Chapter 17
Forrest stood in the kitchen after he and Jordana had made love all afternoon.
He didn’t know how long he stared in the refrigerator, because his mind wasn’t on what ingredients he had, but on how he’d never felt the kind of crazy strong connection he felt with Jordana when he’d made love to her earlier.
The knock on the front door finally jolted him from his thoughts and made him realize the refrigerator was beeping angrily since he’d been standing there so long.
Forrest closed the door after a quick glance told him what he already knew—they’d cooked everything for lunch.
They’d have to go out for dinner tonight.
Forrest looked through the window before opening the door. “You look like shit,” Forrest said as Rowan pushed through the door.
“I’ve been in the operating room for twelve straight hours and still ended up losing the child.”
“Ah hell, I’m sorry.” Rowan was the best pediatric surgeon in the country.
His stats didn’t show it because so many surgeons wouldn’t take cases where they weren’t sure of the outcome, but Rowan did.
He took the cases no one else would. Cases where the options were either to try to save a child’s life with surgery or to just sit back and watch them die.
That meant his stats weren’t what others were, but the number of lives he saved that had been told their only other option was death, was staggering.
It’s why he was the most sought-after surgeon in his field.
However, the toll that took on Rowan seemed to be growing.
“I have to get back. I thought I had the night off, but there’s a high chance there might be a heart transplant coming in for one of my patients.
I wanted to stop by and check on you two before I turn back around and head to the hospital.
I might be there another day.” Rowan had dark circles under his eyes, and it was clear he needed to see the sunlight more.
But there he was, taking care of everyone as if Gavin Faulkner, the doctor in Shadows Landing, couldn’t handle it.
“We are fine, but clearly you are not,” Jordana gasped as she limped into the room. Her eyes were full of worry as she grabbed Rowan’s face and murmured in Portuguese with the occasional tsk thrown in that conveyed her displeasure at his appearance.
“I’m fine, Jordana. But I do need to take a look at your feet.”
Jordana tsked again, folded her arms across her chest, and glared at his brother. “What you need is a woman to take care of you.”
Rowan looked shocked for a moment and shook his head. “You sound an awful lot like Damon. In case you can’t tell though, I’m the caretaker here.”
Jordana tsked again and wagged her finger in Rowan’s direction. “Everyone needs someone to care for them. You care for so many. You need someone to care for you. Now, sit back and take a nap while I whip you up something. We can’t have you going into a long surgery hungry.”
“Your feet—”
“Can wait until you eat.” Jordana put a blanket over his lap and then limped off to the kitchen.
Rowan looked back at Forrest as if he would do something. Forrest put his hand up and shook his head. “Do you think I’m stupid? I’m not gonna argue with her. Don’t worry, we don’t have much here to whip up, so I think you might be done with her exam quickly.”
There was a lot of noise coming from the same kitchen he’d not seen much food in. He turned to find Jordana mixing something in a bowl as she hummed. “Or apparently I was wrong.”
Forrest looked over at Rowan and found him fast asleep. Forrest left his brother sleeping and headed to the kitchen to see what Jordana could possibly be making. “Rowan is asleep,” he whispered to her.
“I know. I am humming a lullaby my mother used to sing to me. It always puts me to sleep in less than a minute. He needs more rest. He needs a woman to spoil him. He saves so many babies, but I heard he lost one today. I can’t imagine a parent losing a child.
And your brother sees that loss every week.
He needs love to heal the pain of those losses and to celebrate the lives he saves.
And to feed him. How can he have so many muscles yet look so skinny? ”
“I take it it’s your new mission to fatten up my brother?” Forrest asked, watching as spices were added to the bowl along with a lot of vegetables.
“I need to speak to the other sisters-in-law. We will take care of him until he finds the love that will heal him.”
Forrest smiled at that. “I like how you consider the women your sisters already. And I really love how you care enough for my brother to take care of him.”
Jordana poured the mixture into a pie tin and put it in the oven.
“Your family has already made me feel like family. It’s hard not to love them in return.
I was the odd one growing up. All my friends had big families.
I enjoyed being an only child, but I’m also enjoying getting to be a part of your family. But, I do have bad news.”
“What?” Forrest asked, ready to fix whatever it was.
“I used the last of your eggs and all your vegetables. We have no food for dinner.”
Forrest chuckled and leaned across the island to kiss her. “Then it sounds like a perfect date night out. Do you feel like Harper’s, something fancier, or some barbecue?”
“Harper’s. I had fun meeting so many people there. I liked how it felt as if you’re hanging out with family when you’re there. I’ll go change and then Rowan’s torta will be ready.”
Forrest spent the time Jordana was changing to email the foundation that gave him the grant to visit the . He made sure to tell them about the attack. Out of an abundance of caution, he also told them he had gone to Europe to work on a new project there.
The timer on the oven went off as Jordana walked back into the kitchen. She was in jeans and a top that had to be Natalie’s since it reminded him of those wrap-tops she liked to wear on her way to dance.
“Perfect timing,” he told her as he found the oven mitts and pulled out the dinner she’d made for Rowan.
“Thank you. Go wake your brother and I’ll get this packed up for him.” Forrest heard her cutting a piece and then wrapping the rest of it up as he woke Rowan.
“Crap, what time is it?” Rowan asked, jerking awake from his short nap. “And what smells so good?”
“Your dinner. Now, I won’t let you leave here until you eat at least one piece,” Jordana told him, holding out a plate and a fork. “It’s a torta. It’s very similar to a frittata.”
Rowan took a bite and moaned. “This is wonderful. Thank you, Jordana.”
“It’s the least I could do after you taking care of me.”
Rowan’s phone rang. He answered it even as he was eating. “I’m on my way. Prep the OR.”
Rowan took the rest of the slice of his dinner and finished it in two giant bites. “I have a surgery. Thank you. Truly. I’m sorry. I’ll look at your feet tomorrow. Just continue to change the bandage and use the creams.”
“Take this with you and if anyone dares to eat it but you, tell them they’ll have to deal with a pissed-off Brazilian, and they don’t want that.”
Rowan smiled at her and gave Forrest a look that clearly said he approved of them as a couple. Good, because he didn’t plan to let Jordana go.
The bar wasn’t nearly as full tonight since there wasn’t a game on. Dare, Harper’s husband, was there with Kord, one of the deputies as Harper and Georgie, Kord’s wife, hung out at the bar.
Then it was a bunch of regulars. The documentary crew was filming on Skeeter’s boat and downtown was blissfully quiet.
Well, until the Langston crew burst in like a hurricane.
Landry, who’d been a Marine Raider until he was injured in action, and his wife, Lydia, had eight children.
They were just one shy of the Townsend Nine.
“Mr. Forrest! You’re back!” Forrest caught the blonde missile of a child as she threw herself at him.
Forrest chuckled as he caught her. The Townsend brothers had become the de facto babysitters for the Langstons ever since Damon, Kane, and Wilder babysat them while their mother gave birth to little Lennie a year ago.
“Lindsey!” Forrest exclaimed. “You’ve grown since I was gone. You’re going to be in the women’s group in no time.”
“My next birthday,” she said proudly. Once a girl turned ten, they were allowed to train at the church. “Who’s that?”
Lindsey pointed to Jordana who smiled in return. “This is my girlfriend, Miss Jordana. She’s from Brazil. Do you know where that is?”
Lindsey shook her head but the older Langstons nodded. “They have super-hot models from Brazil,” Landry Jr., the eldest, told them. Forrest tried not to chuckle at the typical teenage boy response.
“I’ve seen pictures of Carnival. Have you seen it?” Lacy, the oldest girl asked Jordana. At least they didn’t seem to have an issue accepting her. They were all protective of their uncles.
“I have seen it. I go to it almost every year,” Jordana answered before Lydia took over and introduced her family.
“I bet you’d be scared of an alligator,” Levi, who was a couple of years younger than Landry Jr., said to Jordana as if challenging her.
“I don’t think I would be. I grew up with caimans. Why don’t you look them up and tell me what you think of them,” she answered. The children quickly huddled around Landry Jr.’s phone in a very animated debate.
“But, can you ride them?” Lacy finally asked.
“Ride them?” Forrest almost laughed at the look on Jordana’s face.
“Well,” little Lyle said, crossing his arms. “That settles that.” As if an eight-year-old was the decider of all things. “Alligators are better because you can surf an alligator.”
“Darn right they are,” Gator said, joining the conversation.
Forrest sat back and watched the great debate. It wasn’t about politics. It wasn’t about sports. It was about caimans versus alligators. Could life get any better?