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Authors: Jasmine Haynes

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BOOK: Mine Until Morning
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“If you need to talk,” Isabel added, “I’m always here for you.”

Isabel was one of the few people who knew the true toll Kern’s illness had taken on her. “I appreciate it, but I’m fine, honestly. I’ll get through this.”

“I know you will. You were always the strong one. But you don’t have to do it all alone.”

Yes, she did. Isabel knew that, too, because she was the same way. “Thanks. I’ll wait to hear back.”

Hanging up, Dani didn’t feel so strong now. In the beginning, getting paid for sex had been a unique thrill. Kern had gotten off on it, too. But the massive financial crisis she found herself in had stolen the fun out of it. Not to mention the fact that she and Kern had always enjoyed talking about it afterward, giving her a second high out of it. It wouldn’t be the same doing it all alone, but whatever. Taking care of some of these bills and getting back on her feet was all that mattered for the time being.

She and Kern had made some bad choices. She couldn’t blame him; she’d agreed to everything, starting the business, canceling the life insurance, the shitty medical plan. Yeah, when you’re in your mid-thirties, healthy and happy, you don’t think about dying. You think you’ve got years to accomplish anything you want. Until the day some doctor says you’ve got only a few months left to live.

Water under the bridge. Right now, she needed Isabel to find her a date.

AFTER A LONG DAY AT THE OFFICE, MCKINLEY DAWSON PULLED into the circular driveway of his brother’s house. His heart hurt simply looking at the familiar wood siding and manicured bushes. He wondered how long it would be before he stopped seeing Kern’s emaciated, ravaged body and could remember him the way he used to be. God, he missed him. They’d lost their parents years ago, their dad to a heart attack and Mom to breast cancer. He’d never expected to lose Kern so soon. At thirty-nine, Kern had been five years younger than Mac, 10

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for God’s sake. It didn’t seem possible. Or fair. Now Kern had tasked him with taking care of his wife. Dani was tough. Amazing, in fact, with the way she’d handled everything. In the eighteen-month battle she and Kern had fought with his cancer, Mac had seen only one crack in her facade. She’d shored it up quickly, and he still saw her as the last woman who would need taking care of. He’d made that deathbed promise, however, and dammit, he was here to make sure she had whatever she needed. Standing on the pebbled front stoop, he could hear the doorbell echoing through the house. The two weeks before Kern’s death, when things got really bad, he and Dani had shared caring for him, with hospice aides coming in twice a day. He hadn’t rung the doorbell then. He’d simply walked in. In the evenings, after a grueling day that had seemed to last forever, while Kern slept, Mac and Dani shared a bottle of wine, talk, a movie. They’d watched Young Frankenstein, and he remembered laughing hysterically, followed by the stab of guilt at being capable of laughter. The last couple of days, after Kern fell into the coma, he’d spent the night so Dani wouldn’t be alone if . . . when . . . For those two weeks, he’d felt closer to her than to any other human being, even Kern. He couldn’t adequately express how much it meant that she hadn’t hesitated to allow him those last few precious days with his brother. Some people never got to say good-bye. Then Kern was gone, his ashes scattered, and she’d slammed the metaphorical door in Mac’s face. Inside, he heard her shoes on the tile entry hall. The door swung open.

“You’re early. I’m not quite ready.” She glanced up, fastening an earring in her lobe, and stopped, her lips parted as if she’d been about to add something. Holy hell.

She wore a short black cocktail dress, the deep scoop of the neckline barely covering her nipples. In sheer black stockings and fuck-me high heels, her legs were miles long. Statuesque when bare-foot, with the heels and standing a step up from him in the front hall, she was actually taller than his own six-two. Her auburn hair curled about her shoulders like a wave, and her lips were painted a deep, luscious red.

Christ, she smelled good. Something subtly sweet and exotic like the bottled scent of feminine arousal.

The hall clock started to chime. Behind him, a car pulled into the opposite end of the circular drive, a long black sedan. 11

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She had a date. Kern hadn’t been dead two weeks, and she had a fucking date.

“Sorry. Didn’t know you were going out.” He couldn’t get the hell away fast enough. What the fuck? He needed time to think before he said something he’d regret.

So he left her with the entry light shining down on her burnished hair. She still hadn’t said a word. As he pulled away, in his rearview mirror he saw a man climb out of the car, tall, black suit.

Had she been cheating on Kern while he lay dying? Mac’s head whirled with a load of shitty thoughts. That bitch. His hands tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white.

She didn’t need him to fucking take care of her. She’d already had someone on the side.

His blood raced in his ears, and he wanted to pound something. Passing through a green light, the bright neon of a bar sign flashed from the street corner, and Mac pulled into the parking lot.

He needed a drink.

It felt as if he had to pry his stiff fingers off the steering wheel. All he could hear was Kern’s voice in his head.

I fucked up so bad, man.

In a rare moment of lucidity, before he succumbed to the coma, Kern had gripped Mac’s hand. Dani was out getting groceries, and to grab a breath of fresh air away from Kern’s sickroom. Mac had thought she needed it. While he spent as much time as he could, she’d borne the brunt of taking care of Kern.

“You didn’t fuck up,” Mac had told his brother. Moisture trickled from Kern’s left eye, but not his right. Mac’s guts twisted as he wiped it away.

“I did, man, screwed up real bad. You don’t know. I was a bad husband. I let her down in so many ways. Now I’m dying on her.”

They’d had the storybook marriage; they were happy. Until Kern got sick.

“It’s not your fault. You couldn’t help it.”

Kern shook his head. “You don’t know what she’s done for me. You don’t know what I’ve put her through. It’s all my fault.” He dropped back against the pillow, his face going completely slack, eyelids drooping. Chest tight, a knot in his throat, Mac put two fingers to Kern’s wrist. It 12

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seemed like an eternity before he found a pulse. Kern opened his eyes and spoke as if the moment hadn’t happened. “Promise me you’ll take care of her.”

“Of course.” Though Mac knew Dani wouldn’t need it. She was strong. Kern clutched his hand, squeezing with more vigor than Mac would have thought possible.

“Don’t tell her I’m saying any of this, okay? She’ll kill me if she knew.” Kern laughed, then lapsed into a choking cough, his throat rattling. He sucked on the straw Mac held out, his lips dry and cracked despite the Vaseline Mac had rubbed in only a short time ago.

“Joke’s on me, I guess.” Kern drew in a deep breath. “Where’s my cell phone?”

“Right here, buddy.” On the bedside table along with Kern’s watch, wallet, and keys. As if one of these days he was going to get up out of the hospital bed hospice had brought to the house for him.

“Take it, man. After I’m gone, let her get settled a bit, then call the first number on speed dial.”

“Sure. What’ll I say?”

“Just say you’re my brother, and that you want to help Dani.”

“I will.” Mac agreed to everything to ease his brother’s worry.

“She’s gonna hate it when she knows I told you. But don’t let that stop you, okay?”

“I won’t.” Though Kern hadn’t told him a damn thing. Mac still didn’t know why Kern thought he’d fucked up, what he believed Mac could do for Dani by calling a number, or how the hell long he was supposed to wait to let her “get settled.”

That night, Kern lapsed into a coma. He never came out of it. Two days later, he was gone. Dani never asked where his cell phone was. Sitting in the bar’s parking lot, the neon sign flashing on, off, Mac experienced the rush of revelation.

He didn’t know where she was going tonight or who the guy driving the car was, but he knew one thing. She’d loved Kern. She’d gone through eighteen months of hell, spent hours at his bedside, soothed his brow, cleaned him, held the tissues as he coughed up phlegm, and so much more. She wouldn’t have cheated on him. There had to be another explanation. Something to do with the 13

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phone number Kern had wanted Mac to use.

It was time to make that call.

14

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2

KERN’S PHONE WAS BURNING A HOLE IN HIS POCKET. MAC HAD BEEN torn, feeling uncomfortable poking around in something he didn’t understand, especially when Kern said Dani would hate it. Now, though, between his promise to Kern and Dani’s odd behavior, he didn’t have a choice. Or maybe that was justification for satisfying his curiosity.

Pulling Kern’s phone from his suit jacket, Mac flipped it on. Hitting the first speed dial, the caller ID read Isabel. Jesus. It couldn’t have been Kern having the affair. But wait . . . Isabel. She’d attended Kern’s memorial. A good-looking blonde. Dani’d hugged her, but didn’t introduce her to Mac, and she hadn’t come to the house afterward along with everyone else. He didn’t have time for further analysis as he connected.

“Dani, what are you doing using Kern’s phone?” The voice husky, sexy, the woman obviously knew the number on the caller ID.

“This isn’t Dani.”

She gasped. “Kern? Oh my God. Kern.”

His stomach twisted. “No, Kern’s dead. You were at his memorial. This is his brother, McKinley Dawson.”

“Oh.” She paused. “You scared me.” She puffed out a breath. “I thought it was one of those phone calls from the hereafter.”

“You’ve gotten calls from the hereafter before?” Damn. Was she some sort of psychic scam artist that Dani and Kern had gotten involved with?

“No, I’ve never received a call. But it’s always within the realm of possibility.”

She breathed out a long sigh, as if she were trying to get her heart rate under control. “You sound like him, you know.”

Mac had never really thought about that. “Look, Kern gave me his cell phone and said to call you so that I could help Dani.”

A phone rang in the background, followed by a low voice, so he knew she was still on the line despite her lengthy silence. “Did he say how you were supposed to help Dani?” she finally asked.

“No.”

“Did he tell you who I am?”

“No.”

15

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“What did he say?”

“Just to call this number, tell you I was his brother, and that I wanted to help Dani. That’s it.” He paused to let it sink in. “So what the hell is this all about?”

She growled. “He said he was going to do this, and I warned him not to.”

“Well, he didn’t listen. I want to know what I have to be worried about here.”

“Nothing. Dani can take care of herself.”

He’d have agreed until he saw Dani dressed to kill tonight. “I won’t know until I hear the story.”

“Look, Mr. Dawson, Kern was a very sweet man, but he didn’t have the right to reveal Dani’s secrets without her permission. I’ve already stuck my nose into one friend’s business, and I realize now that was wrong. So I’m not telling you anything, and I won’t mention to her that you called. This is strictly between you and Dani. You figure out how to bring it up with her. Whatever she decides she wants you to know is her call.”

“You sure do know how to pique a man’s curiosity.” Except that what he felt was more than that.

“I most certainly do.”

For the first time, he heard a smile in her voice and suspected a double entendre. “Fair enough,” he agreed. “I’ll talk to Dani about it.”

“If she wants your help, feel free to call back. And Mr. Dawson, just so you know, I’m looking out for Dani, too. You really don’t have to worry.”

Damn. The woman had him going. What the hell was up with Dani? He’d thought he and Kern were so close, yet his brother had been keeping things from him. Mac was beyond being pissed at a possible affair, way past mere curiosity. His need to know was fast becoming obsession. And it was definitely not good to have any kind of obsessive feelings about your brother’s widow.

GOD, WHAT HAD MAC THOUGHT LAST NIGHT WHEN HE’D SEEN HER party dress? She couldn’t think about that now. Maybe after a cup of coffee, she’d dream up a reasonable excuse to give him the next time she saw him. Dani poured herself a mug of the strong brew, grabbed the paper off the front porch, and carried both out to the back patio. The morning sun was already warm and the air still muggy after the storm two days ago. It was the most changeable early-fall weather she’d seen in the Bay Area in quite a few years. 16

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She hoped it signaled the end of the drought.

In more ways than one.

She’d stuffed last night’s envelope in her purse to take to the bank. She preferred weeknight dates, starting and ending the evening earlier rather than staying out to all hours. The guy had been nice enough, in San Francisco on a business trip from Atlanta. He’d chosen a luxury hotel on Union Square, dinner at a hot spot on Geary, continental cuisine. It had all been so . . . ordinary, lacking the thrill she got when she had Kern to go home to. In the beginning, Kern had liked to watch her in action, though he never participated. Isabel chose clients who were into that. Kern was always making suggestions on new positions or acts he wanted her to try. There’d been times when he’d gotten so turned on, he needed to relive it all in their own bed when they got home. After he no longer felt well enough to go out with her, he still wanted to know every detail when she arrived home. The naughty recounting made it hot, sexy, and exciting for her all over again. Last night, she’d had no one to go home to. No one with whom to share the experience. She didn’t feel dirty, just tired. And alone. She’d stopped taking dates a couple of months before Kern died. For the most part, he hadn’t been the cancer patient you saw on TV, with tubes and IVs and no hair. Up until the last month, he was just tired, listless, slept a lot, and said he couldn’t think properly. That bothered him the most, his inability to process, the things he forgot, how he couldn’t come to a logical conclusion. Even his mind was slipping away from him. One night as Mac was leaving, Kern had asked him where he lived. A sickening sense of dread had settled in the pit of her stomach. Mac had simply looked at her, his heart in his eyes. Dani sighed and picked up her phone. Hopefully soon those niggling memories wouldn’t come back to haunt her.

BOOK: Mine Until Morning
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