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"For defending me." I'd like to say I'm tough and could handle Cara, but that would be a lie in this situation. She wasn't Cara my friend and employee tonight, she's Cara, overprotective sister.
"You weren't going to say anything, were you?"
No. I wasn't. Cara's words were like piranhas, taking chunks out of me. But in the end, I wouldn't have said a thing. I wouldn't risk alienating her or making anything worse. I finally settle on, "She's your sister."
"Yeah, she's my sister. And she's wrong about you."
"Your opinion is the only one that matters," I tell her. Her look makes me laugh. "Okay. That's a lie. We're family and I care about everyone's opinion. But I'm willing to work on Cara. As long as you're still in this with me."
She sags, and leans in for a hug. "I'm still in this. I was afraid you'd..."
I press my lips to her hair, letting the weight of her settle my anxiety. "I'm not going anywhere. You know a lot about me, Bree, but you don't know this. I have never felt for anyone the way I feel for you. I'm not letting you go without a fight."
"Ditto," she mumbles nose first in my chest, making me laugh.
I let myself sink into her, letting our mouths rebuild the connection that was weakened in that room. Weakened, but nowhere near broken. Silence falls around us, the beeps of machines and the squeaking of passerby's shoes vanishing into the ether. Finally a particularly loud cart is wheeled by, and we pull apart with a laugh."Let's grab some food and drinks, and head back up. I don't want to miss anything."
"Kind of like a peace offering. I like it. We might have to throw Cara and Declan's at them though. I don't think we want to get in kicking distance of them right now."
Laughing because that image is funny as hell, and also because she's right. We move down the hallways in search of snacks. I've sighted a coffee shop when Bree pulls me to a stop. She's looking toward a small waiting area, empty except for one little old guy. He's rocking a ZZ Top beard, holding a coffee, looking completely lost in thought.
She takes a step toward him, then another. I go willingly because it's obvious she knows him. The waves of worry coming from her make me tighten my grip on her hand. She stops a few feet from him, but he doesn't move, his eyes still staring right through us.
"Wes," she says quietly, leaning down to pat his knee. He blinks slowly, then focuses on her, a small grin tipping his lips.
"Bree. What are you doing here?" He looks around like he's just realized where he is, then scoots over, patting the seat next to him. I let go of her hand and she sits. She puts her hand on his shoulder, rubbing lightly.
"My friend is having a baby. We thought we'd grab some food for everyone upstairs," she looks at me and a little pool of dread forms in my stomach. "Wes, why are you here? Your wife? Did she... is she..." Oh crap, this sweet little man lost his wife? How does Bree know him?
A slow, wide smile blooms on his face. "She's awake."
Bree shakes his shoulder, squealing in excitement. "Oh my god! Wes! That's amazing news. The doctors didn't think that was going to happen, did they?"
"Nope," he says with a shake of his head. "Said there weren’t much hope. But when you're my age, what else do I have but time and hope? I weren't going anywhere until my Lizzie came with me. One way or another."
Fuck. Those simple words are devastating, and he's so matter of fact about them. Either she was coming home with him alive, or she'd be in a box. I can't help but admire his devotion, but also, I'm freaked the fuck out at this visceral reminder that I don't have forever with Bree.
But I want it.
"Where is she now? How's she doing?" Bree asks, beaming at Wes.
"They moved her here to do some testing. She's not talking yet or recognizing people, so there's still a long row to hoe."
"But they're hopeful?"
"Fuck 'em," he mutters, taking a sip of his coffee and scowling. "It's cold. I hate cold coffee. Lizzie always packed me a thermos. Every morning, even when we sold the farm and moved into town. Sometimes I'd just drink it at home, sitting right there next to her."
"Why don't I grab you a fresh one," I offer.
He looks up at me, blinking slowly. "Shit, you're a big one. You Bree's?"
Laughing, Bree looks up at me, too. "You're right. He is big." Her smile softens and her eyes warm. "And yes, he's mine."
Wes turns calculating eyes on me. "He a good one? Do he treat you right?"
"He's the best."
"Good," Wes mutters, then pins me with a determined look. "Listen, kid. I don't know how you got lucky enough to land this girl, and it don't much matter. She's out of your league, and you need to understand that. My Lizzie is so far out of my league, nobody thought she'd pick me. But she did. And every day, I make sure she don't regret that decision. Everything I do is for her. Everything. And in return, she gives me the most beautiful life a man can have. You get me?"
