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I rocked back on my heels and bit back a nasty retort. My fight wasn’t with Gemma. Or Aaron. Shit, it wasn’t even really with Holly. I was the problem. I was the one who flipped my shit, ran off to New York, and shot my mouth off the day before, telling Holly I was happy with my life and that I didn’t need her back in my life.
Aaron’s expression softened even as his fiancée’s remained cold. “Boomer, I get it. This place isn’t your dream. But if all you’re after is a solid job, my offer still stands to work with you and start running charters. In fact, I hadn’t brought it up yet, but I’ve been talking to some of my clients—kind of an unofficial poll—and it seems like it could be an idea that really has legs. I don’t have time to run it though. If it’s gonna happen, I need you with me.”
For the second time, the conversation whipped me around 180 degrees. “I’ll think about it.”
Aaron gave me a respectful nod and went back to drinking his coffee. “Wait up for me to get dressed and we can go down and get some breakfast at Carly’s before going to the hospital.”
“All right.”
Gemma took her coffee and yogurt to the table and settled in. I turned to her after Aaron left the kitchen and cleared my throat. “I’m sorry, Gemma. You were right.”
She glanced up at me, her eyes soft and expressive. “I know you still love her, Jack. And to be honest, I know she still loves you. You guys need to figure this shit out. Not just for yourselves but for your baby and your future. Try to let go of the past mistakes and all the things said in anger and focus on remembering what brought you guys together in the first place because from where I’m sitting, it was really special.”
I nodded, to overcome to speak and then shuffled out of the kitchen.
Aaron hustled down the stairs a few minutes later and we set off. He talked me through his ideas and relayed the conversations he’d been having with his more affluent clients and neighboring businessmen and women and by the time we left Carly’s and went up to the hospital, I was nearly convinced that maybe staying in Holiday Cove was the right move to make.
Until we got outside Holly’s room.
Aaron screeched to a stop before we’d even reached the nurse's station. “Is that—”
I followed his gaze and every muscle in my body went tense. Noah Scoville—nearly lost behind a giant floral arrangement—was striding right past the nurse’s station and into Holly’s room. “Son of a bitch,” I growled.
“Got that right,” Aaron agreed.
28
Holly
Rachel was mid-sentence when a knock interrupted her. I loved Rachel with all my heart but I was relieved by the distraction. She’d been at my bedside, lecturing me on all two hundred fifty-seven thousand reasons I should give Jack a second chance.
Each argument she made only made me feel worse, and I’d been about ready to jump down her throat and tell her to leave me alone. My body ached from lying in bed all day and night but moving too much was too painful as my injuries from the accident were more apparent. The doctors couldn’t give me much for the pain as too much of anything could harm the baby. Between Rachel’s lecture and the pain, I was in a pissy mood and almost wanted to have her send Jack in. At least another round with him would distract me from everything else.
“Come in,” I called out.
The door swung open and an enormous bouquet with legs came into the room. Even before he showed his face, I knew who was the one behind the oversize arrangement. “Noah!”
“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion.” He peered out from the bouquet and flashed his winning smile. “Holly, you look amazing!”
I scoffed. “Hardly. My face is fifty shades of purple right now.”
Noah set the flowers down on the rolling cart at the foot of my bed since it was clearly too large to fit on the bedside table and then turned back to face me. He was dressed for work in a sharp, dove grey suit. He looked over at Rachel. “Oh, hello! Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting…”
Rachel opened her mouth—likely ready to tell him off, judging by the frosty look on her face. I got there first, “No, not at all. Thank you for the flowers, Noah. You didn’t have to do that.”
“My pleasure. How are you feeling?”
“A little banged up. I’ve got a wonderful new accessory here,” I said, lifting up my casted arm.
Noah gave a faint smile. “Want me to sign it?”
I laughed softly and felt my bruised ribs protest. “Maybe another time.”
Noah swooped over and extended a hand across me. “We haven’t been introduced,” he said, smiling at Rachel.
