I break every speed limit as I race back to Berkeley and my woman. I can’t begin to guess what uncomfortable information she has to share, but it’s definitely bad news. She wouldn’t have bothered me at work or requested I come home had it not been important.

After parking behind Sunflower, I use my key, type DARA into the security system, and take the back stairs up to Luna’s place two at a time.

When I get there, the door is unlocked, soft music is playing in the background, and the smell of grilled peppers and onions wafts in the air.

“Luna?” I call out, rushing to the bar counter of her small kitchenette. I stare, looking her up and down, from her bare feet and red-tipped toes, up her calves to the hem of her sleep shorts and camisole, over her perky handfuls, along her neck and arms to her face. There’s nothing I can physically see on her that would warrant any concern. “You okay?”

She tips her head to one side and then the other. “Yeah. But…here.” She sets a bottle of Patron on top of the counter and pours two shots.

Tequila.

I’ve been with Luna two months now, and not once have I seen her drink hard liquor. This news must be bad if she’s bringing out the strong stuff.

She turns down the burner under a pan of green, red, and yellow peppers and some onions she’d been cooking. A stack of corn tortillas are next to the stove, and cut-up steak seems to be ready to sear in a silver metal bowl. The entire room smells delicious, and my mouth waters. If I wasn’t so fucking scared out of my mind with whatever it is Luna needs to tell me, I’d be sneaking bites of her homemade meal.

Luna walks around holding out a couple wedges of lime and some salt. She grabs my hand, brings it to her mouth, and licks the space between my thumb and forefinger. My dick stirs in appreciation at her blatant sexual gestures.

“Lamb…” I warn through clenched teeth.

“Just go with it,” she says while shaking some salt onto the wet spot.

She does the same to her own hand and then hands me the shot and one for herself. “Namaste.”

Together we hold one another’s gaze—for fear of the seven-year bad-sex rule—lick our hands, slam the drink, and bite the wedge of lime. The sour taste floods my tongue along with the burn of the alcohol.

“Sit. If you’d like, have another.”

“You need to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Luna nods, rises on tiptoes, kisses me, and then focuses her gaze on mine. “I will, but honey, when I’m giving bad news, I need to be able to do something. Today, I’m going to be making the man I love some fajitas. Do you like fajitas?”

“Yeah.”

She rubs her hands along my chest. “Okay. You sit there, and I’ll talk.”

I’m not prepared for what she says.

“I went to UC Davis Medical Center today to see your sister. Greta.”

Instantly, a pang of irritation strikes my heart. “Luna…you shouldn’t have done that.”

She drops the meat into the pan with the veggies and pours a little more olive oil in with it. Immediately it pops and sizzles. “Yes, I know. I just couldn’t see you upset anymore.”

“And did you see her?”

“Yes.” One word. Nothing more.

“Don’t keep me in suspense. Why didn’t she return my calls?”

Luna pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. “You see, that’s the thing. She wanted to call you. And she would have Grant, I promise.”

“I hear a but coming on.”

Luna inhales, closes her eyes, and turns toward me. “She couldn’t call you back because she’s in the hospital. She’s been admitted. Grant, honey, your sister’s really sick.”

I grip the arm of the stool so hard my knuckles turn white. “Okay. How sick?”

Luna swallows, and her eyes tear up. “Very. She has aplastic anemia.”

“Forgive me, I have no idea what the fuck that means. I went to business school, not medical school.”

Luna stirs the meat and veggies, her eyes stuck on the stove. “It means her body is no longer creating red and white blood cells. She needs a bone marrow transplant as soon as possible.”

“What?”

“Yeah, apparently she got really sick after she had her second child…”

“She has children?” I gasp, my heart pounding a rock beat in my chest.

“Yeah, honey, she does. A four-year-old boy and a six-month-old girl. When she had her daughter, she got what she thought was the flu. The symptoms got worse from there. Now they’re at the point they need a donor.”

I run my hands through my hair a few times, allowing the strands to fall through my fingers. “Fuck. She’s sick.”

“Yeah, but…um, she’s on a donor list. They’ve been waiting for two weeks. She’s been hospitalized this whole time. Apparently, when we saw her, that was the last night she was feeling well enough to really go out.”

I focus on the Patron bottle, grab it, pour myself another shot, and toss it back sans the salt and lime. It scalds a trail down my throat, which suits my mood.

“What are the odds of her getting a bone marrow donor match?”

Luna purses her lips and turns to me once more. “Well, you see, that’s the thing. It’s not that easy. She’s been living off transfusions for the past few months. And the most likely donors are…” Tears fall down Luna’s cheeks as she looks at me.

“The most likely donors are what? Tell me!” My voice rises right along with my ire.

“Siblings.” She mutters this like it hurts for her to even say the word.

A bullet to the chest would have been the only thing that could shock me more. “Are you telling me I could be a bone marrow match?”

Luna nods, more tears falling down her cheeks.

Well, this is too goddamned much! I practically fly out of my chair, the stool falling to the ground. “Fuck!” I tug at the roots of my hair and start pacing. “You mean to tell me my sister is fighting a life-threatening disease that could kill her, make her children motherless, and I could be the one to fucking save her?”

I clutch at my chest as my heart burns like fire. Shivers rack my frame, and I’m on my knees. Tears pouring down my face as the sobs tear from my throat.

Luna’s arms come around me from the side. “I’m sorry, Grant. I’m so, so sorry this is how you’re finding out.”

Years of being alone swim over my battered mind.

My mother hugging me the last time.

Her red hair flying in the breeze as she leaves.

Her rounded belly…

I never recalled that last part in my memory; I was always so focused on the fact that she left. Walked right out of my life and never came back. Apparently she took my sister with her.

“Fuck! I need to be tested. Immediately. I have to go there now!” I attempt to stand, but my knees fail, my body ravaged with heartache.

Luna’s right there, her loving arms holding on to me. “Visiting hours are over. There’s nothing you can do tonight. Tomorrow we can go there. Together.”

“I just found out I had a sister, and now she could be taken away?”

“I know…” Luna’s voice is soft as she runs a hand up and down my back in soothing movements.

“Why didn’t she come to me sooner?” My voice cracks, filled to the brim with sorrow.

“When I asked her the same thing, she said she didn’t want you to feel used. Said you’d been used your whole life, and she never wanted to be one of those people.”

Her answer pounds against my mind and heart. My long-lost sister was protecting me. Sacrificing…for me. The only other person who has ever done that in my lifetime is Luna. Definitely not my father.

“I don’t even know what to say.”

Luna nods, helps me to a stand, and wraps me in a hug. I hold her for a few long minutes, breathing in her comforting scent, reveling in her love.

“Come. Sit at the bar. Eat. We need to talk some more. There’s a few things that didn’t add up during my conversation with Greta.”

I blink tiredly and let her urge me into my seat at the bar. She goes back around, pours me another drink, which I toss back in a second flat, before she continues cooking her dinner. Luna lights the burners once more and finishes up the meal efficiently and with her normal Luna flare. Which means there’s all of the fixings, everything you could ever possibly want on a fajita and then some.

A steaming, mouthwatering plate of meat, peppers, and sides is set on my plate with a tortilla holder between us.

Luna comes around, sits her pert ass on the stool next to me, and grabs my hand. “Eat. You’re going to need it.”

I watch her eat as though the food could disappear off her plate at any moment. Makes me wonder if she was poor or had little to eat and that’s why she’s so quick to eat her meals and loves food so much, but I know her mother and father were middle class and food on the table couldn’t have been a problem. Like anything with Luna, it’s a wonderful mystery. Something uniquely her. One of the many things I love about her.

When I’ve finished my first full fajita, she turns toward me. “I met your mother today.”

I can feel my eyes widen unnaturally in their sockets. “What?!” I roar.

She jerks back and then swallows. “I, uh, met Gretchen Winters today. She was in Greta’s room when I arrived.”

“You mean the woman is still here? As in, the San Francisco area?”

Luna shrugs. “Grant, I’m not sure. She alluded to knowing who I was, even said, ‘You’re my boy’s girlfriend.’ As if she was meeting her son’s girlfriend like any other day of the week. I can’t say I wasn’t taken aback. It was weird.”

“Fucking hell.”

“And there’s more.”

“Jesus Christ. I’m never letting you out of my sight again. All hell breaks loose,” I growl, but I try to remain as playful as I can, even though my insides are knotting up with every new admission.

Luna sips her water and wipes her mouth. “When Greta and I were talking, she made a comment that she and your mother used to go to your lacrosse games in college, and they both watched you walk the stage from high school and college. Cheering you from afar.”

On that admission, I toss the fajita to my plate and push it away. There is no way I’m getting one more bite down my gullet now that it’s churning with straight-up acid.

Luna clasps my hands. “You need to talk to your mom.”

“You think?” I shake my head, and her expression falls into one of sadness. I squeeze her hands. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you. I’m frustrated by the situation. One thing is piling on top of another. Two weeks ago, I found out I had a sister. Today you tell me she’s sick with a life-threatening illness I can possibly help cure. On top of that shit storm, you met my mother, whom I haven’t seen in thirty years.”

She cups my cheek and leans forward so our foreheads are touching. “I know this is a lot to take in. Just remember, you’re not alone, Grant. Not anymore. It’s you and me now. I’m here to support you through every step. I’ve already called subs for my classes tomorrow. You can call Annette and have her clear your day. Heck, clear the next few days, if you can. Whatever it takes.”

“Yeah. Tomorrow we’ll go down first thing in the morning.”

“Visiting hours don’t start until ten a.m.”

“Fuck! How am I supposed to wait that long?”

Luna runs her fingers through my hair. “It will be okay.”

“She has children. A boy and a girl?” My voice shakes at the thought that I have a niece and a nephew. Real blood relatives. Ones I hope I can get to know.

“Yeah, honey. She didn’t say what her boy’s name is, but the baby is Gabriella.”

“Gabriella. Pretty,” I murmur, committing the name of my one and only niece to memory.

“Yes, it is,” Luna agrees.

“I can’t eat any more. I’m sorry. My stomach is tied up in knots.”

She lifts my plate and takes it into the kitchen to dispose of the half-eaten food. “Go take a load off. Watch something mindless on TV.”

I nod, kick off my shoes, and remove my suit and kick it to the side. I don’t even care if it gets wrinkled. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters right now other than getting to my sister and figuring out how I can help. I flop onto the bed in only my boxer briefs and undershirt. My mind is spinning a mile a minute, but the same simple fact keeps popping up again and again.

I can’t bear to lose my sister. I just found her.

* * *

Luna is squeezing my hand as I practically drag her through the hallways of UC Davis Medical Center.

“Room two oh two,” she says, pointing in front of us.

I had the evening to sit and stew over everything I found out. None of it good, aside from the knowledge that I might be able to help.

As we reach the door, Luna tugs on my hand, stopping me in my tracks. “Grant, you need to calm down. I know you’re eager to see her, but the woman is still battling a very serious illness. Try to be calm, okay?”

I close my eyes, clench my teeth, and nod curtly. She’s right, of course, but that doesn’t change the vortex of emotions hammering me at every angle.

She taps on the door and then opens it. “Hi, Greta, it’s Luna, and I, um, I have Grant with me.”

“Come in,” I hear from beyond the door.

I follow Luna inside and find Brett sitting next to his wife, brushing her long brown hair. He stops and glances at us, his jaw firm, his emotions on his sleeve.

Anger.

Pride.

Grief.

I can only imagine what he’s feeling, knowing his wife’s condition and not being able to help. On top of that, I was a dick to them at the restaurant weeks ago, which I’m sure is not helping the current waves of distrust and agitation I’m sensing in the room.

Luna walks over to Greta and grabs her hand. “How are you doing today?” she asks sweetly, her voice like a song even when she’s asking something as mundane as finding out how someone is.

Greta offers a small smile. “I’ve had better days,” she answers.

I grind my back molars in an attempt not to burst with the war of questions and thoughts I have inside me.

Greta’s blue eyes shift to me. “Brother.” She smiles a bit bigger and reaches out a hand.

A single word, and I’m figuratively brought to my knees. My spine stiffens, the hairs on the back of my neck prickle, and my nerve endings fire with the desire to move, to do something. Anything. I take hold of her hand and stand near her bed, staring into eyes so much like my own. Her hand is warm and dry but still.

“Greta, I’m sorry you’re unwell. Luna has informed me of the details behind your condition.”

“I’ll be okay.”

I raise my eyebrows up. “Then you’ve found a donor?” I deadpan, getting right to the heart of the matter.

She closes her eyes. “No, but I will. I’m sure I have many years left on this earth.”

I clench my teeth. “I’m scheduled to be tested later this morning,” I announce.

There’s a definite benefit to Luna being best friends with a well-respected doctor at this facility. We were able to call Dr. Amber Alexander last night and inform her of my desire to be tested. She promised to notify the appropriate parties first thing. She kept that promise. Not an hour before visiting hours were to open, I was called by a staff member in the Hematology Department to schedule my test.

“Grant…you didn’t need to do that—” Greta starts to object.

I cut her off. “Yes. I. Did. For once in my life, I have family. We may not know each other, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you die and not get my chance to get to know you.”

Tears fall down Greta’s cheeks. “I didn’t want you to come into our lives this way…” She hiccups and sobs.

Brett takes her other hand and brings it to his lips, kisses it, and comforts her. “Pookie, you have to let him get tested. This could be your best chance for a match. You know they told us siblings were the most likely source for a bone marrow match that would produce new cells after transplantation. There is also the least chance of rejection.”

More tears fill Greta’s eyes. “Grant, I wanted you in my life. Not to have to save it.”

I grab her other hand and smile. “That’s what big brothers are for, right?”

She laughs and grips my hand with both of hers.

“I’ll never be able to repay you for this, especially if you’re a match.” She sucks in a shallow breath.

“Then you’ll owe me one someday.” I grin. “Maybe when Luna and I have children, you’ll babysit for us.”

Her eyes shine with happiness. “I’d love that. And you have to meet my kids, Gavin and Gabriella. Gavin looks exactly like you. Brown hair and blue eyes. Gabriella is her daddy’s girl. Blond hair and light eyes. We’re not sure of the color yet, but I want you to meet them soon.”

Luna runs her hand down my back and curls against my side. I loop my arm around her waist, appreciating her warmth and solidarity. “I look forward to that day.”

A nurse enters the room and greets Greta and then informs us she needs to take some blood samples and other medical things she needs privacy for. I nod and then lean over Greta’s bed and place a single kiss on her forehead.

“I’ll let you know the results of the test. I’m slated for eleven a.m. They said it would only take a few hours because they have hematologists on hand here to run the necessary tests. We’ll know this afternoon.”

Greta nods. “Thank you, Grant. I’m not sure there are words that can express my gratitude for what you’re doing.”

“Just live… That’s all that matters.”

I turn around and head out the door, Luna by my side, until I hear Brett call from somewhere behind us.

“Grant, hey, wait up.” He jogs the twenty odd feet to us. “Look, man, I know we got off on the wrong foot…”

“All my fault.” I raise my hands in a gesture of surrender. “I wasn’t expecting to hear the information your wife told me. Having a sister wasn’t even on my radar.”

Brett rubs at the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I didn’t take your response well. It’s just with Greta being sick and a new baby… The house of cards is falling down around me.”

I reach my hand out and cup his shoulder with the most supportive gesture I can muster. “It’s okay. I understand. Any man in your position would lose his mind. If it was Luna…” I shake my head.

Brett nods and swallows, his voice scratchy when he responds. “What you’re doing could save her. Truly save her life, and I’m thankful. So, thank you. For what you’re about to do.”

“Man, we don’t even know if I’m a good match.” My own voice cracks, and I cough to clear it.

“No, but the fact that you want to try means a whole helluva lot.” He pulls out a business card. “This is my contact information. It has my cell phone on it too.”

I reach into my own pocket and pull out one of my cards and hand it to him. “Same here.”

He pockets the card and smiles. “Okay, well, keep us posted.”

“Will do.”

“Thanks again. Good seeing you, Luna.”

“You as well,” Luna states, looping her fingers with mine.

We both watch as he walks back to his wife’s room, his shoulders down and his head forward.

Luna leans her head against mine and runs her free hand up and down my arm. “You’re a good man, Grant Winters.”

I look down and kiss her forehead.

“Let’s go see about the test. I hear it’s a bit painful.”

“Oh…I’m sure I can nurse you back to health,” she says suggestively.

“Lamb, are you suggesting some sexy role playing where you’re the hot nurse and I’m your patient?”

She giggles. “Maybe. Why? Does that excite you?”

“Hell yes! Come on, Nurse Marigold, I know how we’re going to kill a few hours while waiting for the results after my test.”

“You’re a bad boy.”

“Just a minute ago I was a good man. Now I’m a bad boy?” I knock her shoulder with my own.

She chuckles, and the sound lifts my mood. “You’ve got me.”

“Oh, I have no doubt I’m going to get you…right between your pretty thighs.”

“Shhhh! Grant!” she scolds, and we laugh all the way to my appointment with the lab.

Please, God, make me a match.