Page 97 of Love Expert

“I spilled it all over your kitchen. It’s abigmess.”

Another kiss. “It still doesn’t matter. I’ll clean it up later, and tomorrow, it’ll be like it never happened.” Swallowing, I drop my eyes to his burned hand. “It looks like a big burn. Are you sure it’s not?—”

“It’s mild,” Ollie insists. “I promise. We’ll get you some ointment to apply over the next few days, and I’ll teach you how to bandage it to keep it nice and clean. Other than that, he’ll have completely forgotten by this time next week.” He peeks up from beneath his lashes. “You called Billy?”

“Yeah.” I close my eyes and remember the flames of his fury. His panicked shout and his gritted snarl. “I called him while you went out toget the cream and stuff.” I rub the back of Jeremy’s hand and exhale a shuddering breath. “He and his date hadjustsat down to eat. He’s on his way back now.”

“Do you think my dad’s gonna be mad at me?” Jeremy drags his thick bottom lip between his teeth. “Cos he told me to behave myself and I d?—”

“No.” I tilt to the side and curl in beside him, laying my head on his pillow and pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “He won’t be mad at you, honey. I promise.”

“But I?—”

“He’ll be mad atme,” I admit shakily.He already is. “Because it was my job to keep you safe.”

“But if I had listened to you, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“If I’d done my job, this wouldn’t have happened.” I draw a deep breath, inhaling the scent of a sweaty little boy instead of the clinical odor of antiseptic cream and clean hospitals. “He was really worried about you. Especially because he was so far away. But he promised to come back right away. He should be here any minute, then you’ll see he’s not mad.”

At you.

“Accidents happen, Maggie.” Ollie glances up from his work, his elbows on the bed, and white gloves smeared with cream wrapped around his hands. “I know you know this, but I figure I should remind you just in case: don’t let his first reaction get to you. He’s apt to snap and shout because he never learned the art of emotional regulation. But all that shouting will be because he’s scared. Once he sees his son is okay, he’ll calm down and speak to you respectfully again. Until that point, I need you not to take what he says to heart.”

“Where is he?” Billy’s voice booms from somewhere in the hall. “Oliver Darling!?”

I close my eyes and will my heart to slow.

“Here he comes,” Ollie murmurs, smearing fresh cream onto his fingers and applying it to a red patch on Jeremy’s wrist. “I’m gonna need you to take big breaths. Both of you.”

“Jeremy Caster! Where are you?”

“Remember,” Ollie adds softly. “He loves you both. Very,verymuch. He’s just scared.” Drawing a deep breath, he sits back and peels his gloves off. Folding them into a ball, he sets the ball on his tray and pushes off his chair. His long coat hangs to the backs of his knees, his broad shoulders swelling and widening as he approaches the door. Stopping on the threshold, the calm to Billy’s chaos, he lifts his chin and—obviously—locks eyeswith the man he once considered his best friend in the whole world. “We’re in here, Detective.”

“Ollie! Oh, thank G?—”

Ollie lifts his hand and plants it square in the middle of Billy’s chest, stopping him before he can steamroll straight in. “I’m gonna need you to cool it down. Jeremy’s okay, but he’s kinda freaking out about the trouble he’s gonna be in, rather than focusing on the fact he got hurt.”

“Get the fuck out of my way.” He slaps Ollie’s arm to the side and barges into the room, all six and a bit feet of brawn and potent rage. His eyes, bright green and terrified, sweep the length of his son, from his shoes to his ruffled hair, then they come to me and shutter. “Jeremy.” Exhaling his dismissal, he rushes forward and commandeers Ollie’s rolling seat, stopping with his chest touching the edge of the bed and blinking, blinking, blinking through the moisture in his eyes. “Scared the crap out of me, buddy.” He studies Jeremy’s reddening arm—I swear, it’s getting worse, not better—then he tilts his head and reads the tube of cream Ollie’s been applying. Bringing his eyes back to his son’s, he reaches across and takes his unharmed hand for himself.

He takes it away from me, like I don’t exist at all.

“Are you okay?” Billy presses a kiss to the top of Jeremy’s hand. Another to his wrist. “I swear, I was so scared for the whole drive back.”

“Are you mad at me, Dad?” Jeremy’s eyes spill over. “Cos I touched the pot when I wasn’t supposed to.”

“No. I’m absolutely not mad at you, buddy. It was an accident, and my only concern is making sure you’re okay.”

Luciana stops in the doorway, shyly linking her fingers together and hovering with uncertainty. Coming in? Going? She looks to Ollie, her eyes widening when another boy from her past transforms into a full-grown adult, then she looks to me and swallows.

Coming? Going? She has no clue.

“Are you mad at Maggie?”

I bring my focus back to the Caster pair, Jeremy’s question pinging in the back of my mind.

“Cos she thinks you’re gonna be mad at her, Dad.”

“No. I’m not mad at her either.” And yet, Billy’s voice turns impossibly hard. His eyes sear, and his jaw flexes with the words he refuses to voice. “But I’m mad at myself.”