by Sabrina York
He took her by the arms and gently detangled her from his person. “Hello, Tibby.”
She turned to Sidney and fixed a sympathetic expression on her face. “I am so sorry about your father, Sidney.”
Sidney stiffened, but said, “Thank you, Tibby.” It was clear she was anxious to see her dad, but Tibby seemed oblivious. She chattered on about the coming Founder’s Day celebration, of which she was the chair. Not that this was any great honor. Since the Puceys had founded the town, way back when, one of them always served as the chair.
In past years, her brother Zack had been the chair of the event, but after his breakup with Hanna, Zack had gone a little crazy and tried to set Logan’s restaurant on fire. The security cameras caught everything, so Zack was now doing a couple of years for arson.
As disastrous as that was to the family reputation in town, Tibby seemed to be lapping it up. She’d lived her whole life in Zack’s shadow.
“So,” she said after a way-too-long monologue, “can I count on you both to volunteer?”
Cody gaped at her, then he glanced at Sidney to find her gaping as well. She shook her head—not in a no kind of way, but in an are you serious? kind of way. “I don’t live in town,” she reminded Tibby.
“Oh,” Tibby gushed. “Of course you don’t.” She offered a simpering smile. “I guess it’s just you and me, Cody.” And yeah, she batted her lashes.
“We’ll see,” he said, not willing to promise anything. “Right now, Sidney and I need to go. See you later.” And before Tibby could say anything more—though it was clear she intended to—he whisked Sidney to the elevators, praying the woman didn’t follow.
When the doors closed on them, Sidney sighed. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, shooting him a wry glance.
“What?”
“You were far too vague. We’ll see? She could take that as a marriage proposal.”
“I wanted to end the conversation.”
“Coward.”
He had to laugh. He was a coward, at least where Tibby was concerned. “She scares me to death.”
“Excellent.” She winked. “That means you’re paying attention.”
The conversation was all tongue in cheek, but there was an element of truth in there. Tibby was like a predator on the Serengeti, stalking any eligible male. She’d made no bones about the fact she wanted him.
And he didn’t want her.
More to the point, he didn’t want her screwing up this tentative peace with Sidney. It was far too precious.
When the elevator doors opened, he took her arm—which she allowed—and led her to the ICU nurse’s desk. Old nurse Ratched was on duty and she offered him a dark glower. Cody didn’t take it personally. He’d known her for years—she’d been on duty when his father had taken his last breath here—he knew this was just . . . her way.
And her name wasn’t Ratched, it was Lovelace, but given her relentless stern demeanor, such a pretty moniker didn’t seem to fit, so they all called her Ratched. Behind her back of course. Which was probably small-minded of them, and if she heard them, there was no telling how she might wreak her revenge. Lobotomies in the cafeteria with a grapefruit spoon came to mind.
Nonetheless, he offered a smile and a nod.
Her eyes narrowed. Something like a growl rippled on the air.
“We’re, ah, here to see Henry Stevens,” he said.
Her lips pursed. “Family?”
“I’m family,” Sidney said, although Ratched probably knew damn well she was. This was a small town after all. “I’m his daughter.”
Ratched sniffed. “Come with me.” But when they both followed her, she whipped around and glowered at him. “Not. You.”
Sidney winced. “Please,” she said. “I would appreciate his support. This is . . . very difficult for me.”
Given her heartfelt plea, it appeared Ratched would soften, but she didn’t. “It is against regulations,” she said, and with another glower in his direction, ushered Sidney through the double doors.
“It’s okay,” he called. “I’ll wait here.” And he dropped into one of the uncomfortable seats.
Truth be told, he hated waiting rooms. Not just because the seats were hard and the room smelled of disinfectant, but because it brought back painful memories. He’d spent his share of time in a hospital waiting room and—in his experience—the thing one most waited for was death.
The first time he’d sat in these chairs was when his mom was rushed to the hospital with a breech birth. He’d been young then, too young to really understand what was happening. In his naivety, he’d thought everything would be fine. His mom was in excellent health, and she’d had three babies before.
The last thing he expected was for the doctors to come out with those tight expressions and say, “I’m sorry. We’ve lost them.”
Lost them.
Both of them.
Where had they gone? he’d wondered, his mother and his baby brother, whom they’d named Cole. But there had been no answers from his father. No end to the grief.
He’d never expected that with that loss, his entire life would change. They went from being a happy and whole family to a bereaved father and three lost, motherless children. In the end, Cade had taken up the reins as their father had slowly sunken into his misery. It was a heavy load for a twelve-year-old, but Cade had done it. Played father and mother to them all.
And then, of course, they’d come here to wait for their father’s death too. Older and wiser, they knew a failing liver did not lend itself to miracles.
That loss, though not totally unexpected, hadn’t been any easier.
And then, the news had come that they were losing the ranch on top of everything.
It had been a hard, hard time.
So yes, sitting in a waiting room was not his favorite thing to do. It brought up far too many old demons.
Fortunately, he didn’t have long to wait before Sidney came back out. Her expression was wretched. He knew what this was like so he stood and greeted her with a hug. She clung to him.
“How is he?”
She shook her head and sobbed into his shoulder. “Same.”
He closed his arms tighter around her. “Same is better than worse.”
Her laugh was damp. “I suppose.”
“Come and sit down,” he said, leading her to the seats. He made a mental note to bring a couple of cushions tomorrow. As she sat, he reached over for the box of tissue on the table, and she took a handful with a nod of thanks. “I know it’s hard,” he said.
She sniffed and mopped her cheeks. Damn. He longed to kiss her tears away. But friends didn’t do that, did they?
“He-he-he looks so weak.”
“He’s been through a lot. You need to be patient. Give him time. He’s a pretty strong guy. And healthy.”
“I had no idea he had a heart problem,” she wailed.
Henry wasn’t the kind of guy to complain. “What did they say?”
“They said a lot. I don’t remember all of it. But he needs surgery. They’re waiting until he’s more stable.”
Shit. Not stable enough for surgery? That wasn’t good.
“Have you reached Hanna?”
She sighed. “Not yet.”
“Where on earth could she be?”
“She and Logan went on a cruise. I know signal can be spotty at sea.”
“But we could call the ship . . .”
“Yes, we could,” she said. “If we knew what boat they were on.”
He hated to say it, hated to even mention Ben, but he had to. “Maybe Logan’s brothers know.”
Yeah, he hated to mention it. Hated that her eyes lit up. “I’ll call,” she said and leaped to her feet and scurried to the balcony where cell phone use was permitted. He had to follow.
As
she spoke with Ben, his stomach tightened, because she seemed suddenly at ease, much more comforted by this other man, his friend, than she had been with him. He hated that. Not simply the jealousy of it, but the fact that another man could soothe her. That she felt more at home with him.
He had to turn away, staring out at the town he’d grown up in. Where had it all gone wrong? Where had he lost her? His gaze landed on the high school, and he winced. There. It had all gone wrong there. One night in a red-hot Mustang in the parking lot.
Shit.
She ended the call and came over to him, her eyes wide and a smile on her face. “Thank you. That was a great idea. Ben is checking with the others. One of them has to know which ship they took.”
“It’s a shame to ruin their vacation.”
“But Hanna would want to know. She’d want to be here.”
“Of course.” He gazed down at her, flummoxed and beguiled by her beauty, aching to hold her, yearning to make this all better. But he couldn’t. So he said, “Can I get you some coffee?” A stupid offer, but her smile widened.
“Hospital coffee? My favorite.”
“Yeah. Right. Anything else?”
“Surprise me.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” And before he could stop himself, he kissed her. Just a light, tender kiss.
And she let him.
It was wonderful indeed.
Chapter Fourteen
The kiss surprised her.
Not just because he dropped it on her lips when she least expected it, but because of how it felt.
Not maddening and passionate, but comforting and warm. It made her anxiety melt away and filled her with a great sense of well-being. She’d never felt that from a Cody-kiss before and she had to admit . . . it was nice.
Maybe being friends with him wouldn’t be so bad after all.
And as friends went, he was pretty awesome. She was still blown away by the generosity and compassion with which the Silvers had embraced this disaster. How painful would it have been to face this alone?
Funny thing was, Sidney had always defined herself as a loner, someone who never needed anyone and preferred to handle things on her own. As a rule, she went out of her way to avoid depending on anyone.
This sense of . . . belonging was new to her, different and, dare she say it, something she had secretly craved her whole life.
So secretly, she’d never even realized it herself . . . until she experienced it.
It seemed almost too wonderful to last.
Ah, but there she was again. That was the old Sidney talking. The cynical soul who always anticipated the worst and sometimes brought it on herself.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to be that Sidney anymore.
She certainly didn’t want to be alone anymore, to handle it all by herself, to refuse any helping hands.
It was so . . . nice allowing someone to help. Especially when they wanted to. Even though it was a challenge for her to release her hold on the reins. Or maybe because of it.
“Oh, hey there.”
Sidney flinched. Tibby’s voice, as always, was like nails on the chalkboard.
She flashed Sidney a fake smile and glanced around the waiting room. “Where’s Cody?”
“He went to get coffee. Did you need something?” Honestly, Tibby was the most annoying person on the planet.
“Ah. I just wanted to ask him a question about Saturday night.” Her eyes were bright, and too avidly fixed on Sidney’s face. “Did he mention that we’re dating?”
It took some effort, but she trained her features not to react. “Mmm.”
“Because we have a date. Saturday night.”
“Well, he’s in the cafeteria.” No doubt he wouldn’t appreciate her throwing him under the bus, but the last thing she wanted was a friendly chat with Tibby. Sidney was pretty sure she didn’t have a date with Cody. For one thing, Ben had mentioned Cody wasn’t dating anyone. For another, his reaction to Tibby earlier was far from that of a man besotted.
And, for another . . . eww.
Unfortunately, Tibby didn’t seem to be in a rush to corral Cody. She sat down next to Sidney—far too close. Apparently she’d just spritzed herself with whatever bug spray she called perfume. The odor made Sidney cross her eyes and cough.
This was a hospital. Hazardous materials should be banned.
“So . . .” Tibby said. “I hear you’re dating someone?”
“Mmm.” It was none of her business. Absolutely none of her business.
“Who is it?”
Sidney flicked her a look. “A guy.”
“Because I was wondering . . .” She let the sentence fragment dangle there like a bull’s pizzle. And, like a bull’s pizzle, Sidney did not feel inclined to grab hold of it. After a moment, Tibby plowed on. “I was wondering why you’re here with Cody.”
Seriously?
“Because, honestly, it really is strange. Seeing the two of you here together.”
“Really?”
“Considering the fact that you’re dating someone else.”
“Really?”
“Of course.” Tibby offered a plastic smile. Her too-friendly demeanor took on a truculent, Gorgonesque aspect. As though snakes might, at any moment, spring, hissing, from her head. “You do know that he’s my man?” There was the hissing.
“Is that so?”
“Absolutely. And I don’t like to share.”
“Don’t you?” Sidney knew she should be annoyed by this altercation, but she couldn’t be. For heaven’s sake, the woman was delusional.
Tibby smiled again, something cold and hard and heartless. “Just a friendly warning,” she quipped. “Keep away from Cody Silver.”
“I appreciate the warning,” Sidney said in a blasé tone, but inside she was howling with laughter. Who the hell did Tibby think she was? Warning Sidney away from Cody? And how on God’s green earth did she expect anyone to take her seriously?
Granted, had Sidney been some green ingénue from an eighties romance, she might have been crushed and quivering after this clash with the sophisticated, wealthy older woman. But she was not.
Probably because Tibby wasn’t sophisticated. In fact, she gave the impression of a desperate woman dressing up as a lady of society and bullying people into accepting her masquerade.
It all left a bad taste in Sidney’s mouth.
It was a relief then, when after lowering her cautionary boom, Tibby pranced off to wherever the hell it was candy stripers in their thirties went after terrorizing hospital visitors. The break room, maybe?
Cody returned shortly thereafter, carrying a tray with two cups of coffee and two slices of pie.
“Oooh,” Sidney said. “You had success in your foraging, I take it?”
“Great success,” he said in his best Borat voice. He sat at her side and handed her a coffee. “Cream, two sugars.”
She stared at him. How did he know that?
He winked. “I watched you at breakfast.”
Well. That was . . . thoughtful. “Thank you.”
“Two kinds of pie. Which do you prefer? Apple or lemon meringue?”
“Damn. They both sound good.”
He handed her a spork. “Let’s share.”
She grinned at him. “Mmm. My favorite.”
For some reason he stilled, stared at her.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Come on.” She nudged him. “What?”
A flush crept up his cheeks and he shrugged. “I just . . . You’re so pretty.”
She looked away, raked back her hair. “I look like a wreck.”
“Not true. Besides, I meant your eyes. When you’re happy, they . . . glow.”
She made a face. “As in, alien eyes?”
&nb
sp; “No.” He barked a laugh. “They just . . . glow.”
“Well, thank you. I think.”
It was an awkward moment for her, so she did what she always did when faced with an awkward moment. Ate pie.
It was good pie, but then the hospital cafeteria was known for good pie . . . and little else.
“Good job,” she said as they finished the last of both pieces.
“Thank you, ma’am. And ah . . . do me a favor?”
“Sure. What?”
“Don’t tell Lisa we ate pie here.”
Sidney had to laugh. Lisa would no doubt have a conniption that they hadn’t asked her for pie. “Lisa needs to learn she cannot feed the world.”
“That is her goal in life, I think.”
“I like her.”
“I do too. I’m so glad she and Cade got together. They are so right for each other. Hard to think I nearly—”
He cut off abruptly, and she glanced at him. “You nearly what?”
He cringed. “I hate to admit it, but I nearly kept them apart forever.” His sigh was heavy. “I had no idea Cade liked her. And I asked her out in high school.”
Sidney had to snicker. “Is there anyone you didn’t ask out in high school?”
He scowled at her, but it was a playful scowl. “I felt awful when I found out. But it was way too late to make amends. Fortunately, they worked it out.”
“It’s not always easy, working things out.”
His gaze burned her. “No. It’s not. But if you really love someone, you just keep trying.”
“I suppose.” This conversation was getting too deep and it was making her all prickly, so she forced a smile and said, “Oh, while you were gone your girlfriend came by.”
He blanched. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“According to her you do.” It was wrong to tease him, but she couldn’t help it. His chagrin was way too enjoyable to watch. “She had a question about your date on Saturday night.”
“I don’t have a date on Saturday night!” A squawk. His eyes flicked around the room in a panic, as though he expected this mysterious girlfriend to pop out at any moment and drag him down into dating hell.
