“That stucks.” Chloe didn’t know what she would do if she lost her family.

“Yeah, it does. When she died, Spencer reached out to my father, who told him to basically go to hell. When I found out about it, I decided to meet him.”

“Why?” Chloe would have done the same thing, but she wanted to hear his reasons from his own lips.

“Why did I want to meet him, or why did my dad not want to?”

“You,” Chloe replied softly.

“Because he’s family.” Jim shrugged. “My mother found out about Spencer and flipped out, throwing my father out of the house. He tried for a month or so to get her to take him back, but she turned vicious, and he decided it wasn’t worth it.”

“And you were dealing with Spencer?” Chloe was careful to speak slowly, sounding out each word to herself before speaking.

“Yes. We thought he had Lou Gehrig’s disease. Most people who have it die within three to five years due to respiratory failure. Spencer has been sick for three, so…”

The pain in Jim’s tone couldn’t be faked. “You taught he was dying.”

“I did. When the latest doctor told us it wasn’t ALS but chronic inflammatory demyelinating polyneuropathy, we were ecstatic.”

Chloe frowned. She’d never heard of… “What is that?”

“It’s the chronic form of Guillain-Barré syndrome, sort of. Spencer might never walk again, but we’ve caught the disease before he lost any other motor functions.”

“Ouch.” Chloe winced in sympathy. “He didn’t tell me that part.”

“The good news is that, unlike ALS, it’s not fatal. He’ll live a long, happy life with the right therapies. And he has me now, so he has family again.”

“I’m glad for him.” Chloe jumped when Jim covered her hands, stopping the destruction of the poor paper napkin. “What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His gaze remained kind, but his tone was firm.

“Tell you butt?” Man, her brain really seemed to like that word lately.

“That I was your mate.”

“Shh.” She looked around, grateful that the other diners seemed to be immersed in their own conversations. “You can’t talk about that in public.”

“All right. Calm down.” He patted her hands and let go, sitting back in his seat. “You want a burger or something else?”

She blinked. “There’s something else?”

He laughed. “Yeah, the burgers here are the best.” When the waitress, someone Chloe had never met before, walked over to their table Jim ordered for both of them. How the man knew she liked to get the extra-thick chocolate shake along with a glass of water, she had no idea, but that’s exactly what he asked for.

“Thank. You.” Chloe smiled.

“You have conductive aphasia, right?” When she nodded, he continued. “I want you to relax. The tenser you are, the harder it is to speak using the correct words.”

“I can read and write them dine, but…” She paused, trying to spit out the word on the tip of her tongue. She couldn’t quite get it to come out, but Jim waited patiently, and eventually she was able to speak. “Talking is card sometimes, and I switch words.”

“Paraphasia.” He nodded. “I looked some of this stuff up when I realized what was going on. Took me some time, but I figured it out.”

He seemed so proud of himself for that.

“Why would you? As far as I drew you wanted nothing to do with me.”

He actually flushed. “Because you’re important to me, more than I wanted you to know. I tried to stay away, to keep you out of my mind, but I just couldn’t.”

Ouch. That hurt, but at least he was being honest with her.

“Any weakness on your left side other than your hand?”

“Go. I primp sometimes in bad weather or when I’m fired, but otherwise everything else seems fine. I’ve got some tingling in my right bland that I need to have checked out soon, though.” Chloe’s left hand was still trembling, the spastic movement outside her control. “And the aphasia is mild.”

“Do they say whether or not you’ll recover any further with more speech therapy?”

She shrugged. “Pretty sure it’s as good as it’s going to set.”

“What about for your hand?”

She held it up. “Same thing.” While she’d lost some control over her motor functions, at least she could still use it to a small extent. She could hold a burger if she was careful.

Speaking of which, a plate of hot, greasy goodness was placed in front of her along with a thick, creamy shake. Another plate was placed in front of Jim, who nodded his thanks to the waitress. “Can we have two brownie sundaes for dessert?”

Chloe blinked. How in the world had he discovered her favorite dessert?

When the waitress left, Jim winked at her. “I have a weakness for chocolate and ice cream.”

She bit her lip. Sure he did. She’d seen what he ate for lunch on a regular basis. Salads with grilled chicken and light dressing, diet soda or water, and if he was really hungry he had an apple or orange for dessert. She’d worked for, and lusted after, him for quite a while. “Liar.”

“Nope. I just hide my addictions well.” He took a huge bite out of his burger, moaning in appreciation. “Besides, all those salads allow me to eat like this for dinner.”

Chloe took a much smaller bite of her own burger, savoring the taste of well-cooked meat, melty cheese and ketchup. “S’good.”

“Mm-hm.” He wiped his lips with his napkin. Frank’s burgers were not neat food. “So. What do I need to do to get you to forgive me?”

She suddenly had a hard time swallowing. Shrugging, she took a sip of water, hoping it would loosen her tight throat.

“Are the dreams as bad for you as they’ve been for me?”

She whimpered before she could stop herself.

He laughed softly. “I’ll take that as a yes.” The laughter slowly faded, a deepening hunger taking its place. “You’re stronger than I gave you credit for.” He grimaced. “Stronger than I am, that’s for sure.”

She nodded. She sure as hell was.

“Will you at least give me a chance to make it up to you?” He held up his hand before she could respond. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I’d like to try.”