Worth the Wait (McKinney/Walker #1)

by Claudia Connor

  She should have expected it—of course he would be here. But she hadn’t thought, hadn’t prepared. How did one prepare?

  When she finally turned, familiar brown eyes met hers, knocking the breath from her lungs as decisively as a hard fall. There was shock in his eyes too, though he did a quick job covering it.

  On trembling legs, she stood and faced him, her chest squeezing. It shouldn’t be this way. It shouldn’t hurt after all this time. Why does it hurt?

  For a long beat, they only stared at each other. Time seemed to stop, and nothing else existed. The blood pulsed in her ears like ripples of the past. Her first and only love. Her first and only lover.

  She’d imagined this moment a thousand times in a thousand different ways. Nick would say he was sorry. Nick would come to her, run to her, say that he’d been wrong, that he hated how much time they’d lost. Instead he stood rigid, staring. His eyes that could say everything she wanted to hear said nothing.

  She thought maybe something crossed his face, a face she knew as well as her own, but it was swiftly covered and replaced by confusion. Then betrayal. Even anger. She imagined he was able to bring suspects to their knees with that look.

  “How—” He stopped, gathered himself, because Nick was nothing if not all gathered together. “What are you doing here?”

  “Mia’s a psychiatrist now,” Hannah answered before Mia could. “And my friend.”

  Nick didn’t move for the longest time, and she tried to breathe through the shock of it, seeing him and hearing him. More ripples. She swallowed.

  “You’re her doctor?” His voice was low, his eyes dark and fierce, potent as they had always been. Eyes that could warm and comfort or cut like ice. She knew both.

  She barely managed to speak. “Not her doctor exactly. I’m a therapist.”

  “How did this happen? She could have been in a serious car accident,” he said, turning on her. “She could have been killed!”

  The questions and accusations cut through her before she had a chance to say more. He didn’t look like he wanted to hear it. Still looking for somewhere to lay blame. Still finding her an easy target. But he was afraid, she could see that. Fear, the loss of control, never brought out the best in Nick.

  “Nick.” Hannah sat up straighter, reaching for his arm. “Stop it.”

  She should go, but before she moved, two more men entered the room. They had the same brown eyes and dark hair. Zach and Luke. Probably not the hospital scene they’d expected. Mia barely had time to see the men she’d once thought of as brothers before Nick went on. Ignoring his brothers, he focused solely on his sister. That hadn’t changed.

  “Is this the friend you met for dinner?” Nick pointed at Mia like a leper, like the enemy.

  “No.” Hannah paused. “That was Stephen.”

  Nick pulled at his hair, turned, paced a few steps away, then stalked back. “Am I the only sane person in the room?” Nick’s hot gaze was back on Mia now, his eyes full of accusation. “Did you know she went out with this guy? I looked him up. He’s got a violent documented temper, for God’s sake!”

  Luke leaned coolly against the wall, brows raised, assessing his brother. “A temper? Really? Hey, Mia.”

  Zach smiled, crossed to her, and pulled her in for a hard hug. “Good to see you.”

  “You, too. I need to talk to Hannah.” She looked at Nick. “Alone.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” Nick’s hard voice shot over hers and through her already-bruised heart. The same voice that had whispered “I love you” so many years ago. She had no defenses against him. She didn’t want to fight with him. She wouldn’t.

  He stood at Hannah’s side, as though he needed to protect his sister from her. That hurt, too. It all hurt, especially him looking at her the way he had ten years ago. Like he wanted her gone. His expression the same as he’d worn that night when she’d finally given in and given up.

  Ten years. Ten years and then to suddenly be this close, with him angry and her feeling guilty and Hannah hurt, not like last time, but still…it was too much the same, and she had to get out of here before she broke into a million pieces. “I’ll see if I can find the doctor and send him this way.” She squeezed Hannah’s hand. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

  “Thanks, Mia.”

  “Sure.” She chanced a quick look at Nick in case it was another ten years before she saw him again. Then she rushed past Luke and Zach and into the hall for some much-needed air. The hallway wasn’t nearly far enough, and her only thought was to get outside. Get to her car, blast some air conditioning, and cry where no one would hear her. She barely made it five steps.

  “Mia.”

  Her name on his lips stopped her so suddenly, she knew a part of her didn’t want to get away from him. The bland white and gray tiles at her feet stared back at her until they went blurry. She made herself face him, seeing the man he was now and the man he’d been. She’d spent so much time wishing for the way things used to be, when just Nick’s presence made everything all right.

  Her eyes burned with unshed tears as they roamed over his face. He looked the same. Maybe a few more lines around the eyes, his hair a little shorter. He wore khakis and a wrinkled dress shirt, sleeves rolled up the muscled forearms she used to trace her fingers over when he held her at night.

  She’d thought she’d gotten over him, that if she felt any pain when she thought of him, it was merely lingering ghosts from the past. But here he was right now, and she hurt right now. But she hadn’t cried over Nick Walker in a very long time, wouldn’t let herself now.

  He stared at her, not speaking. Funny how he could find the words to destroy her but none to put her back together.

  A nurse walked swiftly past. A call for a doctor repeated on the PA. The irony was not lost on her. What did it mean that they would see each other for the first time in a place they both hated, a place that held so many dark memories?

  Once, she’d been able to read every thought in his eyes. Once, he’d hidden nothing from her. Now his chiseled features and set jaw, brown eyes, and the dark brows drawn over them gave up nothing.

  She’d loved this man with every cell in her body, had believed nothing could ever tear them apart. But a deadly storm had come, and they hadn’t weathered it. There were still times she felt she was drowning. And Nick stood here, calm and remote, as he’d been the last time she’d seen him. Like a lighthouse off in the distance, tall and strong, completely unaffected by the rolling sea or the ship’s peril. Like he didn’t even remember what they’d had. Didn’t even miss it, or her.

  He took a step forward, lifted his hand just slightly, and she held her breath for what he might say. She hated herself for even thinking that after all this time it would matter. She didn’t still love him. Of course there were memories and feelings, but she didn’t love him. She wouldn’t.

  “Are you Mr. Walker?” A young man in a white coat stopped beside Nick, interrupting the moment.

  “Yes. That’s my sister.”

  “Great. I’ll just speak with her, then we’ll get you out of here.”

  Nick nodded, and the doctor moved past him. He turned his attention back to her, and they shared one last look before she walked away.

  She’d been so sure they could survive anything. She’d been wrong.

  * * *

  Twenty-two years ago…

  IT WAS THE SUMMER after Mia’s junior year when Nick finally met Mia’s parents. She’d told him they didn’t travel, so he hadn’t expected them to come to Virginia. Not wanting to go an entire ten weeks of summer break without seeing her, he’d suggested he fly to Boston for a few days. She’d been ecstatic, even if she sounded more than a little nervous.

  He arrived on a Tuesday evening at the little house on Broad Street. The house was split in half for two families, as was common in the area. Mia’s family was on the bottom floor. Old but spotless and smelled of garlic and candles. Everywhere he looked was lace and faded pictures. Mia had
described it to him, of course. They’d talked of her childhood often. Seeing it added another layer of understanding.

  Dinner was begova corba, a traditional meat-and-vegetable stew.

  “This is delicious. Now I know where Mia gets her cooking skills.”

  “Mia is for more than cooking,” her father said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “He cooks as much as I do,” Mia chimed in. “More even. But it’s nice to have a real kitchen and eat real food instead of cafeteria.”

  Mia’s father lifted his glass of wine. “So you’ve said.”

  He knew her parents weren’t happy about the amount of time she spent there, correctly assuming it wasn’t all studying. Not sitting on the couch with an acceptable two feet between them.

  “You have a child,” her father said shortly after they’d blessed the food.

  “His sister,” Mia answered quickly.

  “Yes, I know this, but still, a child to care for.”

  “Yes. I do,” Nick said, looking Mia’s father straight in the eye. “She’s four.”

  “A child is a lot. You will want a wife to help you.”

  “I’m doing okay.”

  “He’s doing great.” Mia squeezed his hand under the table.

  “Mmm.” Her father made a sound, and they went on eating. That seemed to end that discussion, for which he was eternally grateful.

  The rest of the dinner was amicable, mostly focusing on Mia and her studies. After dinner and before dessert, Mia helped her mother put the kitchen to rights while Nick stood outside on a small porch with Mia’s father.

  “She is in love with you,” her father began.

  Nick wasn’t sure how to respond. It didn’t sound like a question, so he agreed. “Yes. I think so.” It felt good that her father knew. Whether he’d seen it with his own eyes or his daughter had told him didn’t matter.

  “I would ask you not to marry her before she has reached her dream. I know that is a lot to ask of a man who wants to make a woman his, but… I am an old man, and I would ask it anyway.”

  “Mr. James, I’m not wanting Mia to marry me and keep house. We’re both still in school. I know she has dreams, and I respect those. She’s brilliant and giving. I love that about her.”

  “So you will not ask her.” He nodded sharply and laid a hand on Nick’s shoulder, his grip stronger than he looked. “That is good. And when the time comes, I will give you my blessing.”

  It was a lot to ask, but if they weren’t getting married, they could hold off on the engagement. It all seemed like a long way off. He was barely twenty-two and, like Mia, still had a lot of things to accomplish. He nodded. He saw no reason not to agree as long as the father’s wishes were in line with the daughter’s. “You have my word.”

  “That is good. We’ll go in now. You will like my Ana’s bourekas. Like you would say, turnover, with apples.”

  “I’m sure I will,” he said, and walked in ahead of Mia’s father, feeling like he’d passed the test.

  The turnovers weren’t quite ready, and while Mia’s parents huddled in the kitchen, very likely to discuss him, he found Mia in her old bedroom. It was small, much smaller than her dorm room as a resident assistant. A handmade quilt covered the bed. Lace curtains, the only frill in the room, hung over the windows. It was very Mia. Simple. Academic. He started to close the door, but she turned.

  “Don’t. Ma will just come by and open it.” She smiled, and he did, too.

  Her parents might be strict by many standards, but they loved Mia dearly, and he understood that. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed the side of her neck. “So I can relax knowing there haven’t been many boys in your room?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  He looked around. Everything was neat and tidy; only a globe sat on her desk. The shelf above held various books. Maps and posters of the human body covered one wall. A row of encyclopedias, actual hardcopies, leather bound, filled a small bookcase. The same ones he knew Mia and her father had often read at night.

  She turned, gave him a quick kiss, then sat on the edge of her bed. “My father spoke to you.”

  “Yes.”

  “And? What did you talk about?”

  “Oh, this and that.”

  “Nick.”

  He grinned. “You look nervous. Did you think I wouldn’t survive it?”

  She picked at a thread. “I don’t know. You’re still here.”

  “Of course I’m still here, and we did talk of this and that. But of course, it was mostly of you. He loves you very much.”

  “Yes. He does. Sometimes, I wonder if he loves me too much.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “I don’t know. I guess not. I’ve often thought, though, that if there’d been more children, especially boys, he wouldn’t be so… dependent on me, I guess. Maybe that’s not the right word.”

  “He made me promise not to ask you to marry me.”

  Mia’s eyes went wide with shock. “He what? Please tell me he didn’t say that.”

  “Not until you finish school.”

  “Oh. Okay. I never considered getting married in school. Did you?”

  He hadn’t thought that far ahead, not about specifics. He loved her, knew he wanted to be with her. “No. And I get where your dad is coming from. We talked about the future. He wants you to finish school, med school, before I tie you down, barefoot and pregnant, washing dishes.”

  Mia groaned. “Please tell me he didn’t say that.”

  “No. But I understand his meaning.”

  “Do you?”

  He rubbed at the worry between her brows. “Yes. We’re both still in college, but I let him know my intentions toward you were pure.”

  She laughed softly.

  “I didn’t give details, of course.”

  “Of course.”

  She sighed. “I’m sorry. He… he hasn’t had an easy life. He’s lost a lot of people he loves. I know, in a lot of ways, he feels he turned his back on his family, his culture, but he has a different dream for me.”

  “I understand. And I agree as long as it’s your dream, too. I want you to be happy. I want you to have your dream.”

  “And I want you to have yours,” she said quickly.

  “I know. Med school is—what? Six years?”

  “More like eight with surgical residency.”

  “Okay. Eight. And hopefully I’ll be in the FBI—”

  “Will be. Not hopefully.”

  “Maybe, but we have our entire lives.” He cupped her face. “I’m not worried.”

  “You don’t need to be. My heart is yours. You stole it, remember?”

  “Yes.” His lips curved against hers. “And I’m not giving it back.”

  “Good. I don’t want you to. I’m not giving yours back either.” She opened to his kiss as he caught the back of her head and held her there. He hadn’t kissed her since he’d arrived. It’d been way too long.

  Their tongues danced in a practiced rhythm while her fingers twisted the shirt on his chest. She always did that when she sank into his kiss, like a cat flexing its paw as it settled in. A dark thought about those years apart they’d discussed moments ago knocked at the edges of his mind, but he shoved it back, sliding his hand around her waist to pull her closer.

  “Mia?” Her mother called from the other room. “Come and sit.”

  “Coming.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, we had five minutes.”

  He gave her a quick kiss. “Maybe we can go for a walk later. You can show me the neighborhood.” He tugged her off the bed.

  “And let you pull me into the shadows?”

  “Exactly.”

  * * *

  THE WEEKS AND MONTHS had flown and turned into years, and Hannah’s first day of kindergarten had arrived well before he was ready.

  “Another pancake?” Mia asked.

  “No, thanks.” Hannah sat patiently at the kitchen counter while Nick finished the second long braid.
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br />   He wound an elastic band on the end. “Done.”

  Hannah pulled it over her shoulder to see. “Nick does it good.”

  “Yes, he does. He’s a pro.” Mia looked at Nick.

  Nick swung her from the stool. “Do you want ribbons on the bottom?”

  “Yes!” She raced halfway down the hall then turned back. “Pink or purple?”

  “Lady’s choice,” he called after her then turned to Mia. “Damn. When did this happen? And brush your teeth,” he yelled, then slumped against the counter.

  Nick’s expression was so pained. Mia came to him, touched his face.

  “God. Why did I think she was so big? She’s not. She’s too little.”

  “Come on.” She rubbed her hand over his back. “Hold it together.”

  “I’m holding it.”

  “Yeah, and that’s the third cup of coffee you’ve poured and left to go cold.”

  They both looked around the kitchen, and Mia smiled. It was cute that he was so nervous.

  “She should have a beeper, or a... hell, I don’t know.”

  “Nick, she’s five years old.” Mia slid her arms around his waist, looked up at him, her chin on his chest. “Millions of five-year-olds across the country go to kindergarten every year. She’ll be fine. She’s ready.”

  He sighed and wrapped his arms around her. “I know. Why is it that I’m not?”

  “You love her, and you’re a natural-born worrier. And…” She stretched up on her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  * * *

  IT SEEMED NICK BLINKED and Hannah was six. Then blinked again and Mia was days away from graduating.

  After a night of hot sex and sweet whispers, Mia and Nick lay reassuring each other of the future. They’d grown up together in the past four years. A lot of changing between eighteen and twenty-one, but their hearts were still as tightly wrapped around each other as their bodies were now.