“What?” I find myself genuinely curious about her perspective.
“That this current decision isn’t yours to make either.”
“But—”
Amelia cuts me off. “It sounds like your grandpa is getting a little weak and a little old. But it also sounds like he’s still very able to make his own decisions.”
“True, but he’s stubborn…”
“Oh well, now we know where you got it from,” Amelia teases, and I narrow my eyes at her, but her playful tone pulls a small, reluctant laugh from me.
“Talk to him, lay out the facts and options. It’s still his life. He should be able to decide how he wants to live it,” she advises gently.
“True, but he should take us into consideration because I’m worried about him all the damn time…” I start, frustration creeping in.
“Then tell him. Did you tell him how you feel?”
“No,” I admit, realizing I’ve been holding back.
I’ve been holding back so much out of fear.
“See? Talk to him, tell him your reasons, and maybe he’ll see the medical reasonsandthe emotional ones.” Amelia’s words are simple, but they strike a chord. Her advice sounds so clear, so rational.
“Oliver is bringing Morgan over tonight, and maybe she can talk to Grandpa as soon as she has settled in. She works as a live-in nurse, after all,” I muse, watching Peanut playfully chase another dog out of the corner of my eye.
I glance at Amelia and notice her expression shift slightly, something fleeting that I can’t quite catch. Then it clicks when she hesitantly asks, “Morgan?”
Ah, fuck.
Oliver and Amelia haven’t really spoken much, and she knows next to nothing about him—which is definitely something Oliver should work on before the girl of his dreams ends up thinking he’s in a relationship with his sister.
Well, not like that.
Better not let her jump to conclusions.
“Morgan is Oliver’s sister,” I clarify, noting the relief wash over her face.
Interesting.
Why did her relief send a pang through my chest?
“Oh, okay. Yeah, maybe she can explain what a live-in nurse encompasses. But you should talk to your grandpa first about why it’s important to you.”
I nod, and we watch Peanut in silence for a while longer, the peaceful sounds of the park surrounding us until I break the silence between us. “Come on, let’s bring him back.”
As we stand, Amelia groans and rubs her lower back, her discomfort immediately sparking my concern again. I turn to her, my brows knitting together in worry. “That bad?”
“No,” she lies, the tightness around her eyes that follows betraying her words.
I step closer and pull her to face me. My hands find her lower back, and I start to rub soothing circles. “Here?” I murmur against her ear.
“Yes,” she breathes out, the tension in her body easing as she melts into my touch. Her forehead rests against my chest, and for a moment, the world shrinks to just this—her warmth against me, the silkiness of her hair brushing my chin. I want her to stay here, like this, forever.
Lowering my head, I whisper in her ear, “Maybe you shouldn’t walk up mountains if the mountain is the one walking over you.”
“You’re so funny,” she murmurs sarcastically into my chest, but another groan softens the playful edge in her voice as I dig my fingers in a little deeper, finding the knots of tension and working them out.
As I continue to massage her back, the closeness becomes almost too much to bear. I lean down, unable to resist the pull,and plant a feathery kiss on the spot where her neck meets her shoulder. The scent of her skin—like milky London Fog tea, soothing and familiar—fills my senses, and my heart races faster at the intimacy of the moment. I know I’m treading on dangerous ground, but I can’t stop myself from wanting to be this close to her.
