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She was so fucking upset she didn’t register the endearment.
“It’s concrete,” she whispered.
“What?” he breathed.
“The bench. It’s concrete.”
“Then prepare for a Hulk-level smash,” he replied from behindgritted teeth.
That surprised her into a laugh. The sound relaxed his tense muscles a notch, but he stayed alert, battle-ready.
“This man was waiting in the lobby of the building,” she began, launching into an unexpected tale of a state investigator and accusations of insurance fraud.
Garrett processed it all in silence, tapping his fingers on his thigh. “This Folsom said he worked for the state?”
She lifted her hands. “He showed me a badge. Someone must have reported me. At least that’s what Kyle thinks.”
He scowled. “And you have to prove you don’t have money because you live with me?”
“I guess.” Emma sighed miserably. “How does a person even do that?”
“Bank statements, income tax records?” he guessed. “The state must have forensic accountants that would authenticate them.”
Garrett didn’t know much about the inner workings of California bureaucracy, not outside the areas where it intersected with his various business enterprises.
Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought he’d be wishing for expertise in health insurance of all things.
‘Health care for all’ is starting to sound better and better.
“They’re jumping the gun cutting off your insurance before their investigation is done,” he said with a scowl. “Your medical record alone should be sufficient to let you keep it.”
She looked at him with her heart in her eyes. “Do you think I could get the coverage I need throughDe Olla, even though I don’t work enough hours?”
Well, shit. “I’m sorry. I don’t think so. You see, I already spoke to Hector and we realized that’s not a viable route.”
He reached for her hand when her eyes welled with tears. “But I don’t want you to worry. Because there’s no fucking way I’ll let you go without the care you need.”
The tremor that passed through her was enough to get him mad all over again.
“I don’t want you to just pay for everything,” she said, wiping under her eyes. “I should have insurance. I need it.”
“I know, baby, I know.” He pulled her close again, squeezing her tight. “I’m going to make sure you get it. Hell, we’ll get married if we have to.”
Her breath puffed against his chest as she laughed. A small fist hit him in the back. “That’s not funny.”
“It wasn’t meant to be,” he said. “But don’t worry. I’ll find a solution—like switching jobs. Something great that will come with a fantastic health plan.”
She pulled away abruptly. “I have to stop working forDe Olla?”
Garrett showed her his teeth. “I don’t see a better path but give me a chance to ask–” he broke off and pressed his lips together when he realized he already knew an insurance expert.
Emma’s hand fisted in his shirt. “What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
She poked him. “Garrett.”
He let out a frustrated noise. “This isn’t a problem. It’s just that Fletcher is the guy who handles the nitty-gritty paperwork side, including the health plans.”