Wicked Need (The Wicked Horse Series Book 3)(54)
“Should I call him?” she asks, her finger absently stroking up and down the glass wet with condensation.
I shrug. “What’s the point? He probably won’t answer, and if he does, he’ll give you a round of bullshit. The fact of the matter is, you have a copy of a valid trust agreement that leaves you money and a house. It’s time to turn this over to an attorney and get this shit sorted.”
Cat raises her gaze to me, and she gives me a nod of agreement. “You’re right. It’s time and I’ve got the money from my jewelry I can use to hire an attorney now.”
“We’ll call Bridger later and ask him if Jenna will handle it,” I tell her as I lean sideways on my stool and bump my shoulder against hers. “I’m sure she’ll give you a discount too.”
“Sounds good,” she says, her voice sounding as relaxed and happy as I’ve ever heard it.
“So, let’s play ‘What If’,” I say as I turn on my stool to face her a bit. “What if you ultimately find out you get nothing from Samuel’s estate?”
Cat turns, her knees brushing against my thigh. She rests a forearm on the bar, the other on the back of my stool. “I guess I’d have to be a better roommate and start paying you rent, huh?”
“You’d want to stay here?”
“I think so,” she says hesitantly. “I know exactly what’s waiting for me in Vegas. I think I’d like to explore the opportunities here. And I will pay you rent as soon as I get my first paycheck.”
Hmmmmm… that tells me exactly shit.
“You know you’re not a roommate to me, right?” I tell her, deciding that maybe we need a little plain talk between us. “I’ve had roommates before and they were nothing like you. We’re different. What we have between us is different.”
Her arm shifts and her hand goes from the back of my stool to brush against my shoulder. Her eyes stare at her hand as she strokes me, almost in confusion. “I’m not sure what we are.”
“Well, I think we’re a little north of roommates, a little east of friendship, and probably a little south of f*ck buddies.”
Her gaze slides from my shoulder to meet mine as her lips turn upward. “I’m lost.”
I laugh and slide my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her to me for a kiss. “I’m lost too. But I’m glad you’re right here beside me now.”
“Me too,” she admits, and that makes me smile. I release my hold on her neck, turning to grab my beer as she says, “But you know I’m afraid to believe in this, right? You know I’ve never had a relationship before. I have no clue what to do, no clue if I’m any good at anything. I’m afraid you’re expecting something of me I can’t give, and that one day, you’re going to wake up and realize I’m really not someone you’d want to give the time of day to and that your hero talents are wasted on me.”
A dull, cramping sensation starts in the center of my chest and squeezes tighter as I absorb her words… take in the solemnity of her gaze upon me. God, she’s f*cked in the head and I can’t imagine being so lost and unaware of your own potential.
“Cat,” I say as I ignore my beer and turn fully to her. My hands go to her knees but before I can say anything further, my phone rings in my back pocket, and it startles me for a moment. I would normally ignore it because this is a f*cking serious issue we need to discuss, but I asked Pish to call me if someone dropped the will off after I left. I give a squeeze to her knees and a hold a finger up. “Just a minute.”
I fish in the back pocket of my jeans and pull the phone out, looking at the number. It’s not from Westward Ink, but it’s not one I recognize either. I have a moment of indecision if I should answer or ignore, but then choose to connect the call in case it’s perhaps one of the other artists at the shop calling me on a cell phone I don’t have programmed in my contacts. I don’t know all of them well enough to call them friends.
“Hello,” I say into phone after bringing it to my ear.
“Is this Rand Bishop?” A young woman… definitely not someone from the shop.
“It is.”
“This is Amy Felgar, a patient care rep at St. John’s Medical Center. Tarryn Stoker is apparently being admitted and her nurse asked me to call you.”
My stomach drops so hard and fast that I feel nauseated. “Is she okay?”
She doesn’t answer right away, and I can hear some clacking on a computer. “I’m sorry, I don’t have much info in the system. They might not have it all entered, but it does say she’s being scheduled for surgery.”
No clue what my face looks like, but I feel Cat’s hand on my thigh with the weight of warm assurance. I look at her, and she returns a worried stare. “I’m on my way.”
Hanging up, I put the phone back in my pocket and stand up from the stool. “Tarryn’s had some sort of accident. Getting ready to go into surgery. She asked them to call me so it must be pretty serious.”
“Yeah… okay,” Cat says immediately as I open my wallet up and take some money out. I lay it on the bar so she can pay for the tab. Her eyes glance to the money, and then flick back to me. “I’ll bring your food home. Call me once you know something.”
“I will,” I murmur as I lean in to brush my lips against her temple. “And I’m sorry… this was bad timing. We’ll continue the talk when I get back to the apartment.”