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“Spit it out, Rose. Let me see your mouth.” I spat out the contents of my mouth then opened wide for him to see.

“Stick out your tongue,” he coaxed gently. I have no idea why I did what he was asking. Maybe it was the pain, maybe it was because the initial humiliation wasn’t enough for me and I wanted to make sure to finish myself off.

“Well, you bit the hell out of your tongue, but I think you’ll survive.” Noticing the pain-induced tears sliding down my cheeks, Jack whisked them away with his fingertips as we sat in the middle of my busy and budding complex. I took in his clean scent as my eyes remained blurred with the intensity of my injured tongue. When the pain began to subside, and I realized we were simply staring at each other, our posture insanely intimate, I jerked back then jumped from his lap, making quick work of resuming my seat in the cart. He slowly stood up, brushed the grass off his jeans, and then slid back into his seat, his lips pressed firmly together.

I took off again at a snail’s pace as Jack chuckled. I couldn’t bear to look at him. When I’d gathered some of my whits back, I stopped in front of a field and tried my best to speak a clear sentence.

“Obder der is the farlm.”

Jack looked at me with wide eyes and declared, “I think we’re done for the day.” There was no masking his hysterical laughter, and after a few indignant seconds, I joined in then winced at the pounding in my head and my throbbing tongue. When our laughter dwindled, I glanced his way as he turned to look at me to make one last joke. “Sure you can handle a scalpel?”

I gave him a warning glare. “Wabt to pway cadaver?” Another bout of laughter kept Jack occupied as I turned the cart around and hauled ass back to the main building.

When we made it to the entrance, my dad was waiting in the lobby. He profusely apologized to us both, saying traffic was hell. Shortly after, the flustered and out of breath Spaniard, who belonged to my sister, hauled ass into the lobby and straight past us with a quick hello. His ass was grass, traffic or not, and he knew it. I grinned as I thought of that confrontation and the inevitable make up. My sister and her husband were more than entertaining to watch.

“Seth, this is incredible,” Jack complimented as he gave my father a congratulatory handshake and pat on the back. It was odd seeing someone close to my age act so informal with my dad. I knew they had worked a few jobs together but wasn’t sure how well they knew each other until now. If my father trusted him, then I trusted him. It was a simple decision.

Excusing myself, Jack gave me a distracted “Thank you for the tour” as I stepped away in search of medical help. I found her doing inventory in the supply closet. I looked around for a scorned Dean but could not find him.

“Dabas, heeelp,” I cried as she glanced at me with a look of alarm.

I stuck out my tongue, which I could tell was swelling, as she studied it with large eyes.

“What in the hell happened, Rose? So you had that much fun on your tour?” The tears fell fast as she chuckled then comforted me with a “Poor baby, I’ve got this.”

Later that night, after passing on dinner with Jack and the rest of my family to tend to my bruised ego and swollen tongue, I spent my time looking around my empty house.

“How much do you own?”

“All of it. As far as you can see.”

“It’s amazing.”

“Glad you like it because we’re going to build our house today, Rose.”

“What? I’m not qualified to do that!”

“Neither am I. We’re just daydreaming here.”

I had built the ranch home Grant and I dreamed up that beautiful day on our pond, the day when my heart had found its home. I surveyed the large kitchen and the extra living room. I was the lone occupant in a house that deserved a family. Despite my Dad’s protests to build something new, something different, I had insisted on building the exact home Grant and I had intended. And while I loved every square inch of it, it brought me little comfort. Honestly, it made me feel more alone.

My gaze drifted through the floor to ceiling windows onto the moonlit pond. I flipped the switch to the back porch, illuminating the large space with strategically placed lights. My back porch, along with the house, was nothing short of spectacular. The stone waterfall lit up at intervals in alternating shades of blue, the fire pit had never been use

d, and I couldn’t ever remember abusing the deck for a day in the sun. Sighing, I returned to my empty house, flipping the switch and ending my private party.

After draining a half bottle of white wine, I slipped into bed, thinking of Jack and his blue-gray eyes. Wincing at the twitch of my sore tongue, I remembered how quickly after I’d met him I’d made a fool of myself. It had felt foreign, but at the same time, it was good to be in a man’s arms again, even if it was only for a brief moment.

“I want you,” he said as water cascaded around his perfect features. “I’ve had enough years of doing the wrong shit and being with the wrong women. I took one look at you and a thousand memories we hadn’t made hit me in waves. I can’t explain it, and it may seem fast to you, but to me, it’s as natural as taking my next breath.”—Grant

“If a seventy-three-year-old man can swim the English Channel, you can get out of bed, Rose.”

Three days at the center. Three full days!

I sat up in bed and stretched my arms and legs, feeling fully rested. Ready to give Dallas a much-needed break, I rushed through a shower and threw on some shorts and an old t-shirt. I raced to my cart, eager to get to the center and to feel a little more involved in the goings-on and a little less guilty about my continued absence. I met Dallas at the double doors as she was walking out. She hooked her arm around mine and changed my direction as she pulled me toward the parking lot.

“Nope, not today or tomorrow. They’re delivering and installing all of the medical equipment, and it’s going to be way too crazy in there, even for us. Mom’s got the kids, and Dean and I are headed to Shreveport.”

“What?!”

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