Cherish Hard
Page 45

Tears shimmered in Ísa’s eyes. “I think I’m in love with your dad.”
Kissing her… letting her hold him, cuddle him, Sailor said, “Don’t try anything funny though. My mother’s a little possessive.” He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose… and his stomach growled again. “That’s enough deep emotional stuff.” He felt as if he’d run sandpaper over his soul. “I need food.”
Ísa kissed his lips, then his cheeks, then his nose.
He was grinning by the time she got to his ears.
Finally separating several minutes later, they took turns using the bathroom before dressing in their wrinkled clothes from the previous day. As tidy as they could be, they crept out into the kitchen. It was now five forty-five, and the birds were tweeting up a storm outside the windows.
Tiptoeing around, they checked out the fridge and pantry.
“Want blueberry pancakes?” Sailor whispered to Ísa. “I saw fresh blueberries in the fridge.”
Bright eyes. “Do you know how to make them?”
“I’m an expert,” he bragged. “There’s bacon too. Why don’t you fry some while I whip up the batter?”
They had the pancakes going and the bacon sizzling when the light came on in Catie’s room. The teenager stumbled out a minute later, her hair sticking up like a baby’s and her prosthetics nowhere to be seen.
“Is that bacon?” she whispered, as if she’d smelled ambrosia from heaven.
“Bacon and pancakes.” Ísa pointed a spatula at the teenager, her volume low in deference to the sleeping Martha. “You know your doctors don’t like you doing the knee-walking.”
“I know, I know.” Catie turned back around, hustling as fast as possible. “Give me time to put on my legs, then I’m coming out to eat all the food.”
“Why not the wheelchair we used last night?” Sailor asked after the teen disappeared back into her room. “Wouldn’t that be faster since she’s obviously hungry?”
“Catie hates using the wheelchair. Obstinate runs in the Rain line.” It was an affectionate statement. “She got very good at walking on her knees for a while, until her physiotherapist drummed it into her head that she might cause flexion contractures.” Ísa bent her knee to demonstrate. “It’s where the muscles kind of lock and the knee won’t straighten out fully.”
“Got it. Bad for a runner.”
Ísa nodded. “She only forgets now and then, not enough to harm her.” A quick grin. “But she ordered us all to tell her off when she does.”
Catie returned as Ísa was pouring her a glass of orange juice. The teen had washed her face and brushed her hair back into a ponytail but remained in her pink pajamas dotted with tiny blue stars, the pants short and the top long sleeved with buttons down the front.
Thumping her fists lightly on the counter after scrambling up onto a stool, she whispered, “Where’s my food, minions?”
A mini-spitfire, Sailor thought, taking in those dancing eyes. “Here you are, Your Majesty.”
Already stuffing her face, Catie nodded at the fridge, mumbling something that had Ísa opening the fridge and searching within. “Got it.” She put a pressurized can of whipped cream next to the syrup she’d already found, and Catie went to town with it, smothering her pancakes in the white goop.
Sailor was more of a purist while Ísa stuck with syrup.
“You guys are going back today, right?” Catie said sometime later, her plate bearing evidence of a pancake massacre.
“There’s no rush.” Ísa took a sip of her coffee. “I can stay as long as you want.”
“The Dragon will eat you.”
“Apparently I’m indigestible. She keeps spitting me back out.”
“It’s okay,” Catie said with a laugh she muffled behind one hand. “I really am fine. I was just being a baby last night, that’s all.”
Ísa ran her hand down Catie’s back. “Hey, as far as I’m concerned, you are a baby. I remember changing your diaper five minutes ago.”
“Ugh, total embarrassment!” Despite the outraged statement, Catie leaned over to kiss Ísa on the cheek, the two sisters sitting side by side on the breakfast stools with Sailor next to Ísa.
“Thanks for coming, Issie.”
“Always, Catiebug.”
The love between the two was a banner, their relationship clearly as tight as Sailor’s with his brothers. A point of commonality he’d highlight to Ísa at the first opportunity. He had a feeling she wasn’t yet convinced about the wisdom of this relationship, that if he wasn’t careful, his skittish redhead might yet run.
Hell if he’d let that happen.
Catie ate another pancake before saying, “I think you should go. I’m feeling okay now, and I’ll be busy with the training I have coming up.” A gulp of orange juice. “Plus I think Harlow really needs you. He was texting me last night—he’s freaked out about the job. More than he shows.”
Ísa’s brow furrowed. “He’s only just started. What’s freaking him out?”
“He heard a rumor that the other interns all had sit-downs with Jacqueline every day. He’s worried that Jacqueline doesn’t like something he’s done and he’s already been sidelined.”
Ísa rubbed her face. “None of that is true. Why is he acting crazy?”
“It’s the Dragon—you know how he wants to be her mini-me. Any sign of trouble and he turns emo-Harlow.” Catie shook her head at Sailor. “Normally he’s smart, sane Harlow, but the Dragon scrambles his brain cells.”
“What about his parents?” Sailor asked, intensely curious about the dynamics of Ísa’s family.
“Losers from Loserville,” Catie said before Ísa could answer. “They both got married again and totally did the happy new families thing like Harlow’s not even there.” A curl of her lip. “Good thing he has me and Issie and his nutso crush on the Dragon, or he’d probably get bad friends, turn to drugs, and have greasy hair.”
Yes, definitely a mini-spitfire. One who knew how to love as fiercely as the woman who haunted Sailor’s dreams. Even when he slept, he dreamed of his Ísalind. Nope, no way was Sailor letting her go. Not this time.
* * *
THE DRIVE BACK TO AUCKLAND was surprisingly easy once Ísa managed to leave Catie. She’d waited until Martha was up and able to confirm that Catie had a busy schedule that wouldn’t be impacted by her minor injuries.
Catie had given her a crushing hug before she left. “I love you, Issie.”
The sleepless nights, the sheer terror, that made it all worth it.
A brush of knuckles against her cheek. “You still worrying about Catie?”
Not fighting the urge to rub up against those knuckles before Sailor had to return his hand to the steering wheel, Ísa said, “No. I know her independence is important to her.” More important than most girls her age. “She can be militant about it sometimes, but it didn’t feel like it today.”
“Kid’s crazy about you.”
Ísa looked at Sailor’s profile and thought, Yes, like I’m crazy about you. But she couldn’t say those terrifying words. “At least she hasn’t turned to drugs, taken up with bad friends, and started going in for greasy hair.”