“How do you feel about that? I know you were very close to your parents.”
His question, although innocent, sparked tears in her eyes. Quickly looking away, Miranda blinked rapidly. It was utterly selfish, but she wanted them home; she wanted her father to be there to tell her everything was going to be okay while her mother hugged her tight. Although she could depend on her aunt Francine to help out, her father’s sister had her own household to deal with. Just as she almost gave in to a self-pity session, she found herself pulled into a man’s chest.
“It’s going to be okay,” he soothed.
For a moment she fought against his embrace, but it was all but impossible. No matter how much mental distance Miranda had been able to put between her and Caleb, her body still reacted to the scent of his cologne, the hard contours of his body and the strength of his arms.
She drew in a deep breath and opened her eyes. A blush roared into her cheeks. Every eye on the floor seemed to be watching their little show. Pulling back, Miranda pasted a smile on her face. “Thank you.”
“I’m here for you anytime you need me,” Caleb replied. “Now how about that cup of coffee?”
A few minutes later, as they sat across from one another at the back of the hospital cafeteria, Caleb leaned forward and placed his elbows on the round table. “I see this place more than I like.”
With a casual interest, Miranda eyed the shiny new PDA he placed on the table halfway between them and pried off the lid of her cup of coffee, added three containers of cream and a few scoops of sugar. She took a minute to stir and then took a sip. The rich French vanilla flavor felt warm and smooth going down her throat. She knew that it would take at least ten to fifteen minutes for the caffeine to be absorbed into her bloodstream, but just the taste made her feel more alert.
“Thank you, God,” she said with a smile on her lips.
His mouth curved upward into a warm grin. “Still not a morning person, are you?”
“Actually, I love mornings. I adore them. I usually get into the office at seven. But this past week has completely disrupted my schedule.”
Over the large cup of coffee, Miranda stared at her ex-boyfriend. Years had passed since they’d seen each other, and here they were, after all this time, sitting across from one another like old friends. But they’d never been real best friends. He’d been her soul mate, her first lover, her first love and the last man to break her heart and her trust.
He still looked wonderful—tall, boyish yet distinguished and devastatingly handsome. His skin was a deep earth and his face was clean-shaven with masculine contours and angles. His midnight brows were coal black and finely arched over discerning eyes. She’d seen all the men in his family, and when Caleb reached the age of forty his hair would turn salt-and-pepper, enhancing his already nice-looking face. She’d loved him once, loved him enough to stand up to her brother, enough to overlook his semimanipulative ways and socioeconomic status.
Misgivings and self-doubts she’d thought long buried rose as Miranda remembered meeting Caleb’s family and friends for the first time. Although they’d grown up mere miles from one another, it might have been another country for the differences. She’d gone to public school and fought for a scholarship to college; Caleb had graduated from one of the top private high schools in the southeast. She’d lived on campus in a dorm and participated in the work-study program; Caleb lived off campus in a luxury condo.
At the time she’d somehow convinced herself that none of the material things had mattered. What mattered was how she’d felt; and she’d felt more than she could ever imagine. Even when they fought she’d loved him; after breaking up she’d loved him. Only her family had witnessed the fallout from the night she’d shown up at his apartment and seen him with another woman.
She couldn’t eat or drink for days. The next week, after a chance run-in with Caleb’s younger brother had left her in tears in the frozen-food aisle of the local grocery store, it became crystal clear she needed to get away. Rescue from her own misery had come in the form of a job offer in D.C. The process of packing up her things, finding a new place to live and moving there allowed for little time to feel sorry for herself. Her work at the Justice Department helped her cope with the loss of the one true love of her life, and her new friendships had helped her smile again.
Still, she’d seen a psychiatrist for a month because Miranda had gotten to the point where she didn’t think she could stop loving the man. Shaken with the very memory, she forced her mind to stop and concentrate on the reason she was in the hospital to begin with. “Thank you for saving my brother’s life,” she rushed.
“Miranda, I haven’t earned your gratitude. I wasn’t on duty the night your brother was brought into the emergency room.”
“Oh.”
“But I will be taking over his case and administering treatment for his time in the hospital and if he chooses I can assist with his outpatient rehabilitation and follow-up treatment.”
“You put that nicely,” she replied with a weak smile. “I think in this matter I won’t be giving Darren a choice. I’ve done my homework and you’re the best, Caleb. If you’re willing to help, we can’t afford to turn you down.”
“Did you’re research, huh?”
“Some of the nurses couldn’t stop singing your praises. They may have been a little biased, but they were honest. You’re a good doctor.”
“Good luck in convincing Darren of that.”
“Don’t worry, I can handle my older brother.”
“You look great, Miranda.”
She took a sip of her coffee. “That’s the second time you’ve said that, Caleb.”
His brows rose and then he recalled giving her a compliment during the elevator ride down. “Then it’s doubly true.”
She placed her cup on the table and sighed. “Look, Caleb. This is really awkward.”
“It doesn’t have to be. What’s past is past, right?”
“Yes and no. It took me a long time to get over what went down between us. And I may have gotten over it, but I can’t forget what you did.”
Part of him wanted to just give up and let go, but part of him that was practically turning backflips in enjoyment of Miranda’s presence held out hope of getting her back into his life.
“I didn’t know she was in my bed that night, Miranda. I thought—”
She cut him off. “That it was me. I know. You told me that a million times. And the truth be told, I believe you, Caleb. I used that night as an out. We were different and eventually we would have broken up.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Long-distance relationships don’t last. You were about to go to Stanford and I didn’t want to leave the East Coast. We would have seen each other maybe once a month or less.”
“We could have made it work. You could have flown up on a weekend and I could have come down.”
She shook her head. They could have made it work on his terms. She would have been more of a trophy girlfriend. They’d had their fiercest fights about money when they were dating. Caleb had plenty of it. He bought her diamond earrings for Christmas, expensive handbags for fun, delivered flowers to her dorm room just because. She may have wanted to go to a local diner for breakfast, but he would pick her up in his BMW and drive up to Buckhead for champagne mimosas and gourmet brunch.
The thing was that it was natural for him and over the top for her. And no matter how many times she tried to communicate it to him, nothing worked. It was insane that she would resent him for spoiling her, for loving her too much, but she had. After spending most of her life under the slightly smothering supervision of her brother and father, she’d wanted to spread her wings more in college. But the deeper they got into the relationship the more Caleb had resembled the men in her family.
She looked at him levelly for a moment and then down at the cup she held in her hand. “That’s water under the bridge, Caleb. There’s no sense in us resurrecting the past. Why don’t we j
ust concentrate on the present?”
“The present.” He seemed to stare at her left hand and frowned. The hospital intercom beeped. They heard a doctor being paged to the O.R. Otherwise the quiet murmurs of the other cafeteria patrons drifted into the heavy silence at their table.
“I suppose you want me to forget about what we had?” he said leaning forward.
It wasn’t just what Caleb had said, it was the way he said it that had goose bumps pricking the back of Miranda’s neck.
“I think that would be best,” she said cautiously.
“What kind of lowlife, irresponsible man do you think I am, Miranda? How can you sit there, look me in the eyes and expect me to walk away from her?”
She looked at him and frowned in exasperation. “Her? What are you talking about?”
“My daughter,” he said, piercing her with his razor-sharp ebony eyes.
Chapter 3
If he had suddenly grown another head and sprouted wings, he couldn’t have shocked her more. For long moments, she couldn’t speak, couldn’t move and could barely even breathe. She felt her mouth hanging slack in an expression attributed to the crazed. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“But I don’t believe what I heard.” Miranda meant to stand up and move away, but before she could move his fingers wrapped around her wrist like a vise. Then, to make it appear as though they were having an intimate conversation, he leaned in close and smiled—a chilling upward turn of his lips she couldn’t help but appreciate even though she was still stunned by his accusation.
“You seem surprised,” he said, his voice crackling with emotion. “Did you think that I wouldn’t find out that you came here with a little girl? A ten-year-old?”
Not only furious but still caught off guard, she ceased struggling, sat back down and took a deep breath. “Let me go, Caleb.”
“Tell me about Kelly.”
“Fine!” she ground out through clenched teeth. “She looks younger than she really is. Kelly’s eleven years old. Ryan and I have cared for her since she was a toddler.”
“Ryan?” The menace in Caleb’s voice sent a second wave of ice down her spine.
“My ex-husband,” Miranda elaborated.
Caleb’s gaze darkened and his brows pulled together in a furious frown. “You got married after you left Atlanta?”
Inwardly Miranda shivered. She’d spent over an hour in front of the mirror practicing for this moment, but the reality of his fingers biting into her arm hadn’t been part of the rehearsal. She swallowed and barely managed to keep her voice even as she responded. “We met right after I started working in Washington.”
“I guess it didn’t take you long to find someone after you left me, did it?” he sarcastically asked. “Makes me wonder if you ever really loved me.”
His words were like a kick to her teeth. He thought that she’d never loved him! She’d spent over a year in therapy relearning how to live her life without him. Indignation filled her throat. If she hadn’t taken the necessary steps to end their relationship, she would have had to move to California or he would have had to stay out of school for a year and reapply to a medical school in the D.C. area. With either option, they both would have been miserable. The way that Miranda saw it, he should have been thanking her.
“I walked in on you with another woman, Caleb. And after the pain and humiliation dissipated, I forgave you. How dare you question my feelings when I loved you enough to let you go?” she said angrily. “If we’d stayed together, I would have ended up a trophy wife and blamed you for my never having a career.”
Caleb released her and placed his fists on the table. His features turned to ice and the dark brown eyes gazing at her were filled with pain and anger. “So I should be grateful to this ex-husband of yours for saving me from a life with you?”
“You should be grateful that I don’t slap you,” she said. Each word was perfectly and slowly pronounced.
“Miranda—”
She held up a hand. “No, Caleb. I think we’ve said more than enough. Our relationship ended over eleven years ago. What I did and I am doing after that period is none of your business.”
“If the child is mine, then it is my business. I’ve done nothing but obsess about the way we left things between us. I know that you were angry and you wanted to hurt me. I forgive you. You don’t have to lie to me, Miranda. Just tell me the truth. Is she my daughter?”
“I am telling you the truth.” The words flew out of her mouth even though her mind called it a lie. For the hundredth time since she’d agreed to take responsibility for Kelly, Miranda was grateful for the drama classes her mother had recommended she take as an elective in high school.
“Miranda,” he said with such authority that she froze. “Swear to me that she’s not my child.”
Not wanting him to think that she was guilty, she met his stare again, righteous indignation exuding from her every pore. “She is my child, not yours. I knew her mother and when she died in a car crash, I was given custody of her daughter because she had no parents and the father was also deceased. The formal adoption only went through last year. I may have thought that you were the scum of the earth for cheating on me, but I’ve never doubted that you would be a wonderful father for any child and I would never keep a child from their true parents.” The last sentence resounded with the truth.
He released her wrists and she snatched them back and began massaging them.
Miranda eyed him warily across the table. His shoulders slumped forward and he looked everywhere but her face. The furrows of his brow deepened and for a split second, she wanted to reach over and soothe them away as she’d done years ago.
“I didn’t want to believe that you could do something like that, but…” His voice trailed off.
“But?” she prompted.
“You were so adamant that I forget the past that I thought you wanted to hide her from me.”
“Caleb,” she gently chided. “I work for the logistics and planning department of the Witness Protection Agency, so I help hide people for a living. Even if I didn’t, do you honestly think I would have been dumb enough to show up in this town with a Blackfox child and not have anyone realize her? All it would take is a trip to the grocery store and I would have every member in your family banging on the front door.”
He at least had the decency to look embarrassed. “Look, Miranda, I didn’t think. I was angry.”
“Well get over it, Caleb. I have a sick brother and a little girl to think about. I don’t have enough bandwidth to add you to my list right now.”
“You’re right.”
She didn’t know if it was her tone or her words that had reached him, but something did. Cautiously, she let go of the breath she’d been holding and pushed her chair back. The wooden legs squeaked on the linoleum floor. “You’ll continue as my brother’s doctor?” she asked after standing.
“You still want that?”
She nodded. “Sure. I’m going to check in on Darren before I leave. Goodbye, Caleb.”
“One last question, Miranda. Did you love him?”
Her breath caught in her throat as she exhaled. He meant Ryan, her fictional ex-husband. She was a good liar, but she wasn’t that good. Instead she softly replied, “I trusted him.”
And then without another word she left the room.
“My ex-husband.”
Caleb inhaled deeply as Miranda turned on her heel and strode out of the cafeteria. All the while his eyes never left the curvaceous backside.
Damn it, she’d walked out on him again. He closed his eyes as anger and disbelief stabbed his gut.
His first love had become some other man’s wife. And it was all his fault.
Burying his face in his hands, his mind went back to that day. Their graduation ceremony was less than two weeks away and he’d just gotten the letter in the mail. After months on the waiting list, he’d been lucky enough to have been accepted into his first-choice medical school.
Feeling ready to celebrate, he’d thrown a small party at his place and invited all of his buddies. He’d left messages on Miranda’s voice mail and expected her to attend. It hadn’t taken much to spread the word. And a few phone calls, along with his American Express card, had secured a number of tables at the local club, top-shelf alcohol and food for the night. After his friends had arrived and the party had started, everything became a messy blur of memories lost in a mix of alcohol.
The next morning, the alarm clock had startled Caleb out of his blissful alcoholic slumber and thrust him into a nightmarish world of pain and regret. When he’d slowly opened his eyes, with relief he’d found himself in his own bed. But the relief quickly disappeared. On the hangover scale of one to ten, his was a fifty. His head felt like a dangerously overinflated basketball being drib-bled by a sadistic toddler, and his stomach felt like an octopus getting electrocuted. He sniffed and the smell of smoke and liquor seeped from every pore.
An hour later, after a long shower, he’d finally dragged himself to the kitchen in hopes of getting an aspirin. Just as he crossed the living area, something caught his eye. A bag from his favorite Chinese restaurant, a bottle of wine and a wrapped gift sat on the dining room table. And the fog of the remaining alcohol in his bloodstream cleared as he remembered how he’d gotten home the night before. With precision clarity, he saw his friends dumping him into the backseat of his car and giving Jessica Greene the keys. His gut twisted at the realization that Miranda had possibly walked in before Jessica had left him passed out on the bed.
Caleb got out of his chair and picked up the empty coffee cups. He’d rushed to Miranda’s dorm room only to find it empty, and then driven like a maniac to her parents’ house. After two weeks of calling and pleading with her family, she’d agreed to see him only to say she never wanted to see him again.
His jaw clenched. Last time he’d walked away.
Never again.
The Very Thought of You Page 3
