chest and dark-wash jeans hug his lean hips. His inky black hair is messy, like he’s been running his fingers through it, and his feet are bare. Not for the first time, I marvel at the sexy man he is.
“I need a shower,” he comments, coming to a stop in front of me. “You need a shower.” I arch a brow. “We should do it together.”
“Is that so?” I ask nonchalantly.
“Absolutely.”
“Well….” I drag the word out as I run the tip of my finger down his chest. “You know I’m all about saving water.”
He smirks. “See? I knew you would see it my way.”
I laugh and roll to my toes, but stop just before my lips meet his. “You still owe me more gratitude.”
His chuckle gets cut off as I close the small space between us. It doesn’t take much for my body to catch fire and for my breathing to become labored. I may have initiated the kiss, but it’s Lincoln who devours me. I moan against his lips, my body becoming needy for something only he can give it.
“Let’s go,” he grunts huskily when he pulls back.
Betsy and the journals are soon forgotten as Lincoln leads me from the room.
Chapter Seven
LINCOLN
There’s a soft tap on the door before it opens and Dr. Becker walks in. I get up from my perch on the bed beside Molly and fold myself into the chair. My gut tightens when I see his expression.
After setting his laptop down on the counter and taking a seat on the stool, he turns to face us.
“Your MRI came back with some anomalies. You have high signal intensities in the entire hemispheric cortex.”
“What does that mean?” I ask, fisting my hands on my thighs.
“It means that we still don’t know what we’re dealing with. While the cause of white matter in an MRI could be as simple as a B12 deficiency, it could also be as serious as lymphoma, and many things in between.” My heart damn near drops to my toes with his words. “However, going by your symptoms, Molly, I think we might be looking at an autoimmune disease.”
“An autoimmune disease? Those are normally pretty manageable, right?” Molly inquires hopefully.
“Most of them are, yes.” Dr. Becker reassures. “I’ve already ruled out a few based on your blood work.”
I sit up straighter in my chair. “How do we find out if that’s what she has?”
“We’ll do a more comprehensive round of bloodwork. I also want to send her for a PET scan.”
He pulls the glasses from his face and tosses them on the laptop before rubbing the bridge of his nose. The move is so unlike Dr. Becker, who’s normally very composed. A sinking feeling forms in my stomach.
“What aren’t you telling us?” Molly asks anxiously, noticing his odd behavior as well.
“There’s another possibility I have in mind. It’s so rare that I normally wouldn’t think of it and have never had a patient with it, but an associate of mine had a patient who was diagnosed with it. You share a few of the same symptoms, and along with the MRI results, I believe it’s something we need to look into.” He holds up his hand when Molly opens her mouth to speak. “As much as I want to withhold this information from you until I can rule out the possibility, I’ll give it to you if you’d like. However, I highly advise against it. Having this information will only cause you and your family to worry, especially since the chances of you having this disease are about as likely as a plane crashing into your house.”
Molly looks to me for an answer, her expression a mixture of anxiety and fear. As much as I want to demand he tell us, this is Molly’s decision. It’s going to be extremely hard not knowing, but I’d rather avoid a needless worry if she doesn’t have this mysterious disease. Besides, Dr. Becker said her chances are almost non-existent, so I’ll take that as a good sign.
“It’s up to you, baby,” I tell her. I hate leaving it up to her to make this hard choice, but I won’t make it for her unless she really wants me to.
She glances down at her hands, indecision tightening her features. I want to go to her, scoop her into my arms, and take her away from this place. I’ve always protected Molly as much as I could from all the bad life has to offer, but I know I