Page 50 of Homecoming Heartbreaker

“Jesus, Molly, will you listen to me?” Mack bellowed, not knowing what he would say if she gave him even half a chance.

Molly just shook her head and walked away from him. And Mack knew that, in his cockiness, in his hastily concocted need-to-control-everything plan, he’d gone too far. He’d hurt her, badly.

And while Molly had an enormous heart, she wasn’t stupid and she tended not to repeat past mistakes so she’d never love him now and she’d never trust him again.

He was—what was the word he was looking for?—screwed.

Ten

Later that afternoon Mack left yet another message on Molly’s voice mail system. “Dammit, Molly, call me! It’s about Jameson. He’s back in the hospital.”

Giada placed a hand in the center of his back and Mack looked down at the tiny woman standing next to him. He could see his fear reflected in her eyes, and Mack pushed a fist into his sternum as he dropped into one of the plastic seats in the hospital waiting room.

“I can’t get a hold of her.” Mack dropped his head, his forearms on his thighs. “She needs to be here.”

With him. Because that was where she belonged. He needed her, craved her, loved her and he wanted her by his side riding every wave life sent their way. The small ripples, breakers that could be easily surfed, the storm-whipped monster waves.

He could live his life on his own, taking his chances, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to share his journey with Molly. As a team, a partnership, equal in every way.

And he wanted everything with the woman who was not currently speaking to him. And might never again.

In the hours between Molly’s storming out of his office and Giada’s frantic call, he’d examined his actions and had a couple of come-to-Jesus moments. As hard as it was to admit, Molly had been entitled to rip six layers of skin off him. She wasn’t a child; his actions had been high-handed and the I’ll-protect-you dynamic that characterized their childhood didn’t apply anymore.

Molly wanted, and deserved, someone who respected and valued her input. If she ever forgave him, he’d never forget the lessons he learned today.

The phone in his hand buzzed and Mack hit the green button without looking to see who was calling. “Mol?”

“No, it’s me... Grey.”

Mack rubbed his fingers across his forehead. He’d left messages for his brothers, telling them Giada found Jameson on the floor of his bedroom, conscious but mentally confused.

“How is Pops, Mack?” Grey demanded.

“They think it might be a stroke but the tests will confirm that. If it is, then they can treat him immediately and he’ll have a great chance of recovery,” Mack told his brother.

“And if it’s another bleed?”

That was a question Mack didn’t want to answer. “Let’s just wait and see, bro. Are you on your way?”

Grey told him that he was boarding his flight and would be with him in a few hours. Mack disconnected the call and his phone rang again. He felt the same flare of hope that it was Molly but it was Travis. After a brief conversation with him and confirming that he was also en route to Asheville, Mack tried Molly again, to no avail.

“I can’t get a hold of her,” he told Giada again.

“You will.” Giada patted his hand. Her eyes went to the door, willing a doctor to walk into the room to give them some news.

As if she manifested him, a small woman walked into the room, a satisfied smile on her face. Both Mack and Giada sprang to their feet, anxious for news.

“Mr. Holloway is fine,” she told him.

“He didn’t have a stroke or a brain bleed?” Giada demanded, her voice shrill with anxiety.

“Nope. We ran the tests, did an MRI and we can’t see anything that indicates a serious neurological event.”

Mack’s heart rate dropped to a more regular rhythm and he took his first full breath in what felt like years.

“Come with me.” Dr. Bell gestured them to follow her, which they did, Mack following a step behind the two small women.

Dr. Bell led them into a private room and Mack looked over to the bed, where his father sat, resting on a mound of pillows. He glared at Giada and then at Mack. “Get me the hell out of here,” he growled.

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