Page 81 of Maxwell

Later that night, when Maxwell was spooning her under the covers—their favorite position—she realized they’d gone straight to bed and hadn’t had sex all weekend. It reminded her of what her sister, Maura, had said to her once, about how spending alone time with her husband and falling asleep next to him was romantic.

Jasmine had teased her at the time, but right now, wrapped in Maxwell’s arms in the middle of the night and listening to him quietly breathing behind her, she understood what Maura meant.

It was romantic. Everything they did together. Watching him create pottery with his hands, binge-watching television shows, eating pizza and omelets and French toast together, and problem-solving—which would likely save a little boy and his family from further damage.

The plain old comfort of being with someone you could do the most mundane things with was unmatched. Someone who made you feel safe—not just physically but emotionally. She finally understood and appreciated what her sister had said.

“Love you,” Jasmine whispered, though Maxwell was fast asleep.

Chapter Thirty-Two

At the end of the day, Maxwell was writing notes in his journal. Unfortunately, he had been correct about Trevor. The in-house screening suggested an elevated blood lead level, and he immediately drew another sample that was sent to an outside lab. In addition, Mrs. Thompson had confirmed some of the symptoms consistent with lead poisoning in her own body.

Maxwell was still beating himself up for not catching the issue during his appointments with Trevor. He should’ve asked more questions. If he had, he would have learned the family had moved into an older home and connected the dots sooner. He was glad at least that they were on the right track, and the family had answers. If the second test confirmed lead poisoning, the Thompsons could then work with specialists to get the lead out of their environment.

As he finished up his notes, a knock on the door caused Maxwell to lift his eyes from the page in front of him. Dr. Roberson walked into the office.

“Great work with the Thompson family today.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“When will we have the lab results?”

“Thursday. In the meantime, the Thompsons are staying with family.”

“Good.”

Though he sounded satisfied, Dr. Roberson seemed oddly reserved. Without saying another word, he closed the door and looked at Maxwell with surprising concern in his eyes. Unsure of what was going on, Maxwell remained silent and waited for him to speak.

Dr. Roberson tucked his hands in the pockets of his white coat. “I’m an old man, but I’m not a fool. I’ve noticed the change in your relationship with Jay, though I admit you’ve both been doing a good job of hiding it. I doubt anyone else in the office has figured out what’s going on.”

Oh shit. “Sir⁠—”

Dr. Roberson lifted one of his hands to stop him from speaking. “Do you care about my daughter?”

“Yes, sir. Very much.”

“Then I expect your attention is sincere. She might not have shared this with you, but she’s been hurt before. By someone she worked with.”

“She told me, and I would never hurt Jasmine.”

“You’re a good doctor, Maxwell. One of the best I’ve had the pleasure of working with. The mystery with the Thompson boy—Trevor—proves you’re able to problem solve in a way we don’t often see in this field. I hope you’re a good man too, because as much as I love having you here, if Jay sheds one tear over you, you’re gone.”

Maxwell had never seen Dr. Roberson like this. The boisterous, friendly personality had been replaced by unflinching seriousness, which he suspected few people ever saw. This was a father speaking to him, not a boss. A man finding a way to protect his daughter.

“I understand,” Maxwell said. He had never been warned by a woman’s father before. He was in new, unfamiliar territory.

Dr. Roberson nodded, briefly smiling, offering a temporary glimpse of the man Maxwell had originally met and come to admire. When he opened the door, Jasmine was standing outside, her hand lifted to knock.

She looked at her father in surprise. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, honey. Dr. Santana and I had a little meeting. He’s all yours.” Dr. Roberson then went down the hall.

Frowning, Jasmine entered the office. “What was your meeting about?” she whispered.

“Doctor stuff. What’s that?” Standing, he purposely changed the subject and walked around the desk.

Jasmine extended the envelopes in her hand. “I finally got around to sorting the mail, and there are a couple of pieces for you.”