Deserve

by C. C. Snow

  Forcing my disturbing thoughts away, I flick my finger at her nose. “You still have your freckles!” To my regret, the small smattering of beige spots has faded. Maggie has always hated her freckles, but I think they’re adorable.

  She pouts and touches her nose self-consciously.

  I stifle a groan as I stare at that plush lower lip sticking out. It glistens wetly, begging to be sucked on.

  Rowan, get your shit together. This is Cael’s sister.

  “Uh…where’s your luggage?”

  Her big eyes round. “Oh!” She laughs and runs back to grab her bags. My long strides overtake hers and I reach her luggage before she does.

  “Oh my God! Cael will say I’m such a scatterbrain. But I’m really not! I’m glad nobody took my stuff, but when I saw you, I ran without thinking. Promise me you won’t tell him.”

  I smile at her mile-a-minute chatter. This is classic Maggie. “I won’t say a word.”

  As I heave one of her suitcases into the trunk, I pretend to stagger from the weight, “Jesus, Mags. What did you pack in this thing? No wonder nobody stole this. Cement bricks don’t exactly sell on the black market.”

  Two pink spots appear on her cheeks and she tugs on a red curl. “Um…books. I needed them for school!” Maggie has always been the biggest bookworm.

  “Of course you did. You do realize New York is the publishing capital of the world?”

  “I get it, Mr. Moneybags.” She rolls her eyes. “But some of us can’t afford to buy a new collection whenever we move.”

  I chuckle, relieved our dynamics are settling back into an old pattern. Teasing. Sibling-like.

  But when she bends down to pick up her carryon to hand to me, my gaze fixes on her ass again. I curse myself, but those smooth globes are like my own personal magnets. When she turns to me, I flick my gaze away and have to fight the blood threatening to flood my face. I don’t remember the last time I was afflicted with embarrassment, but Jesus, I was almost caught salivating over her buttocks. I close my eyes, but the image of the succulent upside-down heart is seared into my brain.

  “Thanks for picking me up, Sean.”

  I swing my arm around her shoulders and squeeze. “Don’t mention it, Maggie. I’m glad you’re here. Ready for the big bad city?”

  She practically vibrates with excitement. “Yes! But is the big bad city ready for me?” She raises her little fists and scrunches up her face fiercely, making me laugh.

  This is another thing that has not changed. Her indomitable zest for life.

  “No, I don’t think New York is ready for you at all,” I tease.

  Before I can hold the door open for her, she’s already clambering into the seat and closing the door closed behind her.

  As I walk to the driver’s side, I cuss myself under my breath.

  No more lusting after Cael’s baby sister.

  Chapter Four

  Maggie

  I peek at him under my lashes and swallow the breathy sigh threatening to push through my lips.

  As soon as I saw him standing on the curb, masculine face taut with concentration, all the old feelings came rushing back. Only this time, it was worse. This time a heaviness I never felt as a teenager sat low in my belly.

  I didn’t think it was possible—it’s really against the laws of nature—but the man has become more gorgeous. Maturity has hardened the angles of his face, giving him a predatory sharpness to his features that is mesmerizing. When he looks directly at me, I get sucked into the electric blue of his eyes.

  Stop daydreaming, Maggie. You’re not seventeen-years-old anymore.

  I mentally shake myself and rein in my wayward feelings.

  With sure movements, he guides his Jaguar into traffic. Once he’s on the freeway, he throws me a grin and I’m glad I’m sitting down. “It really is great to see you, Mags!”

  “You too.”

  “Why don’t we drop your things off at the dorm and then we’ll grab lunch?”

  My heart gives a little jump at the thought of going out with him.

  It’s not a date, Maggie.

  “Um…sure, I’d like that.” I take out my phone. “I better text Cael before he calls the NYPD or the Coast Guard.”

  Sean chuckles at my semi-exaggeration, but he can afford to find it funny.

  Arrived in NY. Sean just picked me up and we are headed to the dorms.

  My brother must have been waiting for my text because his response is immediate: Good. Be careful. Don’t walk alone at night.

  “Ugh…when will he realize I’m not a kid any more?” I complain and text back: I’ll bring my bodyguard detail wherever I go.

  Response: Brat.

  I smile sadly as I picture his exasperated expression. This move is good for both of us, but I know I’ll miss him. After analyzing Rachel’s words ad nauseum, I realize there’s a kernel of truth in them. If he is to find happiness, he needs to let go of his outsized sense of responsibility to me.

  “So I guess Cael has a bit of an empty nest syndrome?” Sean asks.

  I wrinkle my nose and put away my phone. “I don’t know why. I stayed in the dorms for four years at Urbana-Champaign. I would think he’s used to it.”

  “I think it’s the distance. New York is in a whole different state after all and you know how Cael is about control.”

  I nod. My brother has always been a control freak, but it’s gotten worse since our mom died. I know it’s rooted in the guilt he felt for not being there when Mom got sick. “Maybe in a few months, he’ll realize I can take care of myself.”

  “Maybe,” he says skeptically. “I think Cael will see you as a little girl for the rest of his life.”

  I stick out my bottom lip and blow a curl out of my face. “Yeah. Sadly true, but a girl can wish.” Turning to look at his profile, I ask, “So how have you been? How far down the list of supermodels have you gone?”

  “Brat!” he accuses with a small smile on his lips.

  I make a face at the hated word. It used to be a term of affection from my brother, but Rachel has forever tainted it. “So, how’s work?”

  “It’s going. Marc and I are gathering witness testimony to close out a case, but…” He rubs the tension from his neck and places his hand back on the steering wheel. “The unsolved cases keep piling up. Sometimes it feels like we hardly make a dent.”

  The frustration is clear in his voice and I reach out to touch his forearm in sympathy. “I’m sure you guys are doing your best and every solved case means one less criminal on the streets. You have to see each one as a step toward justice. Instead of seeing all the work ahead of you, it helps to look back and see how far you’ve come.”

  “You’re right. You’re so damn smart.” Flashing a white smile, he covers my hand with his and squeezes, sending warmth traveling down my arm.

  Flustered, I cut off the contact by placing my hand in my lap. “So…um…how’s your dad?”

  I regret the question as soon as it leaves my lips because Sean’s face hardens. I’ve met George Rowan twice and both times he was very nice to me, but father and son have a fraught relationship. I asked Cael about it, but even he doesn’t know why they are always at odds.

  “He’s fine. Especially since he won re-election last year.”

  “Good. I’m glad.” I frown at the sneer in Sean’s voice, but I don’t delve deeper. I decide to change the subject to something light and ask, “So what do you think of the latest book from Patricia Cornwell? And the one from James Montanari? I heard it’s really good, but I haven’t gotten my hands on it yet.”

  For the rest of the ride, we argue about the latest mystery slash suspense novels. I admit I started reading the genre when I saw how much Sean liked the books, but now I love them on their own merits, especially when the writer gets the details of the murders just right. Call me grisly, but as a future doctor, I like accurate anatomical details.

  We pull up to my dorm and there is a long line of cars and vans double-parked outside.r />
  I unclip my seatbelt. “Let me drop off my things and I’ll be right back. In the housing email, they said someone has to stay with the car.”

  Sean nods, gets out of the vehicle and opens the trunk. His biceps flex as he places my heavy bags onto the sidewalk, but unlike earlier, he easily lifts them without any strain. Faker.

  Rolling my suitcases behind me, I walk into the hall and can’t suppress a shiver of excitement. It feels unreal that I’m here. From the dazed looks on many of the other students, I know they must feel the same. I have been working hard to get to this point for a long time and now I’m finally in medical school. I take a deep breath and savor the occasion.

  Grinning happily, I check in and take the elevator to my floor. Students nod at me as they pass me in the hall and I want to stop to introduce myself, but I also want to go back to Sean as quickly as possible. Promising myself I will have plenty of time to meet my fellow students later, I drop off my things in my room and then hurry downstairs.

  Sean is leaning against his dark green car, his thick arms crossed over his chest and his legs crossed at the ankles. His pose is deceptively casual, but his cop’s eyes are never still. I imagine it’s an ingrained habit even he’s unaware of.

  I notice a number of women staring hungrily at him and I smile ruefully. I can’t blame them. His broad shoulders alone make my mouth water. And my panties uncomfortably damp. Damn, I need to stop thinking about him like this.

  He spots me immediately and stands upright. “All set?”

  “Yup.” I practically skip the few steps to his side.

  Chuckling at my bounciness, he opens the door for me. He slides into the driver’s seat and asks, “What do you feel like eating?”

  “Ooh…can we have halal food?” I have been to New York a few times and I love eating the spicy chicken and rice dish.

  “Of all the great places you could eat in New York, you want to eat street food?” he asks, blue eyes laughing at me.

  Imagining the cosmopolitan women he is used to, I feel momentarily embarrassed by my simple tastes. “We don’t have to.” I pull on a corkscrew curl nervously and let it bounce back. Even knowing I look like Orphan Annie when I do it, I can’t stop the gesture.

  “I know the perfect vendors,” he says decisively and starts the engine.

  I smile in relief and sit back as Sean maneuvers the car through the maddening Manhattan traffic. After we park, he guides me through Midtown, his hand touching my back to steer me in the right direction. I try to hide the effect he has on me, but my spine tingles with each graze of his fingers.

  We reach the food cart and stand at the end of a long line. The tantalizing smell of grilled meat wafts to me and I do a little dance in place. My stomach gives a faint rumble and I peer at Sean to see if he heard the embarrassing sound.

  “You know, one look at you and everyone will know you’re not from New York.”

  I blink up at him and then look down at myself in bewilderment. I dressed for comfort for the plane ride in a t-shirt, jersey skirt and leather sandals, but I don’t think I look outlandish. “How can they tell?”

  “Because you’re the only one in line who doesn’t look annoyed to have to wait,” he says with a smile and then jerks his chin at the rest of the customers.

  A glance at the scowling men and women ahead of us, sighing and glancing at their watches impatiently, confirms his theory. I shrug my shoulders and smile wryly. “Life’s too short to be a grump.” I’m too happy to let something inconsequential kill my good mood. I’m in New York City and I’m starting medical school. My smile grows bigger.

  “How is it you’re related to Cael?” Sean asks in a wondering tone.

  “He is a bit of a grouch, isn’t he?”

  “He’s Oscar. All that’s missing is the garbage can.”

  I laugh, picturing my brother’s face on the Sesame Street character. “He’s not that bad, but he needs to lighten up if he’s going to get someone to date him for longer than a few months.”

  “Another one bites the dust?”

  “Not yet, but it’s a close call.” I frown and consider his deteriorating relationship with Rachel. A few days after their fight, they made up, but I could tell things were precarious. Hopefully, my absence will ease the tension between them.

  “What about you? Leave any broken hearts behind in Chicago?” Sean asks with a teasing grin.

  I curse my fair skin as I feel the blood climb my cheeks. “No.” I’ve only had one serious boyfriend, but we broke up last year when he graduated. Asher was moving to the West Coast and I realized I didn’t love him enough to move out there with him and he didn’t love me enough to stay on the East Coast.

  “That’s probably for the best.” My heart soars and then plummets when he adds, “Since you’ll want to find a doctor boyfriend.”

  Shoving aside my disappointment, I lean toward him and whisper loudly, “I hear they make terrible boyfriends. They always have their eyes on the nurses.”

  “If someone ever hurts you, I’ll beat the shit out of them.”

  Taken aback by his serious tone, I say hurriedly, “I was just kidding.”

  He smiles evilly and cracks his knuckles. “I wasn’t.”

  “Ugh…you’re just like Cael.”

  “That’s not true. When I punch someone, I do it with a smile instead of a scowl.” He shows a mouthful of perfect teeth.

  I try to look disapproving, but a giggle escapes.

  We finally get to the front of the line and order our food.

  “Extra red sauce, please,” I request and the man shoots me a conspiratorial grin. He squirts an extra large dollop onto my chicken and wraps up my plate. He’s fast and efficient and we have our food in our hands in what feels like seconds.

  “Where do you want to eat this? We can drive to the park—”

  Without thinking about it, I grab Sean’s hand and a current runs up my arm. “I saw some benches back there.” Self-consciously, I drop his hand and start walking to the small outdoor area I saw earlier.

  It’s already two p.m. and there are plenty of free spaces. We find a shady spot and set our take-out trays on the stone table.

  “My mouth is already watering from the smell.” I open my box and take a deep inhale.

  “I see you still love spicy foods,” he remarks on the red liquid smothering my chicken.

  “Yup!” I lift a forkful to my mouth and savor the blast of burning heat. I flap my hand over my mouth as it forms an o.

  Sean laughs and hands me a bottle of water. “A little too much for you?”

  “Hell no! It’s just right. Spicy enough to be painful.” Despite my breezy words, I take a big gulp of water. The first bite is always a shock to the taste buds.

  “That doesn’t sound like food. That sounds like torture.” He starts eating his own rice and gyros. No red sauce.

  “The pain lets you know you’re alive!” I say cheerfully and laugh at his disbelieving expression.

  For long minutes, we eat quietly. I’m gratified to see that Sean is enjoying the peasant fare as much as I am.

  “I can’t believe you’re going to be a doctor.” Sean finishes his food and sets the empty plate to the side.

  I wave my fork with a flourish. “Believe it. Get used to calling me Dr. Jackson.”

  Grinning, he takes a swig of his own drink. “What specialty?”

  “Pediatrics.”

  He raises a sleek brow. “What made you want to become a pediatrician?”

  “I like kids.” I have found that when people ask the question, they are not really curious. They only want an easy and expedient answer.

  He slants me a look and says, “Come on, Mags. I know there’s more to it than that.”

  I should have known Sean would not be satisfied with the pat reply. Maybe it’s his training as a cop. Maybe it’s just his inherently incisive nature, but he always seems to sense when there’s more.

  “Tell me,” he urges.

 
Feeling pleasantly full, I put down my fork and place the box on the seat next to us. I take a long sip of my water before I start to explain. “Well, it’s true. I do like kids.” I curl up a leg and tuck my ankle under my right thigh. “Did Cael ever tell you about the time I had appendicitis?”

  “No. How old were you?”

  “I was seven and Cael was fifteen. It happened when our mom was working a late shift. All night, I complained that I didn’t feel well and that my tummy hurt. Cael thought it was just a stomachache, but then I started vomiting and running a fever. We didn’t want to call Mom because she was always complaining that her boss was looking for an excuse to fire her.”

  Sean’s jaw tightens at hearing this.

  “Cael panicked and ran to get help from our neighbor, old Mrs. Bukowski. She called 911 and I was rushed to the hospital. It was one of the scariest moments of my life.” I blink back the tears as I recall my brother’s terrified face when the paramedics placed me onto the gurney. Even though he was already physically bigger than most grown men at that age, Cael was a kid underneath it all.

  “When I got to the hospital, they rushed me into the emergency room. I was screaming for my mommy hysterically, refusing to let the hospital staff touch me. They wouldn’t let Cael into the OR. Finally, a doctor came into the room and talked to me soothingly, reassuring me that everything was going to be okay. She was a pediatrician who happened to be on rotation.”

  Taking a deep breath, I continue, “I don’t know if it was because she looked a little like my mom or if it was the kindness in her eyes, but I calmed down. When I woke up from the surgery, my mom and Cael were there. Mom was crying and Cael looked bone-white, but I was going to be okay. The pediatrician dropped by to check on me even though she was off duty. I didn’t decide to become a doctor at that moment, but the memory has always stayed with me.”

  I still remember the doctor’s name: Dr. Elisabeth Morrow. When I decided to become a doctor, I had tried to contact her, but she was no longer at the same hospital. Wherever she was, I hoped she knew the positive impact her kindness had on her patients.

  He nods slowly. “That must have been a terrifying experience. I understand why you would want to help other kids.”