The Perfect Match (27 page)

Honor tried to pull herself onto the ice again, but it broke under her numb hands, and her arms were too heavy, her legs weren’t obeying.
The body’s job is to preserve the heart and brain,
she could almost hear the narrator saying, because yes, chances were increasing that she’d become one of those stories on the
Back from the Dead
medical stories.

Hopefully.

Oh, Spike. A sob shuddered out of her. Her little dog had gone through so much. She didn’t deserve a pointless death like this, alone in the dark water.

She slipped again, and this time, the water didn’t hurt so much. And this time, her legs were even slower to kick.

Then she was being dragged upward, and held against Tom, and he was moving, he could walk, and the ice was breaking as he muscled his way through to the shore. She couldn’t hear him, the blood was pounding in her ears so much, and it
hurt.
All of her hurt. Her sodden coat dragged at her, and water streamed from her hair.

The shore was steep here, and Tom heaved her out of the water. She landed with a tooth-jarring thud on the hard earth.

His mouth was moving, and my God, he looked so angry she was almost scared. “Spike,” she said, shuddering with the cold, barely able to get the word out. “Please.”

Fuck,
he said. Well, his mouth made that shape, anyway. Honor was shaking so hard it was like one of her sister’s epileptic seizures, and she tried to stand, to help Tom, because yes, he was going back into the water.

* * *

I
F
T
OM
HAD
thought he was cold before he went in the pond, that had been a fucking walk on a tropical beach, hadn’t it? Stupid, stupid Honor, going out on ice after the idiot dog. If it hadn’t held a five-pound dog, how the hell was it going to hold a full-grown woman?

He could feel a slight current in the water, pulling at his clothes, and did a quick calculation in the water—weight, velocity, depth, momentum, resistance—and sloshed over to where he thought the idiot animal might be.

Chances were small to nil, let’s be honest. His chest was tight, his skin screaming against the cold. If he had a heart attack right now, it would serve Honor right, because she’d scared the fucking blood out of his fucking veins.

He reached down, groping. Nothing.

This was not going to end well. He glanced back at Honor, huddled on the shore. Forget the dog. She needed to get warm.

Then his hand brushed something. He grabbed it. Ratty, all right, ice cold and limp, eyes open just a slit.

The dog was dead.

His eyes met Honor’s and she let out a sound he never wanted to hear again.

“Fuck me,” he said. Turned the horrible dog upside down and pressed on its little belly. Water came out of its mouth. It still didn’t move.

Honor was sobbing, crawling over to where he stood. Her hands were bloody.

Tom took the dog’s tiny muzzle in his hand and blew into the dog’s nose. This really took the cake. Mouth-to-mouth for a dog who hated him, bit him, destroyed his shoes, peed on his bath towel and was trying to eat his computer.

He puffed again. The dog’s cheeks flapped, so Tom gripped her muzzle a little harder. Another puff. Two. Three.

Then there was a sharp pain in his lip. Tom jerked back, and Spike started gacking up water. It gave a watery bark, then shook itself, coughed again and barked once more. Alive, the little bugger. Good. Tom could kill it later.

He sloshed to Honor and handed her the evil creature.

“Spike! Spike, honey!” Honor gathered the dog against her chest, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

Without any finesse, as the cold was affecting him as well, he yanked Honor to her feet, grabbed the neckline of her coat and shoved the dog in against her skin. “Hold on to that little rat, because I’m not risking my life for her again,” he said, then swung Honor up into his arms. One of her feet was bare.

By the time he reached the place where her sister was parked, Tom was breathing hard, had a cramp in his calf and was more angry than he could ever remember being in his life.

He tossed Honor in the front seat of Faith’s truck. Good girl, she’d left the keys in. No time to ask for permission; he got in the driver’s side and started it up, then threw it in gear and drove down the hill.

Honor was still shaking, shivering violently, hunched over, her arms folded around herself and the dog. Bloody idiot. Both of them.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Don’t say a word,” he ground out.

Past her father’s, past the grandparents’ crooked house. The tires screeched as he pulled onto Lake Shore Road, and he gunned the engine, laying down rubber as he sped home. His breath made clouds of fury in the cold truck.

Onto their street, into the driveway. Tom barreled out of the truck in a flash. He yanked Honor’s door open and pulled her into his arms again. He might’ve been a little rough, because she gave an
ooph
as he did, but bloody hell.

Into the house, his wet shoes squeaking on the floor. Up the stairs, into the bathroom. He set her down and threw on the taps, then started undressing her, as her hands were shaking too hard. Shaking and bloody and filthy.

From under her shirt, the dog moved. So it was still alive. Pity.

He yanked off her clothes. Her skin was nearly blue.

Fuck.

He grabbed the dog and set the dog in the shower, where it barked. Then Tom lifted Honor in, following her, all his clothes still on.

He still couldn’t look at her. Too bloody furious.

Or something.

Water streamed down Honor’s body, her skin quickly turning pink. She had a bruise on her leg and several cuts, and her eyes looked too big. Tom picked up her dog and stuck it under the water with her, then lathered it up with shampoo, ignoring its little snarls. When he was assured the dog was as warm and mean as usual, he set it outside the tub, where it shook itself dry.

“Thank you,” Honor said again.

Her shivering had stopped.

“You could’ve died for that little rodent,” he said tightly. “Think about what that would’ve done to your family.”

“I’m sorry I scared you, but—”

“No, Honor!” he yelled. his voice bouncing off the tile walls. “It was bloody stupid! A dog isn’t worth what a person is. Look at you! You’re all torn and bloody and you could’ve fucking died in that water! Christ Almighty.”

“Why aren’t you cold, too?” she ventured.

“Because I’m bloody furious!” he barked. “What would I do without you?”

He grabbed her weird pink scrunchy thing and doused it with her shower gel. “I mean, with Immigration,” he muttered.

She didn’t say anything, and after a minute, he glanced up from lathering her shoulders. Her eyes were wet.

“Don’t you dare cry after what you just put me through. You took twenty fucking years off my life. Are you crying? Don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” she said, and her voice only shook a little. “It’s just the water.”

He tossed down the scrunchy and kissed her. Hard. “You fucking terrified me,” he muttered, and kissed her again, this time more gently.

She was alive. She was safe. She was wet and naked and warm.

Then, before he took her right here in the shower, he left, streaming water, sopping wet.

Because the last thing he wanted was to feel all this.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

T
HE
PHONE
WAS
ringing when Honor got out of the shower. Tom’s wet shoes were by his bed, and his car was not in the driveway.

She picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey,” said Faith. “I’m standing here in the kitchen at the New House. Did Tom steal my truck? Dad says he was driving like a bat out of hell. Is everything okay?”

Spike, her damp fur standing up in clumps, jumped up next to her and began gnawing on her thumb. Honor stroked her little tummy, and the dog’s tail wagged. At least Spike was all right. Thanks to Tom.

Honor wiped her eyes. “Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry. I had a little accident. Fell through some ice.”

“My God! Are you okay?” Faith asked.

“Yeah. Just kind of cold.”

“Is Tom all right?”

“He’s fine. He’s, um, he’s not here right now,” Honor said, and there was an embarrassing little tremble in her voice.

Faith was quiet for a second. “Dad will drive me to your place. I’ll pick up dinner first, okay?”

Honor’s eyes filled again, this time with gratitude. “That’d be great,” she said.

An hour later, filled with chicken tikka masala from Taj’s Indian and two glasses of pinot gris, Honor was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a fleece blanket, Spike snoring gently on her chest.

Dad and Mrs. J. had interrogated her about her rash actions. Mrs. J. brought a loaf of comforting blueberry bread and checked the larder to make sure she had enough food; Dad gave her a lecture about ice safety. After a half hour, Faith managed to kick them out. Then she tucked Honor in on the couch, fussing over her quite nicely. Blue cowered under the kitchen table, chewing his disgusting tennis ball, afraid to come within a thirty-foot radius of Spike.

“Tell me again how he tossed you onto shore,” Faith said now.

“He just...did.”

“It’s kind of romantic. He’s really strong, isn’t he? Levi says he’s got a right hook that could stop a tank.”

“Well, he was furious.”

“Sure. Which is pretty romantic, too.”

“Is it?”

“Yes. Trust me. He was worried about you. He saved you. It’s a good sign.”

Honor finished her wine and set the glass on the coffee table, careful not to disturb Spike.

Faith was looking at her thoughtfully. “Honor, you don’t have to marry him, you know. If you’re not sure.”

“Oh, I am. No. It’s just...he’s a little moody.”

“He’s a man. Of course he’s moody.”

“Imagine what they say about us.”

“They don’t talk about us. They’re men.” She paused. “I think you and Tom are really nice together.”

“Do you?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Honor looked at her pretty sister. Faith had been in love twice, once with Jeremy the Perfect, and then with Levi, whom she’d known forever. Could she tell something was off?

“Hey.” The back door banged open, and Pru came in. “Heard you fell through the ice. That was stupid of you.”

“Thanks for your sympathy, Pru,” Honor said. “Faith brought me dinner, Mrs. J. brought dessert. What did you bring?”

“My good wishes,” she said. “Is Tom in the shower? Can I check on him?”

“He had to run out,” Honor said. Dad had also asked about Tom’s whereabouts, and it was a little embarrassing that Honor didn’t know where he was (and hadn’t wanted to call, either).

“Damn.” Prudence hurled herself into a chair. “Where’s Dad? I thought he and Mrs. J. were here.”

“They were,” Faith answered. “We just got rid of them about half an hour ago. Honor and I were having a heart-to-heart.”

“Cool! This place is cute, Honor. Nice work. It wouldn’t kill you to invite me over, you know.”

“Sorry.” The place
was
pretty cute, Honor thought. Family pictures were scattered about, and a few prints hung on the wall. Honor had filled a shelf with paperbacks to go along with Tom’s books on airplanes and bridges. Faith was curled in the leather club chair Honor had brought from her suite at the New House.

It was starting to feel like home, in other words.

“So when are you two making things permanent?” Pru asked, taking a piece of garlic naan and folding it into her mouth.

“Pretty soon,” Honor said. Unless Tom came home and broke up with her, that was. “Maybe early June.”

“Speaking of, are we getting matching dresses for Dad’s wedding?” Pru asked. “Because I’d just as soon wear jeans.”

“You’re not wearing jeans,” Honor said. “And don’t wear jeans tomorrow night, either. You have to wear black or white.”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. Faith made me buy a dress. You guys are so bossy. Okay, I gotta go. Just wanted to check on you, Honor.” She bent down and planted a kiss on Honor’s head. “See you tomorrow. Oh, hey! Guess what Carl and I did last night? Pumpkin pie has never been so sexy. Wanna hear about it?”

“Nope,” said Honor.

“Never,” Faith said at the same time.

“Fine, fine. No one ever wants to hear my stories.” The front door opened, and there stood their brother. “Hey, Useless. What’s up?”

“Hey, guys,” Jack said, leaning down and hacking off a piece of blueberry bread. “Honor, I heard you were an idiot and went onto Ellises’ pond.”

“Yep,” Honor said. “But I rescued your doggy niece, so show a little gratitude.” She pointed to the sleeping Spike.

“You need to get a life.”

Faith, Honor and Prudence all snorted at once. “What?” said Jack.

“Pot,” Honor replied. “Kettle. Black. And I’m living with someone, soon to be married, so shut it.”

“At least I don’t wander out onto partially frozen ponds and then wonder why the ice breaks.”

“Thank you, Jack.”

Tom’s voice made them all jerk around.

He wasn’t smiling, and his eyes bounced off her and went instead to her siblings. “This is very nice, all of you coming over to check on your sister, but I hope you won’t mind if I ask you to leave.”

“I personally wanna stay,” said Pru. “Heard you were very heroic and manly, Tommy boy.”

“Yes.” He allowed a slight smile. “But you still have to go.”

“I will if you’ll take off your shirt,” she said.

“Get out, Pru,” Honor said.

“Oh, come on! I’m married to Carl. Throw me a bone.” She eyed Tom appreciatively. “Faith got to see him when he was boxing with Levi. It’s my turn.”

“Let’s go,” Faith said. “Don’t mind her, Tom, she’s having a hot flash.”

“I have been having a lot of those lately,” Pru said thoughtfully. “I had to lie in a patch of snow today. Felt like simultaneously murdering someone and crying.”

“Why do we always have to talk about female problems?” Jack asked.

“Shut up, you big baby,” Prudence said, grabbing her coat. “Fine. See you, kids.”

“Take care,” Jack said, shaking Tom’s hand. “Thanks for saving our idiot sister.” Faith stood as well, and started to gather up the cartons of Indian food.

“I’ll take care of that, Faith, but thank you,” Tom said.

“Okay,” she said, going over and smooching his cheek. “We’d be lost without her, you know.” She hugged Honor for a few beats, her cheek soft and plump, her nice Faithie smell enveloping Honor. When she stood up, her eyes were wet. “See you tomorrow,” she said. She kissed Spike on the head, then dragged Blue out from under the table and left.

The house seemed much bigger without them. Tom sat down in the chair opposite the couch and looked at her, his face blank. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Thank you.” It was hard to look at him for some reason. Probably because he’d kissed the stuffing out of her in the shower. When she was naked. And then he’d left.

Faith was right. Men were not in touch with their emotions. “Why’d you kick out my family?”

“I wanted to apologize.”

The words made her bones melt.

“I’m sorry I kissed you.”

Oh, snap. Men were jerks. Even if this particular specimen had saved her doggy’s life.

“Yeah, whatever,” she said

“And I’m sorry I lost my temper.”

We love this guy,
said the eggs. “Shut up,” Honor muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, um, nothing. Not you.” She sat up a little straighter and adjusted Spike, who sighed and wrapped a tiny paw around Honor’s thumb. “Don’t apologize, Tom. You saved us both, and I really, really appreciate it.”

“Yes.” He paused. “I want you to promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“You won’t ever risk your life for an animal again. Even Ratty. It’s not worth it, Honor.”

Ratty’s—er, Spike’s fur was soft under Honor’s hand, and she could feel the dog’s fragile rib cage moving up and down with each breath.

“Promise?” he said.

“No.”

He straightened. “Honor—”

“No. I’m sorry, but no. I can’t.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Honor.”

“Look, Tom, I’m sorry you had to come in to help me. I really am. I didn’t start the day off thinking, ‘You know what? If Spike ever goes through the ice, I’ll definitely risk my life to save her.’ I just...acted. I didn’t plan it, and I’m sorry you had to be involved.”

“You should be grateful I was! Since you would’ve died without me, don’t forget!” He took a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his voice was calmer. “But you can’t risk your life for a dog. She’s not a child.”

“I know that. But she means a lot to me.”

“Too much, obviously.”

Honor stroked the top of Spike’s bony little head. “You know, I was like you. I always thought people were kind of dopey about their dogs. But I never had one before Spike. I mean, we had them growing up, but I never had a dog of my own.”

Tom said nothing.

“I proposed to Brogan, did I tell you that? On my birthday. I figured what the hell, I was tired of waiting, so I just did it. You know what he said?”

“He turned you down.”

“Yes. He said I was like an old baseball glove. Something you kept, but not something you needed every day.”

“That’s the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s a simile, and thank you. But I wasted
years
on him. A decade of my adult life, waiting for him to really see me. He never did. If anyone had ever described that same relationship to me, I’d have said the woman was being deliberately blind to the fact that she was being used. But every time we were together, I thought,
This
is the time he’ll say what I’ve been waiting to hear,
that he’d finally realize he loves me and I’m special and perfect for him and he wants to spend his whole life with me.”

The memory was still humiliating...all those years, all those other men she measured against a man who didn’t really love her.

“He never said those things, obviously.” She sighed. “So I was watching Faith and her dopey dog one day after he turned me down, and I called the vet and asked if they knew of any dogs who might need a home.” Her throat tightened. “They were treating a dog who was maybe going to make it. Someone had poured gasoline on her. Her fur was mostly missing, and she was deaf in one ear and she was just getting over a broken leg.”

Tom rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “Honor, I—”

“When I got to take her home, they had to wrap her in gauze and put her in a special bag, because it hurt her too much to be lifted. And when I was walking to the parking lot, this firefighter came over, Gerard. And Gerard is six foot five and can probably pick up a car, and you know what Spike did? She growled at him. She was protecting me. Five pounds, all beat up and abused, wrapped in gauze, and she was defending me from a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound stranger. She loved me from the minute I saw her. No questions asked.”

“I understand, but—”

“So when I saw her fall through the ice, I just went after her. Without thinking, because I couldn’t bear the thought of her dying in there alone.”

Spike chose that moment to sneeze, waking herself up, and Honor gave the dog a kiss. Spike licked her nose in return.

“Next time, you have to think,” Tom said softly. “Please, Honor. You’re someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, someone’s aunt. And you’ll be someone’s mother someday. You can’t just risk your life for a dog, no matter how much you love her.”

He looked at her steadily, until she finally nodded. She couldn’t imagine hearing that Faith had died trying to save Blue, or Jack saving that hideous, one-eared cat of his. Tom was right, no matter how wrong it felt.

She noticed he hadn’t said
someone’s wife.

He stood up and bent over her. “Come on. Bedtime for you both.”

“I can walk, you know.”

“But isn’t this more fun?” He gave her the smile she’d seen so much...the one that didn’t quite make it to his eyes. Not that he was faking it; just that his happiness—and heart—seemed locked tightly away.

“Sure. Do your manly thing.”

For the third time that day, he lifted her into his arms and carried her up the stairs, ignoring Spike as she wriggled and snarled, trying to bite his arm.

For a second, Honor thought Tom might put her in his own bed, and she wanted that so much her chest ached and her throat tightened, but no, he carried her into her own room. Set her down on the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. “You need anything?” he asked.

You,
she thought. “No,” she whispered.

“Sleep well, then.”

“You, too.”

With that, he clicked off her light and went to the door. “Honor?”

Her heart rate sped up. “Yes?”

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I’m very glad you and Ratty are all right.”

Not what she was hoping for. The disappointment made her sink a little deeper into the mattress. “Thank you. For everything, Tom.”

“See you in the morning.”

And then he closed her door and went across the hall, leaving her alone in the dark with her dog.