The Secret (Winslow Brothers 3) - Page 76

Ty nods jerkily.

“I just need you both to sign in here and then wear these visitor badges on your shirts.”

Ty grabs the pen quickly before scribbling down his name and handing it to me. Once again, the absolute insanity of it all hits me—along with the truly horrifying fact that I’m wearing very, very little under this coat—and for the first time, I timidly attempt to beg off.

“Ty, maybe I should just wait down here or—”

“No,” he says immediately, his answer almost a bark.

I nod. I’m not going to argue anymore if he feels that strongly, even if the level of mortification in my body is rising so fast, I’m getting dangerously close to resembling an erupting volcano.

Taking the pen in my free hand, even though it’s my left and not at all the one I’m used to writing with, I scribble my info in the open notebook on the surface of the desk as quickly as possible and collect my sticker from the receptionist. Ty has us in motion before I can even blink, and we’re headed for the hall at a near run—at least, for me, anyway. His legs are much longer than my own.

He pushes the button for the elevator five times, and I just hold tight to his other hand and watch as the numbers count down at the top of the cart doors at a painfully slow pace.

My emotions are a mixed bag of wanting it to move faster along with wanting it never to come.

When it finally arrives with a ding, Ty barely lets the doors part before pulling us both inside and mashing the number four with the same manic intensity as before.

It’s startling to me just how little it seems I know about him after this many months of working together and multiple days of sleeping together. Sure, I knew he had a family and assumed that he was marginally close with them, but this isn’t the behavior of a man who calls his mom once a month and sees his siblings at the holidays.

This is the behavior of a man who’s involved. A man who cares about family.

An unexpected sting of tears rushes to my eyes as my mom’s soothing voice plays through my ears. I know you don’t understand now, sweetie, but the love of the right man is like a warm blanket. It’s not about small differences or political beliefs or the dramatic theater of the movies. It’s about a man who cares. A man who you know would devote his life to family above all else. A man whose presence is all you need to feel complete.

Those were the lessons, she said, I had to learn ahead of my time. The lessons she wanted to instill before she was gone.

On days like today, when I’m feeling as confused as I ever have, I miss her so much it feels like there’s a permanent hole in my heart.

The elevator’s journey to the fourth floor ends with a swoosh in both the cart and my belly, and I take a deep, deep breath to prepare.

Ty moves with ease down the halls, pulling me behind him until we find the room with the plaque outside that reads “Waiting Room.”

We’re inside before I can even do another breathing exercise, and the sheer number of people is immediately overwhelming. Rachel Green is no longer the only Rachel to find herself doing life in nothing more than an undergarment. I mean, thankfully I have a coat, but holy red velvet muffins in a handbasket, I hope like fuck no one offers to take it. This might just be one of the scariest moments of my life.

Buckle up, Rachel. Here we go.

Rachel

All the heads in the waiting room whip in our direction and move almost comically—and quickly—from me to Ty and hold on him. I fight the urge to curl up in a ball behind his body and stay rooted to my spot beside him, forcing my shoulders down and away from my ears.

When no attention comes back to me, instead focusing on Ty alone, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and I step a little closer to Ty without even thinking about it.

I suppose it makes sense that they’d be focused on him instead of me, but the potency of it feels…weird. I don’t know, I can’t explain it.

“Ty!” a large, similar-looking man shouts from the other side of the room, combing his way through the crowd and dragging a lithe, absolutely stunning brunette behind him. She’s the beautiful model to his strikingly handsome and well-dressed demeanor, and I have an immediate sense that this must be one of Ty’s brothers and his significant other.

Shoving through people when he has to—it’s practically fucking standing room only in here—he finally makes it to us and slaps Ty on the shoulder. “Hey, man.”

Tags: Max Monroe Winslow Brothers Romance
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