We blow past the nurses’ station and go straight into the private waiting room where I see my mom sitting. I go straight to her, and she stands when she looks up and sees me.

“Liam.” Her voice is full of relief, and I pull her into my arms, hoping to comfort her, but taking just as much comfort when she looks up at me. She looks worried, but not to the point that she’s fearful for Dad’s life. I blow out a heavy sigh. Thank God.

“Can we see him?” I ask.

Mom shakes her head. “The doctors are with him right now, running some tests. They should be here with a report soon, and then we should be able to go back.”

“How serious is it?”

She presses her lips together. “I’m not sure, but from what I’ve gathered, he’s going to be okay.”

I nod, my initial fears somewhat abated. “What happened?”

“We were just in bed, and all of a sudden he was clutching his chest and struggling to breathe.”

I look at her suspiciously. “Just in bed?”

Despite the circumstances, my mother has the audacity to laugh and give me a wink. “We may be getting older, Liam, but we aren’t dead.”

Aw, fuck.

I groan. “Mother. Seriously?”

She lets out a throaty laugh. “You asked,” she says with a shrug, her eyes twinkling.”

“Jesus Christ, Mom.” I roll my eyes and catch Cara hiding a smile behind her hand. “And that’s my mother for you.”

Mom looks back and forth between Cara and me, her eyebrows arched.

“Mom, this is Cara. Cara, my mother.”

Cara steps forward and extends her hand, a small smile on her lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Donovan. Though I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”

Mom takes Cara’s hand in both of hers and gives her an appraising look before breaking into a genuine smile. “The pleasure is all mine, my dear.”

She looks like she’s about to say more. Perhaps give Cara a full interrogation. I mean, I did just show up to a serious family thing with a woman in tow. That’s never happened. Like, ever. And my mother is an intelligent woman. She’ll recognize that Cara isn’t like the women I usually go out with. Though I’m not quite sure what that means right now.

Instead of subjecting Cara to questions that even I’m not ready to answer yet, I turn the conversation back to the matter at hand.

“Okay, Mom. Tell me everything. Has Dad been having any other issues we should be aware of? Shortness of breath? Has he been taking his blood pressure medication? How’s his diet been? You know he has a stash of candy in his closet, don’t you?”

My mother places a hand on my arm with an affectionate smile. “Did you go to medical school when I wasn’t paying attention?”

I chuckle. I know she’s trying to lighten the mood, but I’m serious. I can function much better in this moment if I feel some sense of control over the situation. Because I fucking hate not being in control. And that’s exactly how I feel right now.

“Seriously, Mom. You’ve been keeping him in check, right?”

“Well,” she says slowly, “you know your father has a mind of his own. There’s only so much I can do to make him behave.”

Don’t I know it. My dad was the original lady killer. Like some old school movie star who can charm the pants off any woman. And before he met my mom, that was exactly what he did. The apple certainly didn’t fall far from the tree in our case, something Mom has told me plenty of times. Followed immediately by her assertion that one day I’ll meet my match and I won’t be able to look at another woman ever again.

Up until a few days ago, I dismissed that notion without a second thought. But I’m starting to wonder if my mom knows what she’s talking about. She came into my dad’s life, all soft, striking beauty but with an iron will and feisty attitude to match and he was never the same. At least to hear him tell it. I’ve never seen two people more in love. Ironic, considering love is something I’ve sworn off for years.

I laugh lightly, slinging my arm around my mom’s shoulders and winking at her. “I don’t believe that for a second. You trying to tell me you don’t have Dad right under your thumb?”

She smirks slightly and lifts a shoulder. “Perhaps.”

Cara lets out a little laugh, and I meet her eyes with a grin.

Mom looks between us again, smiling at Cara. “I like this woman, Liam.”

Yeah. Me too. It doesn’t even feel weird that she’s here with us in what should be a private family matter.

“I’m going to get some coffee,” my mother says, slipping out from under my arm after she gives me a quick peck on the cheek.

Then she’s gone, leaving Cara and I alone in the otherwise empty waiting room. She slips her arms around my waist and looks up at me.

“You okay?”

I stare down at her, and it hits me full on just how different she is from any of the other women I’ve ever dated. I mean, I obviously recognized that at some point, but not like this. I can see in her clear eyes that she truly cares how I’m doing right this minute. There’s no pretense. She’s not thinking about my money. Conniving about how she can get her hands on it and what I can do for her. Not concerned with how I can get her off with my huge cock—though I can certainly make her more than interested that. But that’s not the point. The point is that right now, standing here together, all she’s worried about is how I’m holding up. I don’t think any other woman has ever cared about anything below the surface when it comes to me.

Except Cara.

“I’m okay,” I say, almost mechanically. I’m putting on a good show of having it all together, laughing and joking with my mom, taking charge by asking all the right questions, trying to be a rock for her. But inside I’m a mess, and I will be until I see my dad for myself.

She smiles as if she sees right through me, but all she does is place her palms on my chest and looks at me. “I’m here for you, Liam. Just so you know. Whatever you need.”

Cara seems to know exactly the right thing to say, and I wonder if she’s been through something similar in her life. Before I can ask, my mom reappears, her shrewd eyes taking in the scene she walked in on.

Cara steps to the side, dropping her hands from my waist, but before she can move too far away, I grab her hand and interlock my fingers with hers again. I don’t want her anywhere but by my side right now.

It doesn’t escape Mom’s notice. “So, how did you two meet?” She smiles sweetly at Cara, but I know her curiosity is barely restrained.

“At the swim club,” I say, then laughingly tell her the story of Cara spilling her drink all over me.

“Hmm,” Mom says, her eyes still darting back and forth between us. “And how long have you been seeing each other?”

“Oh, just a few days,” Cara says, waving her hand dismissively, as if we’re barely more than friends.

Fuck that. I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her more tightly to me.

“Why don’t we sit down and you can tell me more,” Mom says, a mischievous smile playing at her lips.

I know she can’t wait to get the dirty details about this woman who is obviously getting to me. Normally I’d do anything to avoid a conversation like this, but right now it’s almost welcome compared to the alternative of sitting around in silence thinking about what’s going on with the doctors and my dad down the hall.

“You know,” she begins, “I don’t think Liam has let me meet a single one of his dates since he was in high school.”

I laugh, trying to make light of it. “That’s because you always mixed up their names.”

Her eyebrows arch. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have changed girlfriends so fast.” She looks at Cara and gives her a conspiratorial little wink. “You know, Liam and his brother had new girlfriends every single week. I never knew what to expect with those two.”

Cara’s gaze flicks to mine at the mention of a brother. Not ready to go there, I change the subject. “So, what about you, Cara? It’s only fair you tell us about all your boyfriends since my mother is intent to air all my dirty laundry.”

She laughs. “I think everyone who has ever seen a tabloid knows all about your dirty laundry, Liam Donovan.”

I roll my eyes and laugh, but for whatever reason, I don’t want Cara thinking about me as that guy. She doesn’t linger on it, though, and entertains us with a few funny stories of how her parents embarrassed her growing up.

My mom sits there and watches us, and when I catch her eye a few minutes later, she has a knowing smile on her face like she sees something I don’t. I give her a questioning look, but she simply keeps chatting with Cara like their old friends.

I know I should be freaked the fuck out that my mom and a woman I’m dating—because let’s face it, it’s more than one date and I don’t intend on this being the last, either, so we’re dating—are sitting here discussing childhood stories. But I’m not. It feels oddly normal.

And I have no idea what to make of that.