Page 14 of Taming His Honeydoll
Chapter 4
The first place Sawyerstopped was the waiting room for the ER. There were plenty of people sitting and standing, all with worried looks on their faces. He headed for the window and just stood there staring out, but tuned into the voices behind him.
One older woman was telling her friend about an orange cat named Miller who’d put a mouse on her pillow that morning—throw-up style. She was graphically describing the mass of bones and hair to her horrified companion.
The gaggle of three young business females were talking about a coworker who’d choked at lunch and they’d tried to perform the Heimlich maneuver on him before EMS arrived. He assumed the unfortunate young man was okay since they were joking about the big-breasted one ramming into his back with her boobs and that was what had dislodged the bulge in his throat. Medics were checking to see if he’d aspirated any of the chicken chunks. He smirked briefly since he could see their relief. Humor was often a way of defusing intense fear and emotion.
A professional looking businessman in a cream peacoat was near the plant behind him on his phone. It was obvious he didn’t want to be overheard by anyone. His dark intelligent glance flickered briefly over Sawyer and then he turned his head away.
He hit paydirt though, when a pretty woman looking ready to give birth any day waddled into the waiting area with a tall, rawboned man with rugged good looks topped by an unruly cap of auburn waves right behind her.
“Slow down, Marsha,” he scolded, his arm sliding around her waist.
Sawyer stiffened. Marsha was the name of the woman Oliver Tremaine had married. Was that Oliver?
Marsha ignored the man and rushed towards the businessman behind him.
“Oh, Ty, we came as soon as Oliver got your call. How is Emma doing?”
“Thanks for calling me, Ty,” Oliver spoke quietly and shook hands with Ty. “The little brat probably wouldn’t have if you hadn’t been there.”
“Chessy is with her right now,” Ty responded. “They are running X-rays.”
“I’m going to go check on her. Can you keep an eye on Marsha while I’m gone? We don’t need an early labor because she refuses to stay put.”
“I don’t need a bodyguard,” Marsha protested.
After allowing himself one quick glance, Sawyer kept his back to them and took out his cell phone, pretending to be on a call. He just listened.
“No, at times you need a babysitter,” Oliver teased.
Ty sounded amused. “I went through that with Chessy too. During her pregnancy with Lacy, she straightened up as soon as I flipped out my notebook. She had a smaller accounting than the first time around with our son.”
“Ty, that’s just mean,” Marsha scolded.
Oliver’s voice rumbled in amusement. “What makes you think I’m not keeping score?”
