Chapter 57
709 Words
Nigel looked around and saw that Emma was sitting on the sofa next to Dean. His tattooed arm was around her gently, and he was looking at her like she was the most amazing thing he’d ever seen in his life. Chris was helping Jenny with something in the kitchen, his huge hands carefully arranging tiny little things on trays. Nigel’s breath caught when he saw the startling golden eyes on the guy talking to Kat; Nigel hadn’t caught the man’s name on the way in. He did notice that Kat had dyed her hair black for the occasion, and the contrast with her creamy skin was incredible.
The last to arrive was a tall, broad, muscled man with ferocious blue eyes and arms full of tattoos. He stared down at Nigel in the most intimidating-but-damn-sexy way, and Nigel took a step back, thinking that this could only be one person.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Nigel. Are you Dallas?”
The man nodded, those eyes taking in the whole room at a glance. He saw Emma, found Liv, spotted Jenny and Kat. He returned his attention to Nigel, noticed the expensive clothes and cologne, and then he saw Nigel’s tension. Dallas smiled and extended his hand, trying to set the other man at ease.
“Yeah, I’m Dallas.” His voice had a drawl to it, and Nigel almost wriggled. He loved Southern men. “You’re Olivia’s PA, right?”
“Yes.”
Dallas nodded. “Have you got her a new cell number yet?”
Nigel paused. “Uh – yes. Three days ago.”
“Has she received any more abusive texts?”
“No.”
Dallas nodded again. “OK. Good to meet you.” He went over to Emma and gave her a hug. Nigel almost swooned at those tattooed arms in that tight black t-shirt – the man had muscles on his muscles.
Dean sat next to Emma, still unable to believe how much better she was doing. The transplant had been almost textbook in its perfection, Doctor Fife had told them: no complications, no problems with the grafting process. Emma hadn’t even had a fever afterwards, though she had been sore for a few days.
Despite the good news, she wasn’t out of the woods yet, Dean knew. There was still a good chance that the donor stem cells could attack Emma’s own cells, and she’d need treatment for that. Dean had memorized the list of symptoms to look for, and so far, everything was OK. But he was ready if he had to get Emma back to the hospital quickly.
And of course, she still had cancer; she still needed chemotherapy. They wouldn’t know for another few months if the transplant had helped to push her into remission, and even if it had, she’d need a clean bill of health for three years before she could be declared cured of the disease. Dean fully intended to be there on the day that declaration happened: he was going to be there with her every day until she was totally, completely healthy.
Emma caught Dean’s eye and smiled at him. Not caring at all that they were surrounded by people, she leaned over and kissed him. Their eyes closed, their hands were gentle on each other’s faces and they were lost in their own little world.
She pulled back a bit. “I love you,” she said. “I love you for being here.”
“I love you too, honey. And I have some news, actually.”
“Yeah? What is it?”
“I bought us plane tickets to California for Christmas.”
“You did what?”
He stroked the curves of her lips, longing to taste them again already. “I asked Doctor Fife, and he said you’ll be OK to travel by then, for sure. I want you to be there with me when I go to the ocean.”
Emma’s eyes filled with tears. “For Kimberley?”
“Yeah. For Kimberley.” He smiled. “You’ll go to California with me?”
“Of course, babe. I’ll go anywhere with you.” She moved into his arms again. “Anywhere at all.”
- Writer
