Page 26 of Not Like Christmas At All
I’ll never know until I tell her how I feel. How I’vebeenfeeling.
Pushing the door open, I step into Gen’s room. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the pale, dim lighting, and once they do, I find she’s already drifted off to sleep again.
For a moment I watch the steady rise and fall of her chest, letting it ease the tightness in my chest.
She’s so beautiful.
So mine.
At least, I hope she’ll be.
Chapter Eleven
“Mom, stop. I’m okay.” I swat away her hand as she tries to fluff my pillow for the sixth time. I’m propped in my bed with more pillows surrounding me than I could ever need, two bottles of water, snacks, three paperbacks I haven’t started, and my TV remote. It’s slightly overwhelming.
From my side, Pebbles yawns, overly dramatic and loud.
“I know you’re okay, Gennie. I just want to make sure you’re comfortable while you’re left here all alone. You gave us quite a scare.”
“It’s just a mild concussion, Mom. I promise I’ll survive it. In fact, I’ll be back up and functioning within the next couple of hours, if you would just stop fussing over me and let me take a nap!” To appease her, I take a swig of water from one of the bottles.
“Never! I’m your mother. I’ll fuss over you until the day I die.” She pulls the blanket further up my chest.
Glancing at my phone, a new message from Lincoln pops up, sending a rush of excitement through me. He’s fussing over me just as much as my mother is, although his level of concernis a bit more shocking, considering the disinterest he’s shown since…well, since we met.
“Is that handsome doctor checking on you again?” my mom asks inquisitively, pushing her hands underneath my sides to tuck the blanket.
The warmth of a blush stains my cheeks. “Yeah. I’m sure he just wants to know how my headache is.”
Throbbing, but not as much as the place between my thighs whenever I think about the tension between us when he tucked my hair behind my ear yesterday.
Swiping my thumb across the screen, I peek at his message.
Can I bring you dinner tonight? We should talk.
“So listen,” my mom interrupts my internal monologue reading his message for the third time. “Since you’re not in any condition to be driving today, your father and I thought we could bring the Christmas celebration to you. Would you be up for that?”
Dropping my phone into my lap, I return my attention back to her. When she leaves, I’ll respond to him. “My kitchen is far too tiny for you to be cooking a full spread in, Mom.”
“Nonsense. All I need is a counter, a stovetop, and an oven, and I can make do.”
I can’t avoid matching her smile. “It’ll be tight, but I’d love nothing more.”
Peeking down at my phone again, I glance at Lincoln’s message.Can I bring you dinner tonight?
For a split second, my mind and my heart are at war. “Yeah, Mom. Let’s have it here.”
Leaning down, she presses a kiss against my forehead. “Yay! I was hoping you’d say that. Get some rest, and we will be backin a few hours. Do I need to do anything for Pebbles before I leave?”
“Would you mind putting two scoops of food in her bowl? Her breakfast is already later than normal, and I’m surprised she’s not gnawing at my hands like a starving beast.” With a giggle, I roll my eyes and ruffle the fur between her ears.
“Of course I’ll feed my granddog!” Mom’s eyes roam over the nightstand and my bed, taking silent inventory of everything she’s brought to me, ensuring I won’t have to get up while she’s gone.
“Go.” I shoo my hands in her direction. “I’ll be fine! I promise it’s just a concussion, and I’m feeling better already.”
“Okay. I love you.” Her fingers tighten around mine affectionately.
“Love you too, Mom.”
