Page 90 of Dare to Love Again

She gaped at him and that he’d spouted off private medical information—accurately—as though he were her doctor for real.

“Is there nothing you Rossi men don’t know about me?”

“Highly doubtful. Jonas Mitchell ran background on you, my lovely, and he doesn’t miss much.”

“Did he discover I’m cursed, and it spreads to the people I care about?”

“Here we go again,” he muttered, his face contorting in disgust. “The only curse any of us has is being human. We’re finite, girl. No one is guaranteed to see tomorrow, so we must live today to the fullest.”

“You sound like Finn,” she grumbled.

“That’s because he, like me, is a wise man. You say you’re cursed because you’ve lost people you love, but you’re looking at things wrong. You were given not only one man to love in your lifetime, but with Keiran, life or fate or destiny, whatever you want to call it, has given you the chance to have two. In my book, that’s what you call lucky, not cursed.”

Not knowing how to reply to that, she didn’t, and Thomas went on.

“Your parents could have been drunks, drug addicts, or physically abusive, but were good, hardworking people who loved you. Don’t deny it because that’s in your file, too. Is that part of your curse? Some people would give anything to have that for a year, but you got, what, twenty?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Mmm-hmm, now I see how it works.” And he wasn’t done, pressing his point further. “Your husband must have been a real asshole.”

“I get your point.”

“Do you? You had five happy years with him, not long, but would you erase it because of how it ended, or go back and do it over again?”

She didn’t answer, her head dropping into her hands. She’d give anything to replay every minute of every day she had with Andrew.

“That’s what I thought. And now you’ve got another chance at something special. You’re not cursed, Esmerelda Spade. You’re blessed.”

“You’re thinking is skewed by grief,” Val offered gently, “but if you look at it from Thomas’ perspective, you’ve had more years filled with happiness and love than not. Can any of us ask for more than that?”

“But what if I lose Finn, too?”

“It could happen,” Thomas answered, earning a severe look from Val.

The dom’s response was to arc a brow at her sharply then go on just as bluntly. “Don’t expect me to blow sunshine up the girl’s ass. Death comes every day, but so does life, about every eight seconds. And each of those babies born will live seventy-eight years on average in the US, some a lot longer. Not trying with Finn because you’re afraid he won’t make the averages is like betting against the house. That’s fucked-up logic.”

“Thomas!” Val exclaimed.

“Am I wrong?”

“No, but she’s fragile right now. You could go a little easier.”

“Fragile, my ass,” the painfully direct doctor shot back. “Submissives are some of the strongest people I know. They have to be to put up with the shit we doms dish out.”

Val’s blue eyes narrowed on the man. “What kind of doctor are you anyway?”

“Does it matter?”

“We call Thomas, Jack, sometimes, baby. Jack of all trades because he does it all. He takes a rotation as a trauma physician at County, does an annual stint with Doctors Without Borders, serves as our house doctor at the club whenever we call, and because he got his MD on the GI bill, he likes to relive his youth by moonlighting for us at Rossi.” This came from Eric who was standing in the doorway watching, a grin on his face.

Finn stood alongside him, his serious expression suggesting he didn’t find the conversation amusing like his friend did.

Esme looked at him, standing tall, and strong, and seemingly in one piece. To be sure, she ran her eyes over his beautiful body, searching for proof he wasn’t.

“Thank you, God,” she uttered in a barely audible prayer.

“Come here, Esme.”

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