Page 48 of Forbidden Mistress

I type in my reply, smiling for the first time in almost a full day.

Thank you so much. You are so sweet. All of that is more than enough.

When his reply comes back, I read it, feeling a rush and realizing that I might just have heart-eyes.

I will be thinking of my little fawn every moment you’re not with me, but I want you to focus on your family right now. You’re never obligated to reach out unless you need me.

Wow. This guy is so amazing it’s like he’s not even real. It’s like he’s a dream man not quite made reality because of the face he keeps hidden behind his mask.

I send him a red heart emoji in reply and hit the road because I’ve already been too long away from the hospital and there has been no real news about Lori.

The drive from Pasadena to Santa Monica is tedious enough that I look forward to taking Hart up on his offer in the next few days.

As for Liam, well…we’ve come to an unofficial—but temporary—cease fire given our united front with Lori. Our fear of losing her far outweighs the bitterness between us. For now at least.

Tonight, when I arrive at the hospital, Liam is already there. In theory, while they’d taken Mom down for a CT scan, he was supposed to leave, same as me, to go grab what he needed. But he’s still in the same clothes and the two-day-old scruff on his chiseled jaw is only making him look more devastatingly handsome than ever.

As I usually do when noticing how attractive my stepbrother is, I avert my eyes and remind myself not to think about it.

“I didn’t want to chance her coming back from her tests to an empty room,” he says by way of explanation about why he didn’t leave. But honestly, he looks depleted, exhausted and uncomfortable, still wearing his suit from yesterday. The sadness and worry is all over his face. Our eyes meet. “We can’t lose her, too. It would just be too cruel…”

I put my hand on his solid shoulder and give a reassuring squeeze. “We won’t talk like that. We’re not losing her. I’m here now, go take a shower, eat some food. Come back tomorrow morning if you want. I’ll be here all night.”

Honestly, I’m making that suggestion as much for me as for him. It’s all so jumbled up right now, my feelings toward him. I’m still angry at what he did, but his love and devotion to his mom is so disarming. It gives him a vulnerability that I haven’t seen in a very long time. Not from him.

It only takes a little more convincing to get Liam to leave, and then I take to the recliner they brought in and spread out a bit, getting comfortable.

Two hours later, Liam returns, showered, changed into casual clothes—sweats and a T-shirt which fit him all too well for me not to notice. In one hand he has a bag of Lori’s things, and in the other he has a bag of fast food. The food he plops on the table beside me.

“You still like the honey mustard dressing on the crispy chicken sandwich?” he murmurs quietly.

I blink, amazed that he still remembers that. When he’d first gotten his license to drive, we’d made more than a few late-night fast food runs. This sandwich was always my favorite. I haven’t eaten one in years.

I pop out of the recliner and dig through the bag he’s brought for Lori. And there they are, a pair of fuzzy socks. Lori is constantly complaining about cold feet, and I’d mentioned that yesterday. He grabbed her socks. Without a word, I pull them out of the bag, unroll them, and carefully put them on her feet.

When I turn around, I catch Liam looking at me with the oddest expression on his face. I blink and tilt my head at him. “What?”

“Your food’s getting cold.” He looks away then, almost self-consciously. Instead, I look inside the bag and see a photo frame. What’s this?

I pull it out of the bag, amazed when I recognize it. “Shit…where did you find this? I haven’t seen this in years.”

It’s a family picture of the four of us. My dad, Lori, Liam, and me on our first family vacation about a year after they’d gotten married. We’re standing under the towering granite cliffs and a massive waterfall in Yosemite National Park. We all look so happy, our arms all around one another. My eyes drift to my dad’s smiling face, his arm around Liam’s shoulders. His fourteen-year-old stepson almost the same height as him.

Daddy. I miss him so much.

“It was in Dad’s office. Thought it might…help.” He gives another self-conscious shrug, then reaches into the food bag, pulls out an onion ring and pops it into his mouth.

My eyes widen even as my mouth waters. “I haven’t had their sweet Hawaiian batter onion rings in years. Give me some!”

He laughs. “Get your own.” Then he hands me a grease-stained brown bag that, indeed, contains my own order of the delectable creations, and we dig in. Our lightheartedness lasts about thirty seconds after we finish eating, then our existence is punctuated once more by beeping machines and the slow, steady breathing of our mom.

I set the picture on the table beside her bed at eye level. “It will be the first thing she sees when she wakes up,” I say quietly with an almost trembling voice.

Liam has gathered up the trash and is walking toward the door to dispose of it. He turns to me. “Take the recliner, Cass. You got hardly any sleep last night.”

I stretch, my arms over my head. “You’re heading out?” I’m hopeful but also a little dismayed. There are mixed feelings again.

He shakes his head. “I’ll take the chair.”

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