Page 122 of Playing With Love

I moved to lie back down. Allyson immediately moved in to help ease me back down. When I was back on my side, Ally stayed close.

Lenox stood from his chair, blocking my view of my mother.

Tall.

Strong.

Protecting me.

That was what a father did.

And Ally staying at my side…that was what a friend did.

That was love and protection.

I closed my eyes, not because I wanted to block out the hurt, but because I finally, finally got it. What Tucker had been showing me. What he’d shown me over the last decade. I’d always had his love, his care, his concern, and it was worth the repeat…his love.

A few seconds later I heard feet shuffling, a door slamming, then more shuffling.

“Hi, Liza, I’m Lily Lenox.”

Oh my God. Lenox’s Lily had witnessed that horrible scene.

How embarrassing.

My eyes snapped open and there stood a very beautiful woman with the kindest amber eyes I’d ever seen.

They got infinitely kinder when she leaned forward, reached to grab my hand, and gave it a careful squeeze.

“We’re gonna get you through this, sweetie.”

Who knew a single sentence—a handful of words—could simultaneously cut to the quick and begin to stitch back the pieces my mother had torn from me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

“I love you,” she said.

I kept my eyes closed.

“I know you do, baby,” I replied.

“Do you love me?”

At that I opened my eyes and looked at Liza sitting cross-legged on the bed next to me.

“No. I love and adore you.”

She beamed a beautiful smile down at me.

“I know you do.”

This had become Liza’s morning ritual over the last eight weeks. It had started in the hospital when I was still heavily sedated. Every morning of the two weeks I’d spent in Nashville she’d woken me up by telling me she loved me. And it had continued when we got back to Georgia. At first it concerned me; I was worried she wasn’t dealing with the aftermath of the fire. Then Lenox explained to me what had happened with her mother. And I got it. She might’ve been forty, but for the first time in her life she was experiencing love.

There were worse ways of waking up than giving my woman what she needed to start her day.

On that thought, I was about to make her morning better.

“C’mere, Lizzy.”