Sweet Tomorrows (19 page)

“I wish you'd left when I asked you to,” he murmured, more gruffly than he intended.

When she bit into her lower lip she caught his attention. He saw tears marking her cheeks. Unable to stop himself, he captured her face between his hands. He'd promised never to kiss her again, but what he saw in her in that moment was more than he could resist. He seized her mouth in a deep kiss, claimed it in a way that spoke of hunger and desperate need. She put up a token resistance before she welcomed his arms and wrapped her own around his torso. He couldn't get enough of her, the taste, the warmth, the feel of her.

When she broke away, pushing against his shoulders, it was all he could do not to fight to keep her in his arms.

“Nick, no, this can't happen.”

All the fight had gone out of him. He hung his head. “I'm sorry.” Already he'd broken his word. Already he was using her in ways he promised himself he never would.

She scooted back from him and wiped the back of her hand against her mouth. “You asked me to be your friend.”

“I know…it won't happen again. I swear it, Em. Please. I'm sorry.”

She shook her head. “I…don't think I should come to the house again.”

“No,” he protested. “Please.” She had no idea how much it cost him to beg.

“I can't have you kissing me.”

“It won't happen again.”

“You said that before.”

“I know…” He did his best to compose himself. “You need to do what's best for you. I'm sorry, Em. Truly sorry. If you don't want anything more to do with me, I'll accept that.”

After what felt like several minutes but was only a few seconds, she stood, returned to the kitchen, gathered her things, and left.

Nick heard the screen door slam closed and buried his face in his hands. He had no one to blame but himself.

I'd spent every available minute at the hospital. At first the nurses would allow me at Mark's bedside for only five minutes at a time. Then one of the doctors noticed how Mark's heart rate and blood pressure improved when I was in the room. He changed the orders so that I could be with Mark as often as I wanted.

I wanted every minute with him, conscious or not.

One would think I'd grow restless and bored sitting at Mark's bedside, but I didn't. I knew my presence made a difference. He remained in critical condition, but I didn't need the medical staff to tell me he was improving. While he remained unconscious I could sense he was slowly coming out of it. He moved his fingers a couple times, jerking motions that seemed involuntary, but I couldn't be sure. Once I saw his eyelashes flutter as if he were trying to open his eyes. I reported both incidents to the staff and it was noted.

Sitting at his bedside now, I read to him, believing with all my heart that Mark could hear me. It was a book by Vince Flynn, an author we'd both enjoyed in the past. Once we discovered that we often read the same books, it'd become our habit to discuss them and the authors.

After about an hour of reading my voice grew tired and my throat was dry. I went in search of water. When I returned to Mark's cubicle, I sensed right away that something was different. It didn't take long to realize Mark's eyes were open.

A smile burst over my face. I grabbed hold of his hand and kissed it. “Hey,” I said, tears clouding my eyes. “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

He attempted a smile, although he was too weak to fully manage it.

“I need to go tell the staff. I'll be right back.”

He twisted his head, indicating he didn't want me to go.

“Okay, I'll stay right here. I've been here awhile, you know.”

I read the question in his eyes.

“You were in the States before anyone let me know. Someone's going to answer for that,” I said heatedly.

He blinked and again with the weak half-smile.

“I know, I know we're not related and there was no legal obligations for anyone to keep me informed. You should also know I'm not accepting that as an excuse.” By the time I finished my short tirade Mark's eyes were closed and his hand was slack in my own. He was out again and I could only assume he was asleep.

When I updated the nurse that Mark had opened his eyes, I could tell from her expression that this was the breakthrough they'd been waiting for.

Later that afternoon he woke again. Right away he turned his head as if looking for me. I was there; I would always be there for him.

Almost as if I was reading his mind, I reached for the water glass and placed the straw in his mouth. He took a short drink and managed a real smile this time.

“I hope you know you're probably the most stubborn man I've ever met in my life.”

He grinned.

He knew and it was his stubbornness that had kept him alive. I wasn't about to complain.

He frowned as if he had a question.

“You want to know how I'm able to be here? You're wondering about the inn?”

He blinked, letting me know I'd guessed correctly.

“It appears you weren't listening. I explained all that some time ago. No worries, I'll tell you again. I have a boarder, Emily Gaffney. She moved into the area and is looking to buy a home. She's a kindergarten teacher; you'll like her. Our agreement was for her to rent a room over the summer. Recently she found an apartment and planned on moving out soon, but I've asked her to stay on. Emily's been a big help. She's taken charge of running the inn so I can be here with you.”

Mark closed his eyes, exhausted once again.

“Sleep, my love,” I whispered, and bending down, I kissed his forehead.

Mark grinned as if my kiss was what he'd been needing all along.

In the next two days, Mark woke intermittently and for longer periods of time. It wasn't until the third day that he was able to speak.

His first word to me was “Hey.”

“Hey yourself,” I whispered, swallowing past the lump in my throat.

“You're beautiful.”

“Yeah, yeah. I hope you don't have it in your head that flattery is going to soften the lecture I plan to give you.”

His eyes brightened with amusement.

“You have no idea what you've put me through.”

“I bet you're dying to tell me.”

This was the most he'd said to me at one time. “Give the man a prize,” I teased.

Bob Beldon arrived a few minutes later. He stood just outside the doorway, and when I saw him, he glanced toward Mark.

“He's awake,” I told our friend, relieved and in high spirits.

Bob frowned. “Can I come into the room? The staff was pretty adamant that I could only stay a short amount of time.”

“Five minutes.” By this point I knew the routine well.

“Mark's awake?”

I shook my head. “Not at the moment; he drifts off easily, but it's only for a short while. Want me to come get you the next time he's awake?”

“Please. I'll be just down the hall.”

I was all too familiar with the waiting area. “Sure thing.”

Mark woke about ten minutes later, and I collected Bob and stood in the doorway during the visit.

“Hey, Buddy,” Bob said, stepping up to the hospital bed.

“Hey,” Mark returned. He rolled his head to be sure I was close by.

I waved, letting him know I was on the other side of the doorway. Only one person was allowed inside the cubicle at a time. I was fudging, standing in the opening, but by this time the staff knew me well. I didn't expect anyone to insist I move.

“Guess you know you look like sh…” Bob didn't need to say the word for Mark to get the message.

“No doubt.”

Bob was wrong. As far as I was concerned, Mark was beautiful. That might sound odd. Men aren't normally referred to in those terms, but I couldn't think of any other way to describe how I saw him. He was alive. True, he looked like death, which he'd narrowly cheated, but none of that mattered. Not to me.

Bob stayed for only the allotted five minutes. When he left, he indicated he wanted to talk to me outside the room.

I looked at Mark, meeting his gaze, and said, “I'll be back in a few minutes.”

“Okay.”

When I joined Bob in the waiting area, which thankfully was empty, the first thing I noticed was his frown.

“You wanted to talk to me?” I asked.

Bob stuffed his hands in his pants pockets. “How are you doing?”

“Good. Thankfully, Emily is available to look after the inn.”

He kept his head down, studying the pattern on the rug as if a secret code was implanted in the design. “What about your…friend?”

Greg.

“What about him?” I asked, bristling and struggling to hide it.

“Does he know about Mark?”

“He does, not that it's any of your business.”

Bob exhaled and offered a knowing smile. “So Peggy keeps telling me. I'm worried, Jo Marie. I realize I'm talking out of turn here. I hope you'll let me say what's on my mind without taking offense.”

I crossed my arms and nodded. Both Bob and Peggy were good friends and I didn't want to damage that friendship.

“Mark loves you…”

“I know that,” I said, cutting him off. I was well aware of how much Mark cared for me. His decision to return to Iraq had a dual purpose. He felt responsible for Ibrahim and the other man's family. But he'd also walked into the fire of hate and war because of me…for me. In his own words Mark said he needed to be worthy of me and he never would be as long as he carried the guilt of Ibrahim's fate.

“He went to hell and back for you.”

“I'm well aware of that, too.”

“If he finds out there's another man in your life, it might kill him.”

“Listen, Bob,” I said, packing a lot of meaning into my words, “I appreciate your concern, but I make my own decisions. Mark is the one who told me he wouldn't return and that I should get on with my life. He specifically said he didn't want me pining away for him and I did my best. You know better than anyone what this last year has been like for me.”

His face tightened and he nodded. “It was hard on you.”

“You think?”

“Okay, okay, you're right. Peggy's right. I'm out of line; still I felt I needed to have my say. Whatever happens is your business. Just know that Peggy and I will always remain your friends, no matter what you decide.”

I exhaled and nodded. “I appreciate that.”

Bob stared hard at me for a long moment. “Be gentle with him, okay?”

He should already know I would. “I will, no worries.”

Bob left then. I watched him walk down the corridor and disappear behind the mechanical doors before I returned to Mark's cubicle.

He frowned when he saw me, and for one wild second I was afraid he might have overheard our conversation, although that wasn't possible. The waiting room was at the far end of the hall. Even Superman didn't have hearing that good.

“What was that about?” Mark asked.

“Bob had a few concerns he wanted to discuss.”

“About?”

“Things. Nothing that need worry you.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” I softened my words with a gentle smile. “All I need you to do is get well so I can take you back to the inn.”

His eyes widened.

“Yes, you're staying with me. It's already arranged.” With his house sold, Mark had nowhere else to go. He was family to me and his home was with me until he was well enough for us to decide where our relationship was headed.

An immediate sense of guilt came over me. I hadn't been dating Greg long, but the time we'd shared had been intense. I cared for him, too. Most important, I didn't want to mislead or hurt him.

We'd been in touch and he knew Mark was alive and in critical condition. Greg accepted that I was currently spending every available minute with Mark and wasn't able to connect with him as we had earlier in our relationship.

I also knew Greg didn't like it. He'd made several attempts to get in touch with me. At the end of my stay at the hospital, my voice mail was full of messages from him. If Bob had said anything of substance, it was that I needed to be square with both Mark and Greg.

The afternoon sped past and I left Mark for the night around nine-thirty, dreading the long drive back to Cedar Cove. Before I pulled out of the hospital parking complex, I turned on my cell and noticed Greg had sent me a text message. It was simple and direct.

Call me.

Sitting in my vehicle, I pushed the button on my cell that would connect us. He answered right away, as if he was sitting with his phone in his hand.

“It's me,” I said.

“I know.” His voice was low and devoid of emotion. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You don't sound it.”

“I'm tired is all.”

“How long were you at the hospital today?”

I didn't remember. The hours seemed to run together. “Awhile.”

“All day and half the night?”

“Something like that.” No need to go over the details.

“Is he awake more of the time yet?”

“Pretty much, but he sleeps a lot, too. A little at a time. He's able to talk now.”

“He'll recover?”

I wasn't sure how best to answer. The experiences Mark had lived through, the agony he'd suffered, couldn't help but change him. It'd changed me just knowing the danger he'd been in. “Physically, it looks promising. Mentally…I don't know. I don't think either of us can imagine everything he's been through.”

The line went quiet. “Probably not.”

I knew this was a difficult time for Greg. It was hard on me, too.

“Miss you,” he whispered, almost as if he was afraid to say the words out loud. As if I wouldn't welcome hearing them.