Page 47 of Tides Of Your Love (Riviera Shores #3)

Rio

IT TOOK ME A MOMENT to be sure I wasn’t dreaming him. His touch.

Opening my eyes and finding Owen there was almost too much to take in.

A cocktail of emotions ricocheted inside me—relief, disbelief, and love. So much love.

I was too groggy to fully grasp that he’d flown here even before he knew about Walter, too exhausted to ask why.

All that mattered was that he was here. And when he pulled me into his arms, I let myself sink into him, absorbing the strength in his hold, swathing myself in his warmth, his scent.

His steady heartbeat under my cheek soothed the raging turmoil inside me. A turmoil that had begun not just since he left. No—before that. From the moment he first arrived months ago. Maybe even before that.

I listened to his heartbeat. Held on. Told myself to not let go.

Time blurred. I had no idea how long we stayed like that, but at some point, I became aware of the world waking up around us—soft footsteps, the first chirps of birds, the low hum of traffic outside.

I opened my eyes to find the sky shifting from dull gray to pink.

Owen and I were cocooned together, a tangle of limbs. I had no idea where I ended and he began.

He stirred, and I could feel him inhaling the scent of my hair.

We straightened up.

“What time is it?” he rasped, barely opening his eyes as he stretched his arms back. “These chairs are worse than stadium seats.”

“Almost six,” I said, glaring at the wall clock I’d grown to hate during the night.

“I’ll get us coffee,” Owen said, already pushing to his feet.

“You haven’t told me why you’re here. In the States. Before—”

That familiar smile appeared. “I’ll tell you everything later. Coffee first. Then we’ll check on Walter, though they probably won’t let us in before the doctors’ rounds.”

My gaze followed him. I watched—how could he make standing in front of a vending machine in a hospital waiting room look sexy? One forearm braced against the machine, those jeans hugging his ass just right, the muscles shifting beneath his Henley.

“It looks crap, but we could use the caffeine,” he said, handing me a cup.

“I assure you, it is,” I murmured, my lips hovering over the edge .

Owen took a sip and grimaced. “Ugh.” He sank down beside me. “How do you feel?”

“Tired. Worried. So happy to see you.”

He cupped the side of my face, his smile tired but teasing. “I asked how you were feeling, not how I was feeling.”

I huffed a chuckle.

His gaze dropped to the brown water in his cup. “I should have been here.”

“You’re here now.” I laid a hand on his forearm.

He shook his head, lips pressing together like he appreciated the effort—but wasn’t buying it. “I saw him last night and felt so useless. The only thing I could do was be here, and I failed even at that.”

“Owen. Don’t.” The ‘O’ lingered in my throat like it had to carry the weight of everything I wanted to say. “You’re not failing anyone. Not now, not ever. You’re here, and that counts for more than you know. He’ll love seeing you.”

His eyes lifted to mine—storm-blue, raw. “I missed you, Rio Mio. You can’t even imagine.”

His hand traced from my cheek to my neck, down to my shoulder, like he needed the touch to convince himself I was real.

“I missed you, too.” It came out as a whisper. Words weren’t enough this time. They never would be.

The sky outside had brightened, and the hospital bustled with morning activity. We rose, tossed our cups, and headed toward the ward .

“The doctor will be here soon and we’re about to wake him. You’ll have to wait outside and we’ll call you when we’re ready,” a nurse told us.

We stepped back into the ward corridor.

“I’ll see you in a minute,” I said, pointing toward the restroom, the bad coffee pressing uncomfortably against my bladder.

“That coffee,” Owen muttered, following me as he disappeared into the men’s room on the other side of the hall.

A doctor emerged from Walter’s room fifteen minutes later.

I’d used the time till then to send updates to Ruby, Simon, Finn, and June, knowing they’d get them when it wasn’t an ungodly early hour.

I kept it brief—just the facts, just letting June know I needed someone to cover for me—but as I typed, I realized that my hands weren’t shaking like they had when I’d texted last night.

The doctor’s gaze shifted between us. “You’re the grandchildren?”

“Yes,” Owen replied, flashing me a small, quick smile.

“Walter is awake and seems to be doing well. The episode is behind him, but we’d like to keep him here for two more days to monitor him and ensure he’s stable. We’ll also discuss options for ongoing treatment in the community.”

“Can we see him?” Owen asked.

The doctor gestured toward the room.

Walter’s bed was slightly raised and fewer tubes were connected to him. The monitor next to his bed displayed steady waves.

“Grandpa.” Owen placed a hand over Walter’s .

Walter opened his eyes.

Tears clogged my throat.

“Owen,” Walter said in a hoarse voice.

Owen’s jaw tightened, his chest rising as he fought through an overcoming emotion.

“Rio,” Walter said, moving his gaze to me.

I smiled and nodded, afraid that if I opened my mouth, sobs would spill out instead of words.

“So, I’m not in hell,” Walter muttered. “If Rio’s here.”

Both Owen and I laughed, flooded with relief. Walter was Walter still.

“You thought I died, too?” Walter eyed Owen. “Not so fast, Son. My parents lived to be ninety-seven.”

“I’m glad to hear,” Owen said, squeezing his hand.

Walter’s gaze was sharp when he shifted to look at me again. “You look pale. Maybe they should get you a bed, too.”

I bent down and carefully hugged him. “We were so worried, Walter. Don’t ever do that to me again.”

“I’ll try,” he said as I straightened.

“So, you had to fly across the ocean just to check in on me?” Walter quipped at Owen.

I didn’t miss the way he squeezed Owen’s hand—his usual snark softened by small gestures that spoke louder than words.

“Something like that,” Owen said. “I wanted to see you both.”

It was the first time he’d admitted to Walter that there was something between us beyond friendship. I never told him that Walter had guessed it already. He chose to tell him. And that meant something—I wasn’t sure what yet, but we weren’t a secret anymore. This was real.

“You can tell Sir Whatshisname that—”

“Walter, we don’t want the monitor to start beeping, right? They’ll kick us out. Let’s leave all of that for later,” I said quickly.

“Fine, fine,” he muttered. Then, shifting his gaze to me, he added, “Water my plants, will you, Rio?”

“Of course.”

A nurse appeared behind us. “We need to serve breakfast now, so if you can please come back during visiting hours.” She had already started opening the curtains around the other beds.

“We’ll be back later,” Owen said. “Be good, yeah? Don’t raise hell for anyone.”

Walter smirked, then glanced at me, tipping his head toward Owen. “Wonder Boy is giving me instructions.” There was no snark in his tone this time, just warmth, like turning to me made it easier to hide the emotions he wasn’t ready to show Owen directly.

“Here’s your phone,” I said, placing it on his bed. “Finn brought your bag over last night.”

“Oh, he’s a good man. Tell him it’s not his fault my pulse decided to act up.”

Funny how he could voice appreciation for Finn so easily, but with Owen, it was harder—too real, too overwhelming.

I understood that feeling all too well.

We stepped out into the cool morning air, heading toward the parking lot .

“Meet you at the house?” I asked.

“Oh, right. Two cars.” He gave a small, tired smile. “Yeah. Meet you there.”

“Just don’t clog the lane with that monstrosity,” I teased, looking at the Range Rover, which was black this time.

Owen didn’t answer with words. Instead, he held my wrist, drew me closer, and wrapped me entirely in his arms before kissing me—right there, in the middle of the asphalt lot, between rows of parked cars.

We held each other tight for a long moment.

The taste of him, the feel of him—God. I didn’t care if he’d come back to stay or if he’d leave again. All that mattered was this. Him. Here. Now.