Before We Kiss (Fool's Gold #14)

“You keep Shelby safe and I’ll follow you to hell, Ms. Tilson.”


“Mayor Marsha, please. That’s what everyone calls me.” She rose and lightly touched his hand. “You don’t have to be alone in this, Kipling. Nor do you have to go all the way to hell. Just come to Fool’s Gold when you’re able. We’ll be waiting for you.”

She pulled a business card out of her pocket and handed it to him. “My cell number is on the back. You can reach me anytime. Let me know when you’ve moved back to the States for your physical therapy and I’ll come visit. We’ll talk about the search and rescue team you’ll want to put together.”

He glanced from the business card back to her. “Is this for real? You’ll take care of my sister?”

“I will. You have my word. I’ve already called my friends and they’re on their way to see her right now. Once they arrive, your sister will never be alone with your father again, Kipling.”

She reached for the button on his morphine drip. “May I?” she asked.

He nodded.

She pressed the button. Seconds later the drug entered his system and the pain began to ease.

“Be well, Kipling,” she said. “When you’re ready, come to Fool’s Gold. I think you’re going to like it there.”

He nodded and she left. A few minutes later, one of the nurses came in.

“I saw you had a visitor,” she said with a grin. “Was that your granny? Oooh, what a handsome man she was with. A few years younger, judging by appearances. She’s, what, sixty? And he didn’t look a day over fifty. You have to respect that. He reminded me of that actor fellow. Now what was his name?”

The nurse kept up her cheerful chatter, but Kipling wasn’t listening. Instead he turned the business card over and over in his hand and hoped Mayor Marsha Tilson of Fool’s Gold had been telling the truth. That Shelby was safe and that his old man would get what was coming to him.

* * *

SAM CARRIED TWO suitcases to the car. While he was happy to get his house back to himself, he always felt a little sad when his parents left. Yes, they drove him crazy—but they were still family.

His mother was waiting for him when he returned to the house. She took both his hands in hers and smiled up at him.

“You’ve grown into quite the man,” she began.

He held in a groan. There was no telling where this was going. “It was great to see you, Mom. You and Dad. The lecture went well. I was proud of you.”

She studied him. “Were you? I sometimes wonder. I know...” She drew in a breath. “I don’t mean to embarrass you,” she told him.

He drew back his hands. “I know that.”

“Which is not the same as saying I don’t.”

“No.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Mom, you and Dad are great, but I don’t get how you can just talk about what you do and be the way you are in public.”

“I can see that. You’d never have sex onstage.”

“I wouldn’t even think about sex while onstage.”

“You’re missing out,” she began, then shook her head. “No, you’re not, are you?”

“Not as far as I can tell.” He searched for something supportive to say. “I know you help people with what you do. They’re grateful. And you do have a lot of information. I want to hear about your work, but I don’t want you going through my closet or telling me about how you and Dad did it last night.”

She nodded. “Last night was actually very traditional,” she began. “With your father on top and—”

“Mom!”

“I’m sorry.” She led him over to the sofa and urged him to sit, then she did the same and angled toward him. “Sam, I remember your first asthma attack. It was the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen and I have to say it was still the worst experience of my life. Watching you unable to breathe, seeing you turn blue. I would have given my life for you.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. You and Dad.”

“We know. It’s just you were so sick for so long. And then when you started to outgrow your symptoms you wanted to test yourself. I was frightened.”

He wasn’t sure what this had to do with her sexual oversharing but he was willing to go with it.

“I worried. We both worried and yet we had to let you be. But in my heart, you were always that little boy, gasping for breath.”

“Mom,” he started, but she held up her hand.

“I don’t try to embarrass you on purpose,” she continued. “I’m open and excited to share every part of my life with the people I love. I want to know everything about you.”

Which would be the problem, he thought. “I’m not comfortable with that,” he told her.

“I know. I think I’ve always known, but as your mother, I thought I had special privileges.”