For the first time since she’d refused his invitation to shower together, she looked up at him. “Shut up, Tripp. I’m here for you, and I’m here for your mom. Get over yourself.”
God, he wanted to kiss the hell out of her all over again. Ashley had developed one helluva backbone these last couple days. She was… He damned nearly swallowed his tongue. She was too good for any guy, not just him. But he sure as hell didn’t want to be the guy who lost her to someone else. Who wasn’t smart enough to hold onto her.
“Thank you,” he whispered, as meek as he’d never been in his life. He was the jock, the super star, the one everyone cheered and adored. Yet this tiny elfin princess had shot an arrow through his self-inflated opinion of himself, past his grandiose ego, and straight into his heart. The damned thing hurt like she’d torn it open with that prickly spine of hers. Could he give her up? Could he let her go? Tripp wasn’t sure he could be that selfless anymore. Or if he’d ever been. Bombastic. Arrogant. Dumber than shit. Those descriptors rang true. But selfless? Not so much.
Gathering his courage, Tripp palmed the family room’s door open and ushered Ashley inside, his hand possessively on the small of her back. He couldn’t help but notice how tiny her waist was, how his larger hand dwarfed her. Or how his mom’s tired green eyes, the same color as his and Trish’s, lit with joy when she saw him, but mostly when she saw Ashley.
Andy jumped to her feet, ever the gracious hostess, even at the worst of times. Like all women, she ran a quick hand over her hair. “Tripp! Who’s this pretty thing?”
“Hi, Mom. Sorry I’m late. This is Ashley Cox. Ashley, meet Andrea McClane.”
Ashley reached her hand forward, but just like he knew she’d do, Andy brushed it aside and pulled her into a hug. “You’re the one who made that delicious chicken and dumplings,” she murmured into Ashley’s ear as she squeezed her tight. “Thank you so much for thinking of me and Tripp’s friends. It was so good. Everyone wants your recipe.”
Every damned thing about his mom was always sincere. Tears sparkled at Tripp’s peripheral. He wiped that shit away. Guys didn’t cry.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it, Mrs. McClane,” Ashley replied quietly. “I love comfort food. I hope the soup helped you feel better.”
“Oh, it did, and it was such a nice surprise. Tripp’s guys have been taking good care of me, but home-cooked meals are always the best. It isn’t every day my boy brings a girlfriend to meet me. In fact…” Andy rolled her eyes. “This is a first.”
She offered Ashley the chair at her right and nodded for Tripp to take the one at her left. “Please, sit down. Join us.” Andy made it sound like a good thing. “Doctor Smith is just about to explain my daughter’s transfer into a nearby rehabilitation center, Ashley. He’s her spine doctor. Doctor Pitt just left. He’s her thoracic specialist. You might not know this, but she was attacked a couple nights ago, but she’s going to make it, isn’t she?” Andy aimed that question at the ever-smiling Doctor Smith.
“Already?” Tripp barked. “You guys are moving my sister already? Christ, has she even woken up yet?”
Doctor Smith shot him a big, wide open grin. Man, the guy had as square and big a chin as Tucker Chase, with teeth as straight and white as any guy on a toothpaste commercial. “Of course not. We need to make sure she’s stable before we move her, but she’s showing excellent progress. Aren’t you excited?”
Tripp ran a hand over his head. It hadn’t even been a full day yet. What was there to be excited about? Staggering hospital debt? Trish’s eat-shit-and-die attitude in his face every damned day for the rest of his life—if she were totally disabled? Andy being run ragged to please a daughter who’d never once in her life cared about anyone but herself?
His gaze dropped to the tabletop in front of him. Funny how it looked like real wood, but it wasn’t, was it? It was laminate on chipboard with a shitload of glue holding them together. One hundred percent fake. Like the hope Smith was dishing out.
“Tripp, honey?” his mom asked, her much smaller hand settling warm and so damned strong on his wrist. “I need you in this with me all the way. I know it’s a huge responsibility, but we can do it. Together. We can save Trish’s life, maybe even turn her around. I know we can.”
Tripp swallowed his concerns and stiffened his spine. Andy already believed; now she needed him to jump on the faith train with her. He just didn’t know how. But he could pretend. Anchoring the pad of his thumb at his temple, he swiped his fingers over his forehead in frustration. Here we go again.
This wasn’t a simple mom and son outing staring them in the face. This was his messed-up twin—another one of her disasters in the making. Ever since he’d been old enough to work, he’d supported his mom and sister. Come hell or high water, he’d sent most all of his Army paychecks home, so Andy could focus on helping, finding, or rescuing Trish. So his mom wouldn’t have to worry about where her next meal was coming from, or whether she had enough money to pay rent and utilities.
Tripp would have to work overtime for the rest of his life to pay Trish’s hospital bills—if he still had a job after his meeting with Alex tomorrow morning. Her rehabilitation would be costly, and she’d require months of that. He’d rarely see his mom or her because there wouldn’t be enough damned time in the day to work his guts out and help
