Must Be Wright (The Wrights 3)

Gypsy teared up with pride in her son and disappointment in both Wyatt and in herself. If she’d been putting Cooper first, the way she should, this wouldn’t be happening. She wouldn’t have let Wyatt get close, Wyatt wouldn’t have put her name on Belle’s intake form, and Gypsy would be at Cooper’s doctor appointment right now the way a good mom would be.

She let the kids step out of the office before turning to Deanna and lowering her voice when she said, “I’m not related to Belle. How am I going to get her care at the ER?”

Deanna offered a copy of the page that listed Gypsy as Belle’s emergency contact. “Show them this, but you shouldn’t have any problem. The law allows for minors to receive emergency medical care without a parent’s consent. I would have taken her myself, but we’ve had a run of the flu lately, and I had other sick kids in the office. One is still waiting for his dad. If they have any questions about Belle’s accident, just have them call this number.” She pointed at a number handwritten on the form. “This is my cell. They can reach me anytime. I’ll call ahead and let them know you’re coming.”

Gypsy blew out a breath and nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

Deanna helped them to the car with kisses for Belle and a supportive smile for Gypsy. Once on the road, Gypsy used her console to put in another call to Wyatt.

The call immediate connected to his voicemail, and Gypsy’s heart dropped. Her mind darted to possible solutions to this situation. She could call Dylan or Emma, Miranda or Jack, but they were all working, and there was no telling how long it would take them to get free.

She had to accept it. There was no way Cooper was getting to the doctor’s office in time for his appointment, which meant there would be no superhero camp for her boy. Emma could sign off on his physical, but she couldn’t disobey hospital protocol regarding vaccinations without jeopardizing her job. Gypsy’s only hope was that Emma was working in the ER and could vaccinate Cooper while also treating Belle’s arm.

She put in a call to Dylan.

“Hey,” Dylan answered. “What’s up?”

“Hi. Sorry to bug you—”

“You never bug me. How many times do I need to tell you that?”

Gypsy wondered if she’d ever feel like she wasn’t bugging her family. Maybe when she could stop using them as overnight babysitters. “Thanks. I’m calling to see if Emma’s working today.”

“No, no,” he said. Their daughter’s sweet cooing sound came over the speaker. “She worked noon to twelve yesterday, so she’s sleeping. She has today off, but she’ll probably be awake in a few hours. I’ll have her call you.”

Gypsy’s last hope circled the drain, right along with her self-esteem. “No, that’s okay. But thanks. I’ll check in with you guys tomorrow.”

Gypsy stopped at a red light and closed her eyes on a flood of self-recrimination. She’d made her share of mistakes with Cooper, but there was no doubt that this was her biggest mom-fail to date.

And, shit, he was only three years old.

Right then and there, she reupped her dedication to focusing on giving Cooper everything she’d never had in a mother, which meant keeping men out of her life.

Even Wyatt Jackson.

17

Wyatt and Paisley strummed their guitars while they sang the lyrics they’d written together.

Paisley stopped singing and reached over her guitar for the pencil to make a note on the music sheet. “You’re right, that last note should definitely be a G.”

They played it again with the new chords and smiled at each other, knowing they’d gotten it right.

“Man,” Wyatt said, setting his guitar aside. “My agent’s going to be stoked that we finished this.”

“Mine too.” Paisley stood and stretched. “It’s amazing how much work you can get done when you’re hidden in the basement.”

Wyatt would hardly call this space a basement. It was a completely soundproofed music studio with all the bells and whistles. And he’d really enjoyed his time with Paisley. It felt good to work again. To sing and play and compose again. He loved his work. He also loved the idea of building his own studio so he could continue working and producing while staying closer to Gypsy and Cooper and Belle.

They had a sweet little family forming, and the idea of it made Wyatt smile. Made him tingle inside.

A knock came at the studio door, then it opened, and Paisley’s son bounced in. He was a little younger than Cooper and dressed in footy pajamas, his hair wet like he’d just come out of the bath.

Pajamas. Bath. A strike of fear pierced Wyatt’s chest.

While Paisley cuddled with her son, Wyatt cut a look around the studio for some reference to the time, but there were no windows, so he couldn’t look outside. He reached for his phone in his back pocket, but it was gone. He cut a look around the horizontal surfaces and caught sight of it through the windows to the mixing room.

He pushed to his feet with the weirdest sensation of panic trilling across his nerves. “What time is it?”