Slowly she turned, her clothes clutched against her body with trembling hands. “Let me make this crystal clear to you, Mark. I don’t want or need Bob’s help and I most certainly don’t want or need yours, either. I am fine, and I will continue to be fine. On my own. The way it’s supposed to be.”
He opened his mouth to protest, but shut it as she continued, her voice, her demeanor, taking on an icy quality.
“And just in case it’s unclear, being on my own is the way I want it to be.”
Chapter Ten
Emily pulled into the parking lot beside Perk It Up and cut the engine, the only tangible remnant of her morning a dull ache above her eyes that more than served her right. She’d been a fool giving Mark a second thought, and an even bigger one for giving him a chance at her heart.
But it wouldn’t happen again, that was for sure.
Leaning forward, she peered into the rearview mirror for any sign of the tears that had birthed the headache, aware of the trouble she’d be in if Kate suspected she’d been crying. Then again, she could always pin her red-rimmed eyes on the aches and pains that had racked her body all morning long.
A rap on her driver’s side window made her jump.
“Would you stop checking yourself out in that mirror and get moving, already? I’m in desperate need of my jumbo size mocha latte. Now.”
With a quick swipe of her hand through her hair, Emily grabbed her purse from the passenger seat, mustered the best smile she could and met Kate on the walkway that led to their favorite coffee shop. “Long morning?” she joked as they headed inside for their weekly get-together that had been a tradition since they graduated from college.
“Long night, long morning, take your pick. It’s all kind of blending together at this point.” Kate swept her hand toward the seating area. “Why don’t you get us a table and I’ll get our drinks. That way there won’t be an issue finding a table. You want your usual?”
Emily considered saying no and asking for a simple glass of water, but knew it was best just to nod. Any deviation from normal where Kate was concerned was too risky. Especially today, when Emily was one funny look away from screaming at the top of her lungs until the men in white suits arrived to cart her off to some padded room somewhere.
No, her best chance of getting through the next hour was to act as normal as possible and keep control of the conversation, steering it toward innocuous subjects like work, Kate’s favorite reality show, Joe and the status of Kate’s baby-making quest.
Selecting a table beside the large plate-glass window, Emily peered out at the comings and goings of downtown Winoka. Everywhere she looked there were couples—teenage couples, young married couples, elderly couples, and everything in between. It was as if the only way people got from point A to point B in this town was by holding hands and stopping every few feet to make googly eyes at one another.
It was maddening, really. A little nauseating, even.
“You do realize I’ve been climbing the walls ever since you left the barbecue last night, don’t you? I think I checked my cell phone close to a hundred times before Joe finally hid it in his den somewhere.” Kate paused beside Emily’s chair and studied the bold black initials snaking their way down the seam of both foam cups. “Okay, here you go, this one is yours.”
Claiming the empty lattice-back stool across from her, Kate perched on the edge and widened her eyes, waiting. “Well? What do you have to say?”
Emily looked from her to her coffee cup and back again. “Oh, yeah. Sorry.” With an appropriately timed cringe, she remembered her manners. “Thanks for the coffee, Kate. I’ll pick them up next week, okay?”
Her friend shook her head and laughed. “Nice try.”
Slowly she lifted her cup to her mouth and took a sip, Kate’s gaze never leaving her face. “What? What am I failing to say?”
A squeal from her friend took her and the rest of the patrons in the coffee house by surprise. “I want to hear everything. And by everything, I mean everything. Don’t leave anything out. Not one single, solitary thing.”
“That last sentence was rather redundant, don’t you think?” Emily set her cup back on the table and wrapped her hands around it. “But really, Kate, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Pushing her own cup to the side, She leaned in. “You know, I told Joe you were going to do this. In fact, I think I nailed your line almost verbatim.” A pause for reflection gave way to a slow, yet self-satisfied nod. “Actually, you know what? There’s no almost about it. I got every last word with the exact same inflection and everything. Wow. I’ve really got you down, don’t I?”
“Kate. Would you knock it off, please? I have absolutely no earthly idea what you’re babbling—”
And then she knew.
There would be no time-killing conversation about her upcoming fall classes, no stories starring Joe as the perfect husband, no idle chitchat about the latest fashion trends being worn about town that day. And there would be no graphic details about Kate’s ovulation cycle or the number of times the happy couple did it during the primo thirty-six hour target that month.
No, the conversation had already been picked out for them hours earlier, when she’d made the mistake of bringing a male guest to Kate and Joe’s barbecue....
“You do realize I could sit here and give you all sorts of grief over you having gone out to dinner with this guy and his son days ago and never saying a word, but I won’t. I could also give you all sorts of grief over your failure to call and fill me in on everything when you got home last night, but I won’t. Part of being a good friend is patience and understanding, right? Which, technically, I gave you by not bugging you for details until now.” Kate grabbed her cup and took a big sip, fanning her mouth as she did. “Ow. Hot.”
“There’s nothing to tell, Kate.”
“You have pizza with a super hot guy, bring him along to my barbecue and then forget to call me with all the deets afterward, and you expect me to believe there’s nothing to tell? Are you nuts?”
Pushing away the image of Mark’s bare chest as it rose and fell above her body countless times throughout the night, Emily addressed her friend’s inquiry as quickly and succinctly as possible. “Look, I saw him and his son at the beach when I was kayaking. I let him take Seth out in the kayak for a few minutes, and they tipped over. Seth was fine because he had on Floaties, but I swam in and got him nonetheless. To thank me, they took me out for pizza. No big deal.”
“Most no-big-deals don’t look at a woman the way yours looked at you last night,” Kate said.
Emily lifted her cup, only to set it back down as her hands began to tremble ever so slightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Mark wasn’t looking at me in any special way last night.”
“Oh, no? Then I guess every single one of my friends who commented to me about the two of you last night was imagining the same thing I was?”
“And what was that?” she asked, exasperated.
“That your no-big-deal is more than a little hot for you.”
Hot for her.
She couldn’t help it—she laughed. It was either that or cry. And she knew if she opted for the latter, she wouldn’t be able to stop anytime soon. “I think you and your friends all need your eyes checked.”
Kate took another sip. “It sounds to me like you’re the one who needs your eyes checked. I mean, c’mon, Em. That guy couldn’t keep his eyes off you. And when you talked…either
to him or with one of us? He listened. And I mean, really listened. As if the words coming out of your mouth were the most fascinating things he’d ever heard.” Kate eyed her across the lid of her cup. “Are you really going to sit there and tell me you weren’t aware of that?”
Emily pulled her hands from around her own drink and dropped them into her lap. She’d revisited Kate’s barbecue innumerable times that morning, reliving many of the things her friend was spouting. Of course she’d seen the looks Mark had sent in her direction. Of course she’d been aware of the way he listened when she spoke. And yes, she remembered every single minute of their time together. But none of that erased the cold hard facts.
Kate released a long, dreamy sigh through pursed lips. “I mean, Emily…really. Mark turned heads last night. Happily married heads, I might add. And it wasn’t just because he’s good-looking. A lot of it was because of how attentive he was to you.” A quick laugh gave way to a faraway look. “He was gentle and kind and funny, and so helpful with everything where you were concerned.”
Emily glanced up. “Helpful?”
“He carried your plate out to the Adirondack chairs, didn’t he? He opened the door for you every time you went in the house, and picked up your horseshoes after every round you played.”
Before she could fully process everything Kate was saying, her friend continued on in a voice that had suddenly grown more hushed. “He really seemed to care about you, Em. Like he’d do just about anything you needed him to do, if you’d only let him.”
Instantly, she remembered being in his arms, the sensation of his hands on her face so strong in her mind that she could actually feel them.
“I mean, you’re so wrapped up in this stupid nightmare you keep having about being a burden that you’re missing the possibility of what could very well be right in front of your face. In an extremely attractive package, I might add.”
“Stupid nightmare?” Emily echoed.
“Yes. A stupid nightmare. I mean, come on, Em. Don’t you realize how silly it is to let some recurring dream keep you from the one thing you’ve wanted since we were little?”
“I wanted lots of things when we were little,” she reminded Kate before slipping off her stool and tossing her nearly full cup into a nearby trash can. “And I’m living them right now.”
“Not all of them.”
“I’m living the ones I have control over.”
Kate grabbed Emily’s hands and held them tight. “No man who has a clue what you’re worth would ever shy away from you because of the MS. It just wouldn’t happen.”
She clenched her teeth and muttered, “Oh? You don’t think so?”
“Of course I don’t. Joe doesn’t, either. You just need to let the right guy see the true you—without that silly nightmare clouding the picture. The rest will fall into place. We’re sure of it.”
Emily weighed her response as she gathered her purse in her hands and hooked it over her shoulder, her desire to hide her hurt superceded by a need to make things clear. “Then perhaps it’s not your eyesight that needs to be checked, but rather, your intuition. And if you have Joe’s checked, too, maybe you can get a discount. You know, a check-one-check-the-second-for-free kind of thing.”
It was Kate’s turn to protest. “Why are you being so negative? This isn’t like you.”
Closing her eyes, she counted to ten, praying for patience and something resembling civility.
“Are you going to let your diagnosis make you shut down Bucket List 101?” Kate challenged.
Emily opened her eyes as she hit five. “Of course not. You know better than that.”
“Then why would you let it keep you from finding someone special? That makes absolutely no sense to me, Em!”
“Then let me spell it out for you, Kate. Living my dream with Bucket List 101 affects me and me only.”
“That’s not true. What about Trish?”
Emily rolled her eyes. “Trish is nineteen. She’ll be married in a few years. And once she and Tommy have kids, she won’t be working anymore. But if I build a life with another person, this illness will affect him at some point, too. That isn’t fair.”
“And you think a guy like Mark couldn’t handle your MS?”
“I don’t think, Kate. I know.” She saw the way her friend jumped back at the anger in her voice, but she couldn’t help it. She’d had enough. Her head had come out of the clouds the second the neurologist had walked into her hospital room and uttered her diagnosis six months earlier. It was time for Kate’s head to come out of the clouds now, too. “So Mr. No-Big-Deal can find someone else to open doors for, and carry plates for, and pretend to listen to as if she’s the only woman on the face of the earth.”
Emily’s breath hitched as the tears she’d vowed she wouldn’t cry in front of her friend began to form in the corners of her eyes. “I just hope, for her sake, she has a super strong immune system, capable of withstanding the common cold and flu. Because if she doesn’t, she’ll surely be getting the Mark Reynolds seal of disapproval where it comes to him and his son.”
Kate’s gasp netted more than a few curious looks in their direction. “Emily! You can’t truly believe that.”
“Oh, no? Hmm. Do you know why I didn’t call you last night when I got home from your barbecue?”
“No…”
“Well, here are some deets for you, Kate. I didn’t phone because I didn’t go home after the barbecue.”
Emily lowered her voice, abruptly aware of the hush at several neighboring tables. “I took Mark to the office and taught him how to climb. We laughed, we joked, we had a great time. And then, when we were done climbing, I went home with him…and we slept together. When we woke up, I shared a few of my realities with him, only to have him essentially toss me out of his bed and his life. So don’t you dare sit there and tell me I can’t believe what I just said, because I can and I do.”
Stopping for a much-needed breath, she steadied her voice and her emotions until she could finally escape to the privacy of her car. “But no worries, Kate, I’m fine. I’d much rather live my life in a way that fits me. Besides, for what it’s worth, the days of wanting that fairy tale prince—from that silly picture I drew at your kitchen table a lifetime ago—to sweep me off my feet are long gone. And you know what? I’m okay with that. A-okay, as a matter of fact.”
A flash of pain skittered across Kate’s face. “But—”
“Because when it comes right down to it, I’d much rather walk on my own two feet than count on anyone else, anyway. It’s the surest way I know to get where I’m going, don’t you think?”
Chapter Eleven
Mark made his way through the house, turning on lights and fluffing throw pillows as he went, his ear turned toward the driveway for the sound of his mother’s car. For far too long, he’d sat in the gathering dusk replaying his time with Emily—remembering every smile and every laugh they’d shared.
Desperate for something to deaden the ache in his chest, he strode into the kitchen and over to the refrigerator, liberating a rare can of beer from the top shelf and popping the tab. Try as he might, he couldn’t get the image of her beautifully toned and naked body out of his thoughts.
One-night stands had never been his thing, even during his pre-Sally days. And last night, when he’d made love to Emily, that hadn’t changed. What, exactly, he’d thought they had or could have, he wasn’t sure, but he knew he’d wanted to see her again.
Yet all that had cha
nged the moment he’d heard Seth’s voice juxtaposed against the last photograph he’d taken of Sally and Seth together.
It didn’t matter what he thought of Emily. It didn’t matter how alive she made him feel or how perfect it felt to be inside her. He wasn’t a single man. He was a single father. There was a big difference between the two.
“Daddy?”
He placed his beer can on top of the refrigerator and met his son in the hallway, squatting down and holding out his arms. “Little man! You sure are a good tiptoer. I didn’t even hear you come in.”
Seth stopped just shy of Mark’s arms. “I didn’t use my tippy toes, Daddy. I even banged the door, but you were making that silly face.”
Dropping his arms, he studied his son closely. “Silly face? What silly face?”
“This one.” Seth leaned against the wall, opened his mouth a little and stared off into space, before breaking the pose with a giggle. “See?”
Mark had to laugh. “Oh, sorry. Daddies get distracted, I guess.” Then, opening his arms once again, he greeted his son in the way he’d intended before letting his thoughts stray to a topic best left in the shadows. “Do you have any idea how glad I am to see you, little man?”
It was true. Seth was the glue that kept his life together, the reason he got up every morning and came home from work every evening. Without him, Mark would be lost, his life empty of any real purpose.
Seth squeezed him with all his might, a curious aroma of Play-Doh and chocolate chip cookies clinging to his hair. “Gam wants you to wave before she leaves.”
Lifting his son into his arms, Mark made his way to the front door and blew his mom a kiss before locking up for the evening. “So did you make your castle with Gam out of that great big box you told me about when you called?”
Storybook Dad (Harlequin American Romance) Page 10