Page 91 of To Belong Together
She’d forgotten Nick had left the front door open.
She smiled, even as guilt and panic fired through her veins. John wouldn’t be happy if he’d heard her using him as leverage with her uncle.
Had he?
He didn’t appear angry, but he did study her and Nick with quiet intensity.
“Thanks for all the help.” Nick shook John’s hand then stepped around him. “I’ll let you know if I find anything in Mildale.”
A moment later, the door clapped against the frame, leaving her alone with John.
His light brown hair was just long enough to curl into his neck by his ear. She’d buried her fingers into that hair on Friday. She also knew the feel of his coat inside and out.
She turned from the promise of comfort.
“What was that about?”
His question froze her. She wanted so much more than money from John that it hurt, but if he’d heard her remark, or if she explained in the wrong way, she’d lose him on the spot.
Except … he’d seemed so committed last night. And the night before. She risked looking his direction.
Why did his eyes have to be so blue? They still reminded her of windshield washer fluid. When she’d first seen the liquid as a kid, she’d called it pretty and insisted her father show her how to pour it in the appropriate reservoir.
Dad. She needed to focus on Dad.
“You all right?” he asked.
She steadied herself against the counter as she struggled to dredge up an answer.
His phone sliced the silence. He studied her a moment longer, then drew it out, checked the display, and lifted it to his ear. “Hello?”
She distinguished the murmur of a man’s voice, but not his words.
Twin lines appeared between John’s brows. “Okay.” He listened some more. “Okay.”
She slid the coffees and sandwich to the edge of the counter. He hadn’t overheard her and Nick, or he wouldn’t have asked if she was okay. At least one thing had gone her way. Finally.
“Will do.” After another pause, he thanked the caller and lowered the device.
“I made you breakfast.” She left her gaze on the pathetic sandwich because she didn’t want to see how unimpressed he’d be.
“Erin.”
“I don’t cook for just anyone.” The joke fell flat. She lifted the food and extended toward him. “As you know.”
He took it from her, set it on the counter, and in a movement that shocked her system as much as a slap would’ve, took her hand.
She met his eyes and found all of their blue brilliance focused on her. She stopped breathing.
He corralled her other hand too. His warm fingers held hers in a grip that pressed her knuckles against the abrasive exterior of his cast.
She didn’t care. Or she wouldn’t, if this was the moment he’d refuse to let her sideline their relationship. The moment he put her fears to rest by assuring her that all the beautiful things she’d come to believe the night of the rehearsal dinner were, in fact, true.
John’s throat pulsed. “It doesn’t look good. He’s unconscious and…”
Every detail blurred but one. “They found him?”
“You can meet him at the hospital. Call your mom. I’ll drive.”
