Heartthrob (The Bennett Brothers 3)

“What are you doing here?” I turn in my seat to face Mathis.

“I have news so great, it had to be delivered in person. Clint was on r

ounds, so I invited him.”

My heart swells, knowing what he’s going to tell me immediately. “Josh is going home.”

“He’s going home.”

Bizzy and Grace suck in an audible breath.

“There’s a very excited young man waiting to be discharged that’s asking to see his favorite nurse before he goes.”

“Absolutely, we’re almost finished here.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Bizzy and Grace exchange a glance. Mathis catches it, too.

“Something wrong?” I swing my attention to them.

“Nope, not at all,” Bizzy replies a bit too chirpy.

“Grace?”

“No.” Her response is unconvincing.

“Son of a bitch.” Mathis slaps his hand on the table. “I totally fucking forgot.”

“Forgot what?” Now, I’m confused.

“We had a little surprise after lunch. We were going to take you to register and then had an appointment at the bridal boutique. That dress you love was delivered this morning in your size.”

All the breath leaves my lungs. That dress was on a six-week back delay. The saleslady was apologetic she couldn’t rush order it. With the wedding timeline and the customizations I wanted to make, I’d given up hope and settled on finding something else. One look at Grace’s face and I know she had something to do with getting it here this soon.

I stare between them, trying to communicate without words how much it means to me. The waitress chooses this moment to return with the menus. They order quickly, and she bounces away, clearly riding the high of serving celebrities.

“We can go tomorrow,” Grace breaks into the silence.

Mathis reaches for my hand, linking his finger with mine and tugging gently, bringing my attention to him. “Baby, the discharge probably will take a few hours. Go with the girls. I’ll text you updates.”

“But I may miss him,” I whisper lightly.

“I don’t mean to intrude, but I have an idea,” Clint breaks in. “Why don’t we all go? Give the boy a send-off he’ll never forget.”

“That’s a great idea,” Bizzy agrees.

“I’ll call the bridal shop and re-arrange our appointment time. It won’t be a problem,” Grace adds, grabbing her phone. The truth is, for most customers it would be a huge problem to change the appointment. But not for Nick Bennett’s wife.

“Thanks, Grace.” Mathis shoots her an appreciative look.

“She got my dress in time,” I say for only him to hear, my brain going back to the dress.

He squeezes my hand. “It was a combined effort, but yes, your dress is here.”

“And I’m going to get to customize it.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know how to thank her.”