Page 63 of Ride Me Reckless
This time, I wouldn’t miss a single heartbeat.
Tessa disappeared down the hallway, her hand trailing along the wall like she belonged there. The sound of water started a moment later, soft and steady behind the closed door.
I leaned back in the kitchen chair, still holding the mug she'd filled earlier. Coffee had gone cold, but I didn’t care. My body was tired, my heart full in that achey, stretched-out kind of way that didn’t hurt so much as hum.
That’s when my phone buzzed on the table. Carlos.
I swiped to answer.
“Mornin’, boss,” he said, wind whipping through the line behind him. “Double wide’s coming along nice. I should have the roof patched and the wiring done by Thursday, maybe sooner.”
“Good,” I said. “Appreciate it.”
“I was thinkin’... you want me to get started on furniture? It’s pretty bare bones in there. Figured I could pick up a few things—bed, couch, table. Nothin’ fancy unless you say so.”
I hesitated, my gaze drifting toward the hallway.
She hadn’t said anything about needing a place yet. But it didn’t take a genius to see where this was heading. Her mama would need care. The hospital bills would add up. And now, with a baby on the way... hell, she’d need a soft place to land.
And I could give her that. Quietly. Steadily. No strings, she wasn’t ready to get tied up with me yet.
“Yeah,” I said, voice low. “Get what you think it needs. Real livable. Comfortable. Nothin’ that’ll spook her or make her feel boxed in.”
“You got it,” Carlos said, no questions asked. “I’ll send some pics later today.”
When we hung up, I set the phone down slowly, carefully, like it was sacred. Then I looked around my kitchen—her mug still warm, the faint echo of her laughter still clinging to the air.
It wasn’t a proposal.
Not yet.
But it was a start.
And I’d never been one to leave a job half done.
Chapter Seventeen
A Brighter Tomorrow
Tessa
The hallway smelled like the usual hospital cocktail of bleach and something vaguely cafeteria-like, but today it didn’t weigh on me the same way. I passed a nurse with a cart full of tiny cups and smiled at her, because for once, I felt like smiling. The path to Mama’s room, one I could walk in my sleep by now, didn’t feel heavy today.
It felt… promising.
Helen stood near the door with her tablet in hand and that polished, professional smile she always wore when decisions were coming. I used to dread that smile. Today, I reminded myself it was just part of the process.
“Tessa,” she said warmly. “Mind if we chat for a second before you go in?”
I gave a slight nod and hugged my purse a little tighter, more out of habit than nerves.
“She’s doing well,” Helen began, swiping through her screen like she already knew what it would say. “The pneumonia’scleared completely, and her vitals have been stable. Dr. Maxwell’s pleased with her labs, and he’s agreed to keep her here through the end of the week while we monitor her response to the trial meds.”
That part wasn’t new, but something in her tone felt lighter. Like we’d made it through the hard part.
She looked at me with quiet sympathy. “But we do need to start thinking about the next step. Medicare won’t approve an extended stay based on dementia alone. The good news is her supplemental coverage will fully support a memory care facility for the next few months—longer, depending on the location.”
Memory care.
