Meant to Be Mine

by Lisa Marie Perry

  Sofia was on the other side, sitting on the floor, her back flush with the concrete wall. Her head drooped to one side and her shoulders were slumped.

  “Hey, Sofia…” Stepping closer, lowering to his knees, he realized her chest wasn’t rising and falling in a normal rhythm. “Sofia!”

  Her eyes began to close as her hands weakly reached out toward him. “I—I can’t…Can’t…breathe…” Gasping, she crumpled and a tear slipped down one cheek.

  “Jesus.” He shot forward, taking her wrist in one hand to gauge her pulse and using his other hand to pat his pockets. “My phone. Where…where the hell did I put it?”

  He’d left it in his truck, plugged into the dash. If he’d gone directly to get his ride when her roommate had mentioned carting a load to the charity lot, he would’ve grabbed the phone then. He would have it now and could dial for help.

  Was it safe to move her? He didn’t altogether know what was ailing her, but if she couldn’t breathe it might not be a smart idea to do anything that would further restrict her lungs.

  And if the problem had to do with her heart…

  “I have to get you some help.” He squeezed her hand, wavering between getting up and taking the stairs three at a time and staying here with her hand in his because he was so fucking afraid of what might happen if he let her go.

  Her head shot from side to side. “Uh-uh. Stay.”

  How could he sit here and watch her struggle? But if he were to leave her and she lost consciousness—lost her life—alone in a tunnel, he’d die, too. Her pain was his. Hadn’t it always been that way?

  “I’m going to carry you upstairs and get 911 on the phone. You stay with me, all right, baby?”

  “Not…your baby.” The spark of defiance was carried out on a trembling exhale. She pressed one hand below her stomach and the other to her sternum. Another exhale, then those beautiful brown eyes opened again and found him.

  She inhaled through her nose and her stomach expanded, then came another shallow sigh. Her body appeared to relax then and her breathing grew stronger.

  A panic attack. She’d had one at the gas station convenience store the day of Luz’s funeral, but she had been able to stay on her feet and speak through it.

  “I’m getting you to the ER,” he told her.

  “No,” she protested, and seemed to test herself with a deep breath. “I’ll be okay. It was just a panic attack.”

  “Just a panic attack?” he repeated incredulously. “You were underground and alone and couldn’t breathe!” It had to be a jackass idea to raise his voice, but he couldn’t believe his ears. “I thought you were sitting here dying.”

  “I’m not.” As if to prove her strength, she started to get up but wobbled and promptly slid down with a thud.

  “Come here.” Burke sat beside her and scooped her off the floor, cradling her on his lap. She didn’t slap him or otherwise protest. She nuzzled her face against his neck and twisted her fingers in his hair. “I don’t think many people know this space exists down here. Who would’ve found you, if I hadn’t felt like a douche and gone searching for you so I could apologize?”

  “You can still apologize.”

  “I changed my mind. I don’t regret worrying about you. Never did.” She felt light on his lap, but his concern exaggerated her fragility. She was slim but strong, could be perceived as shy but was a cache of boldness. “Why’d you come down here?”

  “To think about you. You came down here to think about me.”

  “I went looking for you to say I was sorry for interfering with the armoire.”

  She was silent so long that he tipped her face up to make sure she was still okay.

  “I didn’t want anyone to see me fall apart, Burke. I hide them, the panic attacks. Joss knows, and she turns into a mother hen when they occur. But I can handle that. I don’t think I can handle being the sick, pathetic Mercer girl again.”

  “Fuck all that, Sofia.” When she sighed, he insisted, “No, no, listen. Say ‘Fuck it.’ Say it and mean it.”

  “Burke…”

  “Say it. There’s no one here but you and me. I won’t tell.”

  “Exactly how many more secrets do we want between us?” she said, and when her fingers slipped from his hair they detoured to his jaw and drew circle patterns across his scruff. “Abram and Hannah Slattery know about us. They think I’ve been rocking your boat.”

  Damn Abram. Burke had told him to mind his own business when it came to Sofia, but the man had been dogged. Losing her fourteen years ago had sent Burke to a unique level of hell on earth, and it’d been the cruelest fight of his life to tear himself free.

  “You didn’t laugh at my joke,” she pointed out.

  “Make light of this all you want, Sofia, but it’s not a funny situation. I asked Abram and his wife to leave it alone, and if either of them hassles you I need you to tell me.”

  “Don’t lose friends over me. He said you threatened to kick his ass if he talked against me. That’s some crooked chivalry.”

  “I meant what I told him. What’s between us isn’t their business. So, as I said before, repeat after me: Fuck it.”

  “Fuck it.” Her laughter felt like cool raindrops on a hot night. “Fuck it, I’m going to do what I think is best for me.”

  “You catch on fast.”

  “That includes taking a stand against you. Upstairs you acted as if you don’t trust me to know what is and isn’t good for my heart. It was mortifying.”

  “Hold up. Did I cause the panic attack?” Had his interference caused her harm? The notion made him feel suddenly queasy.

  Her hand drifted again, massaging into his neck and then settling on his chest. “No, it was Aunt Luz’s kitchen table. I knew I’d be sad to see it go, but when McGuinty and Abram put it on the truck, I lost my shit. The attack hit full force when I came to the hall…then you were here and I remembered to breathe.”

  “How can someone forget to breathe?”

  “I follow a set of breathing exercises to help me manage the more severe attacks. I’d blanked and then I was able to concentrate and recall the instructions. So thanks for having a guilty conscience and hunting me down.” She brought her face forward, her lips millimeters from his. “Meet me halfway here. I want to kiss you for helping me through.”

  “I want to make sure you’re okay before I start getting your pulse up again. I’m driving you to the hospital.”

  “Damn it, you’re doing it yet again. I know that I can handle how you make me feel. I know that I want to kiss you right now. Do you want me to kiss you?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  “Then let’s do this and be done with it.”

  “I swear, Sofia, that’s about as sexy as a sandpaper condom.”

  “The kiss will be much sexier,” she said, shifting on his lap, “I promise.” She covered his mouth with hers. Those full, tasty lips—and what he knew they could do for him—melted his strongest defenses.

  “Let me touch you,” he groaned into her, gliding a hand under her shirt and finding the graceful arc of her spine. He brought his palm around, skating on smooth skin and venturing north. “I want to feel your heartbeat.”

  “Feel me,” she agreed, “but don’t look. I don’t want you to see the scar.”

  Her scar. She’d referred to it as her “ugliness,” but how the hell could something that had saved her life be ugly?

  She didn’t try to guide him, but let him explore—and he let himself get lost, plumping one breast and then the other before he worked her bra down and could leave invisible fingerprints on her naked flesh.

  Sofia responded to his every maneuver, grinding her ass on his lap as he teased her nipples and kissed her lips. “Whatever you’re doing, I really like it.”

  “Some folks call it foreplay. I call it getting the most out of the moment. I want you to feel good when you’re with me, Sofia.” He felt good, that was for friggin’ sure. But he’d taken too much from her that morning on his bo
at, and now he had a mission to help her experience for herself the pleasure she intended to sell in a sex shop.

  I care about you, he almost said. In execution it’d sound like a cheap line that she wouldn’t believe. The attraction writhing between them was legitimate and he needed to let that be enough.

  For now.

  She hid her scar behind her clothes, hid her sexual hunger behind mannequins in a window, but eventually, he would bring Sofia Mercer out of hiding.

  Their lips parted and he traced a finger between her breasts, up the jagged trail of thick, knotted scar tissue. He wanted to see it, assure her it wasn’t ugly, but he’d given his word that he wouldn’t look, and he would kick his own ass before he violated that trust.

  “It doesn’t feel ugly,” he said plainly. “I’ve got scars, too.”

  “From fighting. This is different.”

  What had she been imagining, all these years? Schoolyard brawls? A teenage fight club? Did she define him as someone so out of control that he’d gone searching for split lips, black eyes, and fractured ribs?

  Yeah, it was different. Her scar was a result of a life-saving medical procedure…not violence.

  Laying his hand flat, he felt her heart pound quick and strong. Caught up in the moment, caught up in her, he whispered, “Losing you would’ve killed me.”

  He felt her slip away from him before she moved a single muscle. When she did retreat, sliding off his lap, fixing her clothes, and raking an arm across her mouth, she said, “I told Abram we weren’t together. Was that a lie? Can we be together, Burke?”

  “Casually, yeah. As friends, of course. But don’t rope me into more. It wouldn’t be good for you.”

  “That’s not your call.”

  “It is, though. Tell me something and be truthful about it. How many panic attacks have you had since coming back to town?”

  “A few.”

  “Uh-huh. And how many came on when I wasn’t near you?”

  “Uh…”

  “Sofia.”

  “None.”

  “That’s my point. Think it’s a coincidence that your health teeters when I’m around? I’m harmful to you. I’ve known for a long time that I’m no good.” She didn’t know all the hell he carried. He’d do anything to spare her heart the burden of his skeletons.

  “Stop it,” she whispered, getting to her feet. “You’d never hurt me.”

  “Not intentionally, but the fact is I trigger something in you that you can’t physically handle. I meant what I said earlier—it would kill me to lose you. As much as I want you, and damn it, you know I do, I can’t keep putting you at risk.”

  “Are you sure my health isn’t your excuse to justify walking away?” she challenged. “Hold me off, resist what’s good and real and permanent, then take off on your boat. That’s your plan, right?”

  “It’s worked out nicely for years. You wouldn’t be the first woman to step back because she can’t handle my career. It’s dangerous, the hours can be shitty, and sometimes I can be on the water for weeks. I’d never ask you or anyone else to shut up and like it. If you want to bail now, I won’t hold it against you.”

  “That does terrify me, but I’m not bailing. A career is one thing. Escape is something else altogether. I don’t think I can love you halfway—either I’m all in or I fold.”

  Love. That word sank him. “Don’t lay down some all-or-nothing ultimatum, Sofia. You might not like the answer you get.”

  “It’s not an ultimatum,” she said, turning to leave. “At the end, this road we’re on is going to split. We’ll go in the same direction or separate. We don’t need to choose now, but we’ve got to be prepared to deal with both scenarios.”

  “Every time we try to be apart, you end up in my arms,” he said, standing and leaving the hall on her heels. “I’m saying this, okay? I care about you so fucking much, and that’s why I’m telling you that when it comes to me, if you’ve got to choose all or nothing, let it be nothing.”

  “Message received.” But she sounded hurt, and that wasn’t what he’d intended to inflict on her. “To reiterate, though, you don’t dictate what I can and can’t handle. Don’t use my medical situation as your excuse to backpedal. Get your truck, haul a load, and you’ll be done with your good deed.”

  Burke let her jog up the stairs, hanging back because he had no response scratching to get out. There was too damn much truth in what she said. This was just a good deed. Even the worst class of man was capable of a rare selfless act.

  Burke would never be more than what he’d always been.

  A killer.

  *

  “Thank-you notes go a long way in interpersonal relationships.” Joss sealed the last envelope and placed it on top of the short stack on their distressed pedestal dining table.

  It was the day after their impromptu furniture-moving party. Paget had the day off at Shore Seasons and would unwind in the best way she knew how: headbanging at an indie rock festival at an amphitheater outside Boston. This morning Caro and her son had collected Joss for one of those hokey town tours as a crash course in Eaves 101. It had culminated in a whale-watching expedition, during which, Evan Jayne gleefully reported, Joss had heaved up a thirty-two-ounce grape soda and he’d lent her his LeapFrog learning tablet to cheer her up.

  Tish had kept Sofia company, her harness loops jingling as they walked through town on errands. Sofia worried that the dog might feel disoriented with so much sudden change, now that most of Luz’s furniture was gone. But when she tried to comfort the beast with hugs and smooches, Tish released guttural growls that spurred the thought Please don’t bite me.

  It might not be normal for someone to fear their own pet, but Tish’s assessing eyes rarely conveyed her temperament and Sofia was usually left guessing. Stranger than that, the Siberian husky was nonetheless a comfort…a friend.

  Now that Joss was home to keep an eye on Tish, Sofia could tackle the last of her errands: trips to the post office and the taffy shop.

  “Joss,” she said, for the first time realizing that her friend had placed custom seals bearing Blush’s logo on the backs of the envelopes, “where did you find these? They look great.”

  “I didn’t. I had them made across the street at the stationery store. I wanted to pop some business cards inside for a bit more publicity oomph, but you haven’t finalized the design yet.”

  “That’s still on my epic to-do list.” She gathered the envelopes, addressed to the individuals who’d come to help them out. Whether out of pity or kindness or a craving for sweets—or raw curiosity to see what a couple of newcomers living over a sex shop might be about—they’d saved Sofia time and money.

  “If we finish painting and restocking merch by next week, we’re looking at opening before the Fourth of July.” Excited, Sofia swooped down to touch her nose to Tish’s. “Can you believe it, you canine mean girl? This is happening!”

  Tish’s eyes were silver orbs that conveyed, Nothing would please me more than to piss on your floor right now.

  Sofia straightened and tucked the envelopes into her tote bag. “Joss, thank you. The cupcakes were a hit yesterday.”

  “What can I say?” She pretended to pop her collar. “I’m good at what I do.”

  “You are. Seriously. You’re helping me with the boutique and being the friend I need right now. I wish I could help you kick-start your dream.”

  “It’ll happen one day. I haven’t given up hope.”

  “One day might’ve come a lot sooner if my plan had panned out.” Sofia sat on the parson chair across from her friend. “As thrilled as I am to have you helping me out at Blush, I think you’re meant for something else—your own dream. I wanted you to have the opportunity.”

  “Thanks, Sof.” Joss patted her hand. “Burke may be hotter than any guy’s got a right to be, but when it comes to getting to know him, he really makes you work for it. Yesterday I tried to make small talk with him, but he couldn’t leave fast enough.”

&nbs
p; “Learning him’s not easy,” Sofia agreed. “But yesterday wasn’t something personal against you. He and I had a run-in.”

  “A run-in?” Joss repeated, as if the term was synonymous with sex. “Oh? Similar to the one you had on his boat?”

  “No.” She paused, reflecting. “Come with me. I want to show you something.” She led the way, and Joss and Tish followed her to the stairwell off Blush’s kitchenette.

  “I’ve been down here before, carrying extremely large boxes,” Joss said. “It’s a wonder I didn’t do a Jack-and-Jill tumble down these stairs.”

  “You haven’t seen this.” Sofia pried away paneling to reveal concrete and a steel door. “Remember, Caro and I figured out that all three basements on this strip are connected. Caro says Bautista had the bar sealed off, but the connection’s still there, just blocked. Years ago Burke and I used to sneak downstairs and hang out under the market or in this little passageway here.”

  Sofia and Joss crept into the hall but Tish wouldn’t follow. The air was cool, stale. It lacked the refrigerant scent of the air system that serviced the boutique and apartment. Concrete, cinder blocks, joists, and lumber—the space must look unimpressive to Joss. But to Sofia, it was purely beautiful.

  “No one caught you and Burke down here?”

  “Not once. Guess Burke’s dad and Luz didn’t look past the paneling.” She went to the spot where she’d sunk at the pinnacle of her panic attack. “Burke found me here yesterday. I had an episode.”

  “An episode. An attack? Oh, God—”

  “I’m fine now, promise.”

  “You haven’t had one of those in almost a year, I think, right?”

  “Joss, I’ve had a few since I came back to Eaves.”

  Joss lugged a cinder block over and sat. “Talk to me, Sof. Is this wearing on you—losing your aunt and gaining Blush? What about Tish? And Burke?”

  Change had assaulted her, hitting her without warning and at full velocity. But she wasn’t shielding herself from it—she was absorbing it, taking hold of it with open arms. “Getting rid of Luz’s things yesterday underlined that she’s gone, for good. It hurts and it scares me that she left it up to me to continue this life. But, my God, Joss, I really want this—the store, the apartment, and the dog.”