by Liz Johnson
His stomach felt as if he’d stepped in a rubber boat on the ocean for the first time. Every breath was a wave crashing against his bow. Every inch away from her, a mile.
All he really wanted was one more perfect moment.
But she’d been so clear about not being involved with a patient. As long as she was his PT, she couldn’t be more.
Of course, he’d already crossed that line. Big-time.
And he wouldn’t do it again. He wouldn’t ask her to bend her convictions or make her doubt that choice. It was a solid one.
Even if it shouldn’t apply to him.
Because he was in love with her.
He pressed his forehead to hers and let out a relieved sigh. Knowing that, admitting it to himself, granted him a freedom he hadn’t known before. No matter the crutches he used or the braces he had to wear or the therapy he had to endure, he loved Mandy Berg.
And he’d wait until she was ready to love him back.
Pulling away, he squeezed her hand one last time and let it go. He tried to say something encouraging, but the words died on the tip of his tongue as her face fell.
“Mandy?” He cupped her ear, combing her curls out of the way. “What is it?”
Her gaze followed her hand, which dropped from his heart to his waist and slipped around to his back. “Please. Hold me. Just for a minu-ute.”
The catch in her voice was his undoing, and he could do nothing but what she asked. It took only a half step to close the distance between them as he swallowed her in his embrace, one arm circling her waist and the other cradling her shoulders. He rocked back and forth, whispering nonsense words of love into her hair as a warm pool of tears seeped onto his shirt.
“Shh. It’s all right now. You’re safe.”
“But I saw her.”
“I know. She’s gone now, though.”
She hiccuped and leaned back just far enough to look into his eyes. “Before, I could lie to myself. I could pretend maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t really after me.”
“And now you can’t.”
She nodded, tucking back under his chin. “It’s stupid, I know.”
“It’s not stupid. It’s honest.”
Her fingers brushed up and down his side. “Why are you so good to me?”
“Because we’re in this together. Remember?” That got the little chuckle he’d been looking for. “Ready?”
“Almost.” Pulling herself up on his shoulders, she pressed her lips to his.
Surprise made him tense for a split second, and she leaned back as if maybe the kiss had surprised her, too. Meeting her gaze, he shrugged and wrapped her in his arms again. Stumbling toward the tree trunk, he let her lean against the bark as he cupped her face with his hands.
She sighed as if he was the only thing she needed. Or would ever need.
“Kiss me?” she whispered.
One last tear on her cheek reflected the moonlight, and he swiped it away with this thumb.
Her lips were smooth and tasted of the strawberry-jelly sandwiches they’d snacked on earlier. His breath caught, everything vanishing. Everything except Mandy.
Her scent surrounded him, filling him with joy and wonder.
This.
This was all he’d ever wanted.
Even if he’d never met her, he’d have missed this.
He just wanted to hold her. Forever.
There went that line again.
God forgive him if this was wrong. But he wanted to love and honor this woman for the rest of his life, give her all that he had.
Even if all he had to give was his heart.
FOURTEEN
The next morning Mandy paced the kitchen for almost an hour before Luke clattered in on his crutches. His curls were adorably disheveled, and the early light glinted off his barely there stubble.
“Mom said you’ve been wearing a hole in the floor. Everything okay?”
She spun toward him, looking ready to unload all her worries but stopped short. “Did you injure your knee again? I told you, you have to be so careful. I’ll take you to the hospital.”
He held up his hand and shook his head as she tried to march by him. “I didn’t injure it. It’s just sore.” She glanced up, trying to meet his eyes but having to settle for his jaw. “I figured my PT would appreciate it if I took it easy today. You know, rested it.”
Ugh.
How did he do that? Every time she was ready to scold him for doing something extremely stupid in the name of saving her, he made her laugh instead.
It was starting to get annoying—mostly in the way that it was anything but annoying.
“It’s probably wise, but you should still do your exercises today.” She cringed at the way her voice wobbled. She pressed a hand to her stomach, which did a strange little dance any time he was this close. There was nothing to be done about the unique rhythm of her heartbeat.
Especially when she thought about that kiss the night before.
She jabbed both hands through her hair before covering her eyes. That had been such a terrible mistake. The worst.
Of course, if he hadn’t propped her against the tree, she would have been a puddle at his feet. She’d wanted—needed—his comfort so badly. But still, she’d broken every one of her rules.
She was the one setting the boundaries, and she was the one crossing them, too. That had to stop. Any more of this, and her heart would truly be at risk.
It already was, if she was honest with herself.
But that couldn’t possibly be God’s plan. To lose her heart to another patient was ludicrous. She’d learned her lesson with Gary. If nothing else, God had used Gary to teach her that patients were off-limits.
Even someone who kissed her as if he could love her forever.
She scrubbed her fingertips across her scalp, wishing she could erase the memory and her embarrassment with it.
Luke obviously harbored no similar sentiments, if his Cheshire grin was any indication. “I thought you could help me with my exercises today.”
“I have to go to the office.”
Confusion crossed his features as his gaze swept over her work uniform. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“What am I going to do? Hide until she shows up here with a gun?” The words were hard to say but no less true. “I have patients to see and commitments to fulfill. I already took yesterday off. Besides, I won’t be alone. The office is full of patients, and Tara is practically a guard dog.”
He played with the corner of his mouth as his eyebrows pulled together. “I can go to the office with you. I’ll just do my session there.”
She shook her head, reaching out to pat his arm, then yanking it back before making actual contact. Touching him wasn’t going to help her say what she needed to.
“I think it’s better if we…” She sighed and stared at the ceiling, praying for the right words. “Last night—there were so many emotions. I was terrified.”
His eyes flashed with something close to anger, but it seemed mixed with agony. He leaned forward on his crutches, invading her personal space, almost daring her to back away. More likely daring her to keep going.
“We shouldn’t have— I shouldn’t have—kissed you. These feelings we have, they’re an illusion.”
His eyebrows rose until they disappeared under the swath of hair across his forehead. “Oh, really?”
She spun away, turned back and crossed her arms. Anything between them was better than nothing. “I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have instigated that…” Her hand fluttered near her forehead, her tongue unable to speak the word.
“Kiss.” He didn’t flinch. “I believe the word you’re looking for is kiss. And it was pretty amazing from my point of view.”
“Yes, well, of course. It was—you know—it was good.” His eyebrow arched, a disbelieving scowl settling into place. “Fine. It was better than good. But it still shouldn’t have happened. This thing between us is just a facade. It’s t
he closeness between a PT and patient. It’s the danger and fear and emotions that are just too much to handle. We have to stop all of it. Th-this—” She choked on the word, her heart catching up with her mouth and testifying against the lies she was telling.
But they had to be said.
No matter how much they hurt, she had to protect him from the train wreck that their relationship would inevitably become if left unchecked.
“—isn’t real.”
His nostrils flared, his eyes narrowing as he cracked his neck.
But before he could speak, his phone went crazy, buzzing and squawking from deep in his pocket. He held up a finger to indicate that he wasn’t finished with their conversation as he fished it out.
He glanced at the screen, then squinted back up at her. “Tristan says that symbol on the headstones is the Chinese symbol for revenge or payback.”
Her stomach lurched, and she hugged her middle to keep from flying apart.
It was exactly what they had suspected. Someone wanted retribution for Laney’s death and those of her parents.
“But he says this particular symbol is used almost exclusively for tattoos.”
“How can he be sure?”
Luke read directly from the screen in his hand. “This symbol is a kind of slang that is generally only used by Chinese Americans and isn’t very common outside the States or with classic Chinese speakers. It’s a safe guess that whoever used this picked it up from a nonnative speaker. Most likely a tattoo artist.”
“You think she has a revenge tattoo?” How much hate did it take to get a permanent reminder like that? Mandy squirmed at the very idea.
“Maybe.”
“But she could be anyone.”
He stared hard at his phone as if there might be more information on it. But when he looked up, he had only logic on his side.“Well, we know she’s in Southern California—and probably has been since your identity-theft issues began. Tristan seems convinced she would have found that symbol at a tattoo artist’s, so I think we should start asking around at local parlors. Maybe we’ll catch a break.”
It made sense. And she prayed they’d find something. Because they might not be able to dodge the next bullets.
*
Luke could barely think through the message from Tristan after the bomb Mandy had dropped. Since last night, he’d been completely sure of one thing. What was between them was absolutely real. He’d never loved anyone the way that he loved Mandy Berg.
And there was no doubt that she felt the same about him.
He just had to figure out how to get her to admit it.
But Tristan’s message came first. Before he could tackle the problem of convincing Mandy that he was worth the risk, they had to figure out if Camilla—or anyone else—had gotten a revenge tattoo.
Swallowing the words that desperately wanted to be released, the words that might change her heart, he squeezed his phone until the urge passed. “I have a few connections with some tattoo shops in the area.”
Her forehead wrinkled, and she crossed her arms. “You do?”
He shrugged. “A lot of navy men get ink.”
“Including you?” It wasn’t so much a question, but he felt compelled to correct her assumption.
“Actually, no. But I have some connections. I’ll make some calls and stop by a few places today while you’re in the office—but only if you promise me that you won’t leave under any circumstances.”
Arms still crossed and lips pinched, she nodded. “All right.”
“And I’ll follow you there.”
She tossed up her hands. “You don’t have to do that.”
He didn’t bother with a response to that. “I’ll be ready to go in three minutes.” He met her at the front door, ready to go, in two, and she didn’t argue when he climbed into his car to follow her rental to the office. And while he never took his gaze off her taillights, his mind was sixty miles away. At the cemetery.
There had to be something about the Tracts that they had missed, something about Laney’s sister, who had vanished. If she wasn’t the one who had carved the revenge symbol on the headstones, she almost certainly would know who did.
Mandy pulled into her parking space at the side of the building and waved at him as she walked toward the glass doors. Luke started to wave back but jumped out to follow her inside. Catching her before she disappeared down the back hallway, he snagged her elbow, gave it a gentle tug and spun her around.
“Have you called Detective Fletcher about Laney’s sister?”
“Not yet. I was going to do it today.”
His gut said they couldn’t wait. The same way he’d known that the suicide bomber in Lybania was trouble, he knew that Laney’s sister was close. They couldn’t risk another run-in like the night before. They most certainly couldn’t count on a groundskeeper to unknowingly come to their rescue.
They had to put an end to this. Immediately.
A footstep in the hall drew his attention, and his gaze flicked over to the redhead toting her beach bag. “Tara.” He nodded.
“Luke.” Her tone was slightly surprised. “I don’t think I have you on the schedule today. Should I put you in a slot?”
“He’s not staying. He has to run some errands.” Mandy squeezed his arm.
“Okay. But make that call about Laney’s sister, all right?”
She nodded, shot Tara a smile and marched toward her office.
With furrowed brows, Tara leaned out over the front counter. “She okay? Any updates? Have they found Camilla yet?”
“Not yet. But I think we might be getting close. Do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
“Keep an eye on Mandy today?” He stared down the hallway, then into Tara’s bright blue eyes. “Don’t let her leave until I’m back.”
“Sure. Okay.”
“What time’s her last appointment today?”
She glanced down at her computer screen. “Five thirty.”
“Great.” With a pop of his fist on the counter, he walked out, got into his car and tried to figure out where to start with the hundreds of tattoo shops in the city.
*
After six hours and more than a dozen stops, Luke was beat and right where he’d started. He swiped the back of his hand over his forehead as he pulled into another gravel parking lot, another off-the-beaten-path house. The clock glared at him. Only three thirty. He had time for this and maybe one more place before he had to be at Mandy’s.
He took his time crossing to the front entrance, every step another test on his knee. So far it was passing with flying colors.
As he swung open the door, a wave of smoke assaulted him, and he blinked away the tears that pricked his eyes. It was dark inside, and he wondered how any artist could work in these conditions. Still, he pushed toward a woman with a long black braid slung over her shoulder. Glancing up from the computer in front of her, she smiled.
“What can I do for you? Need some new ink?”
“I’m actually looking for someone who might have a specific tattoo.”
Her smile dimmed. “Did they get it here?”
He shrugged, turning up the wattage on his smile until hers matched. “Maybe.”
“Why do you need to find this person?”
“She’s been harassing my…” How could he describe Mandy? Physical therapist was a little formal. Friend didn’t come close to covering what he felt for her. “My girl.”
“Show me the tattoo.” He obliged, and her nose wrinkled. “Jimmy does most of our Chinese symbols. Let me ask him.” She hollered loud and long until a short black man appeared from behind a gray curtain. “Hey, Jimmy, you give a tattoo like this recently?”
He looked at Luke’s phone and plucked at the tip of his nose. “Revenge, huh? Well… I haven’t done one of those in a while.”
“On a woman?”
Jimmy perked up. “Only done two on women.” As if the little man could read Luke’s questions on his face, Jimmy
answered them. “I remember every tattoo I’ve ever given, kind of like Picasso remembered every crazy painting he ever made. And that’s just not a popular one for girls. Mostly it’s angry boys with beady eyes asking for that.”
Luke squeezed his fist at his side as his pulse picked up its pace. “Can you tell me anything about either of the women?”
“I can do you one better. I’ve got a picture.”
“Seriously?”
Jimmy chuckled and ducked behind the curtain, reappearing a moment later with a giant photo album that he plopped onto the counter. Flipping pages, he mumbled, “I like to keep visual records.” They sailed past dragons and crosses, hearts and moons. Then Jimmy stopped and jabbed a finger at a picture.
The familiar symbol tattooed on a pale white, upper arm was clearly the object of the picture. Out of focus, a woman’s profile looked down at her new ink, her flaming-orange hair tucked behind her ear.
Luke jerked away, his head snapping up and stomach taking a severe nosedive. “You’re sure?” But it was a stupid question. Pictures didn’t lie.
In fact this one had uncovered the biggest lie he’d ever known.
Racing out the door, he jabbed the button to call Mandy. God, please let her answer. Please let her answer.
Her phone went immediately to voice mail, and he slammed a fist against his steering wheel.
Scrubbing a hand down his face, he whispered, “God, just let me find her before it’s too late.”
*
Mandy waved to the young woman cradling her arm in a sling as she pushed open the front door. The teenager lifted one finger but didn’t seem able to do much more.
Plopping the file down on the front desk, Mandy leaned an elbow on Tara’s clipboard. “Is that the last one?” She hoped the empty waiting room wasn’t a joke.
Tara offered a sympathetic smile. “That’s it for the day. Your four thirty was the last.”
Letting out a sigh, she glanced at her watch. “Is Luke back yet?” Tara shook her head, so Mandy nodded toward her office. “I’m going to make a quick phone call. Send Luke back if he gets here before I’m done.”
If she hurried, she could call Detective Fletcher again. She’d had to settle for leaving a message earlier in the day, but she needed to know that he’d begun looking into the Tract family. Dialing the familiar number, she waited for him to answer and drummed her fingers against her desk. She almost hung up on the fifth ring, but it was snatched up just before the sixth.
