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She pulls away. “You should probably answer that.”
“Nope. I should keep kissing you.” My mouth tilts to one side. “In fact, I’m positive that’s what the doctor ordered.”
She laughs harder this time and winces, her ribs no doubt reminding her of their injured status. “Nice try, Troy.”
The doorbell rings again.
Sighing, I push to my feet and walk to the foyer. Jess’s suitcase is where Emily must have left it.
I peer through the peephole. Mom’s standing on the porch, a casserole dish in her hand and a cloth bag dangling from her other arm.
I hide the suitcase in the hall closet and let her in. “Hey, Mom. What’re you doing here?”
“I came to check on you and bring you some dinner. How’s your shoulder doing?” She gives me the same concerned expression I was a recipient of whenever I skinned my knee as a kid.
“It’s fine. Nothing PT with Lucas won’t solve.”
Mom removes her sandals and heads for the kitchen. I don’t bother to stop her. I’m more than ready to introduce her to my girlfriend.
She smiles at Jess on the couch, but then the smile wavers. And I can only guess it’s because of the bruises and scrapes on Jess’s face and her bandaged thigh. Even from the kitchen, Mom can see them. “Hi, I didn’t realize Troy had a visitor.”
“Mom, this is Jessica.”
Mom’s face brightens. “So you’re the Jessica I’ve heard so much about. I’ve been wondering when I’d finally get to meet you. I’m Joanne.” She walks toward the couch.
“It’s nice to meet you, Joanne,” Jess replies, smiling in the way that always causes my heart to stutter several beats. She lowers her leg and makes an effort to stand.
“You’re supposed to be resting your leg,” I remind her with a playful glare that has Jess grinning.
“Don’t get up on my account.” Mom waves for Jess to sit again.
Butterscotch comes into the kitchen with Bailey trailing behind him. He gives Mom a small welcoming bark. Bailey joins in on the game, adding a slightly deeper bark.
Mom puts the dish and bag on the counter. “Hey there, Butterscotch. Who’s your new friend?” She crouches to fuss over the two dogs.
“That’s Bailey,” I tell her. “Jess’s dog. Jess is training her to be a service dog.” That’s all Mom needs to know for now.
“Aren’t you adorable,” she says to Bailey and straightens. “Soooo, is it true you’re dating my son?” The question is directed at Jess, and Mom gives her the same Are-you-going-to-give-me-grandbabies? grin she gave Lucas and Simone when they got engaged.
“Yes, I am.” Jess throws me a panicked expression that’s so fleeting, I’m positive Mom didn’t notice it.
“Jess was in an accident and needs her rest. So now’s not a good time to ask all those questions I know you want to ask her.” My tone is gentle, teasing, but my message is clear.
Mom turns to me. “Kellan did mention that.” A snorted laugh threatens to push free from me. That’s probably the only thing Mom got out of Kellan.
Her gaze returns to Jess on the couch. “How are you doing, dear?” she asks my girlfriend, ignoring the message. “I hope you fared better than my son here when he rescued the father and son who got lost hiking.”
“Neither of my shoulders was injured,” Jess points out, “so I’m thinking that’s a yes.”
Mom turns to me. “And how’s your truck?”
“It was totaled.”
“Oh, no! You loved that truck.”
Jess flinches as if bracing for a physical blow. Like she did in the hospital. I can only imagine where her thoughts are. Mine are murderous toward the man who made her that way.
