He’d gone beyond fear. He was straight up terrified.
“We have a tiny ICU here—two rooms. Right now the other room is empty, which means you are the sole occupant of the waiting room. If you’re truly worried that your children will overstep their bounds and try to press the visitation issue, then you need to make a list and only those on the list will have access.”
“Then they’ll have to go through eye-recognition software, thumbprint scanners and all that fancy tech stuff?”
She smiled. “Not quite. But the regular rules state no kids under twelve, one person at a time, no one who’s been in a foreign country for the previous six months, no one with an autoimmune disease…and anyone on your blacklist.”
“Lemme think on it.”
“Good idea.”
“Am I allowed to leave?”
“Of course. But anytime you leave this environment you take a chance. I understand that people have jobs and lives. But if you can put it on hold for the duration, that’d be best. And it’ll also…prove to your kids that you’re not just paying lip service to the infection threat.”
“Thank you. I…” Carson didn’t know what else to say.
“It’s my job. I’ll get everything set up so you can spend a few minutes with her before the twenty-four hour isolation starts. I’ll be back in half an hour.”
Okay. He could keep himself occupied for thirty minutes.
His thoughts bounced all around the place. But after he’d calmed a bit, one memory jumped front and center. The first time he saw her at the dancehall…
Chapter Two
Fifty years earlier…
“See that sexy blonde over there? I’m gonna marry her.”
Calvin McKay squinted at his twin brother Carson as if he’d grown horns. “What the hell, Carse? Who you eyeballin’ now?”
Carson pointed with his beer bottle to the woman leaning against the bar, trying to look as if she was a regular at this honky-tonk—and failing miserably. His eyes moved over her, slowly, so he didn’t miss an inch of her curves.
Sweet Jesus she was sweet.
With her long sweep of honey-blonde hair, heart-shaped face and full lips outlined with red lipstick, she commanded a lustful second, third and fourth look from every man in the room.
So why was she still alone?
Because she’s waiting for you.
“Who is she?” Cal asked.
“No idea. Never seen her around here before.” Women who looked like her were in short supply in Wyoming.
“Maybe she’s just passin’ through,” Cal offered.
“Then I’d better make my move and convince her to stay permanently.” Carson drained his beer and adjusted his hat. “How do I look?”
“How much you been drinkin’? You never give a shit about that.”
“It’s never mattered before.”
Cal shook his head. “Right. You’re so full of it.”
“I’m serious.”
“Fine. You look like you’re already imagining her in the cab of your truck with her skirt pushed up and her panties pushed down, while you’re pounding away between her thighs.”