Wild Heart by Tiffinie Helmer

Author:Tiffinie Helmer [Helmer, Tiffinie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-07T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Ash blinked his eyes open and swore when light sliced into his brain.

Christ, his head felt like a serial killer had gotten loose with a machete. His stomach didn’t feel much better. In fact, he’d better get his ass in gear, or he’d throw up all over the living room.

The room pitched as he stumbled and swayed to the bathroom. A few minutes later, his stomach empty, his head pounding louder, he reentered the living room to find his dad regarding him with humor and pity.

“I’ve been where you are too many times to count. You need to learn to pace yourself and hydrate.”

Ash ignored the comment. “How’d I get home?”

“You don’t remember? You will want to remember. Trust me.”

He searched his memory banks. They were full of distorted images that didn’t make a lot of sense. Had he swung a punch at Bart? If he had, that would make for an uncomfortable work environment.

Wait, Sorene.

Had she driven him home, and did they…?

God dammit, how far had they…?

He rubbed a hand over his face. “Sorene drove me home.”

“That she did. She still cares for you, you know. You really need to lock that in. The sooner the better. She’d make you a great wife, one you probably don’t deserve.”

He knew he didn’t deserve her. Never had. “How did she seem?”

“You mean after she stumbled in here, half-carrying your drunken ass to the couch, where you promptly passed out?”

“Yeah…that.” He sure hadn’t shown her his best side.

“She seemed fine, concerned over the two of us. But still her stellar self. The woman has a huge heart.”

Yes, she did. He wished her heart had been large enough to include him ten years ago. Both of them would have completely different lives now if she had. Maybe even have a family of their own by now.

They’d planned on four rugrats. Two girls and two boys, if they were so blessed. Sorene wanted a decent-sized family but not as many kids as her parents had created, while he just wanted more than one. Growing up an only child, he never had anyone to fight or plot with. If he had a brother or sister, dealing with Quinn’s illness wouldn’t be so hard. Someone could help, talk with him to. Grieve with him.

“Son, you look greener than grass. Make yourself a glass of my cure-all, hangover relief. The ingredients are in the fridge.”

He remembered the recipe of Quinn’s cure-all. Tomato juice, ginger, hot sauce, lemon, and a raw egg. His stomach churned again at the thought of choking down the concoction.

Yeah, he didn’t think so.

“What do you want for breakfast?” he asked Quinn instead.

“Don’t worry about me. Rea should be here in a few, and you need to stop in at the shop. There’s a big shipment of lumber being delivered today.”

He glanced at his watch.

Shit.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” He searched his pockets for his keys, and realized he didn’t have them. He’d left his rental at the Pump House. He’d have

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