The concierge glanced at Love. When she nodded, he left the room without another word.

Drake assessed Gloria, checking her airway and pulse, while Love propped her legs up on a pillow. Her pulse was strong. “Mom, can you hear me?”

Gloria moaned softly. “Lovely…”

Love knelt in front of her and picked up her hand. “Mom, I’m here.”

Gloria’s eyes fluttered open. Drake let out a quick sigh of relief. Gloria was many things, but mostly she was as much his mother as she was Love’s. Gloria had been the only motherly figure he’d had, since he hadn’t known his real mother. She had stepped in and filled the gap. Drake had never gotten along with his stepmother, and he’d been grateful that he’d had someone in his life who had supported him through everything.

“Mom, are you okay?” Love’s voice pulled him back to the present. “You fainted. Have you been taking your medication? Your insulin? Did you eat this morning?”

Gloria was a diabetic. Over the last few years, she’d had several complications as a result of her illness that had required Love to fly out to Vegas and take care of her. The most recent hospital stay was only a few months ago, and Gloria’s doctors had suggested amputation due to lack of blood flow to her legs and feet.

Love had recently told him that she’d been trying to convince her mother to get a second opinion at University of Michigan Hospital, but her mother had declined. Drake knew it bothered Love that her mother lived so far away and seemed to be getting worse.

Drake poured a glass of water and handed it to Gloria, who took a sip.

“I’ll be okay, baby.” The older woman struggled to sit up. Eventually, she simply leaned on her elbows. “Baby, please tell me…”

Love peered at Drake. “Mom, don’t think about anything right now. You need to lie back. No sudden movements.”

Gloria shook her head and finally sat upright. “I told you I’ll be okay.” She smacked Love’s hand away when she tried to keep her from rising to her feet. “You need to tell me what’s going on. And, Drake, if you don’t tell me the truth, I’m calling your father.”

The threat of his dad knowing anything that was going on in his personal life was enough to give Drake pause. Gloria had used that threat often on him, growing up. It was the only thing he’d ever responded to. Simply put, he couldn’t stand his dad. Life with him had been one disappointment after another. The safe haven that Love and her family had provided had saved him.

Dr. Lawrence Jackson, plastic surgeon extraordinaire, had always been too busy working and having affairs with random women to even care what Drake did in his personal life. What the man cared about was that Drake was surgical resident, studying to take over his own thriving practice. Except Drake never intended to become his father. In fact, he’d worked tirelessly to distance himself from the man who drove him insane with his demands and unrealistic expectations. Instead of plastic surgery, he’d chosen cardiothoracic surgery as his focus, much to his father’s chagrin.

The only thing he’d loved about living at home was his siblings—two brothers, one sister and his uncle El, who was like a brother.

The last thing Drake wanted was his father involved in the mess he’d gotten himself into. No doubt there would be a long lecture that would end in him cursing his dad out and Love urging him to apologize out of respect.

“Mother, please.” Love stood and straightened her clothes. “It’s not what you think. That man doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

Drake cleared his throat. “Mom, you fainted. You need to relax a bit.”

“I’ll relax when both of you explain to me how you came to Vegas, got married and didn’t tell me.”

Gloria’s sudden high-pitched screech caught him off guard, and he jumped.

“Why are you screaming?” Love covered her ears.

“Because!” She stood finally, pulled them both into a tight hug, and kissed Drake’s cheek. “This is so exciting. Why didn’t you tell me? You should have let me know.”

There was something about her tone that made him a little suspicious.

Love pulled out of the group hug. “Mom, you don’t understand. It—”

Gloria gasped. “We can have a small reception. Yeah. We can do it in June. That will give me enough time.” She sat back down on the sofa, then rifled through her purse and pulled out her phone. “June 10 is perfect. Oh my, I have to get out of here. I have to tell your father, Love.”

Threatening to tell his father was one thing, but there was no way Love’s father could know what had happened. He was, after all, Drake’s boss.




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