Never With You (The Never Series Book 6)

by Anie Michaels

  “I have no shame about how my brain operated at fifteen.”

  “Your thirty-something brain doesn’t have the same thoughts?” She was looking at me with mischief in her eyes.

  “All I’ll say is that breasts aren’t my only requirements anymore.”

  She laughed again, this time softer, and said, “Glad to see you’ve broadened your horizons.”

  I pulled off the highway and up to a tiny drive-thru coffee stand. I wasn’t particular about my coffee—it was all the same to me—but this particular stand was not a franchise and I liked the idea of supporting a small business, so I usually went out of my way to stop there. Plus, the woman who owned it made all the pastries by hand and they were incredible.

  There was no line, so I pulled right up to the window and I was greeted by Nancy’s smiling face.

  “Briggs.” She beamed as soon as I got my window down. “How’ve you been?”

  “I’ve been good, Nancy. How about yourself?”

  “Oh, can’t complain. Been busy here, so that’s all I can ask for. What are you and your lady friend drinking?” Nancy winked at me and it was not covert at all.

  I looked over at Talia and she was smiling the warm smile I’d grown accustomed to.

  “Well, what’s your drink of choice?” I asked her.

  She leaned forward, completely bypassing me, and said to Nancy, “Can I get a medium vanilla latte?”

  “Sure thing, sweetheart,” Nancy said sweetly. “You want your regular?” she asked me.

  “Yeah, please. And two of your blueberry scones.”

  “Coming right up.” She gave the windowsill two taps and then disappeared into her coffee stand.

  “Come here often?” Talia asked with a smirk.

  “A few times a week. Once you try the scones you’ll understand.”

  “Baked goods are the way to my heart.”

  “Noted.”

  “What’s your regular drink?”

  “Just black coffee.”

  “Regular black coffee? No cream? No sugar?”

  “Plain black coffee.”

  “That’s so gross.” She made a face but followed it with a smile. “I can’t drink coffee unless it tastes like something other than coffee.” She laughed and brought her foot up to rest on the seat, wrapping her arms around her knee. “But I need coffee to function.”

  “I like the flavor of coffee.”

  “Well, I won’t hold that against you.”

  “Here you go, honey.” Nancy was holding out a cardboard drink carrier filled with our drinks and pastry bags.

  “Thanks,” I said, handing over some cash. “Keep the change.”

  “You two have a great day, now.”

  “We will. Bye, Nancy!” This came from Talia as I handed her the drink carrier. She leaned forward and said her goodbye, waving and smiling like she and Nancy were old friends. I pulled forward and turned back onto the highway, still heading away from town and my house. “Where are we going?” Talia asked, her voice full of curiosity.

  “I made a reservation.” Her eyes went wide and I knew she was worried about her clothes. “Don’t worry.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me, but then pulled her latte from the carrier and took a slow sip.

  It took just a few minutes to get to our destination and when I pulled into the parking lot I glanced over at Talia and watched her face light up.

  “This is perfect,” she said quietly, then looked back at me, eyes shining.

  I reached behind her seat and grabbed a hoodie I kept there and held it out to her. “Here, put this on. It can get pretty windy out there.”

  She took it from me and I hopped out of the truck, heading over to her door. When I opened it, she was pulling the hoodie over her head, still smiling. She brushed her hand over her hair, trying to tame the damage the hoodie had done, which I knew would be useless once we made it to our destination. She grabbed the carrier, which held both our drinks and scones again, and I reached out for her other hand to help her down.

  I tried to ignore the way her hand felt in mine. I didn’t want to think about the way it fit so perfectly, or felt as though it belonged there. Instead of focusing on those feelings, I decided to just not let it go right away. So I closed her door and threaded my fingers through hers and led the way.

  Just as I suspected for mid-morning on a weekday, no one was at the coastal viewpoint and we had it all to ourselves. There was a jutting hill that ended with a sharp cliffside where one could watch waves crash against the wall of rock, but there were also a few picnic tables not so close to the edge and that was where I took Talia.

  As we approached I took the carrier from her and placed it on the table. I straddled the bench and sat facing the ocean. Then I patted the bench in front of me and Talia took the hint, situating herself in the same manner as me and sitting right in between my legs. She took her coffee, sipping it as she looked out over the ocean, and I leaned one elbow on the table, letting my other hand rest on her hip.

  “This is an incredible view, Briggs.” She spoke the words a little loudly, talking over the breeze that was always present there. I loved the way it made the wispy hairs on the back of her neck float and swirl around. They looked like tiny little flames against her pale skin.

  “Mmm. I agree.” I could see the blush creep up her neck as she realized I wasn’t talking about the ocean. Neither of us said anything for a few minutes and I was thoroughly enjoying doing nothing with her. All of a sudden, she spoke.

  “It’s weird how loudly quiet it is.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Loudly quiet?”

  “Yeah. I mean, it’s quiet here, right? There’s no sound except the wind and the ocean, which are loud, but it still feels silent. Quiet enough to hear my thoughts, I suppose, which are louder than the wind and waves combined.”

  “I get that,” I agreed. “Sometimes our thoughts are louder than anything.”

  “Yeah,” she said so quietly, she probably didn’t think I could hear.

  After a few moments of quiet, a large gust of wind came and I watched her curl into her center, bringing her coffee close to her chest. Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I brought her back to my chest and then wrapped my hoodie around her and held her close to me. She let me take her weight and rested against me, and then her head fell back against my shoulder and her body relaxed with a sigh. And that was how we stayed. I didn’t know if two minutes or two hours had passed. All I knew was that I was content.

  When we did finally move, it was because she started vibrating. Literally. She sat up and pulled her phone from her pocket, swiped her finger across the screen and said, “Hey, Mom.” The phone was to her ear, and the wind was still blowing, but even I could hear the panicked cries coming from the other end of the phone. I was instantly on edge and could feel the fear pulse through Talia. “Mom, calm down, I can’t understand you.” She stood up, holding a finger to her ear, trying to hear her mother better. I was on my feet with her. “Oh my God,” she gasped, wide eyes turned to me. I put my hand on her back and guided her toward the truck. I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew we needed to go.

  “Okay, I’m on my way. Oh my God.” Her voice sounded on the verge of tears. I opened the passenger door and helped her in, then jogged to my door. When I looked over at her after climbing up, she had tears in her eyes. I moved to the middle of the bench seat and pulled her into me. I felt her crying before I heard it, but it broke some part of me just the same.

  “Shhh,” I said, running my hand up and down her back, then up to rest on the back of her neck. “Tell me what I need to do. Where are we going?”

  “Samaritan North,” she rasped against my neck.

  Fuck. The hospital.

  “Okay,” I said gently. I pulled back and kissed her forehead. I moved back to my side of the truck and didn’t complain when she moved with me. She was clinging to my arm, crying quietly. I wanted to comfort her, to just hold her and tell her everything
was going to be all right, but I knew I had to get her to the hospital. So I drove.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Talia

  Briggs never asked what had happened, he just held me and then took me where I needed to go. In fact, I had no idea where the hospital was. I just trusted him to get me there. And he did. He pulled right up to the entrance of the emergency room. All I had to do was open my door and I’d be right where I needed to be.

  “Go find your family,” he said.

  Even in my emotionally ransacked state, I was a little disappointed he would just drop me off. But I shook the thought from my head. Of course he was just dropping me off. He didn’t know my family. He didn’t even really know me. It was so kind of him to have even driven me there. I looked up at him, wiped my eyes, and said a shaky, “Thank you.” I scooted over to my side of the truck, opened the door, hopped down, and he immediately pulled away.

  I took a deep breath and walked into the hospital. It was a tiny building, nothing compared to the hospitals in Portland, but since it was so small, it was very clear where I was headed. I followed the signs to the emergency room and walked straight to the admit desk. A friendly-looking woman smiled at me as I approached.

  “Hi, I’m looking for my family. Should be Lennick. Angela or Brody. Or Beckett.”

  “Ah, yes. They’re in room four. Through those doors, second room on the right.”

  “Thank you,” I said quickly as I turned toward the doors. I found room four and went in, expecting the worst.

  Angela was sitting on the hospital bed, cradling Beckett in her arms, and it was very obvious she’d been crying. Hard. Brody was at her bedside, one hand on her shoulder, the other on Beckett’s back. My mother and father were sitting in chairs against the wall, little Raina asleep in her car seat next to my mother.

  “Hey,” I said quietly as I entered, my eyes sweeping over everyone, trying to figure out where the danger was. “What’s going on?” In truth, I was in the dark. My mother had called, frantic, and was crying about the baby and an ambulance, but I never really got more details from her because she was out of her mind.

  At my question, Angela immediately burst into tears again and a wave of guilt crashed over me. Brody leaned over and wrapped his arms around her, and Beckett stirred a little, but Angela rocked him back to sleep as she cried. I looked over at my parents and my mother was weeping, my father sporting a sad look on his face.

  Finally, my brother spoke.

  “Somehow, Beckett got a hold of a quarter and managed to get it to his mouth. He swallowed it and choked.”

  “I was changing Raina’s diaper and I looked over and he was turning blue, making a weird noise.”

  “Oh no,” I gasped, my hand coming to cover my mouth.

  “I shouted for Brody to call nine-one-one, and I flipped him over and started pounding on his back, but it wouldn’t come out…” Her last word trailed off with a sob and I walked over to her and Beckett, resting my hand on her leg and trying to keep my own cries in. Just picturing Beckett choking on anything made my stomach hurt and my chest feel tight. I couldn’t imagine being there, being his mother, and seeing him that way. It made my heart ache.

  “The ambulance was dispatched and he was still choking. Angela must have hit him on the back thirty times. And eventually, the quarter flew out. And he immediately started crying.” Brody told me this as Angela was still sobbing, rocking her baby boy in her arms.

  “Is he all right?” I asked, never more afraid to hear an answer to a question.

  “They think he’s probably fine,” my brother said, but he didn’t sound happy about it. He sounded worried and scared. “They said since he was conscious the whole time and started crying as soon as it dislodged, there probably isn’t any serious damage. But if Angela hadn’t gotten the quarter out…” He couldn’t finish his sentence and I didn’t want him to.

  “But she did,” I said gently, giving Angela a squeeze.

  “He was blue,” Angela cried, her face buried in her baby’s neck. I heard my mother sniffling from her chair across the room.

  “You saved him, Angela. You did so great. He needed help and you were there and you did everything right.” I was trying to be strong for her. I knew she didn’t need me crying too, but it was hard. “What did the doctors say?”

  “They are mainly just observing right now. They say there may be some soreness in his esophagus, and his back may be sore too. But they looked him over and checked all his vitals and said he looked normal. I think they’re just keeping him here for a few hours to monitor him.” Brody, my annoying brother, had never sounded more like a father than he did in that moment.

  “That sounds promising. This is good news.” Just as I said those words the door opened and a doctor walked in, complete with stethoscope around his neck. He looked like he was my parents’ age with gray hair, glasses, and a reassuring smile.

  He walked to the edge of the bed and placed a friendly hand on Angela’s ankle. “How’s Beckett doing?”

  “Still sleeping,” Brody answered.

  “Any changes?” he asked with a smile. Angela shook her head. “Great. I’ll just examine him quickly and get out of your hair.” He walked toward the head of the bed where I was standing, so I moved to stand next to my mother and watched the gentle doctor examine little Beckett without disturbing him or Angela. He listened to his breathing, checked his pulse, and generally just gave him a good looking over. “He looks perfect. We’ll watch him for a bit longer, but I’m pretty confident we can get you home by dinner time.”

  Angela nodded, but didn’t say anything in response.

  The doctor placed a hand on her shoulder. “He’s very lucky you were there. You did exactly the right thing.”

  Angela nodded again, but still said nothing.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Brody said and reached over the bed to shake his hand.

  “No problem. He’s definitely a little fighter. Ring the nurse if anything changes or you have any questions.”

  “We will.”

  The doctor ran his hand over Beckett’s soft, baby fine hair, gave Angela one last smile, and then left, giving the rest of us a practiced smile.

  “That sounds promising,” I said, hoping to lighten the mood a little. “Home by dinner.”

  “What are you wearing?” Brody asked, seeming to suddenly take a good look at me.

  I looked down and my stomach dropped. I was definitely wearing Briggs’s clothes. And there was no mistaking them. Men’s sweatpants and shirt. Shit.

  “My pajamas.” I was a terrible liar.

  “Those clothes are huge on you. They can’t be yours.” The glare I aimed at Brody rivaled all other glares.

  “They’re comfy,” I said harshly, narrowing my eyes at him, hoping he’d get the hint.

  Angela and my mom probably knew what was up, but the last thing I needed was to explain to my father that I’d slept somewhere else last night. Although, I’m sure the fact that I wasn’t there that morning probably clued him in. Regardless, I didn’t think the hospital room was the time or place to discuss whose clothes I was currently wearing.

  Thankfully, Raina chose that exact moment to start squawking in her car seat. I turned toward her and knelt down to undo the harness and clips keeping her secured in the contraption. She smiled at me as soon as I was within her sight and my heart melted a little like it always did when the babies showed me their toothy and gummy grins.

  “Hello, sweet girl, come see Auntie Tally.” I lifted her and brought her to my chest, holding her close and gently swaying back and forth. She let me rock her for a minute, but then lost interest in snuggling and pulled back, twisting at the waist to see the rest of the room and probably evaluate what kind of chaos she wanted to initiate first. Her eyes were drawn to the window, so I walked over to it so she could look out, hoping that would buy us some time before she was inevitably bored and started squawking again.

  The next two hours passed with my mom, my dad, a
nd me trying to entertain Raina while Angela and Brody comforted Beckett. He was awake on and off, but Angela was worried about how much he was sleeping. The nurse who came in periodically to check on him said it was normal, that he was probably tired after such a stressful event. When Beckett was awake, he was cranky. The doctor ordered some baby pain medicine, saying it was very likely his throat and back hurt. But still, there was little concern on the medical staff’s part. They seemed to think he was recovering nicely.

  After a few minutes of crying, Angela gave Beckett a warm bottle and that seemed to calm him, sending him back to dreamland. Raina, on the other hand, wasn’t satisfied with a bottle and we’d run out of the little baby poof things Angela had in the diaper bag.

  “Do you want me to go see if there’s a cafeteria here? Maybe they have some saltines or something Raina can eat.”

  “Thanks, sis,” Brody said, giving me a weak smile.

  I handed Raina back over to my mom, kissing the baby’s head as I did, and walked out of the room. I headed back to the admin desk I’d stopped at before, but when I exited into the waiting room, my heart stopped.

  There sat Briggs.

  He was in a chair along the wall, legs splayed out in front of him, arms crossed over his chest, and head resting back against the window behind him. His eyes were closed, so he didn’t see me and that meant he couldn’t see the confused look on my face at his presence.

  My heart lurched at the sight of him. I thought he’d dropped me off and gone home. He’d been nice enough to drive me to the hospital, and even though I didn’t want to let go of the warmth he offered as he drove me, I understood when he left. My family’s medical drama didn’t concern him. So why was he there?

  I walked up to him and gently laid my hand on his knee. He jerked at my touch, sitting up, eyes opening and his gaze moving wildly around the room before it landed on me.

  “Hey,” he said quickly. “Is everything okay?”

  “You didn’t leave.”

  “Huh?” he asked, running a hand over the top of his head, making his dark hair flop about.

  “I thought you left.”