The One You Fight For (The One, #2)

three

"That's pushing it," I say.

He holds his hands up in a surrender motion. "You're right. You're right. I'm sorry."

We enter the kitchen, and I see my sister sitting at the island. She's hunched over a pile of bridal magazines. While most of the planning has been easy, we can't seem to find a dress for the bride. She's tried on about fifty original dresses, but none of them match her personality. By the crease between her eyebrows, something tells me she's flipping through wedding dresses.

I plop the binder down beside her, causing her to jump. The crease fades, her expression blossoming into a smile.

"Rosie!" she exclaims, pulling me in for a hug. "Thank god you're here! I was losing my mind. There aren't any wedding dresses for me." She steps back and covers her eyes. "What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

From the stove, where he's stirring ground beef for the spaghetti sauce, I hear Hainsey scoff. "You could be buck naked and I'd still marry you."

I wrinkle my nose. "Is that because of the beard?"

Emyln slaps my arm. "Rosa!"

Tossing my head back, I laugh. "Hainsey started it! He started telling me about how much you love his beard." I turn to look at him. "Which you need to get rid of. And get a haircut. You look like a mountain man."

Hainsey turns back to the pot and pours in a can of crushed tomatoes, tomato paste, and adds a dash of ketchup for good measure. That's followed by fresh basil, oregano, garlic, and some chili powder. When the smell wafts over to Emmy and me, my mouth waters. Nothing matches Hainsey's spaghetti.

"Don't worry, Rosa," he says. "I have an appointment with the barber tomorrow. And this,"—he strokes his bead with his head turned away from the food— "will be gone by tonight."

I exaggerate an exhale, pressing a hand to my chest. "Well, thank you for saving the world, Hainsey."

Grinning, he rolls his eyes and turns back to the food. The pot of water next to the sauce is at a rolling boil, so he adds a generous amount of salt and follows with the uncooked noodles.

Although he's grown-up, I still picture that little boy who fell in love with my sister. Hainsey Stone has always had that boyish charm. He's also always been a stubborn bastard.

"Ems," he says. "Luke Madden is at Rosa's rehab centre."

Emmy's mouth drops open as she turns to me. "WHAT?! ROSA! YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THAT."

Disclosing private information is against conduct. Without the aid of the media, Luke Madden's presence would be confidential. But considering the entire world knows, I don't feel guilty admitting they're right. Luke Madden is my patient.

Nodding, I reach over and pluck a cherry tomato from the salad bowl, popping it into my mouth. While Emyln gushes about such a high-status NHL player being close, I comb through my approach for tomorrow's sessions. Luke will be more willing to follow protocols tomorrow. At least, that's what I'm hoping for.

"Seriously," Emyln continues. "You can't hate Luke Madden. He runs a charity for kids who can't afford to play hockey. It's called the Madden Foundation. He's helped like a bazillion families in Canada." She rests her arm on my forearm. "He also visits Alberta Children's Hospital a lot." She pauses, the crease between her brows reappearing. "I hope he heals from his injuries. That'll be a major loss of talent if he doesn't."

When I look over at Hainsey, he's smiling and shaking his head. "Shouldn't let her know these things, Rosa. You know how much Ems loves Luke Madden, despite being a Vancouver fan."

Emyln sticks her tongue out at Hainsey. "You're in love with him, too."

Sighing, Hainsey sends me an apologetic grin. "What's he like?" From the cupboard, he removes a bottle of red wine. "Wine?"

"Please," Emmy says.

I nod, expelling a sigh and contemplating my choices. Although the media has made society aware of Luke's treatment location, discussing private factors doesn't seem right. That being said, there's nothing holding me back from discussing my experience.

"The family was nice," I say, eyeing the bottle of wine while Hainsey pours it. After today, I need a glass of wine and a hearty meal. "All I'll say about Luke is that he needs some time to adjust. Just like everyone else."

Both of them pout, but they don't press for more questions. Which is a blessing and a curse. A blessing in the context I'm not discussing information that's supposed to follow conduct. A curse because I need someone to talk to. Despite my grit and determination, I'm scared Luke won't comply. If he ends up being difficult, I may need to contact his family and discuss an alternative route. Perhaps another physiotherapist or plan.

Some type of freaking miracle.

After a few seconds of silence, Emyln breaks it. "Okay, but is he hotter in person? Give me those details, at least."

Hainsey sighs and takes a sip of his wine. "Your fiancé is here."

I reach over and squeeze his arm. "You have nothing to worry about. Emmy loves you, Hainsey." Then I turn to my sister. "But to answer your question, Emmy, I can't. Relationships with my patients are platonic. I can be friends with them, but nothing more."

There's a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. "You're avoiding the question."

I take a sip of my wine, ignoring her. Admitting Luke Madden is gorgeous will land me a ticket to being teased by these two. She doesn't need to know that Luke Madden's eyes are a greenish-blue, reminding me of aquamarine stones. That his hair is darker than onyx. His square jaw and high cheekbones could cut glass. And I can only imagine what his body looks like beneath those clothes.

Instead of pondering those thoughts, I take a sip of wine and lock them away. Work is more important than feeling attraction to a man. All my hard work will not be undone.

When Hainsey turns back to the food, I look at my sister. Her attention is focused on the magazine before her. I saunter over to her and rest my chin on her shoulder.

"Where's the binder?" I ask.

"Upstairs," she sighs. "I thought weddings would be more fun to plan. Finding a wedding dress is stressing me out. The wedding is in August. What if I can't find one, Rosie?"

"Maybe we'll have to take up Hainsey's suggestion," I joke.

Emyln laughs, but the smile doesn't reach her eyes. I feel a pinch of sadness for her. This wedding has to be perfect. They deserve a perfect wedding.

Straightening my posture, I give Emlyn's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Why don't you go upstairs and grab the binder? Then we'll comb through the details. Maybe looking at themes and such will give you a better idea of what you want for a wedding dress."

Emlyn pushes away from the island and nods. "I'll be right back." Then she leaves the kitchen without looking back.

Pot in hand, Hainsey turns around and sets it on the counter, atop a corkboard mat. "You'll have to cut her some slack. We had a long day at work today. She's exhausted, but she wouldn't postpone tonight."

Hainsey and Emlyn run a company called Elite Stone. It's both a landscaping company and an interior design company. When people are remodelling or building houses, they'll come in and help with landscaping and design. Every house they've completed so far has been amazing.

"I have to say, though," Hainsey says. He pulls out three plates from the cupboard and sets them on the island. "I truly hate that binder."

I take a sip of my wine. "Planning weddings isn't easy, Hainsey. There's a lot of time and effort that goes into them."

His lips curve into a half-grin. "Why do I sense a 'but' in there?"

"But," I smile. "It'll be worth it in the end. You're marrying the love of your life."

Blushing, Hainsey mumbles something while grabbing the cutlery.

Unless my ears are deceiving me, I'm positive he's just said, But she's more than that.

Which is why my duties as Maid of Honour are so important. This wedding has to be perfect.