His only thought was that he couldn’t put her through much more of this.
* * *
HIS KNOCK-OUT KICK came from a place no one, including himself, would have expected. The crowd cheered wildly around him as he spun in direct contrast to the undeniable snapping sound of his leg, followed by the searing pain firing his right leg.
But he was alive. And he’d won the fight. And right now the adrenaline rushing through him after eleven minutes of the toughest fight of his career made it impossible to worry about the pain.
As his body hit the mat and the referee officially called the fight, Brandon and the medic were at Noah’s side.
“I can’t believe you won,” Brandon said.
“Thanks for the confidence, coach,” he said, wincing as the medic adjusted the leg. It hurt, but the adrenaline pumping through him dulled the pain...for now.
He scanned the cage-side crowd for Lindsay. Bailey was waving excitedly at him; there was no sign of Lindsay. “Where is she?”
“She ran to the bathroom the minute your leg bent in that disgusting way.”
Crap. “Sounds about right,” he said, blinking to remain conscious as a sudden wave of heat followed immediately by a chill ran through him. “I’m feeling kind of nauseous myself,” he added as they lifted him onto the red medic stretcher. “Wait. How’s Selers?”
He turned his head to see his opponent still out on the mat, the doctor hovering above him, along with the fighter’s coach and trainers.
“He okay?” He’d been out for more than a few seconds, which was never good. Guilt washed over Noah as it always did whenever he injured an opponent.
“He’s waking up,” Brandon reassured him, placing a hand on his chest to prevent him from sitting up as they lifted the stretcher. “Going to have one heck of a headache, though. By the way, where did that kick come from? I never knew your leg could go so high.”
“Me, either. Don’t expect to see it again,” Noah mumbled as his eyes closed.
* * *
LINDSAY ENTERED THE medical room where Noah was having a cast applied to his right leg.
“Hi,” she said as she joined him next to the bed.
“Feel better?” he asked with a loopy grin and slightly slurred speech. No doubt he’d been given a lot of painkillers while they’d reset the fractured bone.
“I should be asking you that,” she said, standing to the side as the medic finished applying the cast.
“I’m great. I feel fantastic.”
“That’s what the drugs are for,” she said, glancing at his leg. She’d heard the snap from her cage-side seat before she’d seen the leg twist as both men hit the mat.
Seeing him fight was even worse than she’d ever imagined.
“Hey, pretty girl, you okay?” he asked, lifting her chin to look at her.
He seemed quite lucid now in his concern over her.
“I’m fine,” she said, but it was far from the truth. She wasn’t fine.
“It really wasn’t as bad as it looked.”
“That’s good news, because it was the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re a nurse. You see injuries all the time.” He reached for her hand as the medic moved away, signing his treatment and release form.
“I see the aftermath of the injuries. I don’t usually see them happen.” She shuddered.
“I won and I’m okay. The doctor thinks it’s just a hairline fracture, he set the cast just to be safe.” He paused. “And I’m sure Selers will be fine. Brandon said he was waking up as they carried me out.” He tucked her hand close to his body and rested his head back against the bed.
“That doesn’t mean he’s going to be fine. That kick could have killed him.” She looked away, trying but failing to see the sweet, caring Noah she’d started to fall in love with.
But all she could see was the blow to his opponent’s head that had knocked the man out cold.
“Lindsay, we’re fighters. We train for this,” he said as his eyelids fluttered shut. “Looks like I’ll get that fight in August now,” he mumbled, his head falling slightly to the side as he released her hand.
She frowned as she shook him awake. “August?” He couldn’t be serious. “No way—your leg is going to take months to heal...and then there’s the rehab...”
His goofy smile was proof the painkillers had really kicked in now. “Don’t worry, I heal fast. And with you as my nurse, I’ll be good as new in no time.” He reached for her hand again.
She pulled it away. The man was crazy if he thought he’d be ready to fight again in a month. He was crazy to even want to. And if he thought she was going to nurse him back to health so he could do more damage to himself or yet another fighter, he was sadly mistaken. She refused to keep piecing him back together, just so he could rip himself apart again.
Even though she’d promised to.
“Hey, come back,” he said, wiggling closer to the edge of the bed to reach for her again.
She folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t,” she said.
“Lindsay...I’m fine.”
“This time. Personally, I think you got lucky with that kick. That guy should have crushed you.”
“Wow, that hurts more than the leg.”
She studied her shaky hands in front of her and cleared her throat, eyeing the cast on his propped-up leg. “I thought I could do it, Noah... I was wrong.” She shrugged. “Watching you get hurt tonight...even just seeing you step inside that cage with that monster-size man...”
“Lindsay, come here, please.”
She couldn’t. She couldn’t continue this with him. He couldn’t say she hadn’t tried. She had.
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, letting her lips linger a second longer than was safe. “There’s no way I can keep watching you get hurt.”
She squeezed his hand then, turning, left the room.
* * *
IT WAS AFTER midnight when Lindsay quietly turned the key in her door and cringed as it creaked opened. She turned and waved to Bailey, who was backing the tow truck out the driveway.
The living-room television was the only sign of life in the dark house, flashes of light from the screen escaping out into the hall and reflecting off the walls.
Shoot, Ben must be waiting up for her. Suddenly she felt like a teenager sneaking in past curfew, desperate to avoid parents waiting for an explanation.
She removed her shoes, a habit from childhood, and put them in the closet next to the children’s shoes lined up neatly from biggest to smallest. Then, taking a deep breath, she walked toward the living room.
It was only Ben. And just because they were currently both living in her house and raising these kids together didn’t mean she owed him any explanation about where she’d been or who she’d been with. They weren’t a couple.
An image of Noah flashed in her mind as she reached the entryway to the living room. They weren’t a couple, either. Not anymore.
Seeing him fight had reinforced everything she’d believed about the sport. He’d won. But from where she was sitting, she hadn’t seen a winner in that fight. Just one broken bone and a concussion. It didn’t matter that Noah’s arm had been raised in victory.
And now, he’d lost her. She couldn’t help but wonder if that mattered to him. Obviously not enough.
Rounding the corner, she stopped short.
Ben lay on the couch with Abby and Mackenzie curled up next to him. Abby slept soundly with her head against his right leg, her tiny body in a tight ball. Mackenzie lay sprawled across his chest. All three mouths were wide open, their chests rising and falling in sync.
He was such a good man. He was wonderful with the kids. He’d belatedly come through for her. He’d certainly made up for his absence in the begi
nning.
Why couldn’t she love him? Why couldn’t she forget about how Noah made her feel and give Ben a chance? What good was passion, anyway, when it only caused pain and indecision?
Ben was safe, secure and solid. That’s what she needed. What the kids needed in their lives. Not an MMA fighter who threw caution and responsibility to the wind whenever he stepped inside a fight cage.
Noah’s life choices didn’t complement the life she wanted and needed to provide for these kids.
She watched the three of them sleep for a long moment. Ben was the better choice. Did it matter that she didn’t love him the way she longed for Noah?
CHAPTER TWELVE
“SO, WHAT ARE you going to do about the bed-and-breakfast?” Lindsay asked Victoria as she checked Harper’s weight the following week at the clinic. It had been almost two months since it had shut its doors to guests and Lindsay wasn’t sure if the new mom was in any rush to reopen. She recorded the eight pounds on the file and handed the sleeping baby girl back to Victoria.
Victoria cuddled Harper to her chest. “I don’t know. I mean, Luke and I haven’t really had a lot of time to talk about it...this little princess has been dominating most of our waking hours,” she said, nuzzling the baby’s cheek.
Lindsay could understand that. They were adjusting to their new roles as parents. She knew what that was like. The B and B was probably the furthest thing from their minds with everything that had happened. No doubt being there stirred memories of Rachel in the new mom. Lindsay suspected Victoria’s post-partum state could do without that.
“By the way, did Ben find what he was looking for the other day?”
Lindsay frowned. “Ben was at the B and B?”
The past week he’d been working more hours. He seemed a lot more stressed, as well, though he was still holding up his end with the kids.
The night after the MMA fight, she’d apologized for being late and part of her had wanted to tell him whatever had been going on with Noah was over. But for some reason she hadn’t been able to say the words out loud. In her own mind they’d sounded too final... Even though it really was the end, the words had been impossible to say.
True to form, Ben had simply nodded, smiled and kissed her forehead before saying good-night. No questions. No judgments. No anger. He made it so much harder that she wasn’t attracted to him the way he was to her.
“Yeah, he said he was looking for a few of Nathan’s files.” Victoria slid the baby back into her pink onesie.
“Oh...” Odd he wouldn’t have mentioned it. Then again, the company had nothing to do with her.
“He said they had been working on a few deals or something.”
“Of course... I’m sure he got what he needed,” she said. The two men had been business partners. The company was Ben’s now.
“Speaking of, are you sure you don’t want any of their furniture? If not, I was planning to have Goodwill come and take the items before we reopen and turn the living quarters into more guest rooms.”
She hesitated. She still needed to replace her white leather couch with something else. Something more comfortable if Ben stuck around much longer.
He hadn’t talked about going back to Newark anytime soon and sleeping on her current sofa couldn’t be comfortable. Maybe she should turn the dining room she never used into another bedroom.
“Maybe I’ll stop by after work, if that’s okay and have a look.”
“Sure.” Victoria reached into her purse for the keys to the B and B. “You can leave these in our mailbox at home if we’re not there when you get back,” she said, securing the baby in her seat.
“Thanks.” She pocketed the key as she opened the exam room door. “’Bye, Harper,” she said, waving at the little girl as she woke, her bright blue eyes sparkling underneath long, blond eyelashes.
Luke Dawson sure made cute babies, she thought wryly.
Three hours later Lindsay unlocked the door to the bed-and-breakfast. She gathered the old newspapers on the step and carried them inside. It felt eerie when she closed the front door behind her. The place was dark, the curtains drawn, and it smelled stale because the air conditioner had been turned off weeks before.
A cover of dust on the tables made it seem as though the inn had been abandoned for years not just a few months.
The silence made her acutely aware that she was alone. It gave her goose bumps and she shivered.
She was being silly; it was just the B and B.
She forced herself to climb the stairs toward the living quarters, but when her foot landed on the creaky step, third from the bottom, her heart nearly stopped as it echoed in the empty house.
Get a grip. That step has always squeaked.
She ran the rest of the way and, avoiding the bedrooms, which were now nearly empty, she made it to Nathan’s office.
She’d never been in this room before and she felt her brother all around her. The plain maple desk and matching bookshelf he’d no doubt ordered from Ikea and assembled himself in the interest of saving money, the multicolored stacking trays from the dollar store on his desk that still held client files. And the pegboard on the wall pinned with building codes, she assumed, and several blueprints he’d been working on.
Practical and functional, just like Nathan.
His drafting table in the corner was two side-by-side ironing boards. She shook her head.
She quickly leafed through the files on his desk...work stuff. She opened the drawers, but again they were filled with company information: invoices, contract files, nothing personal.
Noticing a two-drawer file cabinet under the desk, she tried the drawers, but they were empty. She scanned the bookshelves next but found nothing.
Sitting back in his uncomfortable, cheap office chair, she closed her eyes. Her brother couldn’t even have left her a sticky note with “good luck” written on it? Something? Anything? Had they really grown that far apart as adults? As children they’d been close. They had been there for one another...
“Stay in here and be quiet, okay?” she’d told him when he was four, before shutting the closet door under the staircase in their family home. She remembered creeping back to the kitchen to get her homework.
That’s when the sound of plates shattering on the kitchen floor had stopped her.
“Lindsay!”
She remembered her mother’s high-pitched yell as if she’d heard it this morning. Still it gave her goose bumps, just as it had when she’d been a child, slowly stepping over shards of glass in her stockinged feet.
Her mother had never allowed shoes in the house.
“Where’s your brother?” Her mother’s cheeks had often been mascara stained, reminding Lindsay of a raccoon. Why hadn’t she worn waterproof mascara when she cried so often?
“I don’t know,” she’d said.
She’d refused to give away the hiding spot she’d created for her brother whenever their mother segued from depressed to angry. If only her father hadn’t disappeared during those days when their mom had taken her anger out on them.
What she wouldn’t have given as a child to live next door with Luke Dawson and his TV-watching, board-game-playing family. Luke and his normal family.
Stupid Nathan was always earning her a smack from her mother for lying.
They’d always needed to be out of sight in times like that. Wait out the storm over at the Dawson house until their mother’s mood shifted once more and she was regretful for the damage she’d created. When she’d kiss them and hug them and tell them she was sorry.
When she was even more dangerous because Nathan started to trust her again.
Lindsay never had. She’d known better.
But Nathan had never learned.
Maybe shielding him from their mother’s most destructiv
e episodes hadn’t allowed him that chance. And over the years it had created a gap between them as she’d moved further away and he’d struggled harder to gain their mother’s love and acceptance.
He’d grown to think of her as a pain in his side; the annoying older sister who flirted too much, lived life a little too loud.
So why on earth had he chosen her to care for his children?
* * *
“HI, MAYOR PARSONS. What brings you by?” From his perch on top of the community center’s picnic table, his wrapped leg hanging over the side, Noah tossed a basketball one-handed toward the netless hoop.
To his knowledge, the mayor had been inside the center twice. Once for the ceremonial opening years before and once to receive the annual thank-you dedication plaque the center offered the city for the funding to stay open each year. Since that first year, Parsons had sent his assistant to receive the honor.
Noah felt it safe to assume his presence today wasn’t a good thing.
“I have a meeting here in about five minutes.” Mayor Parsons hesitated, before adding, “I’m glad you’re here. Can I have a minute with you first?”
Noah caught the ball from Dominic, who’d successfully scored on the rebound of his shot, then tossed it back to the boy.
“You guys keep playing, I’ll be right back,” he said, climbing down from the table and reaching for his crutches.
Dr. McCarthy had removed the cast set by the fight medic the week before and X-rays had showed a hairline fracture of one of the bones in his shin. The doctor expected a full recovery in about a week.
Thank God. He had a fight in two weeks.
He followed the mayor inside, where the lack of air-conditioning made the place smell stale and ten degrees hotter than outside. The floor fans didn’t do much to ventilate the space in the August heat and all of the indoor activities and programs had been moved outside, leaving the place empty.
Noah propped the door open to try to force a cross-draft with the open windows. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“Noah, my office recently received appeal applications for funding for the Turnaround program...”
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