Page 44 of Direct Action

“Mom.” I cut her off. “We’ve talked about this. There’s no such thing as doing too much for the people you love. And out of everyone in the world, I love you and Dad the most.”

My mom’s eyes filled with tears. She’d had enough too. It was time to get her out of her zonked-out-by-pain-killers husband’s room and on her way home. Not that sending her off to an empty house full of nothing but memories was any better, but there was nothing she could do for my dad.

“C’mon,” I said as I snaked my arm around her waist and guided her to the door. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes.”

“Mom—”

“I ate before I came for my visit.”

As soon as I closed the door to my father’s room, my mom pulled a sneak attack the way only a mother could. “It was very kind of Ryan to bring you.”

Okay, so not so much a sneak attack as it was a fishing expedition. The unfortunate part about this was, if I didn’t nibble, her parental antennae would perk up and fishing would turn into direct questions. I could skirt around the truth, withhold all the facts, dance around a topic, but I wouldn’t outright lie to my mother.

“Yes. He’s a nice guy.”

I smiled at a pretty nurse with kind eyes and a sweet grin as she hustled passed us. I was glad the people who lived here had that. I was glad the facility was clean and warm and tried to be welcoming.

Still, I would be glad when I never had to set foot back into this place. I wanted to forget it existed, not for a day or two or three but forever. But never coming here again would mean I’d never see my father again.

I shoved that horrible thought out of my head.

“Handsome too,” my mom continued.

Understatement.

Though Ryan wasn’t handsome so much as he was hot, and a magician with his mouth, and he fucked like a god. Not that I’d ever tell my mother that, but it didn’t make it any less true.

Thankfully, she didn’t require my input before she went on. “Does he have a girlfriend?”

Ryan didn’t have a girlfriend, and I didn’t need to know about his parade of women to know he wasn’t currently committed to a woman. He might’ve been a nosy, pushy bastard, but there was no chance in hell he would’ve touched me if he had a woman.

“Not that I know of,” I hedged.

We were nearing the nurses’ station at the end of the hall, and my heart clenched. This wing of Leisure Village felt different. It looked more like a hospital, less like the assisted living wing we’d moved my dad into. It was still as nice and tried its best to be inviting, comforting, but it was more clinical, more secure, which made it more obvious.

In an effort to thwart any further conversation about Ryan, I changed the subject.

“Did the doctor say anything else?”

My mom gave me a heavy sigh that didn’t state she knew what I was doing; it screamed her disapproval instead. But she was going to humor me, because she didn’t have the mental energy to argue with me, which made me feel guilty—but not enough to discuss Ryan and all the confusing feelings he evoked.

How was it possible to want to punch Ryan right in his sexy throat while at the same time curl up in his lap and beg him to hold me while I took a time-out from life.

I just needed a day or two or possibly three to sit in silence and breathe.

Just be without the world and its problems intruding.

Just to remember how life used to be.

“You can ask him yourself.” I followed my mother’s gaze across the lobby, then I physically followed her when she veered toward a tall, slender man who didn’t look old enough to be a doctor.

Or maybe it was that I was too old to still be a server and I needed to get my shit together and find an adult job.

The thought of being tied down to a career made my stomach revolt. I wasn’t flighty or irresponsible or a hater of goal-oriented, career-driven people. The opposite actually—I admired them. It was just that it wasn’t for me. I didn’t want to sit behind a desk all day. I didn’t want to spend four or eight years in school mastering a skill that would lead me to a profession I’d have to commit the rest of my life to. I wanted the life I had—or that I used to have.

I had goals, they just weren’t conventional. I had dreams and hopes for my future, they just weren’t popular in today’s society. The good news was, no one but me had to approve of what I wanted my future to look like.