Nobody But You B&N

by Barbara Freethy

  "Maybe he's never been tested the way you were."

  "I think he has. He's just stronger than me. He's really an incredible person. I've always loved him and admired him and wanted to be just like him. But I couldn't live up to his example. I fell really short."

  "So you told him, and he said…"

  "Nothing. He just stared at me. It was the longest silence of my life. Then I left. That was it. I don't blame him. I know what I did was wrong."

  Spencer frowned. "You're being extremely hard on yourself, Hallie. You'd just seen your fiancé die. It's surprising you could do anything at all at that point."

  "Don't let me off the hook."

  "I couldn't do that if I tried. You're the only one who can do that. I don't know if what you did in that operating room was as horrible as you think it was. But I do know what you did today, and it was amazing. Just coming to my aid put you in danger, but you did it anyway. And then you take on a man with a gun twice your size? You were brave and selfless, and you should be proud of yourself."

  Her eyes filled with tears, the intensity of his words breaking down the walls of guilt and shame she'd built up in her head. "You're being really nice, Spencer."

  "You have to stop defining yourself by one moment in your past."

  "Isn't that what you've been doing?"

  "I'm trying to change. So should you. Because when I thought we might die in that bank, I realized how much I want to live."

  "I had the same thought," she admitted. "I wanted to die for a long time. I kept asking why Doug, why not me? But when I saw death staring me in the face, I knew I didn't want that at all."

  "And Doug wouldn't want it for you. He'd want you to make the most of your life."

  "He would," she said, tearing up again. "You're right." He squeezed her fingers again, and she realized they were still holding hands, and she didn't want to let go. "We are quite a pair, aren't we?" she asked. "And I'm not talking about the bruises anymore."

  "We've both been to hell. But we're not there anymore."

  "What have you been doing since you got out of prison?" she asked, curious about who he was now.

  "Working in a deli. It's a quite change from my old job as a commodities trader, but I couldn't do that anymore. And with a record, I couldn't be too choosey. Anyway, since being at the deli, I've been toying with the idea of becoming a chef.

  "Really?" she asked in surprise.

  "It's probably a crazy dream."

  "But it's a great dream."

  "I like to cook. I need to get better."

  "So you'll get better. I hate to cook, but I really like to eat."

  "Maybe you'll let me practice on you."

  "Maybe." She paused as the staff began to close down the cafeteria. "I think it's time to go."

  "Yeah." He let go of her hand. "I need to get upstairs anyway."

  She nodded, feeling a little chill now that there was distance between them.

  "Would you come with me?" he asked as they headed out the door.

  She hesitated. "Oh, I don't know. You have your family and friends."

  "But I want you."

  His simple words sent a shiver down her spine.

  And once again, when she should have said no, she found herself saying yes.

  Chapter Ten

  As they walked out of the cafeteria, Spencer stayed close to Hallie's side. It was strange and rather amazing the connection he felt to her. He'd felt closed off and numb for so long, but now his skin was tingling, and his black and white world was filling with color. He just needed Max to recover in order to really enjoy the new feelings of hope and optimism for the future.

  They took the elevator to the third floor and walked down the hall to the waiting room. There were at least twenty people inside, most of them Callaways, and many of whom he'd met the night before at the rehearsal dinner. That seemed like a lifetime ago.

  "I should go," Hallie murmured, holding back when they reached the doorway. "I don't belong here."

  "I don't, either," he said.

  "You're his brother."

  "And these are mostly his in-laws. I could use a friend."

  "Fine, but stop telling everyone I saved Max's life. You're giving me too much credit."

  He smiled. "And you're being way too modest. You don't have to meet everyone, but I do want to introduce you to my mother."

  "Really?" she asked, doubt in her voice. "Your mom?"

  "It won't hurt a bit," he said lightly.

  "You know when nurses say that, they're lying," she told him.

  He smiled and led her across the room to where his mother was sitting next to Emma's mom, Lynda. They both got up to hug him. And when they were done, he found himself the recipient of many more Callaway hugs. By the time he got through the family, he could see Hallie caught up in the same warm receiving line, as Emma told her family that this was the woman who saved Max's life. At least, Hallie couldn't blame him for the attention.

  When they'd gone through the line, they took a seat against the far wall.

  "Well," Hallie murmured. "That was crazy. Are these people always so welcoming?"

  He nodded. "Yeah, pretty much. They already consider Max a friend, a son, a brother, and a brother-in-law."

  "I hope you're not worried about losing him to the Callaways, because I think they're officially adopting you and your mother, too."

  "They've been great," he agreed. "I'm happy for Max." As he settled into his seat, he saw her take out her phone and check the messages. "Anything important come in?"

  "No, just an alert that I missed my flight."

  "There's probably one tomorrow. You should check."

  "I'll do it later," she said.

  He was happy to see her put away her phone, because the last thing he wanted her to do was get on a plane. "What do you usually do for Christmas, when you're not heading for the tropics?"

  "I actually missed Christmas last year. I couldn't get home. But before that I always celebrated with my dad, and sometimes with my brother, if he could make it back. My Aunt Debbie, and her husband and kids, would come over on Christmas Eve. She was like a second mom to me after my mother died. We'd have a big dinner and exchange presents. Then on Christmas Day we always went to church in the morning and then had a big lunch after that. Sometimes we'd invite the neighbors in or some of my father's friends. It was different every year."

  "It sounds nice," he said, hearing the wistful note in her voice. "Aren't you going to miss that?"

  "I'd just put a damper on things."

  "No one else besides your dad knows about…"

  "They know about Doug, but nothing else, unless my father told Aunt Debbie, but I doubt he would do that."

  "You've had no communication with him since the day you told him?"

  She hesitated. "He's texted a few times."

  "Really?" he asked, shifting in his seat. "You didn't mention that before. Did you text him back?"

  "No."

  "Hallie, what are you doing?"

  "Hey, you said you weren't going to judge."

  "I'm not judging, I'm asking you a question. Why haven't you responded to his texts?"

  "I don't know."

  "Yes, you do."

  "Look, I had a plan to get out of town and take my problems with me. It was a good plan, until it all went to hell when I decided to stop at the bank."

  "Maybe something good will come of today."

  "Like what?"

  "A chance to make things right. We both know life is short. You love your dad. You should talk to him again. Give it one more try. He deserves that, and so do you."

  "Maybe. I'll think about it." She crossed her legs and folded her arms in front of her chest, as if she were settling in for the long haul, and they probably were.

  He was glad Hallie had stayed for so many reasons, but one of the biggest was that he'd rather spend the waiting time getting to know her than thinking about how badly Max was hurt. He couldn't get the sight of all t
hat blood out of his head, especially when his clothes were still covered in it. He just hoped the bullet had missed the vital organs and that they hadn't waited too long to act.

  "Spencer?"

  He met Hallie's gaze.

  "Don't go back there," she said.

  "Are you reading my mind now?"

  "Max is in good hands. There's nothing to do but wait," she said.

  "You're right."

  "So what do you like to cook?" she asked.

  "A lot of things."

  "Like?"

  "Well, I just made a really good curry dish with lamb."

  "Sounds delicious. I love curry. Tell me more."

  He gave her a doubtful look. "You really want to talk about food?"

  "It seems like a good topic to me, and one that isn't going to upset either one of us."

  "I might bore you to sleep."

  She smiled. "I'll take that risk."

  "You are the daredevil."

  "Don't you know it," she said lightly.

  He smiled back at her. "Okay, then let me tell you about this stew I'm working on…"

  * * *

  Emma glanced at the clock on the wall, feeling as if the minutes were passing with agonizing slowness. Max had been in surgery for almost four hours, and she was tired of waiting. Her siblings and parents had been great at trying to keep her distracted, but they'd eventually run out of things to say, and she'd drunk enough coffee to sink a ship, which probably hadn't been a good idea. The caffeine had only made her more jumpy and anxious.

  Nicole came into the room after having gone to check with the nurse's station. She immediately shook her head at Emma's silent question. "No news yet, but they think it will be soon."

  "They said that an hour ago."

  "I know," Nicole said. "But let's go with no news is good news."

  She saw the weariness in her sister's face. "If you need to go home, Nicole, I can call you—"

  "Don't be silly. I'm not going anywhere. Jessica is keeping Brandon overnight, so I'm all yours."

  Shayla came over to join them. "I talked to a friend of mine who's an intern here. He said he thinks the surgery is almost done. He also reiterated that Dr. Holland is brilliant."

  Emma was happy to hear both of those statements.

  "I never think about the people waiting," Shayla said, as she took a seat. "In medical school, we're so focused on the physical body, on diagnosis, treatment, pharmaceuticals, but we don't spent a lot of time thinking about the people in the waiting room. I'm going to remember this feeling when I'm a surgeon."

  "You're going to make a really good one," Emma said. Shayla had always been an academic overachiever, but it was nice to see her taking in the whole picture.

  She'd no sooner finished speaking than the door opened, and a doctor walked in. He was dressed in scrubs and booties and looked like he'd come straight from the O.R.

  Emma jumped to her feet and rushed across the room. Susan was just as fast. They grabbed each other's hand as they faced the doctor together.

  "I'm Dr. Holland," he said. "Mr. Harrison is doing well. He made it through the surgery without complications, and we're anticipating a full recovery."

  It took a minute for his words to register through the fear. "Oh, my God," Emma said, putting her other hand to her heart. "Can you say that again?"

  The doctor smiled. "He's going to be fine, but he'll need some recovery time."

  She blew out a breath, feeling an enormous weight lift off her chest. "That is the best news. Thank you so much."

  "Mr. Harrison did the hard work," the doctor said. "He's a fighter."

  "I know," she replied, never doubting that Max would fight to come back to her. "When can I see him?"

  "He'll be asleep for a few hours."

  "I want to sit with him. Can I do that? Please."

  He nodded. "Of course, but only one of you. We'll save the other visits for tomorrow afternoon."

  Emma nodded her agreement.

  "The nurse will come and get you when Mr. Harrison is back in his room."

  As the doctor left, she looked around at her friends and family, the people who had stood by her on the worst day of her life. "He's going to be okay," she said again, happiness racing through her veins.

  Her words were met with a chorus of cheers and smiles, all except for Max's mother, who was quietly weeping into her tissue.

  "Susan," Emma said, squeezing her hand.

  "Don't mind me," Susan said. "These are happy tears now." She gave Emma a watery smile. "My boy is going to be all right."

  "He is." Emma hesitated. The last thing she wanted to do was give up her seat at Max's bedside, but she knew his mother was very worried about him, too. "Do you want to go in and see him first?"

  "Oh, no, dear," she said, shaking her head. "Max will want you there, Emma. Just tell him we're all thinking about him."

  "Spencer?" she asked, offering him the same courtesy.

  He smiled. "Are you kidding? I'm not the pretty face my brother wants to see when he wakes up. But tell him next time he wants to go to the bank, I'm going to pass."

  "Online banking from here on," she agreed. She looked back at her sister, Nicole. "We should make some calls, let people know."

  "I'm on it," Nicole said. "I'll start with the guys downstairs."

  "And I'll call the family," Lynda said.

  "I'll go through the wedding list with Cynthia and make sure all the guests get an update," Shayla said. "Don't worry about anything, Emma. Just go see your man."

  "I will. You've all been amazing to me. I couldn't have gotten through this without any you. I'm so lucky to have this wonderful, incredible family."

  "You never have to get through anything without us," her father said, giving her a hug. "We're Callaways. All for one. One for all."

  "Always, Dad." She ran to the door to meet the nurse who was coming to get her. She couldn't wait to see Max. She wouldn't feel completely better until he opened his eyes and smiled at her. Then her world would be right side up again.

  * * *

  As Emma left the room, Spencer ran a weary hand through his hair and looked at Hallie. "I guess that's it."

  She gave him a warm smile. "I'm so glad you got good news."

  "Thanks for staying with me."

  "No problem. I learned a lot. I think I might even try my own hand at a stew."

  He grinned at her teasing smile. "I told you I would bore you."

  "You didn't. But I think I will find myself a cab and go home."

  "Why don't I drive you?"

  "You should stay with your mom."

  He knew she was right, but he really didn't want to say goodbye to Hallie yet. He was just getting to know her, and he was afraid if he let her walk away now, he'd never see her again. The day's events had brought down her guard walls, but would they be back up in the morning? Would she get on a plane and fly off to her dream island and never come home again? "I'll walk you to the elevator then."

  "Great."

  The walk was far too short.

  As she reached for the elevator button, he stepped in front of her. "Hallie…"

  "What?"

  "We need to get that drink."

  "We will," she said.

  "When you get back from the island?"

  She shook her head. "I'm not going to the island."

  "But the beach is calling, isn't it?"

  "It was, until I spent half the night talking to you. You're very persuasive Spencer." She paused. "I'm going to give my dad a call in the morning and maybe go see him."

  "Really?"

  "You said some things that made sense."

  "I'm glad. So if I'm that good, can I persuade you to give me your phone number now?"

  She smiled. "I already did."

  He gave her a questioning look. "What do you mean?"

  "I put it in your phone when you went to the restroom earlier."

  He grinned. "Sneaky."

  "You really don't know an
ything about me."

  "I'm looking forward to finding out more."

  "I kind of feel the same way about you." She reached around him and pushed the button. "Before we say goodbye, I just need to know one thing."

  "What's that?" he asked.

  She stepped forward, put her hands on his head and pulled him into one hot and amazingly good kiss. Her lips were warm and inviting, and the spark that had been burning since he'd first laid eyes on her leapt into a full-blown flame. He felt a passion brewing that he hadn't felt in a very long time. He put his hands on her waist and held on, wanting to keep the kiss going for as long as possible.

  Then the elevator dinged, and she broke away with a breathless smile. "Just as I thought," she said. "That mouth of yours is good for a lot more than talking."

  He grinned. "Yours, too. That was hot. I'm going to call you tomorrow. You better answer."

  Hallie stepped into the elevator. "I will," she said.

  The elevator doors closed, and he walked back down the hall, feeling light on his feet and happier than he'd been in a decade.

  The rest of his life was about to begin. He was closing the book on his past for good, and he was looking forward to a future—a future that was going to include one beautiful, gutsy redhead.

  * * *

  Emma sat by Max's side until dawn. The sun was just creeping through the slit in the curtains when Max began to stir. She got to her feet as his eyelids flickered and then slowly opened. She put her hand on his arm as he tried to focus. His skin was warm now, and it was so much better than the icy cold she'd felt the night before.

  His gaze finally met hers.

  "Max," she whispered.

  His lips parted, but his voice was hoarse and rough when he said, "Emma."

  "Don't try to talk," she said quickly. Seeing the confusion in his eyes, she added, "You're in the hospital. You were shot, but you're going to be all right." She gave him a smile, wanting to reassure him, wanting to take the sudden flash of fear out of his eyes. She suddenly realized where it was coming from. "Spencer is all right, too."

  Relief moved across his face. He took several deeper breaths and then said, "I'm sorry."

  Her heart tore at his words. "You don't have anything to be sorry for."