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Slow Dancing (The Second Chances Series Book 4) by Isobelle Cate (5)

 

 

 

Bethany gritted her teeth at the long queue of vehicles going into the parking lot and the main entrance of the hospital. Why did a quarter of the population suddenly have to go to the hospital on this particular night?

“I’ll run up to the A&E instead.” She fished out whatever money she had in her purse. She squeaked when the taxi moved abruptly forward and she was forced back on the seat.

“Hey.” Her voice rose but the taxi driver didn’t acknowledge her. She settled in her seat fuming and indignant. The moment the taxi made another abrupt stop in front of the A&E entrance, Bethany jumped out and paid the driver through the window.

“That’s the only money I have,” she said before running into the entrance. She owed him a quid, so what? She appreciated she was in a rush but with that kind of driving where they nearly hit the back of a lorry with broken tail lights, it was a wonder she didn’t hurl inside the cab or that they’d met an accident.

“Can you tell me where I can find Joseph Brooke?” she asked the A&E reception. “He came by ambulance here.”

“Bear with me one second.” The receptionist continued typing on the keyboard and did a double take at seeing Bethany’s thick make-up.

Just try it. She arched an eyebrow in challenge. She would have put up with the receptionist’s look before her entire life had taken a nose dive. That nose dive now became her saving grace.

“Bethany?”

She whirled around at her mother’s soft voice. Her heart plummeted at her mother’s splotchy face and puffy eyes.

“Mum?” She braced herself for the worst.

“They’re still waiting for the consultant to arrive. Why do they take so long?”

Bethany rushed to her mother just as her mother started sobbing in earnest to the interest of some sitting in the waiting area. Others who Bethany saw were in their own level of pain looked away.

Cora Brooke had always been a fighter and a survivor. Now she looked so fragile enough to break if she crumbled to the floor, or fly away if a gust of wind blew through the hospital’s entrance.

Bethany gathered her mother into her arms and ushered her to a spare seat before a very irate and loud mouthed man nearly shoved them both away to take the seat himself. Bethany glared at him, her lips thinning but he didn’t care. He had so much gold chain to weigh him down on the seat and never get up. Hell’s Kitchen could learn a thing or two from him. She looked around, but those waiting either averted their stares or had their noses in their phones. Her gut churned with remembrance…

No.

She steered them both away from the waiting area where the triage nurse called out the next patient. They passed through a long corridor leading to the hospital’s main entrance and the 24 hour coffee shop. Bethany had just inserted the coins to get her and her mother coffee when a woman in scrubs looked around and approached them.

“Mrs Brooke.” The woman gave Bethany a quick smile and turned to Cora. “I’m Sylvia Hanniker one of the registrars. Your husband is in the resuscitation room and may be a while there.”

“How is he?” Bethany asked. “I’m his daughter.”

“Hi,” she said smiling briefly. “The consultant is with him at the moment. They have had to put a stent in.” She paused when Cora gasped. “It will be some time before he wakes from the procedure.”

“Will he have to stay?”

Sylvia inclined her head. “Yes but I won’t know for how long. Why don’t you go home first? He’s going to be sleeping for some time. Or else you can stay in the relatives’ lounge.”

“I’ll stay. I want to be here when he wakes. He’ll want to see a familiar face.” Cora’s voice was thick but strong. “It doesn’t matter how long I have to wait.”

“What happened?” Bethany sat beside her mother, her arm around her. If she could carry the weight that seemed to pull her mother down, she would in a heartbeat.

“Dad collapsed at home after taking the rubbish out,” her mother replied. “If I hadn’t been waiting for him by the door…”

“The more important thing is that you did.” Bethany squeezed her shoulder. “And he’s getting the care he needs.”

Cora covered her face with her hands.

“Thank you.” Bethany said with gratitude.

“Okay.” Sylvia replied. “I’ll try and keep you posted. Will you be okay? I think I can spare a few minutes with you both.”

“There’s no need. I’ll take care of them.” A male voice entered their conversation.

Time froze. Even turning her head proved to be a chore until her gaze collided with amber brown eyes that always looked at her as though she was the most precious thing on earth.

“Drake.” She took an indrawn breath. Like that was going to calm the jitterbugs inside. “What are you doing here? How did—”

“Sorry, cara. He insisted. Besides it was better than waiting for a taxi.” Cinzia lifted her shoulder. She tutted. “Mama Brooke I’m sorry to hear about Papa Brooke.”

“I’ll come back when I have something.” Sylvia nodded and returned to A&E.

Cinzia approached Cora and Bethany giving her an ‘I had no choice’ expression before plastering a smile on her mouth. “Come Mama Brooke, I see Bettina was about to get you something to drink. Let me do that and then we sit, yes? Let Bettina and her friend talk.”

“Cinzia,” Bethany hissed. She had no time for this.

“What?” Her friend looked unperturbed before turning to Drake. “I’ll be watching you.”

Cora stood from the table and reached out to pat Drake’s arm.

“It’s good to see you again, Drake.” Her smile shone through her worry.

He squeezed her hand in response. “Good to see you too, Cora.”

Cinzia gently ushered her towards another table at the far end of the café. The farther Cinzia and her mother was the louder Bethany’s heart thudded in her ears. She wrapped her coat tighter around her body while she shifted from one heeled foot to the other. She used to be able to speak to Drake candidly. He’d always have a ready smile that made his eyes twinkle. She’d know then he was just indulging her even if there was darkness lurking behind his amusement.

Now she couldn’t even manage a wise crack.

She flicked her hair away from her nape and when her hand brushed her left ear and her hearing aid. It was so much part of her life now that she often forgot she wore one. She mustered as much courage as she could find inside herself which was difficult when faced with the boy who broke her heart a long time ago, leaving her bewildered. He was replaced by a man who now made her heart stutter in her chest and brought the flame she had doused so long ago, flicker back to life.

The angles of Drake’s face were sharper. His jaw was harder than she remembered and sexier with a hint of stubble. The scar above his left eye was still there—the one she had nursed first—before taking care of her own skinned knees when she was thrown out of the way by their common enemy. His nose was no longer as straight as she remembered, but not crooked either. A fight, maybe? It suited him, made him ruggedly handsome. His body was thick with muscles and he didn’t have that overly narrow waist Bethany often saw on gym rats. No, his came from a lot of hard work that may have included dislocating a jaw or two. She liked it. More hardness to cling to.

Where were you the whole time Drake Rosen? What happened to you?

And his mouth…oh Lord. His lips were firmer—seemed more at home sneering than smiling. And just like that, the ghost of Drake’s lips on her mouth tumbled forward from the past to make her curious how they would feel on her now.

Stop!

She looked away, drawing an inward breath to calm her nerves. She forced her thoughts to veer away from going down an impossible path. Nothing could ever bring them together now.

Drake ran his fingers through his hair. His mouth curved to a wan, almost indecisive smile. Drake Rosen, indecisive? That was a first.

“Are you still reading my face?”

Busted.

Her cheeks flamed beneath copious amounts of foundation.

“I…” Damn it, why couldn’t she talk?

Drake’s eyes crinkled at the sides as he let out a soft chuckle.

“I don’t blame you,” he said. “I’m not the same person I used to be.”

Just like Drake to always give her a way out.

“You’ve changed, Bee.” Now he was scrutinizing her, making her squirm. She looked away, forcing herself to think and stop feeling. But she couldn’t. She was holding on to a thin thread of willpower here when all she wanted to do was thrown herself at him and ask to take her away.

“So have you,” she replied, her mouth quirking.

A puzzled light entered his eyes. “What happened to you?”

Bethany puffed a humourless laugh.

“Life happened.”

“I looked everywhere for you.”

“Did you?” Her brow rose. She smashed the hope down before it ballooned in her soul. “Why?”

Drake placed his hands into his pockets and looked down at the floor. “Because I didn’t say goodbye.”

Bethany looked away. He looked for her only to say goodbye? The whole time she believed Drake had forgotten her…

She inhaled deeply, the pang of bittersweet memories mixing with a desire to move closer. Some cold comfort that was when her dreams of a happy ever after had now become a happy never be.

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, Drake. We’ve moved on.”

“Bee —”

She jerked her head from side to side expelling a loud sigh.

“I can’t do this,” she mumbled walking away from the boy she had fallen in love with.

Drake’s hand shot out stopping her.

“Let’s go outside.” His voice was congenial but there was a steely edge to it, one she hadn’t heard before. One that meant he was in control. Her stomach flipped at his touch, the warmth of his hand seeping through her clothes, the frisson of electricity moving from her elbow to spread through her body. He held her firmly, but gave her leeway to move away.

She didn’t.

The thought of Drake’s fingers on every part of her body caused her to draw in another breath, taking with it his woodsy cologne and light musk into her lungs. The possibilities that traipsed across her mind swirled in a slow dance. Sweating bodies, tangled legs, and racing hearts. Fevered kisses for the longest make up session in history.

Don’t forget.

The cold air outside A&E hit her face bringing her back to reality. They walked along the smooth path before Drake let her go as his phone rang. Swearing softly, he ended the call without answering. Lights from the hospital entrance and the ambulance’s blue lights cast light and shadow over Drake’s stony visage. He faced her, haloed by the carpark lights. Ethereal white framing the dark avenging angel before her. His eyes could have blazed red like the Terminator’s but it wasn’t necessary because Bethany felt their heat drilling a hole into her soul, warming instead of scarring her.

“Okay, Bee. Talk.”