“You didn’t have to hire a limo,” he said, coming around the back of the car.
“We didn’t,” she said, waiting for him and Lex to climb in. “The service is donated. Believe me, with traffic the way it is around here, you’ll be grateful I’m not driving. People complain of neck aches after riding with me.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah.” Then Indi said thank-you to their driver, who tipped his hat at her, a gesture that seemed old-fashioned to the point that it made Indi smile.
She caught Todd staring at her when she slid in next to him.
“I’m sure it must be hard to let other people take the wheel,” she said, suddenly uncomfortable all over again. She patted Lex’s head—dog smell mixing with pine-scented air freshener—until Todd ordered him down. The canine must have been used to riding in cars because he settled onto the floor with a pleased grunt, the loose skin of his jowls spreading out around him as he dropped his head on his paws.
“You have no idea.”
Inside the limo was her briefcase, but when she reached for it, Todd said, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let’s wait until after I visit Benjamin to conduct business.”
“Are you sure? There’s a lot to go over.” And Indi needed something to keep her mind off Todd’s wide smile. And the memory of how those lips had felt when they’d touched hers.
Stop it.
That kiss had been…well, weird. He hadn’t actually meant anything by it. Lord knows, he hadn’t called her, and when they had spoken it had been to discuss his duties as a Miracles spokesperson, or to chat about Benjamin. Purely professional. And she’d been disappointed by that.
“After lunch,” Todd reiterated. “Right now I want to hear about how you came to work for Miracles.”
“I’m not certain we should discuss our personal lives,” she said, giving him a smile that must have looked chipped around the edges.
“Why not?”
A week ago she’d have made some snide remark, perhaps even ignored him. But that was before Richmond. Before he’d been so kind to her in Victory Lane and before she’d admitted to herself that she’d been terribly wrong about the type of man he was.
“Because, I don’t know. I just think it’s better if we keep things professional.” Because it just didn’t make sense that she was having these types of thoughts about a man like Todd—a celebrity. Her last relationship with a man like him had ended in disaster.
“Would it help to know Maggie already mentioned your nephew?”
Her gut kicked so violently it took her breath away. She found herself staring at him in shock, and wondering which she wanted to do more—wring Maggie’s neck, or stop the limo so she could dash out of the vehicle and avoid a conversation that seemed to be getting far too intimate.
“She shouldn’t have,” Indi said.
“She didn’t tell me anything personal. Just mentioned it in passing. She explained it’s why you give so much to the kids, because you’ve experienced loss firsthand.”
Next to their limo, a kid had his car radio cranked up as loud as it would go. She pretended to use that as a distraction, only when she saw it was a teenager, she flinched.
Kyle would have been eighteen this year.
“I’m sorry.”
She felt a hand on her knee, and looked away from the head-bobbing young man driving the beat-up Volvo.
“I don’t think I realized until just this past weekend how hard this is on a child’s family,” he said.
“Are you certain you don’t want to go over our publicity ideas right now?” Indi asked.
“I will if it’ll make you feel better.”
She had to look away again, because if she’d held his gaze for a split second longer he might have seen—
What?
That you’re not as strong as you let people think?
So? Maybe, just maybe, it might be good to let her feelings all out.
“What do you want to see first?” she asked brightly. “The contract we drew up officially naming you as one of our spokespeople? Or the publicity ideas we’re throwing around?”
“Neither.”
“No?” She reached for her briefcase, anyway. “I’ve got some sample brochures for you to look at, too. And a mock-up of an ad we’re thinking about running.”
“Indi,” he said gently. “I’m an uncle, too. I can’t imagine what it must have been like to lose one of my nieces or nephews. I don’t know how you do what you do now after dealing with something like that.”
“Don’t get too close.”
“Excuse me?”
God. Had she actually said those words out loud? “Um. Don’t get to close to me,” she said. “I think I’m coming down with Benjamin’s cold.”
That wasn’t what she had meant, and Todd knew it. She could see it in his eyes.
“It’s too late,” he said softly.
“What do you mean? If you wash your hands when we get to the hospital, you’ll be fine.”
“You’re already close to Benjamin,” he said.
“I wasn’t talking about tha—”
“Yes, you were,” he said, and this time, when he reached for her hands, he caught both of them. “And seeing him get sicker, knowing he might lose his battle. It kills you, doesn’t it?”
She couldn’t speak, couldn’t talk over the sudden lump in her throat.
“I saw it in your eyes when we were in Victory Lane. It kills you every time, doesn’t it?”
She looked away.
He squeezed her hands, tugged on them a bit, gently, yet sternly forcing her to look at him again.
“There is no keeping your distance, is there?” he asked, one of his hands tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ear, and his touch…Well, his touch did things it shouldn’t do.
“Todd, I—”
“Poor Indi,” he said, his hand stroking the soft hairs behind her ear. “Poor, poor, Indi.”
Okay, that wouldn’t do. He would not pity her. She coped just fine—
But she realized just how weak she was, just how much she longed to connect with someone right then, someone who wasn’t ill and who would leave her.
“Indi,” he whispered just before his lips connected with hers.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HE EXPECTED HER to pull back. He was pleasantly surprised when she didn’t. He lifted his hands to her chin, suddenly dying to know what she tasted like.
Vanilla. And mint, he added. She tasted clean and sweet and it was all he could do not to pull her into his lap.
“No,” she said, moving her head to the right.
“Yes,” he said, gently using a palm to turn her back toward him.
“Todd, I—”
He cut her words off with a second kiss, only this time he didn’t hold anything back. When all she did was moan, he grew bolder. He cupped the back of her head, took another tentative taste, then another and another. He leaned her back, lifted a hand to her side. The blouse she wore, that damn clingy blouse that had been so sheer he could practically see right through it, afforded little more than a gauzy barrier between his fingers and her flesh.
“Todd,” she gasped, turning her head when his fingers grazed the sensitive skin.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since the night you ruined your dress.”
“My dress,” she murmured, her head falling to the right when he lightly nibbled her neck. “The night you first kissed me.”
“Yes,” he whispered, moving up, nibbling her ears.
“That night the blonde showed up at your motor coach.”
His mouth froze.
“The night I realized I was one of a bevy of girls you’d kissed.”
He drew back. “Indi—”
“No, no,” she said. “It’s true.”
“No, it’s not.”
“No?” she asked.
Okay, maybe it was. But that was all in the past. He’d been rebounding from Kristen when he’d met that woman.
And the oth
ers.
“Honestly, Indi, I had no idea that that woman would show up that night.”
“I’m sure you didn’t,” she said, her hazel eyes full of disappointment. In him? Or herself? “And that makes it all the worse.”
“Worse how?” he asked, his blood pounding.
“How many women has it been this past year?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Does it matter?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Why? That was before you.”
“It just does,” she said, straightening her hair when she realized he’d messed it up. Next she tugged down her shirt and smoothed her pants. She even reached for that damn briefcase again.
“Let’s go over the contract.”
He didn’t want to go over a damn thing. “Indi—”
“No, Todd. Please. I don’t want to talk about it. Where you and I are concerned, it’s nothing but business from here on out.” It had to be that way.
She released the catches on her briefcase. Inside was a laptop and several documents. “If you don’t want to look at the contract, we can look at the mock-up ad that’s on my laptop.”
“Whatever,” he said, sliding away from her and accidentally kicking Lex in the rear. The dog lifted his head, his eyes darting between the two humans as if he could sense the tension between them. Maybe he could.
What the heck was with her? “Here’s your copy of the contract. You might want to read it on the way to the hospital,” Indi said.
He took the sheaf of papers from her, but he didn’t look at it. He just set it on the black leather seat between them. He heard her release a sigh, knew she was upset that he wasn’t doing as she requested. Well, tough. He’d never been so frustrated in his life. He should just do as she asked. Put his feelings toward her in reverse and back away as fast as he could.
Except he didn’t want to.
He peeked at her. She was busy staring out the window, her profile backlit by sunlight. And though she didn’t face him, he could still see the sadness in her eyes, a sorrow that always seemed to linger there. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it must be like to do what she did for a living. When he recalled how tenderly she always spoke to Benjamin, and how strong and supportive she was of Linda, Todd recognized the truth. Indi Wilcox was special. She might infuriate and inflame him. She might prod and provoke him, but beneath all that lay a heart of gold. Probably the biggest heart of anyone he’d ever met.
THEY ARRIVED at the hospital shortly after, the limo driver agreeing to take Lex on a walk since the dog couldn’t come inside the hospital without special clearance. Indi hadn’t spoken a word the rest of the way. That was fine with Todd. He needed to think about how best to pursue her because, yes, that’s what he intended to do.
But the moment they walked into Children’s Hospital, he put his concerns for Indi aside. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting, maybe a hospital painted like a gingerbread house and filled with stuffed animals. But this was a hospital in every sense of the word. The main lobby had the requisite corridors that branched off from the reception area. The floors were linoleum, the carpet a serviceable gray. There were only a few brightly painted walls, but no cartoon characters running about. Actually, there was nothing to indicate that this was a hospital filled with children. Sick children.
“Can I help you?” said a tired-looking woman behind a bright blue counter. She didn’t even look up when they stopped before her desk, just kept on typing on her keyboard. Todd wondered how often this type of place burned out the hospital staff.
“Hi, Sam,” Indi said. “We’re here to see Benjamin.”
“Oh, hey, Indi,” the woman said, looking up at last. “How was—”
She shot up from her chair.
Todd jumped back.
“Oh my God, you’re Todd Peters.”
“Uh, yeah,” Todd said, always taken aback by reactions like hers.
“My boyfriend is your biggest fan,” the woman said. “I mean, I’m a big fan, too. When Indi told me she was taking Benjamin to Richmond the other day, I told her she should take me along, too, only now look…you’re here. I didn’t have to go to Richmond—”
“Sam,” Indi said. “I know you’re excited, but, um, Linda wanted us to surprise Benjamin while he was getting chemo. You know how much he hates getting that, so we really need to move along. Todd will be around later.” She glanced over at him. “I’m sure he’d be happy to sign autographs and whatnot.”
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Sam said, wilting into her chair. “Sorry. Mr. Peters—”
“Todd,” he instantly corrected.
“Oh, yeah. Right. Todd,” she said, her voice sounding almost giddy. “If you’d just sign in for me here.”
Todd did as asked. Indi had already done her part, he noticed. She was halfway to the elevators by the time he’d finished. “Be back in a flash,” Indi called out to Sam.
“Benjamin is getting chemo?” he asked as they entered the brightly lit elevator.
Indi nodded. “It’s a new type. Experimental. They’re hoping it’ll work better than the last kind.”
Because if it didn’t…
They stopped on the second floor, and here again it looked just like any other hospital—signs pointing patients the right way, doctors in blue smocks cruising the corridors, nurses, too. Indi checked in with another nurse’s station, Todd suddenly aware that he was nervous.
“This way,” she said a second later, her nondescript pumps making hardly any noise against the gray carpet.
By the time they made it to Benjamin’s private room, Todd’s heart beat as hard as it did on race day.
“Knock-knock,” Indi said, tapping lightly on the door. She motioned for Todd to come in.
He had to force his feet forward because this was evidence, proof positive, that little Benjamin was sick. Terminally ill. At the racetrack it had been easy to forget that.
Not here.
The sight of Benjamin in a sterile hospital room, his tiny body engulfed by a huge hospital bed. Well, it was almost more than he could take.
Linda sat in a chair next to her son’s bed and, though her eyes lit up when she saw him, exhaustion clearly clung to her eyes.
“Benjamin,” she whispered. “Someone’s here to see you.”
Todd looked around. It was easier to do that than to look at the bed. Colorful posters filled the walls, toys and stuffed animals throughout the room. A television sat in one corner of the room—it was tuned to the Cartoon Network.
“Huh?” Benjamin asked, his eyes unfocused for a moment as he scanned the room.
Todd forced himself to look back at the bed. At Benjamin lying there, an IV strapped to his arm, the head that had been covered by a ballcap in Richmond completely bald.
“Todd,” he cried, and what nearly broke Todd’s heart, what made his breath catch, was how weak that cry was.
“Hey, tiger,” he said softly, not wanting to disturb the other children on the floor.
“What are you doing here?” Benjamin asked, his little hands digging at the covers as if he was trying to sit up but was too weak to do so. Linda soothed him back.
“I came to visit you,” Todd said. “I promised I would.”
“I know, but I didn’t think—”
That he’d actually show up. Why did everyone think that? “Surprised you, didn’t I?”
“Mark’s going to flip,” Benjamin croaked.
“Who’s Mark?”
“Don’t forget to wash your hands,” Indi said in a gentle voice.
And it was then that Todd realized he hung back, that he was afraid to go into the room, that the feeling in his stomach was the same ache he got when cars spun out in front of him and he had nowhere to go.
“Okay,” he said. He knew he was stalling.
“It’s over there,” Indi said, giving him a soft smile, one that made him wonder if she understood why he’d hung back. If his reaction was common. “To the right of the door.”
/>
Go, her eyes told him. You’ll be okay.
“Thanks.”
“Mark’s a Lance Cooper fan,” Benjamin explained. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Linda lean forward and help prop Benjamin up. “He’s going to flip when he hears you’re here.”
“Well, maybe after I’m done visiting you—” Todd’s eyes caught on the IV when he turned around “—we’ll go down and see him.”
The IV looked so ominous, the amount of fluid in it surely too much for such a small little boy….
“That’d be great.”
But a glance at Linda’s face and Todd could tell that a visit with his neighbor wasn’t in the cards. She shook her head just a fraction, chapped lips trying to smile. Todd nodded that he understood.
“How you feeling?” Todd asked.
“Okay,” Benjamin said. “Tired.”
And now that Todd was close enough to sit down he could see he was exhausted. Pale, too, his skin a grayish-yellow that set alarm bells to ringing.
“Are you still fighting that cold?” he asked.
“Nah. I still have the sniffles a bit, but it’s not a big deal.”
Indi scooted a chair forward and sat down, too. “They wouldn’t have given him the chemo if he wasn’t healthy enough to take it.”
“Oh,” Todd said, trying to come up with something to say. When he glanced around he spotted the checkered flag that he’d presented to Benjamin in Richmond.
Richmond.
How could a kid decline so rapidly in a matter of days?
“Does the chemo hurt?” Todd asked, scared to touch Benjamin, but wanting to clasp his hand.
“No. It just makes my mouth feel weird,” the kid admitted.
Todd swallowed over the sudden lump in his throat. “You going to be okay to come to camp? I mean, I know we talked about it, but that was before…”
He’d taken a turn for the worse. It was obvious to Todd and likely everyone in the room that Benjamin was dying.
Dying.
Todd had to look away again.
“I don’t know,” Benjamin said in a weak voice. “My mom doesn’t think it’s a good idea.”
Linda shook her head again.
Dying.
Total Control Page 12
