Hopelessly Perfect (Perfectly Imperfect Love Series Book 2)

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Hopelessly Perfect (Perfectly Imperfect Love Series Book 2) Page 7

by S. E. Rose


  “Really? That’s cool. I like Tabby. Are you, like, doing it right now?”

  We all slap our foreheads. “No, dipshit. I’m getting some advice about how to do it,” KJ says.

  “Oh . . . well, I think you should do it where you met . . . no, bad plan, that’s her old studio and it’s weird with the fire that was there. OK, how about her new studio at your place?” Clark suggests.

  KJ shrugs. “Not a horrible idea. I guess I want to do something grand, but I know she won’t want that. I need a happy medium.”

  I rack my brain for ideas. I smile when it comes to me.

  “Banneker,” I say.

  KJ looks at me.

  “She loves it here. And there are tons of options. The baseball field, the park, down by the river,” I say to him. “We could invite our family and yours.” I look at Brix. “We could make up some reason for her to be there, like she needs to photograph something for the town.” My mind goes a mile a minute as the idea comes to me. “Oh, and it’d be easy to set up since we are all here.”

  KJ nods. “I like it. She loves Banneker. It’d be fun, more intimate than opening day at the field, and yet all the important people in her life could take part in it.”

  KJ steps over to me and wraps me in a giant hug. “Thanks, Lanie. I love that idea.”

  “I like it too,” Brix says. “She’ll love it. But, uh, when are you doing this?”

  “As soon as possible,” KJ says. “I want to be engaged before the pre-season. You think we can pull it off in the next few weeks?”

  I frown. “It’ll be tough, but maybe.”

  KJ gives me a look. “Not maybe—we have to do this. All or nothing.”

  “We got this,” Brix says and places his hand down in between us all. One by one, we all pile our hands on top of his.

  “To the proposal,” KJ says.

  “To secrets,” I add.

  “To fun,” Clark chimes in.

  “To love,” Di says sternly. We all shrug and laugh as we yell, “Team Moore” and throw our hands in the air.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “NO!” Ash screams as the nurse goes to hook him up for his treatment.

  “Ash, sweetie. You know we need to do this. It’s how you are going to get better,” I say in a low soothing voice as I approach him.

  “NO!” he screams again.

  “Hey, what’s going on here?” Brix’s voice carries into the room before his body appears.

  He looks at the nurse and then Ash. “Hey, buddy. It’s OK.” He motions for the nurse to leave, and she complies with a nod.

  “How about we make some balloons instead?”

  Ash looks suspiciously up at Brix, who pulls some gloves out of his pocket and proceeds to blow them up and tie them off. Ash takes a step forward.

  “See,” Brix says as he passes it over to Ash.

  I grab a few gloves from a box and make a crown for myself, putting them on my head.

  Ash laughs. “Are you an angel?”

  “She sure is,” Brix agrees.

  “Nope, I’m a princess,” I announce and make him one, placing it on his head. “And you are a prince. You know what princes do?”

  Ash shakes his head. “They conquer dragons!”

  Ash giggles. Brix grabs a tongue depressor. “Kneel, Sir Ashton.” Ash kneels.

  “I hereby dub thee ‘Sir Ashton, Knight of the Hospital Round Table.’ Rise, good sir.”

  Ash rises and takes the depressor.

  I grab some markers from my bag. “Why don’t you make it more sword-like? If you can do the treatment, I will go get us some accessories to complete our new royal look.”

  “Really?” he asks.

  I nod.

  He frowns. “OK, but you promise?”

  “I promise,” I say to him.

  “I’ll stay with Ash while you go find what we need,” Brix says to me. I head out and go to the nurses' station. They direct me to the children’s room where I find all kinds of play outfits, including prince and princess costumes. I’m back in the treatment room after a few minutes, and Ash and Brix are busy watching a King Arthur movie. I settle in next to them and place a crown on Ash’s head. He looks up at me and smiles.

  I lean down and kiss his cheek. “We’ll play later, OK.”

  “OK.” He’s quiet for a moment and then looks back up at me.

  “Thanks, you are an angel to me, Miss Lanie,” he whispers and leans his little head on my arm. I wrap my arm around him, and we curl up and watch the movie.

  Brix looks over at me. I can’t read his eyes, but his gaze is so intense, I have to look away. I swear this man gives me butterflies every time I see him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Brixton

  My phone pings with a text as I’m doing rounds. I frown when I see it’s from Judge Maloney.

  Judge M: Call me when you have a minute

  I immediately step inside our staff break room and call his cell. He picks up on the second ring.

  “Brix?”

  “Yeah, what’s wrong?”

  I hear a long sigh. “It’s Mrs. Collier. She fell.”

  “When? Is she OK?”

  “Yes, yes. She broke her hip, though. They were able to place the other two foster boys at her house, but they asked me about Ashton. Is he still scheduled to be released in about a week?”

  “Yes,” I answer slowly as wheels begin to turn in my head. “Give me five minutes. I think I might have a solution.”

  “And that would be?”

  “Lanie.”

  “Lanie?”

  “Just . . . give me a few minutes.”

  “Fine. But be quick about it; we don’t have much time to come up with a plan. I was lucky enough to run into his social worker, otherwise, he’d just be assigned directly to the next available foster family. There’s only so much I can do to intervene.”

  I hang up and call Lanie.

  “Brix?”

  “Hey, you have a second?”

  “Yeah, what’s wrong?”

  “We need a place for Ashton to stay. Mrs. Collier fell and broke her hip.”

  “Oh my God. Is she OK?”

  “Yes. She’ll be fine. I’m going to go check on her myself after my rounds. But . . . remember when you mentioned to me that you got certified as a foster parent so you could have a client’s kid stay with you for a few weeks?”

  “Yes. Wait. You want Ashton to stay here?”

  “I do.”

  “Brix . . . I don’t know. I mean, that’s . . . I . . . when do you need to know?”

  “Like now,” I admit. “Judge Maloney lucked out and heard about it. Otherwise, social services would be placing him with the next available family. We have a short window of time to do something.”

  She groans. Silence follows for the next ten seconds. I bite the inside of my cheek as I wait for her to make a decision. “Fine. I’ll do it, but only on a temporary basis. I’ll need to speak with Larry about getting some more flexi time so that I can be home.”

  “Great. I’ll let Judge Maloney know.”

  “Wait, Judge Maloney wants him here?”

  “No, he found out about Mrs. Collier and happened to run into Ash’s social worker. I might have suggested you.”

  “We can discuss this tonight,” she says with a sigh.

  “Dinner?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your house?”

  “Yes.”

  “See you later.”

  I hang up and let the judge know that we have a plan. Hopefully, social services agrees to it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lanie

  This time, I decide to make the one thing I can cook: macaroni and cheese. And not just any old mac and cheese—the good stuff. Gruyere, gouda, sharp cheddar, and a parmesan breadcrumb topping. Today, I add lobster and bacon to it. I throw together a little garden salad, and voila! Even Kylie, our family’s resident picky eater, likes this meal.

  I set the dining room t
able and wait for Brix’s text. I sit tapping my foot and then pace and then go back to tapping my foot. I’m not good at waiting.

  My phone buzzes, and I jump up. I sigh when I see it’s a text from Clark.

  Clark: Do you still have that cool Frisbee that we bought at the beach a few years ago?

  Me: Uh, I think, why?

  Clark: I may have joined an ultimate Frisbee team at school and then realized I don’t have a Frisbee.

  Me: Seriously? Maybe you should have thought about that before joining the team.

  Clark: Semantics . . . anyhoo . . . can you bring it to Mom and Dad’s on Saturday?

  Me: Yes, I’ll look for it.

  Clark: You da best!

  Me: I know

  Clark: Show off

  Me: Smartass

  Clark: I learned from the best! (kissing emoji)

  I shake my head but can’t help the smile that forms on my lips. My baby brother is a royal pain in the ass, but he’s also a genius and a sweetheart. He just sometimes lacks common sense.

  I head to my garage and rummage around in a few boxes before I find the Frisbee. I take a photo and send it to Clark, who responds with two thumbs up emojis.

  My phone buzzes again, and I see a text from Brix.

  Brix: 30 minutes ETA

  Me: Yay! I’ll keep dinner warm.

  I go and turn down the oven and pour myself a glass of wine. I need to calm down. I don’t know why I’m so antsy. Oh wait, I may be fostering a child, and my crush is on his way over to my house. I roll my eyes at myself. I can practically feel all my control slipping away. When did my life get so complicated?

  After twenty-seven more minutes of pacing, I hear a car in my driveway. I run into my kitchen and pretend to be doing something. There’s a knock at the side door off the kitchen.

  “Come on in,” I yell out as I pour a second glass of wine.

  “Hey,” Brix says. He hangs his coat in my mudroom and walks in to greet me.

  “Hey.”

  “What smells so good?” he asks as he takes the wine that I offer him.

  “My only specialty.”

  “Which is?”

  I grin. “You’ll see. Go have a seat. I’ll bring it out.”

  “OK,” he says slowly as he walks into my dining room.

  I grab the mac and cheese from the oven and walk into the dining room, setting it down on a hot plate.

  “God, that smells amazing!” Brix exclaims as he inhales.

  “It’s about the only thing I can make besides spaghetti, grilled cheese, and burgers on the grill,” I admit.

  “Well, if it tastes half as good as it smells, then I’d say you are a damn mac and cheese genius.”

  I sit down and motion for him to get some. “Guests first.”

  He piles a huge serving on his plate and adds some salad to his salad bowl. I help myself next while he grabs his wine glass and raises it.

  “To the chef.”

  “To my guest,” I retort, and we sip our wine.

  “I can’t wait another minute; I’m starving.” He gets a motherload of mac and cheese on his fork. I’m about to tell him it’s hot when he puts it in his mouth.

  “Watch out! It’s hot!” I say too late because his eyes go wide and he gulps down wine.

  “Sorry,” I squeak.

  He gulps the water next. Finally, he composes himself. “That is definitely hot,” he says with an embarrassed chuckle.

  “I should have warned you; it just came out of the oven.”

  He holds up a hand. “No worries. I’ll survive.”

  “Well, I hope you can taste the rest of it . . .” I trail off and grimace.

  He blows on another forkful, and my eyes widen at how sexy it looks. I can just imagine him blowing on my skin. I blush. Why am I thinking about this right now?

  “What’s wrong?” he asks, looking up as he pops the bite into his mouth. I watch his jaw move and his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Damn, how can a man chewing be so fucking sexy?

  “Earth to Lanie? Did I break you?”

  I shake my head. “Sorry, long day. Nothing’s wrong.” I look down at my plate, trying desperately to compose myself.

  “So, tell me about this long day,” he prompts as he moans over the cheesy goodness of the macaroni he just tasted. “And then tell me this recipe because this is legit.”

  I start on a story about Ash and his treatment and how he was sad today and it made me sad because I get where he’s coming from.

  We’re finishing dinner when Brix’s phone starts ringing. He pulls it out of his pocket and looks at it, cursing.

  “Sorry, I’m on call,” he mutters with an apologetic glance as he answers his phone. I hear a bunch of ‘uh-huh’ and ‘no’ and ‘when’ and then he hangs up and runs a hand through his hair.

  “I’m really sorry, but I need to get back to the hospital.”

  I wave him off. “No big deal. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely. Oh, shit, we didn’t even get a chance to talk about Ash moving in here,” he says with a guilty look.

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m gonna get stuff together for him, and it’ll be all set up for him when he gets released from the hospital. I have all the paperwork ready to go for child services tomorrow,” I assure him.

  “You sure it’s OK?”

  I nod, biting my lip because I’m not sure I’m ready to be a foster parent. “I got this.”

  I stand to clear the dishes, and he walks around the table.

  “Thanks for dinner,” he says in a low gravelly voice as he leans in and kisses me.

  I stop breathing for a moment until he laughs against my lips. “Breathe, angel.”

  Angel? Then I remember Ash’s comment, and I blush and let out my breath as I press my lips back to his. For a man about to dash off to the hospital for an emergency, he certainly is being thorough in his exploration of my mouth, I think as I move my tongue against his.

  He groans and pulls back. “I wish I could stay, but I gotta go.”

  I nod, too afraid to speak and say something stupid.

  “I hope everything is OK.”

  “It’ll be fine. It happens; it’s part of being a doctor,” he explains as he picks up a few dishes and brings them into the kitchen, setting them on the counter. “Sorry I can’t help clean up.”

  “It’s no biggie. Get going, you.”

  He gives me a dashing smile and heads out the side door. I lean against my counter and fan myself. Jesus, I need to get laid.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Brixton

  I can’t seem to stop thinking about Lanie. We have a few more days of in-patient treatment with Ash and then he’ll be able to get out of here. I hate that he has to switch homes again. I understand how hard that is, having had to do it as a kid. I remember each time my mom moved us to a new home and then when she died and we moved in with my grandparents. Every move was hard. New place. New kids. New everything. But I just think this is the right thing for Ash and Lanie. I see them together, and they fit, like two puzzle pieces that complete a picture.

  My medical instincts tell me Ash is gonna beat this, and a part of me wants him to live permanently with Lanie. If I’m not lying to myself, a part of me wants to live permanently with them too. Every day I see her and talk to her, I find myself wanting her more and more. She’s every man’s perfect woman: beautiful, smart, funny, sweet, and caring. She’s amazing, and she doesn’t even know it.

  I see her and it makes me think of all the wonderful things that the kids here might go on to do with their lives. She’s a walking symbol of hope.

  I’m deep in thought about her when she appears before me like a projection of my mind.

  “Hey,” she says as she leans on the counter of the nurse’s station.

  “Hey there.”

  “I’m heading out. I need to stop by the clerk’s office and file some stuff for a case I have coming up. I’ll see you later when I get back?”


  “Sure.”

  “By the way, you created a monster with that glove balloon. He keeps asking if we can blow more gloves up.”

  I laugh. “Sometimes it’s the smallest things that keep kids occupied.”

  Lanie nods. “True story. We once told Clark that spoons could be planted in the garden and they would grow into beanstalks with giants at the top. He was annoying, and we wanted him to stay busy for five minutes. Needless to say, all of my mom’s spoons were missing later that day and the garden had about two dozen spoons in it.”

  I chuckle. “Wow, you guys were trouble!”

  Lanie shrugs. “I imagine my mother wanted to kill us, but I think she’s going for sainthood because we didn’t even get in trouble when Clark ratted us out.”

  I shake my head and laugh some more. “I’d love to have met you as a kid. I bet you were awesome.”

  Lanie blushes. “I was . . . something. OK, I seriously have to be going. I’ll see you later.”

  “Later, alligator,” I call out after her because I’ve heard her say that to Ash.

  She turns as she presses the call button on the elevator. “After a while, crocodile,” she replies as she sticks her tongue out at me. Her grin is the last thing I see before the doors shut.

  I look down to hide my grin, but Eve, an older nurse on the unit floor, sees me.

  “I like that one,” she says as she places a file on the desk.

  I look up at her. “I like that one, too.”

  It’s weird that, as my day drags on, my mind circles back to Lanie. I see her once more before she leaves again for the day, but duty calls and we don’t get a chance to talk more. I want to call her all night, but each time I think about it, a patient distracts me. And so, I switch my focus to my work, trying my best not to think about the woman who has taken up residence in my brain.

  I’m dragging ass as I get to the hospital the next morning. A long night with a sick patient has me needing extra coffee, but fortunately, my patient is on the mend. I check on Ash’s chart first. He has six more days in here and then, if all is going well, we’ll release him and he’ll continue follow-up treatments as an outpatient.

 

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