When You Are Mine (5 page)

“What about you?”

Tables neatly turned.

“What about me?” He tipped his head back, prepared to confess like she was his high priestess if it would buy him another five minutes with her. “My story was written before I was even born. All laid out for me.”

“I don’t believe that.” She sipped her own Diet Coke, eyes getting tangled up with his over the can.

“It’s true. My mom knew what she wanted for me, and so did my dad. They’ve been pulling me in opposite directions, fighting over me since the divorce when I was thirteen years old.”

“Boo hoo hoo.” He tasted a little sarcasm sprinkled in with her teasing. “Poor little rich boy had parents who wanted him so badly they fought over him.”

“It wasn’t like that.”

He knew his tone was defensive. She was teasing him, but everyone made assumptions about him because of the privileges he’d been born into. He didn’t want her to do that.

“I would have given everything if my parents had been able to work it out. If we could have been a family. I don’t really care about the stuff.”

“I believe you.” The look she gave him knew more than it should. “Your parents had to do something right, in their own way, for you to turn out like you have. I’ve heard your mother brag more than once that you’re the best of them both. Can you see that?”

“Can you?” He wasn’t sure what he meant by the question, but he felt certain she would know how to respond.

“Yes.” She didn’t look away. He could not.

He was the son of Martin and Kristeene Bennett in every way, constantly living in the dichotomy of that, dwelling between the warring factions of his heredity. And for the first time he really believed someone saw him in his entirety.

“Kerris,” he began, but the buzz of her cell phone interrupted.

“’Scuse me.” She glanced at her phone and back to him, her other hand wandering up to the knot of hair secured on her head. “It’s Cam.”

She answered, and he blew out the breath his chest had been holding hostage.

“Hey, baby. Yeah, Walsh dropped the food off. It was delicious. He stayed to eat with me.”

Walsh stood to scrape the remnants of their meal into the garbage disposal, grinding the food and the intimacy they’d shared with the flick of the switch. He rinsed and dried the plates, packing everything up.

Her voice dipped lower. He couldn’t make out what she was saying, but he sensed the ease that existed between her and Cam. Easy, not the fierce knot of urges and compulsions he wrestled to the ground every time he was around her.

“Sorry about that.” She slid the phone in her back pocket. “Cam was just checking in.”

“Everything good?” He distracted himself with one final sweep of the kitchen to make sure he hadn’t left anything.

“Yeah.” She tossed their soda cans into the recycling bin against the wall. “He was just finishing up. He’ll swing through on his way out.”

“Cool. I’ll get going then.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow at the hospital.” She looked at him with wide eyes. “I mean, I assume…you’ve been coming…”

So she
had
noticed.

“You’re right. I always go on Tuesdays to see Iyani. I like to see her having fun with the other girls. It’s become her favorite thing here in the States.”

“She’s precious.” Kerris’s smile played tug-of-war with her sad eyes. “Have they scheduled her surgery?”

“Yeah. She had an infection so they had to postpone it, but she’s ready now. It’s set for this Friday.”

Walsh drew a roughened breath around the brambles crowding his chest. The procedure could save or end Iyani’s life.

“Worrying won’t do any good.” Kerris grabbed his hand, squeezing comfort into his tensed fingers.

He glanced from their clasped hands back up to her face, watching the sweet tension that always sprang up between them draw her brows together and tighten her full mouth into a line. She pulled her hand free.

“I’d better get back to work.”

She rushed back out to the front room and picked up her paint roller. Walsh recognized a tactical withdrawal when he saw one.

“You want me to stay and help?” He started rolling up the sleeves of his mint green Brooks Brothers shirt.

“No, you go on home. I’ve got maybe thirty more minutes. Cam’s on his way.”

She faced the wall for a few moments without moving, head bent. Walsh willed her to look at him one more time. As if the tensile string that always seemed to snap between them had pulled her inexorably into it, she glanced at him over one slim shoulder.

That steamy awareness wafted between them again, agitating his insides until his breaths slipped over his lips like puffs of smoke.

She looked like snared prey.

“You’d better go,” she finally said. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you at the hospital tomorrow.”

She offered no response and he didn’t wait for one. Just turned and left.

B
rightly colored blankets dotted the riverbank, crowded with picnic baskets and sun lovers on the Fourth of July. Kerris and Cam approached an empty patch of grass, swinging their clasped hands. They spread the blanket, shared a smile, and unpacked their picnic basket. Cam stretched out on the blanket, recapturing her hand to leisurely stroke her slim fingers. He considered their hands together, a small smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

“What’s this?” He lifted the leather strap encircling her wrist.

“That’s the bracelet Iyani made for me.”

The bracelet held block letters spelling Iyani’s name. The smile Kerris pushed onto her lips felt like a too-tight sweater.

“Her surgery is tomorrow. She wanted me to have it, just in case. I hate that she has had to even consider the possibility of dying. It’s so unfair.”

“Baby, if anyone knows about unfair childhoods, it’s you and me. You learn to roll with whatever punches come your way. No matter what.”

“What punches came your way?” She squeezed his hand, inviting a confidence she wasn’t sure she was ready to reciprocate.

“Punches?” Cam boarded up his usually open face.

They’d both known so much pain at an early age, but had ironically shared few details with each other. She thought of the night she and Walsh had eaten soul food at the bungalow, of how he had effortlessly drawn her out. She so rarely discussed her time in foster care, choosing to put one foot in front of the other and move forward as quickly as possible, leaving the past behind.

“Don’t you think the woman you’ve asked to marry you should know about your past?”

“Is she going to share hers?” Cam stroked the hair back from her face.

“If you want to know.” She braved a quick glance at his solemn face.

“I’ve only ever talked to Walsh about that stuff.” His fingers continued to twist the block letters on Iyani’s bracelet. He couldn’t seem to look at her. “He has a way of getting shit outta you that you swore you’d never talk about.”

She had experienced firsthand the truth serum of Walsh’s irresistible, probing concern.

“Is there room to join you guys?” Jo asked from a few feet away, agilely weaving her long, lean limbs between blankets. “I think we can fit in right here beside you.”

We?

Kerris looked past Jo, dismayed to see Walsh and Sofie headed their way, both loaded down with blankets and picnic baskets. Kerris’s heart twisted. She knew a marriage between Sofie and Walsh was a certain eventuality, but she just couldn’t see him with her. There was something at the girl’s very core that seemed cold; cold and hard and not worthy of him.

“Are we interrupting?” Walsh spread out a blanket and set down a basket.

“You can only be interrupting so much out here in the open. Ker’s not into public displays of affection.” Cam laughed when Kerris’s eyes stretched with embarrassment. “I’m only teasing you, baby.”

Kerris leaned her cheek into his kiss, her smile as hard and stiff as drywall. Her eyes dropped from the intensity of Walsh’s. He looked away, too, occupying himself with getting set up. They all dug into the food they’d packed, reaching across the blankets to share and sample one another’s feasts.

Kerris glanced at Walsh’s wrist, touched to see that he wore the bracelet Iyani had given him. She looked up, finding his sober eyes on her bracelet, too. She knew tomorrow’s risky surgery caused him the same fear, anxiety, and hope.

“Walsh.” She raised her voice just enough to be heard over the music and the crowd.

Walsh didn’t hear, but the other three did. Their stares rested heavily on her.

“Walsh,” she repeated, erecting a firewall against the icy, wintergreen eyes Sofie leveled her way.

“Yeah?” He turned his head in her direction.

“Um, would it be okay if I come to the hospital tomorrow for Iyani’s surgery?” She pushed the words past the self-consciousness drying out her mouth. Her heart beat a furious tom-tom in her chest. She twisted a blade of grass between busy fingers, refusing to look away.

“Of course,” he said, eyes serious. “I’d like the company.”

Walsh looked away from Kerris, hoping he wasn’t betraying himself to the other three, all of whom had known him long enough to detect his discomfort. A clenched fist, a tightened muscle in his jaw. Small things, but they were the physical responses he always seemed to have around Kerris. How was it that he’d known Jo, Cam, and Sofie his whole life, and yet it was Kerris to whom he felt most connected?

He hated this. Hated keeping his growing feelings to himself. Hated deceiving Cam, letting him believe he was barely aware of his best friend’s girlfriend, when in reality he could think of little else. And most of all, he hated seeing Cam’s hands on Kerris.

Touching her arm. Pushing the soft, dark cloud of hair away from her face. Raining kisses down the graceful line of her neck.

Walsh balled his hands into impotent fists and leaned back on his elbows, watching the couple surreptitiously. He had no right to this jealousy, this sense that Cam should keep his damn hands off her. It was unreasonable. He knew it, but he had to physically restrain himself from snatching her away from Cam.

This was only getting harder. He needed to get away. He’d be returning to Kenya soon, either taking a recovered Iyani back to the orphanage, or…He couldn’t complete that thought even to himself. He had grown to love that little girl’s boundless spirit. He glanced down at the bracelet, thinking of how somberly she had presented the identical bracelets to him and Kerris Tuesday at the hospital. Kerris had been taping one of Iyani’s drawings to the wall when the child had called her over to sit on the bed with her and Walsh.

“Just in case,” Iyani had whispered, fear-soaked tears in her dark eyes. “So you won’t forget me.”

“I could never forget you, sweet girl.” Kerris had leaned down to kiss the jagged scar covering one side of Iyani’s scalp, a reminder that she had survived one skirmish with death already. “I won’t need this bracelet to remember you because you’ll be here with us, but thank you so much. I love it.”

Walsh looked at Kerris now, eyes closed as Cam played with the soft tendrils of hair flowering around her forehead. He knew Cam would ask her again to marry him at summer’s end. Walsh wasn’t sure he could allow it. The ancient instincts of a hunter swelled in his chest, the primeval nature of a warrior demanding that he fight for her, win her. Could he do that to Cam?

He watched Cam run his finger down the smoothness of Kerris’s cheek. Cam had never been this way with anyone before. Either he was running from some woman who wanted to have sex with him, or he was chasing some woman he wanted to have sex with. It really had never gotten more complex than that for Cam with women. But he recognized the tenderness, the concern, the genuine affection and admiration his friend held for Kerris.

“Cam, did you see the elephant ears they’re selling?” Jo stood to her feet and stretched one summer-gold arm down to him. “Come on. Let’s go grab some.”

Cam looked down at Kerris, uncertainty on his face.

“She’s knocked out.” Jo scrunched her brows, obviously a little irritated. “She’ll be fine. Walsh and Sofie are here, and we’ll be right back.”

Cam allowed Jo to pull him to his feet, casting one more glance over his shoulder at his sleeping girlfriend before walking off, his arm hooked around Jo’s neck.

“Sofie!” Walsh recognized a local reporter from a few feet away. “Could we get those shots of you we talked about? With the kids?”

“I forgot, there’s some foundation kids here tonight, and the
Rivermont Herald
wanted some pictures of me with them.” Sofie groaned softly. “Do you mind?”

“They don’t want pictures of me.” Walsh laughed, deliberately looking away from the fast-approaching reporter. “I’m off today.”

Tossing a mildly reproachful look his way, Sofie stood and met the reporter halfway, allowing him to guide her toward the photo op. Walsh crawled over to Kerris, kicking himself for not being able to stay away from this woman for thirty seconds. He leaned down toward her ear, drawing in her sweet smell. Sun-toasted vanilla poured over her clean skin.

“I know you’re not sleep,” he whispered in her ear, grinning as her eyelids flickered.

“Well, not now,” she whispered back, eyes still slammed shut.

“Not before, either.” He laughed and sat up beside her.

She leaped to her feet and started toward the river. Walsh hesitated, not sure if she was seriously peeved about her nap, or if she was teasing. He stayed seated on the blanket, watching her. Her hair was loose today, hanging down to the middle of her back, blowing back like a dark banner in the light breeze. She wore a cotton candy pink calico skirt that belled out, hanging to just above her knees. A sea green tank top tucked into the skirt showed off her tiny waist.

“You coming, or what?” She looked back over her shoulder, mischief in her grin.

“I’m coming.” He almost tripped over his feet.

Idiot.

“Are you getting in?” He noticed for the first time that she was barefoot and heading toward the water.

“Not exactly.” She laughed up at him, eclipsing the splendor of the setting sun behind her. “I’m just wading in at the edge to gather a few rocks.”

“Gather rocks? For what?”

“Ah, grasshopper.” She bowed slightly with clasped hands at her chest. “The pupil becomes the teacher. I’m gathering rocks for a little business venture I have in mind.”

“Pardon me for stating the obvious, but you haven’t started your first business venture yet, have you? A little ambitious to already be ‘gathering’ for the next one.”

“You’ve got some nerve talking to me about ambition.” She angled a sweet smile his way.

“Point taken.” He watched her lean forward to scoop an oblong rock from beneath the glassy surface of the water. “So, what exactly are you doing?”

“Some of these rocks are so beautiful.” She smiled, holding the rock in her hand, rubbing the excess water away. “I think they’d look great as jewelry.”

He looked at the smooth, crystalline stone in her hand, swirled with black, red, and green.

“Once Déjà Vu is up and running, I’ll focus on learning the technique I need to know and figuring out how to do it. For now, I’d just like to find a pretty rock for Iyani.”

“You’re something else, you know that?”

The crowd teeming around them, the children’s laughter, the kites billowing overhead—it all went into soft focus. The world had sharply narrowed to this river princess with rocks bundled in her skirt. Walsh watched the teasing laughter in her eyes die. Her pupils dilated and her breath quickened, making him wonder if her world had narrowed down to him, too.

“Walsh,” Sofie called from the riverbank, her strident tone snapping them to attention. “I need you. The reporter wants shots of both of us with the kids.”

Walsh stepped back. “See you later.”

“Come on!” Sofie snapped, stepping down to grab his hand and pull him farther away from Kerris. “The kids are waiting.”

The sight of them holding hands, towering over her like ruling monarchs, looking perfect together, made Kerris feel so ordinary—insignificant, like one of the pebbles under her feet. She was glad Sofie had walked up. She had to be imagining that Walsh felt the same intimate pull that she had. Sofie was Walsh’s reality. And Kerris’s reality was walking toward her with a smile, proffering an elephant ear.

“You’re awake. Want one?” Cam eyed the departing couple speculatively. “Gotta give it to Sof. That girl is determined to catch her man.”

“Seems like he’s not running too hard.” Kerris bit into the sweet fried dough.

“I dunno.” Cam frowned and wiped powdered sugar from the corner of her mouth. “I know everyone thinks they’re made for each other, but not sure Walsh sees it that way. Or at least he didn’t used to. I always thought Walsh would fall in love with some girl no one saw coming. He’s a closet romantic.”

“What makes you think that?” Kerris tried to rein in her stampeding heart.

“I know him better than everybody else.” Cam tugged her hand to help her out of the water. “I think Walsh will want to marry a girl he loves. I just don’t see him ever loving Sofie.”

“Maybe someone should tell Sofie that.” Kerris ran her fingers over the few rocks she had collected.

“Someone has.” Cam gave a short laugh. “Walsh has, in every way he can think of, but she keeps coming like a tank. A beautiful, sexy tank. I’ll give her that, but I don’t know if she’s gonna land him.”

“Jo thinks she will.”

“Really?” Cam raised both eyebrows, obviously surprised. “She must know something I don’t.”

“Look, the fireworks are about to start. Let’s go watch.”

She changed gears with no clutch, not wanting to spend another minute talking about Walsh and Sofie.