When It's Right Page 7

  “I know. I should too,” I reply, but I don’t move and I don’t want her to either. Her hair is creating a veil so I can’t see her face, so I reach out and let my fingers graze it in an attempt to brush it back. It feels incredible against my skin, but the contact causes her to step back. There are footsteps coming toward us, and we both look over as some executives march by.

  Sadie drops her gaze again to the floor, then leans down and picks up my phone. She seems to freeze for a second, her head looking toward the screen. Then she stands up and shoves it at me. Her shoulders are rigid, her expression tense.

  “I have a lot going on right now too. I’m sure you’ve heard my dad is dying,” she tells me as I take the phone from her. “And I am strong and wild just like you think I am. But not wild enough to date a married man and not strong enough to handle additional drama right now. Later, Griffin.”

  She pushes past me. I’m so stunned I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. I look down at the phone. The screen still has Lauren’s contact information showing. Lauren Sullivan.

  She must think I’m still married. That has to be why she’s been so cold. She must think that’s why I bailed on our date. Oh, God. I turn and watch her walking away. Maybe it’s better if she doesn’t know the truth. Telling her I’m divorced will serve no purpose except to open up a door I can’t bring myself to walk through right now. But…I hate lies…even if they seem to be helping a situation, they aren’t. I start to follow her down the hall.

  “Sadie,” I call out, but she doesn’t stop walking. I pick up my pace and catch her as she reaches the elevator bank and aggressively punches the button.

  I come to a stop in front of her, blocking her way to the elevator even if the doors open. “I’m divorced.”

  “That’s what any cheating guy would say.”

  I lift up my left hand for proof. “No ring.”

  She looks at it and then back at me. She bites her bottom lip as she thinks that over. “Cheaters take their rings off all the time and stick them in their pockets or whatever.”

  I lift both arms, holding them out like I’m getting ready for a pat-down. “Check my pockets. Frisk me. You won’t find a ring. I threw it in the ocean the day the divorce was final.”

  She blinks. “That’s dramatic.”

  “Divorces tend to get the emotions going pretty good.” I give her a quick, playful smile. “But please frisk me anyway. It’ll be the most action I’ve had in a long time.”

  She laughs. It’s such a great sound, and it knocks the tension right out of the space between us. The elevator dings, but she doesn’t get on. She just stares at me, smiling, while the doors close behind me. She bites her bottom lip. “I think I’m disappointed you’re not married.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if you’re not married, then that’s not why you canceled our date,” she confesses, and her cheeks start to turn pink. “The only other reason I can think of is that you just aren’t interested, which is totally your right but…sucks.”

  “That’s not true,” I reply and sigh. “You’re the only person I’ve been interested in since my divorce. All I’ve been doing is thinking about you.”

  The blush on her apple cheeks deepens. I take a step toward her, take her hand in mine and pull her to the side of the hall, out of view of anyone who might glance this way. I don’t want to be interrupted. “My divorce isn’t new, but it’s still complicated because we have a daughter. The most incredible little girl in the world. And as much as I can’t get you out of my head, and don’t want to, I need to focus on that right now.”

  I stop short of telling her the dirty details because I’m still processing them myself. And besides, she is going through a lot with her own family. I don’t need to dump my shit on her too.

  She nods slowly. “I understand putting family first more than anyone.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say in a low, rough voice still choked with attraction. I just admitted to her that I can’t be with her, but my body is still reacting to her. My pulse is galloping, my blood is getting warmer, and my dick is getting hard. I lick my lips, and her pretty eyes follow my tongue.

  “Don’t be,” she replies, but her voice lacks conviction. “It’s best for both of us if we don’t start something we can’t finish.”

  “Okay then,” I say and take a step back.

  She sighs and takes her own step back from me. “Thanks for being honest.”

  “Thanks for being understanding,” I reply.

  She starts to walk back to the elevator. I watch her punch the button, but then she slowly turns around to face me again.

  She takes a couple hesitant steps toward me, like she’s fighting her own actions. So I close the rest of the space between us. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking that even if nothing else can happen, that this should,” she says and then she puts a hand on my shoulder, lifts herself onto her toes, and presses her lips to mine.

  Her lips are soft and tentative, like she’s worried I might stop her. She doesn’t need to be. As soon as our mouths connect, I know I need this kiss as much as she does. I reach down and grip her hips, pulling her flush against me. Her body feels so good against mine I groan. Her arms wrap tightly around my neck, and as her lips part, my tongue slides against hers and everything inside me roars to life. Every second of the kiss is passionate, desperate, and perfect—but it’s over in an instant. We both pull back at the same time, and the startled look on my face is echoed in hers. She touches her lips with her fingertips. “I’ve never had a first and last kiss at the very same time.”

  “Neither have I,” I say as my pulse races.

  “I guess it makes it memorable.” She smiles, but it’s almost melancholy.

  “Even before that kiss, you, Sadie, are someone I could never forget.”

  The elevator doors open and she almost runs inside. She smiles at me as the doors start to close, and I fight every single muscle in my body to keep myself planted where I am and not follow her inside. But I have to let her go.

  8

  Sadie

  After dropping my dad off at his doctor’s appointment, I head over to the diner across the street and wait. He’s got to get a few tests done, and I know from experience, it’s easier both for the hospital and the patient not to have family hovering around.

  I sit at the counter, and while I wait for the waitress to notice me, someone else does—Dr. Luongo, who is sitting at the other end of the bar holding a menu. “Sadie! What a surprise. I thought it was your day off.”

  “Hi, Bob. It is my day off,” I explain and try not to look surprised he knows my schedule. “But my dad has to see Dr. Lack.”

  “You should probably just have your mail delivered to the hospital with the amount of time you spend here,” he quips. Sadly, he’s right. He points to the empty stool beside me. “May I join you?”

  “Of course,” I reply, and he walks over and sits beside me. “Are you on break?”

  “I’m grabbing lunch before I start my shift,” he says and lowers his voice to a whisper. “I’m not a great cook, so I eat here way more than I should.”

  “I don’t cook either,” I say with a sympathetic smile. “The last thing I want to do after a twelve-hour shift is stand around the kitchen for hours making something. I just want to stuff something down my throat and go to sleep.”

  He laughs. “Sounds like your life is as full and exciting as mine. My condolences.”

  The waitress comes over, and I order a latte and a piece of cherry pie, since I already ate at home and am just snacking to fill time. Bob orders an omelet and a double side of bacon. He catches the look on my face and winks. “I’m a neurologist, not a cardiologist.”

  I laugh and turn back to the waitress. “He’ll also have a vanilla latte, but put it on my bill.”

  He smiles. “You remembered.”

  We talk about work stuff for a few minutes while we wait for our food. And then we start talki
ng about our lives.

  “I know you’ve been in San Francisco for a while now, so I have to ask, are enjoying it?” he asks me with a friendly smile.

  “I love it here,” I tell him as the waitress brings us our lattes. “I loved living in Toronto, but now that I’m here, I don’t see myself moving back to Canada.”

  He lifts his latte. “Well, we’re lucky to have you.”

  He takes a sip and smiles. “It’s delicious. But you really didn’t have to buy it for me.”

  “It’s not a problem.”

  “So that goalie I treated is your brother-in-law?” he questions.

  “Sister’s live-in boyfriend, so close enough.” I watch him as he nods and sips his latte again. A little foam sticks to his lip, so he picks up his napkin and wipes it away. I don’t think anything of it. But I know if that was Griffin Sullivan I would want to lick it off his lip myself. It would be an instantaneous urge as soon as I saw it. Why can’t I feel that way about Bob? He seems to be interested.

  “Is he doing okay now?”

  “Yeah.” I nod as the waitress puts our food in front of us. “He’s been following up with the team doctor, and he’s cleared for practice and expects to be back in games soon.”

  His phone buzzes, and he pulls it out of his pocket and groans. “Shit. They need me in early for an emergency consult.”

  “Bummer,” I say, but I’m kind of glad. This feels kind of like an accidental date, and I don’t like it. I mean he’s nice and I like him, but I don’t want to lead him on.

  He asks the waitress for a to-go box and packages up the remainder of his meal. “Thanks again for the latte.”

  “My pleasure.”

  “I’d like to do this again sometime,” he says, and I start to panic. “Somewhere that isn’t fifty feet from work.”

  Sadie, come on. He’s the closest thing to a real-life McDreamy you’re ever going to find. He’s attractive and charming and despite the bacon-fest he ordered, he’s fit and everything like Griffin Sullivan, but he’s also the one thing Griffin isn’t: ready for something. You should totally say yes to him. Do it now.

  “I’m not dating right now,” I blurt and instantly feel relief. “I think you’re great, but I’ve got too much going on with my dad and I’m just not in the right place.”

  “Even for one date?”

  I nod. He looks disappointed. “I really hope this doesn’t make working together too weird.”

  “Of course not. I appreciate your honesty and understand where you’re coming from,” he assures me with an easy smile that seems genuine. “But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  He passes my mother on his way out without knowing it. He holds the door open for her as she comes in. She sees me and heads over, taking the stool Bob just vacated. “That was a handsome doctor.”

  “Yup,” I agree and sip my latte. “And he just asked me out.”

  “Really?” Her hazel eyes spark with excitement but dim again as soon as she sees my face. “You turned him down?”

  “Yup,” I say again and put down my now empty latte mug. “I wanted to force myself to say yes. He’s charming and good looking and everyone at the hospital likes him, so I know he’s a genuinely good guy. But…”

  My mom sighs, but it’s not in disappointment, it’s in solidarity. “The heart wants what the heart wants. And it doesn’t want the sensible choice.”

  I nod. “I mean not that there’s a choice. It’s basically Bob or nothing right now.”

  “That doesn’t mean it should be Bob,” she replies, and I’m so grateful she’s not one of those mothers who pushes her kids for husbands and babies. She reaches over and takes my fork, digging into the half-eaten cherry pie slice in front of me. I push it closer to her. “Your dad was the absolute worst choice ever.”

  She pops a forkful of pie into her mouth and chews while I laugh at that announcement. “He was just some random hottie I met on vacation. He didn’t live near me. He wasn’t in college. He literally lived in his parents’ basement. That’s like the kiss of death, even now.”

  “Hey, lady, back off. I live with my parents.”

  “Not in the basement, sweetheart,” she reminds me. “Anyway, I knew I was going to be considered crazy when I started dating him, but I couldn’t stop myself. He was so wrong, but yet so right.”

  “You two have ruined me forever,” I say to her in mock anger. “I mean how am I ever going to find a love story that great?”

  “Jude and Dixie both managed. You will too,” she replies. “I just hope Winnie can.”

  She looks genuinely concerned when she says that, and I wish I could make her feel better, but I’ve got nothing good to say when it comes to Winnie’s love life. I decide to change the subject. I pull out my phone and look at the time. “Dad should be done soon. Want to head over?”

  She nods. I pull my wallet out of my purse and leave some cash on the counter for my food and the coffees. We walk across the parking lot back to the hospital, and I realize how accurate Bob’s joke was. I spend way too much time here. It feels like I don’t do anything but deal with illness. So why can’t I talk myself into doing something more, like dating Bob?

  Because you’re still hung up on Griffin, I remind myself sternly. That kiss made you feel alive and incredible and made it impossible to forget him anytime soon…or maybe ever. So you screwed yourself because you’re going to have to forget him.

  We head up to neurology, and sure enough, Dad is waiting in the area outside Dr. Lack’s office. He smiles at us, but it isn’t relaxed and jovial like it should be. Mom bends down and kisses his cheek. Dr. Lack opens her office door. “Come in, everyone.”

  I feel like I’m going to the firing squad. Mom wheels Dad in, and I follow. Mom takes the chair, while Dr. Lack sits behind her desk and sighs. This isn’t good. She starts to tell us the test results. Dad’s mobility, muscle strength, swallowing, and breathing have all deteriorated from his last test three months ago.

  “Nothing extreme, except I’m a little worried about the swallowing and want to do a follow-up test much sooner than three months, say maybe in a month?” she explains. “And it’s definitely better to use the wheelchair as much as possible now.”

  I’m so glad I can’t see their faces, because I know my parents are devastated. This is really bad news. He’s quickly losing all the freedom he has left. But like always, my dad just nods stoically. Dr. Lack hands my mom a piece of paper. “I want to try this new prescription. It might help a little bit with muscle strength.”

  Again, Dad nods. “Thanks, Doc.”

  “See you in a month.”

  Mom gets up and wheels him out, and I follow. In the hall she puts on a brave face. It’s just about the only face I see lately. “I’m going to run to the pharmacy in the building and fill this now,” she says. “I’ll meet you two at the car.”

  “Sure thing, honey.” Dad nods, and I take over behind his chair. As we walk to the elevator bay and she heads the other way toward the emergency wing, he turns his head a little to look up at me. “Well, that sucked.”

  “Definitely,” I agree.

  We get in the elevator. He doesn’t say anything again until I’m wheeling him across the parking lot toward the car. “She’s crying right now.”

  “What? Why would you think that?”

  “Because I know Enid better than I know myself,” he says, and there’s such a deep sadness emanating from him it’s painful. “She cries every time we get bad news. She tries to hide it, but I know.”

  I help him stand up and then put the wheelchair in the trunk while he leans on the side of the car. I open the passenger door to their car and carefully help him in. It’s fairly easy right now because he still has some use of his legs and can balance a little bit. I say the first thing that always seems to come to my mind. “What can I do to help?”

  I stand in the open door as he fumbles for his seat belt, but I don’t help. He can still do this on his own, even
though it’s a struggle, and I don’t want to take it away from him. When he’s buckled up he looks me straight in the eye. “I asked Dr. Lack to share future test results with you first. You’re good at looking at this professionally, and I’m going to need you to help me ease them into accepting what’s coming.”

  “We all know how this ends, Dad,” I remind him softly. “Dixie works for the ALS Foundation. Jude has done more research that a neurology student and—”

  He holds up his hand so I stop mid-sentence, and then he reaches out and grabs my hand and gives it a small squeeze. “Pumpkin, we both know that knowing things figuratively and seeing them happen in reality are different. You’ve seen that yourself with patients’ families, I’m sure.”

  He’s right. I have. I’ve watched wives of brain-dead husbands try to rationalize that they only need more time. I’ve watched parents argue with doctors when they’re told their kids are gone. I’ve seen it all.

  “Sadie, I’m going to be making decisions that they won’t like, but I need you to stay strong and back me up. I need you on my side,” he tells me. “And to help them cope.”

  “Okay,” I say because I knew this day would come. I knew he’d need to count on me. He’s been the person I’ve always counted on, so I am not going to let him down. Even if the idea of it makes me feel like I’m suffocating. What I’m agreeing to means standing by his decisions. Standing by him could mean not only going against my siblings, but against my own selfish heart that wants him around as long as possible, by any means possible.

  “Give me a hug, pumpkin.” I lean into the car and let him wrap his arms around me. I close my eyes and absorb every second of it, burning it into my brain, the same way I have since he was first diagnosed.

  My phone starts to buzz in my back pocket as I let go of him. I pull it out and am startled to see a text from Griffin. I glance up at my dad and step away from the car. “I’ll be a sec.” I turn my back to him and open the message.