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CHAPTER

THIRTY-SEVEN

AMBER

By the time Bruce leaves, it’s well after lunch. He’s quite the character, and he talks a lot. I know Ford loves his teammates, but he seemed irritated during the entire visit. Like a big angry bird ruffling his feathers.

After I’ve put Nella down for her afternoon nap, I head to our room to check my phone. It’s been such a busy morning, and I didn’t give it a second thought. Until I enter the room, and Ford is sitting on my side of the bed, looking like a child about to be chastised. I’ve seen that look before—when he was a boy. But it’s always been for teachers, or his parents. Never me. I don’t like it.

“I looked at your phone,” he blurts, telling on himself. Ford runs a hand through his short hair. “I picked it up to give it to you, but saw texts from Theo. I’m sorry for invading your privacy.”

My eyebrows shoot up. Not at Ford for reading my messages—I couldn’t care less about that. He can dig through my whole phone if he wants to, but he’s just going to find a bunch of balayage hair color videos I’ve saved.

What alarms me is that Theo texted me. My blood turns cold at that name. I have zero feelings for the man anymore, but what if this is something about Nella?

I rush toward my phone and tap the screen to pull up the texts and take a moment to read them. I gasp at his comments, covering my hand with my mouth.

Ford stands, his face as dreary as a sad puppy. Realizing I never responded to his apology, I place a hand on his forearm. “Ford, it’s okay. I have nothing to hide. I’m just in shock that Theo texted after a year of silence.” I shake my head, dropping my hand and letting it fall at my side.

Ford exhales a breath, probably relieved that I’m not mad at him, then he asks, “You saw his mom?”

“After Thanksgiving,” I admit. “I’d completely forgotten about it. I ran into her in the grocery store, and she was pretty stunned to see Nella. It looked like she was doing the math in her head. But then she rushed off and I never heard another thing from her—or Theo.” I slump down on the bed. “Until now.”

Ford sits down beside me, but he doesn’t crowd me. He’s good at giving people space, since he needs space himself. “He’s still a prick.”

I huff a humorless laugh. “Yep.”

“What do you want to do? Do you want Nella to know them?” he asks softly, and I look up, meeting his eyes. There’s no judgment on his face. I know he’d support me either way.

I groan. “I don’t know. I’d hate for her to not know them if she wants to, but she’s not old enough to tell me, obviously. Selfishly, I want nothing to do with them. His mother wasn’t very friendly to me, and Theo left me.” Tossing my phone onto the bed, I lean forward with my elbows on my knees. “I need some time to think about it. His tone doesn’t make me want to hurry to respond.”

“I could throttle him for talking to you like that.” Ford’s voice is rough. I glance at his profile and see he’s clenching his jaw.

I place my hand on his thigh and offer him a sad smile. This is my issue to deal with, and I don’t want my drama affecting him. That wouldn’t be fair.

His jaw flexes, but he rests his warm hand on top of mine.

“I’m sorry. I feel like we’ve turned your life into a living, breathing tornado.”

He looks at me, his brown eyes locking with mine. “Thankfully, I’ve always liked storms.”

Unable to hold back, I throw my arms around his neck and hold on tight. If there’s going to be a storm, I wouldn’t want to weather it with anyone else.

Two days later, I have a follow-up appointment with my cardiologist. Ford had to be at practice, and Sally stayed home with Nella. So, it’s just Farrah and me in the waiting room. She came along because someone had to drive me here since I’m not cleared to drive yet. Hopefully, today I’ll be cleared for all normal activities and can start seriously looking for a job and childcare.

A nurse opens the door to the waiting room and studies her clipboard. “Mrs. Remington?”

My heart flutters at the name, and I stand. “That’s me.”

Farrah winks at me, grabbing a cooking magazine and making herself comfortable in the waiting room chair.

The nurse leads me to the same room where I had my preop appointment. She takes my vitals and asks me some questions. Her questions make me nervous, but after listening to my heart rate she smiles and says it sounds great.

She leaves and my cardiologist, Dr. Montgomery, enters shortly after. “You’re looking great, Amber. Healthy and happy,” she says, tugging her stethoscope up to her ears. She gets right to work listening to my heart and nodding her approval at what she hears.

I release a deep breath. I didn’t realize I was even holding my breath, and Dr. Montgomery chuckles at the sound.

A nurse comes in and hooks me up for an EKG, just to make sure everything is good to go. Dr. Montgomery stays in the room with the nurse, and they seem pleased with whatever the EKG is showing.

“You’re recovering well, and your heart rate sounds perfect. You can rest easy now, okay?” She smiles, draping her stethoscope across the back of her neck. “Have you experienced any dizziness or blurred vision?”

“Nope,” I answer. “I’ve felt great except for the soreness where the incision is.”

She nods. “Yes, that’s to be expected. Do you need more pain medication?”

“No, I’m doing okay with Tylenol.”

She takes a seat on her roller-stool, the one they seem to have in every doctor’s office. “I think you’re free to resume regular activities. Driving, working, sex.”

I blink and I know my cheeks must be bright red.

She looks away, probably noting my embarrassment. Dr. Montgomery types some notes on the computer resting on the small desk.

Finally, she turns back to me. “Do you have any questions or concerns?”

I shrug. “Not really.”

“Well, stop at the front desk to schedule a three-month checkup, and don’t hesitate to call if you’re having dizzy spells or chest pain, okay?”

I nod quickly. “All right. Well, thanks for fixing my heart,” I say, not knowing how to leave this appointment. It feels oddly anticlimactic to see the doctor who fixed my heart a week ago, just to be told I’m healthy now and to call if I think I might be dying or whatever.

Dr. Montgomery chuckles. “Just doing my job.”

Once Farrah and I walk outside to the parking lot, I hold out my hand for the keys. She reluctantly hands them over—she’s a big fan of my fancy new truck. But she can’t park it any better than I can. I hold back a laugh when said truck comes into view, and it’s nearly taking up two parking spots.

I unlock the large vehicle, and the built-in step stool folds out like magic. I step up and into the truck and Farrah bursts into laughter. I grin, loving the sound. Her laugh sounds like the more feminine version of Ford’s.

“You’re so tiny. It looks hilarious to watch you get in the driver’s seat of this thing. Like a toddler wearing their parent’s shoes.”

I shoot her a mock glare when she slides into the passenger seat. She’s taller than me by a few inches, but not nearly as tall as Colby’s fiancée, Noel. “I’ll have you know I’m the average height for a female.”

She snickers. “With heels on?”

My jaw drops. “I liked you better when I was still healing and you felt sorry for me. Now I’m cleared for driving, and you’re meaner than a chihuahua chasing a delivery man.”

“How dare you compare me to a chihuahua! Are they even real dogs? Or do they qualify as cats?”

“I think that question is offensive to cats everywhere,” I retort, starting the truck and backing out of the parking spot.

Driving feels natural, even though it’s been a few weeks. The skin on my wrist that’s still tender pulls a little when I turn the steering wheel, but it’s not bad. “That reminds me. I want to get Ford a dog. ”

“I’d love to see him with another dog. He loved Moose so much.”

“I remember watching them together and thinking about how calm Ford was around him. I know he doesn’t need that kind of support anymore, but I still think he’d enjoy having a dog around.”

“You’re his Moose now.” She glances at me as I drive. “You calm him, make him better. I think you always have.”

I preen at her compliment. I don’t think Ford needs me like that, but it’s nice to hear all the same.

“He said we could talk about a dog once I had recovered. I want to find a job and start working again first—one thing at a time.” I sigh. “I’d hate to get a puppy just to have to kennel the poor thing while I’m at work.”

Farrah crosses her legs then steeples her hands on her knee, looking thoughtful. A light turns red, and I bring the truck to a stop, giving Farrah my full attention. “What?”

She bites her bottom lip, like she’s unsure she wants to say what’s on her mind. “When you go back to work, you’ll have a nanny?”

I nod, turning my gaze back to the light, which turns green. I gently press the gas pedal, and the engine roars to life again. “Yes, I need to sit down with your brother and discuss all that.”

“What if I was Nella’s nanny?”

My eyes widen, and I look at her briefly before turning back toward the road. “What about your job in Ohio?”

She grimaces. “I quit right before I came out here with Mom.”

“Farrah Remington, you’re full of secrets.”

She groans. “Ugh. I know. I need to come clean to Mom and Ford—to everyone. But everything’s been so busy, and I haven’t found the right time. ”

I offer her a soft smile. “Sometimes we have to make the right time. I’d love for you to be Nella’s nanny, but I can’t say yes or no without Ford knowing about any of it.”

“Okay, I’ll tell everyone, I promise.” She hedges, toying with a hole in her jeans. “But if I was the nanny, I could take care of the puppy too.”

“Farrah,” I warn. “Talk to your brother.”

“Fine.”