Lucky in Love (18 page)

Her mom’s mouth tightened. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“No,” Mallory agreed quietly, her chest tight. “That isn’t what you mean, and I do know it. You’re talking about Karen.”

“No, we’re not.”

“Well, we should.”

Her mother closed her eyes and turned away. “I have to go.”

“She started dating a guy no one knew.”

“I don’t want to talk about this, Mallory!”

“He encouraged her to take a walk on the wild side, and—”

“
Don’t
,” Ella said stiffly. “Don’t you—”

“And she changed. She stopped being who you thought she should be. And—”

Her mother whirled back, eyes blazing, finger pointed shakily in Mallory’s face. “Don’t you
dare
say it.”

“Mom,” Mallory said through a tight throat, suddenly
very
tired. “It’s not the same this time. You know it’s not the same for me. Karen was doing drugs.”

“Your young man went to NA.”

Mallory shook her head in disbelief. “That’s
confidential
.”

“It’s Lucky Harbor,” Ella said with a shrug that said Ty’s privacy was nothing compared to her need to make sure her daughter was okay. “Remember that stormy night, when he ended up in the ER? He refused narcotics for pain.
Adamantly
.”

“So?”

“Don’t play dumb, Mallory. You know what I’m saying. He’s an outsider, and I realize that sounds rude, but you’ve got to admit people are getting the wrong idea about you two.”

Actually, given what she and Ty had been doing in the deep, dark of the night—and sometimes in the middle of the day—people had the exact
right
idea.

Ella took one look at Mallory’s face and got a pinched look of tension. “See? It’s happening. It’s happening again, just like Karen with Tony.”

“No,” Mallory said firmly. God, no. “Tony got Karen both hooked and then pregnant, and she spiraled downward. I can’t believe we’re comparing my life to Karen’s now, after all these years. Why not back then, when I
was
in danger of spiraling?”

Her mother looked as if Mallory had slapped her. “You…you weren’t. You were our rock.”

Mallory let out a breath and shook her head, feeling weary to the bone. And sad. Way too damn sad. “Forget it, Mom.”

“I can’t. Oh my God.” She covered her face. “I thought—you were so sweet during that time. I never thought—Oh, Mallory. I’m so sorry. Are you…spiraling again?”

Mallory drew a shaky breath and stepped forward, putting her hands on her mom’s arms. “No,” she said gently. “I’m not spiraling again. I’m not going to kill myself, Mom.” The big, fat elephant in the room. “I’m not Karen.”

Ella nodded, and with tears in her eyes, hugged Mallory in tight. “I know,” she whispered. Then, in the Quinn way of bucking up, she sniffed and pulled back to search her pockets, coming up with a tissue that she used to swipe her eyes. “You’re really okay?”

“Really,” Mallory promised.

“So can I have my sweet daughter back?”

A low laugh escaped Mallory. “I’m still sweet, Mom. I’m just not going to be amenable all the time, or compliant. And I’m not going to live my life exactly as you’d have me do.”

“Are you going to keep seeing that man?”

Lucille walked by in her candy-striper uniform. “Well, I hope so,” she said. “He’s the hottest thing you’ve dated since…well, ever.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Ella said. “This isn’t just a silly thing. It’s affecting her job.”

“Phooey,” Lucille said.

“Jane is concerned about it affecting the HSC as well.”

“Phooey,” Lucille said again. “And shame on you, Ella, for buying into that. It’s about time our girl here stops paying for others’ mistakes and regrets, don’t you think?”

Ella turned and looked at Mallory for a long beat, seeming stricken by the thought of anyone thinking she wasn’t fully supporting her own flesh and blood. “I never wanted you to pay for our mistakes and regrets.”

“Well, she has,” Lucille said, brutally honest as always, though her voice was very kind. She moved behind the nurses’ desk, poured Ella some coffee, pulled a flask from her pocket, and added a dash of something that smelled 100 proof.

“Lucille!” Ella gasped. “I’m on the job!”

“You’re clocking out, and it’s time.”

“Time for what?”

“Time for Mallory to not be the only one to stretch her wings. And speaking of wings,” Lucille said to Mallory, “you’re going to need wings for your next patient, and she’s ready for you.”

The new patient turned out to be Mrs. Burland.

“You,” Mrs. B said when Mallory entered her room.

“Me,” Mallory agreed and reached for the blood pressure cuff. “It says on your chart that you passed out after your bath again. Did you take your meds at the right time?”

“Well, of course I did. I’m not a complete idiot. They didn’t work.”

“Did you space the pills out with food, as explicitly instructed on the bottles?”

Mrs. Burland glared at her.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Mallory said. Mrs. B’s color was off, and her blood pressure was far too low. “When was your last meal?”

“Hmph.”

“Mrs. Burland.” Mallory put her fingers on the woman’s narrow, frail, paper-thin wrist to check her pulse. “Did you eat lunch today?”

Mrs. Burland straightened to her full four-foot-eight inches, quivering with indignity. “I know what I’m supposed to be doing.”

Mallory looked into her rheumy, pissy eyes and felt her heart clench.
Dammit
. She had a feeling she knew the problem—Mrs. B didn’t have any food. Probably she wasn’t feeling good enough to take care of herself, and since she’d long ago scared off family and friends with her mean, petty, vicious ways, she had no one to help her. Mallory picked up the room phone and called the cafeteria. “Stella, it’s Mallory. I need a full dinner tray for room three.”

“Sure thing, Sweet Cheeks. Is your hunk-o-burning love going to be making any more visits my way?”

Mallory rubbed her still-twitching eye. “Not today.”

When the tray came, Mallory stood over her grumpy patient. “Eat.”

Mrs. Burland tried to push the tray away but Mallory was one step ahead of her, holding it still. “Oh no, you don’t. You’re not going to have a little tantrum and spill it, not this time.”

Mrs. Burland’s eyes burned bright with temper, which Mallory was happy to see because it meant her patient was already feeling better. Mallory leaned close. “I’m stronger and meaner, and
I’ve
eaten today.”

“Well
that’s
obvious.” Mrs. Burland sniffed at the juice on the tray. “Hmph.”

“It’s apple.”

“I have eyes in my head, don’t I?” Mrs. Burland sipped the juice. In sixty seconds, her color was better. “You didn’t used to be so mean.”

“It’s a newly acquired skill,” Mallory said.

“I’m ready to go home now.”

“You can’t go home until I see you eat.”

“You’re making that up. This cafeteria food isn’t fit for a dog,” Mrs. Burland said.

Well, she had her there. Even Mallory, who’d eat just about anything, didn’t like the cafeteria food, not that she’d ever say so to the cook. “Fine.” Mallory went to the staff kitchen and pulled out her own lunch, which she brought back to Mrs. Burland’s room. “Try my sandwich. Turkey and cheese with spinach.” Which she’d only added because her mom kept asking if she was eating her vegetables. “There’s a little bit of mustard and probably too much mayo but your cholesterol is the least of your problems.” Mallory also tossed down a baggie of baby carrots and an apple.

Mrs. Burland took a bite of the sandwich first. “
Awful
,” she said, but took another bite. And then another, until there was nothing left but a few crumbs.

“The carrot sticks and the apple too,” Mallory said.

“Are they as horrid as the sandwich?”

“They’re as horrid as your bad attitude. And I’ll tell you this right now. You’re going to eat it all if I have to shove it down your throat myself.”

“
Mallory
,” a voice breathed in disbelief from the doorway.

Jane.
Perfect
. Mallory turned to face her boss, but not before she saw triumph and evil glee come into Mrs. Burland’s eyes.

“A moment,” Jane said, face tight.

“Certainly.” Mallory jabbed a finger at the carrots and apple. Mrs. Burland meekly picked up the apple.

In the hallway, Jane led Mallory just out of hearing range of Mrs. Burland. “New tactic?”

“Yes,” Mallory said, refusing to defend herself. “She finish it all?”

Jane took a look over Mallory’s shoulder at Mrs. B. “Every last bite. How did you do it?”

“By being a bigger bitch than she is.”

“Nicely done.”

By the time Mallory got in her car and left work, she was starving and exhausted. She solved the first problem by eating a handful of Jodi’s cookies. Then she pulled her phone out and took a quick peek to see if she had any texts before remembering she had Ty’s phone. She paused and eyed the remaining chocolate chip/walnut cookies. Fifteen minutes later, she pulled into Ty’s driveway.

The garage door was open, and the man himself was flat on his back beneath his car, one long denim-clad leg straight out, the other bent. His black T-shirt had risen up. Or maybe it was his Levi’s that had sunk almost indecently low on his hips. In either case, the revealed strip of his washboard abs had her mouth actually watering. She thought maybe she could stand here and just look at him all day long, but he seemed to enjoy looking at her right back and she’d had a hell of a long day and couldn’t possibly be worth looking at right now.

Not that it appeared to make any difference. Ty’s attraction to her was apparently based on some intangible thing she couldn’t fathom. She knew she could think about that for a million years and not get used to it, to the fact that no matter what she did or what she looked like, he seemed to want her.

The feeling was far too mutual.

Nothing chocolate, nothing gained.

T
y sat up on the mechanic’s creeper and took in the sight of Mallory standing there. She was packing a plate of cookies, which he hoped to God were for him. He assumed she’d discovered the phone fiasco by now, but other than that, he wasn’t sure what sort of mood to expect from her.

The last time he’d seen her, she’d been face down on his bed, boneless and sated right into a coma of bliss. He’d stroked a strand of damp hair from her face and she’d smiled in her sleep. His heart had constricted at the sight, his sole thought,
oh Christ, I am in trouble
. He’d been torn by the urge to tug her close, but then claustrophobia had reached up and grabbed him by the throat. Just as he’d chosen retreat, she’d awakened and gotten dressed to go.

That must have been when she’d grabbed the wrong phone, although he hadn’t realized it then. He’d followed her home to make sure she got there safely, then driven back to his place and expected to crash. Instead he’d missed her.

Clearly he was losing it.

He had no idea what she was thinking, but he hadn’t expected to see her smile at the sight of him, a smile that was filled with relief.

Relief, he realized, and surprise that he was still here in town.

Yeah, join my club
. He was surprised, too.

She was in pale purple scrubs and white Nikes. She had two pens sticking out of her hip pocket, one red, one black. There were correlating ink marks on her scrubs. She followed his gaze and rubbed at the stains. “I’m a mess. Don’t ask.”

“Not a mess,” he said. “Are those cookies?”

“Yes. And I had to fight the staff to keep them for you.”

“Girl-on-girl fight?” he asked hopefully. “Did you get it on video?”

“You are such a guy.” She came closer and crouched at his side, holding the plate out for him. He took a big bite of a cookie and moaned in deep appreciation.

“Did you give the HSC ten thousand dollars?”

Ah, there it was, he thought, swallowing. He’d been hoping she wouldn’t find out, but he supposed that was unrealistic in a town like Lucky Harbor. Taking his time, he ate cookie number two, then reached for a third.

She held the plate out of his reach. “Did you?” she asked.

He eyed her for a long moment. “Which answer will get me the rest of the cookies?”

“Oh, Ty,” she breathed, looking worried as she lowered the plate. Worried for him, he realized.

“Why?” she asked. “You already gave.”

“HSC needed it.”

“But it’s
so
much money.”

“If you’re asking if I can afford it, I can.”

She just stared at him, so he shrugged. “The job pays well.” He paused. “Really well.”

She let out a breath. She was already hunkered at his side so it took little effort to lean over toward him and press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered, and went to kiss the other cheek, but he turned his head and caught her mouth with his. They were both gratifyingly out of breath by the time he pulled back.

“You’re welcome,” he said, surprised when she rose and sat on the stool at his work bench.

“Don’t let me keep you from what you were doing,” she said. “I’ll watch.”

He arched a brow, feeling amused for the first time all day. “You want me to get back under the car?”

“I just don’t want you to lose any time because of me.”

“Is that right?”

“Absolutely.”

Humoring the both of them, he lay back down onto the mechanic’s creeper and lifted his hands above his head to the edge of the car.

She nibbled on her lower lip. Watching him work turned her on. The knowledge shouldn’t have surprised him—she turned him on just breathing, but he laughed softly.

She blushed. “How did you know?”

“Your nipples are hard.”

She made a sound in the back of her throat and covered her breasts, making him laugh.

“It’s your jeans,” she said. “They’re faded at your, um.” She waggled a finger in the direction of his crotch. “Stress spots. And your T-shirt, it’s tight on your biceps and shoulders. And when you’re flat on your back under the car, you look like you know what you’re doing.”

“That’s because I do.”

“It’s the whole package,” she agreed miserably.

He grinned. “If it helps, my
package
likes your package. A whole hell of a lot.”

“Work!” she demanded, closing her eyes.

Obliging, he rolled back beneath the car. He heard her get to her feet and walk close, peering into the opened hood above him. “So how much wrenching do you do at your work?”

She was as see-through as glass. He knew that she’d put him back beneath the car because she’d gotten him to talk beneath a car before. But she was so goddamned cute trying to outthink him that he gave her what she wanted.

Which in hindsight made her a hell of lot more dangerous than he’d thought. “I hotwired a tank once,” he said. “With my team. We stole it to disable rebel insurgents.”

She squatted at his side. “You’ve led a very different life than mine.” Her hand settled on his bad thigh. It’d been only recently that he’d even gotten feeling back in it, but he was having no trouble feeling anything now. It felt like her fingers had a direct line to his groin, and things stirred to life.

“Our phones got switched,” she said.

There was a new quality to her voice now, one that had him setting down his wrench and pulling himself back out from beneath the car.

She was still crouched low, and from his vantage point flat on his back, he looked up into her face. As usual, she could hide nothing from him, and for once, he wished he couldn’t see her every thought. They exchanged phones but her expression didn’t change. “Problem?” he asked.

“A woman called. Frances? She wants you to call her.”

“She always wants me to call her.”

Mallory nodded, looked down at the ground and then back into his eyes. “Are you dating her?”

“I’m not much of a dater.”

“You know what I mean.”

Yeah, he did. And he didn’t want to go there.

“I know,” she said quickly. “We agreed that this thing with you and me was…casual.”

He didn’t like where this was going.

“A fling,” she went on. “Right? Not a relationship.” She rose and turned away from him. “But I was thinking that maybe that last part isn’t true. I mean, we never actually said there
wasn’t
a relationship.”

“I’ll say it,” he said. “It’s not a relationship.”

She went still, turning back to stare at him with those eyes he’d never once been able to resist. “Why is that?” she asked. “Why can’t there be an us, if there’s a you and a someone else?”

He looked into her expressive face and felt a stab of pain right in the gut. He’d survived SEAL training. He’d lived through a plane crash. He’d kept on breathing when the rest of his team, his friends, his brothers, hadn’t been able to do the same. But he didn’t know how to do this. “There are some things I can’t tell you,” he said slowly. “Things that even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.”

“So the reason we can’t be a
we
is classified?” she asked in disbelief. “Really, Ty?”

Well, hell. Yeah, that had been pretty fucking lame. Chalk it up to the panic now residing in his hollow gut. Whatever he did here, whatever he came up with, he needed her to want to keep her distance. Except Mallory Quinn was incapable of distance when her heart was involved. That was both painfully attractive and terrifying. “Don’t fall for me, Mallory. That wouldn’t be good for either of us. We’re too different. You said so yourself.”

She sucked in a breath like he’d slapped her. “And what, you and Frances are alike? Compatible?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Hands on hips, she narrowed her eyes. “If you’re sleeping with her, then why wouldn’t she just roll over and talk to you? Why is she yelling about you not returning her phone calls?”

“Frances doesn’t yell.”

“
Strongly
suggested then,” she said with mock politeness. She paused. “You’re not sleeping with her.”

Gig up. “I’m not sleeping with her. And as for the why she’s pissed, there are a variety of reasons. I haven’t seen her in six months, for one.”

She stared at him, then turned away again.

Ty rose to his feet and walked around her to see her face. “Get the rest out,” he said. “Let’s finish this.”

A wry smile twisted her mouth. “You aren’t familiar with the Quinn pattern of holding onto a good mad, I see.”

“Holding onto your mad only tortures
you
,” he pointed out. “If you’re mad at me, let me have it.”

“Are you always so logical?” With a sigh, she shook her head. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.” She put a finger to her eye. “Damn twitch,” she muttered to herself, then looked at him, chin up. “I snooped in your phone.”

“I would expect nothing less from Walking-On-The-Wild-Side Mallory.”

“I thought about not telling you. But stealth isn’t one of my special talents.”

“You have other special talents,” he said, and made her laugh.

“Dammit,” she said. “I don’t want to laugh with you right now.”

Lifting a hand, he wrapped it around the nape of her neck and drew her in. “You need some more time to be mad at me?”

“Yes.”

“Let me know when you’re about done.” He knew he had no right to touch her, crave her like air, but he did both. And when he put his mouth on hers, he recognized the taste of her, like she’d been made for just him. Which made him far more screwed than he’d even imagined.

But suddenly she was pulling free, shaking her head. “Ty—I can’t.”

“You can’t kiss and be mad at me at the same time?”

“Oh, I can do that. What I can’t do is this. I can’t do this and keep it…not real.”

“It’s real.”

“Yes, but real for you means an erection. For me, it means…” She rubbed her chest as if it hurt and closed her eyes. “Never mind.” She took a step back and then another. “I’m sorry, this really is my fault. I shouldn’t have—”

“Mallory—”

“No, it’s okay. Really. But I’m going now.”

He watched her get into her car and drive off. Yeah, he thought, definitely time to go back to work. Past time.

Mallory parked behind her brother’s truck in her mother’s driveway.

Dinner with the Quinns.

It’d been a full day since she’d left Ty standing in his garage, hot and dirty and looking a little baffled, like maybe he’d lost his copy of the rule book for their little game.

But even though she’d started the game in the first place, she no longer wanted to play. Somewhere along the way, her heart had flipped on her. She could pretend to be a bad girl all she wanted. It was only an illusion. The truth was, she needed more than just sex. And that really pissed her off about herself.

And what pissed her off even more was how much she already missed him.

Her mother was in the kitchen pulling a roasted chicken out of the oven. It looked perfect. Mallory wouldn’t even know where to begin to make food that looked like that and she sniffed appreciatively.

“Did you bring the dessert?” her mother asked. “That cake you brought to Joe’s birthday party was amazing. I had no idea you were so talented. Tell me you made another of those.”

Mallory held out the tray of cupcakes she’d gotten from the B&B this morning. Tara had promised they were absolutely to die for. Mallory knew this to be true because she’d already inhaled two of them.

“A woman who can bake like this,” her mom said, “should have kids. I wouldn’t mind some grandchildren.”

“Mom.”

“Just sayin’.”

“Well, stop just sayin’.”

Joe walked in and rumpled Mallory’s hair. “Hey, think you can convince that cute new LN to go out with me?”

“No, Camilla’s too good for you. And how do you know her?”

“I work with her brother at the welding shop. She brought him lunch.”

“Stay away from Camilla,” Mallory said.

Ella was shooing everyone to the table. “Joe, put your phone away. Oh, Mal, I almost forgot. Tammy wanted me to ask if you’d take Alyssa’s shift this weekend so she and Tammy can have a girl’s night out.”

Mallory grabbed two rolls. “Can’t.”

Ella took one roll back. “You’ll hate yourself in the morning. And why can’t you take the shift?”

“I’m working at the HSC this weekend.”

“Both days?”

“No, but I need a day off.”

Ella blinked. “You never say no. You’re always so good about helping everyone.”

Oh how she hated that adjective applied to her—
good
.

Joe grinned and took two rolls without comment from Ella, the skinny rat-fink bastard. “I don’t think Mallory likes being called
good
, Mom.”

“Of course she does. Why wouldn’t she?”

Right. Why wouldn’t she…

She escaped as soon as dinner was over. Her family was…well, her family. She loved them but they had no idea how much their opinion of her wore her down, that she yearned for so much more, that she wanted to be seen. Seen for herself.

Ty saw her for herself.

Too bad he didn’t see her as someone he wanted in his life.