Hearts Awakened (12 page)

Arms behind his head, Tick stared into the shadows. At the small of his back, the nagging soreness twisted and snarled despite the acetaminophen tablets he’d taken earlier. Knowing what it was, wondering what the rogue cells were doing, only made it worse.

You can’t do that if you’re dead.

He closed his eyes and released a harsh breath. He’d gone so far as to see a second specialist, one who’d insisted on more blood tests and an MRI, then made the same diagnosis as Dr. Gurley. He dragged a hand over his mouth, his fingers picking up the cold sweat beading above his upper lip.

Waiting wasn’t a smart option, unless he wanted to leave Caitlin in the same position his mother had been after his father’s death—raising their child alone.

Beside him, she shifted with a muffled sigh of discomfort. She’d been restless most of the night and he rolled to his side and propped on one elbow. Muted agony screamed across his back with the movement and he bit off a groan.

“Cait?” In the gray semidarkness, he brushed her hair from one cheek, attuned to her enough to know that she wasn’t sleeping. “You all right?”

“I feel odd.” A hint of irritability colored her voice. “Like he’s moved or something.”

He laid his palm against the lower swell of her belly. “Do you hurt?”

“No. Just pressure here.” She moved his hand to the top of her abdomen. “And I think he’s pushing his feet against my lungs.”

He waited, rubbing slow circles. “He’s moving, right?”

“Yes. Eight times in the last half hour.”

An unseen body part bumped against his hand, her stomach rising and falling. Beneath his touch, the muscles went tight. She sucked in a shallow inhale.

He stilled. “Has that been going on all night?”

“The last hour or so.”

Holy hell. Frowning, he sat up, turned on the light and grabbed his watch.

“What are you doing?” She blinked at him in the sudden brightness.

“That felt like a contraction. If they’re sporadic, they’re probably not the real thing. They get closer together or sharper in intensity and we’re going to the hospital.”

She laughed as he settled his palm on her belly once more. “And how do you know what a contraction feels like, Lamar Eugene?”

“Helping my papa deliver calves.”

“Calves?” She rolled her eyes, but he didn’t miss the trace of nervousness beneath the words. “Tick, I’m not in labor. It’s too—”

“Hush.” He made another small circle with his fingers. The baby nudged at him. On a deep inhale, he closed his eyes. “Cait, I need to tell you something.”

“Would this be the something that’s been making you edgy for two days?”

Damn, she knew him too well. “Yeah, that something.”

“How bad is it?”

“Pretty damn bad.”

Under his touch, he sensed her preparing. “Out with it, Tick, whatever it is.”

“My back? It’s not muscle pain.” He swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat. “It’s a tumor on my kidney. A cancerous tumor.”

Silence stretched and he opened his eyes to watch the rise and fall of her torso under his hand. The muscles tightened and he cast a quick glance at his watch. Four minutes. “Did that hurt? Was it stronger than the last one?”

“You have a tumor on your kidney, a
cancerous
tumor, that you’ve known about for two days?” Her husky voice trembled with a mixture of anger and fear. “You waited two days to tell me?”

“I got a second opinion, to make sure—”

“Is it treatable?” She was shaking, small palpable tremors moving through her body.

“Yeah, probably. Surgery to remove the tumor and see if it’s spread, chemo or radiation if it has—”

“Oh, my God. Men. You’re all so asinine.” She shook her head. “My grandfather won’t stick to his heart-healthy diet, my brother insists on climbing mountains alone, and you’ve waited
two days
to have surgery on what sounds like aggressive—”

“Cait, precious, don’t.” He leaned down to press his mouth to hers, picking up the saltiness of tears on her lips as he did so. “Calm down, please. It’ll be all right, I swear.”

“I am calm. And don’t make promises to me you can’t keep.” She folded her hand around his nape, short nails biting into his skin. “I am so damn angry with you, Tick. Once I have this baby, I’m going to kick your ass.”

She hissed in a breath and under his palm, pressure rippled over her abdomen. He lifted his head to check his watch. Three minutes, forty-five seconds. He caught her chin and brushed a quick kiss over her mouth. “You can bitch me out later and I fully intend to be around after you give birth, so you can kick my ass if it makes you feel better. But right now? Precious, I’m calling Dr. Astin and we’re going to the ER because I’m ninety-nine percent sure you’re in labor.”

He couldn’t move his arm. The fingers tingled with the pins and needles of a sleeping appendage. Trying to tug his arm free from the weight holding it down, Mark opened his eyes. Morning sunlight peeked in around the edges of the heavy drapes and highlighted the curve of Tori’s sleeping face. He stilled.

A decorous distance remained between them, but she’d rolled closer during the night, facing him. Her face smooth and peaceful, she slept with his arm beneath her neck. One hand curved around his biceps. He could get used to this, waking up with her beside him. He could, but he wasn’t going to. Letting himself get too attached wasn’t a good idea.

Male voices rumbled outside the room and a car door slammed. Tori frowned in her sleep, murmuring. Mark glanced at the clock on the dresser across the room. Fifteen minutes until their wake-up calls. If things were different, he’d kiss her awake and spend those minutes discovering the wonders of her body.

He wasn’t rushing. By some miracle, she wanted him in her life and he’d take things as slowly as she needed, be here as long as she wanted him. He didn’t hold the illusion that whatever this was between them would last. In her mind, he was someone safe, someone she could spread her wings with a little. She’d said he was the
first
man to make her feel. Somewhere out there was the guy who’d give her forever.

He closed his eyes, soaking in the sensation of having her close, her fingers on him. She shifted in a slow stretch, a tiny frown pulling her brows together. Her grasp on his arm tightened and she stiffened.

Not sure if waking up with him would frighten her, he touched her wrist, keeping the contact light. “Tori, it’s Mark. You’re with me, remember?”

Her eyelids flickered open, the brown depths drowsy. “Hey.”

Ignoring the desire pulsing to life in him, he brushed disheveled hair away from her face. “Hey yourself, gorgeous.”

“What time is it?” She smothered a yawn and pushed up to sit against the pillows. Grimacing, she clutched her foot. Brown spots of dried blood dotted the gauze. “My toes hurt like the devil.”

“Almost six. Let me take a look.” Sitting up, he reached for her ankle. When he unwound the bandage, she flinched. He grimaced. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re really gentle.” She touched his bare shoulder, and the simple contact shivered all the way to his toes. Every muscle in his abdomen contracted. “I’m just a baby about physical pain.”

He cleared his throat and kept his gaze trained on the injured toes. Her trim ankle and toned calf begged for him to wrap his palm around them and stroke upwards, and if he did that, he’d scare her to death. Ugly purple bruises colored two of her toes, slightly swollen, but the little gash had already started to heal. He eased a finger across the top of her foot.

“After you shower, we’ll bandage these up again.” He tried to block the images of water pouring over her, wet hair clinging to her back, face turned up for his kiss. Desire settled in him, low and heavy.

“It looks awful, doesn’t it?” She scooted closer, her bent knee brushing his arm. The warm scent of her filled the air around him, sucking up his oxygen supply. He stared at her bruises, struggling to ignore that if he turned his head, he’d be at eyelevel with firm breasts under a flimsy camisole. He closed his eyes, but the picture of him nuzzling her through the pink cotton before stripping it away didn’t disappear.

He swallowed a groan and opened his eyes. “It’ll be better in a couple of days.”

“I want it better now.” A pouting note entered her voice and she leaned forward to touch the gash. Her breast pressed into his arm and her hair feathered his skin. He clenched a handful of the sheet, anything to keep his hands off her. “I don’t even know if I brought shoes I can wear with them like that.”

“Tori, why don’t you go take a shower? We’ll worry about the shoes later.” His voice came out as strangled as he’d feared.

She touched his jaw. “What’s wrong?”

A shudder worked its way through him. She’d grown up with four brothers, and somewhere during all her college classes, there had to have been one on anatomy or physiology. With a deep breath, he looked at her. “It’s early in the morning, I’m incredibly attracted to you and we’re close enough that it’s driving me a little crazy. Okay?”

“Oh.” A flush colored her cheekbones and she flicked a glance at his lap. He felt the weight of that look like a physical touch, the sensation zinging over him. She met his gaze again, slender fingers covering her mouth. “Should I be sorry?”

He laughed, although it sounded a little strained. “No. Definitely not.”

Still wide-eyed, she nodded. A giggle erupted from her, bubbling around her fingers. He narrowed his eyes at her and she lowered her hand, grinning. The carefree expression transformed her face, chasing all the shadows from her eyes and the embarrassed color from her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I swear.” Sweet laughter laced the words. “I just had this flash of Tick’s face if he knew I was sitting in your bed, having this conversation with you.”

Yeah, Mark could picture that too. Talk about a desire killer. He rubbed a hand over his face. Being together here, where it was just the two of them, was one thing. Back home, the situation was bound to get sticky.

She giggled again, full of evil little-sister glee. “He would
die
.”

Mark stiffened. He could have gone all day without hearing that word connected in any way with Tick’s name. Oh, man. Already, the situation was taking on all the qualities of Super Glue. When she found out what he knew about her brother…

And that was only one of the issues. The other he meant to address here and now. He cleared his throat. “Look, Tori, if this whole thing with me is about getting back at Tick for being an overprotective ass, I don’t want any part of it.”

“Oh no.” She shook her head, all mirth gone. With a tentative smile, she laid a hand on his arm. “Not at all. I…I really like you, Mark. Please believe me, this is about us.”

He studied her for a long moment. She sounded sincere, and he knew her well enough to know she wasn’t a manipulative person. He nodded and allowed himself to touch her cheek. “Okay. Because I really like you too.”

Like. There was a hell of a weak word for the way he was beginning to feel about her. He was so in over his head already.

An impish grin lit her face. “But it’s okay if aggravating Tick by being with you is a fringe benefit, right?”

Aggravation wouldn’t be the word for it. When Tick learned about this, the guy would stroke out. Guilt prickled over Mark’s skin. Like Tick needed anything else going on in his life right now.

Mark stood. “We need to get moving. I’m going to—”

The simultaneous ringing of the phones in both rooms cut him off. A wake-up call. Mark shook his head. Bringing reality, in the form of Tori’s oldest brother and his best friend, into their little fantasy world was definitely one of those. Why had he thought this could ever work, even short term? He lifted the receiver from the base and let it fall again. “You’d better get yours. I’m going to hit the shower.”

He wouldn’t even need a cold one. All desire had drained out of him.

“All right. See you in a bit.” Tori slid from the bed and hobbled to her room. A minute later, the ringing stopped there as well. The sounds of her moving around, the rasp of her bag unzipping and water running in the sink, followed.

Mark crossed the room and closed the door between them.

Humming off-key, Tori twisted her hair into a loose knot. Suffused with a warm sense of well-being, she leaned forward to color her lips. Last night had been a big step forward, for both of them. Talking about his loss seemed to have loosened something inside Mark, made room for her in his life.

And she’d spent the night in his bed. She’d made a stand for herself, for them. She wanted to do a Rocky-style victory dance. Today, she was one step closer to normal.

Turning away from the mirror, she limped to the connecting door and tapped. “Mark?”

“Yeah.” His voice, muffled by the wood, sent a little thrill through her. He wanted her too and he was willing to wait for her. What more could she ask for?

“Do you mind bandaging my toe again?”

“Be right there.”

She sank onto the end of the bed to wait. Wrapping her arms over her midriff, she relived the sensation of waking to his strong arm under her, his deep voice in her ear. Happiness bubbled in her.

The door opened and he entered, carrying the small first aid kit. She drank in every detail of his appearance, from the starched dress shirt, the French blue turning his eyes to silver, to the bare feet below his charcoal slacks. His short, neat hair framed a freshly shaven face.

Oh, she so didn’t want to attend a day’s worth of conference workshops. She wanted to play hooky, spend the day with him, explore the possibilities opening before her.

He sat on the other bed and laid the kit beside him. “Give me your foot.”

She placed her heel in his hand, relishing the sensation of his touch. If he made her feel safe and cherished with such a simple caress, what would going further feel like? Maybe this whole intimacy and making-love thing wouldn’t be so hard after all. Maybe she’d just needed to wait for the right man.

He smoothed an antibiotic ointment over the cut and wrapped gauze around her toe. She watched his hands move, aware she was acting like a high school girl with a first crush. Next she’d be writing their names together all over her conference folders. At the thought, a smile tugged at her lips. So she was a little lovesick and smitten. Maybe she deserved it. Maybe he did too.

His touch gentle, he taped the gauze into place. “There you go.”

The matter-of-fact tone in his voice stopped her mental meanderings cold. He wasn’t looking at her, packing the gauze, ointment and tape back in the kit. She twisted her hands together in her lap. “Mark? Is everything all right?”

He flicked a glance her way. “Yeah. Why?”

“I don’t know.” She shook her head, the giddy self-confidence dimming a little. “You seemed a little…distant.”

A brief smile hitched the corners of his mouth but didn’t brighten his eyes any. “Just not looking forward to sitting through all those meetings today.”

She nodded, biting her lip. “We could do something afterwards, couldn’t we?”

The smile reappeared, more genuine this time. “Yeah, we could. No antiques, though. And I think climbing the lighthouse is out. How about a walk on the beach?” He glanced at her foot. “Or a movie if you’re not up to that.”

“The beach sounds great.” Was that breathless voice hers? Oh Lord, he’d think she was hopelessly infatuated. Think? She was.

“The beach it is, then.” He leaned forward to brush his mouth over hers in a quick, careful caress. “I’ve got to get my shoes on. And a tie.”

His mouth had tasted of mint toothpaste and she wanted to pull his lips back to hers. Quick had been good, though. She hadn’t had time to be afraid or nervous. “I need to finish up too.”

Kit in hand, he returned to his room. She sat a moment, hugging the warmth of his kiss to her. Finally, she dragged herself off the bed and put on chandelier earrings with amber stones. The most comfortable shoes she could find were a pair of low-heeled sandals she’d borrowed from Autry, with an adjustable strap across her toes.

She touched perfume to her wrists and throat. As she picked up her purse, her cell phone launched into song. She fished it out and glanced at the display. Her mother.

“Hello?”

“Tori, it’s Mama.” The strain in her mother’s voice, like she was near tears, sent a frisson of foreboding down Tori’s spine.

“Mama, you sound upset. What’s wrong?” Tori fumbled for the bed behind her and sank onto the end. Her strong mother sounding like this couldn’t be a good thing.

“I just got off the phone with Lamar,” Mama said and Tori closed her eyes, stomach dropping. Oh, Lord. Caitlin and the baby. “He’s at the hospital with Caitlin. She went into labor late last night, but they stopped that, gave her steroids to help the baby’s lungs mature just in case.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“She started bleeding a little while ago.”

“Oh, no,” Tori whispered, covering her mouth. They couldn’t lose this baby now, not after coming so far with this pregnancy. And Caitlin…she had to be all right too. Tick had waited so long for her, the right woman, to come into his life.

“I’m leaving now for the hospital, but I wanted you to know what was going on.” The hint of tears had receded and the steel was back.

“Mama? Do you want me to come home?” Now her own voice quivered, fearful thoughts and little prayers tumbling over in her mind.

“Honey, I can’t tell you what to do. This might turn out to be nothing. You do what you think is best, all right? I need to go now. Love you.”

“Love you too. Bye.” With the feeling she was slogging through mud, Tori pushed the
end
button. Do what she thought best? Stay here and sit through two more days of seminars or go home to be with her brother while his family hung in the balance. There was no question.

Clutching the phone, she jumped up. A surge of pain at her toes slowed her pace, but she hurried as much as she could to the other room. “Mark?”