Page 34 of Unbreakable Bonds (The Boston Romance #2)

Heat crawls up my neck. "Dad, don't worry about that."

"Don't worry? How can you say that to me after what you just told us?"

"Jim, enough." Mom's voice carries that rare steel edge. "We need to trust our girl."

He grinds his teeth while maintaining his interrogation stare. "You better be telling us the truth, baby girl."

I step forward and place my hand on his arm. "Dad, I promise I'm telling the truth."

After a few moments of the dad stare-down, he lets out a massive huff. "Fine. But I'm telling you once more, Alisha. Never withhold this kind of information from us ever again. Is that clear?"

His stern gaze makes me cringe.

"I just didn't want to ruin your vacation. You two taught me to be strong when things get tough, and I did."

"Good lord, Alisha," Dad's voice cracks. "That doesn't count if you're hurt and lying in the hospital. We are your parents. Knowing that we weren't there when you needed us the most is breaking my heart."

My breath catches—I've never seen him this emotional. He pulls me into a bear hug and murmurs, "You are our miracle, Alisha."

The sizable lump in my throat hinders me from speaking, so I nod and return the gesture.

I glance at Mom, who's wiping away tears.

They are the most amazing parents one could have.

I've never felt so special to call myself a miracle, but I understand why they say I am.

During a check-up, the doctors told my parents Dad's swimmers weren't potent enough, and the chance of them conceiving naturally would be slim to none.

A year later, they were shocked when Mom found out she was pregnant.

After I was born, they tried for a second child, but it never happened.

"I love you, Dad."

"Oh, I love you too, sweetheart."

Mom joins our hug. "We love you, Alisha. And we're here for you if you need us, honey."

"Thanks, Mom."

* * *

Sunlight hits my retinas as my eyelids flutter open.

Oh, god. Is it morning already? I brush my hands over my face and grunt.

I'd been tossing and turning the entire night, waking up because I thought I smelled Cole's cologne or heard him say my name in that profound sexy way that makes my toes curl.

Even without him being physically close, he haunts me in my dreams.

I push myself up and grab my phone. 11:00 a.m. I slide my legs over the edge of my childhood bed and smile as I walk to the sizable picture frame with photos of myself at different ages. Each image shows a different stylish outfit—I've always loved fashion.

I slip into the navy blue halter jumpsuit with lace in the front that I brought with me and pull my hair into a low ponytail.

After applying some soft matte red lipstick, I slip my feet into comfortable leather shoes with two-inch heels.

The familiar routine grounds me, helps push thoughts of Cole aside.

Downstairs, I find Mom in the kitchen, washing apples from the garden.

"Good morning, sweetheart. Did you sleep okay?"

I drop into a chair at the table, fighting a yawn.

Mom chuckles as she sees my face. "You're still not a morning person." After finishing her chore, she places a cup of coffee in front of me and takes the seat next to mine.

"Where's Dad?"

"He's gone for a run. You know how he needs his workout in the morning."

"Yeah." I squeeze my legs together when my mind fills with images of Cole working out.

I lick my lips, remembering him with low-hanging sweatpants that I wish would drop even lower.

My panties dampen thinking about his ripped muscles and broad chest covered in a sheen of delicious sweat. Fuck, stop thinking about him.

"Are you okay, honey?" Mom asks. "You look a bit flustered."

I clear my throat. "I'm fine."

"So tell me, sweetheart," she starts, flashing me the type of grin that says she's about to ask something she already knows the answer to. "Are you seeing someone?"

I stare at my coffee cup, tracing the edges with my index finger. "Hm, I don't know."

"Okay, let me rephrase that. Is there a man in your life that you're interested in?"

I keep studying my fingers, but heat creeps up my neck.

"Is it that man you mentioned yesterday?"

"God, is it that obvious?" I mumble, placing my hand in front of my face.

Mom chuckles. "Oh, honey, I'm sure your father didn't notice it. But when you mentioned him yesterday, I saw something in your eyes that makes me believe he's different. Tell me something about him."

Just when I want to explain, the doorbell rings. While Mom walks out of the kitchen, I take a sip of my caffeine booster and check my phone. No missed messages. I sigh. What do I expect? I asked for space, so why am I sad that he didn't contact me?

Suddenly, two hands touch my shoulders. Panic shoots through me as it launches me back to my attack.

But instead of curling into a ball, I jab my elbow back, and it connects with something hard.

The hands disappear, and I take this opportunity to spring to the other side of the kitchen.

When I turn, my mouth drops as I see the grunting man behind the chair. He's bent over, rubbing his diaphragm.

"Damn, you've got power in that elbow of yours, Queenie."

"Oh, my god! Steven? What are you doing here?"

He straightens and grins. "I think the same as you are doing. Visiting my parents. I ran into your father outside, and when he mentioned you were here, I thought let's say hello and ask if you wanted to join me on a walk. Like old times."

My sweaty father strolls into the kitchen, followed by my mother, who glances at Steven with admiration.

I can't blame her—Steven has changed in the seven years since I last saw him.

My childhood neighbor turned into quite the catch.

Standing around six feet tall with dark brown hair cut in a taper fade, his clean-shaven oval face shows off a smooth jawline.

His hazel eyes could make a girl feel special when they focus on you, and his slim-fit jeans, sneakers, and tight black v-neck t-shirt show off a fit, healthy body.

"So what do you say? Do you want to get some exercise and catch up?" Steven asks.

I stand up and send him a smile. "Sure. I can use some fresh air."

I love the smell of freshly mowed grass and pine trees. The difference between Boston's air and here is stark. Don't get me wrong—I cherish the city's buzz, but being here reminds me how nice it is to have space, trees, and nature surrounding your home.

"I'm still amazed that you walked five K in heels," Steven says, pointing to my feet.

I chuckle. "Oh, this is nothing for me. I'm used to wearing much higher heels."

"Wouldn't mind seeing that. All I see on a workday in the ER are people wearing Crocs and scrubs. So taking a walk and talking to a gorgeous woman like yourself is a bonus. I enjoyed talking to you, Alisha."

"Me too. It was nice catching up."

"Then... how about we go out for dinner soon and talk some more?"

I stop, and when I glance at him, he sends me a smile that would make most girls melt. But it doesn't affect me. Why can't I just say yes? This is such a handsome man. And he saves lives for a living.

"Oh, come on, Queenie," he adds, now wiggling his brows and showing off his perfect white teeth. "Just dinner, nothing more." He takes my hands and squeezes them.

"Steven, I..."

The sound of squealing tires from a car hitting its brakes next to us makes me jump and turn. My eyes jolt to the vehicle, and I gasp, seeing the familiar black Range Rover Velar with tinted glass. No, it can't be...

The driver's door opens, and my heart bounces against my ribs as the towering man steps out. As he comes our way, his gaze locks with mine, and it isn't until he stops in front of us that I find my voice.

"Cole? What are you doing here?"

His jaw is set in that way that means trouble, and his eyes—those piercing blue eyes I've missed so much—are fixed on where Steven's hands still hold mine. The tension rolling off him is almost visible.

Oh shit.