Page 27 of Beating Heart
eight
. . .
Emerson
Small towns were complicated in the strangest way. There was an easiness when you lived in a place where everyone knew one another.
You felt safe.
Protected.
Everyone looked out for one another.
It was nothing like the city. The hustle and bustle. Bumping shoulders as you passed on a crowded street. Horns honking and noise surrounding you at all times.
But Doc Dolby calling me long after I’d taken my bath and settled on the couch with the new book I’d picked up from the cutest bookstore in town, Love Ever After, had caught me off guard. He’d asked me if I had Gatorade in case Cutler woke up during the night, and this was definitely a small-town thing.
No one in the city would request this.
They’d DoorDash or Uber Eats it. Or there was always Amazon Prime. You could have drinks, snacks, and over-the-counter medication at your door within an hour. You didn’t rely on the kindness of your neighbors because you barely knew them.
But what was I going to say? No? Of course not. I was always prepared for what could happen.
Vomiting and puking—I had plenty of hydration liquids stocked in my pantry.
Headaches—I was well stocked with migraine meds and chocolate.
Periods—I always kept plenty of tampons and pads in my bathroom.
I had clothing for every kind of weather that could come my way. I’d always been this way. So, of course, I had Gatorade to spare.
It was my job, for God’s sake.
But was I prepared to see Nash standing there with his muscled bare chest for a second time? To get a real up-close view of that deep V that led down to his happy trail?
Hells to the no.
I’d been engaged to a man who had been in fabulous shape, but he didn’t look like this. Nash was masculine and manly.
And ridiculously sexy.
It should be illegal to look this good.
Collin worked out hard; his entire body was waxed and free of any hair. And he loved to flex as he looked at himself in the mirror. It was a different vibe. Not to mention the fact that our sex life had sucked for the past year, but it all made sense now.
How ravenous could he be with his fiancée when he was banging her maid of honor on the side?
All the puzzle pieces had fallen together.
“Are you all right?” he asked, with a light chuckle as he leaned against the doorframe. One arm up, abs on full display, and a wicked grin on his face.
My eyes snapped back up when I realized I’d been caught staring. “Am I all right? Of course, I’m all right. Why wouldn’t I be all right? Are you all right? You’re the one with a sick kid. I’m just the neighbor, relaxing at home. I’m good. No. I’m great.”
Dear God. Please make it stop.
This was what I did when I was nervous. I rambled. It was something that always annoyed Collin. He said it made me seem young and unprofessional. Apparently, I’d embarrassed him at a corporate dinner once, and he’d reminded me every time we went out with his work friends after that. He’d always say the same damn thing.
“Less is more. If you don’t have a sensible answer, just say nothing.”
