“He knew, Lily. He did,” was all he could muster.
A little soul-tearing sob escaped her. “I’ll never forget when he stopped breathing. The lines on the monitor went flat, there was no pulse blipping. It was 10:44 in the morning, six weeks from the day he was diagnosed. But I swear—and no one will ever talk me out of this—even though the machines had gone quiet, his fingers squeezed mine. Then he was gone.”
They sat for a long time without talking, the only sound her soft sobs and her sniffles mingling with his. When Gage had enough presence of mind to look around for his empty water bottle, he discovered he’d crushed it.
“Are you still with me?” she said with a humorless laugh. “Or did I scare you off?”
He steadied his voice. “Never. I don’t scare that easily, Goldilocks, and I’m not going anywhere.”
She pulled in a breath. “No, I don’t believe you would. You’re a good man, Gage Nelson. Your family’s lucky to have you.”
“Would you please tell my mom that?”
“I’m sure she thinks you’re perfect.” She laughed, and it uncoiled his bunched muscles. He laughed too, and, God, it felt good.
“Something I’ve been wondering about, and if I’m overstepping, tell me to shut up,” he said.
“What is it?”
“Does social media consulting bring in enough to support you and Daisy?” Crap, the question didn’t come out the way he intended. “I’m sorry,” he backpedaled. “None of my business.”
“No, it’s fine. Jack took out a hefty life insurance policy when we got married. Neither of us ever imagined I’d have to use it.” Her voice seemed to catch. A beat later, she’d recovered. “I live off the interest from the policy. As for the social media, it brings in extra money for little splurges. Mostly, I do it because it keeps me sharp, it’s flexible, and I enjoy it. It gives me something to do now that Daisy’s in school.”
A silent sigh of relief whooshed out of him. At least he could rid himself of the worry she was struggling to make ends meet. “Well, you’re damn good at it.” He sounded clumsy, even to his own ears.
“Thank you.” A few beats later, she said, “So I don’t think I’ve ever known a fighting professor before, and I’m curious. What started it?”
Gage was grateful for the distraction. “I’m not sure I remember. Some gutterance.”
“Gutterance?” She sounded highly amused.
“Guttural utterance. He disparaged my family. And I think my manhood. Doesn’t matter.” Truth was, he really couldn’t remember the exact remark, only that it had been about his sister and had come from a douchebag he didn’t like, and he’d exploded. Nothing to be proud of, but sometimes shit happened on the ice.
“Were you on edge about your grandmother at the time?”
Yes. “No. Maybe. I don’t know, but it didn’t take much to set me off.”
“You don’t strike me as someone who loses his cool, so you must have been really upset to let whatever it was get to you.” Another pause, then her voice took on a lilting, soothing tone that seemed to stroke his overstretched nerves into submission. “I’m so sorry about your grandmother’s accident. Is there anything I can do?”
This woman’s comforting me? After the story she just told? You gotta be shitting me.
“No,” he croaked. “But I appreciate the offer.”
In that moment, it struck him he was capable of falling in love. Because he was pretty sure he was already there. And by some strange magic, he couldn’t care less if he had the time or not or if she had a child or not. None of that mattered. He’d met the woman he needed to meet, and she was a sweet, sultry songbird named Lily Everett.
His world had been tipped completely upside down. And it scared the shit out of him. Because unless he could convince her he should own a place in her heart—despite the dead husband already living there—he’d never be able to set it right side up again.
Chapter 17
Shall He Do Her?
Days after Gage’s return from his road trip, Lily was working in his office, surrounded by boxes holding fan mail she’d been opening, reading, and sorting. Hobbes lounged in a late-morning, sun-splashed corner of the desk, flicking her tail in time with soft jazz playing in the background. A tall shadow slid down the hall.
“How’s your grandmother?” Lily called out.
“Much better, thanks,” Gage called back. “Everything seems to be back to normal at good ol’ Skyview Acres.”
Lily slit open a letter and pulled out a folded piece of pink paper. Her eyes quickly scanned the contents. “Oh my God,” she shrieked. “This … this …”
Gage stuck his damp head around the door frame. “What’s going on?”
Apparently, she’d gotten somewhat comfortable padding around his place without him there because moments like this—when his sexy self appeared out of nowhere—jarred her while simultaneously igniting her. Even with the telltale yellow-green hue of his fading bruise and the angry gash above his eye, he was all delectable hotness. And he seemed to be getting better and better looking every time she laid eyes on him, if that were even possible.
There was that urge to fan herself again, which she deftly ignored. “She describes—in graphic detail—what she wants to do to you,” she spluttered instead. “And my God, her name!”
His interest obviously piqued, he stepped fully into the office and cocked his head. “What’s her name?”
She rolled her eyes. “Shally Dewar.”
He blinked. “Shall he do her? As in—” A light bulb seemed to wink on, and a grin spread over his face.
“I swear, the crazies box is overflowing with letters just like this one. Is this normal?”
“Normal for what?” He came closer, leaning in over her shoulder, his eyes traveling to where her finger pointed. Fresh from morning skate, he’d just showered, and a heavenly man smell wrapped her up and clouded her brain.
Apparently, his brain was functioning at its usual above-average speed. “If you’re talking about
