Except he hadn’t really come up with a Plan B. He supposed he could try calling Dakota’s cell again. He could knock on a few doors and see if anyone knew where to find Sarah. Or he could stretch out in the car and wait. They had to come back sometime, he reasoned. They were probably out shoe shopping or buying chocolate or whatever women did when they got dumped.
He retraced his steps. Fine, he’d wait. Even if they were going out later, they’d be back. They’d have to shower and primp. Women were predictable that way.
“Are you looking for Sarah?”
Sean froze. Shit. He took his time turning around. “Actually, yes.” He flashed a wide smile at the elderly woman who’d pulled open the door of number twenty-two. “Sarah Wiggins. Do you know if I’m in the right place?”
For a long moment, the woman studied him with beady blue eyes. “Are you a friend of hers?”
He forced his smile to stay put. “Sorry, ma’am. My name’s Charlie.” He extended a hand. “I’m an old friend of hers, yes, from up north.” He hoped Sarah had lived in New Hampshire at some point. He couldn’t remember what Dakota had told him.
The woman nodded, and her features relaxed. “Well, isn’t she the lucky one today. Two visitors from out of town!” With wrinkled fingers she pinched a few dead blossoms from the flower box outside her window. “Sarah is just a darling.”
Sean bobbed his head. “She sure is.” He lowered his voice and winked. “Actually, it’s a surprise, my coming here. It was...sort of last minute.” That, at least, wasn’t a lie.
The woman clapped her hands together. “Well, how lovely!” Her brow furrowed. “I know she and her friend left a couple of hours ago.” She shook her head. “But I don’t know when they’ll be back.”
Sean waved a hand. “That’s okay,” he said. “I’ll wait. Or give her a call later on. Or...” His mind spun, trying to work out a next step.
“You know, sometimes that nice doctor who lives downstairs plays basketball on Saturdays.” The woman beamed as if she’d remembered a secret and wanted to share it with him. “And sometimes Sarah goes with him. Maybe that’s where they are.”
A nice doctor? Sean kept his features neutral, though news of another guy in the picture didn‘t exactly please him. “Do you...ah...know where this guy plays ball?”
She scratched her chin as a yellow cat appeared between her ankles. “If I had to guess, I’d say the park downtown.” She turned and pointed a wobbly finger across the grass. “It’s only about ten minutes away. I can give you directions.”
Sean smiled, a real one this time. He took a minute to bend over and rub his knuckles against the cat’s head. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, ma’am, that would be wonderful.”
6:00 p.m.
Ethan looked around, surprised at the empty Emergency Room. Two teenage girls huddled in the corner with tissues clutched in their palms. A middle-aged man sat in a vinyl chair staring at the TV. Other than that, nothing. The bustle that usually marked the hospital was missing. Even the intercoms, normally spitting with orders and codes, remained silent. If not for the nurses’ stations visible behind the reception window and the ambulance bay outside, he and Mike might have been sitting in a quiet, pleasant office downtown.
But they weren’t.
The irony tasted bitter in Ethan’s throat. No matter what it looked like, this building remained the place where people who were hurt, sick or dying came for help. No shiny exterior, no bubbly receptionist at the welcome desk, could hide the ugly fact that time spent inside a hospital meant something was wrong, either with you or with someone you cared about.
He looked down. Mike’s ankle remained swollen and purple.
“Here you go, handsome.” The receptionist handed Mike a clipboard. With a sunny smile, her gaze passed over Ethan and returned to Mike. It rested there a fraction longer than it needed to, which wasn’t a surprise. Same story, everywhere they went. Tall, muscular, with a square jaw and piercing blue eyes, Mike always left a swath of hopeful women behind him.
Ethan didn’t mind. He wasn’t that good with the opposite sex, anyway. Take that woman in the park. Perfect example. He hadn’t even gotten her name. He’d barely managed to string six or seven words together. And in bars? Forget it. As a sports writer, he couldn’t help but open every conversation with a comment about the Titans’ Super Bowl prospects or the recent Braves’ trade. Neither went over very well, except with Lydia. She’d laughed at him and told him exactly what she thought of the Titans’ chances that year. Zilch. And she was right. He’d fallen for her that very night.
Ethan rubbed his forehead while Mike tried to settle his lanky frame in the chair. “I hate this stuff,” he said, digging for his wallet. He pulled out an insurance card and copied down the numbers with an unsteady hand.
“How’s the ankle?” Ethan kept his eyes on the floor. He didn’t need to look around to see that the same pictures still hung on the walls, that the couch by the window was still missing an arm. He’d seen from the minute they walked in that nothing had changed. Except me, he thought. I’m still here. And Lydia’s not.
“Hurts like hell.” Mike signed his name with a scribble as a matronly woman pushed her way through the doors.
“Michael Sullivan,” she announced.
He pushed himself out of the chair and passed the clipboard to Ethan. “Can you take it up for me?”
“Well, hello there,” purred the nurse as she took Mike’s arm and eased him into the triage area. She smoothed the graying hair at her temples and beamed.
Ethan returned to the reception window and waited a moment to see if the receptionist would let her eyes sparkle up at him the way they had at Mike. She took the clipboard without looking up. “Thanks.”
The back of Ethan’s neck grew hot, and he turned away. He reached for a chair without seeing it and stumbled into the wooden leg, smacking his shin. I lost everything. Not just Lydia. Not just the person I thought I’d grow old with. I lost the something that made me alive to other people.
And he wondered if he really had become invisible, the way he’d wanted to all those months ago.
“YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED and talked to him,” Sarah said back at the apartment complex.
“The guy in the park? I’m only in town for the weekend.”
“So what? You can’t flirt for five minutes? Or find out where he’s gonna be later on so we can meet up with him?”
But Dakota shook her head. That sounded like an awful lot of effort.
They crossed the parking lot and reached Gunnar’s apartment. “I’ll meet up with you two in a couple hours, okay?” He wiped his forehead with a towel as he unlocked the door.
Sarah nodded. “Sure. Come on up whenever you’re ready. The blender’s waiting to make margaritas.”
Dakota stepped over a fat yellow cat sunning itself near the top of the stairs. “He was cute,” she admitted.
“Yeah, no kidding.” Sarah opened her door. “So you’re in town for two days. So what? You can still have fun. Flirt. Let some guy buy you a drink tonight. Dance. Talk about the sports or music or whether he likes it better on top.”
“Sarah!”
“I’m just saying. Don’t forget there are other guys in the world beside the idiot who broke your heart.”
“I know. You’re right.” Dakota stood in front of the window AC unit and let the cool air lift the hair from her neck. Again she pictured the guy at the park, his kind smile and solid shoulders. He was nice, she admitted. Polite. Athletic. Not bad looking, at all.
But he wasn’t Sean, she thought before she could stop herself. He wasn’t tall or blue- eyed or confident in that swaggering way that somehow always made Dakota weak-kneed.
“Stop thinking about him,” Sarah ordered. From the kitchen came the whirl of the blender, and minutes later, she handed Dakota a frosty glass, filled to the top. “Drink. And remember what a jackass he was in the first place.”
Dakota slipped off her flip-flops and settled her
self into the loveseat, feet propped on the ottoman. With one hand, she fished out her phone to check for messages. Zero. Sean hadn’t called or texted her. A sting of disappointment worked its way along her spine until she told it to stop. She didn’t need him. She didn’t need the grief or the heartache. She didn’t need anything at all except some good company and time away from Little Lakeside.
Taking a long sip of her margarita, she leaned back and reminded herself that was why she was sitting here in the first place. She welcomed the tart lime and tequila zing of her drink and let her mind go back to the guy at the park. She wondered what his hands felt like wrapped around the ball. She adjusted the fantasy slightly. Wrapped around her. Sliding down her back and finding the soft spot at the base that always tickled upon touch.
Someone knocked at the door.
“Gunnar’s here already? That was fast.” Sarah crossed the living room and twisted the deadbolt. “Oh, sorry.” Her friend’s voice changed slightly. “Think you have the wrong place. I —”
“Sarah Wiggins?”
Dakota dropped her drink at the sound of his voice. The glass hit her leg and then spilled to the floor, leaving a puddle of limey slush on the carpet.
Sean.
Here in Memphis
What the hell?
“Can I help you?” Sarah remained in the doorway, back tensed.
“I’m Sean Murphy. Dakota’s uh...friend.”
Sarah flashed a quick glance over her shoulder at Dakota. “The cop? The asshole who’s going back to his wife?”
Dakota couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe. What’s he doing here?
“I don’t think I can help you.” Sarah didn’t pull open the door, didn’t invite him in.
“Please.” Sean took one step inside the apartment and forced Sarah back. “Babe, I need to talk to you.”
“Hey, what the hell?” Sarah grabbed his elbow.
He shook her off and took another step toward Dakota. “I got on the first flight I could. Please. You gotta give me a second chance.”
Dakota wavered. She wanted Sarah to order him out and then slam the door in his face. Or on his balls, more accurately. But he followed me to Memphis. The enormity of the act stunned her. Maybe he really was sorry. Maybe he’d taken the morning to realize he wanted her, not Mollie, not his marriage, not his old life. Maybe they could work things out after all.
It’s okay, she mouthed to Sarah. She’d hear him out. It was the least she could do. Honestly, she wanted to hurt him. She wanted to dismiss him. But all she could find in her heart was a pathetic little mewing thing that wanted to be picked up and cradled against his chest.
Sean crossed the room. He stood for a moment and looked down at her, as if to gauge her reaction before he got any closer. Then he sank to a seat beside her. His cologne, that familiar scent that drove her half-crazy, stung her nostrils and weakened her even more. Before she could do anything, he reached for her hand. “Forgive me. Please.”
Oh, she wanted to. She really, really did.
“I made a mistake,” he went on. “Huge. I didn’t want to leave things that way. Really.”
Hope floated inside her. He’d come all this way to apologize. To ask her to come back. A smile quivered at the corners of her mouth. “So you flew all the way to Tennessee to tell her that?”
From across the room, Sarah’s voice interrupted them. “Couldn’t do it on the phone? Couldn’t wait for her to come back in two days?”
Sean brushed Dakota’s bottom lip with his thumb. “I didn’t know when you were coming back. Or if you were.”
Sarah whispered something that sounded like “Bullshit.”
But Dakota didn’t stop looking at Sean. Sarah didn’t understand the way it was between them. She couldn’t possibly know the thunderbolt that struck her every time he walked into a room. She leaned into his caress. “I miss you,” she said. “Already.”
Sarah stomped past them, into her bedroom, and slammed the door behind her.
Dakota didn’t care.
For a long moment Sean said nothing. Then he cleared his throat. “Listen, when I left this morning...” He stopped.
She pulled away from him. “What?”
“Babe, I’ll do anything you want. Really.” He paused again. “But there‘s something I need from you.”
Anything. She’d give him anything he asked. But she needed something from him, too. “Did you file the divorce papers?”
She felt him stiffen. “Well, it’s not like it can happen just like that. All of the technical stuff—”
“Takes time. Yeah.” She inched away from him. “I know. You’ve told me ten times. So why are you here, really?”
His nostrils flared slightly. “I need that flash drive.”
Dakota’s jaw dropped. “You—came—all—the—way—to—Memphis—” She couldn’t finish. She could barely give the thought space inside her head. For a goddamned piece of plastic?
“Babe—”
“Get out.” She launched herself up and stumbled across the room. Shaking, she wound both arms around her waist. “I mean it. How dare you—”
Sarah’s door opened again.
“Dakota, please. I do want to be with you. I do.”
“But you came here for a computer file. Not for me. Not to tell me how much you missed me and wanted me back. You tracked me all the way here for a damn computer file.”
“Not just for that. I wanted to see you, too. Really.”
Dakota held up a hand. “Enough.” She couldn’t take any more lies. She couldn’t stand to be made a fool of for one more moment. Tears choked her words. “Get out.”
His eyes narrowed. “You might want to reconsider—”
“If you’re not out of my apartment in ten seconds,” Sarah interrupted, “I’m calling the police.” She walked into the living room and planted herself between them.
Sean rose to a stand. “Sweetheart, I am the police. Ain’t gonna do you a lot of good to pick up that phone.”
For the first time in the year that she’d known him, a chill slipped up Dakota’s back. She’d never heard him speak like that. Never cold and threatening, not to her or anyone else. The emotion, the want that had ballooned inside her minutes before, vanished.
Stone-faced, he straightened the bill of his baseball cap. “Just give me the flash drive and I’ll go.”
“I’m counting,” Sarah said. “Ten. Nine.”
He smirked and stood his ground.
“Eight.” Sarah held her cell phone up to her ear. “Seven.”
Sean’s gaze swept the room. “Where is it? In your purse? Your carry-on?” He reached for her backpack and swung it in a wide arc. Out flew her makeup bag, her brush, an extra pair of sunglasses. Disgusted, he pawed through it and then tossed it to the side where it caught the edge of a vase. The porcelain shattered as soon as it hit the ground.
“Stop it!”
Just give him the stupid thing, Dakota told herself. Then he’ll go, and you’ll never have to deal with him again. But she didn’t move. Somehow, scared as she was of Sean in that minute, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. She didn’t want him to win.
“I’m dialing,” Sarah warned.
“Go ahead, bitch.” His fist hit the wall.
In the next instant, the front door flew open all the way, and an enormous dark form crossed the room. “What the hell’s going on here?”
Gunnar’s voice, angry and rough and the most beautiful sound Dakota had ever heard, filled the apartment. He wrapped one hand around Sean’s arm and glared. “Who the hell are you?”
Sean blanched. His jaw tightened as he shook off Gunnar’s grip. “Get the fuck off me. I’m Dakota’s boyfriend.”
Gunnar didn‘t move. “Seeing as Dakota came to Memphis after her boyfriend dumped her, I’m having a hard time believing that. You want to try again?”
Sean slid a look Dakota’s way. Rage darkened his pupils. “Okay. Ex-boyfriend. Doesn’t matter. She’s got
something that belongs to me. I’m here to collect.” He inched away from Gunnar until his back was pressed up against the living room wall. “Call off your guard dog, sweetheart,” he said to Sarah.
Sarah didn’t say a word.
“Get the hell out of here,” Gunnar said. Bare-chested, his pectoral muscles tightened as he took another step toward Sean. Biceps flexed. Knuckles cracked. And both men waited, staring each other down.
After a long thirty seconds, Sean shoved Gunnar out of the way and headed for the door. “You’re gonna be fuckin’ sorry,” he hissed over his shoulder. His last look at Dakota, a stinging ray from a man she’d never known, seared her straight to the bone.
“Are you okay?” Sarah hugged Dakota’s shaking shoulders.
She didn’t know. She couldn’t speak.
Gunnar stood on the balcony eyeing the parking lot. “He’s gone. Driving some kind of white car.” He turned back to the women. “You should call the police.”
Dakota pressed her lips together and shook her head. What good would that do? Across the room, her margarita had melted into the carpet, leaving a stain on the blue pile. One minute a drink of perfect proportions, the next a misshapen wet spot on the floor. She stared at it and marveled that one thing could take the shape of something else, something unrecognizable, in a matter of seconds.
“Sean.” The word tumbled out of her. She couldn’t say anything else. She couldn’t think of anything else. How had she misjudged him so completely?
“Stop thinking about him,” Sarah said. “Right now.”
But how could she? He’d flown all the way to Memphis. He’d followed her over a thousand miles in search of a two-inch piece of plastic. He’d threatened her best friend. He’d changed into someone she didn’t know.
Gunnar closed the French doors and locked them. Standing in the middle of the room, he studied the women. “You want me to stay?”
Sarah shook her head. “We’re fine.”
We are? Dakota couldn’t feel her fingertips and realized it was because she’d wrapped them around the chair so tightly she’d cut off their circulation.
Countdown: Ethan Page 6
