Wife by Design

But Darin wasn’t going to know that.

“I want to go to the beach,” Darin said. “I want to see the boats come in.”

So they went. A couple of miles from their modest neighborhood was a public access area where they could sit and watch the fishing boats come into Santa Raquel’s very small, noncommercial pier.

In the distance, an occasional cruise ship traveling up the coast from San Diego or L.A. might appear, riding out the ocean’s waves. Some yachts. Or commercial fishing boats that were headed to other ports.

“I want to dive again.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, Grant, I do.”

He took a deep breath and pinched the skin on his nose, though he had no idea what that was supposed to do. It didn’t relieve any tension.

“What about your arm?”

“It’s getting better.”

“Then when it does, we’ll talk about this again.”

“I don’t want to talk about it again.” Darin’s focus didn’t leave the ocean. “I want to dive again.”

The words “What if your arm doesn’t get better?” were on the tip of his tongue. They would probably end the conversation. And there was a chance Darin would never bring diving up again.

But Grant studied Darin and bit the words right off his tongue. He couldn’t lock Darin up any further than the injury his brother had sustained attempting to save a life had already done.

“Until my arm is better, I’d have to stay shallow.”

Grant didn’t know what to say.

And Darin turned to look at him. “I can’t go alone, Grant. I’d need you to go with me.”

Darin was completely, one-hundred-percent serious.

And so Grant did the only thing he could do. He said, “Okay.” And promised to make the plans.

* * *

“HEY, LYNNIE.”

She’d known it was Brandon before she’d picked up the call, but the sound of his voice, using his pet name for her, still shot sharply through her.

“Hi, what’s up?” She didn’t feel like his “Lynnie” anymore.

“I got a favor to ask.” He sounded hesitant. And her heart reached out to him. Because it always had.

And, she’d come to realize, it always would. She didn’t stop loving someone just because he had a biological predilection that couldn’t be helped.

“What favor?”

Walking by the door to Kara’s bedroom, she peeked in at the exhausted little girl sleeping in her princess bed—a white wooden bed with a canopy on top that Brandon had spent a couple of hours putting together for her the previous summer, when they’d thrown a moving-into-a-big-bed ceremony.

Just the three of them.

As if they were a family again.

“It’s a big favor.” Brandon wasn’t getting right to the point, which didn’t bode well.

She and Maddie had worn Kara out at the mall. Lynn had made macaroni and cheese with peas in it for dinner when they got home and Kara had fallen asleep at the table.

“You sound tired. What’s going on?” she asked him.

It was only eight-thirty. The evening stretched ahead of her.

Without turning on any lights, she settled on the sectional in the great room, looking out the sliding glass door to the garden beyond.

It needed more landscape lighting.

And she knew someone who did that sort of thing….

“Douglas was in a car accident this morning. Some guy was drunk and ran a red light.”

She sat up. “Oh, my gosh, Bran, I’m so sorry!” And then, more slowly, “Is he okay?”

“He’s going to be. He’s got a couple of broken bones, some stitches and lots of bruising, but if he does well tonight, I’ll be able to bring him home in the morning.”

“Good, so that means no internal injuries.”

“Surprisingly not. He wasn’t going that fast and had his seat belt on. Also he was hit broadside on the passenger’s side of the car.”

“Thank goodness for that. Is he fully conscious? Have you been able to talk to him?”

“Yeah, he just ate a good dinner. I’m staying here with him tonight.”

“You’re at the hospital?”

“Yeah. He’s resting and I needed to call you….”