Page 50 of Distant Shores (Stapled Magnolias #2)

IRELAND

M y board popped the curb, and I sucked in a breath as I bent my knees and corrected my positioning back onto the road.

After two nights of almost no sleep, I was struggling to keep my eyes open.

When I finally walked back into our house after my unexpected time away, Adair zeroed in on me from the living room, his cheeks flushing. They’d done that every time our eyes had met since he’d had his ten minutes, which hadn’t been very often.

We’d hardly had even five minutes in the same room since then.

He had a crocheted blanket strewn across his lap that spilled over onto the couch, and I only barely bit back a groan as I propped my board in the corner.

That was what was in one of the boxes Cole had brought with him and left in the living room: Crochet hooks and skeins of yarn in every color.

Adair’s crochet hooks and yarn.

It was too fucking much to handle, and all I wanted, despite my exhaustion, was to catalogue every inch of him. To make sure he was okay after not being able to see for myself for two long days.

Early Wednesday morning, I’d woken to a call from Nurse Emily that had dragged up anxieties that had only just started to mend.

“He okay?” Adair mouthed silently to me as he patted a distraught-looking Cole consolingly on the back. Cole was going back home to Georgia today and was apparently having a very hard time.

I nodded, then looked pointedly at Cole, mouthing back the same question.

Adair gave me a grim look before making one of those “so-so” motions with his free hand. I snorted, the stress from being back on a couch at Zinnia House and watching over Dad ebbing away from just that small interaction.

It’d only been a cold, but I’d seen too much at Zinnia House to trust even the most minor of sicknesses not to take horrible turns.

Before Dad’s cold, the first part of the week was busy too.

Ari had been in overdrive, sending emails at all hours and insisting on meeting all over the place, like doing itinerary planning while we sunbathed at the beach and applying for permits online over lunch at her favorite little seafood shack on the Coast.

But the most memorable meeting had been when her nephew Vinh finished the website. She’d invited me, Dad, and Pops to the Zinnia House theater, where the guys watched an old Western and bickered the entire time while we looked through the website on Adair’s laptop.

The easy way she’d become a big part of my life panicked me some, but there was no stopping it.

Cole let out a noise of distress, bringing me back to the moment just as Delly walked into the house, unclasping the chin strap of her helmet, and shaking her long hair out in the entryway.

She put her board beside mine by the door and smiled as she joined us in the living room.

“I love being able to ride back here for lunch.”

I edged away from her, and she frowned at me.

“Germs,” I explained.

She gave me a flat look. “You wouldn’t bother doing that if you saw the kind of things I came into contact with at work every day. Seriously.”

I shrugged. “Doesn’t seem worth the risk.”

Delly’s gaze bounced over the room, and something devilish took over her expression. “I think my brother would disagree. Look how sad he is.”

I glanced at Adair, but Cole sighed dramatically, drawing our attention before I could see what she meant.

“That’s because of me. He can’t take me leaving him, and I can’t either. Going back to the apartment, to Gary , it’s just… it’s too much.”

Adair loosely crossed his arms in front of him. “You have to work this weekend. You said so yourself.”

Cole frowned. “I’ll quit.”

“You’re a volunteer firefighter. That’s kinda wrong, man.”

“You’re wrong, man ,” he said with a scowl, then groaned. “Sorry, babe. I didn’t mean that.” Thankfully, he dropped the pitiful act and straightened his shoulders, looking around the room at all of us. “I really am sad about leaving. It’s been nice.”

“You’ll be back in a few weeks,” I pointed out, though why I was trying to comfort this grown man was a mystery.

Maybe it was because he’d texted me with updates on Adair’s healing while I was gone without me having to ask him to.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” he said with a sigh. “ Anyway—” He stood up from the couch, slapping his hands on his thighs. “I’d better hit the road. Y’all have kept me here long enough. Traffic is gonna be a nightmare.”

Delly huffed. “You are truly exhausting.”

Cole nodded seriously. “I know.”

As they stared each other down, I sought Adair again, but his neck was bent as he readjusted his pillow pile, hiding his features.

“Talk soon, Apple Jack,” Cole said, whatever was going on between them seeming to resolve as they hugged. “Text me if you think of anything you need from Georgia, and I’ll bring it back with me.”

She said something to him, but I was too caught up in looking at Adair, who had just straightened in his seat, to hear it.

I knew Cole was joking, but Adair did look sad.

His eyes were tired, and there was something defeated in his posture he was trying to hide by straightening his shoulders every few seconds, only for them to droop again.

Cole interrupted my perusal by issuing another round of hugs—which I politely declined—and then Delly walked him out.

When the door shut, Adair gave up the facade and slumped back onto the couch with a sad little exhale.

I took a step toward him, but then stopped myself. Clenching my fists in frustration, I turned on my heel, went into our bathroom, and grabbed the thermometer with a clean washcloth. My tired brain deemed that enough to keep the germs away, which was dumb, but if he had a fever, we needed to know.

When I returned, he’d sunk even lower into the couch, but the deep frown on his face turned into a surprised smile when I flung the thermometer at him.

He popped it into his mouth without protest .

That blue raspberry Dum Dum came to mind as I watched his lips, waiting for the beep.

His eyes flicked to mine across the room when it beeped, and he took it out to check out the number. “All good, Doctor Sewell.”

“Good.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. “Then what’s wrong?”

He dropped his head back against the couch cushion. “I’m just grumpy, Indigo. And bored.”

My skin prickled in a good way at the casual nickname. “How long before you can put weight on your foot?”

“I’m hoping to get the cast off next week. The repair was pretty minor. I only have a cast because I didn’t immobilize my foot last time.” He rolled his head back toward me, smiling slowly. “I think my doctor in Georgia tattled on me.”

My lips twitched. “Cole said your follow-up appointment yesterday went well.”

He dipped his chin. “It did.”

We looked at each other for a long time, taking each other’s measure.

“I missed you,” he said softly.

I leaned my head against the molding, taking in his heavy eyes and the stubble on his jaw that was more like a beard now. “I missed you too.”

“You look ready for a nap.”

I shrugged. “I could say the same about you.”

“Everyone seemed okay this morning?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Pops hasn’t caught it. He even went to the salon this morning for a haircut and mustache trim. Actually—” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. “I meant to send you a picture. Here it comes.”

He lifted his head off the cushion, looking at me seriously. “I love that you call him Pops now. ”

I tried to smile, but I was frozen by the sudden intensity in his gaze.

Mr. Smith becoming “Wilbur” was one thing.

Him becoming “Pops” to me was another.

There were few places I’d been more anxious than the nights I spent on the couch of Dad’s apartment when I first got him into Zinnia House in January. And even though it wasn’t the same couch as in Dad’s previous apartment, it’d felt the same.

In short, bad.

So, yeah, sleeping on that couch after weeks of having a real bed hadn’t done great things for my mental health, and getting close to more people had a baseline of dread simmering under my skin.

This man included.

His phone vibrated on the coffee table by his pillows, and he reached forward to open the photo I sent, smiling immediately when he saw it.

It was the first genuine, pointy-canine-revealing smile I’d seen since getting home.

“He does look sharp,” he said, his eyes roaming over the photo. He ran a hand unconsciously through his hair, his smile slipping away as his fingers got caught in tangles. “Maybe I should go to the Zinnia salon.”

“Meh. I like your hair.”

He locked his phone screen, darkening it, and looked up at me, completely guileless as he swept his eyes over my messy, damp hair and answered, “I like yours too.”

When his gaze became too much, I glanced around the house. “Any new care packages?

I may have casually mentioned his surgery to Miss Lenny when I ran into her on my way to see Dad. And just like I’d hoped she would, she’d rallied the troops, organizing several care packages for Adair and Delly—and Cole by extension—and a meal train.

Adair dropped his head back again, exposing the long column of his throat.

I didn’t know if it was the fatigue talking, but I kind of wanted to bite it. That intrusive whim wasn’t helped when his throat bobbed with a rough swallow before he answered.

“Yeah, one of Lenny’s ladies delivered a quiche this morning, still hot from the oven.

More bran muffins too. The ladies are really concerned about my digestive health.

” His chest shook as he laughed under his breath.

“Cole knows more of our neighbors than we do now. And I was just stuck here, watching as he flirted with every single person who came knocking. Honestly, I’m not sure the casseroles and treats were worth having to see all that. ”

A laugh escaped me, and he lifted his head back up, eyes bright as he looked at me.

“I take that back,” he said softly. “Feels worth it now.”