The Reunion(114)

Bleary eyed, I sit up in bed, rub my eyes, and try to comprehend what that sound is.

Pound. Pound. Pound.

The door.

Someone is pounding on the door. What the hell time is it? Getting out of bed, I check my phone and see that it’s six in the morning. What is going on?

I switch on a light and open my door, where I find Cooper jogging in place on the other side. He’s holding a stack of envelopes and is a sweaty mess.

Very sweaty.

“Cooper,” I say. “Is everything okay?”

“Great,” he says with such liveliness in his voice that I’m worried he might actually have had eighteen cups of coffee in an hour. “Feeling great. How are you?”

“Uh, tired,” I answer, hugging my arms around my waist. “You realize it’s six in the morning, right?”

“Very much aware. Have a busy day ahead of me—it’s why I can’t stay and chitchat.” He hands me an envelope. “Your presence is requested. Well, not just requested, more like kindly demanded.”

“Where?” I ask, flipping over the envelope.

“It’s all in there.” He holds up the stack of envelopes. “I’ve got a lot more to run around the town. Don’t have a car, so I’m getting in the exercise this morning. See you tonight.” And then he takes off down the stairs without another word.

I shut my door and walk over to my bed, where I open the envelope. I pull out a homemade, scrapbooked card. It’s cream and a mossy green color with a C on the front. When I flip it open, a handwritten note invites me to a wedding anniversary party tonight at the Chances’ home. Below that is an arrow that points to the back. I flip it over to find Ford’s familiar handwriting.

Larkin,

I know I’m the last person you probably want to hear from, or do a favor for, but I would be forever in your debt if you attended my parents’ anniversary party tonight. I have something I desperately want to say to you, and I know my parents would be grateful to have you at the party, especially since they know how much you mean to me. How much you’re my future . . .

Please attend. Hopefully I’ll see you tonight.

Ford

Twisting my lips to the side, I read his note a few more times and then lie back on my bed, staring up at the canopy of flowers. What are those Chance kids up to?

Guess there’s only one way to find out.





CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

DR. BEAU

“Good morning, Doc.”

“Jesus Christ.” I jerk back against my door, the coffee in my mug sloshing around. “Ford,” I say after taking a deep breath. “How long have you been waiting there?”

His eyes are bright, his smile a little creepy, and his energy more than what a man should have at this hour. I’m about to head down to the office early to get some precharting done before appointments start. I definitely wasn’t expecting anyone to be in the stairway of my apartment.

“Not long. Was about to knock on your door. You saved me from pounding with my fist.”

Composing myself, I give him a polite smile. “Well, glad to oblige.” I walk down the stairs, Ford on my heels, and then open the office for the both of us. “Is everything okay? You seem very . . . sweaty.”

“Been running around town.” He holds up an envelope. “This is for you.”

“You’re giving me a card?” I laugh, taking it and then setting my coffee down on a side table in the lobby.

“It’s not personally from me—unless you want me to write you a love letter, then maybe that’s something I can arrange.”

“You do have handsome features, but the wrong body parts.”

Ford throws his head back and laughs, the jovial body language seriously throwing me for a loop.

“Are you sure everything is okay?” I ask.

“Everything’s great. But we do hope to see you tonight.”

“We?” I ask.

“Yup. We’re throwing my parents an anniversary party—a redo, actually—and it would mean the world to us if you came . . . and, uh, if you could convince your sister to come too. She got an invite as well.”

“I see.”

“It would mean the most to Palmer if you were there.”

I clutch the envelope, my pulse picking up. “How is she? Cast still dry?” I try to joke, but it feels flat coming off my tongue.

“She’s doing better, and yes, the cast is dry. But I have a few more things I have to do, and I have to make the run back to the house.”

“Sure, yeah. Okay.”

Ford points at the envelope. “Read it. You won’t regret it.” And then he takes off.

When the door shuts, I carry my coffee and the envelope to my office, where I take a seat and open the envelope. I open the handmade card and read the handwritten invitation. Party tonight, at the Chance residence. An arrow points to the back, so I turn it over to find Palmer’s handwriting.

Dearest Beau,

I know we left things in an awkward state and I don’t blame you. I’ve been nothing like myself these last few weeks, let alone months, but one thing that I did realize while being here is how much I like you, how much I want to spend my time with you, how much our history means to me. So, I know you probably have better things to do, but it would be such an honor if you’d please come to my parents’ anniversary party tonight. I really need to talk to you.