Hearts Awakened (20 page)

Sucking in a trembling breath, she firmed her lips and he could feel the control she was trying to exert over her emotions. He hooked his thumbs in his gun belt, cast a glance across the parking lot and then focused on her again. “Coffee, huh?”

She nodded, a spark of hope lighting her eyes. Her fingers shaking with fine tremors, she held out her keys. “Would you drive?”

He stared at the little pink flamingo dangling from the key ring and slowly shook his head. “No, I think you need to be in the driver’s seat. Starting tonight.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t look at her, his gaze trained on the neon sign casting a blue and pink glow on the sidewalk. Her anxiety deepened. She hadn’t thought this would be easy, but hope had sprung to life strong and true when he’d given in to her desire to talk. Now a wall lay between them, as surely as it had when they’d been in separate hotel rooms in Florida.

She passed the tip of her tongue over her upper lip. “Mark—”

“Come on.” He touched her hand briefly. “Let’s go get comfortable.”

If anything, her apprehension kicked up a level. He pushed the door open and came around to open hers, while she sat mired in a thick web of unease and fretfulness. He didn’t touch her again as they walked across the sidewalk and entered the coffee shop. Inside, a small group of high school students sat on plush sofas, sipping lattes and cappuccinos while studying. At the counter, Mark ordered plain coffee and Tori asked for peppermint tea she was positive she wouldn’t drink.

His gray gaze scanned the high-ceilinged room. “Where do you want to sit?”

Clutching the pasteboard cup, she nodded toward the far corner where a pair of armchairs and a low table created a cozy retreat and an air of privacy. “How about there?”

He let her precede him and she perched on the chair closest to the plate glass windows that looked out over the street. He was quiet a moment, rubbing the pad of his thumb around and around the rim of his cup, staring into the dark liquid as if it held the answers to life’s puzzles.

Finally, he lifted his head. “Hell, Tori, I want you.”

The breath whooshed from her lungs. Thank the good Lord she hadn’t taken a sip of tea yet, or it would be spewed all over the glass-topped table.

Self-deprecation twisted his mouth. “I don’t mean just sexually. I care about you and I want you as part of my life.”

She held the breath she’d managed to suck in. Knowing how long he’d avoided having a woman as an integral part of his life, she couldn’t ask for much more than his quiet statement. She swallowed and smoothed her hair from her face with a finger. “I want that too.”

“But I’m not sure I can live with the yo-yo that comes with you right now.”

“So you’re saying it’s over?” The words emerged shaky and on the verge of breaking. Her stomach folded in on itself. And what did he mean—the yo-yo that came with her?

He leaned forward, his gaze steady and serious on hers. “I’m saying I don’t see how we can make a successful future until you take control of your life.”

“What?” Fury danced through her. “I’ll have you know I
am
in control. I run that darn center. I live on my own. How dare you say I’m not in control?”

He didn’t respond, lifting his coffee for a long sip, yet never taking his eyes off hers.

Tori set her tea aside. Her fingers shook with the virulent anger coursing through her body. “If this is about me breaking up with you, I told you—I wasn’t thinking straight. Surely you can understand that? And I resent the implication that I let Tick run my life—”

“Tori.” With a deliberate motion, he placed his cup next to hers.

“How can you make this kind of an ultimatum? Because basically it sounds like you want me to cut him out of my life and—”

“Tori. Hush.” He fastened a hand, palm warmed by the heat of his coffee, around her nape and tugged her toward him. His lips covered hers, effectively stopping any further protest with a soft, barely-there kiss. He pulled back, eyes level with hers and so close she could see the flecks of silver in the darker slate of his irises. He rested his other hand on her knee. “Will you listen to me, please?”

Mouth pursed, she nodded.

“Honey, I am not questioning how strong you are. And I never said you let Tick run your life.” His lashes fell, a curse escaping his lips. “I’m completely messing this up.” On a rough sigh, he opened his eyes. “All right. Two and a half years ago, when I left Dougherty County’s PD and came to work for the sheriff’s department, there was this day… I was unpacking my stuff and you walked in with Tick. You were mad as hell at him and—”

“Ethan Moore had asked me out and Tick warned him off.” The memory sparked in her mind, clicking into focus like an old home movie. She’d been furious at her brother’s high-handed overprotection and had been halfway into a harangue telling him so before they’d noticed Mark’s presence.

“I remember.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “You didn’t hesitate to tell him that he wasn’t going to dictate who you did or did not date—”

“Mark, he’s sick. I can’t just—”

“Tori, let me finish. That day…I hadn’t seen you in a while before that, but it was obvious you were…better. Stronger. Healing. Anybody could see you were going to be okay.”

She reached for her tea and buried her nose in the fragrant steam. She had an idea of where this was going and so didn’t want to turn in that direction.

“I was, um, interested then.” His quiet, steady declaration fell between them and she sputtered on a sip of tea, managing to choke down the warm liquid rather than send it over the glass table. He didn’t look away, his gaze open and serious. “I wasn’t used to being interested in any woman the way I was in you. I used every excuse in the book to make myself stay away—Tick, the difference in our ages, your past, my past, the fact you were oblivious to my existence. Then Stanton and Tick hired Jeff Schaefer. You started dating him and I had him to use as an excuse as well.”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” She shrank back, withdrawing into the chair with her cup, removing herself as far as she could. A shudder raked over her.

“I don’t blame you.” He didn’t lean toward her, but neither did he pull away. “But I think we need to, don’t you?”

“No.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What does he have to do with anything? What does he have to do with us? Lord, would you want to take out your biggest mistake and dissect it?”

“I already have.” He didn’t back down from her animosity. “First, in that hotel room with you and then all this week, with Chris, going over every little detail of Jenny’s disappearance, of how I failed to keep her safe. I’m facing the past and putting it in perspective. You have to do the same.”

“This is ridiculous.” She unfolded from the plush chair, almost tripping over her feet in her haste. “I’m going home. You can walk to the station from here, right?”

Pushing the door open, she stepped into the cool night, dragging in deep breaths of damp air. Residual anger and shame pumped through her body and she grabbed onto the fury like a life preserver. Where did he get off, anyway?

“Tori, stop.”

She ignored his voice behind her. “I told you, I’ve had enough. I’m going home.”

Warm fingers closed about her wrist and pulled her around to face him. “We’re not finished.”

“Let go of me.” She tugged against his hold. “Now.”

“Tor—”

“I said let go.”

“Do you think I’d hurt you?” Their words tumbled over one another. He didn’t give way as she tried to yank her wrist from his easy grasp. Instead he used the leverage to haul her toward him, his gaze steady on hers. “Do you honestly think I’d hurt you?”

She stilled, staring into those sharp gray eyes. “I know you wouldn’t.”

“The fear standing between us…it doesn’t have anything to do with the rape, does it?”

“I don’t know what—”

“Tori, don’t lie, to either of us. The anxiety when we’re together intimately, that comes from the rape. I get that. But the other fear, the reason you dumped me last week…that has everything to do with Jeff Schaefer and your fear of making another mistake in judging a man. That’s the fear driving you, letting you hide behind Tick, and until you come to grips with it, I don’t see how we can go anywhere. I’ll always be waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“So this is an ultimatum.” She blinked against a wave of scalding tears. “Pick apart the fact I dated a murderer and my brother was right about him all along, or lose you.”

“No.” He shook his head, sadness invading his eyes. “No ultimatum. Simply the reality that until you can face what happened with Schaefer, you’re never going to let yourself have me, not really. You’ll always be pulling back, wondering if you really know me, if what we have is real.”

She closed her eyes, sucking back the urge to bawl, holding in the burning tears. If her life depended on it, she couldn’t have gotten words past the lump holding her throat hostage. He released her wrist and closed his arms around her.

“I don’t know if I can.” The words hurt her throat. She pressed her face into his shoulder, shutting out everything. Face the past. Face the fear. Face how utterly, absolutely
wrong
she’d been about the last man she’d thought might hold the key to her future.

“Yes, you can. I know it. Because you deserve better,” he whispered next to her ear. “We deserve better.” He stroked a palm down her spine. “And I’m not rushing you, Tor. However much time you need, I’ll wait for you.”

Smothering a yawn with one hand, Tori stepped out of the Miata. Her brothers’ SUVs sat behind Tick’s truck and Caitlin’s Volvo. A breeze ruffled the pine trees surrounding Tick’s home, and as she walked up the brick walkway to the back porch, the river murmured in its banks on the other side of the tree line. She took a deep breath of the moist air, trying to still the shaky sobs still wanting to be set free. Her eyes burned, a reminder of the tears she’d shed during the night.

Fighting off a wave of fresh melancholy, she let herself in the back door. The rich aroma of fresh coffee hung in the air and Tori sighed. Tick drank the stuff like it was the essence of life, but she’d never developed a taste for it, even loaded with sugar and cream. Lord, even the smell of coffee made her think of Mark.

And thinking about him brought her full circle, back to where she knew he was right and at the same time didn’t want to peek into the past.

The large room with its dining and living area was empty. Male voices drifted down the stairs, mingled with a hint of paint fumes. Tori dropped her keys on the kitchen island. As she approached the stairs, the door to Tick and Cait’s bedroom off the living room opened. Caitlin, dressed in black leggings and tunic sweater, emerged. “Good morning.”

“Hey.” Tori tucked her hands in her back pockets. “You look great.”

Moving toward the kitchen, Caitlin shot her a look. “Right.”

“You do. Still pale but good.” Tori returned to the island and perched on a stool. Caitlin pulled the milk from the refrigerator and held it aloft in silent inquiry. Tori shook her head. With a grimace, Caitlin eased onto the other stool, glass of milk in hand. Tori waved a hand toward the stairs. “What’s going on up there?”

“Del and Chuck are painting the nursery. Tick’s supervising.”

“Oh, that should be fun.” Sliding from the stool, Tori crossed to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottled water. “Do you guys want me to drive you to the hospital later?”

Caitlin sipped her milk. “Your mom offered, but we’d love to have you go with us. I bet he’s grown just in the couple of days since you’ve seen him. We’re hoping we can bring him home before Thanksgiving, but we think it will probably be closer to Christmas.”

“Sounds great.” Tori twisted the top off her water. Maybe spending time with her family would get her mind off last night’s conversation with Mark. Cringing, she remembered walking out on him then weeping in his arms. Why did this have to be so hard?

Except maybe it didn’t have to be. He’d said he’d wait for her, even after she’d hurt him. He seemed to be everything she needed—patient, tender, affectionate—and she was blowing it.

“H-ello, Victoria,” Caitlin said, a teasing note in her voice.

Tori glanced at her, frowning. “Sorry, I was thinking.”

Caitlin laughed. “Honey, that was obvious. What about?”

Tori’s breath strangled in her throat. Tears flooded her eyes, and she blinked them back. Caitlin reached out and covered Tori’s hand with her own. “Tori? What’s wrong?”

Her throat aching, Tori shook her head. She couldn’t catch her breath yet, all of the pain and disappointment centered in her chest. To her absolute horror, the tears spilled over, and a sob escaped her lips.

“Oh, Tori.” Caitlin put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Y-you didn’t.” Tori swallowed hard. “I just didn’t sleep well last night and I can’t get my mind straight today.”

With gentle fingers, Caitlin smoothed Tori’s hair behind her ears. “Is there anything I can do to help? Do you want to talk about it?”

The sobs were huge, gulping things now. Tori dashed tears from her cheeks, humiliation joining the hurt. “Nothing to talk about. I-I’m the one who made the mess and now I can’t figure out how to deal with it.”

“Okay, slow down and back up,” Caitlin said, still stroking Tori’s hair in a soothing motion. Concern laced her husky voice. “Tell me from the beginning. Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems.”

No, it was worse. Hopeless. Resting an elbow on the island, Tori covered her eyes and blew out a shaky breath. Tears continued to stream down her face and her nose was running. She reached for a paper towel and wiped her nose, sniffling.

“Last night… Last night I asked him for another chance. He s-said I needed to deal with the past before we could go forward.” The rough surface of the towel stung her nose, already raw from repeated blowing.

“Him? Another chance? You mean you’re dating?” Absolute delight colored Caitlin’s words. She covered Tori’s hand, squeezing. “So you’ve been seeing him for a while?”

“N-not really.” Tori’s breathing hitched in her throat. “We got closer when we were in Florida.”

“Florida…wait a minute. You’re dating Cookie? Oh, that is
wonderful
.”

“But I told him last week that I didn’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“But you obviously care for him. Why would you…last week?” Caitlin frowned. “Tori, does this have anything to do with Tick?”

“I—”

“Does what have anything to do with me?” At Tick’s deep drawl, still holding traces of pained discomfort, Tori closed her eyes. Oh Lord, could this get any worse? She didn’t want to get into this with him. Not now, with her emotions so close to the surface.

Clad in jeans, his T-shirt untucked, Tick crossed to the coffeemaker with the cautious movements of someone who’d learned sudden movements brought swift pain. A smudge of white paint highlighted one cheekbone.

Caitlin eyed the back of his head. “Have you been painting?”

He didn’t look up from filling his cup. “You told me not to.”

“That’s not an answer. Have you or have you not been painting?”

He sighed, a long-suffering sound. “I cut in one corner.” He ran a hand along his right side. “Believe me, I won’t do it again.”

“God, you’re so stubborn.” Caitlin clenched her hands together until her knuckles glowed white.

“Yeah, but you love me.” He took an appreciative sniff of coffee before sipping. He zeroed in on Tori’s face. “Have you been crying?”

“No.” Clutching her damp paper towel, Tori crossed her arms in a defensive gesture.

Caitlin glanced between them. “Tori was just telling me she informed Cookie last week she didn’t want to see him anymore.”

“Thank the good Lord for small favors,” Tick muttered, lifting his cup again. Tori glared at him. She’d done what he wanted, but did he have to be so damned obnoxious about it?

“Oh, that’s nice,” Caitlin said, eyes narrowed to glittering green slits. “He’s your friend and basically your partner—”

“And she’s my sister and he’s all wrong for her.”

“That’s interesting.” With a saccharine smile, Caitlin held her glass aloft. “That’s the exact statement my brother made about you.”

Tick choked on a mouthful of coffee. He reached for a napkin and brushed at his mouth. “He did not.”

“Whatever. He spent three days trying to talk me out of marrying you. Something about two control freaks not being able to live together.”

Tori blew her nose. At least his attention was off her for a moment. Frowning, Tick shrugged, a short, tight roll of his shoulders. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Really?” One of Caitlin’s perfect eyebrows winged upward. “Did you or did you not interfere in her relationship with him?”

With a disgusted snort, Tick threw out a hand. “What relationship? C’mon, Cait. Think about it. We’re talking about
Cookie
here. The guy’s only out for one thing—”

“That’s not true.” Tori straightened, clenching the paper towel in her fist. If he’d been out for sex alone, he’d have given up on her long ago. Instead, she was the one who’d given up on him, because of her stupid fears and insecurities. Tick had offered her the perfect excuse not to face the fear and she’d taken it. She was such a coward and she’d hurt Mark because of it. Shame burned her.

“Tori, you don’t know him like I do.” Tick’s voice gentled, but the patronization in his words sent anger racing through her. She wasn’t really sure which Mark he knew, but obviously, it wasn’t the man who’d kissed her, made her feel feminine and beautiful at a level she’d never experienced. The man who’d held her and told her he’d wait for her, as long as it took for her to trump her fears. The man who sent giddiness zinging through her every time she saw him. The man she’d fallen in love with.

She loved him. And she’d walked away, nearly ruined everything, because she hadn’t been able to believe in him beyond the disapproval of the man in front of her, the one who claimed he knew Mark better.

The brother who loved her and wanted what was best for her, the one who’d struggled with his own guilt at not protecting her first from Billy Reese’s brutality and later from Jeff Schaefer’s machinations. But also the brother who couldn’t see past his own fear for her, just as she hadn’t been able to see beyond her own awful mistake in judgment.

She could do that. She could face it, simply because she had to. Because Mark Cook deserved so much better than her fear.

She clutched the edge of the island, knuckles aching. “No, I think you don’t know him like I do.”

“Oh Lord, here we go.”

“Tick, sweet thing, shut up for once, would you?” True affection lightened the harshness of Caitlin’s words. She grinned at Tori, admiration glinting in her dark green gaze. “I’ve waited more than two years for her to stand up to you and take her life back.”

Staring at his wife, Tick laughed, a short disbelieving sound. “Cait.”

“Well, I have. She’s an adult, Tick.” Caitlin’s tone softened. “It’s time to let go.”

“And what if he is out for just one thing?” Tick lifted his chin, a familiar stubborn angle to Tori. “What then?”

“He’s not. But if he was, I’d deal. I’ve dealt with worse.”

Tick ran a hand through his hair and focused a pleading expression on her. “I just don’t want to see you—”

“Hurt. I know.” Tori swallowed. “I already am. I care about him, and since I walked away, the last week has been the worst of my life.” She fixed him with a pointed stare. “The
worst
. And do you really think, as much as he respects you, that he’d use me? Deliberately hurt me?”

Tick opened his mouth, closed it and exhaled sharply. “Are you sure? I mean, you’re sure this is what you want.”

“Absolutely.” Tori tried to smile, her mouth trembling. She was certain about what she wanted—Mark back in her life.

“So why do you still look like you’re going to bawl?” Tick set his empty coffee cup aside.

“Because I have to do something huge and it scares me spitless.” Tori ran a fingernail along the grout between the tiles. “I have to find a way to show him that the past doesn’t matter anymore.”

Caitlin’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Seduce him.”

Tick groaned. “Holy hell, Cait.”

She shot him a look before turning to Tori. “I didn’t mean literally. Entice him. Show him how important he is.”

“I’m going back upstairs,” Tick said. “My skin is crawling.”

“Don’t pick up a paintbrush,” Caitlin called after him.

He stopped at the head of the stairs. “And you can tell Cookie if he breaks your heart, I’m going to kick his ass.”

After he disappeared into the upstairs hallway, Tori slumped on the stool. “Cait, I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t know where to start!”

Caitlin wrapped her fingers around her half-full glass of milk. The early morning sunlight filtering in through the window sparkled off her wedding rings. “So you’re saying Cookie’s done all the seducing so far.”

Tori shrugged. Where was Caitlin going with this? “I guess.”

“Then think about what he’s done—what did he do to draw you closer?”

The memory of lying in his arms, his voice whispering of a sexy dream, suffused her. He’d enticed her with words, with what could be. Her face burned. She couldn’t do that. Could she?

“Getting an idea?” Caitlin slid from the stool and carried her tumbler to the sink. She added Tick’s empty cup.

Sure. An idea she couldn’t possibly follow through on. She could tell him what she wanted, a verbal seduction. Oh, she could just envision that—she’d freeze halfway into the first sentence and die of humiliation when he laughed.

He wouldn’t laugh at you, Victoria.

She had plenty of confidence and security in him. The problem lay within herself. So how did she go about fixing that?