Hearts Awakened (17 page)

Laying the folder aside, Mark glanced at Tick’s office door, slightly ajar. It was a little after ten in the morning, so Tick had been in surgery a couple of hours. According to Tori, the doctors had told them to expect at least six hours on the operating table—the area around the kidney was rich in blood vessels, and as the kidney was removed, each vein would be cauterized. The threat of bleeding and complications was high.

Mark wanted to be there, as much for Tick as for Tori. He didn’t belong, though. He wasn’t family and right now he was probably off Tick’s list of friends. Instead, he’d settle for going by at lunch to check on Tori. Until then, he had plenty of paperwork to keep his mind off the jangle of his nerves.

The new-mail chime dinged on his laptop and he straightened, anxious excitement pulsing through him. An email from Glenn Rigsby. Mark ran the mouse over the link, clicking to open the message. A reply to his request for Jenny’s case file. He skimmed. He wouldn’t have to wait days for the file to arrive. Glenn had an officer driving to Alabama to visit family; a copy of the dossier would be in Mark’s hands by that afternoon. The thought was intimidating. What could he find that Glenn hadn’t?

“Hey.” Chris dropped into the chair at the empty desk butted to Mark’s. Clad in jeans, his polo shirt untucked, he looked casual and rested, especially considering his shift had ended at three in the morning. He rubbed a hand over his shadowed jaw. Definitely Chris Parker on his day off.

“Morning.” Mark pushed a couple of files across the desk in the younger man’s direction.

Chris picked up a folder and flipped it open. “Heard anything about Tick yet?”

“Stanton came back from the hospital a little while ago. Last report was everything was going well.” Now if their luck just held.

Nodding, Chris didn’t look up from the folder. “Thought you might be over there.”

Mark darted a look at him. “I’m going by later.” Another nod. Mark cleared his throat. “Listen, how’d you like to sink your teeth into a cold case?”

Intrigue glinted in Chris’s blue eyes. “We have anything like that?”

“Not one of ours, although we’ve got a couple we’re going to delve into.” Mark ran his thumbnail along the edge of his desk calendar. “This one’s from Florida.” He glanced up, meeting Chris’s gaze. “This one’s personal.”

A slow grin spread across Chris’s face. “I’m in.”

Tori perched on the windowsill and stared out at the parking lot below. Her stomach grumbled, a reminder that not only had she skipped breakfast, but she’d barely touched dinner the night before. An hour ago, when her third brother Chuck arrived at the hospital, Del had gone down to the cafeteria. He’d tried to talk her into going too, but she’d known eating was impossible.

Guilt sat in her stomach, a hard, leaden knot. Even with her hunger, it left no room for food.

I just want what’s best for you, Tor.

Of course he did. So what did she go and do? Throw his intentions back in his face. She cringed, remembering again how she’d cut him off.

She touched a finger to the window, chilled by the cool breeze outside. Tick was so convinced Mark wasn’t the guy for her. She wanted to laugh off his concerns, his warnings, to blindly forge ahead and do what she wanted.

What was she thinking? She couldn’t do it. Tick knew so much more about Mark than she did and his warnings were surely based in her best interests.

“It’s not like you’re an excellent judge of male character,” she muttered, resting her forehead against the window. “So he makes you feel good. Big deal. It’s just physical.”

Only it wasn’t, not really. Yes, she’d felt more in his arms than with any of the other men she’d dated, before or after the rape. But it was more than that—he made her feel capable, beautiful, sure of herself. Being with him felt so right, like she was on the brink of some wonderful future.

She’d been wrong before.

The thought sent a chill shivering over her skin. Her mind insisted on circling back to his relationship with Tick. They’d known each other forever, and doubtless, a bond existed there. Her involvement with Mark was already straining that friendship.

The guy has commitment issues.

She knew that. The question was whether or not his issues, combined with her own, were too much.

Maybe Tick was just looking ahead, seeing the pitfalls she didn’t in her inexperience. Lord, it was all so complicated. She had absolutely no idea what to do. Or maybe she did and just didn’t want to face it.

Not the kind who’s going to stick around once the initial challenge wears off.

A challenge. The thought turned her stomach. Surely that wasn’t all she was to him. There’d been something real in his kiss the night before. She’d felt the connection between them. But what did she know? Maybe the easy scores had gotten old. Maybe she meant absolutely nothing.

Two hours later the arguments continued swirling in her mind, but she was nearer to an answer. The surgical assistant keeping them updated had come out earlier to report that the surgeon was closing now. Tick had come through wonderfully and would be on his way to recovery soon. The doctor would visit them then. A tiny thread of relief tried to worm its way through Tori’s chest, but she squashed it. Not until she heard it from Dr. Gurley himself.

At the window again, she eyed the vehicles coming and going below. A familiar unmarked unit turned into the lot and parked in a far row. Tori’s throat tightened when an equally familiar figure climbed from the driver’s seat. Head bent against the wind, Mark walked across the parking lot.

The lump in her throat grew. She knew what she had to do.

She had to trust the man she knew cared for her.

Eyes closed, Mark leaned against the elevator wall. A tension knot sat between his shoulders, probably courtesy of the fat file folder sitting on the passenger seat of his unit. He hadn’t drummed up the courage to open it yet. First, he needed to check on Tick, make sure Tori was all right.

He relaxed into the wall. Just thinking about her made the weight of stress a little lighter. With a soft ping, the elevator doors slid open. Straightening, Mark pushed away from the wall and stepped into the hallway leading to the surgical-unit waiting room. The first sight that greeted him was Tori walking toward him and his smile widened. How could she feel like home so soon?

“Hey.” Man, he was glad to see her and he couldn’t stop grinning like a jackass. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, gather her up in a tight hug, sweep her off her feet. He was such a goner. “How’s Tick? I tried to get by earlier, but Chris and I caught a call out at Mrs. Coker’s. It took forever. You know how she—”

“He’s good.” She wrapped her arms across her midriff, hands supporting her elbows. “Dr. Gurley was just out. He said the surgery went really well, no sign the cancer had spread. Tick’s in recovery now. Mama’s with him.”

“That’s great.” Relief swept through him. Maybe God sometimes still did hear the prayers of a guy like him. “How about you? Hungry? You look a little tired.”

Smooth. Very smooth. He shook his head. Unable to resist touching her, he reached out and stroked a hand down her arm. She took a half step back, looking everywhere but at him. His gut tightened.

“Mark, we need to talk.”

Not good. That particular phrase was never a good thing coming from a woman. He swallowed. “Sure. You want to go—”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking today. About us.” Her fingernails dug so hard into her arms that the skin around them whitened.

Another phrase of death. Man, the karma was coming back to get him today. He tucked his thumbs in his belt. “Yeah?”

“Everything is moving so fast and there’s all this stuff going on with Tick right now. I can’t be sure I’m making the right decisions.” She looked distressed, brows drawn downward, a sheen of sudden tears glittering in her eyes. God help him, he still wanted to comfort her. “I-I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I don’t know what else to say except that it’s—”

“I get it.” The words came out colder than he’d intended and she bit her lip. But, damn it, he really didn’t want to hear her say,
It’s not you, it’s me
. That left only one more phrase to endure.

“Mark, I’m sorry.” The tears trembled on her dark lashes. “We can still be friends, right?”

He swallowed the first retort that came to mind. Her friend? Yeah, he could be her friend. Just like he could forget Jenny had existed. But right now, he’d do whatever it took to get that awful wounded expression and tremulous fear off her face. Even lie and pretend this didn’t hurt like hell.

“Yeah, we can be friends.” He waited for lightning to strike him. Really no reason to draw this out. No reason for him to hang around. Tick was all right and she’d made the choice Mark had known all along she would. Not her fault he’d let himself hope. He cleared his throat and dragged a hand down the back of his neck. The knot there throbbed. “Listen, I’m glad to hear Tick’s good. Tell him I asked, would you? I’ve got to go. I’m supposed to meet Chris—”

“Mark—”

“Tori, let it be, okay? It’s fine.” With a tight smile, he turned back to the elevators. Blessedly, one awaited, the doors sliding open immediately. He didn’t look at her as he punched the button for the lobby. If he looked at her, he’d start asking for explanations and he wasn’t sure he really wanted them. The doors whispered closed.

Mark leaned his head against the wall and stared up at the mirrored ceiling. Haunted eyes looked back at him and his heart thumped in his chest like a scared rabbit. Damn it, he’d
known
better. Why hadn’t he listened to his gut instinct? He rubbed a hand down his face.

“Shit.”

The elevator shimmied to a stop on the fourth floor and opened to allow a middle-aged couple to board. He nodded at them, but before the doors swept shut, he reached out to catch one side and stepped free of the car. He’d faced the reality of Jenny’s file, he’d faced Tori’s rejection…hell, he might as well face this too.

His chest and belly tied in perfect Boy Scout knots, he strode to the nurse’s station opposite the glass-enclosed nursery. He tapped his fingers on the laminate counter in a jittery tattoo. “I’m looking for Caitlin Falconetti’s room.”

The redhead flicked a glance at the six-pointed star embroidered on his polo shirt. “422.”

“Thanks.” He rapped his knuckles on the surface and turned away.

“But she’s not there.” The nurse’s voice brought him up short. “Try the NICU, end of the hall on your left.”

He nodded, heart insisting on maintaining its erratic Mexican-jumping-bean rhythm. Finding the NICU proved to be no problem. Making himself buzz for the nurse? Something else entirely. He stared at the bell. What the hell was he thinking, anyway?

Sure enough, beyond the glass, he spotted Caitlin standing beside one of the clear plastic isolettes. She looked around, catching his eye, and warm affection lit her face. She spoke to the nurse at her side, and moments later, unable to get a protest beyond his lips, he found himself scrubbed, garbed in a sterile gown and being led across the minefield of too-small babies to Caitlin’s side.

“Cookie.” She caught his hand, genuine pleasure softening her voice. “I’m so glad you came.”

Oddly enough, so was he, now that he stood close enough to see the strain and still-wet tears marring her features. “Me too, Falconetti. How are you?”

“Better.” With a small ironic laugh, she used one knuckle to wipe the dampness from under her eyes. “You’ve been upstairs, right? You know they got it all and don’t think it’s spread?”

“I heard.”

“He’s going to be all right.” She needn’t have bothered clearing the tears as new ones spilled over to replace them. “He is.”

He wrapped his fingers around her hand, still clinging to his, and drew her into a tight hug. “Of course he is. Hell, Falconetti, cut it out. You know I don’t do crying women.”

“I know.” She rested her forehead against his shoulder, breathless, hitching sobs shaking her shoulders.

Remembrance flashed in his mind, of holding Tori close in the small intimacy of her car while she wept. He closed his eyes, pain pulsing over him. Had that been only yesterday? Another memory, waking with her in his arms, her quiet voice saturated with curiosity and longing as he talked about his dream, and the hurt did more than pulse, instead digging in with spiked claws of loss.

He patted Caitlin’s back in awkward comfort. She calmed under the easy touch, blowing out a long shuddery breath. “I’m angry with you.”

She mumbled the even statement against the middle of his chest. He smiled. “Yeah? Why?”

“Because there’s no doubt in my mind that he told you before he told me.”

No way he was touching that one. After another long moment, she stepped back, sniffling. She grabbed a couple of tissues from a box on a low table next to a rocking chair.

“I’m sorry.” She sent him a rueful glance from beneath damp, spiky lashes. “I’ve been this way all day. I can’t seem to stop.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Gee, I wonder why?”

She rolled her eyes and blew her nose. He took the opportunity to look beyond her at the skinny newborn with wisps of dark hair kicking out around his head. “So this is the rugrat, huh?”