Accidentally Yours

by Susan Mallery

  She wanted to shout her happiness. They had a reprieve. Pray God, it was enough.

  The phone rang. She stretched out her arm and grabbed it.

  “Hello?”

  “Kerri, it’s Nathan. I just had a call from Jason. Wallace is back in the lab and they’re ramping up to work at full capacity.”

  She nodded, still fighting tears.

  “Kerri? Are you there? This is good news.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you crying?” His voice was sharp. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m happy. He was just here. You did this. You made him start up his research again.”

  “As much as I would enjoy taking credit, it wasn’t me, and Jason had barely started to squeeze. He did this on his own. Maybe you got to him.”

  “Maybe. The truth is, I don’t care why. I just want a cure.”

  “I know.”

  She drew in a breath. “Sometimes it’s hard to keep going,” she said, voicing the thought for the first time. “Sometimes it seems like it’s just me and Cody against the world.”

  “You’re not alone. You have a whole team now.”

  Did she? She’d been carrying the burden herself for so long that it was difficult to imagine being in a place where she could set it down for a while.

  “Dr. Wallace is the best,” he continued. “He’ll find something.”

  “I know.”

  She believed, because she had to.

  “While I’m glad this got resolved,” Nathan said with a smile in his voice, “it puts me in a hell of a situation. I was all geared up to fight. I have to walk away without the thrill of victory.”

  She gave a strangled laugh, then wiped her cheeks. “You’ll get over it.”

  “I like going to battle.”

  “Of course you do. You like to win. To take, to pillage.”

  “I haven’t pillaged in a long time. I miss it.”

  She had the sudden thought they weren’t talking about battles anymore. She remembered how she’d felt the previous night, standing on the porch, in his arms.

  She’d forgotten what it felt like to be held by a man, kissed by a man. She’d forgotten what it felt like to want. Now that she remembered, she didn’t know how to make the need go away.

  But she would figure it out, she reminded herself. Nothing mattered but Cody—especially now that they were back on track.

  “I appreciate your letting me know about Dr. Wallace,” she said. “I’m relieved it all worked out.”

  “Me, too. You still owe me for prom night. You blew me off.”

  “I was busy, and I don’t owe you.”

  “Sure you do. You can come to Seattle and we’ll have lunch. I’ll show you the mock-ups for the towers I want to build. You can be impressed.”

  It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see him, it was that being around him made her feel uneasy. Nathan had gone from being a means to an end to something that might be dangerous.

  But he was right—she did owe him.

  “I’m off tomorrow.”

  “Tim will pick you up at ten-thirty.”

  “Tim and I are getting really close. It’s touching.”

  Nathan chuckled. “Thanks for letting me know. See you tomorrow.”

  “THAT WAS UNCOMFORTABLE,” Kerri muttered as they left the restaurant. “Did you see the manager glaring at me?”

  “He wasn’t glaring,” Nathan said. “He hid out in his office.”

  “Can you blame him? That was a hideously bad idea. I should never have let you talk me into going there.” She glanced up at Tim, who held open the back of the limo. “You’re smiling. You think this is funny.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Ma’am? You’re going to pay for that. I’m singing with the radio the whole way home.”

  As she had a voice that made cats howl in protest, she was threatening him with a lot. Tim winced, then stepped back to let Nathan into the car.

  “Don’t torture him,” Nathan told her. “I don’t want to lose him.”

  “I blame you both. I can’t believe we went to The Grill for lunch. I was fired from that restaurant.”

  “You said you were fine with the idea.”

  “Before we went there. I had no idea what I was getting into. Talk about humiliating.”

  Actually, she hadn’t minded eating in the fancy place. She’d never had much of a chance to taste the food during her brief employment. For reasons that weren’t clear, she felt nervous around Nathan. The babbling had started with the entrée and didn’t show any signs of stopping.

  She pressed her lips together in an effort to keep from talking, then said, “Are we going to your office now? We don’t have to. Tim could take me home.”

  “You should see the towers. You’re a part of them now.”

  “Not unless you plan to give me a two-bedroom condo. I’d prefer a water view, please. I don’t need an especially high floor. Something in the middle would be fine.”

  “Good to know.”

  He seemed perfectly relaxed, which she resented. Why couldn’t she relax? Why did she have to be aware of every little thing about him?

  Like now, in the car. They weren’t sitting all that close together on the leather seat, yet she could feel the heat from his body. She caught any movement he made, was aware of the tone of his voice, the rhythm of his breathing, the fact that he’d gotten his hair cut.

  If she didn’t keep her attention firmly on the conversation, she started to think about kissing him, touching him, having him touch her.

  When she got home, she was going to give herself a stern talking-to and maybe even think about punishment. She had to get herself mentally focused. If she allowed her energies to stray for even a second, Cody would suffer. She believed that as surely as she believed air was necessary for life.

  “Is your office bigger than Jason’s?” she asked.

  “You’re obsessed with my attorney.”

  “Not at all. He seems nice. It was a great office. Maybe I missed my calling. Maybe I should have gone into corporate America and had a great office with a view.”

  “It’s not too late.”

  It was for her, she thought. Nathan wanted to talk about her future, but until Cody was cured, he was all she cared about.

  They pulled up in front of a high-rise. Nathan led the way to the elevator then pushed the button for the top floor.

  “You’re going to be hating life if there’s ever a really big earthquake,” she told him. “Just remember that.”

  He smiled and escorted her into the elevator.

  An impressively smooth ride later, they exited on the executive floor of the King Investment Group. A receptionist sat behind a desk that was more tower than writing surface.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. King.”

  “Gypsy.”

  Kerri eyed the pretty brunette. “Gypsy? Seriously? That’s her name?”

  “It says so on her paycheck.”

  “Who does that to a child?”

  They passed lots of big offices filled with busy-looking people.

  “Not a lot of women on the executive floor,” she murmured.

  “Over thirty percent at senior levels. I don’t care about gender. I don’t care if they’re extraterrestrials. I want people who do a good job.”

  The desk in front of the double doors was empty. Nathan opened the door on the right, then stepped back to let her go first.

  Kerri braced herself to be impressed and walked into Nathan’s sanctuary.

  His office was about three times the size of her whole house. It was a corner space, with plate-glass windows. To the west was the sound, to the south, Safeco Field and beyond. The colors were muted, and the furniture looked expensive, with lots of wood. The sofa area in the corner would seat at least eight people; the conference table had room for twelve.

  “It looks just like our break room at the Hair Barn,” she said with a grin. “Except we have more phones.”

  He i
gnored her and crossed to a freestanding easel. After flipping over the top sheet, he stepped back. “What do you think?”

  The architectural rendering showed two staggered towers in a garden setting. There were huge windows, balconies, and what looked like a park on each roof.

  They were large, imposing and beautiful, in a stark sort of way. Not anyplace she would want to live, she thought, not sure what it was about them that she didn’t like. The sheer size? The lack of personality, although she had no idea how one built a high-rise with personality.

  “They’re great,” she said at last.

  “You hate them.”

  “What? Of course not. Your name is big.” She pointed to the lettering—King Towers—on the side. “I thought only Donald Trump did that.”

  “I’m not sure about the name,” he admitted. “It might be better without that.”

  “Not my area of expertise.”

  She tilted her head as she studied first the building, then the man. “So this is it?” she asked. “This is the pinnacle of your career. The towers on the sound and then you’ve won.”

  He shrugged. “I’ll have other goals.”

  “But this is the big one?”

  “It is for me.”

  “Because of how you grew up?”

  “Because every day my old man told me I wouldn’t amount to shit, and he’s wrong.”

  Recognition from the dead couldn’t be easy to get, she thought, wondering if the towers would be enough. Or if Nathan would need something bigger and more impressive next time. He had billions. At what point was it enough?

  “Are you happy, Nathan?” she asked.

  He looked at her. “Hell of a question.”

  “I know. Are you?”

  He was silent a long time, then he grabbed her arm, pulled her close and kissed her.

  When his firm lips claimed her, she decided she might be willing to let the question go. When he nipped at her lower lip, then eased the spot with his tongue, she decided that conversation was a total waste of time. When he put his hand on the curve of her rear and squeezed, she forgot what they’d been talking about.

  The man knew how to kiss, she thought hazily as their tongues circled and teased and aroused. He knew how to do a lot of things. All that intense focus. What would he be like in bed?

  Even though she wasn’t going to go there, she allowed herself a moment of speculation. A moment of imagining his hands…everywhere.

  He broke the kiss to nibble his way along her jaw. She held in a moan, but it was tough. Long-sleeping nerves awoke to find there was a party going on and they liked it. He licked the skin below her ear, then nipped at her lobe. Shivers raced through her body, making her tremble.

  She clung to him because the alternative was to collapse on the floor. When he squeezed her rear again, she couldn’t help arching against him. Her belly came into contact with his arousal and she had to hold in a scream.

  He was hard and thick and she wanted to rub against him like a cat. In that moment, nothing mattered but the man and how he made her feel. She wanted to rip off her clothes and have him touch her everywhere. She wanted to feel all the melty, tingly, moany things in all the parts of her body she’d ignored for years and years. She wanted him rubbing and teasing until she had no choice but to lose herself in her release. She wanted to feel him inside, stretching her, taking her, making her scream with the power of what he was—

  “Take Me Out to the Ball Game” suddenly filled the relative silence of his office. It took Kerri a second to realize that it was her phone and that it was the ring tone she used for Cody’s school.

  She jerked free of Nathan’s touch, found her purse and pushed the talk button on her phone.

  “What happened?” she asked breathlessly.

  “Kerri, I’m sorry. It’s Cody. He fell. There was some water in the hallway. His crutch slipped. They’re taking him to the hospital. You need to hurry.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  “I’LL COME WITH YOU,” Nathan said as Kerri hurried to the elevator.

  “No. I don’t want that.” She had to get out of here and fast. All of this was her fault, she knew that. Now she could only pray for forgiveness and a miracle.

  Be okay, she prayed. Be okay. Be okay. The words played over and over in her mind.

  “Kerri.” He sounded impatient.

  She ignored him. “You can’t help. I need to get there. Is Tim waiting?”

  “That will take too long. I’ll have you flown up by helicopter. You’ll be there in less than half the time.”

  “Okay. Fine. Thank you.”

  She supposed she should protest, but hiring a helicopter would mean nothing to Nathan and if it got her to Cody’s side more quickly, all the better.

  “Kerri, it’s going to be all right.”

  She knew he meant well. She knew it was exactly what people said at a time like this. But she wasn’t in the mood to be socially graceful.

  “You don’t know that,” she told him. “And neither do I.”

  KERRI WAS AT THE HOSPITAL in less than a half hour. She walked into the emergency room, wishing the bright halls weren’t quite so familiar. She’d been here too many times with Cody. No child should have to be in a hospital this often. It just wasn’t right.

  She hurried to the nurses’ station, then smiled at the familiar face. “Hi, Sharon.”

  “Hey, Kerri. He’s in room four. Go on back.” Sharon, a pretty nurse in her midthirties, touched her arm. “He’s okay.”

  Kerri nodded because she didn’t know what to say, then she made her way back to the room, where Cody lay on a narrow bed, looking pale and far too small.

  “Anything for attention,” she said as she entered. “I thought we’d talked about this.”

  He tried to smile, then winced. “Sorry, Mom. Don’t be mad, okay?”

  “When am I mad?”

  “When I don’t clean up my room or I flip channels on the remote. That really gets you all parental.”

  “It’s totally annoying. Pick something to watch. Anything.”

  Then she was holding him, desperate to squeeze and knowing she couldn’t. He felt solid in her embrace. Familiar. Her son. Brian’s son.

  She wanted to curl up and cry at the pain her child suffered, at the unfairness of it all. But tears weren’t allowed. Not with him and rarely when she was alone. They were a weakness. Besides, she’d already given in once this month, when she’d thought Dr. Wallace had walked away from the research. There would be no more tears for a long time.

  She waited until he released her, then she straightened. But she kept stroking his hair and held his hand in hers.

  “So what happened?” she asked, her voice deliberately calm. “They said you slipped?”

  “It was totally dumb. I turned and then I went down. Everybody saw me.”

  Which probably mattered more to him than injuring himself, she reminded herself. He was growing up. What his friends thought would soon matter more and more.

  “Nothing’s broken,” Cody told her. “There’s not even a fracture. I’m bruised, though.”

  “I’ll bet it hurts.”

  “Some.”

  More than some, but he always tried to be brave.

  “Did they give you anything?”

  Cody waved his other arm, the one with the IV. “Saline and a painkiller. Dr. Vinton did a bunch of X-rays. You should probably go find him.”

  “I probably should.” She kissed Cody’s cheek. “You’ll be okay by yourself for a minute?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Mo-om, I’m nine. I’m not a baby.”

  “Don’t flirt with all the nurses. You know how they take that seriously and then you break their hearts.”

  “Can I help it if I’m so good-looking?”

  She smiled, then kissed his cheek. “You’re right—you can’t. I’ll be back.”

  She stepped out of Cody’s room and paused to catch her breath. It hurt to breathe. There were no words to describe how m
uch she hated this. How much she hated seeing him in pain, broken and weak. She needed a miracle. What were the odds of that?

  She walked slowly back to the nurses’ station. Dr. Vinton stood there with a chart in his hands. He looked up and saw her.

  “Kerri. You’re here. Good.”

  “If it were good, I wouldn’t be here. Nothing’s broken, right? That’s what Cody said.”

  Dr. Vinton, a kind man in his late forties, nodded slowly. “Nothing’s broken. We thought it might be, but the X-rays are fine.”

  “Okay, so why don’t you look happier?”

  Dr. Vinton put his arm around her and led her to a small sitting area at the end of the hall. Kerri knew from experience that wasn’t a good sign.

  “Cody didn’t slip because there was water on the floor,” the doctor told her when they were seated. “It may have contributed, but it wasn’t the reason. He fell because he can’t support his own weight anymore. He doesn’t have the strength. We’re doing some tests to be sure. This is the normal progression of the disease, it’s what we expect to find.” He paused. “I’m sorry, Kerri. It’s time to put him in a wheelchair.”

  Her throat tightened as her body clenched in protest. She wanted to jump up and shriek out her complaints to the universe. This couldn’t be happening. It was so wrong. No! She wouldn’t believe it.

  “He can’t,” she whispered, knowing the wheelchair was a symbol of the end. It meant the disease was winning, that Cody would get worse, probably more quickly now. The pain would increase, as would the need for drugs to control the agony of his bones dissolving.

  Dr. Vinton didn’t speak. What was there to say? The disease progressed. Cody had had a good run. Blah, blah, blah.

  Her eyes burned but she wouldn’t give in to the weakness. It served no one.

  “I don’t want a timetable,” she told him. “I want to believe that it’s all going to work out. Don’t tell me otherwise.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Maybe with physical therapy he could get strong enough to compensate.”

  Dr. Vinton studied her. “Kerri, it’s not going to help and the exercises will only make him hurt more.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I’m reaching.”