“But…”
She sighed. “I’m scared too. What if we try to make a go of this and things don’t work out?”
Coldness tightened a ball in his stomach.
“I don’t want to lose you,” she went on. “You’re the one person I can count on. No matter what.”
“You’ll always be able to count on me. Even if things don’t…” He stopped and cleared his throat.
“See? You can’t even say it. Even if things don’t work out.” She paused. “Because they might not.”
He buttoned his jeans and then laced his hands at the back of his head. “Or they might. Don’t get all Doomsday Annie on me, will ya?” He meant the words to be teasing, but she frowned.
“Says the one person who knows exactly how much I’ve been hurt over the years. You can’t fault me for trying to be careful.”
“It’s me,” he said. “You know me. You know I’d never hurt you.”
She sighed and looked at the light reflecting off the walls.
“It’s not worth trying?” he asked. “You’re going to write us off before we even get a chance?” He’d kissed her, touched her, felt her quiver in his arms, only to have the possibility snatched away less than ten minutes later. It made Mick’s heart ache.
“That’s not what I’m saying.” She tried to reach for his arm, but he pulled it away. Every touch burned him with desire. “Please.”
Just then, his radio burst to life with a rat-tat of static and broken conversation. He grabbed it from his hip, turned, and walked back into the dining room without another word.
CHAPTER 8
“I gotta go,” Mick said to the room. The donkeys snuffled in the corner. One chewed a branch of the Christmas tree, not seeming to mind the red glass ornament draped over its nose. Gabe had propped a flashlight on a table where the three men now sat, illuminating a game of cards.
“A call?” Finn asked as he shuffled the deck.
“Yep. MVA on the exit ramp. Two cars and a tractor trailer.” His stomach clenched. No injuries reported with that motor vehicle accident, but the calls rarely reported those over the radio. It would be up to him to assess who needed attention at their small town Medical Center and who might have to be airlifted to the hospital up in New Haven. He hoped the helicopters wouldn’t have to fly tonight. They’d have near-zero visibility in a storm like this one.
Mick grabbed his coat and looked around for his gloves. “Ah, hell.” He grabbed the left one from the mouth of a donkey. Thumb nearly chewed off. Terrific. He tossed it aside. “You got an extra pair I can borrow?” he asked Finn.
“Of course.” Finn got up and produced a heavy pair of black gloves from behind the bar. “You be careful, okay? Haven’t seen a plow go by in the last hour.”
“I will. Truck’s got monster snow tires, and it’s only two roads out of town to the highway.” It was also almost ten miles. In this weather, it might take him a half-hour or more to get there.
Annie took his arm. “Please be careful.”
Mick looked down at her. It took everything he had not to lose himself in those green eyes filled with concern. He gave a short nod. She’d be concerned about anyone in Lindsey Point, in the middle of a blizzard. But she’d made it clear she wasn’t concerned about him as a boyfriend, or potential lover, or someone who’d just made her come up against the kitchen wall of the Great White.
“I’ll be fine,” he said as he turned away. If she didn’t want to try to make things work, then he wouldn’t either. He wouldn’t push. He’d keep his distance and be the good friend he’d always been.
And right now, that good friend was going out into the storm to take care of someone else.
* * * * *
As the door shut with a hard rattle, Annie climbed back onto a barstool. “Any Merlot left in that bottle?”
Finn poured her a new glass and pushed it over. He pulled a tap of local brew for himself and then filled a glass of water for Julia. For a few minutes, no one spoke. The men resumed their card game, each with a pint of beer beside them.
Annie turned the stem of the glass in her fingers. Her pulse hadn’t quite returned to normal. I wish we’d had more time to talk about things before he left.
“So,” Julia said as she adjusted in her chair. “Looks like winter storms can do crazy things to people.” She gave Annie a sideways glance, and suddenly Annie wondered how much the others had heard. Her face flushed, and she took a long drink of wine. It wasn’t like she and Mick had knocked all the pots and pans off the shelves. But they hadn’t kept entirely quiet, either. She crossed her legs. Mick’s hands on her...and his tongue...and his fingers... She hadn’t ever imagined he’d be so skilled or that any man could make her orgasm with such speed and intensity.
“‘Bout time the two of you got together,” Finn said, as if reading her mind. He lifted his beer in approval.
Brady gave a sober glance but said nothing.
Annie squirmed. “It’s not what you think.” She looked at Julia. “Not that I know exactly what you think. But I have a pretty good idea.”
“Did it involve getting hot and heavy next to the coffee pot?” Finn asked with a wink. “‘Cause it kind of sounded like –”
“Stop,” Annie said as she covered her face with one hand. “I don’t need to know what you heard or what it sounded like.” One of the donkeys brayed from the corner. She glanced up. “And it doesn’t mean we’re, like, together.”
“No?” Finn said. “Does he know that?” He took a long swig of beer. “Underneath the tough-guy exterior, Mick’s got a pretty sensitive heart. Hope you don’t break it.”
Annie didn’t answer. That was what she feared. Either his heart or hers or maybe both wouldn’t emerge unwounded if they continued down this path. “I’ll be careful. I’ll try, anyway. It’s just…complicated,” she finally said.
“Let me guess,” Julia said. “You and Mick have been friends for a long time. Grew up together, suffered through middle school and prom and the loss of your friends in the plane crash, and going off to college and watching other friends get married and all that.”
“Mm hmm.”
“You don’t want to do anything to jeopardize your friendship. It’s good, solid, and reliable. You can tell him anything, and vice versa. And even if you kissed him, and even if that kiss rocked your socks more than you expected, it doesn’t mean things should change.”
“Exactly.” Annie shot Finn a look. At least she understands what I’m trying to say.
“But let me play devil’s advocate for a minute,” Julia went on. She rubbed her belly and shifted in her chair.
Annie’s fingers tightened on her glass.
“What if it’s more amazing than you could ever imagine? What if this is the man, the relationship you’ve been waiting for, and you let it pass you by because it’s scary to think about taking the risk?” She smiled and glanced over her shoulder. “I wasn’t interested in Gabe when we first met. We were kids in college, taking the same General Bio class. He sat one row behind me the whole semester. It took him until December to ask me out.”
“You’re telling this story again?” Gabe asked. He sipped his beer and laid down three kings and two tens. Finn harrumphed. Brady swore and scooped up the cards.
“I am,” Julia said. “It’s a good story. It has a happy ending.”
Annie smiled. “So did you go out with him? When he asked?”
Julia laughed. “Nope. I told him if he wanted to stop by the study session my friends and I were having in our dorm, he could.” Her hand spiraled over her belly in wide circles. “He did. And he ended up staying all night, ‘studying.’” She made quotation marks in the air with her fingers. “We stopped talking about Biology around midnight. After that, we just talked about other stuff. Our families. And how we both ended up in Boston even though we grew up in different parts of the Midwest. Nothing happened that night, by the way,” she added. “He left around four in the morning, and I crashed, and I didn�
��t see him again until the spring semester.”
“And then you got together?”
“Not then either. We were best friends for the next three years of college. Took a lot of the same classes, even rented a house off campus with four other friends.”
“And nothing ever happened?”
Gabe groaned from across the room. “You have no idea…”
Julia winked. “Poor baby. A couple of late nights, it almost did. You know, too much to drink, loopy with exhaustion, the only two people awake in the house, but I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I thought if we tried and failed miserably, I’d lose the one person in my life who knew everything about me, and who I could tell anything.”
Annie sighed. “Since you two are about to have your third child together, I have a feeling I know where this is going.”
Julia winced as another contraction twisted her body. “The morning of graduation he came up to my room. Told me he’d been in love with me since freshman year and couldn’t stand it anymore. He had to know if there was a chance I felt the same.” She smiled. “Then he grabbed me and kissed me until I didn’t know which way was up. And I – we – decided to give it a try. I didn’t want to lose him,” she added, “and I knew I might, because he was deciding between graduate school in Boston and California. If I said no, he would’ve gone to the west coast, and there was a chance I’d never see him again.”
Annie turned and looked into the storm. She wasn’t sure she faced the same kind of risk with Mick, but she didn’t know, did she? She’d always assumed they would live in the same town and have the same circle of friends, no matter what direction their adult lives took. She didn’t plan to leave Lindsey Point. But what if he did?
Annie glanced at Finn. “We don’t ever think people are going to leave. Not here, or not of their own choice, anyway.”
“Not our friends,” he agreed.
“Does Lucas know how you feel?” she asked. “About him going to New York?”
He shrugged. “We’re not a couple of women. We don’t talk about our feelings.” He downed his beer as the wind picked up again. The donkeys shuffled their feet and made soft whistling noises in the corner.
“How do you feel?” Julia asked. “I’m sorry. I know I’m a stranger and it’s really none of my business.”
But amid the candlelight conversation, with the snow falling steadily outside, she didn’t seem like a stranger to Annie anymore.
“Lucas has been through a lot,” Annie said, trying to explain the complicated way their lives wound together.
“You ever hear of Sophie Smithwaite?” Finn asked.
Julia shook her head.
“She’s a travel reporter,” Brady said as he inspected his cards. “Right? Used to do a show about small towns.”
“A-yep.” Finn jabbed a thumb at the dark outside. “She came here a few years back and ended up digging into the history of our lighthouse. He and Sophie fell in love. She’s great,” he added. “Everyone loves her.” His face darkened for a second.
“But she’s the reason Lucas is moving,” Julia said. “And you resent her for that.”
“Resent is a strong word,” Finn said. “I hate to think I’m that kind of guy. But yes, they’re moving to New York City for her job. Not for his.”
“Do you think he’ll be happy?”
“I don’t know. I can’t tell. Lucas is hard to read, and he never talks about shit like that.” Finn shook his head. “He’ll be with his family, so maybe. Probably. It’s just that he’s my best friend. We’ve gone through everything together.” He stood abruptly, dumped the remainder of his beer in the sink, and began washing out the glass.
Annie’s heart squeezed. “It might not be forever. They might come back,” she said over the splashing water. “In the meantime, try to be happy for him.”
Finn’s shoulders tightened, but he turned around. “I am trying. You just can’t tell.”
Annie reached over the bar and squeezed his huge bicep. “You’re surrounded by people who love you. Aubrey, your sister, your niece and nephew, all of us. You’ll be okay. And Lucas isn’t going to the other side of the country, or the other side of the world. You could visit him. We all could. We could make a weekend of it.”
Finn sighed. “I know. I’m being a jackass. I just don’t do well with change.”
Just then, Julia’s glass fell from the table and rolled across the floor. A trickle of water followed it.
“Oops,” Annie said as she jumped from her stool. “Let me get that.” She reached for a stack of napkins, but the squeak that came from Julia stopped her. “Are you okay?”
Julia stared at her, then at Gabe. When she spoke again, her voice trembled. “I didn’t spill that. Not from the glass, anyway.” Her face went white, and when Annie followed her gaze to her lap, she felt the blood leave her own cheeks.
“Is that –” She didn’t want to believe the dark stain spreading down Julia’s legs.
Julia nodded, and her breath caught in her throat. “I think my water just broke.”
CHAPTER 9
It was slow going on the roads, even with his heavy, reliable EMT truck and new snow tires. Mick fishtailed every so often, and he finally slowed to a crawl, staying right around ten miles an hour. His pulse thudded, ratcheting upward as the minutes ticked by. Every so often, a car passed him going in the opposite direction. He’d driven in worse weather; so had most of the people who lived in Lindsey Point. Travelers coming off the highway, though, and out-of-towners like Gabe, Julia, and Brady were a different story. They didn’t know how the country roads twisted and turned in the darkness.
He gave an updated ETA to his dispatcher, then toed the accelerator a touch more. Two cars and a big rig involved. He didn’t like the sound of that.
“Another crew coming in from Bluffet Edge,” came the dispatcher’s response, and Mick exhaled in relief. “ETA ten minutes or less.”
“Ten-four,” he responded. His fingers tightened and then loosened around the steering wheel. He couldn’t keep his mind on anything for longer than a few minutes except Annie. Her body in his arms. Her breath hot against his neck, and the sound of her coming. He grew half-hard again just thinking about it. Headlights appeared, and he edged to the right as far as he could. According to his calculations, he should reach the exit ramp in less than a mile. Drifts along the road already rose to over a foot, and the wind drove the snow in all directions, making visibility near zero. Still, he’d driven this road a thousand times. Maybe more. The headlights neared, and he realized with relief a plow truck bore down on him, clearing a single lane and spreading salt behind it.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he didn’t dare take it out to answer it. The plow truck passed, and darkness descended again. Mick turned his wipers to high and squinted into the storm. If anything, the weather had gotten worse since he’d left the Great White.
The Great White.
Annie.
His heart, all twisted up.
His phone buzzed again. Mick eased on the brake, reached into his pocket without looking, and turned it to silent. Then he toed the gas, willing the tires to find a place to grip. They spun, and the truck’s back end fishtailed. He tried again. This time they caught, and he inched his way forward. His lights cut the dark, and in his mind’s eye, he tried to picture how far ahead the accident scene lay.
Finally, half-obscured by snow, a sign for the highway appeared on his right. He kept going, the speedometer barely reading above zero. As he eased around the final curve, a uniformed figure appeared in front of him, covered in snow and waving its arms. Just beyond, Mick saw a black SUV, ass end up in the ditch, and a small red two-door car on its roof a few feet away. Looked like the tractor-trailer had jackknifed halfway down the ramp and sent the other two vehicles skidding out of control. Two police cruisers blocked traffic from the highway, and the Bluffet Edge ambulance idled next to the red car. Mick pulled up behind the SUV, turned on his emergency lights, and jumpe
d into a foot of snow.
“What do we have?” he yelled at the closest paramedic. Without waiting for a reply, he grabbed his supplies, bent his head into the snow, and set his mind to rescue mode. Everything else went away.
* * * * *
“He’s not answering,” Annie said. She hung up without leaving a message. Of course he’s not answering. He’s in the middle of a blizzard on his way to an accident scene. Still, she stared at the phone, willing him to respond.
Julia moaned, and Annie dropped her phone onto the bar. Finn stared at her, face pale. Annie dropped to her knees in front of Julia and patted the woman’s legs in comfort. “Guess you can tell your doctor those contractions weren’t Braxton Hicks after all.”
Julia gave her a small smile as Gabe wrapped his arm around his wife. His brow furrowed in concern.
“How long was your first labor? With your twins?” Please tell me it was long. Twelve hours at least. With a drawn-out labor, they could make Julia comfortable and wait for Mick to return. Or wait for the storm to pass so they could drive Julia to the Med Center themselves. The last thing any of them were prepared to do was deliver a baby in a bar. Annie pushed away the image of that awful red F yet again. Failing one exam doesn’t make you a failure, she told herself. If you had to, you could do it. But part of her didn’t want to listen.
“The twins were early,” Julia said, her voice tight. Another contraction gripped her, and she held her belly with both arms. “They came a few hours after my water broke. Maybe four or five.”
Annie pulled a tie from her pocket and put her hair into a ponytail. Julia’s response almost didn’t matter, because every birth was different. Four hours last time might be twenty-four hours this time. Or it might not. She pushed up the sleeves of her sweater. “Let’s start timing the contractions,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. She looked up at Gabe. “Can you set the stopwatch on your phone?”
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