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“Like I said, he needs to get out more.”
“I don’t disagree with that. But as far as his liking Maddie is concerned, it might be too late to just stop him.”
“I love my brother. I think his life has a hell of a lot of value. There are many things he has yet to do, many things he can contribute, but there’s no way he’s mentally equipped enough to have an actual one-on-one relationship with a woman. He can’t always remember what day it is. Or if it’s time for breakfast or dinner.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you, Grant.” Pulling over the other hard-backed plastic chair in the room, Lynn sat opposite him, her elbows on her knees.
Exposing her cleavage, damn it. Though he was absolutely one hundred percent certain she was unaware of that fact.
“Neither Maddie nor Grant can live alone. Neither one is completely self-sufficient. But they both have feelings. Normal ones.”
He didn’t want to think about his brother getting turned on. It was… Uh-oh.
“Could you sit up please? That…” He motioned toward her V-necked cleavage. “It’s distracting.”
Clearly appalled, judging by the horrified expression on her face, the rush of color, Lynn sat up. Lifted both of her arms, hands toward her chin, in front of her.
He swore. Like a sailor. But managed to keep it silent.
“I’m…having feelings, too,” he said, when the awful expression didn’t leave her face.
She blushed again. And he smiled, a sheepish apology. She grinned. Nodded. And he wanted to take her to bed.
CHAPTER TWELVE
GRANT HAD TO FOCUS.
He might be in an exam room with a beautiful woman with whom he shared a mutual attraction, but life wasn’t about fantasy.
“I’ve been caring for my brother exclusively for seventeen years. The idea of him and a woman… It’s never come up. It never dawned on me that it would.”
“His doctor never talked to you about the fact that Darin’s sexual urges were intact?”
“Of course he did.” The doctor had been male. Close to sixty. And Grant had still been beside himself with grief. “He mentioned wet dreams as a way his body might have of dealing with the situation.”
There was a clock on the wall. Analog. High up. He stared at it.
“And I imagine he talked to you about the fact that Darin might exhibit sexually inappropriate behaviors such as masturbation in front of people.”
“Something like that.”
“Has it ever been a problem?”
Chin tight, Grant took a deep breath. Swallowed. And looked her straight in the eye. “No.”
“Often times TBI—sorry, traumatic brain injury—”
“I know what that one is.”
“Often it causes low libido. But it can also have the opposite effect and make someone more inclined to experience sexual arousal.”
“I know.”
“Which one is Darin?”
She was doing her job. And being a friend, too. They had a situation he had to face. And when he remembered that Maddie was also involved here, and Lynn obviously cared a great deal for the woman, he completely understood her concern.
“Neither. We’ve been lucky where Darin’s sexuality is concerned,” he said, making eye contact and holding it. “He’s pretty much normal in that area in his ability to experience it, but also in his awareness of social mores.”
“TBI patients often forget little things,” Lynn said. “Like the need for the use of protection.”
“Darin’s not going to have sex.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes. I do. He… We have…magazines…for him to…”
There were just some secrets a guy didn’t tell.
She nodded, then looked away. And if she was wondering if he ever borrowed his brother’s magazines… “The answer to your question is no.”
“No, what?”
“I don’t use them.”
She blushed again. Nodded again. She seemed to be having a difficult time breathing.
“I think we’ll be okay here, you know.” He was driven to comfort this woman. To make life better for her.
He had no resources to do so. Not time or money or mental focus, either. He could barely keep up with the business and Darin, let alone take on a woman.
