The Match (It Happened in Charleston 1)

Something in me knows. “Is it Sam? Is she okay?”

He nods, and I didn’t realize that I had walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his middle, but apparently, I did, because his hand is wrapping around my shoulder, and he mumbles a few replies to his mom before he says he’s on his way and hangs up.

“Sam had a seizure,” he says, gripping my shoulder like he needs me to help hold him up. “But she’s okay. Apparently, she went upstairs to get her PJs on, and then Daisy rushed back downstairs and started alerting my mom. Sam did fall, but it was on the carpet, and Daisy rolled her on her side just like she and Sam practiced. She stayed with Sam and hasn’t left her side since the seizure ended.” I see Jake’s eyes welling with tears, and I squeeze him tighter. “Daisy made sure she was safe.”

I smile. “Good. That’s so good, Jake.”

He nods and squeezes my shoulder again. “I need to get home to Sam, though.”

“Right, of course.” I let go of him and look back toward the venue. “Let me just go get Charlie, and we can go.”

“We? You’re going to come with me?”

I freeze, hoping that wasn’t presumptuous of me to invite myself along. “Oh, I’m sorry, you probably just want it to be a family—”

“No,” he quickly cuts me off and grabs my hand. He raises it to his mouth and lays a soft slow kiss just under my palm. “I want you to come with me. But I kno

w you have the fundraiser going on here and probably don’t need to leave.”

I smile. “You and Sam are most important to me. Joanna can handle the fundraiser just fine without me.” I fully intend to find out who that woman was at Jake’s house later, but for now, I’m not going to let anything else get in the way of my happiness with this man. I trust him again. And he trusts me. We’ll figure out the rest later.

A slow smile spreads across Jake’s mouth, and then, before I have time to breathe, he tugs me up closer to him and captures my mouth with his. His hands are on my jaw, and then they slide down my bare back to press me up closer to him. His lips shift gears back and forth from tender to firm to demanding, and I’m just trying to keep up. The kiss doesn’t last long enough, but it certainly did enough damage that I touch my fingers to my swollen lips when we part. I blink, feeling drugged, and then start walking. Jake turns me around so I’m actually headed in the right direction.

“Right. This way. Okay, so I’ll just be right back.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

JAKE

Evie and I got home about twenty minutes ago. We both raced up the stairs together to get to Sam’s room. She was still on the floor when I got there with her head resting on Daisy. My mom is still a little nervous about Sam’s seizures, and this was the first one she had ever been present for, so she wasn't sure whether it was safe to move Sam to her bed or not.

Sam is in her postictal period of her seizure, and I know that, like Evie’s seizure the other day, she won’t feel or respond like herself for a while yet. Her episode progressed normally and didn’t last too long (Mom was able to time it, thanks to Daisy coming to get her at the start of it), so I felt good about letting her just rest here at home and not taking her into the hospital. I drop down to my knees, though, and brush her hair away from her face to plant a kiss on her forehead. She smiles and mumbles a “Hi, Daddy” that feels like an instant balm to my heart.

“Hi, kiddo. We’re here now, and you’re safe.”

She hears me say we, and Sam’s eyes peek open and instantly find Evie. Her little hand reaches up, and Evie takes it, coming to kneel down on Sam’s other side. In short, Sam is surrounded, head to toe, by people who love her.

Evie adjusts so that her legs are curled up beside her, her fancy evening gown draped around her, and she leans in closer to Sam to continually brush her fingers in such a motherly way across my daughter’s hairline. It’s a sight that will likely stick with me until the day I die.

“Do you want some water, darlin’?” Evie asks, and Sam nods yes.

I go downstairs, trying to catch my breath while I fill up a glass of water for my daughter. It’s been a heck of a day, and the minimal amount of sleep I got last night is catching up to me. Once the water glass is filled, I set it on the counter and unbutton my cuffs to roll up my sleeves.

My mom walks into the kitchen and comes around the island with a look that tells me to brace for a good, old-fashioned, Southern-mama-bear hug. That’s exactly what she gives me. I squeeze her small frame back, kiss the top of her head, and thank her for taking care of Sam tonight.

Finally, she pulls away and smiles up at me, patting my cheek like she’s a hundred-year-old senior citizen in a nursing home rather than the spunky 57-year-old mother that she is. “I’m gonna get going.”

“Are you sure? I can make you some tea or something…” I’m not even sure if my mom drinks hot tea (or if I have any in my pantry), but it seems like a comforting thing to offer after the evening she’s just gone through with Sam.

She looks at me with that same smile that I’m just now realizing is heavy with hidden meaning behind it and shakes her head. “I’ll make some tea at home with your dad. I love you, Jakey. Go be with your family.”

Ah. My family. So that’s what was with the secret smile.

“You know we haven’t even had the let’s-be-a-couple talk yet, right?”

She shrugs, slings her leather purse over her shoulder, and heads for the door. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve got eyes, and I know what I see. And what I saw up there was a family.” With those parting words, she leaves the house.

I can just picture the self-satisfied smirk she’ll be wearing during her whole drive home. She loves leaving a house on a monumental final thought.