Page 5 of Mysterious

Leaning down, my mother presses a kiss to my cheek. “Please be careful, honey. I worry about you, and this only makes me more worried.”

I smile up at her and see in her blue eyes she isn’t exaggerating about her concern. “It’s okay, Mom. I’ll be fine.”

“I love you, honey. Call more often so I can hear how things are going once you go out on the road with Mia, okay?”

My father nods, chiming in with his request for me to call home more than once in a while too. “Your mother’s right. We want to hear all about it.”

“I will. I promise.”

After she gives me another kiss, my mother tousles my hair that’s technically too short to mess up these days. “Good. Parents like to hear from their kids, even when they’re grown men. Stay safe, honey. Okay? We love you, Liam.”

My father simply smiles in that way that tells me he thinks he knows much more about what’s going on with Mia and me than I’m admitting. “Have fun.”

They turn to leave and Wilder taps me on the arm again. “Don’t worry about your place. It’s in tip-top shape. Just as you left it. But you won’t need that once you and Mia get together, right? Because I’m thinking we might as well keep it in the family if you don’t.”

Typical Wilder.

I look over at the nurse trying not to smile at my brother’s awkward attempt at making me promise he can have my apartment now and point toward the door. “Out! And keep my place in good shape for when I get back. Got it?”

My brother waves off my comments with a chuckle on his way out the door. “Yeah, yeah. I know what I saw, so just remember the whole keeping it in the family idea. And call your mother, Liam. You know how she worries.”

The nurse points to where I need to sign on half a dozen forms. Feeling the need to explain all she’s heard, I say, “That’s just my family. You know how family can be.”

“You seem to have a lot of people who care about you, including that young woman out at the nurses’ station. You’re a lucky man, Mr. Jackson.”

The look in her eyes tells me she thinks just like my family does. That Mia and I are involved. I guess there’s no point in protesting. They’re going to believe what they want to believe.

But I can’t deny something’s different between us now. I just don’t know what to do about that.

CHAPTERTHREE

Mia

I siton the edge of Liam’s bed as the staff bring in anything he could possibly want while he rests like the doctor at the hospital said he needs to if I want him to be able to accompany me on the tour. I made them buy every magazine a man could want from the bookstore, and Cecelia made sure to buy all of his favorite food after I insisted he make me a list so he can have whatever he wants as he gets better.

When the guys finish lugging in a mini fridge so he doesn’t have to do anything to have a drink whenever he wants, we’re left alone for the first time since those few precious moments we had together in the hospital. Damn that nurse who couldn’t give us just a minute more.

“If you get hungry, Cecelia has strict instructions to make you whatever you ask for. All you have to do is tell her what you want. I gave her the list you wrote down, so she has everything you need. And if I have to hire a different chef to make something she can’t make, then I’ll do that.”

Liam shakes his head, like he’s embarrassed by all this attention he’s getting. “You don’t have to do all of this. I’m fine, Mia. Just a few stitches. You’re like my mother. She’s all worried too.”

I smile at the comparison to that beautiful blond woman I got to meet a few hours ago. “I’m going to take that as a compliment. I knew your mother would be pretty after seeing that picture of yours, but it didn’t do her justice, Liam. She’s absolutely beautiful. And your father? I can tell where you get your looks from. They’re so sweet too! Your mother told me about how you loved marshmallows in your sweet potatoes when you were a little boy, so I made sure the kitchen has all the sweet potatoes and marshmallows you could possibly want.”

His expression turns sheepish, and I swear I see a hint of guilt in his eyes. “What? What’s wrong?” I ask, suddenly fearful I’ve upset him.

“I haven’t eaten that since I was ten, Mia. I don’t even like sweet potatoes anymore.”

“It’s okay. I hear they’re healthy, so I’ll make sure Ainsley and Mitchell know we have them in the house. I just won’t mention the marshmallows so I don’t have to hear a lecture from him about how much empty calories one marshmallow has in it.”

I feel myself beginning to unravel after hearing about my mistake with something he doesn’t even like and hasn’t eaten in over a decade. I only wanted to make sure he felt like he’s at home as he’s recuperating. That’s all. He probably thinks I’m some stupid girl who just wants to buy everything in the world and bring it to my house because I’m feeling guilty that he got shot.

“Mia…”

He says my name in a low voice that sounds ominous. Like he’s going to tell me he doesn’t think he can go out on tour with me or he doesn’t want to after getting shot because of what I did.

My entire body tenses up as I wait to hear the next words that come out of his mouth. He remains silent for so long, though, that I can’t stop myself from filling the empty space with a bunch of chatter that means next to nothing.

“So, no sweet potatoes and marshmallows. I hope you told your mom so she doesn’t make them for Thanksgiving or anything. I’m sure you will so she doesn’t waste her time making something you don’t like. There’s a ton of other stuff down there, though, so don’t worry. You can have whatever your heart desires. I have to admit I was surprised the media were waiting outside the hospital when we left. Can you believe those vultures? Someone gets shot, and all they want to do is take pictures. I’m sorry about that. I should have gone out a side door or something so they didn’t swarm all over you.”

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