Fractured Love (Off-Limits Romance #3)

I think how strange it is that she loves him the way she seems to. Yet, she doesn’t know my Landon. How strange that flesh and blood can fall so far apart. How strange and sad.

We stay at her house for nearly four hours, her husband, Bobby, making dinner while she talks, and Landon and his half-siblings talk politics. Somehow everyone is laughing about nothing, and everything.

We gather ’round the table, no one touching the chicken Bobby made as they listen to Landon talk about med school and residency. They’re wide-eyed as he tells them where he met me, but they seem accepting. He doesn’t mention private things, like how much he struggled on the path his mother chose for him. He doesn’t mention Ashtyn, or even his wreck, and after her initial burst of emotion, Laura seems a little more reserved.

Still, the day is perfect.

Landon’s three half-siblings—Ainsley, Kam, and Beara—are all articulate and kind. Bobby is interesting and funny, and Laura seems quick-witted and warm. When we leave, she hugs Landon’s neck and begs us to come back tomorrow.

Landon nods. “We’re here for one more day.”

He wraps his arm around me as we walk back to the car.

He almost always gets my door for me, but this time I get his. He smiles tiredly. I drive to our rented condo, where we order pizza and then climb into bed.

Our lovemaking is slow and sweet. After we finish, Landon starts again immediately. In the dark room, when we’re both sated, he pulls my body up against his, rests his cheek against my throat, and falls asleep.

A few minutes later, I get the pizza, eat two slices, and follow.

I hear something in the night and wake to find him in the adjoining family room, eating pizza, drinking ice water, and looking at a powered-off TV.

“Wild times in here.” I sit on the couch beside him, then decide that isn’t close enough, and curl up in his lap.

“I’ll show you wild times.”

And he does. Afterward, we curl up in a hammock on the balcony, and Landon pulls a blanket over us. We watch the sun rise over Charlotte, and after that, we spend the day with Laura and the rest of Landon’s family.

As we fly back to Denver, he seems different. I feel different. When we land, he asks to go see Ashtyn.

“Do you think she’d want to meet me?”

“I think she would love that.” I smile. “Actually, I happen to know. Her parents texted a while back. When do you want to go?” I ask him.

“Would you want to…now?”

I smile. “Why the hell not?”





Epilogue





Landon




January 2018

Denver, Colorado





I step into the donut room sometime in early afternoon, eager to look out at the snow I heard of as I scrubbed in on an endovascular repair. This is my first winter at 5,000 feet, and I have to say, I fucking love it. Everything is better when it’s snowing outside. I’ve loved the fluffy white stuff since childhood, and living up in Maryland didn’t dull my appreciation for it. Out here, though, it’s better. It’s draped over mountains.

I saw Evie’s name scrawled on the board for the VP shunting going on in OR 3, so when I blink around the room, I’m not expecting her.

She’s seated at the table nearest to the fridge, leaned over one of those plain avocados—a travesty, here in the donut room. She’s got her iPhone ear buds in her ears, her brows scrunched in quiet intensity. I bet she’s listening to one of those dirty novels that she’s secretly obsessed with—ones where some domineering doctor straps a naughty surgeon to a bed and gives her an exam.

I watch her scoop a bite of avocado from the shell and eat it as she stares off into space, the snowy mountains spread behind her like a postcard. It’s as if the stunning scenery exists as a mere backdrop for my much-more-stunning wife.

I grin, and wait for her to notice me. How can it be that someone skilled enough to save a life with a laser or a blade can fail to notice that another human moved into her sphere—her husband at that. I laugh as she rubs her nose. Evie doesn’t hear me. All around her shoulders, through the long glass pane, snow falls from a pale pink sky, cloaking the cityscape.

Evie’s hand reaches into her hair. She pulls her rubber band thing out and lets her tresses spill around her shoulders. Another scoop of avocado. Evie swears they’ve kept her healthy while the rest of us have coughed and sneezed our way through respiratory season.

I step closer. Finally, she jumps, and her hands fly up to her face. “Landon!” She laughs, pulling out the ear buds. “Oh my God, you scared me!”

I shake my head, tsk-ing. “Eating avocado in the donut room.”

“We shouldn’t have a donut room, Landon. This is a hospital.”

I grab a chocolate one and claim the chair beside hers. “So I’ve heard.”

“Those things are awful for you. I know I might eat them sometimes, but—”

“You mean all the time?” I laugh.

“I don’t eat them all the time.” She sniffs. “I have one maybe once or twice a week.”

She’s lying—even to herself, poor girl. She eats one almost every day. We all do. Typical doctorly hypocrisy, I guess…or maybe we need to do something that defies the awful truths we know. One day we’ll all be gone, so why not eat a fucking donut?

“Sure you do,” I tease her. I reach over, thumb the corner of her mouth.

“What are you doing?”

“Little flake of icing there.” I smirk, and Evie kicks my leg.

“I have not had one of those today. Or yesterday.”

I chuckle, and her lips scrunch. “Okay—maybe yesterday. But only half of one.”

I grin, shaking my head. The truth is, I give zero fucks, but it’s fun teasing her. Teasing Evie is the best part of my day. Well, second behind some other things that only happen on the second floor.

I reach down into my bag and pull out the newspaper. Ev arches her brows.

“There’s nothing wrong with being informed,” I inform her.

She shakes her head. “Mmm-hmmm.”

Sometimes I can’t believe I’m married to a woman who hates politics.

“So how’s it going?” She props her chin in her palm and looks up at me with her blue eyes. It’s a dreamy look—the one she gets sometimes only for me. “How’s your morning going?”

“Pretty sure it’s afternoon.”

She looks down at her phone. “Oh yeah—I guess it is.”

“It’s been good. Busy but good. How was that VP shunting?”

“Good.” She smiles. “You jealous?”

“Nahh.” They did the surgery on a baby, placing a shunt to help him live a normal life with a condition called hydrocephalus. I’ve been on two, and both times, I felt like a fucking champ. Working with kids is always like that for me.

“Eilert let me do a lot,” she says, getting another scoop of avocado.

“Sweet.”