You're the One That I Want (9 page)

He had to figure out a way to make her come with him.

He turned back to Casper, hanging on to the moment. “I’m sorry I didn’t call Mom.”

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve said.”

“For the record, I didn’t plan on nearly dying.”

“I did mention he dove into the water to save my life.” Scotty looked at Casper. “Crazy. Idiot. Jerk.” She was smiling, though.

Owen laughed, then moaned.

“Stop it,” she said; then she laughed too. And Owen was right back in the raft, teasing her, watching her eyes shine. Wow, she could take his breath away.

Casper wasn’t as easily charmed. “Who are you, exactly? Are you really his fiancée?”

Owen froze at the word. Then a beat, a pulse, and the rest of his memory rounded out.

He’d . . .
proposed
. On a whisper of breath, his last breath. He remembered the sunrise, the feel of her curled beside him, the sense of life peeling back, leaving behind only his regrets, his what-ifs, and in that moment, he’d let the voice inside run away with him.

In fact, since we just spent the night together, I think you should probably do right by me . . . and marry me.

A joke, perhaps, yet by the looks of things . . .

He glanced at Casper, sorting through a response.
She’s my fiancée.
Ha, right, because she hadn’t, wouldn’t . . . not for a second . . . really have taken him seriously.

Right?

Who’d agree to marry him? A vagabond with one good eye, a deckhand with a motorcycle and a backpack to his name. What kind of life could he give her?

Except Scotty didn’t seem the type to need a man to give her a life. They could give each other one, couldn’t they? Start out simple here in Alaska. Build what they wanted together. He’d buy a fishing boat
 
—or work for her father, maybe
 
—and they’d get their own place. And he would marry her because he suddenly hungered for the life that had formed in his mind in the first light of morning.

His reason for living was right here.

Holding his hand.

Gray-green eyes in his. Long, silky black hair tumbling down over her green scrub top. Her face washed clean, the slightest smile catching her lips.

So he said it. Let the words just tumble out like a wave crashing over them. Testing them. “She’s . . . Yes, Scotty is my fiancée.”

He expected something like he’d given Casper about Raina
 
—a warm congratulations. A laugh, maybe. A “Way to go, Bro.” But his eyes were on Scotty, gauging her reaction, so he didn’t exactly notice Casper’s quietness
 
—or didn’t care because yeah, he was shocked too.

Not Scotty. She smiled slowly, then looked away, shaking her head.

“Right?” Owen said. “You said yes, didn’t you?”

She giggled.

He’d never heard that from her. A giggle. And if it was possible, she even blushed.

“I dunno . . . I guess, yeah,” she said.

In Owen’s book, that sounded like a goal that should have been accompanied by sirens and a thunderous crowd cheering his name.

Scotty McFlynn, marrying him.

“Don’t make me think about this too hard,” she said. “Because Carpie thinks I’m crazy, but . . . yeah. Maybe. What if, right? Maybe that’s why we lived.” She giggled again, and he just about found the strength to kick his brother out of the room, pull her alongside him.

He was suddenly feeling much, much better.

“Right,” he said. “We’re getting married
 
—”

“Oh, that’s a fantastic idea,” Casper said, his voice low.

Huh?

“Why not? Out of all your available choices, we just have to find the most irresponsible, and that’s what you’ll do.”

His words sliced through the ethereal, ebullient happiness sifting down from never-never land.

“You’re absolutely determined to destroy lives.”

“Sheesh, Bro
 
—”

“If you care at all about this girl, you won’t marry her,” Casper said, and this time his words felt like a punch.

Owen schooled his voice. “For the love of pete, Casper, what’s your problem?”

“My problem is that you don’t think.” Casper pointed to his head. “Everything is fun and games with you.”

“I’m not kidding here
 
—” Owen reached for the railing, held on.

“Sit tight there, bruiser,” Scotty said, her hand on his chest.

“No, I don’t think you are,” Casper said, not rattled in the least by Scotty rising to her feet. “You’re dead serious. And that’s the problem. You don’t think beyond what feels good right now. What’s going to make Owen happy. How much does she really know about you, Owen?”

The darkness of Casper’s words cut off his breathing.

“You’re upsetting him!” Scotty said, and Owen grabbed her hand even as she started to round the bed as if intending to push Casper from the room.

“Well, good. Maybe he needs to start thinking past his own enjoyment to the destruction his choices leave behind.”

“I fail to see how marrying me
 
—”

“Look, Scotty, I’m sure you’re fantastic. And maybe marrying you is the best thing that could ever happen to Owen. But this really has nothing to do with you. You are just one more person
Owen can make fall in love with him before he runs away and leaves you brokenhearted.”

“What did I ever do to you?” Owen said, now pulling himself up.

“Lie down!” Scotty barked.

“Really?”
Casper said.

Owen heard the heart monitor begin to beep. “I know I made a few mistakes
 
—”

“And now I have to hurt you.” Casper turned away from him, blew out a breath.

Owen surrendered to Scotty’s push on his shoulders, sinking back into the bed, nonplussed.

His brother braced his hands on the windowsill. “Owen, I actually don’t care if you marry Scotty. In fact, yay, you. But you’re coming home first.”

Owen frowned, trying to get a grip on the ferocity of Casper’s response. “No problem? I was . . . We were going to do that anyway, weren’t we, hon?”

He kept his voice light, fighting the urge to let it end with a sharp edge.

Next to him, Scotty still stood, holding his hand. She managed a slow nod.

Then Casper rounded on them. He pushed his hand through his hair. “Yeah. Uh, I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. . . .”

“Why not? Scotty needs to meet our family.”

Casper’s mouth tightened. “Fine. I was just thinking that you might want to sort a few things out before you decide to let her meet the fam.”

“Like what?”

“Like
 
—nothing.” Casper ran his hand down his face. “I’ve
completely mucked this up. I’m sorry.” He moved toward the door. “I’ll come back later, when
 
—”

“Like what, Casper? Just tell me! Like apologizing to Mom and Dad? Done. Making peace with Max? Fine. Done. What other penance do I need to do to be forgiven by the beloved and perfect Casper Christiansen?”

Casper stopped at the door. Then he turned, his eyes reddened. “How about figuring out how to be a father? Huh? How about that?”

Time stopped. Along with Owen’s heartbeat. His breath.

And then Scotty’s hand slid out of his.

Owen wanted to reach for it, pull it back, but she clasped her arms around her middle, a frown dissecting her forehead, eyes just a little wounded.

“Scotty . . .” He turned to Casper. “What are you talking about?”

Casper had that dark expression
 
—the one he’d worn at Eden’s wedding
 
—and for a wild second Owen wanted to push the call button, maybe get some security in here.

Then Casper breathed out as if he had everything under control. He walked over to the bed. Swallowed. “I wanted to say it in a way that . . . was better. Like I didn’t want to rip out your throat every time I thought about it. Apparently that’s not going to happen. There’s no good way to say it. The fact that you got a girl pregnant and then deserted her? Yeah, I didn’t know how to sugarcoat that.”

“What. Are. You. Talking. About?” Owen said as the word started to settle in.
Fathe
r
?

“You have a daughter, Owen. A beautiful, black-haired, blue-eyed daughter.”

Silence.

“Who
 
—?”

“Sheesh, Owen. I realize it’s probably hard for you to sift back through the list of hundreds of girls you’ve bedded but try real hard to remember the one
 
—”

“Hey!” Owen started, but then he stopped, thought for one second. He had been selfish. Reckless. Stupid. Arrogant. He swallowed hard. “I admit I made mistakes, but I haven’t been that guy for a long time.”

“You only have to be that guy once.”

He drew in a breath. “Do we have to do this in front of Scotty?”

“Don’t mind me,” she said in a voice he didn’t recognize.

And he was once again in the raft, losing his grip on the sunshine.

“Scotty
 
—wait.” He turned to Casper. “I’m not trying to be obtuse here, but
what gir
l
?”

Casper closed his eyes.

Then it all made sense. Why Casper had decked him at the wedding. How his brother had turned into a person he didn’t recognize. Furious. Owen would feel the same way if Casper or Darek had been with Scotty and left her pregnant.

“Oh . . . It’s Raina. Raina had my baby,” Owen said quietly, not looking at Scotty. The words sank through him like inky darkness.

Casper’s jaw tightened. “Yep. In January. Her name is Layla.”

That’s when Owen heard the footsteps.

He looked over just in time to see the door closing behind Scotty.

“Scotty, come back!”

Owen’s voice trailed her into the hallway, squeezing through the door before it shut behind her. Scotty stopped just outside, her heart banging in her chest.

For a long time she stood, listening to the sounds from the nurses’ station down the hall, smelling the clean antiseptic scent of the hospital, and tasting her own stupidity.

Owen had a child.

A child.

And he didn’t even know it.

That fact made her run her hands over her face, lean against the wall, relishing the coolness after the sudden heat in the room.

She groaned. A child. With Casper’s girlfriend.

Which, of course, accounted for Casper’s furious behavior toward his almost-dead brother.

More, it seemed that Casper had come to tell Owen to man up, take care of his responsibilities. Which meant what? That Owen wasn’t free to marry Scotty because he had to marry Raina?

But if she read the conversation correctly, Casper was with Raina.

Talk about family drama. It certainly added fuel to the fire between the Christiansen brothers.

It didn’t matter anyway. The whole fantasy of meeting Owen’s family had begun to disintegrate as she listened to them argue. Casper was probably right. Owen had acted on impulse when he proposed. She got that. Because she’d just as impulsively said yes. Which, of course, was Owen’s superpower
 
—making her break her own rules.

They should both be thanking Casper for his razor-edged candor.

Scotty stalked down the corridor. Stupid, idiotic, foolish girl, falling for a drifter. She knew better. She knew
better
.

In her gut, she’d known that the man had secrets, and she should have listened to her hunches.

She was just about to break into a jog when she heard her name again. “Scotty!”

The voice was lower but still familiar, and it made her turn. Casper strode down the hallway after her. “Scotty, stop!”

Curiosity glued her in place as Casper caught up.

He blew out a breath, ran his hands through his curly black hair. He had the rugged Christiansen appeal, she’d give him that. He wore the lumberjack look well, and yes, he possessed the same work-wrought muscles, that sense of strength that made Owen immovable in a storm. But Owen was hard-edged and heartbreaking, and a girl lost her mind a little when he held her with that intense gaze.

She needed to get out of this hospital and back to her life, fast.

“Listen. I didn’t mean for all that baggage to come out quite like that. I just want to . . . apologize. I’ve been stressed out and angry and searching for him for four months. And he didn’t exactly leave a trail behind, so no one knew where he was. Mom was frantic, and I guess I’m still too angry at him.”

“For having a baby he didn’t even know about?”

“Yeah . . . okay. Well said. But you know a different Owen than I do. The Owen I knew was angry and selfish and deserved a little ‘come to Jesus.’”

“What he deserved was a brother glad to see him.”

“I
am
glad to see him
 
—more than you can know. I was nearly sick with relief when I got here and found out you’d been rescued.”

“I could tell by the crying. Someone get me a hankie.”

Casper’s mouth tightened around the edges. “I guess I deserved that.”

“I get being so upset you can’t think straight. My old man is sitting outside in his pickup
 
—has been for the past two hours
 
—because he can’t face the fact that he nearly lost me. So he’s finishing off his second pack of Winstons, trying to figure out how to
tell me he loves me, which he’ll never be able to do. I get relationships tangled up in love and anger until something spills out that you regret. But the guy you just yelled at isn’t the guy who got your girl pregnant.”