Always Look Twice

by Dawson, Geralyn

  Mark’s muscles tensed. ‘‘I’m not going to see her.’’

  ‘‘Luke says her office isn’t far from here.’’

  ‘‘So?’’

  ‘‘So you need to settle things between the two of you.’’

  ‘‘Things are fine between us. Things don’t exist.’’

  ‘‘But what about what she wants?’’

  ‘‘Hell, Torie, if she wanted anything from me . . . believe me, Annabelle isn’t shy about asking. She’s fine with things.’’

  ‘‘I doubt that, Mark Callahan. Look, you can’t stay married to someone you don’t speak to for two years. It’s wrong for you to leave her hanging, especially if her clock is ticking. Believe me, I know.’’

  He heard something in her voice. ‘‘Is your clock ticking, Torie?’’

  Her mouth slid into a satisfied smile. ‘‘Not anymore. I’m pregnant. I’m due in May.’’

  He stopped, grinned down at her, and gave her a big hug as she grinned back and continued, ‘‘But don’t say anything. Matt wants to make a big announcement when we’re all together. Now, back to your Annabelle. You need to do right by her, Mark. If you’re not going to keep her, then let her go.’’

  ‘‘Torie, honey, it’s not like that. You don’t know Annabelle. She’s the most direct woman I’ve ever met. If she wanted a divorce, she would have asked for one by now.’’

  ‘‘Maybe she doesn’t know what she wants. Maybe she’s been holding out hope that you’ll change your mind.’’

  Mark stared out at the gently rolling surf. ‘‘That is not gonna happen.’’

  ‘‘I won’t comment on how sad that is,’’ Torie replied. ‘‘Does she understand how you feel? You’re not exactly the most open person when it comes to emotions. Did you make it clear to her?’’

  He thought back to that last time in New York, her hurt silence, his defensive panic, right before she stole his clothes and decamped. ‘‘Yes.’’

  Okay, even he heard the defensiveness in the word. ‘‘Maybe we ought to head back. Your husband’s probablyworrying that you finally wised up and ran off with me.’’

  ‘‘Ha. What he’s worrying about is that I’ll overtax myself while taking a simple walk. The man has always been overprotective, but since the minute that test stick turned blue, he’s been a bear.’’

  Mark recalled the moment Carrie’s test turned up positive. The timing couldn’t have been worse what with him about to deploy overseas, but still, they’d been giddy with happiness. The memory was bitter-sweet.

  The memory of Annabelle’s announcement that day at the Waldorf was a nightmare.

  But that was a thought for another time, he told himself, shaking the memory off. This time belonged to Matt and Torie, and Mark truly was thrilled for them, so he chatted with his sister-in-law about silly, baby-related things until they stood outside the door to the suite. There, Torie lifted her hand to touch his cheek. ‘‘You’ll talk to her?’’

  ‘‘Torie . . .’’

  ‘‘I’ll keep the others off your back if you’ll promise to talk to her.’’

  ‘‘You keep the others off my back, and I promise I’ll think about it.’’

  For the next two days while playing tourist with his family, he did little else. The time he spent entertaining his nieces made a particular impression. Finally, on the morning of the day they were to leave, while the women were in the hotel spa getting girly and Matt had taken the twins to the beach to dig in the sand, he rousted Luke from a lounge chair beside the pool and said, ‘‘Put some clothes on and come with me, would you?’’

  ‘‘Where you wanting to go?’’

  ‘‘To see Annabelle.’’

  At that, Luke moved like lightning and twenty minuteslater, the two men loaded into the rental SUV and headed for Kaimuki, where Annabelle lived in a two-story walk-up with an office downstairs. While Mark drove, he sensed his twin’s curious gaze upon him. ‘‘What?’’

  ‘‘Nothing.’’ After Mark snorted, Luke added, ‘‘All right. I’m just thinking about what a good brother I am. Do you have any clue about how much Maddie’s gonna make me pay for this?’’

  ‘‘You mean for leaving the kids with Matt?’’

  ‘‘Nah, he volunteered to babysit this morning. Said he needs the practice. The guy is over the moon about the baby. He’ll be fun to watch over the next eight months. No, what’s gonna piss Maddie off is that I’m gonna get to meet Annabelle and she’s not.’’

  ‘‘You don’t have to meet her. In fact, I’d rather you just wait in the car while I talk to her.’’

  ‘‘The hell you say.’’ Luke snorted. ‘‘I’m not gonna wait in the car. Why did you ask me to tag along if you wanted me to wait in the car?’’

  ‘‘You’re my protection,’’ Mark answered truthfully.

  ‘‘You think she’ll hurt you?’’ Luke pursed his lips and considered. ‘‘Yeah, I could see it happening. She’s not exactly girly.’’

  ‘‘I think she might do me.’’

  ‘‘Do you?’’

  ‘‘Yeah.’’

  Luke’s mouth gaped. For a long minute, he stared at Mark, obviously at a loss for words at the idea that his brother wanted to avoid having sex with his wife. ‘‘You have something against sex, brother?’’

  ‘‘No, but if I’m alone with her, I’ll have sex against something. Anything. It happens every damned time.’’

  ‘‘No shit?’’ Luke’s eyes widened with admiration.

  Mark nodded grimly. ‘‘That’s how this whole marriage began and I’m afraid it could keep it from ending.’’

  ‘‘Why would you—?’’ Luke broke off abruptly. ‘‘Ending?’’

  Mark gritted his teeth as he spied the address he wanted on the left. A brass nameplate read MONROE INVESTIGATIONS and pots of blooming hibiscus sat on either side of the entry. He pulled his car into the parking spot marked RESERVED FOR MONROE CLIENTS and shifted into park. Then he sucked in a breath when the office door opened and Annabelle stepped outside. She wore a yellow polka-dot spaghetti-strap sundress and carried a watering pot in her hand.

  He removed his aviator sunglasses and their gazes met and held. Beside him, Luke whistled softly. ‘‘Hell, Mark.’’

  ‘‘Yeah. I know.’’

  Annabelle let out the breath she’d been holding for three days. He’s here. Finally. He’d come, just when she’d given up waiting for him.

  It seemed as if she’d been waiting for him forever.

  She concentrated on stopping the tremble in her hand that caused the stream of water to miss her hibiscus. The door to his SUV opened and he unfolded his tall legs from inside. He wore cargo shorts, flip-flops, and a Jimmy Buffett T-shirt—a far cry from his tux of the other night, but just as sexy. More sexy, even.

  She turned to tend the other flowerpot, outwardly calm, inwardly a mess.

  Someone sat in the passenger seat. Who? She darted a quick glance toward the passenger seat and saw . . . Mark. No, not Mark. His twin, his brother Luke. The DEA agent. Former DEA agent. Was he the one married to the photographer or the rock princess? The princess, she thought. Baby Dagger was married to Luke aka Sin Callahan. Mark was Devil. The dark-haired, green-eyed, silver-tongued Devil. Devil and Sin. My God, two of them. And Matt— he’d sounded sexy on the radio the other night. Three. Hadn’t Mark once said that John had been the good-looking Callahan? Four.

  Bet the girls in the town where they grew up were all still wandering around in a daze. Four of them.

  But she cared about only one. Hers. At least, he’d been hers for a while. Sort of. As much as Mark Callahan could belong to anyone.

  The car door shut with a solid whop. Annabelle’s mouth went so dry that she considered bringing the water spout up to her mouth. Pure grit enabled her to paste a smile on her face and say, ‘‘Hello, Mark.’’

  ‘‘Annabelle.’’

  ‘‘I thought you’d be long gone from Hawaii by now.’’

  ‘‘We’re leaving to
day.’’

  ‘‘I see.’’ She emptied the last of the water into the flowerpot, summoned up her nerve, and said, ‘‘So you came to tell me good-bye?’’

  He shoved his hands into his shorts back pockets. ‘‘Can we go inside?’’

  ‘‘Sure.’’ She nodded toward the car. ‘‘What about your brother?’’

  ‘‘He’ll wait. He’s waiting.’’

  ‘‘He doesn’t want to come in?’’

  ‘‘Only if it’s necessary.’’ Lowering his voice, he muttered, ‘‘If the situation becomes dangerous.’’

  Dangerous? She considered it for a moment, then said, ‘‘I’m not going to kill you, Callahan. And I rather like this dress and I don’t want to ruin it, so maiming and torture are out, too.’’

  ‘‘That’s not what I’m talking about.’’

  ‘‘What . . . ?’’ He gave her that familiar smoldering look. Oh. ‘‘We are not having sex!’’

  He winced with regret. ‘‘I know. I know.’’ He gestured toward the door and Annabelle led him inside.

  Mark glanced around her office and approval gleamed in his eyes. ‘‘Nice place. It fits you, Annabelle.’’

  ‘‘Yes, it does.’’ Her office furniture was solid wood with clean lines and utilitarian function. She had comfortable seating for her clients and fresh flowers for herself. Under other circumstances she would have invited him to check out her electronics in the back office because inside his athlete’s body lurked the quintessential computer geek. He would appreciate her setup. But she would no sooner invite Mark Callahan into her back office than she would invite him back into her bed.

  Which she wouldn’t do. Really.

  Not on a bet.

  Never again.

  Damn.

  Dear God, I’ve missed him.

  She forced a smile. ‘‘So, what brings you here, Callahan? Did you come to bust my butt about Rad?’’

  ‘‘I wanted to, but I beat up on my brothers instead. Can’t say I’m happy with the decisions you-all made.’’

  ‘‘They were the right decisions.’’ Annabelle’s chin came up. Be hanged if she’d apologize.

  ‘‘Not for me. Rad walked away.’’

  ‘‘Actually, he flew away and you are letting your desire for vengeance get in the way of your good sense, Callahan.’’

  ‘‘Doesn’t much matter now, does it?’’ he said with a shrug. ‘‘Mark my words, though. He’s a bad penny who will turn up again. You’d better be ready for him.’’

  ‘‘Paulo will take care of Rad and his organization.’’

  Mark shook his head. ‘‘Don’t count on it. Your Italian doesn’t know what he’s getting into with those boys.’’

  ‘‘He’s not my Italian.’’ Anger flared within her. He didn’t want her, but he didn’t want anyone else to want her, either? Damn him.

  ‘‘Bet he still wants to be,’’ he murmured as he wandered over toward the bookcase and picked up a framed picture of Doc, her first foster rescue dog. ‘‘Good-looking boxer. I’m partial to brindles. He’s yours?’’

  Apparently, he’d finished talking about Radovanovic. That was fine with Annabelle, but she didn’t care to follow him down that particular small-talk path. She was well aware that she was funneling her maternal feelings into the rescue program, and she had too much pride to let Mark know that. ‘‘He belongs to a friend. Let me ask again. Why are you here?’’

  He returned the frame to the bookcase, drew a deep breath, then faced her. His jade eyes remained expressionless as he said, ‘‘I came to talk about a divorce. I think it’s time we did it.’’

  Oh. Well. With that, he extinguished the last flicker of hope burning in her heart.

  I really do want to kill him. Instead of reaching for her weapon, she summoned the professional inside her and used every ounce of acting skills she possessed to calmly state, ‘‘Okay.’’

  That surprised him, she could tell. Had he expected her to protest? Burst into sobs? Fall down on her knees and plead? Not in this lifetime. She folded her hands and waited.

  The man known on at least three continents for being cool, calm, and collected then stumbled over his explanation. ‘‘It’s the state of your eggs and I’m not going there and my sister-in-law told me I’m not being fair to you.’’

  Annabelle blinked. ‘‘And you discussed my eggs with your sister-in-law?’’

  Where is my gun?

  ‘‘They wanted to invite you to go to the spa with them today.’’

  Her blood heated and her smile went cold. ‘‘And for that, you want to divorce me?’’

  ‘‘No, dammit. I don’t want to divorce you. I liked what we had just fine. But you want children!’’ He hesitated and shot her a look that might—just might— have held a tiny ray of hope. ‘‘Unless you’ve changed your mind?’’

  She wanted to lash out at him. The man still wanted to sleep with her. He’d happily schedule sex all over the globe. That’s what he wanted. That’s all he wanted. Casual sex. No home. No kids. No strings. Mark Callahan couldn’t handle strings. He’d hang himself with them.

  ‘‘No,’’ she said softly, swallowing the hurt. ‘‘I haven’t changed my mind.’’

  That truth told only half the story. What she had wanted from Mark was emotional involvement, but apparently that asked for too much. Mark Callahan was the most closed-off person on the planet.

  She’d witnessed and respected his detachment during the years they’d worked together, and she’d strived to maintain a similar state herself. With their occupation, a degree of detachment had been necessary to survive. But when they married, they no longer worked in the unit. They had the freedom to want, to care. To love.

  But he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Wasn’t capable.

  It had taken Annabelle time and a late period to figure that out. That weekend in New York before it all fell apart, she had come to understand that she wasn’t just ready for emotional involvement—she was already there. She’d cared about Mark Callahan. She had been in love with Mark Callahan.

  When he’d celebrated the negative test and rejected even the idea of making a family with her, he’d shown her that his walls were still firmly in place.

  But Annabelle never had been one to give up easy. Once she got past the hurt, she had reassessed. The man’s walls were higher than hers, thicker than hers. She had thought that maybe he simply needed more time for those walls to come tumbling down.

  So she’d waited. One month. Two. Twelve. Somewhere along in there, she had told herself she didn’t love him anymore. Didn’t want him anymore. If he was too blind, stubborn, and hard-hearted to take what she had offered him, then it was his loss.

  Nevertheless, she had continued to wait. He was still her husband, and she was loyal to that.

  Until now.

  You had your chance, Callahan. You blew it.

  Annabelle took a business card from her desk and handed it to him. ‘‘Have your lawyer send the papers here. Now, I have an appointment I need to get to.’’

  His eyes widened ever so slightly. His jaw hardened. ‘‘You’re awfully calm about this.’’

  She arched a single eyebrow. ‘‘You would prefer histrionics?’’

  ‘‘No . . . no . . . of course not. I just thought . . .’’ He blew out a heavy breath. ‘‘It’s better this way, Belle. I can’t give you what you need.’’

  ‘‘That’s right.’’ She smiled coldly. ‘‘You can’t. And I can’t give you what you need.’’

  ‘‘I don’t need anything,’’ he protested.

  ‘‘Exactly. And I didn’t do anything wrong, which makes this whole thing easier. I’m clear, you’re clear, and we walk away. Clean and easy. Just like that Texas expression you used to say when we finished an operation—calf rope. It’s done.’’

  She picked up her purse and waited expectantly. After a moment’s hesitation, he walked to the door and stepped outside.

  Annabelle called upon years of training to conceal her e
motions, to hide her breaking heart. This could well be the last time she ever saw him. He was leaving for good this time and she had to let go. She had to let him go.

  Calf rope.

  He stopped, turned around. His gaze locked on the blooming plants in her flowerpots, and his voice came soft and low and troubled. ‘‘Annabelle . . .’’

  ‘‘Have a nice trip home, Callahan. Have a nice life.’’ With that, she closed the door.

  Chapter Four

  Seattle

  Seven months later

  ‘‘Got ’em.’’ Mark switched off his computer and rose from his desk, satisfaction washing through him. Days like today were the reason he continued to work rather than spend all his time salmon fishing. The cyber-sting operation he’d developed at the request of an old friend who was now the police chief of a Denver suburb had gone off without a hitch. Tonight, a ring of child pornographers faced spending a big chunk of their lives in prison due in part to his efforts. Made a man feel good.

  He grabbed a beer from the fridge, then wandered into the living room of his downtown condo, where floor-to-ceiling windows provided a multimillion-dollar view of Puget Sound and the Olympic Mountains. Outside, the sun was shining and the breeze was gentle, so he stepped out onto the small balcony to enjoy the afternoon.

  He’d bought this condo, which occupied half of the thirty-second floor of the high-rise, after his dot-com investments had made him rich, but before he had separated from the army. He’d wanted a place far away from Texas and his father, and the Pacific North-west had felt right. Since he did the majority of his work on a computer, he could work from anywhere. His only real regret was living so far from his brothers.

  He sipped his beer and gazed out across the sound at the pleasure boats skidding across the water. If the weather held, maybe tomorrow he’d take the Sea Breeze out, catch a few fish, and call Matt to brag. Ordinarily this time of year, Matt and Torie would be traveling the world on one of their so-called Great Adventures, but this year they’d nested down in Brazos Bend to await the birth of their baby. Matt had been downright obnoxious about the good striper fishing at Possum Kingdom Lake of late when he and Mark had last spoken. He deserved to be score-boarded over pounds of fish caught.