One hand reached around and cupped her breast through the lace of her bra, and she groaned into his mouth as she wiggled against him, needing to be closer, needing him inside her.
She was reaching for his belt buckle when the shrill sound of the phone ringing made them both jump. They ended the kiss and broke apart.
Grace laughed. “We’re acting like we’ve just gotten caught necking in the basement,” she said.
“Or like we just got interrupted before the good part.”
“Every part is a good part. But you’d better answer. It might be a client who is in desperate need of saving,” she told him before leaning forward and kissing his neck.
“I have voice mail,” he groaned.
“Well . . .” She was so tempted to be irresponsible. But she stopped kissing his neck and lifted the receiver, putting it to his ear before she leaned over to his other side and ran her tongue along the side of his jaw.
“Camden Whitman.” The greeting didn’t sound friendly, which made Grace want to giggle again.
Any impulse to laugh died away when she felt his body stiffen—and not in a good way. Leaning back, she looked at his suddenly ashen face.
“I’m on my way.” He hung up the phone and looked at her as if his world had just ended.
“What is it, Cam? Tell me!” she asked as she cupped his cheeks.
“It . . . it’s my dad.”
She’d never heard his voice so strained before. “Oh, no. What’s wrong?” She almost didn’t want to know.
“He’s at the hospital. My brother thinks it might be a stroke . . .”
Grace knew she had to keep it together for Cam’s sake. Swallowing her own fear, she climbed from his lap and held out a hand.
“I’ll drive you. Let’s go.”
Cam slowly got to his feet, looking lost, looking like the young boy she remembered from so long ago. Everything else could wait. Right now she needed to be there for the man she loved.
Grace was grateful she knew the route to the hospital well enough to drive it with her eyes closed. Okay, maybe not quite that well.
Cam sat beside her, pale, his hands trembling. Her own hands were clenched tightly on the wheel to make sure he didn’t see them shaking. The entire community loved Martin Whitman. If something were to happen to him, she couldn’t imagine how the town would react. It would fall apart. He was the glue that held the place together.
“He’s going to be okay, Cam. He’s too strong and too stubborn to ever let anything happen to him.”
“I know. I’ll just feel better when I get inside and get more information.”
When they finally arrived, they rushed from the car and into the emergency department, where they found Cam’s brothers, their wives, and many other people from the community.
“Why aren’t you in there with Dad?” Cam asked Spence, his voice shaking in panic.
“You know I can’t work on him, Cam, and anyway, I’m a surgeon, not a neurologist,” Spence reminded him. “They’re keeping us updated. It does look like it was a stroke, but Eileen was with him, and they got him here fast.”
“I want to go back there. Get me back there,” Cam demanded.
“You have to calm down, brother,” Jackson said. “It’s bad enough that they’re working on their boss’s father. They don’t need you in there shouting at them.”
“He may be telling you to calm down, but those were the words I just said to him five minutes ago,” Alyssa told him.
“We have a good staff here, Cam, and he got in here without any delay. He’s going to be okay,” Sage assured him, and she threw her arms around her brother-in-law.
“I know, Sage. I just need to see him. Did you see him?”
“Yes. I was in back working when Martin came in. I thought it best that I come out here,” she told Camden. “He was already speaking better by the time he got here. They’re getting him all hooked up and taking scans. The first hour after a stroke is critical, and Eileen got him here quickly.”
Grace looked at Sage and then over at Eileen. Bethel was holding the poor woman as she sobbed quietly in a corner of the waiting room.
“What time did this happen?” Grace asked as two and two started coming together.
“I think about an hour ago now,” Sage answered, and then her eyes widened as she looked at Grace.
Before anyone figured out what the two of them were thinking, the doctor came through the doors, and everyone turned to hear what he had to say.
“Thanks for your patience, Dr. Whitman. We have information about your father. Do you want to follow me into the back?”
“No, that’s okay, Dr. Eiseman, everyone here is family, or family friends, and we all want to know what’s happening,” Spence replied.
“Okay. I’ll explain this so everyone can understand,” he told Spence before looking out at the rest of the group, who were standing by tensely.
“Martin had what we call a transient ischemic attack, TIA stroke for short, or what a lot of people call a ministroke. Some don’t give these strokes the proper attention, but this is a warning, and you need to take it very seriously. A small clot traveled to his brain, and though we’re still going through the scans, it looks like the episode isn’t going to leave any lasting symptoms. We’re very optimistic that there won’t be any permanent brain damage.”
“Then can we see him?”
“He’s getting transferred now,” Dr. Eiseman said, “but I want to repeat that TIAs are often a warning, letting us know we need to make some lifestyle changes so a major stroke doesn’t follow.”