Page 102 of Irresistibly Wicked

ZANDER HADN’T REALIZED how much his memory issues had been weighing on him until he’d agreed to go to see a doctor. The last week and a half, while he’d waited for his appointment, had been stressful, worrying about what the doctor would say. He’d done his best not to let Shauna see his anxiety or let it hinder their fun. Last weekend they’d gone to see Madigan play a musical storytelling gig with Tobias, Gunner, Sid, Zeke, and Aria, a beautiful, sweet, though quiet, blonde with colorful tattoos, and the other night they’d had dinner with Maverick, Chloe, Baz, and Emerson. But as he walked out of the doctor’s office with the reassurance that what he was experiencing wasn’t abnormal, he was overcome with relief. For the first time since the accident, he felt like he wasn’t standing on a trapdoor, and he had Shauna to thank for it.

He walked into the waiting room, and his Angel jumped to her feet, heading straight for him. “How’d it go?” she asked anxiously. “What did he say?”

“It turns out my brain is only half-broken.” Taking her hand, he headed out the door. “The doc said it’s normal to have trouble finding some words after a head injury, and it was progressing as is to be expected. He said it should get better with time.”

“That’s great!” She threw her arms around him, and as she stepped back, flashing the killer smile that always knocked him a little off-kilter, she said, “And your brain is not half-broken. You’re just healing.”

“Thanks for pushing me to go to the doctor, Angel, and for coming with me,” he said as they came to his truck. “I uh…” He looked away for a second, his emotions too raw. “The last week and a half, while we were waiting to see the doctor, I was…I’m glad you were with me. Thank you.”

Her gaze softened, and for a second he thought she might say something to reveal feelings similar to his, something to negate their arrangement and make it real. But she reached for the passenger door and said, “Hand-holding clause. It’s mandatory, remember? I expect the same if something happens to me.”

“You know I will.” He helped her into the truck and went around to the driver’s side. As he drove away from the medical building, he said, “We should go celebrate. How does ice cream for dinner sound?”

“Great. After we tell your parents.”

“Yeah, about that.” He wasn’t looking forward to admitting he’d lied to them. “I’m fine, so there’s no reason to tell them.”

“Alexander Wicked, your family would go to the moon and back for you, no questions asked. You need to come clean with them. It’s the right thing to do. You shouldn’t carry this alone when you have such a great support system.”

“I’m not.” He cocked a grin. “I’ve got you, bestie.”

She gave him a deadpan look.

“I’ll tell them another time, okay? I know you want your sundae.”

She reached across the cab and touched his arm. “Please? Your family planned a wedding for you and your temporary wife, a woman they didn’t even know, and they’ve welcomed me into their lives with open arms ever since. Don’t you feel even the slightest need to be honest with them?”

Fuck. Yeah, he felt the need, but it wasn’t going to be easy.

“Fine. Let’s get it over with.” He glanced at the clock on the dash. 5:30. “By the time we get back, they should be home.”

ZANDER WAS HOPING his parents had gone out to dinner or decided to work late. Anything other than being home when they got there. But no such luck. He pulled open the kitchen door, and his parents’ dogs barreled out, their tails wagging. He and Shauna loved them up on the way in.

They were greeted with the savory scents of something roasting in the oven, bringing back warm memories of loud family dinners and late-night leftovers. But that didn’t keep his gut from fisting as his mother breezed into the kitchen, her face lighting up at the sight of them.

“Zander, you didn’t tell me you and Shauna were coming by. What a nice surprise.” She hugged Shauna. “Hi, sweetheart. How are you?”

“I’m doing really well tonight, thanks,” Shauna said.

“Mom, I wanted to talk to you and Dad. Is he around?” Zander was surprised to hear himself say Dad and not Preacher, but it made sense. He felt like he was twelve years old again, about to tell his parents he’d busted his bicycle tire riding in the quarry they’d told him to stay away from a hundred times.

“He’s out back with your grandfather, building a kiddie-size picnic table for the yard.” Her brows knitted. “Is everything okay?”

He hadn’t planned on telling his grandfather. This ought to be fun. “Yeah, fine. Mind if we go talk to him?”

They headed outside with his mother and the dogs. His father was bent over a sawhorse by the shed, circular saw whining as it ripped through a piece of lumber. His grandfather stood off to the side, his arms crossed and his face pinched as the saw wound down.

“Too short,” his grandfather barked.

His father set the board aside, scowling. “It’s perfect.”

“Perfect, my ass,” his grandfather muttered. “You cut it half an inch shy. Didn’t I teach you anything? Measure twice, cut once. Think you’d’ve learned by now.”

His father reached for the measuring tape, lifting his gaze to Zander, and said, “If I ever do this to you, feel free to kick my ass.”

“Well, well, if it isn’t the honeymooners,” his grandfather said. “I didn’t know you were coming over tonight. I would’ve asked you to bring some cookies.”

“Sorry, Gramps. It was kind of spur of the moment.”