by Marie Force
Rosie’s eyes shifted toward the door. “He likes her.”
“Maybe,” Nathan said, “but he wouldn’t be friends with someone who doesn’t love you as much as he does, as much as we all do.”
“That’s right,” Ben said. “We won’t let him.”
Rosie smiled at her uncle.
“Did you have breakfast, Rosie?” Tess asked.
She nodded. “I had cereal with my daddy at six thirty.”
Ben winced. “Give the guy a break, will ya, kid?”
“Daddy says I get up with the chickens.”
Nathan laughed and smoothed a hand over her hair. “It’s a wonder he doesn’t fall asleep on the microphone on the nights he has to work.”
Smiling at the visual, Georgie stood up. “I’m going to take a shower. I want to get to the hospital.”
“Who’s going to take care of me while you’re gone?” Nathan asked with a petulant pout.
Georgie rolled her eyes. “Rosie, will you keep an eye on Uncle Nate for a few minutes? Make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble?”
“Okay, Georgie,” Rosie said, her expression solemn.
“Rosie’s in charge,” Georgie said to Nathan on her way out of the room.
“Let’s go check out the garden,” Nathan said, holding out his hand to his niece.
When they were alone, Ben turned to Tess, and before he could lose his nerve, he said, “You’re very beautiful in the morning.”
She stared at him.
“I’ve been sitting here all this time hoping I’d get the chance to tell you that.”
“Thank you,” she said, flustered, as she stood up and got busy clearing the cups and mugs from the table. When she reached for his mug, he took her hand.
“Do I make you nervous, Tess?”
Looking down at him, she contemplated him for a long moment. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Is it me? Or all men?”
“A little of both.”
Pleased that she trusted him enough to make that confession, he closed his hand tighter around hers. “You have nothing to fear from me.”
“That’s good to know.”
“I enjoyed being with you last night.”
“I did, too. With you, that is.”
Charmed by the color that flooded her cheeks, Ben said, “You know, this was the first morning since everything happened that I’ve woken up thinking about something other than my own litany of complaints.”
“Is that so?”
He nodded.
Without releasing his hand, she sat down next to him. “I was thinking about something you said last night, about your friend Greg.” She paused. “But if you’d rather not talk about it . . .”
“Tell me.”
She glanced down at their joined hands and then raised her lovely gray-blue eyes to meet his. The muscles in his belly quivered, and for the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt a surge of desire. He wanted her. The realization would have knocked him off his feet if he had been standing on them.
“What you said about the guilt you feel because he died and you didn’t?”
A muscle in his cheek tightened with tension. He didn’t talk about this. Ever. But there’d been something about her that had compelled him to share it with her the night before. “Yes.”
“Well, I wondered if maybe you found a way to tell his parents and girlfriend about what he said to you before . . . the accident—”
“You mean before he was murdered,” Ben murmured.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know the right way to say it.”
“You’re doing fine. Don’t mind me or the huge chip on my shoulder.”
Tess smiled. “Do you think it’s possible that if you told them his last thoughts were of them, if you could somehow tell them that, then maybe it might help you, too?” Her words poured out in a rush, as if she were afraid she would lose her courage if she didn’t get it out fast.
With his free hand, Ben rubbed at the stubble on his cheek and fought to swallow the huge lump in his throat.
She tilted her head as she studied him. “Ben? Are you all right?”
“Do you think they’d want to see me? Wouldn’t I be a reminder that their son died and I lived?”
“If I had a son who died the way theirs did, I’d want to know that in his last moments he was thinking of me and the life we’d shared.” She took his other hand and held on tight. “I’d want to know, Ben. Any mother would.”
Without taking even a second to debate the implications, he released one of her hands and caressed her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her. When she didn’t protest or push him away, he let his hand slide around her neck. Though he brought her closer, he kept the kiss chaste, despite the grinding need that pulsed through him.
“Does that mean you like my idea?” she asked with a small, private smile that warmed his heart. Her eyes, he noticed, were still focused on his lips—better there than on his lap, where she would find proof of just how badly he wanted her.
He nodded. “I like your idea. I like you.”
“I have to get ready for work now.”
“Can I see you later?” he asked, keeping his firm hold on her hand.
“I’m usually pretty tired after my shift, and I was up really late last night.”
“We don’t have to do anything special. Takeout and a movie?”
She hesitated but only for a moment. “All right.”
“There’s just one thing,” he said, looking away from her when embarrassment threatened to derail him. He brought his eyes back to meet hers. “I can’t pick you up, because I can’t drive yet. In fact, I might never be able to drive again.”
“Well, in that case, you’re in luck. See, I have a car, and since I drove you home last night, I know where you live.”
He smiled. “I like the way you say that.”
“So I’ll come by around eight?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Chapter Fifteen
Georgie emerged from the bathroom and heard Cat and Tess talking upstairs. With her hair in a towel, her mother’s robe tied tight around her, and hoping to get the scoop on Ian and Ben, she went up to see what they were talking about.
“What do you think, Georgie?” Tess asked.
“About what?”
“Show her, Cat.”
Cat came out of her room wearing a long, red print Gypsy skirt with one of her signature formfitting tank tops.
Georgie stared at her. She had never seen Cat in such a feminine outfit and was startled by the transformation.
“Don’t you dare laugh,” Cat warned her.
“Me? Laugh?”
“Just tell me what you think,” Cat said with irritation. “Does it look okay?”
“You look great,” Georgie said. “What’s the occasion?”
“She’s having dinner with Ian,” Tess said. “I said I’d rather see her in something shorter that shows off her fabulous legs.”
“I agree,” Georgie said.
“But I don’t have anything like that,” Cat whined. “And I refuse to go shopping for dinner with a guy I met yesterday.”
“I’ve got a few things that might work,” Georgie said.
“Really?” Cat said, brightening. “You don’t mind?”
“Of course not. What’s mine is yours.” Georgie smiled and added, “Are we really hanging out with three brothers?”
Tess winced. “I know. We’re like a bad cliché.”
“So what’s the deal? You first, Tess.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I like him. He’s gentle. He doesn’t let many people see that side of him, but I’ve seen it.”
“Nathan mentioned that he’s had a lot of problems since he got back from Iraq,” Georgie said. “I’d hate to see you hurt after everything you’ve already been through.”
“I would, too,” Cat said.
“I told her everything,” Tess said
to Georgie.
“Good. I’m glad she knows.”
“It’s nothing serious with Ben,” Tess assured them. “Don’t worry.”
“Same with me,” Cat said. “We’re just having dinner.”
Tess turned to Cat. “Can I ask you something?” she said tentatively.
“Sure.”
“What’s your problem with Rosie? She can tell you don’t like her.”
“No way,” Cat drawled, rolling her eyes. “She’s what? Three?”
“Almost four and very intuitive,” Tess said. “She can sense it.”
“Oh, please! Just because I don’t go all soft and misty over her the way you do doesn’t mean I don’t like her.”
“I didn’t go soft or misty,” Tess sniffed.
Cat looked to Georgie for confirmation. “Um, yeah, you did.”
“We’re not talking about me,” Tess said hotly. “And she may be only three, but she’s no dummy. If you’re going to hang out with him, you have to be nice to her.”
“I’m not hanging out with him. I’m having dinner with him, and you’re making me regret that.”
“All right, ladies, simmer down.” Georgie stepped between them. “I know you might not mean to, Cat, but you do put out the vibe that you don’t like her.”
“Exactly,” Tess said.
“I don’t dislike her,” Cat mumbled, clearly annoyed at being double-teamed.
“He’s done an impressive job with her all on his own,” Tess said.
“For sure,” Georgie agreed. “Let me get those skirts so we can see if one will work.” She went downstairs and returned a minute later with the clothes. A pair of high-heeled sandals dangled from her fingers.
Cat eyed the shoes with trepidation.
Georgie nudged her into her room. “Try them on.”
While they waited for Cat, Tess went into her room to slip on bright green scrubs and Reeboks.
Cat emerged wearing a black tank with spaghetti straps that showcased her fragile collarbones, Georgie’s denim miniskirt, the shoes and an expression of abject misery on her face. “I can’t wear this.”
Georgie and Tess stared at her.
“Holy smokes.” Georgie rubbed her fingers against her robe. “You’re a babe, Cat.”
“No kidding,” Tess said with envy. “Can I hire you to be my body double?”
“Shut up and get serious, will you? I’ll fall on my ass if I try to wear these girly shoes.”
“No, you won’t,” Georgie assured her. “You’ve got all day to break them in.”
“I don’t feel comfortable, though. He’s going to know that.”
Tess rested her hands on Cat’s shoulders. “Georgie’s right—you’re a babe—and Ian’s going to be so busy trying to keep his hands off you that he won’t notice you’re uncomfortable, believe me.”
“You really think so?”
“I know so,” Tess said. “Have a great time.”
Tess hugged Cat, and Georgie was relieved when Cat reciprocated. Apparently, no hard feelings lingered from their conversation about Rosie.
“Thank you,” Cat said. “Both of you.”
“No problem,” Tess said. “I’ve got to get to work, but I want to check Nathan’s arm first, so I’ll see you later.”
After Tess went downstairs, Cat turned to Georgie. “What do you think of her and Ben?”
“Just that Nathan has some concerns. He doesn’t know what we know about her, but he senses something’s up.”
“His cop radar’s getting a hit?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, we’ll have to keep an eye on her,” Cat said.
“Yes. What about you? Are you going to be okay?”
“Of course,” Cat snorted. “I hate all this chick shit.” In a high, squeaky, voice, she said, “Dating and guys and what should I wear. Ugh.”
Georgie laughed.
“You know what’s really bugging me? Ian reminds me of an actor or someone famous, but I can’t think of who.”
“Dennis Quaid,” Georgie said without hesitation.
“Yes! That’s it!” Cat laughed. “God, that was driving me crazy.”
“Happy to help.” Georgie moved toward the stairs. “Tomorrow I’ll need a full report on your night with Dennis.”
“Georgie?”
She turned back.
“You and Nathan.”
“What about us?”
“You know I’m on your side, right?”
“Of course.”
“It’s just that I can see how into you he is just by the way he looks at you. He’s a good guy, and I’d hate to see him get hurt if you aren’t as into him.”
Startled by Cat’s candor, Georgie had no idea what to say.
“I know it’s none of my business.”
“No, you’re right,” Georgie stammered. “I’m trying to keep some perspective, but he doesn’t make it easy. He’s so . . .”
“Adorable?” Cat asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.
“Yes! And persistent. How am I supposed to defend myself against that? I’ve told him I don’t want to get involved, but it’s like he doesn’t even hear me. And the more time I spend with him, the messier it gets. What am I supposed to do?”
Cat chuckled. “He’s practicing selective hearing—it’s a gift most men are born with. Let me ask you this: have you considered the possibility that he’s ‘the one’?”
“No,” Georgie said firmly. “I haven’t. I don’t want that right now.”
“Love doesn’t work on a schedule, Georgie.”
Georgie’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “Love? What does this have to do with love?”
“Maybe everything?”
“I can’t talk about it anymore. Have fun with Ian. You look amazing.” Georgie ducked down the stairs before Cat could reply and stomped into her room where Nathan sat on the bed.
“Uh-oh,” he said. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” She retrieved underwear and shorts from her dresser and slammed the drawers shut.
“Something happened.”
“Nothing happened! Will you please just—” She spun around to discover his face was once again ghostly pale. “What? What’s wrong? Is it your arm?” She dropped the clothes on the floor, crossed the room to him, and cradled his face in her hands.
With a sigh, he closed his eyes and hooked his good arm around her waist. “Tess did that thing with the syringe again. Hurts.”
Georgie felt all the starch leave her spine as she gathered him close to her.
They were quiet for a long time before he whispered, “You smell good.”
“So do you.”
Tilting his head, he gazed up at her.
“I’m sorry you’re hurting.” She shifted a hand to his forehead. “You’re warm again, too.”
“I just took some more pills.”
“Why don’t you go back to sleep while I’m at the hospital?”
He shook his head. “I want to be with you.”
Exasperated, she said, “I’d come back for you.”
“No need.”
“You should take it easy today, Nathan.”
“I will,” he insisted as he stood up without removing the arm he had around her. Leaning in, he touched his lips to hers. “I’ll let you get dressed.”
As the door closed behind him, Georgie flopped backward onto the bed, her hands fisted tight against her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry, she wasn’t going to let him get to her, and no matter what Cat said, she was not going to fall in love with him. No way.
After breakfast at a diner on Thames Street, they took his car to the hospital, but Georgie insisted on driving.
“I didn’t know it was possible for one person to eat that much in the morning.”
He patted his full belly. “I’m a growing boy.”
“No wonder why you run every day.” After a long period of silence, she glanced over at him. “Can I ask you something that’s probably none o
f my business?”
“Sure.”
“Why are you still single?”
“Don’t you mean—how is it possible that someone with my stellar good looks, charm, sense of humor, and overall sex appeal could still be on the market?”
He had nailed it perfectly, but she wasn’t about to let him know that, so she rolled her eyes. “Give me a break, will you, please?”
Laughing, he shrugged. “Just worked out that way.”
“You’ve never wanted to get married?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Fine,” she said, more annoyed with herself than with him. Why did it matter so much? If she allowed herself to contemplate the answer to that question . . . “Forget I asked.”
“There was someone once. I probably would’ve married her.”
“Except?”
“She died.”
Georgie gasped and took her eyes off the road to look over at him. “Oh God, Nathan. I’m so sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.”
But something in his tone told her the pain was still a big part of him.
Her head spun with questions, but she couldn’t seem to find the words.
“You can ask, Georgie,” he said quietly.
“No, I can’t. It’s not my place.”
He reached for her hand. “I met her during my freshman year of college, and we dated for a couple of years.”
Riveted by his softly spoken words, she pulled into the hospital parking lot, turned off the car and shifted in her seat to face him. “What was her name?”
“Ellen.”
Georgie bit back the litany of questions she wanted to ask and waited for him to comport himself.
“We were on Christmas break during our junior year, and we went to a party on Dixon Street. To get to the place, you had to go up a flight of outdoor stairs. When we were leaving, I ran back in to go to the bathroom and left her talking to some people on the landing.”
Georgie held on tight to his hand, her stomach knotting with anxiety.
“I was only gone for like two minutes, but when I came back she was crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, and the other people were gone.”
Georgie gasped.
“She was on life support for a month before her parents made the decision to let her go. I took that semester off from school and became totally obsessed with finding out what happened to her. Was she pushed? Or did she slip on some ice after the others went back inside?”