Wonderful indeed.
Now I just have to trust Loren to forgive me when she comes home to the Margaret Adams Invasion. I also have to trust her ability to act like my wife with zero notice.
I move to collect my mother’s luggage, my body tight as a rat trap. Still, this could work.
No, itisworking.
You’ve got this, man.
“Don’t be too long,” my mother says. “We havesomuch to catch up on.”
“We sure do.”
She turns and floats down the hall. “Oh, and Bridger?” she quips, over her shoulder. “I simply can’t wait to meet your cat.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Loren
“Noah!”
I’ve almost reached my car when I spot his familiar man-bun crossing the courtyard. He doesn’t hear me, so I call out again, striding in his direction.
“NOAH!” I shriek.
Loud and desperate, just the way a lady likes to sound. But I can’t help it. My head’s still reeling from the news that Bridger might’ve been visiting my dad. For weeks. My heart’s reeling too.
And yes, asking Noah if he knows anything could raise questions. As far as he knows, Bridger and I are strictly friends.
But I need confirmation more than caution.
He looks up and waves, changing courses and crossing the parking lot. “Hey, Loren,” he says, jogging up to me. “It’s been a minute. Glad I ran into you.”
“Me too.”
Although technically, we didn’t run into each other. I just screamed his name like a banshee.
“I wanted you to know, your dad’s been doing great,” he says. “Reallygreat.” A wide smile takes over half his face, and his bright blue eyes match his scrubs. But right now, the only wide smile and bright eyes I’m interested in belong to my husband.
My secret husband, who’s been visiting my father.
Secretly.
“That’s so great!” I chirp. “Reallygreat.” Because of courseDad doing greatis the whole reason for moving him to Havenwood in the first place. But now that we’ve established that bit of information, I need to know more about Bridger. “Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
“I mean … sure.” Noah squints. “His behavioral and cognitive functions have steadied. For now.”
I nod. “Yes … and?”
“And his whole team thinks his being here has been key.” Noah glances back at the building. “The routine. The companionship. The stimulation. All that.”
“Great,” I repeat. “That’s definitely good to hear.” I let out a nervous breath. There’s a stretch of silence, besides a bird squawking at us from a maple tree.
“Okay.” Noah glances up at the bird, then back at me. “So, is there something else you still want to ask me, specifically?”
“There is.” I blink. “Specifically. Yes.”
Yes … and?