hint.
He didn’t. He stood with one leg cocked sideways as if waiting on an
invitation to stay. “Wanna get some dinner? They got chili burgers on
the special at Pokey Slims tonight.”
Pokey Slims was a biker bar on the other side of town. Lots of beer
drinking, tattooed men and cigarette smoke. “No, thanks. I’m exhausted.”
She yawned again, making a ceremony out of the movement. She really was
tired, she realized. Wrecking cars and holding conversation with Thomas
had completely drained
her. “But thanks for bringing in the chest. I’d really like to just kick
back and go to bed.”
A lazy grin curled his mouth. “Sounds good to me. I could rub your back.”
Rebecca silently chided herself for stepping into that one. Why did the
one man she didn’t want fawn all over her, and the one she did barely
notice her?
Oh, he noticed you tonight, Bee. How could he miss when you smashed his
eighty-five-thousand-dollar car? Or before that, when you almost ran
over him? Or when you almost ran off the road into the hollow and killed
him?
“Not tonight, Jerry. I don’t want to keep you from your dinner plans.”
“Uh, yeah.” He rubbed his protruding belly. “I am kind of hungry. A man
can’t go without his food. And Pokey makes the best onion rings this
side of the Chattahoochee.” He slapped his chest. “Gives me gas, but all
good things come with a price, right?”
“Right.” She smiled sweetly, pushing images of him and chili and greasy
onion rings out of her mind.
He dragged his feet toward the door. “Just let me know when you want to
take a spin on my Hog, baby.”
“I’m not really a Harley girl.” Not that he actually had a Harley,
anyway, although he told everyone he did; he had an imitation Harley.
He whistled through his teeth. “Just call me if you need anything.”
Rebecca nodded and locked the door behind him, then changed into flannel
pajamas. She did have several bruises on her chest, the skin was already
turning an ugly purple. With a cup of hot chocolate in hand,
she headed toward her bed when the hope chest drew her eye, beckoning
her as if it had some kind of hypnotic spell on her.
Her heart fluttered with a tiny seed of hope. Hope that marriage and
babies might be in her future. Curiosity gnawed at her, too, drawing her
closer until she knelt beside the wooden chest.
Hannah and Mimi and Alison claimed their hope chests had held magical
secrets regarding their futures. That the items Grammy Rose placed
inside had something to do with the men they would marry.
Was there something inside her chest that hinted about a new man coming
into her life? Something that would convince her that love would find
its way into her future?
Thomas had barely fallen asleep when the phone rang.
“This is Terrence McGee, Dr. Emerson.” The man’s breath sounded shaky.
“I think Nora’s in labor. “
Thomas ran a hand through his hair and sat up. Nora was two weeks
overdue, so her husband was most likely right. “She’s having contractions?”
“Yeah, but they’re not regular. Says her back’s hurting.”
“Back labor,” Thomas said. And this was her third child so it would
probably come quickly. “Get her to the hospital, Terrence. I’ll meet you
there.”
“Her feet’re swollen twice the normal size, Doc, and she says she’s
dizzy. I’m worried.”
“She’ll be fine.” Thomas forced a calm to his voice that he didn’t feel.
“Just get her to the hospital and
we’ll take care of her and the baby. Everything will be all right.”
He hung up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed his
clothes. No time for a shower, so he jerked on khakis and socks, then
hurried to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. He didn’t
want the McGee baby making its entrance without him. According to her
file, Nora had had complications with the other two births. He sure as
hell hoped this one went
Hundreds of Years to Reform a Rake