Page 3 of Unwrapped
“Thanks.”At least someone does.Nope. Not going there. I’m not ruining my mood with thoughts of my asshole ex. He held the role of mood-ruiner for eight long years.
Lena carries her bag, the cupcakes, and our empty coffee cups as we head for the cabin.
The front door swings open, and my friend Sawyer appears, wearing an ear-to-ear grin. “Cami, hey! We weren’t sure what time to expect you. Let me help you ladies with your bags.” He bounds down the steps and rushes along the front path to us.
“Lena, this handsome fella is Sawyer O’Sullivan, aka Sully, and he’s the supervising pharmacist at Compass Rose Apothecary in Brooklyn. He and the other guys lived on our floor.”
“Hi, Lena.” He reaches for our duffels and the box of cupcakes, eyeing her curiously. “You look really familiar. I feel like we’ve met.”
She hands them over with a smile. “We have. You gave me my flu shot in October.”
He snaps his fingers. “I remember now. You’re a nurse, right?”
“Yes.” She glances at me and explains, “Compass Rose has been my pharmacy for years.”
“Guess you won’t have to worry about not knowing anyone,” I tease, nudging her. I turn back to Sawyer. “Are your girls inside?”
Pain flashes across his face at the mention of his wife and daughter. “Uh, no. It’s just me this time. Sandra and I are separated now. I’m fighting for full custody. My mother has Kerrigan this weekend.”
My jaw drops open. “Oh my God. I had no idea.”
Those were the lastwords I expected to hear leaving his lips. He and Sandra were high school sweethearts. I always considered them soul mates and wished for their kind of bond. I want to ask what happened to tear them apart—and made him pursue full custody of their only child—but now isn’t the time.
I grip his arm, peering up at his face. “Are you OK?”
“Not really.” He shrugs and meets my gaze, his piercing blue eyes lacking their usual vibrance. “But I’m ... surviving, I guess. The whole situation’s a fucking disaster. I’ll fill you in later.” He points to the front door. “Let’s go in. It’s freezing.”
Lena and I exchange a glance as we follow him inside. My heart aches for my sweet friend and his little girl. I feel like a jerk for not reaching out more often. I’ve been so disconnected these past few years. It’s a wonder my friends still love me.
The aroma of warm apples and cinnamon greets us when we enter the foyer. Christmas music is blasting, and the cabin’s decorations could be featured in a magazine.
“Wow,” Lena murmurs. “That tree is gorgeous, and it smells like heaven in here.”
“Our friend Jordana has been making pies all morning,” Sawyer explains, setting our bags on a nearby bench. “She started with pumpkin. Then moved onto pecan. She’s doing apple now. This wasafterthe gingerbread and sugar cookies. She said something about Santa’s thumbprint cookies too.”
I nudge Lena. “Jordyalsodoesn’t fuck around when it comes to desserts.”
“Uh, clearly. Maybe we didn’t need all those cupcakes we brought.”
Sawyer laughs. “Don’t worry. They’ll get eaten. Our buddy Hudson’s a bottomless pit,” he pats his stomach, “and I’m in a drown-my-sorrows-in-booze-and-sugar kind of mood.” He meets my gaze. “Big Shot brought the good stuff.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
“Just wait until you see it all.”
As CEO of Polaris Drugs, a huge pharmacy technology corporation, our friend Jude Holland is filthy rich. As in, a literal billionaire. He always brings the finest whiskeys and wine vintages to our gatherings. Even though he’s rolling in cash, he’s still as down-to-earth as when we survived on Ramen noodles and cereal. His generosity knows no bounds. Jude paid off everyone’s student loans with his first multi-million-dollar deal, a move that brought me to tears. I’m incredibly proud of his success, and I can’t wait to hug him.
I squeeze Sawyer’s shoulder. “Wanna share a commiserative drink later?”
“Absofuckinglutely.”
Lena and I step out of our snow boots and hang our parkas on the antique coat rack, then follow Sawyer toward the kitchen.
He stops short in the doorway, making me collide with his muscular back. “Holy shit. I was gone three minutes. What the hell happened?”
I step around him to see what he’s talking about, then immediately regret it.
Jude and Jordana are crowded around Hudson, who’s seated on a stool, his white shirt spattered with blood.
