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Authors: Joyce Lamb

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Sitting back on his heels, he watched her slip the shoe on and try twice to tie the laces. Her face flushed, and tiny beads of sweat popped out at her hairline. When she fumbled the laces the third time, he leaned forward and nudged her fingers aside. “Sit back,” he said.

“No, I can—”

“Sit back.” When she didn’t move, he looked up at her with narrowed eyes. “Please.”

She obeyed, letting her breath out in a pained hiss.

Sliding her other shoe on, he made short work of the laces. “So I guess you’re going to hold it against me that Daniel and I are friends.”

“I already knew that.”

“We were roommates in college.”

“Good for you.”

Cole looked up. “What difference does it make anyway?”

“That’s a pretty silly question. Men might not talk about their relationships as much as women do, but they still talk. And I know Daniel. He spins a good tale.”

“What happened between you two doesn’t matter to me.” As soon as he spoke the words, he realized they were a lie. Of course, it mattered. He didn’t think he would ever be able to forget what Daniel had told him. What she’d done struck far too close to home.

Bailey pushed herself up off the sofa, her hand planted firmly against her side. “I want to go home—” She broke off, closed her eyes briefly. “I want to go to my brother’s. Are you going to let me call a cab or am I hitchhiking?”

His throat ached, though he couldn’t say why. He had lost nothing. There had been nothing between them to lose. Yet disappointment churned through him. “I’ll take you,” he said.

“Fine. I’m ready to go now.”

“You need to eat something and take your medication.”

“I’ll take them later.”
 

“You need them now. Especially the painkiller.”

Green sparks of temper flared in her eyes. “What difference does it make to you?”

He stared at her, perplexed. She was willing to endure pain so she could get away from him a minute faster. And, damn it all to hell, the realization hurt.
 

 
“I’ll get dressed,” he said.

 

* * *

 

Alone, Bailey sank down onto the sofa and lowered her head, the fingers of her left hand curled around the edge of the seat cushion, her right clamped against the gnawing ache below her breast. She wanted to cry, scream, something.

She liked Cole Goodman. He’d proved himself to be a kind, decent man. And, God, that body. When he’d walked out of his bedroom without his shirt on, all muscled ridges and tanned, smooth skin, she would have goggled if she hadn’t already been struggling with the reminder that he was a better friend of Daniel’s than she’d thought.
 

Her throat tensed as she imagined what Daniel had told him about her. He’d made it good, obviously. Something truly heinous. And there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Whatever she said would sound like she was either trying to turn Cole against his friend or cover her own butt. And, knowing Daniel, if Cole went back to him with her version, the pissing match would begin. She didn’t stand a chance, so why bother?

“Ready?”

She opened her eyes to find Cole standing near the front door in light khaki cargo shorts, a half-tucked navy T-shirt and ragged Nikes. He hadn’t shaved, and the light beard that tempered the angles of his jaw made his eyes even bluer.
 

“Ready,” she said.

Before she could stand, he strode a few paces toward her. “I don’t understand why you’re mad at me. I didn’t do anything.”

She decided to stay seated, preferring not to rise while he studied her so intently. She hated that she had already been weak in front of him. “I’m not mad.”

“Yes, you are. Your body language is screaming at me.”

She forced herself to relax, telling her body language to shut the hell up. “Why do you care?”

“I want to know. Maybe I think I deserve to know after … yesterday.”

She couldn’t argue with that. He’d chosen to stick with her every time he’d had the opportunity to bolt. He could so easily have left her at the hospital to drown in the horrible memories and her own anxiety.

She drew in a breath. Once he dropped her at James’, it would all be history, an entertaining story for their co-workers to tell: “Remember that time Bailey got stabbed and Cole ended up holding her hair while she hurled? That was hilarious!”
 

“I’m not mad,” she said. “I’m disappointed.”

He cocked his head. “In me?”

She lifted one shoulder in a slight shrug. “I know it’s probably not fair.”

“Damn right it’s not.”

“It’s not like you’ve been the personification of fair yourself,” she shot back. “You declared me guilty a long time ago. You just accepted what Daniel told you and decided to hate me without giving me the opportunity to defend myself.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Here’s an opportunity.”

The arrogance of his stance, the challenge in his eyes infuriated her. She hadn’t been truly angry before, but she was now. She pushed herself up, suppressing a grimace. “I’m ready to go.”

He stayed put. “I’m not.”

“I’m not going to do this now.”

“So I let you off the hook, what are you going to do? Avoid me until I give up and go away like you did with Daniel?”

She dug her nails into her palms. “He stayed away all by himself.”

“And what you did had nothing to do with that.”

“Look, I don’t even know what he told you, and it obviously wasn’t the truth, so it’s stupid for us to—”

“He told me you got rid of his baby without telling him first.”

All the blood seemed to drain out of her head in one rush. “What?” she asked faintly.

“He said you didn’t want the kid because of your career, so you got rid of it. Without telling him beforehand. I get that it’s your choice and all, but that was his kid, too.”

Bailey shifted back so that she could brace her hand on the woodwork that divided the dining and living rooms. As the reality of what Daniel had told Cole sank in, her shock turned to fury, which she managed to tamp down before it burst out of her. She could deny it for a hundred years, and as long as Daniel maintained the lie, Cole would never believe her. Why should he? She was nothing to him, and Daniel was his good friend whose photo he had on his wall.

“I want to go now.” She had to force strength into her voice.

“Of course you do. No one likes to be confronted with the awful truth.”

She stared at him in stunned silence as her anger returned with slamming force. Fine, if he wanted to go there. She jerked up the hem of her scrubs top. “See that scar?” She pointed at the puckered line of flesh he’d touched so tenderly the day before.

He glanced down at her exposed abdomen, his derision faltering.

“You don’t get a scar like that from an abortion,” she ground out. “Ask your buddy about it.”

Cole raised his gaze to hers, the color that had reddened his cheeks fading.

Lowering her shirt, she took a calming breath.
Swift, Bailey. Real swift. Let’s share our woes with the whole world, shall we?
 

Disgusted with herself for letting him goad her, she started to edge by him.
 

He grabbed her arms, and she flinched back. He released her, raising his hands and looking beyond frustrated. “Can you just wait?”

She leaned against the wall, as much for support as for the distance it put between them. “For what?”

“Will you tell me what happened?” No trace of his anger remained.
 

Oh, God. Sympathy was deadly when it came to maintaining her composure. “I don’t want to do this. I’ve already said too much.”

“I don’t think you’ve said nearly enough.”

“What difference does it make? You’ll just go back to Daniel, and he’ll tell you something completely different. I’d rather just drop it.”

“You’re the one who—”

“Who what? Brought it up? Then that means I get to be the one to decide when to let it go.”

“That’s not fair—”

“Fair?” She lost the struggle to keep her voice down. “I don’t need you to tell me what’s not fair.”

The pathetic way her final words cracked apparently did the trick, because he backed off and gestured toward the front door. “All right, all right. Let’s go.”

Chapter 10

“Bailey!”

Hearing the joy in her nephew’s voice, seeing it in his face when he saw her, lightened Bailey’s mood instantly. She was able to push back the lingering tension from the silent, uncomfortable ride over and the way Cole had insisted on carrying her bag. About halfway up the steps to her brother’s apartment, she’d been wondering why everyone in Kendall Falls lived on the bloody second floor. But then Austin whipped open the door.
 

“Hey, kid, what’re you doing up so early?” She took in his jeans and untucked T-shirt as she entered the living room. She’d expected him to be in his favorite SpongeBob pajamas.
 

He wrapped his little arms around her waist and squeezed. “I missed you last night,” he said against her midriff. “I thought we were going putt-putting.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” she said, stifling a wince as she kissed the top of his blond head. The physical discomfort of his tight hug was nothing compared with the peace that settled over her when she felt the six-year-old’s fingers dig into her back. Everything in her world that the past twenty-two hours had set adrift righted. “I got waylaid.”

“Yeah,” he said, peering up at her with his head back. “You’re definitely way late.”

She smiled into his wide, green eyes, so like her own and his father’s. So like his grandfather’s. She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “Can we go next week instead?”

“Sure.” He gazed up at Cole, who’d followed her in and set her bag inside the door. “Who’re you?”

Cole offered his hand. “Cole Goodman. You are?”

Austin shook Cole’s hand, as serious as a businessman about to seal the deal of his life. “Austin Chase.”

“Nice to meet you, Austin.”
 

Bailey glanced around the small, two-bedroom apartment that James and Austin had moved into only recently. Chaos ruled. An opened pizza box, containing two slices of congealed pizza, sat on the floor by the brown, faux leather recliner, along with two dirty dishes and an empty glass clouded with milk residue.

Several newspapers and magazines looked as if they had been shoved off the coffee table and onto the floor in front of the sofa, and the TV was on too loud. A cereal bowl with pink milk in the bottom sat in front of the TV, next to a Nintendo Wii. A recent, cranberry-colored stain marred the beige carpet in front of the couch.

Dread began to squeeze her chest as she spotted empty beer cans among the litter. James had been drinking around Austin. That contradicted everything her brother had accomplished in the past year. She’d never even heard him swear in front of his son.

Before she could deal with the mess or James or anything else, though, she decided she needed to rest a minute. Easing down onto the closest chair, she noticed her nephew watching her curiously, as if sensing something wasn’t right with her. Her stomach fluttered. He was so young, so innocent. The need to protect him nearly overwhelmed her.
 

She gave him a reassuring smile. “Where’s your dad?”

“In bed.” Leaning against her leg, he clasped her fingers in his. “Want to play the shoot ‘em up game? I got 300 points last night and hit all the tin cans all three times. It was so cool. Want to see?”

She brushed wisps of hair off his forehead. “What about the aliens? Did you get all of those?”

He puffed up with pride. “Yep. I saved everyone. And I got the last ducks, too.”

Cole chuckled. “You two are speaking in a language I don’t understand.”

Bailey looked up, startled that she had momentarily forgotten him. The way he was smiling at her almost made her fidget. “Oh, thanks for seeing me up, but I can take it from here.”
 

“Your hand is cold,” Austin said. “And why are you shivering? It’s hot out.”

She gently disengaged from his clinging fingers and patted his shoulder. “I’m fine, honey. Let’s say goodbye to Cole, okay?” She pushed to her feet, not moaning aloud taking every ounce of willpower she could muster. The three steps to the door were among the hardest she’d ever managed. All she wanted to do was curl into a fetal ball and whimper. First, she had to get rid of Cole. All she had to do was get the door open and push him out. “Thanks for—”

“I’m not going just yet,” Cole said.

Bailey’s breath hitched with alarm. “You don’t—”

“Don’t protest.” His voice was low so Austin couldn’t hear as he placed his hand at the small of her back.

She stiffened at the contact. “What are you doing?”
 

“I’m going to feed you, and then you’re going to take a pain pill. And when I’m satisfied that the shakes have gone, I’ll make like a tree and leave.” Flashing a grin at Austin, he said, “What’s for breakfast, big guy? Your Aunt Bailey’s famished.”

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