“He has a rare disease called aplastic anemia.”
“What’s that?” Piper asked. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s a disease where your white blood cells attack your bone marrow. A bone marrow transplant is the only cure.”
“And a sibling is the best match?” Piper asked.
“Yes. He wouldn’t have risked his immune system by coming here if he weren’t telling the truth. I asked Grayson to come over right from the hospital.”
“Did you tell him about your potential brother?” Riley asked.
“No. Not yet.”
“Gee, Dad. First me, and now Carter. What are the chances you’d find out you had a daughter and a brother you never knew about in a matter of months?” She laughed. “This family is like a freaking movie.”
“Riley.” Piper cocked her head at her.
“I’m sorry, Dad.” Riley wrapped her arms around me. “I love you, and everything will work out.”
“Thanks, sweetheart. I love you too.” I hugged her tight.
“And I love you.” Piper smiled and leaned in for a kiss.
“I love you, babe.” I wrapped my arms around her. “Riley’s right. This family is a freaking movie.”
“But nothing is as important as family, right?” A beautiful smile graced her lips. “If this man needs your help, then I know you’ll do the right thing. Come on, Riley. Let’s go to Four Kinds for dinner. Alex is bartending tonight.”
“Cool. Can we sit up at the bar and eat?”
“Sure.” Piper smiled as she grabbed her purse. “How long do you need us gone for?”
“I don’t know. Just come back home when you’re finished,” I said as I walked them to Piper’s car.
CHAPTER39
Gabriel
“It was six o’clock when the doorbell rang, and Grayson still wasn’t here yet. He texted me fifteen minutes ago and said he got held up but was on his way.
Opening the door, Carter stood there with his hands tucked into his pants pockets.
“Hi. Come on in.” I gestured.
“Wow. You have a great house, Gabriel.”
“Thank you. Can I get you something to drink?”
“Scotch, if you have any.”
“Are you kidding?” I grinned. “I have plenty of it.” I walked over to the bar. “Grayson is on his way. He got held up at the hospital.”
“I’m not surprised being a trauma surgeon.” He walked over to the sliding door and stared out. “What’s that?” He pointed to the pottery shed as I handed him his drink.
“That’s my daughter’s pottery studio.”
“You have a daughter?” His brows furrowed.
“Yeah. Her name is Riley, and she’s fifteen years old.”