Chapter 85

Jason studied Grace, who was still in a deep slumber. He felt marginally better after the doctor had examined her. But seeing her so still and lifeless, a vice seemed to tighten around his chest.

"Grace, wake up."

She didn't move.

"Sister, you have a fever and need to take this medicine."

Still nothing.

He set the glass of water on the table and grabbed the pill. The problem was, he didn't have enough hands to hold her, hold the glass, and insert the pill into her mouth.

He tried to coax her again. "Sister, open your mouth." He placed the pill near her dry lips. "Be good and take the medicine."

However, she subconsciously pursed her lips tighter. He couldn't even get the pill in, let alone have her swallow it.

Jason muttered a curse. Her body was hot to the touch, and she would continue to dehydrate if he couldn't bring her fever down. Maybe he should call an EMT and get her to a hospital; at least they could administer fluids intravenously.

But even as he thought it, he knew she hated hospitals and that they brought back bad memories. The same was true for him.

"Come now, Sister, help me." He kept his voice soft, devoid of the command and desperation he felt.

When she seemed to relax, he adjusted his hold and put the pill in his own mouth with a sip of water. Then he lifted her and tilted her head. Holding her gently, he coaxed her mouth open with his own lips. He used the tip of his tongue to press the pill inside, then he gave her the water. He angled her head back.

"That's it, swallow for me."

When her throat moved, he took another sip of water and repeated the process.

The press of her soft lips against his, the feel of her tongue—it ignited something within him.

She curled into his embrace, and he held her close. He wanted more. Of course, he wanted more. But given the circumstances, it only highlighted how irrational she made him.

She was barely conscious, burning with fever, and yet he craved her like a drug.

His lips pressed into a thin line.

"Grace…" he mumbled softly.

Suddenly, she seemed to sense him and gradually opened her eyes. Her misty gaze landed on him.

He was slightly stunned and felt an unexpected wave of anxiety. Would she resent his kiss? Had he taken advantage of her? His heart sank.

Then he saw her open her mouth and give him a silly smile. "Mom, I'll be good. I want Mom to sleep with me."

He was speechless, then burst out laughing. "Grace, it's Jay. I'm not your mother."

She smiled wider, her large eyes glassy. She was delirious; the fever had confused her into thinking she saw her mother.

At first, he felt awkward rather than offended by her mistake, but then it dawned on him that it was an honor. Grace's mother had died young. It wasn't him who was like her mother, but the sense of security and care he provided.

The corners of Jason's lips curved upward. "One of us lost a father, the other a mother, when we were young. We're truly quite similar."

"Mom, won't you stay with me? I'll be good. Very, very good…" Her eyelids were half-open, her cheeks flushed red.

His heart ached for the child she once was, alone and so eager for affection. He knew how her father and step-family had treated her—publicly denouncing her.

"Please don't leave me," she whimpered.

"All right." He couldn't help but answer. He opened his palm, took her hand, and placed it against his cheek. He gently rubbed his cheek against her palm and softly said, "Go to sleep. I'll stay with you."

The irony wasn't lost on him that he'd spent hours trying to wake her, and now he was telling her not to.

Only then did she close her eyes and fall asleep. Her slumber was peaceful as long as he held her hand.

Jason silently studied her. Grace was beautiful. The longer he was with her, the more her steely strength and gentle nature endeared him. The flush on her face only accentuated her brows and mouth. He caught himself staring at her mouth, remembering the softness of her lips and how that brief kiss had made him want more.

His feelings for her were growing. The more time he spent with her, the more he couldn't imagine his life without her.

He didn't know what that meant for his future. And he didn't want to.

"Dad! Mom!" Zoe rushed to her parents the next day. "Yesterday, Brother hit me because of Grace! He took her side—and Lily was there too! How could he embarrass us like that? And Lily was furious! It was like he was choosing that trashy ex over Lily!"

Sean's expression was grave as he sat in the Stevens' living room. He ignored his sister's complaints; his mind was on Jason's retaliation for Grace's injury.

"You saw Grace yesterday?" their father asked.

"Yes," Zoe replied indignantly. "She's just a street cleaner, but she was at the mall, even in a luxury store! And Sean had the nerve to try and buy her off! He wrote a huge check—"

"That's enough!"