The sun shone through the blinds, and the sound of someone moving around in the kitchen awoke me slowly, but then I startled awake because who the hell was in my kitchen? It took me a few seconds of blinking around the room in confusion to remember where I was, and why I heard someone moving around. I was on Sarah’s couch, and it must be her moving around, because she lived here. Yawning, I sat up slowly and rubbed my eyes.

As if she sensed me waking up, she popped her head out of the kitchen. She wore a grey pencil skirt, a button up blouse, and she’d knotted her hair at the back of her neck.

Fucking perfection, like usual.

“How do you like your eggs?” she asked.

“Huh?” I mumbled, still groggy.

“Eggs. Scrambled? Fried?”

“You don’t have to cook for me,” I said slowly.

She waved the black plastic spatula around. For all intents and purposes, she looked much calmer than the night before. Any hints of vulnerability and fear were gone, and her mouth was relaxed instead of pinched together tightly. “I’m making them for Mom anyway. She’s hungry.”

“What kind is she having?”

“Scrambled,” she replied right away.

“Then scrambled it is.”

She nodded. “Go wash up and get ready. It’ll be a few minutes.”

And then she was gone as quickly as she’d came.

I yawned again, then stood, stretching. I’d slept in a pair of sweats and a loose T-shirt instead of my boxer briefs, since I figured me walking around the house in my underwear wasn’t a good idea for either of us. As I made my way barefoot toward the bathroom, I passed her mother’s room.

The door was open, and she was sitting up.

I hadn’t seen her in years—ten, to be exact. Somerton was a small town by California standards, sure, but that still made it pretty damn big, and I rarely ran into people since I usually spent most of my hours at the precinct.

Her hair was grayer than I remembered, and someone had brushed it smoothly over her shoulders, more than likely Sarah. She wore a nightgown with flowers on it, and was tucked in cozily with knitting on her lap. I’d read a study once that Alzheimer’s patients retained memories of activities that required hand eye coordination, even though they couldn’t remember the year, or their names. Guess that held true, since she was knitting something.

As if she sensed me standing there, she lifted her head and looked at me. Frowning, she cocked her head. “Who’s there?”

I started to back up, remembering quite well that Sarah ordered me to leave her alone so I didn’t upset her.

But then she ordered, “Come in, young man.”

Hesitating, I glanced over my shoulder, then stepped forward. It wasn’t in my DNA to disobey a direct order, especially not from a sick old woman. “Yes, Mrs. Lopez?”

“Who are you?” She studied me. I stood a little straighter. “Are you new here? I don’t remember seeing you before, and yet…you remind me of someone.”

I stepped closer, smiling. “I’m new, but I’ve been here a few times. How are you feeling today, Mrs. Lopez?”

“Tired.” She yawned. “The other nurse is making me eggs. Are they almost ready?”

The other nurse… Sarah? She didn’t know who her own daughter was? Well, shit. I mean, yeah, I kind of knew that, but seeing it first hand was different. “They’ll be ready soon.”

“Excellent.” She winced. “Can you adjust my pillows? My back hurts.”

“Of course.” I went inside the room, my steps slow. Should I fix them, or let Sarah handle it? Was there a proper way to do so? I was way outta my league here, and I knew it. “Did you sleep well last night, Mrs. Lopez?”

“I did.” She sat up, saying nothing more.

I reached around her gingerly, hesitated, then squeezed the pillow directly behind her, fluffing it up. After doing the same to the rest of them, I smiled and said, “All set.”

She leaned back, sighing. “Perfect, thank you.” She glanced at the window. “Can we go for a walk today? The sun is shining.”

I glanced outside, too. It was, indeed, shining…but I wasn’t sure if she could go on walks. Her brain wasn’t functioning properly, sure, but what about the rest of her? Was she allowed outside with supervision? I made a mental note to ask Sarah for more information on her mother, so if this happened again I’d feel less like a fish out of water. “I’ll have to ask the other nurse. I’m too new to answer that.”

“All right,” she said, her tone dismissive.

I backed toward the door. “If that’s all—”

“Can you find my yarn?”

I swallowed hard, glancing over my shoulder. Where the hell was Sarah? “Your yarn?”

“Yes, it’s red. I’m making my baby a hat.”

“Your…baby?” I said slowly, walking toward her. “You mean Sarah?”

She lit up. “Yes. You’ve seen her? Isn’t she adorable?”

“She is.” I swallowed hard and lifted the red yarn and needles off her lap. It was, indeed, what looked to be a baby hat. My heart wrenched, both for the woman in the bed and for Sarah. “The cutest.”

Mrs. Lopez took the yarn. “She takes after me.”

“Of course.”

“Do you know how to knit?” she asked me.

“Actually, yes, I do.” I perched on the edge of the bed. “My mother taught me when I was eleven. I never stopped, and still occasionally pick up the needles to relax. It’s been too long since I held some yarn, though. I’ll have to start a project.”

“How long?”

“Months,” I admitted. “Almost a year.”

She beamed. “No one should go that long without knitting in their lives. Want to do a few stitches for my baby?”

“I…” I hesitated. “Are you sure? It’s your project.”

“I’m sure.” She held it out again. “Go on.”

I took it, positioning the ball of yarn in my lap. I studied the pattern. Standard ribbing: purl two, knit two. “This looks great.”

“Thank you.”

I slid the needle inside the yarn. “How old is your baby?”

“Six months.” She lit up even more. “She rolls over, and is almost crawling already. She’s so terribly clever.”

“Indeed.” I slid the stitch to the other needle. “I’m a huge fan of your daughter’s.”

Mrs. Lopez studied him. “Are you?”

“I am.”

She touched his hand. “Don’t forget to switch to the knit stitch.”

“I won’t.” I did as told.

“Do you sing?”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Do you sing? Your voice…” She faded off, staring into the distance.

After a period of silence, I swallowed. “I sing in the car, and the shower, when I’m alone.”

“Can you sing for me?”

Well, shit. I’d never sung in front of someone before. “What song?”

“Anything.”

I racked my brain for a song I could sing, and settled on a song I’d heard on the radio yesterday by Ed Sheeran. I sang to her, low and soft, as I knit. She laid back on the pillows, closing her eyes and smiling. I watched her as I knit and sang to her, my heart wrenching painfully in my chest. This woman, this vibrant woman, had lost so much in her life…

But so had Sarah.

She’d come back here, despite the risks to herself, to care for a mother who no longer remembered who she was. It was a horrible reality to have to face daily—all alone. I kept singing, keeping my voice soft as I started a new row. She’d closed her eyes, and she looked at peace, so I didn’t want to stop.

“Your eggs are ready, Mrs.—” Sarah came into the room, breaking off midsentence. She stared at me with wide eyes, her face going pale, and her gaze dipped to the knit hat in my hands. “What are you doing?”

I stopped singing immediately, standing with a pounding heart. “I…uh…”

“Sit again, please,” Mrs. Lopez said, catching my hand. “Keep singing to me.”

Sarah stared even harder now, her grip on the tray of food tight. “Singing?”

“She asked me to sing to her and knit,” I said gently, standing up despite her mother’s pleas. “So I did.”

She said nothing. Just stared.

Turning my back on her, I set the knitting down in her mother’s lap. Smiling, I leaned down to her level and touched her cheek gently. “I’ll sing to you again later, okay? Eat your eggs now.”

Her mother nodded. “I am hungry.”

Sarah pulled herself together and passed him with the tray. “They’re nice and hot, just the way you like them.”

“Did you make some for my baby?”

Sarah forced a smile as she set the tray down. I knew I should go, but I felt like she needed someone there with her. “Yes, she’s eating now.”

Grace came in, wearing a pair of green scrubs. “Sorry I’m late. I hit traffic, but I’m here now. Go get ready, I’ll stay in here with her.”

“It’s okay.” Sarah didn’t look his way. “Come on, Ben. Breakfast is ready.”

As we walked away, I heard Mrs. Lopez ask, “Can you sing to me while I eat? That other nurse had such a nice voice.”

I swallowed and closed the door behind us. The second we were alone, I started talking. Knowing Sarah, she was pissed as hell at me for intruding on her personal life like that. “I was walking by, and she spotted me. I swear that I didn’t upset her, I just followed her—”

Whatever I’d been about to say got cut off as Sarah pushed me against the wall, slammed her body against mine, and kissed me. It was the first time she’d willingly done so since we’d been thrown back together, and there was something behind it—an emotion I couldn’t name—that took my damn breath away.

Groaning, I caught the back of her shirt at the base of her spine, fisting it and pulling her against my chest. Her mouth opened, and I took full advantage of that, sweeping my tongue into her mouth without even a hint of hesitation even though this shouldn’t be happening right now.

If Captain found out…

Hating myself for caring, I pulled back and ended the kiss before things went too far. She immediately went in for another kiss, making a protesting sound as she buried her hands in my hair and tugged me down.

I resisted. “Sarah…”

She froze at the sound of my voice. She looked up at me—confusion, need, and pain in those deep dark brown depths of hers—not moving. I could see it. The desire to keep going, despite the consequences. I wish I could feel the same, but I couldn’t do that to her.

There was too much on the line.

“I want this. I want you.” I swallowed. “But we can’t. If we get caught by—”

She pushed off me, pushing her hair out of her face. “I know.”

“Sarah—”

She held a shaking hand up. “I know.”

Without another word, she headed for the kitchen. I followed her, my body aching to stop her, spin her in my arms, and take her against the wall until we both forgot every single reason we shouldn’t be together…

No matter the cost.