In conventional marriages, I’m wondering how appropriate it would be for the husband—that would be me—to walk up behind his gorgeous wife—that would be Regan—and take the plate from her hand.
Set it to the side.
Turn her in his arms and kiss the ever-loving hell out of her.
A kiss that would turn deep and sexual, which would lead to clothes coming off and a quick hard fuck with her bent over the kitchen table.
“Here you go,” Regan chirps as she sets the plate in front of me. I blink, having been lost in the fantasy, hoping to God she can’t see I’ve got a hard-on now. “What do you want to drink?”
“Um… water is fine,” I mutter, diverting my eyes to my food because no telling what expression I have on my face right now.
Regan brings me a water, fixes herself a plate, then sits on the opposite side of the table. We stare at each other a moment before she levels another overly bright smile at me. “Well, dig in.”
Food. Right.
When I put the knife to the pot roast, it falls apart, shredding with the slightest bit of contact. The steaming aroma hits my nose again, and I have a vivid flashback of mine and Regan’s families sitting down to this same exact meal for my birthday one year. I was about fourteen or fifteen, somewhere around there. My parents’ dining table only had seating for eight. There were nine of us in total, so we just pulled a kitchen chair in and Regan squeezed into the corner of the table since she was the smallest.
It’s a good memory, but it fades away as I take my first bite of the pot roast. It’s perfectly seasoned and tastes exactly like my mom’s. I’m touched Regan went to the trouble. She could have easily Googled a recipe, but she went the extra step to call up my mother, who I’m sure was all too thrilled to help her out.
“This is amazing, Regan,” I say as I use the edge of my fork to split a piece of potato in half. “Thank you.”
Shrugging, she spears a carrot. “It gave me something to do. I’m bored.”
“You’ll find something soon, I’m sure,” I reply. She’s used this week to put in applications to several medical facilities in the area. She’s being up front about starting school in the fall, so she’ll get passed up by companies needing committed, full-time nurses. “Were you able to set up your next treatment?”
“I’ve got an appointment with a case manager on Monday.”
“And then you’ll get your treatment?”
Another shrug while she pushes her food around on her plate. “Maybe. She said it could take some time to get through the approval process since I’m a new insurance subscriber.”
“How much time?” I ask, putting my fork down.
“A few weeks to a month.”
“Oh, hell no,” I exclaim, shaking my head. “You can’t wait that long.”
“Yeah, well… I’m sure the insurance company will jump on it faster since you say so,” Regan replies dryly.
“I’m coming to your appointment on Monday,” I say as I pick up my fork. “What time is it?”
“Nine,” she replies, eyes wide with surprise. “But you don’t need to. It’s just to go over forms and my history. Stuff like that.”
“I’m going.” My tone makes it clear I won’t be dissuaded. “I’m not going to let them sweep you under the rug. You’re getting your treatment next week.”
Regan’s mouth falls slightly open in shock. She wants to argue—I can see it in her eyes—but then she drops her gaze to her plate. Spearing another carrot, she pastes a resigned smile on her face. “How are Pepper and Charlie?” she asks.
I’d called Regan this morning on my way over to pick up Tacker at his place. Explained about everything that had been going on and told her I’d be out searching. She wanted to come and help, but I put her off, mainly because she’d be a distraction. I also wanted some alone time with Tacker to try to get him to open up on his own.
I’d called her once again when Pepper came out of surgery, then for a third time when Charlie had been rescued. She knows they’re both good, so she’s just trying to make conversation by steering us away from prior events.
But that’s fine by me. I’m not going to argue with her about whether I should come to her appointment on Monday. Regardless of the fact I’m her husband, I’m the man her brother trusted most in the world to look after her, so that’s exactly what I’m going to do.CHAPTER 13ReganThe knock at the front door has me springing from the couch where I’d been settled in with a glass of wine. I fling it open, then take in all that is Willow Monahan as she stands at the threshold.