60. CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
At some point during the flight, Eoghan rented a car to get us from the airport to the hospital.
When a Grand Wagoneer rolls up, my jaw drops at the size of it.
“We don’t need something this big.” I reach to open the door handle but snap back, remembering what he said to me.
I open the door for you.
He’s next to me a second later and opens the door. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m a big guy. I like a lot of leg room. You need something big, too. And I’ve got it right here.” He grabs his package.
If he wasn’t smoldering hot, a great kisser, and fucked and licked my pussy like a champ, I’d be offended.
At the end of the day, he makes good on all his boasting.
I find the hospital on the Nav screen and breathe in relief when I see it’s only five miles from the airport. Eoghan made this incredible sacrifice for me, I would hate for him to drive a few more hours after the flight.
The roads are winding and wet from a recent downpour. It’s typical for this area to get lot of rain in December. But North of Reno gets pounded with snow. Signs for the hospital bring us right into the parking lot.
“You can leave me here,” I say, unsnapping my belt.
“Leave you where?” he says when he pulls up to the lobby.
“At the hospital. You don’t have to come in.”
“Yes, I do. I’m not making you face this alone.”
“She broke her hip. She’s not on life support.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
A man walks toward the SUV, waving us out of the fire zone. “You can’t park that here.”
Eoghan gets out, his face even, or maybe it’s murderous.
“My wife’s mother was rushed here. We just flew in from Vegas, and this is a rental.” He tosses his keys at the guy. “Keep it.”
“I’ll have it valeted,” the security guard changes his tune.
Eoghan opens my door and, with his hand on the small of my back, steers me inside. “Parking solved.”
“Your wife?” I whisper. “Did I pass out and marry you during the flight?”
“If that’s what it takes,” he murmurs.
“What?” I stumble, shocked because he didn’t elaborate when he said he wasn’t looking for a girlfriend.
“Nothing.” He directs me to the visitor’s desk. “Come on. Ma is waiting.”
I hate that I love how it sounded to be called his wife. How people respond to him, his power, and confidence.
At the sign-in desk, Eoghan takes control.
“Elena Diamond,” he says to the receptionist.
“ID?”
Reaching for my wallet, I stare at Eoghan. “How did you know my mother’s name?”
He shakes his head and breathes against my neck, “Sparkles, sparkles, sparkles…”