Jason winced at his brother’s phrasing. His cell rang. Ming was calling.
“Is everything okay with Evan?” The concern in her soft voice was a balm to Jason’s battered emotions. “It’s been almost a half an hour.”
He couldn’t tell her what he thought was going on while Evan could overhear. “He threw his back out in a bicycle-riding accident this morning.”
“Oh, no. There should be some ice packs in his freezer.”
“I’ll get him all squared away and be there in a half an hour.”
“Take your time. It’s been a long couple of days and I’m exhausted. Wake me when you get here.”
He ended the call and found himself smiling at the image of Ming asleep in his bed. This past week without her had been hell. Not seeing her. Touching her. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind.
“Ming told me to put you on ice.” Talking to her had lightened his mood. He needed to get his brother settled so he could get home. “Do you want me to bring the ice packs to you here or upstairs?’
“What the hell do I care?”
Evan’s sharp retort wasn’t like him. Lily’s refusal had hit him hard. Fighting anxiety over his brother’s dark mood, Jason bullied Evan upstairs and settled him in his bed. Observing his brother’s listless state, Jason was afraid to leave him alone.
“Are you going to be okay?”
Evan glared at him. “Why aren’t you gone?”
“I thought maybe I should stick around a bit longer.”
“Sounds like Ming is waiting for you.” Evan deliberately looked away from Jason, making him wonder if Evan suspected what Jason and Ming had been up to.
“She is.”
“Then get out of here.”
Jason headed for the door. “I’ll be back to check on you in the morning.”
“Don’t bother. I’d rather be alone.”
The fifteen-minute drive home offered Jason little time to process what had happened with Evan. What stood out for him was his brother’s despair at losing the woman he loved.
He stepped from his garage into the kitchen, and stood in the dark, listening. The silence soothed him, guided him toward the safe place he’d created inside himself. The walled fortress that kept unsettling emotions at bay.
He glanced around the kitchen and smiled as his gaze landed on the chair where he and Ming had made love for the first time. Just one of the great moments that had happened in this room. In almost every room in the house.
He had dozens of incredible memories featuring Ming, and not one of them would be possible if he hadn’t opened the doors to his heart and let himself experience raw, no-holds-barred passion.
But desire he could handle. It was the other strong feelings Ming invoked that plagued him. Being with her these past few weeks had made him as happy as he ever remembered. He couldn’t stop imagining a life with her.
And this morning he’d been ready to make his dreams reality.
But all that had changed tonight when he’d mistaken what was going on with Evan and relived the terror of the night he’d found his father in the garage. The fear had been real. His pledge to never fall in love—the decision that had stopped making sense these last few weeks—became rational once more.
He couldn’t bear to lose Ming. If they tried being a couple and it didn’t work out, the damage done to their friendship might never heal. Could he take that risk?
No.
Jason marched up the stairs, confident that he was making the right decision for both of them. He’d expected to find her in his bed, but the soft light spilling from the room next door drew him to the doorway. In what had been his former den, Ming occupied the rocking chair by the window, a stuffed panda clutched against her chest, her gaze on the crib. Encased in serenity, she’d never looked more beautiful.
“Where’s all your stuff?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s in the garage.”
Gone was the memorabilia of his racing days. In its place stood a crib, changing table and rocker. The walls had been painted a soft yellow. The bedding draped across the crib had pastel jungle animals parading between palm trees and swinging from vines.
She left the chair and walked toward him past the pictures that had graced her childhood bedroom. He’d gotten them from her parents. Her father was sentimental about things like that.
“Who helped you do this?”
“No one.” His arms went around her slim form, pulling her against his thudding heart. He rested his chin on her head. “Except for the paint and new carpet. I hired those out.”
“You picked all this out by yourself?”
Jason had never shopped for a Christmas or birthday present without her help, and Ming was obviously having a hard time wrapping her head around what he’d accomplished in such a short time.