Rolling back from the desk, he runs his hands over his head and sighs. “We need to hire someone to run the office, so you can get back to work,” I tell him, and his eyes come to me as I lean against the doorjamb. Going back inside, I head for the office, where I find Wes sitting at the desk, glaring at a stack of papers in front of him. “See you when I get off.” She hangs up, and I shove my cell into my back pocket. I have two patients coming in soon.” She quiets when the microwave on her end of the line dings. “It’s been quiet,” she murmurs, and her telling me she hates when it’s quiet ‘cause the day drags and she’d rather be home with me filters through my head. “Seriously, it’s awesome,” she adds, and I smile.

“Yeah, it’s like sleeping on a fluffy cloud of marshmallow goodness,” she says, and I laugh, shaking my head. “Besides, I like your bed more than I like mine anyway.” Fuck but I’ve fallen for her, and done it hard. She doesn’t give a fuck where she stays, as long as we’re together. She’s not just saying that shit to say it. “As long as I get to go to sleep with you and wake up with you, I don’t care where I actually sleep,” she answers, and my chest gets tight. “Since I got your car, I’ll stop by your place, grab Dizzy, and bring him with me to pick you up. But with her, the word mine is constantly rolling around in my head, along with the urge to tattoo my name across her forehead. Christ, I don’t know when I turned into the kind of man who gets jealous over petty bullshit. “I know that,” she grumbles, and I shake my head. “Yeah, he’s single, but I’ll remind you-you most definitely are not.” “So he is single,” she mutters, sounding far too curious, and I frown at my boots. He doesn’t need a hit to his pocket for fixing your taillight when it cost me almost nothing to do it.” “Are you sure?” she asks, and I can picture her biting her bottom lip-something she does when she’s indecisive or overthinking shit.

She also abandoned him with a mortgage and a shitload of bills, which is why he not only works full time at one of the local tattoo parlors, but also part time at a mechanic shop in town that his uncle owns. “It’s on me,” I say, knowing Gareth personally, and also knowing his ex left him over two years ago, abandoning him and his two boys behind. In 2020, the Last American to Receive a Civil War Pension has Died

Until Harmony by Aurora Rose Reynolds