Page 65 of Once Upon A Player
At the front door Dad gives me a firm handshake, before pulling me into a quick, awkward embrace. “Don’t be a stranger.”
His unexpected hug is a little embarrassing, but in a weirdly good way. “No chance of that. It’s only Spain, not Australia.”
As we drive away, Violet lets out a long sigh. “That was nice.”
“My eccentric family hasn’t put you off, then?”
“Did mine put you off me?”
“Your family’s great.”
“Ditto.” She rests her hand on my thigh before slowly sliding up my leg. I let out a breath. Thank God it’s only a twenty-minute drive home. “You know, I’m sure I’ve seen Margo before, but I can’t think where.”
I attempt to focus on something other than getting Violet naked ASAP. “She rips politicians to shreds on live TV.”
“Oh,that’sright.” She nods in recognition, and her fingers trail over my hard-on. I nearly mount the damn pavement. “How long have she and your dad been together?”
“What?” I shoot her a disbelieving glance. “They’re not together. Margo’s just been part of the family for…” Christ, I don’t remember a time when she wasn’t around. “She and my mum were good friends.”
“Oh, sorry. I just thought… Well, their body language. That’s all.”
Theirbody language? What the hell? Is DaddatingMargo?
No way. Mac would know, and my sister could never keep that kind of secret from Harry and me.
“Uh, no. Definitely not.” Besides, Dad would never go out with another woman. Not after Mum.
“Okay.” Violet somehow manages to unzip my jeans, and I forget about everything but how her hand feels on my dick.
Need to get home. Stat.
Chapter Twenty
Violet
Please be okay. Please be okay.
I pick Sam up from school on Thursday afternoon, and by the time we get home, Mum and Dad are back from her appointment. Nerves jiggle in my stomach as we go inside. I don’t know whether the fact neither of them texted me after seeing her specialist is a good or bad sign.
Think positive.Sam charges into the front room, where Mum’s propped up on the sofa, and regales them about his day. I try and pick up subliminal messages, but it’s not working.
After about two minutes, I can’t stand it anymore. “Sam, why don’t you get a snack? I left stuff out in the kitchen.”
Sam shuts up like magic and tears into the kitchen. I take a deep breath, which doesn’t help the butterflies at all, and glance between my parents. Is it my imagination or are they trying to avoid my eye?
“Well? What did she say?” I realize I’m wringing my hands, and it’s a big effort to stop.
“Now look, Violet,” Dad says, which isn’t a very encouraging start. “We don’t want you to worry. But the thing is,” he looks at Mum who gives a jagged sigh.
“They did some tests.” She sounds so exhausted, and my insides cramp in sympathy. “The inflammation’s really bad in one part of the bowel. That’s why my meds weren’t helping the way they should.”
“Okay.” I nod, to show I’m on top of this, even though it’s not okay at all. “So, what’s that mean?”
“Surgery.” Dad gives awe’ve got thissmile, which doesn’t fool me for a second, as the word and all its implications hammer through my mind.
“I didn’t think surgery was an option.” I collapse onto the edge of the nearest chair, cross my legs, and grip my knee with both hands.
“It wasn’t, but now it is. The doctors want to remove the small section that’s become blocked. And they think Mum has a great chance of going into long-term remission afterward.”
