When everything’s ready, I divide the scrambled eggs onto two dishes, and set two slices of toast on each of them. Then I carry a steaming mug to the table and sit.
Mom grips my forearm. “You don’t have to worry about me, baby. I promise, I’m okay.”
“I’m your son. It’s my job to worry about you.” I shoot her a wink. “Now eat your breakfast.”
As much as I want rush out of the house to see Ainsley, I can’t leave Mom here by herself. The last thing she needs is to take another spill and hit her head. If she’s feeling dizzy, I want to be here to help her.
“What time are you going to Ainsley’s?”
“I don’t have to go today. I can hang with you.”
Mom leans back against her chair, talking around a forkful of eggs. “You’re not staying with me.”
I lift a challenging eyebrow.
She nods. “I’m going to take it easy today. The sun’s out and I want to read a new book I picked up at the library. I’ll be off my feet and you won’t have a thing to worry about.”
My worry subsides for the time being. “What book did you get?”
“The Silent Patient. It’s about a woman who kills her husband, and then doesn’t speak another word ever again.”
My eyebrows jump. “You’ll have to let me know how it turns out.”
She smiles. “I will. So, get your butt over to Ainsley’s, and stop making a fuss over your mother.”
I push out of my chair, and lean down to drop a kiss to the top of her head. “Who better than you to make a fuss over?”
Grabbing a few supplies from the garage, I head to Ainsley’s house across town.
I find her lounging on the porch swing in fuzzy zebra-print slippers, her hair swept up into a messy bun on top of her head, holding a mug that saysI don’t like morning people. Or mornings. Or people.
I grin as I climb the steps. “Nice mug, Scrooge.”
She smirks as she stands, and sets her mug on the wooden ledge of the porch. The hem of her over-sized Kiss T-shirt skims her bare thighs. “I’ll make an exception for you.”
Dear Lord.
I slide my hands around her waist, feeling the warmth of her body radiating through the thin fabric of her shirt. “How are you feeling today?”
“I’m good, but it’s Sunday. Ask me tomorrow when everyone’s at work except me.” Her hands come up to the back of my neck, playing with the short hairs there. “I was thinking, maybe I could spend some time with your mom during the week. We’re both home, and she has to be bored. We can go for walks. I read that staying active is important for people like her, and?—”
I cover her lips with mine, needing to claim her mouth and pour my emotion into her. My tongue surges inside, and hers meets mine with matching intensity.
Her career is in jeopardy, and the most important thing in the world to her was just taken away. Instead of sitting home and sulking about it, she’s thinking about my mother. Spending time with her. Knowing it’ll ease my worry to have them together.
I pull back and rest my forehead against hers.
“What was that for?” she asks, breathless.
“You’re thinking of my mother, with all that you have going on.”
A small smile touches her lips. “I care about her.”
“I care about you.” I brush my nose against hers. “You know that, right?”
She nods, but doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. I know what this is, what’s happening between us.
Even if she doesn’t yet.
