“Hospital food.” He makes a face, and I smile, watching him set down his phone near his hip on the bed.

“It’s not so bad.”

“If you don’t have taste buds, it’s not bad. Unfortunately, mine are still working.”

Laughing, I hand him his pills then pick up his standard pink hospital cup and hand that to him as well. “Tomorrow, when you get out of here, you can go out to dinner and have whatever you’d like,” I murmur, watching him tip the tiny plastic cup back and swallow the pills before taking a gulp of water. Handing me back the cup, his eyes move to my badge clipped to my top.

“So, Harmony Mayson, are you offering to take me out?” he asks and I shift uncomfortably. He’s not a bad-looking guy. He’s cute in that wholesome boy next door kind of way, with dirty blond hair that is cut short and parted at the side, and blue eyes that stand out against his tan skin. Too bad for him, my mind has suddenly become obsessed with wild and untamable.

Laughing awkwardly, I shake my head. “Sorry, no, but I will help you to the bathroom,” I say, and he shrugs.

“I guess I’ll take what I can get.”

With a smile, I help him out of bed and into his wheelchair then take him into the bathroom. After he finishes, I get him back into bed then leave him to get some sleep. The rest of the night goes by quickly between admitting our new patient, running meds, and doing paperwork. When I finally get off, I’m exhausted and thankful I only have a few more days of having to drive an hour to return home.

***

Surrounded by boxes, standing in my new living room, I blow a piece of hair out of my face and continue to put away my books and knickknacks on the white shelves at either side of the fireplace. The house is coming together quickly thanks to my family. My mom was not kidding when she told me she would get me packed up and moved out of my apartment by the weekend. In fact, she did it all in two days. When I got home from work the day before yesterday, Monday, I found out she, my aunts, my sister, and my cousins had packed up my apartment from top to bottom. They even cleaned out my fridge and freezer, the bathroom, and around the boxes and furniture, so I didn’t have to.

Yesterday, my first day off work, my dad, brothers, and uncles got my stuff put into a moving truck and parked it out front of my new house. Last night, I stayed with my mom and dad in town, and today’s been a whirlwind of family coming over to help empty the truck, set up my furniture, and store stuff away. About two hours ago, my parents left to return the moving truck and to go eat, and everyone else besides, June and July took off not long after, with plans to come back tomorrow to help finish putting together the furniture they had dismantled.

I pick up and unwrap one more of my snow globes out of the box I’m unpacking and shake it before setting it on the shelf, watching the white dust inside settle over the New York City skyline. My dad got me the snow globe when he took me to New York for my eighteenth birthday, and it’s one of many. I didn’t always collect globes. My collecting started when I was fourteen and was supposed to go with my grandparents to the Bahamas. Instead, I had to have my tonsils removed, so my grandma brought the beach home to me in a glass ball filled with sand and seashells. Since that one, I’ve collected dozens from all over the place. Unpacking another, this one a clear ball with a photo of my family inside, I shake it as well before putting it in its place. Then I look toward the front door when I hear the roar of pipes getting closer to the house.

“I think Evan and Wes are back to pick you guys up,” I say loud enough to be heard over the music playing, and July and June, who are both in my kitchen unpacking boxes, look at me then the front door.

“Has it already been three hours?” June questions, and I look at the clock. It’s already after seven in the evening, so it’s been more like four hours since the guys left.

“Seems so.” I cover my stomach with my hand when it gurgles, reminding me all I have put in it today is coffee and donuts.

“I’ll be back when I get off work tomorrow to help you finish up,” July says, putting a stack of plates in one of the cupboards before meeting me halfway across the living room to give me a hug.

“You don’t need to come. I think I can handle the rest of this.”

“I’ll be here when I get off work,” she repeats with a smile as I pick up Dizzy and follow her toward the front door.

“I’ll be here after school,” June tells me, giving me a hug as July steps outside.

“I really can handle the rest. You should be home with your feet up,” I tell her softly, looking down at her stomach and the small little pooch she has there. I couldn’t be happier for her and Evan if I tried.

“Don’t even start. You sound just like Evan.” She rolls her eyes, making me laugh while we both step out onto the porch. “See you tomorrow.” She waves over her shoulder, heading down the steps toward Evan who she greets with a kiss.

Standing on the porch, I wave at Wes and July as they take off on Wes’s bike. Then I watch June get into Evan’s SUV with his help. Lifting my hand, I wave then wait until they are backing out of the drive before I go inside and close the door. Letting out a breath, I look around and sigh. Even though we got a lot done today, there is still a lot to do.

“It’s just you and me,” I tell Dizzy, setting him down, and he takes off without looking at me, probably going to explore his new home like he’s been doing since I released him from his kennel earlier. Hearing my stomach gurgle again, I head for my bedroom and trade my tank top for a T-shirt and my flip-flops for sneakers. Once I’ve retied my hair up into a ponytail, I grab my keys and bag then head out.

On my five-minute drive into town, I try to decide between pizza and Chinese food. The pizza place is closer, so I pull into the parking lot and get out, taking my bag with me. Like it’s been since I was a kid, Marco’s is packed. People are playing pool around the two pool tables in the back of the restaurant. Kids are battling on the video games that line the walls, and families are gathered around each and every table in the place. Going to the counter, I put in my order for a medium Hungry Man’s pizza, which consists of every kind of meat known to man, along with all the toppings you could ever ask for on a pizza. I also order a small dessert pizza that is covered in cinnamon sugar, fresh sliced apples, and caramel cream sauce.

Once I pay, I grab my soda and take my ticket with me over to one of the tables to wait. I pull out my phone and send everyone in my family a quick thank you text then scroll through Facebook out of boredom.

“Harmony.”

Hearing my name rumbled in a familiar deep voice, I jump in my seat and my eyes scan up from a pair of black heavy-looking boots, jeans that have been washed so many times they have started to fray at the seams, and a faded blue shirt that shows off every single muscle of his torso under a black leather vest.

“Babe, you okay?” Harlen questions, and I tip my head farther back and blink up at him, shaking my head.

“Sorry, yes.” I smile awkwardly. “Long day of moving and unpacking along with not eating has put waste to every brain cell I have left,” I tell him. He nods then pulls out the chair next to mine and takes a seat.

“Evan said you got a place in town and that he and Wes were helping with the move today,” he says, stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing his ankles on the outside of mine, effectively blocking me in.

“They got roped in with everyone else.” I take a sip of my soda, studying him, but trying not to look like I’m studying him. His hair and beard have grown longer since the last time I saw him, and I’m not sure if he looks hotter or scarier. I do know the longer beard makes his lips seem even more inviting.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, breaking into my thoughts about his mouth and what it might feel like to have it on mine.

“Getting pizza then heading back home to eat and unpack some more. I have to get back to work on Saturday, so I’m trying to get as much done as I can before then,” I ramble.

“I’ll help,” he states, and I blink at him.

“Pardon?” I ask, sure that I heard him wrong, because I can’t imagine he has nothing better to do than help me unpack.