“Did I get it all?”
“Sounds right to me.” Lark stood and cleared her place. “I’ll be right back, and we can go get Gabby. Then we’ll come back here and talk about how to get to Kolanko, right?”
Neither man said anything, but she took it as agreement because she walked out of the room without waiting for their response.
Jason forgot about keeping his head down and watched her a little too long. Matt banged his coffee mug on the table.
“What’s going on between you two?”
Jason thought about protesting, for about half a second. No one knew him better, and it would be a pointless insult to lie to him. But he didn’t know exactly what to say. I had hot sex with your daughter about six times and every time she touches me I want to take her up against the wall. There was, of course, much more to it than that, but that was all Matt would hear. It was all Jason would hear, if Lark were his daughter.
Lark returned to the kitchen, saving him.
“What, you two just sat there? Come on! Put your dishes in the dishwasher and let’s go.” She waited until the men stood, then headed toward the front door. “I’ll start the car and get the A/C on, it’s a roaster out there already,” she called back.
Jason waited, Matt stared. Finally, Matt said, “I’ll let it go for now, but I know there’s something going on. Don’t make me have to kill you when I just brought you back.”
Jason followed Matt to the sink and waited while the older man put his dishes in the dishwasher, as instructed. Matt took Jason’s plate and mug from him and dropped them in the racks.
“I don’t want this hanging over us while we clear up this situation,” Jason said. “I’ve only known Lark for four days.”
“You’ve known her for ten years.”
“Not like this.”
Matt squared up with Jason. “Like what, exactly?”
Jason held up his hands, but what defense did he have? “You’re my best friend. I could tell you she’s a grown woman who makes her own decisions, but you know that. I could tell you I won’t touch her, but it’s too late.” He forced himself not to wince when Matt clenched his fists. “I can’t tell you I love her when I don’t know for sure, and she deserves to be told first. All I can tell you is that you are my best friend, and I never want to do anything to damage that.”
Matt glared at him, then relaxed, rubbing his forehead with a rueful laugh. “You’ll understand someday, Jase, what it’s like to have a daughter. Instinct tells me to protect her. But I think you’ll do a better job of that than I can.” He clapped Jason on the shoulder and headed for the front door. “Don’t tell Lark we had this conversation. She’ll crucify me.”
Jason agreed, but knew that wasn’t the end of it.
* * *
Gabby’s discharge was slow, and she wasn’t a very patient patient. Lark and Jason were calm enough, sitting next to her bed and trying not to tell her much about what was happening, which didn’t help her mood. It was Matthew pacing in the hallway, though, that drove her nuts.
“Matthew, will you settle?” She stood in the doorway to her room, wearing the jeans and soft blue T-shirt Lark had brought for her to wear. Little shocks of pain swept over her whenever anything touched her skin, giving her empathy for what Jason had been dealing with. But her energy level was normal, and the skin on her lips less chapped. They were better off today, at least physically, than they’d been twenty-four hours ago. How could she be anything less than cheerful?
“I’m calm,” Matthew tried.
“You are not.” She came out and leaned against the wall, snagging his arm to halt his pacing. “Tell me what’s going on. I don’t think it’s just the Isaac stuff.”
He stood where she’d stopped him but avoided looking at her. Now that they were out of danger, she expected him to put her off. To tell her she might have gotten the wrong idea, that he was going to fire her to try to keep her safer and hey, have a nice life. But instead, he looked mournfully into the hospital room at Lark and Jason.
“I don’t know what to do about them.”
Her eyebrows climbed a centimeter before her sunburned forehead protested. She smoothed her features and tried not to peer around the doorjamb. “What do you mean?”
“They’re—involved.”
It had been so obvious to Gabby the other day that she hadn’t thought to be surprised by it. “So?”
He focused on her, frowning. “What do you mean, so? She’s my daughter.”
She laughed, part of her marveling at her ability to, when three days ago she’d barely been able to talk to him, never mind make fun of him. “Matthew, do you really think Jason is a worse boyfriend than that Carl guy who sold her out to Isaac? I was listening,” she explained. “I was drowsy from the pain meds, but I heard you guys catching each other up last night.”
“No, I don’t think Jason is worse than Carl. I just—”
“Have a problem thinking of your best friend in bed with your little girl. I understand.”
He scowled. “Thanks for the imagery. I was successfully keeping it at bay.”
“Sure. Then why are you pacing?”
He pursed his lips, still watching through the doorway, his hands propped on his narrow hips. “He’s ten years older than her.”
“A nonissue. Ten years is nothing, especially as young as they are.”
“As—” He finally focused on her. “How old are you?”
The sunburn was good for one thing, anyway—covering the blush creeping up into her face. She adjusted her scratched glasses. “I’m thirty-nine, which you know very well.”
“Actually, I didn’t know that.”
She scoffed. “You did a thorough background check before hiring me. You knew.”
“Well, maybe. If I did, I forgot, since you look and act so much younger.”
Gabby folded her arms, both flattered and affronted. “Anyway. It’s meaningless with these two. They’re in similar places in their lives.”
“Okay, then, there’s the distance. Lark’s in Boston, she has a contract with BotMed, and Jason’s…here.” He swallowed hard, and Gabby’s heart melted.
“Jason won’t leave Hummingbird,” she said, because to say “leave you” would have made Matthew too vulnerable and sounded too feminine. But it was the truth.
“Maybe that’s worse.” He rubbed his forehead again and his shoulders slumped. “If something happened to Jason, with this situation or any other in the future, Lark would be hurt. I don’t want that.”
Gabby took a deep breath and tried not to worry that he was applying the same logic to them. To do that would assume he thought of her that way, and he’d given no real indication that he did. “Anyone can get hurt at any time. There’s no way to guard against it. Even keeping your heart locked up, away from everyone, doesn’t prevent pain.” She pressed her fingertips to his chest, hoping he got the message. “I think Lark would regret doing that, or seeing someone she loved do it. I know I would.”
Okay, maybe a little heavy-handed, but even though she had the courage now to face her feelings head-on, Matthew had far too many things to be worrying about to add to them. Romance—either his own or his daughter’s—should be low on the totem pole. She dropped her hand and stepped away.
“Don’t worry about your daughter. Just worry about the task at hand and deal with that later.”
He looked down at her, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “That’s good advice.”
“Of course it is.” Her heart fluttered, and she knew it would show in her eyes. She looked down the hall and found escape. “There’s my doctor. Let’s get me out of here.” She strode down the hall, aiming for determination on the outside but on the inside weeping with longing. An edge came through when she pushed the doctor to sign her release paperwork, which maybe was why he did it so fast. A few minutes later, she was out the door.
She listened to the others planning in the truck on the way back to Matthew’s house, and in his offi
ce there, and later, during the dinner she’d prepared over protests by the others. She felt fine, except for the tender skin and a residual headache that kept surging. There was no reason she couldn’t prepare dinner, especially since she had nothing to contribute to the discussion.
Not that it stopped Lark. Gabby played with her potatoes and admired how Lark just jumped in, despite her lack of training and experience in this area. If she felt uncomfortable sharing her thoughts, or inferior to the experts, it never showed. Gabby wished she could be that way. Even in her own realm, where she knew how good she was, she didn’t have the confidence to portray herself the way Lark did.
“You okay? Gabby?”
It took her a minute to realize Jason was addressing her. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”
“You’re not eating,” he pointed out.
She shrugged. It would be silly to say she wasn’t hungry after their ordeal, when Matthew sat beside her inhaling the pot roast and mashed potatoes and was on his third helping of asparagus. “The hospital filled me up.” Liquid protein wasn’t tasty, but it did appease the hunger.
Matthew placed his hand on the back of her shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” She shoved to her feet and picked up her nearly full plate. “I’m going to go do the dishes.”
“No,” Lark protested, starting to rise. “You cooked. I’ll—”
“You’re needed in here.” She managed not to say “apparently” or to allow snideness into her tone. It wasn’t their fault she was worthless.
A few minutes after she’d entered the kitchen with an armful of dishes, Jason joined her with the rest of them.
“Thanks, Jason.” She sorted the items into the sink, dumping the silverware into a tray, and started stacking glasses in the top of the dishwasher. When she turned back to the sink for more, she bumped into Jason, knocking a glass out of his hand. Before it could smash on the tile floor, he caught it with the other hand and a roguish smile.
“What are you doing?” She snatched the glass from him and shoved it into the rack where it would be safe.
“I’m helping.” He handed her two more glasses.
“I’m fine out here alone.” She placed these with a little more care, trying to ease back her emotions.
“I know. Lark and Matt needed a little father-daughter time.”
“Oh.” They worked together in silence for a little while, finding an efficient rhythm that filled the machine in a few minutes and settled her riled emotions at the same time. Jason moved to the sink and squirted soap into the roasting pan, then started scrubbing the mashed potato pot.
“You think they’re talking about us?” She grimaced and turned away to find a dishtowel in a drawer. She’d meant to say “you,” not “us,” but hey, it was out there, and she had no doubt Jason had always known about her crush on Matthew.
“Me, definitely, though I won’t be surprised if Lark brings you up to deflect attention.” He handed her the pot and started on the baking pan she’d heated rolls on.
“No one needs this stuff right now,” she muttered, setting the dry pot aside. “I mean, life and death trumps crushes.”
“I don’t think so,” Jason said mildly. He handed her the baking pan. “Love makes life and death matter.”
Gabby dried in silence, thinking. Stakes were much higher when you loved someone. Keeping them safe from harm, protecting them from pain, sure, but also taking more care with yourself, because getting back to that person was just as important, if not more, than the job you were doing.
Or something like that.
“Do you think I have a chance?” Jason asked.
Gabby laughed. She’d been about to ask the same question. “I think Lark is a strong-willed woman who will get what she wants. Assuming it’s what you want, too.”
His mouth quirked, but he concentrated on scrubbing the roasting pan. Gabby put the other pans away and watched him. “What about me?” He took a deep breath before answering. She saw it, even though he tried to hide it by scrubbing the bottom of the pan extra hard. “Never mind. I don’t want to hear it.”
“No, you do. Have a chance, I mean.” He turned on the water to rinse the pan. “I didn’t think so before, but things have changed. A lot of things have changed. It’s just—Gabby, if he’s going to be charged with treason, he’ll want you far, far away from him.”
Which meant tonight might be her last chance, she realized. Enough with the flittery mouse. She was going after what she wanted, what she needed—what she deserved. Tonight.
Jason sneezed.
“Oh, my God!” She dropped the towel on the floor and lunged at him. “Oh, no. No. I can’t believe I was so stupid!”
“Wha—?” Jason backed away from the hand she flung at his forehead, laughing. “What are you doing?”
“I exposed you, Jason! Don’t you remember, I told you when I released you from the lab—”
“It’s not a lab,” he corrected, still laughing.
“Shut up! I told you how compromised your immune system is. That you need to be careful.”
“I have been, Gabby, don’t worry. It was just a sneeze.”
“There’s no such thing as just a sneeze. We were in the same car together, with whatever I had. You carried me!” They hadn’t determined how sick she’d really been, if her symptoms were reactionary or viral. The fever had disappeared with the IV hydration, so she’d assumed the former. But she should never have taken a chance with Jason’s health, never. Even if she hadn’t made him sick, he’d been at the hospital with her. He could have been exposed to anything there.
“Let me feel your skin!”
Jason finally stood still, chuckling. “You’re feistier than I ever gave you credit for.” He let her press her hand to his forehead, then the back of his neck. His temperature seemed normal.
“Have you been stuffy? Sniffling? Coughing? Eyes burning, trouble breathing, anything?”
“No!” He turned back to the pan. “I’m as healthy as I was when you discharged me. From the lab,” he teased, but she wasn’t in the mood. She snatched the roaster from him and rubbed the towel vigorously over it.
“It’s not funny, Jason. Pay attention. If you have any more symptoms, tell me. Immediately.”
“Yes, Mom. Seriously,” he added when she glowered at his teasing. “I won’t mess around. I know it’s important.”
Gabby headed upstairs to the guest room, appeased but abandoning her plans to seduce Matthew tonight. Because maybe she could overcome all his fears and protectiveness and caution. But one thing was certain.
She’d never have a chance with him if she killed his best friend.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I know Jason’s job is just as dangerous as yours. For God’s sake, I’ve been living it for a week. It doesn’t matter!”
Acceptable Risks Page 29