Page 113 of The Scars I Bare
“Are you sure?” I asked, Lizzie squeezing my hand with excitement.
He nodded. “He’s a little banged up and bruised from being thrashed around in the water, and he’s tired from the lack of oxygen. But he’s good.”
“And Blake?” I asked.
“He’s a little more banged up. A little more bruised,” he said.
“But?” I asked, feeling it hanging in the air.
“He’s going to be arrested, Cora. If he’d just stolen the boat in normal weather, Taylor could decide not to press charges for stealing his truck and the boat, and the whole thing could slip under the rug.”
“But he endangered lives.”
“And he did so while drunk. So it’s out of Taylor’s hands. He doesn’t have a choice in the matter unfortunately.”
I lifted my chin. “I can’t keep making excuses for him.”
He gave an understanding nod. “Do you want to see Dean?” he asked.
My heart leaped. “I thought you’d never ask.” Looking down at my little girl, I knew I had one stop first. “Take Lizzie with you. I’ll meet you there in a few.”
My stomach was nothing but butterflies as I took the last few steps down the hallway toward the room Dean was in. I still remembered the first time I’d walked down this same corridor, newly hired, barely out of nursing school, nervous as could be.
By the time Dean had shown up, I’d thought I was an old pro.
But nothing could have prepared me for those soulful green eyes and that mesmerizing smile. I thought it was just his sad story—a poor fisherman who had lost everything to one fateful night at sea. But I was wrong.
His memory had stayed with me through it all. The pain, the suffering, and ultimately, the strength that had risen from it all.
He was always there.
Calling me home.
The door was cracked open, and I could hear the sounds of Taylor and Jake laughing as I stepped inside. They caught my movement and quieted down as I entered. Turning the corner, I saw him.
My beautiful, broken man.
Curled up against him was Lizzie. Like a barnacle on his side.
“Well, I could use some coffee. You, too, Jake?” Taylor said rather loudly.
“Oh, yes,” he replied. “Coffee sounds nice. How about you, munchkin? Hot cocoa from the coffee shop?”
Lizzie’s eyes widened, and she hopped down off the bed. “See you later, Dean! Be right back, Mommy!”
“Okay, honey. And, Jake?”
“Yeah?” he said, stopping next to me before he left.
“Do you think you can take Lizzie to see her daddy? He’s awake.”
He looked at me before nodding, and the noise of the three of them dissipated down the hallway. Silence fell around us as I made my way up to the bed, taking a seat in the chair that’d been placed next to him.
Dean’s eyes had followed me the whole way there. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, but I beat him to it.
“The other night, Lizzie was telling me about arch bridges. No doubt, she’d been up late at night, learning about them, when she should have been sleeping. Anyway, she was amazed by them; she couldn’t stop rattling off facts about these stupid bridges. And I let her because you know how she gets if she doesn’t get a chance to tell someone this knowledge she’s learned; it’s like she overheats, and then we risk her exploding in the middle of art class or something.”
He smiled a ridiculous, handsome smile that did funny things to my already fluttery stomach.
