Page 65 of High Intensity

He bumps my shoulder with his. “Jilly, honey, are you saying you don’t like my mouth in the morning?”

I try to glare at him over the rim of my coffee mug, even as my well-used parts experience a tingle of new life at the memory. Just the thought of missing out on that has me blurt out, “I never said that.”

“That’s what I thought,” he mutters smugly, before getting up and pulling me with him. “Let’s get moving; we have a facility full of seniors eagerly awaiting their doggy licks and snuggles.”

It’s two hours later when we finally get on the road.

Given our early morning activities, we both desperately needed a shower. Then there was the issue of security, something I’d almost forgotten about the past two days.

It was Wolff’s idea to borrow Jonas’s dark navy Yukon. The rear of the SUV has dark tinted windows, making it difficult to see who or what is inside, so I was relegated to the back seat with both dogs. Wolff tucked his hair under his hat before getting behind the wheel.

To help throw off anyone who might be looking, Jackson took Wolff’s truck five minutes ago and drove toward Libby.

“Ready?”

“Yup,” I confirm, catching Wolff’s wink in the rearview mirror.

Flanked by two affectionate dogs snuggling up against me, I find myself dozing off every so often, making the drive feel short. Before I realize it, we’re pulling into the parking lot of Wellspring Senior Living.

“Nice nap?”

He throws a quick look over his shoulder as he parks the SUV, and I stick out my tongue at him in response.

Trudy Wolff is sitting front and center in the community room, her arm in a sling, but a smile on her face when we walk in. I unclip Peanut, who immediately makes a beeline for Wolff’s mother, and she laves her with attention.

“So glad to see you, Jillian,” she directs at me with a smile.

“Nice to see you too. And great to see you up and about. I heard about your ordeal. How is the arm?”

“Much better than it was. You’re so sweet for asking.”

Behind me I hear Wolff clear his throat.

“Hello, Mom, what am I? Chopped liver?”

Wolff bends down to kiss her cheek. Trudy winks at me over his head, before she turns a smile on him.

“Well hello, dear. I didn’t notice you there.”

The expression on his face is priceless, and I stifle a snicker. The woman is a big tease, and I think it’s hilarious she is giving him a taste of his own medicine.

“I’m six foot two, Mom. You didn’t notice your own flesh and blood standing right here?”

“Now, now, Lucas, honey. Keep your shorts on.”

It’s impossible not to laugh, which I do heartily at Wolff’s expense.

His mother is mercurial, and I think I love her.

Wolff

Mom is definitely on a roll today.

Despite being her favorite subject to poke fun at, I couldn’t be more relieved to see she has her mischievous wit back. I know at her age it wouldn’t be unheard of to come out of anesthesia with diminished capacity, but I’m happy she seems to have recovered just fine. At least mentally.

Mom doesn’t miss a thing, observing closely as Jillian puts a hand on my arm and smiles up at me.

“I’m going to do the rounds with Nugget,” she announces.

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