Once I’d gotten through the first flurry of hunger, I set my fork on my plate and answered his question. “I’m glad to be here—as long as that’s okay with you. I needed a change from UCSF, and Hana’s begged me to visit, so… Yeah, I’m glad to be here.”

  “Good.” He met my gaze, his eyes vulnerable. “You’ll treat her well, right? I mean…”

  I reached over and rested my hand over his. “Yes, Lennon. That’s why I’m here. I want your mother to have every possible chance.”

  “Thank you.” The words came from deep inside.

  “You’re welcome.” I patted his hand a couple times, then returned to my meal. We ate in companionable silence for a while. “I thought about what you told me,” I said.

  He hummed questioningly since his mouth was full.

  “I believe you.”

  He patted his lips with his napkin. “I’m glad. I won’t lie to you, Vivi. I promise.”

  “And I’ll always be honest with you—about your mom but also about how I’m feeling.” I rubbed my finger across the smooth wood of the table, enjoying the satiny feel. “I’m scared to trust you,” I told him. “I’m scared you’ll change your mind, and I’ll be hurt. But I’m scared not to try because I’ll be hurt.” I lifted my gaze to his. “Please don’t hurt me, Lennon.”

  “Maybe we could try a date or two,” he suggested. “You can see how that feels.”

  “I kind of get the sense we’re on one now.” I glanced around the homey kitchen, smiling because it reminded me of my mother’s place.

  “I’ll take you on all the dates, Vivi. Anywhere you want to go.”

  My breath stuttered as I inhaled. “One day at a time, Lennon. A bit more trust each day, that’s how you can prove you’re serious about me. I don’t want a grand gesture. I want to know, in my bones and heart, that what you’re telling me is true.”

  He nodded. “I respect that.”

  “Guess we’ll see.”

  “You will.” He hesitated. “And I want you to know, I’m not sucking up to ensure you give my mother better care. I know you’ll do that, no matter what happens between us.”

  “You’re right, I will. I guess I’m glad you realize that.”

  He stared deeply into my eyes. “I remember everything we ever talked about, Vivian. I know how important your patients are to you. Thank you for allowing my mother to be one of them. Thank you for getting past your anger with me to care for her.”

  My heart, the one that had been Lennon’s since he’d handed me my hat, melted. “I want to trust you, Lennon Cruz. Don’t blow it, because I won’t give a third attempt.”

  He gave a sharp nod. “Understood.”

  Chapter 17

  Chapter

  Lennon

  * * *

  The next morning I stared at my face in my bathroom mirror before I ran my hands over the neatly trimmed beard that still covered my face from my cheekbones to my Adam’s apple. I rubbed my throat where it met my neck, feeling the thick ridge of scar an inch from my carotid artery. If that piece of shit had had better aim, I would be dead.

  “Huh…” I hadn’t realized that before. No clue why it hit me now, but it did, and hard. My hands shook, and I had to hold on to the edge of the counter to stay upright through the quaking. My vision tunneled.

  I’d be dead, and my mom would still have cancer, but I wouldn’t be here to help her. And Vivi…she would have had to live with my death.

  “I’m alive. I’m here. Vivian’s here. No one is hurt.” I repeated that mantra over and over until I regained control.

  I stared at myself in the mirror. My eyes were a bit wild, my lips compressed. “You’re going to be okay. It’s fine. You’re fine.” I nodded, and I had to admit, I did feel better—maybe because I’d admitted my fears to Amber, maybe because I’d faced Vivi and finally been able to come clean. Or maybe because there was hope that I’d be able to move forward with Vivian, that she’d still want me even after I’d ghosted her.

  Belladonna pawed the air next to my leg as she whined. “Yeah, that was a lot, wasn’t it?” I settled on my bathroom’s tile. “Come on, girl. I could use a snuggle.”

  Because Belladonna had been raised to work with Army Rangers, she wasn’t much of a snuggler. But she was also a dog, and she cared about me, just as I cared about her. When I opened my arms, she dove against my chest, nuzzling me as she made soft noises.

  I stroked her head as I stared at nothing, letting my mind go as it needed to. Vivian would help my mother through her treatment regimen, and my mother wasn’t a quitter. My mother’s decision to bring Vivian to Houston was a huge signal of approval—one I wasn’t sure Vivian realized.

  While she hadn’t said it to my face, my mother’s decision to hire Vivian had told me to get off my ass and live before it was too late. I took a deep breath and released it slowly. I couldn’t do much more about that situation right now except be there for my mom. And I totally would. I planned to spend all my free time here, with her, until I knew she was in remission.

  I was a mama’s boy and proud of that—proud of my mother’s work ethic and parenting, which had created four successful, thoughtful people. Proud to be a man she’d helped mold.

  I had a much better chance of controlling the situation with Vivian, I decided. I could take her out, spoil her, show her how much she meant to me. I’d start by inviting her to my hockey game later this week.

  Belladonna rose from my lap and shook, so I got off the floor, wincing at my aching butt. I texted Amber and asked to sit with her before practice. Then I contacted Coach Whitaker. He agreed to let me come in a little late since we were lifting weights before ice time.

  An hour later, I sat in the chair I considered mine in Amber’s office, scooching until I was comfortable as I leaned my head against the back, hands on the arm rests. I explained what had happened yesterday and my thought process this morning. “I feel lighter,” I told her, “like my body and mind needed to push that shit out of my head.”

  “And now? What do you want to do now?” Amber asked. She sat across from me, ankles crossed, glasses on the tip of her nose, expression intent.

  “I want to marry Vivian, and I want my mom at the ceremony.”

  Amber raised a well-groomed eyebrow, a smile curving her lips. “Those are some goals. I assume you don’t mean today.”

  “I’m putting them out there to manifest—not today but not too far in the future. I knew Vivi was it for me when I met her last September, and seeing her again has reinforced that.” I grinned and leaned forward, slapping my hands on my knees. “That’s all I got for today.”

  “All right. And Lennon?”

  “Yup?”

  She offered me a full-watt smile. “I’m really impressed with you.”

  I snorted. “I was a dick.”

  “We all tend to lick our wounds when we’re hurt.”

  “Yeah, well, I need a make-amends list,” I said as I stood.

  “I like that,” Amber said, also rising. “Tell you what, let me know how that goes.”

  I paused. “You mean…”

  She chuckled. “I mean you can come back when you want, if you want.”

  “Can I give you a hug?” I asked. “Before I skip out of here a free man?”

  This time, she belly laughed even as she opened her arms.

  That afternoon, after practice, I hesitated for the first time in my entire life before entering my mother’s house. I was at the back door, which led into the laundry room and beyond that, the kitchen. Belladonna sat and looked up at me, but I stood mesmerized by the sound of Vivian’s laughter.

  I’d missed her laugh. Much like a parched plant lifting its leaves to life-giving rain, I felt myself unfurl, expand, grow. With a smile I pushed open the door and stepped into the room, that lightness in my chest expanding when Vivian laughed again.

  “Really, Lola? He said that?”

  “Oh, yes. Little Lennon was quite the comedian.” My mother glanced up at me from her spot at the kitchen table, letting me know she was aware I was there. Vivian’s back was to me, slim and straight. Her hair was piled atop her head in that messy style my sisters preferred when they were lounging. I drank in the elegant, ivory column of her neck, the delightful curves of her shoulders, the slim musculature of her bared arms.

  “But his brother, Ruben, died when Lennon was in middle school. He was in the army, a Ranger.” Mom smiled with pride. “He and his K-Nine were killed.”

  “I’m so, so sorry.” Vivian’s long, elegant fingers encased my mother’s darker hand. Mom patted Vivian’s hand with her free one before she returned it to her mug.

  “Thank you, querida. That was long ago. My heart, while not whole, is at peace.”

  “I wonder if I’ll get there. I still grieve my mother,” Vivian said.

  “You will,” Mom said with a gentle pat. “Now, let’s discuss my first treatment plan.” She raised her eyebrows at me. “I want it to start after Lennon’s next game. I don’t get to see enough of those.”

  My mother held season tickets, which she’d refused to let me buy her. I knew what she was doing, and I appreciated the effort. Who would have thought my mom would be my best wing person?

  “Hey, Mom,” I said as I closed the mudroom door behind me. Belladonna raced over to Vivian, all tail wags and lolling tongue. I glanced from Mom to Vivian, noting her surprised expression. “You’re coming to the game? Want to be in the owner’s box? I’m sure Gunnar would love to have you and Vivian there.”

  “That’s perfect, Lennon.” She beamed. “I’ll give my tickets to⁠—”

  “Please don’t give them away,” I groaned.

  She clucked. “I’ll do what I want with them, and what I want to do is give them to my boss. It butters him up, which will be helpful when I need to take more time off.”

  Her mouth tightened, and I noted the strain in her eyes. My mother was scared. I hated that she felt that way. I walked across the tiles and hugged her. “Of course, Mom. Of course.”

  She rested her head against my shoulder for a moment before she patted my back. “So, the game. This will be Vivian’s first one, so you boys better win.”

  “I’ll do my best,” I said.

  My gaze met Vivian’s, and I saw softness in her eyes. I’d talked to her about my close relationship with my mother and sisters, but maybe she hadn’t realized I’d meant it. “So, I’d suggest you get there about an hour early. I’d offer to take you⁠—”

  “No, I don’t like going with you, hijo,” Mom said. “I’ll drive. But tell you what—you bring Vivian back after you celebrate your win. That way she’ll get more time with the CATS.”

  “That’s not necessary—” Vivian began.

  “Hana will be there,” I said. I’d already talked to Naese to make sure. “And Paloma, she’s our coach’s wife, is looking forward to meeting you. So are the rest of the ladies.”

  Vivian frowned. “CATS?”

  Belladonna accepted pats from my mother, gave her a soft lick, and settled under the table.

  “Comrades, Allies, Teammates, and Spouses. Gunnar Evaldson, our owner, wanted to be as inclusive as possible,” I explained.

  “Isn’t that kind of him?” Mom said. “Now, that’s a man who needs a strong partner.” Mom launched into a story about Gunnar, then another. I was surprised, but somehow not, to learn the two of them were friendly.

  After a delicious meal, I did the dishes. Wiping my hands on the dish towel, I felt a pang of disappointment. “I have to head out. Belladonna needs a run and so do I.” I patted my stomach. Belladonna perked up, coming out from under the table.

  “Oh! Take Vivian. She was saying she wanted to learn the running trails. Plus, she hasn’t seen your place yet.”

  Again, my mother’s meddling warmed my chest. She really was a fabulous woman. I faced Vivian. “If you want…”

  Vivian licked her lips, her gaze darting between us. “Okay. Just let me change.”

  Mom waited until Vivian was in her room before she said quietly, “That girl needs love, Lennon. She’s starved for it.”

  I nodded. “I want to give it to her. All of me.”

  Mom reached up and patted my cheek. “You already do. She just needs to realize.”

  Chapter 18

  Chapter

  Vivian

  * * *

  I squirmed in Lennon’s huge truck’s passenger seat, wondering how I’d been so easily manipulated. Well, I’d wanted to come with him, wanted to see if we still had that connection. Belladonna made herself comfortable in her large, cushy dog seat that took up the entire backseat of the truck. I loved that Lennon spoiled his dog.

  “Want to run first or go by my place?” he asked.

  “Run, please.” I was nervous and needed something else to focus on.

  Lennon drove to Memorial Park, a large expanse of trails and trees interspersed with thick slabs of grass. “I can’t believe we’re so close to downtown,” I said as we got out. “I can barely hear the traffic noise.”

  Lennon smiled. “It’s not Central Park, but it’s pretty nice. Ready?”

  “Yep.”

  Belladonna trotted beside us, and I noted that Lennon shortened his stride to match mine. We made an easy loop that was probably a couple of miles, and by the time we’d finished, I was sweaty and probably red-faced. I lifted the hair off the back of my neck and fanned my cheeks.

  We walked back to his truck, where Lennon offered me a bottle of water. He poured some into a bowl for the dog before he drank his own. I’d known from the beginning that he was a kind man, but watching him care for his dog, his T-shirt plastered to his chest and the thick slabs of muscle on his abdomen, caused a thrum of desire.

  I finished my water, both pleased to know the connection was still there and afraid to explore it. I inhaled. The only way I could manage these feelings was to work through them, so I might as well start. “Thanks for the run,” I said. “I needed that.”

  He pulled a couple of hand towels from his gym bag and offered me one. We both wiped away perspiration.

  “Sure. I like to run. Quiets my head. And with my mom…I think I’m going to be in the best shape of my life.”

  I laid my hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry you and your family have to go through this, Lennon.”

  He nodded. “I know you’ve been there.” He cleared his throat and worry settled in his eyes. “How are things looking? I mean, any update on her prognosis?”

  “It’s actually really good,” I said. “She said I could talk to you about this—otherwise, I couldn’t.”

  “I get that.”

  “So…yeah, the biopsy was positive. The mass will be removed this week, but it’s small and localized. The first round of chemotherapy starts next week, and we won’t know how she reacts to that until we get there. But she’s healthy, and we have ways to mitigate the symptoms.”

  “Good. That’s all good.”

  I hesitated. “She doesn’t need a private nurse. It’s a large expense and⁠—”

  He squeezed my fingers. “Please don’t worry about the money. I can afford it, if she’ll let me pay.”

  I laughed. “She won’t.”

  “She won’t,” he agreed. “She wants you. And I want you there with her. As long as you’re okay with your arrangement, we’re all happier for it.”

  I blew out the breath I’d been holding since the plane ride here. “Okay.”

  “I’m really glad you’re here, Vivi.”

  I smiled at him. “Me, too.”

  “Want to swing by my place now?” he asked. “I’d love to show it to you.”

  “Let’s go.”

  He helped me back into the huge pickup, and I buckled in while he started the engine.

  “So…you don’t live far?” I asked.

  “Not too far. I wanted to be close enough in case my mom needed me—when I’m in town, that is.”

  “How much do you travel?” We hadn’t discussed his season in great detail when we met. Now, I had a better sense of his travel time, which he confirmed for me.

  “About half the season. Sometimes that’s lumped together, and we can be out of town playing an away series for eight to ten days, but that’s rare.”

  I frowned as I studied his profile. He glanced at me, and I liked how the sunlight glinted off his brown eyes.

  “That’s a long time. Isn’t it hard on families?”

  “Yeah, it is. I’d say the travel is the hardest part of being a professional athlete. Partners have to handle whatever comes out while we’re playing. It takes a real toll on relationships. But Coach and Gunnar, they’ve worked to build a network so the families have support. Whatever it is—emergency care, new baby, problems with teens—the Wildcatters organization has a liaison on call that partners can reach for help.”

  “That’s really smart. And so thoughtful,” I said.

  “It’s also self-serving.” Lennon’s mouth kicked up in a smile. “If a player’s worried about what’s going on at home, the distraction impacts performance.”

  “Ah.” I settled back into the seat.

  After another moment, he pulled into a parking garage. Once we exited the vehicle, Belladonna trotting at Lennon’s side, he led me to the elevator and upstairs to his place. I felt his sideways glances that lingered on my legs and bare arms, and I shifted. While my mind kept telling me to be wary of him, of his lifestyle, my heart pushed me toward him. With a mental sigh, I gave in.

  I pivoted so my chest pressed against his and rose up on my tiptoes. Before I could blink, I’d touched my lips to his. Lennon made a gruff sound as his arms encircled my waist, his hand splaying wide between my shoulder blades. I shivered as his fingers touched my skin. He angled his head to deepen the kiss, and I opened my mouth, encouraging his tongue.

  I’d missed this—missed him. Each inhale brought more of his scent into my lungs, creating a heady cocktail that made me shove my chest more fully against his hard pecs. He stroked into my mouth, tasting, gauging, learning me and my preferences all over again. Yet it was also like coming home, because he knew me, knew that I went weak in the knees when his tongue rubbed the corner of my bottom lip. He knew I liked to grip the hair at the back of his head. And he knew I couldn’t resist when he cupped my jaw, holding me in place as he plundered my mouth.