If I Can't Have You

by Iris Morland

  Her blood turned to ice. Gasping for breath, she wrenched her arm from him. She felt tears building, but she forced them away. She would not cry in front of this asshole.

  "Mark doesn't care about that. And anyway, it's none of your business." She drew herself up, her chin lifted. "I'm going back to work. Don't bother me again or I'll call security.”

  She didn't wait to hear Derek's reply. When she found Janine minutes later, she was grateful her friend didn't ask her why her eyes were red.

  Mark stared at the two cats who sat in his living room window, their tails swishing in unison. He hadn't expected to see them this morning, if he were honest. He'd expected to see the cats—and Abby—long gone.

  One of the cats turned and gave him the evil eye, his whiskers twitching. Mark frowned.

  Why the hell hadn't she left?

  It was that thought that trailed him as he worked through the morning and afternoon. It was total deja vu from the day prior. Mark insulting Abby, Mark expecting her to leave, Abby staying. He asked Delilah about it, but she only snorted and demanded another nose rub.

  He seemed to be in a perpetual cycle of insulting Abby and then apologizing to her. Would he never learn not to insult her in the first place? He winced as he carried hay bales into the barn. Sweat dripped from his brow, and his arm ached. The day he got this damn cast off he'd throw the stupid thing into the fire with total glee.

  Mark fed the goats, who hopped around him and then tried to munch on his pant leg. One of the kids jumped onto his back when he bent down, which was how Charlie found him.

  "You got something on ya," Charlie said, laughter in his voice.

  Mark rolled his eyes. He reached back to get the kid, not wanting to dump it onto the ground, but the kid jumped off of him and scampered away. Mark winced, feeling the bruise forming from those sharp hooves that had dug into his back.

  Charlie didn't say anything else for a while as he helped Mark. Mark was thankful that his ranch hand wasn't chatty. He didn't want to talk about his guest, or the fact that he couldn't stop thinking about kissing her.

  That kiss had rocked his world. He hadn't known a kiss could do that; it had been like getting tossed into a whirlwind.

  "So I guess your lady isn't here?" Charlie asked as the two of them mucked out the horses' stalls. "I thought she was supposed to be here by now?"

  Mark grunted. Raking hay took twice as long with one hand, and he grew more aggravated with each passing moment. "She was here. She had to go to work."

  "Huh."

  Mark knew Charlie wanted to say something. If Charlie had an opinion, he'd tell Mark eventually.

  "Well, I keep wondering what the hell would possess you to ask a lady to come all the way out here just to do your laundry."

  "She's not doing my laundry," Mark groused.

  "Whatever it is you're having her do. Now, looking at you this morning, you look like you didn't get any sleep. I know your arm's been aching, but I know you. I know when you have something on your mind, and I'd bet my last dollar that it has something to do with this woman."

  Mark glared at Charlie. Wiping his forehead, he set his hay fork aside. "I'm starving. Want anything?"

  "I wonder if you know what you're doing at all."

  Mark felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. If he were honest, he'd admit that he'd wondered the same thing so many times it was like an endless loop in his brain.

  Charlie's face creased, his gray-streaked brows furrowed. "If you like this lady, then don't screw it all up."

  "Because that's what I always do?"

  Charlie shrugged. "We all do. We're just bumbling fools around women. Me included. But if she's causing you this much grief? Well, there must be a reason for it, I reckon."

  Mark felt Delilah nuzzle his shoulder, and he patted her absently.

  Hearing Charlie's words made him realize that he needed to let Abby go, even though the thought twisted his gut. He needed to tell her she could leave whenever she wanted without fear that he'd tell everyone about her lie. It wasn't enough that he knew he wouldn't say a word. Abby didn't know that.

  His stomach sank to his toes when he realized that she'd leave as soon as she could, but it was the right thing to do.

  Mark stroked Delilah's nose, feeling her hot breath against his neck. "She's totally screwing me up," he admitted.

  Charlie nodded. "She's a woman. Of course she is."

  Abby returned to the ranch that evening without knowing why she'd come back. Then again, she needed to collect her things and her cats if she were going to leave. That was what she told herself, at any rate.

  She heard voices coming from the barn, and then a man she hadn't met emerged. He was older than Mark, grizzled and tanned, like a man who'd worked his entire life outside. He tipped his hat to her, which made her smile.

  "You must be the lady Mark's told me about," he said as he extended his hand. "Charlie Leighton.”

  "Abby Davison," she replied as she shook Charlie's hand. "Do you work here as well?"

  "I help around, yeah. Keep Mark out of trouble, too." He winked.

  Right then, Mark came out of the barn, shaking his head. "If anyone's keeping anybody out of trouble, it's me keeping this guy out of trouble." His gaze collided with Abby's, and she caught her breath.

  They stared at each other for a long moment until the sound of a horse neighing broke the moment.

  Charlie assessed them both. "Well, it's probably high time I got out of here." He smiled at Abby, his look wry. "You keep this guy out of trouble while I'm gone, you hear?"

  "Of course. Nice to meet you, Charlie."

  Once Charlie drove off, it was the two of them, alone again. Mark stuffed his hands into his pockets while Abby wondered what she should say. Or could say. She waited for him to apologize, or to tell her to get off his ranch for good.

  Mostly she wished he'd kiss her again.

  Stupid. You don't need that kind of drama in your life.

  When a horse neighed again, Mark looked over his shoulder into the barn. "Let me introduce you," he said suddenly. He walked into the barn before she could respond.

  She followed him, curious. She inhaled the scent of hay and horses, sweet and pungent. She counted three horses, one of which was nosing at Mark's shoulder. She was a beautiful chestnut, and as Abby got closer, she saw that the horse was very pregnant.

  "When is she due?" she asked. She'd never been around horses, so she kept her distance.

  Mark smiled as he stroked the horse's muzzle. "In about a month. This is Delilah." He then pointed at a black horse, "That's Samson," and then he pointed to a gray horse, "And that's Rosemary."

  Abby came closer to the pretty chestnut. "Delilah, what a lovely girl," she cooed.

  "Let her smell your hand. There you go."

  Abby reached her hand toward Delilah, and when the horse mouthed at her fingers, she laughed. Delilah snorted and tossed her head.

  "She likes to be scratched right here. Yeah, that's the spot, isn't it?" Mark rubbed her, and her eyes closed in happiness.

  Abby petted her, surprised at how soft she was. "I've never ridden a horse," she admitted.

  "Never? Well, I'll have to teach you. Nothing as nice as riding a horse on your land."

  Watching Mark now, his face softened as he patted Delilah, Abby realized this was a side of Mark few people saw. The Mark that the world tended to see was a guy who was gruff and aloof. But if he were capable of caring for animals like this, it meant he possessed hidden depths.

  Her heart squeezed. She had to look away, concentrating instead on Delilah's dark eyes.

  "Here," Mark said as he handed her a carrot. "She loves carrots. Keep your hand flat so she doesn't accidentally bite your fingers."

  Abby obeyed, and Delilah began to munch on the carrot before taking it completely into her mouth. Abby laughed again.

  Mark had her come inside Delilah's stall as he brushed her down. Abby watched him work, his hands gentle, espec
ially as he brushed over the mare’s swollen sides.

  Abby let out a surprised sound when she saw Delilah's belly ripple. "Oh, you can see the foal!" She moved closer. "Is that a hoof?"

  Mark grinned. "Probably. Can't imagine it's too comfortable to have four hooves kicking at you from the inside like that."

  "Probably no more comfortable than a human baby kicking you."

  At the mention of babies, Abby felt her throat close. Derek's words from earlier in the day came back to her, clawing at her. He'd want a real woman, wouldn't he?

  And she couldn't be that woman, no matter how much she wanted to be.

  "I should get dinner started," she said.

  "Wait, Abby."

  Her back to him, she waited. He let out a deep sigh.

  "I feel like this is all I do lately, but I'm sorry. For last night. I shouldn't have done what I did. Or said."

  Abby couldn't move. She hadn't wanted his apology—not for kissing her. What did it say about a man that he regretted kissing you? It meant that he hadn't wanted you.

  He'd done it because—she didn't know. He was lonely? She was available? Any other woman would've worked in that instance. She was replaceable, unremarkable.

  Anger curdled in her gut. Turning, she said in a tight voice, "I don't know why I keep coming back here."

  He looked like he wasn't sure, either. Abby wanted to laugh.

  What a mess this is.

  She moved toward him until she could see the sheen of sweat on his brow, how his hair curled from his work. How his shirt hugged his torso.

  "I don't know what's up with you, or what you think of me, but the last thing I need is some guy kissing me because I'm convenient. So save your apology. I don't want to hear it."

  His jaw clenched, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. "Is that what you really think?"

  "That you kissed me out of pity? What else am I supposed to think?" She crossed her arms over her breasts. "I'm tired of men treating me like I'm disposable. I'm not doing this again."

  She waited for him to respond, to say that he was sorry. She waited for him to say, it's not like that, I wanted to kiss you and only you. But he said nothing.

  She turned away in disgust. Stalking out of the barn, she headed toward the house, but Mark caught her before she got inside.

  "Let's get one thing straight," he said, almost growling. The sound sent a shiver down her spine. "You can think whatever you like about me and God knows most of it is probably true, but I did not kiss you out of pity." He spat the word with such heat that she gaped at him.

  His hand was still on her arm, holding her, and the heat of his fingers on her skin sent desire roaring through her. She wished she weren't so weak for this man.

  His eyes darkened, and when he looked like he was going to kiss her, her stupid, traitorous heart thrilled.

  But in the last moment, she found the strength to pull away. "I can't keep doing this. This back and forth. Just... no. I'm not doing this."

  Mark looked hurt for a second, but he shuttered the expression. Then: "You can go, you know. If you want."

  Now she wanted to roll her eyes. Could this man never make up his mind?

  "And then you can tell everybody that I'm a lying liar who lies?"

  That made his lips twitch. "No. I wouldn't—" He pushed his fingers through his hair. "I wouldn't say anything. I shouldn't have said that I would in the first place. It was low of me. You can add that to the list of things I should apologize for."

  She was stunned. Then again, hadn't she sensed that Mark didn't have a malicious bone in his body? He might act rashly when angry or desperate, but he wasn't the type to hold something over a person.

  Her anger deflated, and confusion filled her instead. This man would drive her insane if she let him.

  "Thank you," she said softly, "I appreciate that. I'll stay one more night and be gone in the morning. That work?"

  He looked away, effectively dismissing her. "That's fine."

  8

  Abby folded the last of her clothes, shooing away the cats when they tried to climb inside her suitcase. She'd have to leave early in the morning if she wanted to make it to work on time after dropping off the cats.

  "You two make my life more complicated, you know that, right?" she said fondly before giving each cat a good scratch. Wentworth meowed and stretched while Darcy yawned and rolled over onto his back.

  She sat on the bed and stroked both cats, her thoughts still in turmoil. She needed to leave because she was very much afraid that if she stayed any longer, Mark Thornton would break her heart. Even if he hadn't kissed her out of pity, she had to protect herself.

  She sighed as she ruffled Darcy's fur.

  "What am I doing?" she whispered. "I've never felt this lost before."

  Even when she'd made the decision to break up with Derek she hadn’t been this torn up. She felt like one part of her was tugging her to stay, to uncover more of Mark, to discover the vulnerable center of a man who was so closed off. The other part of her told her to run as fast as she could and never look back.

  Darcy rubbed his face against her hand. She smiled.

  "You guys don't care, do you? No, you don't. Just as long as somebody's there to feed you and scratch you."

  The cats yawned and fell back asleep.

  Her phone rang, and she grimaced when she saw that her mom, Fiona, was texting her. At least her mother wasn't calling her—she couldn't deal with a phone call right now.

  How are you? I haven't seen you in forever! her message read.

  Considering she'd seen her mother a few days ago—had it only been a few days since this whole thing had begun?—she couldn't help but smile. Her heart tightened, thinking of her mother.

  She was tempted to call her and pour her heart out to her, asking her for her advice like she'd done when Abby had been a kid. What would she tell Abby? Drop him and run, probably.

  She hesitated, considering. But then she remembered the look of joy on Fiona's face when Abby had told her she was dating again. Could she disappoint Fiona?

  Not yet, she reasoned. She'd let Fiona enjoy the idea of Abby dating a guy like Mark for a little while longer.

  Or you don't want to admit that you were never dating the guy to begin with.

  Yes, that could be the reason, too.

  She replied, Didn't we just see each other? :)

  Doesn't matter. I was going to call you but I've been busy, too. How's your guy?

  Abby tried to find something between the truth and a lie. He's good. Arm's getting better every day. I try to help with what I can.

  Help? Is that what you're calling it? ;) Well, I'll let you go. Have a good time. Love you.

  Love you too, Abby messaged, her gut twisting with guilt. She didn't even want to think about how she'd tell her mother that she and Mark were over. Or that they had never been dating to begin with, although there had been those kisses…

  "Ugh!" she exclaimed as she threw a pillow against the wall. Wentworth opened one eye to glare at her; Darcy didn't even move.

  As she got ready for bed, she realized that she couldn't find her car keys. They were usually in her purse, but after getting out her lip balm and not hearing the tell-tale jingle of her keys, she dug around, only to come up empty-handed. She huffed out an annoyed breath. Of course she would lose her keys the night before she tried to leave this stupid ranch!

  This was the second time she'd lost something around Mark Thornton. Maybe he was like a magnet for important items.

  She'd had her keys in her hand when she'd gotten out of her car today... and when she'd been in the barn with Mark. She must've dropped them in there.

  Heading outside, she shivered at the cool night air. It was completely dark now, and she stood for a moment looking up at the stars. She hadn't seen the stars this well in ages, not since she'd been camping as a little girl. Gazing up at the faraway constellations, she felt lonely, like she was the last person left on earth. It was her
and the stars and nobody else.

  Abby shook off the feeling and continued toward the barn. Right when she was about to enter, she heard a voice. She stilled, waiting.

  It was Mark. Why was he out here in the cold? She listened, hoping he was about to leave so she could find her keys.

  Then she waited for an entirely different reason as she heard him talking to one of the horses.

  "I never say the right thing around her," he said in a low voice. He sounded... pained, almost. "It's like all I ever end up doing is insult her."

  Abby held her breath. She knew she should leave him alone, but she was too curious to go back into the house.

  The horse made a snuffling sound, and Mark laughed a little. "You think I should get my head out of my ass? Yeah, you're probably right. I keep thinking I should let her be and yet..."

  Abby waited on tenterhooks for his next sentence, but there was only silence. She barely stopped herself from letting out an annoyed sound. The man couldn't even let her eavesdrop properly!

  She heard movement, and then the sound of patting. "At least I have you, right? You're my forever girl, aren't you, Delilah?" A pause. Then: "You'd never betray me. Not you."

  Abby's heart constricted until she felt like she couldn't breathe. She shouldn't be here. Hurrying back to the house, she didn't know what to think except that she'd discovered something about Mark that had not been for her ears.

  She thought about the photo in Mark's bedroom. Was that the woman who'd betrayed him? She didn't know if she were angrier with the unnamed woman or more sympathetic toward Mark.

  Derek hadn't cheated on her, but he'd never appreciated her, either. Emotionally, he'd never been faithful. It seemed a paltry comparison, but at the same time, she felt a sort of kinship with Mark.

  She sneaked into her bedroom and closed the door until it was only slightly ajar so the cats could get out. The two felines looked up at her when she entered, but neither moved from their spots on the bed.