Page 166 of Damaged Protector

It was November, the weekend before Thanksgiving, and we’d gone back to the way we were when Mallori first moved in back in August. Occasional brushes of our hands. Her head on my shoulder when she fell asleep studying. A kiss on the forehead.

I wanted more, but I understood where she was coming from when she said she wanted to remain platonic. After our few days at my cabin, she’d obviously sensed I was having feelings for her, and she didn’t want the same thing. So she backed away so I wouldn’t fall even harder for her. She was so goddamn sweet and empathetic, and that only made me want her more.

The irony of that wasn’t lost on me.

My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts, and I smiled when I saw who was calling. Swiping my thumb across the screen, I said in a professional voice, “Thank you for calling Hawk’s House of Dildos. Please listen closely, as our menu has changed.”

Laughter came down the line, and Mallori’s head swiveled toward me. I mouthed that it was my sister before continuing. “Press one for vibrators. Press two for prophylactics. Press three for movies. Press four for lubes. Press five for sex dolls.”

I heard a beep. “Thank you for choosing to hear about our vast array of sex dolls. Press one for dolls with female anatomy. Press two for dolls with male anatomy.”

Another beep on the second option, and Mal giggled beside me.

“We currently have fifteen models of male sex dolls, including some of our ever popular celebrity models. You can enjoy personal private time with Channing Tatum, Ryan Gosling, Harry Styles, Liam Hemsworth, and our current bestseller, Steve Buscemi.”

I’d thrown that last one in to get a reaction, and I wasn’t disappointed. Mallori smacked my arm at the same time Jennifer wailed, “Ewwww, Tate. Steve Buscemi?”

I laughed heartily. “Just seeing if you were paying attention. How are you, gorgeous?”

“I’m good. How about you?”

We chatted amiably for a few minutes before she got to the point of the call. “I wanted to tell you something, but don’t freak out.”

My spine immediately turned into a steel rod, jerking me upright. If someone says not to freak out, that means they’re about to tell you something that will freak you out.

“What is it, Jenn?”

“The cancer is back.” Dread seeped through every pore on my body, and my steel spine melted. “In the left breast again. It’s just a small spot,” she added quickly.

Mallori, sensing my distress, rubbed a soothing hand through the back of my hair, and all I wanted to do was lean over into her lap and let her pet me like she did Coconut.

“What are they doing about it?”

“I’m having a mastectomy.” There was a long pause. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I almost yelled. “You’re having a mastectomy tomorrow, and you’re just now telling me?”

Mallori’s hand stilled and then resumed that sweet stroking of my hair as my sister sighed.

“I didn’t want you to worry, but Richard convinced me to tell you.”

“You’re talking to Dick?” I asked coldly.

“Yes, I’m talking to Richard,” she said in a placating tone. “We’ve become good friends since the divorce. We definitely make better friends than spouses. He actually drove me to get my biopsy.”

I was a little peeved that Dick was in the loop where my sister was concerned, whereas I sat on the fringe of the circle. But I softened my voice.

“What time is your surgery, sweetheart?”

“You don’t have to come here, Tate.”

“What time?”

She puffed out a breath. “It starts at eight and will only last two or three hours. I can call you as soon as I wake up.”

“Or you’ll just see my pretty face staring at you when you come out of the anesthesia.”

Mallori pulled her hand away and stood, and I wanted to beg her to stay with me and rub my hair some more. Her gentle touch calmed my frayed edges. But she picked up her backpack and walked to the back of the house.

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