Page 9 of Claiming Ours (Anchor Bay #2)

As if sensing I needed a distraction, Jubie barked and leapt from the exam table, enormous paws slapping to the floor before padding over to the closed door.

I gestured to her with the chart. “I think that’s her saying she’s ready to go home.” Stepping back, I gave Aiden a soft smile. “I’m sure I’ll see you guys around later tonight. Let Miles know if he has questions about Jubie, he can call me.”

Opening the chart, I laid it on the counter and pulled out a pen to write my notes from the procedure, more to have something to do than needing the documentation. My practice wasn’t large, so I remembered everything regarding my patients and their care.

“Just do me a favor, Baylee.” I glanced over my shoulder with an arched brow. “Don’t let your past take away the future you have ahead of you. I’ve stayed in that kind of purgatory before and know it’s hard to find your way out.”

“How did you?” I asked before I could think better of it.

“I followed the light that stumbled into my life.” His gaze went unfocused as he smiled. “And she’s been guiding me and walking beside me ever since.”

I swallowed hard. “Aspen is a lucky woman to have you, Aiden. Both you and Miles.”

He shook his head and ran a hand through his longish hair. “Nah, we’re lucky to have found each other. Just don’t overlook all the people willing to be that guiding light for you, Baylee. We’re here, all of us, day or night. We’re a family, and that’s what families do.”

With a forced smile and nod, I waved them out the door, his words running on a loop in my mind.

Tapping the laptop to bring it to life, I checked the fancy scheduling system that Juno added to the website she built me one night after realizing I didn’t have one.

Who knew too many glasses of cheap wine at book club would turn my small practice into something that now covered the more remote towns close to Anchor Bay?

My schedule wasn’t booked solid, but more and more new patients and appointments popped up every day.

Noting that Jubie was the last patient despite it only being a little past one in the afternoon, I closed the laptop, tucked it under my arm, and exited the exam room to pack up for the day.

I plopped down into the uncomfortable chair in my office and slid my phone out of the side pocket of my navy scrubs.

Twenty missed calls from a blocked number.

My stomach dropped with dread. The strange, unnerving calls started a few months ago, only one a week then, but recently had escalated to dozens a day.

If I picked up, the person on the other end of the line didn’t utter a word.

The only sound heavy breathing, the caller’s anger almost palpable with each breath.

I didn’t who the calls were from or what the hell it meant. Until I did, I had convinced myself there was no reason to tell Liam or any of the other overprotective men in my life. They would just blow it all out of proportion, especially considering everything going on around Anchor Bay.

I wasn’t worried or scared, not really—more confused and curious.

Shaking my head to redirect my thoughts back to my real issues, I cleared the missed calls and few voicemails without listening to them, knowing it would only be the enraged heavy breathing, and slouched back in the chair staring at the now blank screen.

Aiden’s words ran on a loop, urging me to take his earlier advice.

Something needed to change in my life, because I couldn’t live like this anymore. I wanted to be free, wanted to live.

Saying yes to Liam when he asked me out was that first step; now I just had to keep moving forward and not let my past hold me back.

Mind made up, I opened the messaging app and pulled up the most recent text from Liam.

Me: Hey, you free later?

Liam: For you, always. Everything okay?

How the hell did I answer that? Physically, yes. Emotionally, fuck if I knew.

Apparently, I took too long to respond, because Liam’s next texts came through rapid-fire.

Liam: Answer me, Baylee.

Liam: Are you hurt? Where are you?

Liam: Fuck, please write me back, Little Bit.

My heart clenched at the clear worry in his messages.

Me: Calm down, big guy, I’m fine. Just wanted to see if you were free to talk later.

The little bubble popped up and disappeared several times before the message came through.

Liam: Your place or mine?

Me: Yours.

Me: I’ll get cleaned up after work, then head over. Sound good?

Liam: I’ll make dinner. Chicken or beef?

I bit the corner of my lip as I smiled at my phone.

His obsession with feeding me should put me off, but instead I found it endearing.

Not that he found me lacking because of my slight weight and nonexistent curves but because he was worried about me.

Honestly, sometimes when I looked in the mirror and saw how much weight I’d lost, I worried about me too.

After responding to Liam, I set the phone down and twisted the chair side to side, deep in contemplation. If I really planned to have the much-needed awkward conversation with him tonight, push myself past my comfort zone, I needed a solid plan.

The problem was, I did not know where to start.

Good thing I knew someone, or a few someones, who could help.

Almost thirty minutes later, still in scrubs but having changed into a clean pair that didn’t have a layer of Jubie fur, I stood outside our favorite local dive bar, Dave’s, which had the best Alaskan beers on draft and the most delicious nachos ever.

My stomach growled as I tugged open the heavy, weathered wooden door, the scents of fried food and beer immediately wafting over me.

Just before I stepped over the threshold, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as an unsettled feeling raced down my spine.

Palm sealed to the center of the door to keep it open, I turned, scanning the sidewalk for what set me on edge, but noticed nothing out of the ordinary.

As if knowing I was unsettled, my watch vibrated with an incoming unknown call, amplifying my paranoia.

Blowing out a calming breath, I ignored the call, shrugged off the sensation of being watched, and stepped into Dave’s, immediately spotting my friends toward the back corner, already seated around a table.

Weaving through the few high-tops, I waved at Finley, whose hand shook wildly in the air to draw my attention.

“I’ve already figured it out. You’re pregnant,” she said smugly and high-fived herself.

I froze halfway between standing and sitting in one of the open wooden chairs to gape at her. “Um, what?” I fell the rest of the way into the seat and dropped my backpack to the floor.

Finley nodded and pointed at me. “I knew it. You’re not denying it.

” She swung her gaze across the table to Aspen and Juno, who didn’t look convinced.

To my right, Amy, Brandon’s wife, tried to muffle her laughter behind a loose fist. “Told you that was the reason for the emergency book club meeting.”

“I’m… what? Finley, what the actual fuck? Do I look pregnant?” I shrieked while patting my stomach and pulling the scrub top tighter.

Her wide smile faded.

I waved off her panicked expression, knowing she meant nothing by her very inaccurate guess for my 911 text. “No, fuck, I’m not pregnant. No way for me to be,” I grumbled at the end, not expecting anyone to hear me.

But Amy must have by the way she snorted into her pint glass.

“Give her a second to breathe, Finley, for fuck’s sake.

She doesn’t even have a drink yet.” She eyed me before nodding at whatever she’d just decided in her head.

“I have a feeling a round of duck fart shots is in order for whatever this is all about.”

I started to protest, but she’d already pushed back from the table with a determined expression, and I knew any effort to stop the upcoming shots would be futile. With a groan, I massaged both temples, wondering if I’d only made everything worse by reaching out to them.

“Okay, Baylee,” Aspen said, folding both arms on the table. “Calista can’t be here, something about not having a babysitter and not wanting to bring a kid to a bar. So, with us all here who answered the emergency call, this book club meeting is now in session. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know where to start,” I complained, suddenly nervous.

Not once since I moved here had I really opened up about my life before Anchor Bay.

Sure, the women around the table and the guys in our community knew of Dean, that he was my fiancé and died in combat, but that was it.

It wasn’t until talking with Aiden today that I realized keeping all my worries, fears, and confusing emotions inside was actually doing me more harm than good.

I knew these women, trusted them. Not a single one around the table would judge or gossip about me. We were family at this point, and I needed to lean on them for support if I had any hope of surviving.

“Then start from the beginning.” Five full shot glasses were carefully placed in the middle of the scuffed wooden table. Grabbing one, Amy motioned for the rest of us to follow suit. After tapping the rim of her glass with all of ours, she pressed the edge to her lips and tossed it back.

Knowing this was a terrible decision but doing it anyway, I downed my shot, wiping the remnants from my lips and using the few moments while the others did the same to get my chaotic thoughts together.

“I knew I wanted to marry Dean the moment I saw him,” I said, staring at the empty glass twirling along the table as I twisted it between my fingers.

“We were just stupid kids at the time, but I still knew he was it for me. But….” I grabbed Amy’s half-full pint glass and took a sip, knowing she wouldn’t mind.

“I also wanted to go to college to one day become a vet. From my first pet, I knew that was what I wanted to be, and I also knew it would take years to reach my goal.”