“I was a dick last night,” he said. “I’m sorry for putting the moves on you. It was dumb, and a really crappy way to repay you for all your help.”
It wasn’t quite the eloquent, articulate apology he’d had planned, but it was out there now and he would have to make the best of it.
Her smile faded. “You don’t need to apologize. It was a misunderstanding. Crossed wires. No one needs to be doing the whole mea culpa thing.”
“It was still a dumb-ass move. You’ve been really great, helping me out with everything. Trying to make it something else was...dumb.”
“Honestly? I was a little curious myself.” She glanced at her shoes briefly. “I wouldn’t have been in your pool in my bra and panties if I wasn’t. So I apologize if I sent some mixed signals. Apparently all your prettiness went to my head for a few seconds.”
Seth studied her. He knew at least a dozen women who would have taken his apology and run with it, but that wasn’t good enough for Vivian. No, she had to step up and own her part. Because that was who she was, honest and fair to a fault.
“I’m not sure you should be letting me off the hook,” he said slowly.
“It was probably bound to happen, sooner or later, given our history.” She made a helpless gesture with her hand. “But the bright side is, we both know where we stand now, right?”
“Yeah.”
He didn’t miss the not-so-hidden meaning beneath her words. She was drawing a line in the sand, letting him know she wouldn’t be jumping into his pool in her underwear again in the near future. Which was probably just as well. His life was complicated enough.
She shut the hatch, the thunk echoing. “I should let you get back to Dennis and Melissa.”
He was aware that the debt he owed her grew larger by the hour. About the only thing keeping pace with it was his growing awareness of how much he liked her. On every level.
“Thanks for saving my bacon. Again.”
“I happen to have a great fondness for bacon.” She patted his arm in what he could only describe as a friendly manner and slid into her car. The window slid down as she started the ignition. “I meant to say, I have a gorgeous cashmere throw blanket that would be perfect for Daisy’s room. I’ll leave it with Jodie or drop it by when I get the chance.”
“Thanks. I’m sure she’ll love it.”
“Look after yourself, Seth.”
He watched as she reversed and drove off. Despite the many other things he’d had to worry about, last night had been weighing on him, and it was good to know that they were okay.
He glanced toward the hospital, aware of a bone-deep reluctance to go inside. It said something that he’d rather broil beneath the harsh sun than have to deal with Lola’s heartsick parents. But he couldn’t avoid reality forever. Letting his breath out in a long sigh, he headed for the main entrance.
Dennis and Melissa were still with Lola when he returned to the ICU, sitting by her bedside, their red eyes and set faces revealing the depths of their grief. He wondered if, like him, they had recognized that Lola—the essence of her, the spirit of her—was no longer in residence in the body. Over the past few days, everything about her had diminished. Her skin had sunken into the bones of her face, her complexion had turned grey. Modern medicine was keeping her alive—breathing for her, feeding her, ensuring wastes were eliminated—but the spark of life that made Lola Lola was gone.
“We’ve got a few minutes until the doctor’s due. Do you want to come see Daisy?” he said.
Melissa nodded mutely, and Seth took them to the nursery and introduced them to their grandchild.
“Oh,” Melissa said, one hand pressed to her chest. “She looks exactly like Lola as a baby. Exactly.”
Seth stood back and watched them brighten as they hovered over the crib, both refusing to touch her until they’d changed out of their travel clothes.
“She’s not quite as small as I thought she’d be,” Dennis said. “I was expecting one of those tiny babies, like you see on the news.”
She seemed more than small and frail enough to Seth, but he knew what the other man meant.
“They tell me that she should catch up with the full-term babies weightwise over the next few months,” he said.
“Lola is going to love you so much, little one. She’s going to adore you.” Melissa rested a hand on Daisy’s blanket, her voice thick with emotion.
They headed to the ICU afterward, quiet settling over them like a shroud as they neared Lola’s bed. Dr. Patel was waiting for them, a frown on his face as he studied a printout. Seth hoped like hell it wasn’t more bad news.
“Dr. Patel,” he said, causing the other man to look up. “This is Dennis and Melissa, Lola’s parents. They just flew in.”
“Of course. We’ve spoken on the phone. I’m very sorry to be meeting you under these circumstances,” Dr. Patel said in his deep, throaty voice.
They exchanged small talk for a few minutes, then Dr. Patel guided them to the nearest meeting room.
An hour later, Seth led a shattered Dennis and Melissa to his car.
“Someone’s going to be a little uncomfortable in the backseat for a few minutes,” he said apologetically. “But your motel is only a few kilometers up the road, so it shouldn’t be too bad.”
He’d offered to put them up as his place, but they’d wanted to be as close to the hospital and Lola as possible.
“I’ll take the back,” Dennis said.
“Nonsense. You’re as stiff as a board. I’ll sit in the back,” Melissa said.
Seth couldn’t help but squirm as he watched her fold herself into the small space. Vivian had been joking about swapping cars, he knew, but maybe he should have taken her up on the offer.
Melissa’s cramped posture provided much-needed comic relief as he drove to the motel, with Dennis checking on her welfare every few seconds and Melissa responding with ever more effusive descriptions of how comfortable she was. Even as he laughed along with them, Seth recognized it as a necessary release after the discussion they’d just had.
Dr. Patel had been kind but very clear as he outlined Lola’s condition. Successive scans had detected no activity in her brain, and Dr. Patel and a colleague had examined her in detail. They’d both reached the same conclusion—Lola was clinically brain-dead, unable to even breathe on her own without the ventilator. Dennis and Melissa had asked questions and held out for hope, but Dr. Patel had been unable to provide it. Yes, he knew there were miracle stories of accident victims who had woken from years-long comas, but Lola would not be one of them. She had suffered catastrophic trauma to her brain as a result of the closed head injury, and there was no possibility of her recovering. At all. He’d gone on to state that he understood he was asking them to accept a painful truth, and encouraged them to do whatever they deemed necessary for their peace of mind, including procuring another opinion. Once they had satisfied themselves, they could discuss the next step.
Turning off Lola’s ventilator.
Seth spotted the sign for the motel ahead and signaled to turn. The moment the car was stationary and the hand brake on, he shot out of his seat and flipped it forward so he could extract Melissa from her cramped quarters.
“I’ll see if I can borrow my brother’s car tomorrow,” he said as he watched her stretch.
“It’s a beautiful car,” Melissa said, her gaze sliding over the TT’s curvy profile before turning to study him. “It suits you.”
“Did you want to go back to the hospital tonight?” Seth asked as he and Dennis hauled out the luggage.
“I’m not sure. Neither of us slept much on the plane. We might be better served getting a good night’s sleep,” Dennis said.
“Well, I’m going back to give Daisy her evening feed. Call me if you need anything, otherwise I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at nine-thirty.”
“That sounds fine,” Dennis said. He extended his hand, and Seth shook it.
“You’re a decent man,” Dennis said, his thr
oat bobbing sharply. “We appreciate all you’ve done for Lola and little Daisy.”
Seth didn’t know how to respond, so he settled for manhandling their bags into the foyer before bidding them both a good night’s sleep.
Then he was alone in his car, and he could let himself feel the full horror of the news that Dr. Patel had imparted.
Lola was going to die. His little girl would never know her mother. He didn’t want to even begin to think what that might do to a kid.
His chest hollow, he put the car into gear and headed back to the hospital and the only bright thing amongst all this tragedy.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE CLOCK ON Vivian’s dash showed five past eleven when she stopped in front of Seth’s on Saturday morning—and yet there was no sign of her sister’s car anywhere.
Perhaps something had come up with the kids. No doubt she would be here any minute now.
Any minute.
Vivian glanced toward the house, aware of a cowardly urge to circle the block rather than go inside where it would be just her and Seth until her sister arrived. Whenever that might be.
You signed up for it. This is the sort of thing supportive friends do, after all.
It was. And she had already decided that she would do whatever she could to help Seth and Daisy. Yet it was hard to let go of the instinct to protect herself.
The too-loud ring of her phone made her jump. Her sister’s number filled the screen, and she started talking the moment Vivian took the call.
“Sorry. I’m running late. I’ll be there in about twenty, okay? Did you bring those platters we talked about?”
“Yep. And I’ve already been past the bakery,” Vivian said, preempting what she knew would be her sister’s next question.
“You’re the best. Okay, have to go. Jason got called into work and I need to drop Max at swimming. Grrrr.”
The dial tone sounded before Vivian could say anything else. The curtains were still drawn at Seth’s so it was impossible to tell what was going on inside.
Twenty minutes. She could do twenty minutes alone with Seth without anything untoward happening. Anyway, they wouldn’t really be alone, because Daisy had come home last night. Hence today’s celebration.
She got out and retrieved the platters, then girded her loins and headed for the front door. She could hear a baby crying as she approached, which relieved her of the quandary of how loud to knock.
The door opened almost immediately after her knock, revealing Seth wearing a harried expression, Daisy cradled in one arm. He wore faded jeans and a white T-shirt and looked better than anyone had a right to with a couple of days’ worth of scruff on his jaw, and hair that had clearly not seen a brush or product in the past twenty-four hours.
“Hi. Sorry about the noisy welcome,” he said, gesturing for her to come in.
“Jodie’s running a little late,” she explained.
“No worries.”
“How did your first night go?” she asked, leaning forward to get a better look at Daisy.
Her face was screwed up as she gave vent to whatever frustration or discomfort ailed her.
“Hey, little one. Is it nice to be home?” She had to raise her voice to be heard over the screaming.
“We got about three hours sleep. On and off.”
Vivian pulled a face.
“Yeah. I’m hoping she’ll have a nap before everyone gets here,” Seth said.
“Murphy’s Law says that she’ll be out the moment everyone arrives.”
“Probably, but I’ll still call it a win if she gets some sleep in.”
“True. I’ll just dump these in the kitchen,” she said, already heading in that direction. “There’s more stuff in the car that needs to come in.”
“I’ll get it. Is the car unlocked?”
“Is that your cunning way of passing me a screaming baby, Anderson?”
“I thought whatever it is might be heavy.”
She slid the platters onto the counter and turned to find him wearing a mildly amused expression as he rocked Daisy in his arms.
He was barefoot, rumpled and clearly tired, but the sight of him holding his daughter so tenderly made her chest warm.
“A bunch of miniquiches and savory tarts? Hardly. But I’ll have a cuddle. I have a feeling she’ll be in high demand, so I should get in while I can.”
She approached him, slipping her hand beneath Daisy’s head, her other hand sliding beneath her body as Seth offered his daughter to her. Once again she felt a warm rush of...something as he passed over his precious burden. Sensing that something had changed, Daisy ceased crying for a moment, her gaze searching Vivian’s face in confusion.
“It’s okay, sweetheart, Aunty Vivian’s got you.”
Daisy’s face crinkled into worried lines as she began to cry again, and Vivian tucked her into the corner of her elbow and rocked her gently. “Poor bubby. You’ll be all right.”
A few soothing pats and rocks were enough to calm Daisy and she subsided into confused silence. Vivian smiled at her.
“See? It’s not so bad. We’re all good.” She glanced up to find Seth watching her with a frown on his face.
“What?”
“How come you don’t have one of these? You obviously like kids.”
“For the same reason you didn’t until recently.”
“Because you’ve never accidentally knocked someone up?”
She rewarded him with a wry look for his smart mouth but chose not to respond, hoping he’d simply drop the subject.
“I find it hard to believe that there hasn’t been a guy who wanted to make babies with you.”
“You’re not great at taking a hint, are you?”
“Apparently not.” He crossed his arms over his chest, signaling his intention to wait her out.
She continued soothing Daisy, trying to decide if she wanted to tell Seth about Franco. On one hand, it wasn’t something she liked to rehash, but Seth didn’t look as though he intended to let it go anytime soon.
“I lived with someone in L.A. for a few years. We talked about babies. But we didn’t agree on how things might work.”
“Define things.”
She gestured impatiently. “He wanted me to stay home and be a full-time mum while he did the provider thing. And I didn’t want to give up my career. He didn’t understand why I would choose work over a family, I couldn’t understand why it had to be a choice. I’m sure you can see where this is going.” She shrugged, wishing she’d stuck with her policy of ignoring him and hoping he’d go away.
“Had this guy never met you?” Seth’s tone was incredulous.
“What is that supposed to mean?” She narrowed her eyes. If he made one reference to her supposed party-girl past, he was going to be walking funny for a week. At least.
“You love what you do. Who in their right mind would try to take that away from you?”
She was so surprised by his answer that for a moment she could do nothing but blink.
“I suppose he gave you a vacuum cleaner for your birthday, too,” Seth said, shaking his head. “Don’t quote me on this, but sometimes I can fully sympathize with the feminist movement.”
Probably she shouldn’t feel quite so shaken that Seth understood her so easily, so clearly. It wasn’t exactly a news flash that women were as attached to their careers as men—this was the twenty-first century, not the ice age. Yet she’d lived with Franco for two years and he hadn’t been able to comprehend that her sense of herself was as tied up in her work and her creativity as his was in his career.
Seth, however, got it without even trying. But then he’d always got her, hadn’t he? Just as she’d always got him.
“I hope you at least broke the knuckle-dragger’s heart when you walked out on him,” Seth said.
She wished.
“It was kind of the other way ’round, actually.”
There was a strange expression on Seth’s face when she glanced at him.
“D
on’t tell me you’re still in love with the caveman?” he asked.
“No. Of course not. It’s heading toward two years. He married someone else last March.”
Seth watched her closely. “Did you fantasize about storming the church and screwing it up for him?”
She smiled faintly. “No. Like I said, I’m over him.”
“You don’t look over him.”
There was a gruff note to Seth’s voice. In another man, she’d be tempted to diagnose it as jealousy. But this was Seth. He’d never had any claim on her—or any designs, for that matter.
Well, unless wanting to sleep with her again counted, and, under the circumstances, she was pretty sure it didn’t.
“I’ll always have a soft spot for him. He’s my one that got away, you know? Even you must have one of those.”
“I thought I was your one that got away.”
She laughed. “You were my lucky escape. My disaster waiting to happen.”
“Let a guy down gently, why don’t you?” He played wounded for all he was worth, but for a split second there was a look in his eyes that gave her pause.
Surely he hadn’t been serious...?
She tried to discern the truth, but his expression was again impenetrable. Then she reminded herself of whom she was talking to—Seth, the guy she’d had sex with in the back of a limo more than a decade ago. The same guy who’d gotten a twenty-four-year-old bar bunny pregnant and who had made a hobby out of avoiding commitment.
As if he considered their long-ago liaison anything more than what it was. The notion was laughable.
Or the worst case of wishful thinking she’d ever encountered in her lifetime.
“You going to hold up your end of the bargain or what?” She gestured with her chin toward the front of the house. “Those quiches aren’t going to march themselves up the driveway, you know.”
“First she crushes me, then she dismisses me.”
He headed for the door. She paced with Daisy while he was gone, jiggling her some more and trying to understand why she’d volunteered all that stuff about Franco. No clear answer had come to her by the time she registered that Daisy was on the verge of sleep, her eyes heavy as she blinked up at Vivian.
Her Kind of Trouble (Harlequin Superromance) Page 14