August Beck—thank God.

“You okay, Dahlia?”

“Yeah. Can you help me get him to his truck?”

“He shouldn’t be driving in this condition. Come inside the store.”

“No!” Nolan roared over the sheets of rain. “I need my medication in the truck. I’ll be fine. I just need to get to the truck.”

August frowned down at me for verification. Not sure what to do, I just nodded. He curled his arm around Nolan’s back and we both managed to get him to the Silverado. I gestured to the sidewalk, and Nolan was too out of it to realize I’d put him on the passenger side.

“Okay, thanks,” I shouted over the noise of the wind.

“You sure you’re okay?” August asked.

---