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“I want to, but I don’t know if they’re going to let me.” He looks so sad, so disappointed, and I wish I were actually there to comfort him.

“I’m sure they’ll let you play,” I say, my voice falsely bright. “You’ll feel better tomorrow, I’m sure of it. Did they give you anything to help with the pain?”

“Oh yeah, I’m wearing a brace and they gave me a cortisone shot, and they gave me some painkillers, though I really don’t want to use them. My knee is swollen, and they said they’re going to get me in for an X-ray or a CT scan tomorrow or Monday. I don’t know.” The frustration is clear in his voice, on his face. “I just don’t want this injury to end my career.”

Fear makes my voice tremble. “Is it that bad?”

“They’re thinking it could be pretty bad,” he admits.

I feel like he’s putting on a brave face so I won’t worry. He’s telling me the things he wants me to hear, what he wants to believe, but it’s not the whole truth.

“I wish I was there with you,” I whisper.

He smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, which tells me he’s extremely worried. “I wish you were too. Though I don’t think there’s much you could do for me.”

“I could rub your shoulders. Fix you your favorite foods,” I suggest.

“You can cook?”

I wrinkle my nose. “Not really.”

He laughs, and the sound eases my worry. I love it when he laughs. “You really can’t cook, Sus?”

“Not particularly. My mother never taught me how, because we have cooks on staff,” I say.

“Just how rich are you?”

I never did divulge much about my family’s financial status. “We’re one of those rare nobility lines that actually has money versus just a title and a crumbling estate. The Sumner men have worked in finance for generations,” I tell him. “They invest wisely.”

“So that makes you worth some money.”

“We have some money, yes.”

“That’s why you only work part-time.”

“It was a volunteer job at first,” I admit, making him chuckle. “What, it’s true! I’ve always loved art, and was an art history major in college.”

“Did you graduate?”

“No.” I feel a little helpless at admitting this. “I haven’t accomplished much in life.” I sound morose, only because I’m ashamed. He’s done so much with his life in such a short amount of time and I’ve done…

Absolutely nothing.

“Hey, don’t be down on yourself. I think you’re pretty awesome.” He smiles, and seeing it brightens my whole mood.

“Thank you. Here you are injured and worried and you’re trying to make me feel better,” I say.

“It’s what I do.” He leans in so I can see his face even better, and I’m filled with the need to kiss him. That he’s thousands of miles away is a true obstacle. “How are your parents?”

“It’s their thir

tieth wedding anniversary tonight,” I say. “And I forgot.”

“So you didn’t bring them a gift?”

“No, I did not. I am their gift. The gift that keeps on giving.”

“I’d like to think you’re my gift,” he says, his voice dipping low, his eyes getting that sleepy, sexy look I know and love.


Tags: Monica Murphy Forever Yours Romance