by Angie Martin
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said.
Her smile lingered despite the changing tone of her voice. “You know I never meant for this to happen with us. All I wanted was a cup of coffee.” It was a rare moment of truth for her.
He drew her head down on his shoulder, and kissed the top of her head. “That makes two of us.”
She closed her eyes, and he stroked the back of her head. Tension flowed from her body and the last remnants of the dream disappeared. For the first time in years, she felt protected.
Safe.
Rachel sensed him move, and she opened her eyes.
“You fell asleep,” he said.
“I did?” She sat up and rubbed the back of her neck. “What time is it?”
“A little after two.”
“I suppose I’d better go,” she said, with a yawn.
“Oh, no you don’t. You’re exhausted. There’s no way I’m letting you drive anywhere. You can sleep in my room and I’ll sleep out here on the couch.”
“I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re not imposing.” Mark stood in front of her and scooped her up.
She threw her arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to break my back.” He groaned and pretended to buckle under her weight.
She smacked his arm. “Now you’re being mean,” she said. She squirmed in his arms and giggled.
“Are you ticklish?”
“I guess,” she said. A soft, embarrassed laugh escaped her lips. “What’s wrong with that?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it, I just never thought of you as ticklish.” He maneuvered her through his bedroom door and laid her down on his bed. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he took off her shoes.
“This is what I call royal treatment,” she said. “Does a massage come with this package, too?”
He winked and rose from the bed. “It could.” He covered her with the blanket. Bending over, he kissed her forehead. “Goodnight, my lady.” At the doorway, he flipped off the light switch.
As soon as the darkness fell on her, the dread of being alone overcame her. Her stomach tightened, and she feared another panic attack. “Mark?” she whispered.
“Yes?”
“Please stay.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Wait a minute.” Greg stopped his work on the computer and looked at Mark in disbelief. “She slept in your bed right next to you, and you never once thought about sex?”
Mark wiped his hand across his desk, brushing away dust only he could see. “Strange, huh?”
“I’d say. Aliens have invaded and taken over my brother’s body.”
“Remind me which one of us is older.”
“You have to admit that everything about you has changed. You used to have a new fling every week.”
Mark frowned. “Not every week.”
“Close enough. You’ve been seeing Rachel for over two months, which is some kind of record, and now you’re telling me that you don’t want to sleep with her?”
Mark glanced at his watch, impatient to open the store and end this conversation. “I didn’t say I don’t want to, but I haven’t really thought about it. I’m content spending time with her. Sex isn’t always a necessity.”
“I think my heart stopped.”
Mark ignored him. “Last night, it felt so natural to have her there. It was like she’s always been there. Then this morning, I woke up and the first thing I saw was her face.”
“And?” Greg asked.
“What makes you think there’s anything else?”
“There is.”
“And all I could think was how much I want to wake up every morning and see her there.”
Greg grinned. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
“Are you going to start talking about aliens again?”
“It means you love her.”
The realization of his emotions washed over him, and he could no longer ignore what he felt every time he thought about her. “I know I do.”
“Have you told her?”
“Are you crazy? My stomach is in knots having this conversation with you. If I told her how I feel, she may say she doesn’t feel the same, or she may outright reject me. I don’t want to take the risk of losing her.”
“I’ve seen you two together a lot, and I can tell you she’s definitely in love with you, the same as you are with her. What makes you think she doesn’t love you?”
Mark’s smile faded and all his insecurities rushed in at once. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think she does. Other times, I feel like she’s not all there. It’s like she’s holding part of herself back from me.”
“What do you mean?”
Mark paused. He never considered telling anyone about his fears, but Greg might be able to shed some light on the subject. “It’s hard to explain because it’s nothing specific. It’s like she’s not always being honest or not telling the whole truth. Something about her doesn’t make sense. It sounds strange, but I feel like there’s something else to who she is.”
Greg creased his forehead and leaned back in the office chair. “Like she’s hiding something?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know what it could be or why she would think she has to hide something from me. If she has the same feelings for me that I do for her, then I don’t understand why she would do that to me.”
“What do you know about her?”
Mark shrugged. “She’s from California. Her parents died in a car accident when she was ten and she went to live with a foster family. She teaches self-defense at the shelter and lives off a trust fund her parents left her. She lives with Danielle, her best friend, and they came here from Indianapolis.”
“That’s it?”
Mark’s inability to think of any additional facts about Rachel unsettled him. “I thought I knew her better than that.”
“There’s more to knowing someone than factual data. You know her, but you don’t seem to know a lot of things about her life before she moved here.”
“It’s almost like she has no past.”
“Don’t get all mysterious on me. It sounds like you’re operating on suspicion, and nothing concrete. Have you ever asked her about her life? Like specific questions?”
“I guess not.”
Greg waved his hand. “There you go. You can’t expect to know everything about her if you’ve never asked.”
Mark couldn’t deny Greg’s logic. Rachel had answered every question Mark ever asked. If he didn’t know many facts about her life before she came to Wichita, it was his fault for not asking. He couldn’t expect her to offer up information about herself every time they saw each other. He needed to ask her some questions to fill in the gaps.
“When are you seeing her again?” Greg asked.
“She’s coming over for dinner tonight. Speaking of which, you don’t mind if I leave for a few hours around lunch, do you? I’ll come back later this afternoon, but I want to get a head start on dinner.”
“Depends. What are you making for dinner?”
“I thought about a simple lasagna.”
“Nothing about your lasagna is simple. Can I have your leftovers?”
“No!”
“You know how much Anna loves your lasagna. It is imperative at this stage of the pregnancy that I keep her happy at all times.”
“Is she getting bad?” Mark asked.
“The mood swings and cravings are killing me. She asked me to go to the store at four o’clock this morning to get her coleslaw.”
“What’s so strange about coleslaw?”
“It’s what she did to it when I brought it home. Ketchup and mustard all over it. Then she went into the bathroom and threw it all up. I wish pregnancy lasted nine days, not nine months.”
“I’m sure she feels the same way,” Mark said. “Tell you what. I’ll make a second lasagna to keep you out of the doghouse for a couple of days.”
“In that case, you can
take as long of a lunch break as you want.”
Chapter Nineteen
“Did you sleep with him?” Danielle asked.
Rachel sat cross-legged on Danielle’s bed, while Danielle tore through the clothes hanging in her closet in search of something to wear. Danielle had bombarded her with questions in the ten minutes she had been home from work, and Rachel wasn’t sure how to respond to them anymore.
“I take it that’s a no,” Danielle said when Rachel didn’t answer. “Do you want to sleep with him?”
“Am I supposed to answer that?”
“Come on. You stayed at his house last night. What am I supposed to think?” She tossed a red tank top on the floor behind her and resumed her search.
Rachel leaned over the edge of the bed and picked up the shirt. She folded it and laid it next to her on the bed. “You’re not supposed to think. It’s my life.”
“Why are you so upset about this? Isn’t it what you’ve always wanted? To live a normal life and to be a real girl?”
Danielle managed to strike the one nerve in Rachel that always made her jump. There was nothing Rachel wanted more than normalcy, but she didn’t know how she could have it in the midst of all the chaos. “You know it is,” Rachel said.
“Then go for it.”
“And what? Forget the past? Ignore who I am?”
Danielle turned around, holding a pair of black pants in her hands. “What do you mean? You’re Rachel Thomas. You know, the girl who gets anxious every time her boyfriend Mark comes around.”
Rachel frowned. “Will you stop with all the boyfriend stuff? You know what I’m talking about. Why do you care about it so much anyway?”
“Because you’re my best friend, and I want you to live a little.”
“I am living.”
“No, I’m living,” Danielle said. She slipped off her denim shorts and stepped into the pants. “I’m not sitting around in a little glove compartment shutting everyone out like you are. I’m enjoying life and making the most of it, like you told me I should. Maybe you ought to take your own advice. You’re not living. You’re surviving.”
“And survival is all I’m concerned about. I don’t like complications.”
“Is that what Mark is? A complication?”
“Yes, and I’m going to take care of it,” Rachel said. She had been thinking about the idea ever since she woke up in his bed that morning. There were no other options but to push Mark out of her life right away. Being careless and naïve any longer could prove disastrous.
“Take care of it?” Danielle asked. She grabbed the red shirt off the bed and pulled it over her head. “You mean you’re going to tell him it’s over.”
“That’s what I mean. After tonight, Mark will no longer be a part of my life.”
“Like that will ever happen,” Danielle said. “Can we bet on this, too? I sure could use another twenty dollars.”
“It has to happen, Danielle. I can’t afford to live in this fantasy world. I’m losing track of what’s important.”
Danielle stopped primping her hair in the full-length mirror and studied Rachel. “You’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you?”
“It scares me, Danielle. I have no control over this. When I’m with him, I forget about everything else. It’s like my life didn’t begin until I met him.”
“Oh.” A smile formed on Danielle’s lips. “You’re in love with him.”
Rachel’s frown deepened. She followed Danielle out of the bedroom and toward the front door. “I’m not in love with him. There’s no such thing as love.”
“There’s the cynical girl I know.”
“A greeting card company invented love to make money.”
Danielle paused, her hand on the doorknob. “It looks like they’ve succeeded in creating meaningless, false feelings in yet another sucker.”
“I’m not in love with him and I’m going to prove it to you,” she said.
“Who are you trying to convince?”
Rachel pursed her lips and crossed her arms.
“Would you like me to drop you off at his house or are you taking your car?”
“Mark is working at the bookstore, so I thought I’d walk over there.”
Danielle touched Rachel’s arm. “You need to stop trying to control your life. It’s okay to allow yourself to live and love again.” She went out the front door, leaving Rachel alone with her thoughts.
Chapter Twenty
Rachel pulled open the front door to the bookstore and a loud bell rang out, announcing her entrance. From behind the cash register, Sarah informed her Mark was in the office with James. Rachel thanked her and headed toward the back of the store. On her way through the store, she waved to Greg, who was helping a customer.
In the office, Mark and James leaned against the desk, fixated on a television that rested on top of the file cabinet. “Anything good on TV?” Rachel asked.
Mark turned to her and smiled. “James wanted me to watch the news with him.” He gave her a quick kiss. “I could have picked you up.”
“It’s okay, the walk always does me good. Since when do you watch the news, James?” she asked.
“I watch it every night. I brought in this old TV so Mark could watch it with me while he was waiting for you.”
Rachel made it a habit to not watch the grim tales on the news. She’d had so much of that in her own life that watching the sorrows of others was too much for her. “What’s so special about tonight’s newscast?” she asked.
“Senator Cal Robbins gave a speech in Kansas City today and they’re going to show some coverage of it,” Mark said.
“He’s a senator from California, running for President,” James said. “He’s been in office for quite some time now. You’ve probably heard of him, Rach, since you’re from there.”
“I have heard of him,” Rachel said. “He’s the only politician I know about.”
“Here it is,” James said. He used the remote control to raise the volume.
A picture of Senator Robbins popped up in the top corner of the screen next to a polished anchorwoman. “This morning, Senator Cal Robbins visited Kansas City on his Midwest tour,” she said. “We take you there now, live, with Neil Crawford of our affiliate station.”
A young man in a pressed suit appeared on the screen. He clutched a microphone as if his life depended on it. With perfect posture and his best anchorman smile, he stood in front of a makeshift stage covered with red, white, and blue campaign banners.
“Thanks, Susie,” he said into the microphone. “Behind me is the stage where Senator Cal Robbins stood this morning and gave one of the most memorable and passionate speeches of his tour to date. Kansas City is one of the many stops he is making on his tour through the Midwest, and his supporters turned out in droves. This outdoor venue was so overrun with those who came to watch the Senator, many people had to be turned away due to lack of space.
“Senator Robbins is already a forerunner in the race for the White House, and the turnout this morning lends credence to the overwhelming support Senator Robbins has received since announcing his candidacy.”
Rachel wondered how much longer the newscaster would speak. She wanted to rush to the television, turn it off, and drag Mark far away from any media outlet, but she knew her actions would be called into question.
“Though many topics are hot in this election,” the newscaster continued, “Senator Robbins focused on crime prevention and the need for stricter sentences for convicted criminals, as many expected. Today marks the third anniversary of one of the highest profile murders in the last several decades. Emotions ran high and tears were shed as Senator Robbins recalled the unsolved murder of his close associate and dear friend.”
Rachel leaned back on the desk and her fingers brushed against the desk organizer. She glanced at Mark and James, who were intent on the television. Her hand swept across the desk behind her and connected with her intended target.
“Three years ago today
, Jona—”
Crash.
Mark jumped off the desk and James turned around. Rachel looked down at the desk organizer on the floor. Pens and pencils rolled away from the impact site, while paperclips jumped across the tiles.
“I am so sorry,” Rachel said. She crouched on the ground and collected paperclips. “I can’t believe I did that, considering how OCD you are about everything being clean.”
“Don’t worry about it for a second.” Mark knelt beside her to help clean up. “Are you okay?”
“I think so. I just moved my arm and the caddy went flying. It must have been right on the edge of the desk.” Rachel hoped Mark bought her excuses and didn’t think she was over-explaining. She glanced up at the television. The anchorwoman had moved onto a new story. “I’m such a klutz today,” she said.
“Quit worrying. It was an accident,” Mark said.
James picked up a pen by the sole of his shoe and wiped the end of it on his jeans. “Maybe they’ll repeat the report later. I want to hear more about the guy that got killed.” He shoved the end of the pen in his mouth and chewed.
“I’m sure they will since it’s such big news,” Mark said. “I remember when that happened. It was all over the news back then. Very tragic. What was his name?”
James shrugged. “I know his name, but I can’t seem to remember it right now. He was some big wig in home security. That was messed up because he was killed while he was at home. Imagine that, a security guru being murdered in his own house.” James sucked in his breath and his eyes grew wide. “Unless the person that killed him was someone he knew. That makes it even worse.”
“His name was Tom something, wasn’t it?” Mark asked.
Rachel returned the organizer to the desk, replacing the last of the pens.
“No,” James said, “It began with a ‘J’, like Jerry or Joseph.”
Rachel couldn’t let the conversation continue in the direction it was heading. “I didn’t realize you were so into politics, James,” she said.
“James has always been into politics,” Mark said. “He knows every President and Vice President we’ve ever had. He knows all about everyone in Congress. He even knows who’s who on the local school boards.”