by Ami Weaver
“You’ve done well, Mack.” The observation slipped out and he turned to her with surprise. “You fit here.”
He moved toward her, his gaze sharp. “As would you, Darcy.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m good in Chicago. I love it there.”
“Do you?” He moved closer still and she edged back, but the hallway wall stopped her. “Do you really?”
He wasn’t holding her in place, but Darcy couldn’t seem to move. It was as if her cells had missed him so much she needed to soak up his nearness, his heat, as if he were the sun. She swallowed. “Yes,” she whispered.
He moved a little closer and braced one arm on the wall, his gaze never leaving hers, the heat and want there a mirror of her own. “Darcy,” he murmured, then lowered his head to settle his mouth on hers.
Her eyes drifted closed and she savored the sweetness of the kiss, which quickly turned to fire as he nipped at her lip. She opened for him and the kiss went from sweet to spicy in a heartbeat.
She slid her arms around his neck and let her fingers play in the longer hair there. He plunged his fingers in her hair and deepened the kiss even more. Fire licked through her, and brought with it the roaring desire she’d always had with Mack.
All of a sudden he wrenched back and left her, nearly panting, against the wall. “God, Darcy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean— I overstepped.”
Her face burned. Sorry. Of course he was. “Are you saying we need to just forget it happened?”
He didn’t seem to sense the trap. “Yeah, I think that’d be best.”
He couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d physically struck her. She swallowed hard and lifted her chin. “Well. Consider it forgotten.” She darted around him and he let her go.
He let out a curse as the door shut behind her. He’d made a royal mess of it. Not the first time. They’d been making strides toward a fragile peace and then he went and gave in to the need to push her, to touch her, to kiss her. To get her to admit she’d made a mistake. Now she’d be back to avoiding him.
Maybe that was for the best. Maybe they couldn’t manage “friends” after all. Especially with kisses like that hanging between them.
He walked back to his office and looked out the window to confirm her car was gone. He didn’t want to admit he was more than disappointed she’d left. He hadn’t been able to give her a reason to stay when it mattered most, so why did he think it’d be different now?
He was a fool. A fool for Darcy Kramer. It seemed he’d learned nothing over the past several years.
She’d leave—again—and that’d be the end.
This time for good.
* * *
Mack had kissed her. Really kissed her.
And she’d melted all over.
The memory of it swirled through her system, like the snowflakes that danced in her headlights. A little shiver ran through her. No one had ever kissed like Mack did, made her feel like Mack did. Not that she had much experience outside of Mack. She’d shut that part of her down.
Of course, he’d also suggested it had been a mistake. So there was that. She tried to ignore the spike of disappointment and remind herself it was for the best.
She snapped out of her reverie when she pulled into the driveway and saw an ambulance parked there. In a heartbeat the panic set in. She threw the car in Park with a gasp and ran up to the door, where she saw her uncle strapped to the gurney and her aunt’s ashen face.
“Uncle Joe! Aunt Marla, what happened?” She stood to the side so the paramedics could load her uncle in the ambulance.
“His heart.” Marla turned stricken eyes on Darcy. “He’s having pain, shortness of breath, all of it.”
Darcy inhaled deeply and took her aunt’s arm. “I’ll drive you up to the hospital,” she said as the nearby paramedic nodded as they climbed into the vehicle. “Let’s go.”
They hurried back to her still warm car and Darcy bounced down the driveway behind the ambulance. Marla sat beside her and even in the dark, Darcy could feel the tension and fear rolling off her aunt.
* * *
Hours passed, and Marla looked up at Darcy. “You’d better call Mack. Let him know.”
Darcy inhaled sharply. While she knew her aunt was right, the thought made her own heart beat irregularly. She kept her voice calm. “I don’t have his number. If you can put it in my phone, I’ll do that now.”
Marla nodded, apparently not reading anything on her face, so Darcy pulled her phone out. It was late. Would he even answer? She’d left in such a hurry.
The phone rang twice. Then Mack’s voice, low and calm. “Hello?”
Darcy took a deep breath. “It’s me. Darcy,” she added lamely, momentarily tangled up in the propriety of how to identify herself to the man she’d been married to yet hadn’t spoken to for seven years until the past week or so.
“Darcy?” The question he didn’t ask was clear in his tone. “Is everything okay?”
“Um, not really. Uncle Joe’s in the hospital. Aunt Marla asked me to call you and let you know.” She folded her free arm across her middle and stared out at the parking lot, at the snow sifting down on the cars parked there. The coldness of the scene reflected how she felt inside.
“What happened?” He sounded much more alert now.
Darcy explained what she knew. “So it’s a waiting game now. I’m with Aunt Marla and some of her friends. They’re knitting.”
A little chuckle came over the line. “I’m sure they are. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
Darcy jumped and looked up to see Marla’s gaze on her. “Um. That’s not necessary. It’s so late—”
“See you then.”
The phone went dead in her hand and she pulled it away from her ear to stare at it, frustrated. There was no reason for him to be here. They weren’t married. Joe was going to be fine.
She walked back over to her aunt, who had needles flying in her hands. She looked up, but the needles never slowed. “Did you talk to him, then?”
Darcy dropped in a chair. “Yep. He said he’s on his way.”
“That’s good.” Marla didn’t miss a beat. “He’ll be a good source of support for you.”
“I don’t need him,” she said, too worried and too tired to care that this conversation had to take place in front of two of Marla’s best friends, who knew what had happened with her and Mack. And she almost believed what she’d said. Almost. Truth was, she’d love to lean on him. But the price was more than she could ever pay.
Marla’s needles clicked. “Maybe he needs to be here. He and Joe are close.”
Of course. Now Darcy just felt foolish. Mack had relationships outside of and independent of her. One of those was with her uncle.
She fidgeted in her chair. The steady click of needles should be calming, but, God, she just hated hospitals. The smell. The feeling. The urgency, the waiting, the memories of a stay here in this hospital, where she’d lost her baby and the seeds of destruction for her marriage had begun to bloom.
Now it had Uncle Joe in its grasp.
She took a deep breath, tried to calm the nerves. Marla needed her to be strong. But it all felt like yesterday.
She laid a hand on her belly lightly, knowing no life beat there. That the last time it had beat there was seven years ago. By the time she’d gotten here after the accident, it had already been too late. And it was possible she’d never get pregnant again. And while she hadn’t been ready at the time to be a mother, she’d had the opportunity ripped from her forever.
Of course, being a mother implied there was a man to get her pregnant. A marriage even. Someone who loved her and stood by her.
She thought she’d had a chance at that once, but she’d been wrong, as had the timing. Now that she was older and wiser, she was ready.
&n
bsp; But she’d lost the only man she’d ever wanted to share the dream with. Now she was here and so was he and she needed to finally put it all behind her. And forget she was in a hospital and focus on her uncle, who’d need her help more than ever, since he’d be laid up for most of the Christmas season. Which meant what? She’d have to stay? She’d worry about that later.
She was thinking positive. He’d be okay. He was too tough not to be.
But it was so hard to beat back the fear.
Chapter Six
Mack made it to the hospital in under fifteen minutes. Darcy hadn’t really said how Joe was, how Marla was. Equally important, how she was. He hurried in and up to the surgical waiting room. When he entered his gaze landed right on Darcy. She sat, arms folded over her middle, her face pinched and white, and stared at the TV, which ran a twenty-four-hour cable news show. Then he looked at Marla, whose expression was knowing despite the tension on her face.
Darcy looked over and he forgot to worry about what they thought.
She’d pulled her hair up in a clip, and pieces had slipped out and fallen all around her face. Memories of the last time they’d spent time in the hospital assaulted him, as they no doubt did her, as well. His gut twisted when she turned her pale face toward him and he saw etched on her face the pain and memories. Not to mention the fear for her uncle.
He crossed the floor but stopped short of pulling her in his arms, though every cell screamed that he needed to get closer, hold her, let her break down and get it all out.
She hadn’t let him comfort her when they were married. Why would now, when they were virtually strangers, be any different?
“Mack. You came.” It was Marla’s voice. Not the one he wanted to hear, but he turned to her and hugged her instead. Darcy wouldn’t meet his eyes over Marla’s head. Marla hugged him fiercely.
“She needs you,” she murmured in a low tone. “She’ll never admit it. Thank you for coming,” she added in a louder voice.
“Of course,” he said, choosing to ignore Marla’s words about Darcy. “Any news?”
Marla shook her head and he saw, with a pang, that she looked every one of her years. He’d always thought she was so strong, so youthful. Tonight, fear for her husband had aged her. “Not yet. They said hours, so—” She glanced at the clock.
Darcy came over and rubbed her aunt’s back. “Time goes so slow, doesn’t it?” He didn’t know if Marla caught the undertone of deep sorrow, but he did. He remembered all too well.
“Can you ladies use something from the cafeteria?” He could at least be useful.
One of Marla’s friends perked up. “That’s a great idea, Mack. Why don’t you and Darcy make a run?”
Mack turned to her. She wouldn’t like that suggestion, he knew. “Darcy?”
She looked like the proverbial deer caught in headlights. Before she could say anything, Marla spoke up. “He’ll need the extra set of hands, dear.”
Darcy inclined her head and offered a stiff smile to him. More of a baring of teeth than a real smile. “Well, then. Let’s hurry.”
She strode away toward the elevator, and he couldn’t help watching her slender hips sway. Jeez. What kind of guy stared at a woman’s rear when she was worried and scared and suffering from memories better left buried? He tried not to think of her mouth, hot and mobile under his, just a couple hours ago.
He moved after her and stepped into the elevator as she jabbed the button for the basement and therefore the cafeteria. She leaned against the wall of the car, her arms folded tightly across her chest, her stance screaming “leave me alone.”
He couldn’t. “Darcy.” He kept his tone gentle, his stance relaxed. Her gaze shifted to his, then away. “I know what you’re going through.”
At that her gaze shot to his and she straightened up. “I doubt it very much, Mack.”
“You’re thinking about that night. It’s hard to be here.”
“But yet you came,” she said, and there was a thread of bitterness under her words.
“Of course I did. Joe and Marla are important to me.”
Now her gaze was full of pain. “That’s good,” she murmured.
He moved closer, trapping her in the corner. “Am I wrong?”
She shook her head. “Not as long as you’re here for them only. What went wrong with us can’t be fixed, Mack.”
“I lied.”
She drew back, whether from the words or the heat in his tone, he wasn’t sure. He forged on, pinning her in the corner with his gaze, careful not to touch her. “I’m not sorry I kissed you earlier.”
She blinked and the elevator door opened. He turned and walked out, sure if he didn’t get away right then, he’d give in and kiss her until the pain in her eyes went away. Until the past wouldn’t wedge between them anymore.
* * *
Darcy followed him into the cafeteria, a little surprised at how busy it was for midnight. But far more shocked by Mack’s arrival and his words in the elevator. She’d been working darn hard on a righteous anger and he’d just popped it like a balloon.
She needed the anger to keep her distance. To keep the fear for her uncle at bay.
Right now she was too wrung out to sulk about it.
Mack handed her a tray and proceeded to pile it with crackers, cookies and some fruit. Her hands trembled, but she managed to hold the tray.
He tipped her chin up with one finger. “Hey,” he said softly. She blinked back the tears the gesture threatened to break loose. She would not cry, not here, not now, not ever...
He took the tray and set it down, then pulled her in as the dam broke. She couldn’t help it, she burrowed in, and he wrapped her up tight, murmuring words she couldn’t quite understand, but the tone was soothing. He pressed his lips to her hair. She felt the light kisses even as she sobbed out her fear and anger and regrets into the chest of the man she’d loved more than life itself and had lost.
Finally, she wasn’t sure how long it took, but her sobs subsided into hiccups and it dawned on her where she was. She didn’t have the energy to break away, even though she knew she needed to. They stood like that, the steady pound of his heart calming her, his heat seeping into places she hadn’t known she was cold.
“Better?” His voice was a rumble under her ear. He didn’t loosen his grip, but she nodded against his chest and pulled away slightly. He loosened his grip but didn’t let her go.
“Oh, no.” She touched his shirt lightly. It was wet and sported mascara smears. “I made a mess. I’m sorry.” She must look a fright, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, even if she was covered in snot, mascara and tears.
He ran his hands up her arms and she became aware they were in a public place, and even though it was late, they had an audience. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to break the contact. “I don’t care, Darce. It’ll wash.”
She stepped back and he let her go, with what looked like regret on his face. “Thank you,” she whispered, feeling too emotionally flayed to pretend any different. It was the first time she’d cried over all this in seven years. Once she’d realized he was going to just let her walk away, she’d been unable to cry. To grieve what they’d lost. She’d locked it all down.
They paid for their purchases and headed back to the elevator. There she simply stood next to him and drew from his strength. Their arms touched, and the small contact was enough.
It felt good. She’d worry about how dangerous it was another day.
* * *
Back in the waiting room, Marla looked up when they walked in. Darcy knew her aunt took in her tear-ravaged face when her gaze softened. Mack held up the bag and inclined his head toward the cardboard container of drinks Darcy held.
“Food and coffee. Both hospital-grade, but that can’t be helped.”
Marla
managed a small smile at his joke. “Thank you, you two.” She glanced at the clock. “Shouldn’t be long now.”
Marla’s friend Carol came over, snagged two coffees and handed one to Marla. “Not too long,” she agreed.
Darcy took her aunt a cookie and set it on a napkin next to her. Marla’s smile was faint but real. She reached forward and pulled Darcy into a hug.
“Oh, honey. You okay?” she whispered.
Darcy nodded. She needed to address this head-on. “I just had a moment. I’m fine now. You?”
Marla sat back. “I’m hanging in there,” she said with a fierce nod. “He’ll be okay.”
“Yes, he will,” Darcy agreed. It simply couldn’t go any other way.
She couldn’t sit, so she walked back to the window while Aunt Marla’s needles clicked away. She held her cooling coffee in both hands and stared at the parking lot. A fine layer of snow coated all the vehicles in the lot. Mack came and stood beside her. He said nothing, just leaned against the wall near her. She decided to be grateful for that. She could allow the small chink in her armor.
As long as she fixed it tomorrow.
The phone rang and the nurse manning the station answered, speaking in low tones. When she hung up, she said, “Family of Joe Kramer?”
Marla leaped up, Carol catching her knitting as it flew from her lap. Darcy hurried to her side, her heart pounding, her palms clammy. Please, please, please let him be okay. She slipped her arm around her aunt’s shoulders, felt her take a deep breath. “That’s us,” she said.
“Come with me,” the nurse said. “The doctor will talk to you back here.”
They followed her wordlessly back to the room she indicated, where the surgeon was already waiting. He rose to his feet and extended his hand to Marla. “Mrs. Kramer. I’m Dr. Peterson. First of all, let me assure you your husband came through surgery just fine.”
Darcy’s breath whooshed out at the same time Marla said, “Oh, thank God.” Darcy hugged her aunt hard, relief flooding her.
