It Might Be You

by Jennifer Gracen

  Amanda frowned at him. “Um . . . why not? If you don’t mind my asking. That’s just a strange thing to say, that they don’t trust you. They don’t know you yet.”

  “Well . . .” He scrubbed a hand over his hair and sighed. “Turns out I’m a match for Myles because I’m his uncle. I’m a Harrison by blood. I didn’t know myself until a few days ago, and I had to tell them last night. They didn’t take it very well.”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  “And to top it all off,” Nick said, “Charles thinks I might be lying and saying this to blackmail the family for hush money. Which is offensive as hell, I don’t mind telling you. So . . . yeah. That’s the story, unreal as it is.”

  She gaped at him, looking him over as if with new eyes. “You . . . you’re really . . . ?”

  With a weary nod, he quickly recounted the tale his mother had told him last week.

  Amanda was dumbfounded. She just sat there for a minute, staring as her mind processed Nick’s words. It sounded like something off a reality TV show, not something that happened to actual normal people. Not that the Harrisons were normal, exactly. “They must have flipped out,” she finally breathed, trying to imagine stoic, proper Charles Harrison III finding out this guy was his long-lost half brother.

  “You could say that.” Nick half-grinned, but it was a rueful grin, no joy there.

  “Holy crap.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to . . . I mean, it’s just—”

  “I know. You’re fine.”

  “This is a lot to take in.” She peered closely at him. “Are you okay?”

  His eyes rounded as they fixed on her. She watched his throat work as he swallowed. His voice was soft and low when he spoke. “You know . . . you’re the first person to ask me that. Thank you.”

  A wave of feeling flooded her, something like warmth. Empathy, she figured. But it was warm and insistent, the natural caregiver in her rising to the surface without conscious thought. That was her, trying to care for everyone, always. It wasn’t even an impulse; it was how she was wired, something deep in her DNA.

  Before she could say anything more, Nick leaned in, elbows on his knees. “Amanda . . . right now, when I want to ask about Myles, it’s just easier to talk to you. You’re, like, the only objective person I’ve met here so far. You’re not part of the family. You’re not looking at me thinking I want something sinister. Like I’m the enemy.” Something flashed in his dark eyes, and her heart panged again like it had a minute before.

  He was tall and strong, self-assured, bright, and dripping masculinity. But over the mask, stark white against the warm gold of his skin, she saw something in his eyes that struck her as . . . vulnerable. What a situation he’d been tossed into. She felt for him.

  He seemed like a good man. Hell, he’d come all this way to help Myles, and she knew very well plenty of people tapped to be bone marrow donors were scared of the physical risks and said no. But he’d come, and was obviously willing, and now to be set against a whole family of powerful people skeptical over his motives . . . it was probably daunting as hell, even for someone as sturdy as he clearly was. Another pang of sympathy fluttered through her. She wanted to take his hand, but squelched that impulse. She barely knew him. But . . .

  “Look . . . um . . .” She licked her dry lips. Was she about to overstep her bounds? Possibly. But the look on his face . . . she trusted him, even if the Harrisons didn’t. She couldn’t explain why. Her intuition told her she could. “If you’re going to come hang out with Nick sometimes, I’m probably going to be here when you do, because I’m here with him every day. So . . . of course I work for the Harrisons, but you can . . . think of me as neutral territory. I want you to be comfortable around Myles. And me. Okay?”

  His thick, dark brows furrowed as his eyes narrowed to study her. “Really?”

  “Yeah. So don’t worry about any of that drama when you’re here with Myles and me.” She gave a small grin as she added, “I’m Switzerland.”

  He chuckled, his eyes crinkling. “Aha. So . . . Swiss Miss, that’s you. Got it.”

  She laughed too. “I don’t know about that nickname, but yeah.”

  His eyes warmed as they held hers. “That’s very kind of you. Thanks.”

  “Sure. I just . . .” She blew out a breath. “Wow, that’s some story.”

  “It sure is. And I don’t even know the half of it. I need to talk to my mother more . . .” He looked away, apparently caught up in thought. Then those warm, dark eyes sought hers again. “You know what? Maybe we should nix the Swiss Miss thing. I don’t want you to get in trouble for talking to me.”

  “Why would I? That’s ridiculous.” She shook her head. “They’re really good people, Charles and Lisette. I don’t know the others as well, but they’ve all come to visit Myles enough times that I know they’re good people too. This is a big, loving family. They’ve banded around Myles like few families I’ve seen, and it’s got nothing to do with their wealth. They all look out for each other. They care.”

  “And I’m an outsider storming the castle,” he murmured.

  She didn’t know what to say to that. For her to speculate wasn’t only pointless, it wasn’t her place. So she said, “Well, when you’re in here, just playing video games with the kiddo? There’ll be no storming going on. Just . . . kindness. Right?”

  The way he looked at her seemed to swallow her up. She almost felt a bit woozy from the intensity of his gaze. But he said, “Right. That’s all I’m trying to do. Thank you for trusting me on that.”

  “Well, with what I know now, if Myles is your nephew . . . it makes sense you’d want to get to know him, beyond the basics of a donor meeting the patient. And I think it’s really sweet. For whatever it’s worth.”

  “It’s worth something.”

  They stared into each other’s eyes, a tangible pull between them. Something buzzed through her, a new searing shot of fizzy heat. She wanted to tear that mask off his face and look at him fully. It was a crime for a face that handsome to be half hidden, and she felt denied. She wanted to climb into his lap. Her attraction was undeniable, some crazy chemistry at work . . .

  “Amanda?” Myles mumbled weakly from the bed.

  She shot to her feet and went right to him. “Hey, sleepyhead. How’re you feeling?”

  “Thirsty,” he rasped.

  “Hang on.” She went to the small table along the wall, which was set up with all her needs. The box of surgical masks, the bottle of hand sanitizer, the plastic container of wet wipes, latex gloves and sucking candies and bottles of pills and . . . she grabbed an unopened bottle of red Gatorade, poured some into a plastic cup, and brought it to him. She helped him to sit up more comfortably. The two armchairs by the window were a bit recessed, not in line of vision with the bed. So she told him, “Someone’s here to see you, mister.”

  Myles’s eyes flew wide. “He came back?” His head craned around her to look toward the chairs.

  “Hey, buddy.” Nick was there, standing behind Amanda. She could feel his presence behind her, it was so strong.

  “Hey, Nick!” Myles chugged down the rest of the drink. “Ready to play?”

  “Absolutely, man. What are we playing?”

  “Plants versus Zombies GW2,” Myles said with a big smile.

  “I . . . have no idea what that is,” Nick admitted with a laugh. “You’ll have to show me how to play. And I’d say be patient while I learn, but I bet you’ll have fun kicking my butt, so it’s cool.”

  Myles smiled brightly.

  “Tell you what,” Amanda said. “I’ll set it up for you so you can get started, but first . . .” She handed Myles a stick of lip balm from his nightstand, which he put on his cracked lips dutifully. “Are you hungry?”

  “Not really.”

  “You need to eat something to keep your strength up,” she said.

  Myles shrugged.

  “We could order a pizza,” Nick suggested. “My treat.”


  Amanda opened her mouth to say something, but Myles said, “I could eat a slice. If you want.”

  “I want,” Nick said. He’d eaten in the hospital cafeteria, wanting to get his blood sugar back up after giving several vials of blood. But he could always eat. He looked to Amanda. “How do we do that here?”

  “I’ll take care of it,” she said with a smile.

  Nick watched Amanda give Myles a quick check—she felt his forehead before letting him put his Yankees cap back on, poured him another small cup of Gatorade and brought it to him, fluffed the pillows behind him and even quickly ruffled his dark hair. She was so good with him. It just made him like her more. He knew an efficient nurse when he saw one, and she clearly was, but it was more than that. She really cared about this kid. Her heart and soul were in it, and it showed.

  And while Nick knew how dangerous it was to let your heart and soul get involved in work where lives were on the line . . . he figured it was different for her. As a cop, he couldn’t afford to get personally invested in the people he helped. Things happened fast on the street; he had to think, move, not feel. And with the system being how it was, and people being how they were . . . if he let himself care too much, it’d tear him to shreds.

  But she was with this kid day in and day out, and had been for over a year. He’d watched her face when she’d told him about what Myles had gone through during treatment—two rounds each of chemo and radiation that hadn’t worked—and how he’d rarely complained, just tried to keep positive. About how they played video games and board games and colored in adult coloring books together . . . She was more than his day nurse; she was his champion. Nick wondered if the Harrison family knew what a rare gem they’d found in this woman. And he didn’t want to think of what it’d do to her if Myles didn’t make it. He didn’t want to think about that at all, actually.

  He watched her as discreetly as possible throughout the evening, trying not to stare with open admiration. She’d nursed this boy through medical nightmares, and would continue to for as long as she was needed. She’d opened herself to Nick, and believed his story without even knowing him. She wanted him to feel comfortable there and had made it clear she was a safe space. That had made something heavy swirl in his chest, heavy but sweet at the same time.

  Amanda Kozlov was genuine. Clearly capable, strong, and compassionate. Anyone who spoke to her for more than a few minutes could see all that. But add to that the way he burned for her when he looked at her for more than a few seconds? The way his blood had raced south when she’d innocently licked her lips? The way his heart pulsed when she sighed and her breasts rose and fell, tantalizing him? Goddamn, he wanted her.

  Sweet Jesus, she was beautiful. Her honey-blond hair that fell past her shoulders looked soft, and he wanted to wrap it around his fingers to pull her closer. Her pale, creamy skin; her deliciously pink mouth; her enticing figure, hidden but visible beneath her shapeless uniform . . . all of it called to him. The curve of her ass alone made his body tingle and want. Her scrubs today were teal with white swirls, and the color set off her gorgeous sky-blue eyes.

  But it was more than that. Talking to her had confirmed his initial assessment: she was smart, savvy, with a heady mixture of sweet and sexy that intrigued him. He just . . . really liked her. He liked the whole package.

  He’d pulled his armchair to sit beside Myles’s bed. They laughed and talked as the kid taught him the game. But every few minutes, he couldn’t help but sneak a glance at Amanda. She sat in the chair still by the window, reading on her tablet. Nick knew why her brows were puckered as she read; it was the material she was absorbing. She’d told him how Myles would be “conditioned” for the bone marrow transplant, flooded with chemo and radiation, and she wanted to read more about what was ahead. He admired her dedication, her need to be as informed as possible, her desire to be prepared. He was the same way.

  He was there to get to know his nephew. That was now his number-two reason for being in New York, behind donating and hopefully helping him get well. But yeah . . . getting to know Amanda too was a new and exhilarating prospect. She’d hit him like a tidal wave, knocking him on his ass. It was the last thing in the world he’d expected to find when he’d come to New York . . . but he couldn’t deny it. He was drawn to her, and considering all the chaos and uncertainty swirling through his life right now, it was the one pleasant thing he could grab on to.

  She flashed him a quick smile and it made his insides heat in response. Crushing hard on Myles’s nurse wasn’t the worst sin he could commit, right?

  Chapter Eight

  Nick rang the doorbell to the Harrison mansion. He hadn’t planned on being back at the mansion the very next evening, but he’d been summoned by Charles. His guess was that the test results had already come back. Only that would have made Charles sound so serious . . . and a tiny bit humbled, if Nick wasn’t wrong.

  So here he was, on a cold Friday night. Well, it was cold to him. Everyone around him that day had been thrilled for temperatures that’d hit fifty-one degrees. To him, that was still too damn cold. He was a Florida boy through and through.

  It was Ava who opened the door for him. She smiled and said, “Hiya, Unc.”

  Nick laughed. She was a firecracker, this kid. “Hi yourself.”

  She took his jacket, but he said, “Think I’m keeping the shoes on. I’m here to see your dad tonight, not your brother.”

  “Family powwow ahead,” Ava whispered. “Be warned. My aunt and other uncles are here too.”

  A quick worry snaked through Nick, but he only whispered back, “Thanks for the heads-up.”

  Ava led him to the living room. He hadn’t been in there before. It was much more grandiose than the den; more expensive furnishings and décor, all intended to impress. Nick supposed it was impressive . . . if he gave a shit about that stuff. Tess and Pierce sat on the longest couch, Dane was sprawled out on a love seat, and Charles was at the back wall, behind the wet bar, fixing himself a drink. “Well, well,” Nick said. “Am I walking into an ambush here?”

  “No,” Tess said quickly, shooting to her feet. “No, please. We just want to talk. Not fight, or argue, or anything like that. All right?”

  “What she said,” Pierce chimed in. He and Dane set their beer bottles down on the coffee table at the same time.

  Nick could feel the tension in the air, and it tugged at him. He gazed at Tess for a long beat, quickly scanned the three men’s faces, and a surge of knowing rushed through him. “You got the test results back already, huh?”

  “Yes,” Charles said from behind the bar. He held up his glass, half full of golden liquid. “Scotch. You want some? Or a beer?”

  “No thanks.” He looked at Tess, saw the way she was studying him with something like wonder in her eyes. “It proved my mother’s story, didn’t it?”

  Tess nodded and drew a shaky breath. “Without a doubt. You’re a Harrison. He’s your father.”

  The words set off something in his chest, a bizarre combination of elation and dread. His mother had been telling the truth, as had he, and they all had to eat that now. But at the same time . . . Jesus Christ, he was related to all these people. What did that mean to him? He didn’t have the faintest fucking idea yet.

  He just nodded, suddenly not knowing what to say or do. He could hear his heartbeat roaring in his ears. Everyone was looking at him.

  “Are you okay?” Tess asked.

  He nodded again. His throat had closed up, so he just looked at her.

  She went to him, gently put her hand on his forearm, looked right into his eyes, and murmured, “Sit down, Nick.”

  He let her nudge him into the empty armchair and stared at his hands. His mind whirred, but it was blank. Just white noise in there.

  Tess crouched in front of him, watching him, almost protective. “Talk to us. Your head must be spinning.”

  He shrugged, but met her eyes. “Ten days ago, I was just Nick Martell, a Miami cop, doing my thing.... I
knew who my family was, who I was. . . . I guess it all just hit me.” He raked his hands through his hair. “This whole thing is so fucked up, I don’t know where to start.”

  “I’m sure it’s overwhelming,” she said.

  “It’s a shock for all of us,” Dane said.

  Dane’s voice gave Nick a jolt, a small rush of irritation. Nick glanced at him. “Oh, I’m your brother, so you can talk to me now? How nice.”

  “I was wary of a stranger claiming to be a part of my family,” Dane said. “I won’t apologize for that. My family’s been through too much, especially recently.” His voice was calm, but his blue eyes glinted with steel. “However. Especially, yes, seeing as you were right—and the fact that I believe you when you say you’re not after anything but the truth—I’m sorry if I came off like a dick. And would like to start over.”

  Nick sighed. Maybe a drink would have been a good idea.

  Charles took a seat in the other chair as Tess took hold of Nick’s hands. Her gentle touch startled him. She hadn’t stopped looking into his eyes; even in his fog, he recognized she was clearly trying to soothe and support him. “There’s so much I—we—want to know about you,” she said softly. “I hope you’ll let us.”

  “And if you don’t,” Pierce said from where he sat, “that’s cool, too. You made it pretty clear you don’t want to know us, and given the reception you got the other night, we can’t blame you. Isn’t that right, Charles?” His jab wasn’t lost on anyone.

  Nick couldn’t help but grin. He liked Pierce; he couldn’t deny it.

  “I owe you an apology,” Charles began.

  “Save it,” Nick said. “You made yourself clear.” He stared right back, not giving an inch.

  Charles’s eyes blazed behind his glasses. “This family has more money and power than most people could ever dream of,” he hissed. “And I’ve been at the number-two gatekeeper position for my entire life. I will protect my family to the ends of the earth. It’s what I was born to do.”