Tillie and Georgette were my father’s sisters, both living out West, Tillie in California and Georgette in Arizona. They adored my father more than anything in the entire world. His name wasn’t John to them. It was Johnny, or Baby Brother. Baby Brother especially when they were doting on him, which happened nearly every time they came out to visit and absolutely every time they got him on the phone.

I swore they thought he was still ten years old sometimes the way they mothered him.

While my mom got to work on her calls, I claimed the other chair in the room and collapsed into it, drawing my knees against my chest. I wrapped my arms around them and dropped my chin on top.

And then I got comfortable.

Unlike her phone calls with me, my mother never kept it brief with Tillie or Georgette, but I always thought that had more to do with them and their insistence on staying on the line to gab. And in this circumstance, with my father being where he was, I knew she needed to give them their time.

So I waited.

I watched as nurses came in to check my father’s vitals. I laughed at the serviceman they sent in after my father complained that the TV wasn’t working right, laughing because my father was telling the man how to do his job, then threatening to pop the leads off his chest and do it for him when he was taking too long with it.

Luckily, the man finished up before that threat was followed through with.

While my mom was waiting for Georgette to return her call, telling me I could use the phone after, I listened to my parents bicker about everything from the temperature in the room to the definition of fasting, which my father insisted allowed for occasional bites of food and one full meal.

After the twenty-minute call with Georgette, I finally borrowed my mother’s phone, stepped out of the room, and dialed up Nate first. I told him about my dad and that I would be in tomorrow to cover my shift, then thanked him profusely when he said to handle things here and not to worry about it. He would see me on Tuesday.

Seriously? Best boss ever. I was never being unprofessional again.

Unless Jamie called or texted, then I’d just be extra careful about it.

I would’ve called Syd after speaking to Nate, and I wanted to, her voice would’ve been nice to hear, but I remembered just as I was dialing that she was having her mom time with Brian. That was important and something I didn’t want to disturb. And since my father’s situation was no longer life-threatening, or as life-threatening as we all thought it was, I figured I’d just wait and fill her in when I got back to Dogwood.

I wouldn’t stress her out and take away from what she was experiencing. Never. She needed this.

Unfortunately, not calling Syd meant not getting Jamie’s number from her. And since I didn’t have it memorized yet and relied solely on it being programmed into my phone, I was stuck. I couldn’t call him.

I couldn’t ask him how his meet went. I couldn’t explain why I had been silent with him for hours.

It worried me. I didn’t want Jamie thinking I didn’t care. When his brother came back into the room to check on my father two hours after we last saw him, I charged at the man like a woman off her meds, gripping his lab coat and begging for Jamie’s number, getting it, then letting go and calmly thanking him for everything he was doing for my dad, currently and what he’d done in the past.

I received an amused response to my insanity, McCade dimples and a billboard-worthy smile, then I snuck out of the room again and made my call.

It went straight to voice mail.

“Damn it,” I whispered, listening to Jamie’s recording as I dropped my head back against the wall. The line beeped. “Hey, it’s me. Um, so, this is way late, I should’ve called you earlier, but I’m in Raleigh at the hospital with my parents. My dad sorta had a heart attack scare. He’s okay. They don’t think that was it. Or at least your brother doesn’t. He’s here.” I laughed a little, looking down at the speckled tile floor. “God, you two look so much alike, it’s weird. Anyway …” I paused to exhale a breath. The fingers on my free hand curled under my uniform shorts. “My dad’ll be here until Monday so I’m gonna stay for a while. I don’t have my phone on me, so when you get this, can you call this number back? I really wish you were here. Or I was there. I miss you. God, I miss you.”

I shook my head at myself.

It had been a day. One day. That was it. I saw Jamie yesterday morning before his flight out and I was acting as if it had been weeks, or months. I was starting to forget what he smelled like. If I wasn’t terrified of the thought, which I completely was, I’d drive straight to the ocean and stick my face in it.

Lifting my eyes when movement caught my attention, I watched Jamie’s brother exit my father’s room. He saw me and offered a kind smile.

I waved back, hoping he knew how grateful I was for everything he had done and was doing for my dad, and watched him move down the hallway and disappear into another room.

Then I grinned into the phone and whisper-pleaded before hanging up, “Never cut your hair, okay?”

* * *

I was at the beach.

Or at least near it. I could smell the water all around me. The salty air. The end of summer sunlight.

Dream Jamie.

God … So, so good.

I lifted my chin and inhaled lungfuls through my nose. My body hummed and my toes curled inside my sneakers. It was the best smell in the world. Jamie and the ocean and Jamie and sand and sunlight and Jamie Jamie Jamie.

I wanted his smell to fill me and stay there. I never wanted it gone. I never wanted to wake up.

I moaned softly inside my dream when the smell seemed to curl around me and tighten, drawing me nearer to it. I smiled and buried my face there. I burrowed closer, begging a quiet please to God to keep me under.

Dream Jamie chuckled. His laughter shook my body and warmed the skin beneath my overgrown bangs. I pictured his self-righteous smirk and sky-colored eyes. I felt his smooth, sin-speaking lips press to my forehead.

Like, really felt them. Felt them felt them. His laughter, too.

And his arms around me and his body beneath me and his heartbeat under my hand and please please please don’t let me wake up.

“Baby,” his soft voice whispered.

And even that felt real. Sounded real, too. Jamie’s breath on my forehead. His voice seeping into my ears and into my heart. His finger under my chin, gently lifting and wait …

I peeked my eyes open, slowly because I was scared. Scared of leaving my dream and the Jamie I could feel, here, right here, right now, because I knew the second I opened my eyes, he would be gone, back to his hotel room in Florida.

And I would go back to struggling for comfort in an unforgiving hospital chair that had needed new padding a good ten years ago.

Only now even as I slowly woke up, it felt like the most comfortable place in the world. Huh …

Breath catching in my throat, my eyes fluttered, barely opening, lashes obstructing my reality, then the finger under my chin added pressure, craning my head back and I gasped the second I felt his full, perfect mouth nibble and nip at mine before pressing into a kiss.

It lasted a second, barely, and it was gentle and sweet, not dirty like Jamie always kissed me. These weren’t lips that craved and needed. These were lips that cherished. That said, “Missed you,” and “Fuck, so much, babe,” and “Baby … Legs, look at me,” and wait …