When You Are Mine (6 page)

W
hat’s taking so long?” Walsh asked the question for probably the hundredth time.

Kerris watched him pace back and forth in the small hospital waiting room, wanting to comfort him, to give him answers she knew they would have to wait for. Iyani had been so brave going into surgery, clutching the rock Kerris had brought her like a talisman with mystical powers of courage.

Kerris fingered the leather bracelet encircling her wrist, blinking back tears. It had been seven hours. Walsh had been on his laptop working for a good part of the day, staying connected to Walsh Foundation business, and, to her surprise, Bennett Enterprises. She hadn’t realized until today how involved he was in his father’s business affairs.

She had brought her laptop as well, glad that Meredith had installed the business software package so she could do some preliminary accounting and inventory work for Déjà Vu. She had also brought her sketch pad to capture ideas for her river rock jewelry. They both had plenty to occupy their time and attention, but that awareness of each other remained. From time to time, she would glance up from her laptop or from doodling on her pad to find his eyes resting on her. He wouldn’t look away immediately, but held the look before returning to his own task, unnerving Kerris.

No sign of Dr. Myer bearing news, good or bad. Kerris felt completely helpless; useless. She hadn’t wanted to go anywhere, even to the bathroom, in case she missed Dr. Myer coming out of surgery. At this point, her butt was numb and her leg had fallen asleep where she had it curled under her.

“I’ll go grab you some hot coffee.” She stood up, stretching her arms out like a clothesline.

“No, stay.” Walsh reached for her wrist, pulling her back down to the seat beside him. “If I have any more coffee, I’ll piss my pants.”

She smiled for the first time in hours. Walsh twisted their fingers together in his lap. The smile shriveled on her lips. Her palms moistened and her foot started a
tap tap tap
on the wax-slick waiting room floor.

“I just want her to be okay, Ker.” The deep assurance she had become accustomed to was completely absent from Walsh’s low voice. “If she dies…”

“If she dies, you did everything in your power to help her.” Kerris ignored the assault he was on her senses, tightening her fingers around his. “All we can do is—”

“Were you gonna say pray?” The question was soft and serious.

“I was gonna say hope.” She lowered her lashes to cover the shadows of unanswered prayers her eyes harbored. “But you can pray if you want.”

“That’s what my grandmother would have said we should do.”

“Oh, not the praying grandmother.” Kerris hoped her comment would distract him and lighten the sober mood.

“Don’t hate on MawMaw,” he said, lips twitching.

“MawMaw!” She didn’t even try to hold back her laugh. “Could you be more stereotypically Southern than having a praying grandmother named MawMaw? And let’s not forget that you brought me collard greens, macaroni and cheese, and fried chicken for dinner.”

“What are you saying?” He fake frowned, lips still twitching.

“That you try to front like you’re some big city boy—”

“I’m from New York.” His voice rose with citified indignation.

“I’m just saying—”

Jo walked toward them, looking pointedly at their still-clasped hands on Walsh’s leg. Kerris jerked her hand back and put a few more inches between them.

“I can hear you guys all the way down the hall.” Jo dropped her Yves Saint Laurent clutch on one of the seats. “I assume, based on the party I walked in on, that we’re celebrating? Iyani’s okay?”

Kerris and Walsh both sobered, exchanging worried glances. For those few moments they had forgotten why they were here, but it came rushing back with emotional force. Walsh shook his head, standing to his feet and resuming his pacing.

“Not yet.” A frown settled on his forehead.

“Here comes the doctor.” Kerris fought back her anxiety and kept her tone hopeful.

“Dr. Myer, how’s Iyani?” Walsh turned to the physician, who was pulling his surgical mask down. “Did the surgery go okay?”

“Is she gonna be all right?” Kerris stepped toward the doctor, too. “When can we see her?”

“Give the man some space.” Jo placed a restraining hand on Walsh’s arm.

“It’s okay.” Dr. Myer tugged at the mask hanging around his neck. “Iyani came through just fine.”

“Thank God.” Walsh reached for Kerris’s hand, gripping it tightly.

Kerris collapsed against his side, turning her head into the strength of his arm, limp with relief. Walsh brushed a gentle hand over her disheveled hair, long loosened from the elastic bands she’d started the day with. Kerris felt Jo’s eyes resting on them, but was too elated to care.

“You have to understand how very delicate this surgery is.” Dr. Myer measured his words into a recipe of warning. “This is the second aggressive growth removed from Iyani’s brain. The fact that she survived the first time was a miracle. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

Kerris drew a relieved breath, letting the doctor’s words float over her head. The surgery had only removed many of the tumor cells, but some cells remained inoperable. Radiation and chemotherapy were the next step. The doctor felt confident those could be administered in Kenya. Going home was going to be the best medicine for the homesick little girl.

“She’s still recovering, and will be out of it for a while,” Dr. Myer said. “I suggest you two get a few hours out of here, grab some dinner, get some rest, and come back a little later.”

Kerris figured her face looked as implacable as Walsh’s. Dr. Myer obviously wasn’t going to convince either of them to leave until they had seen Iyani. The doctor looked to Jo for help.

“Here’s a compromise,” Jo said. “I’ll go grab something for you guys to eat, and bring it here. That’ll be better than hospital food, but you can still be here to see Iyani as soon as possible.”

They both nodded, looking at each other to share a slow smile. Iyani was going to be okay. They seemed to release the breath they’d been holding together all day.

“Thank you for staying.” Walsh gave her hand a quick squeeze.

“Are you kidding? I can’t wait to see her.”

Hours later, Iyani was still groggy, but seemed almost surprised to be alive.

“Am I in heaven?” Her eyes slitted open. Anesthesia thickened her accent.

“Not yet, sweetie.” Relief threaded Walsh’s laugh. “You can’t get rid of us that easy.”

A weak smile was Iyani’s only answer before drifting back into a drug-induced slumber. Walsh stood by the bed, almost afraid to move. He felt like he’d been through battle, emotionally battered and worn down. He couldn’t have gotten through the ordeal of waiting without Kerris. He was about to tell her that when Cam walked in. He saw Cam before Kerris did, since he approached from behind her. Cam’s expression lightened at the sight of her. Walsh hoped he hid more than Cam, or else the whole world would know of his deepening feelings for the woman who had gone into battle with him today.

“Hey, babe.” Cam looped his arms around her waist from behind.

“Hi.” Kerris turned in the circle of Cam’s arms and gave him a smile that invited him into their joy. “Iyani’s gonna be okay. She came through fine.”

Kerris was leaning against Cam with obvious fatigue. Guilt stabbed Walsh in the gut. He knew she still cleaned houses with Meredith, and was working all hours of the day to ensure Déjà Vu was ready by the end of August. Iyani was his responsibility, not hers.

“Cam, why don’t you take your girl on home?” Walsh already missed having her to himself. “She’s exhausted.”

“Yeah, baby.” Cam ran a gentle thumb over the shadows under Kerris’s eyes. “Let me take you home.”

“No, I want to be here when Iyani wakes up again.” Walsh ignored the look Kerris shot his way, rich with confusion and accusation.

“Walsh and Cam are right, Kerris,” Jo said from one of the chairs by the hospital bed. “You should let Cam take you home. You’ve been here all day.”

“So have you, Walsh.” Kerris narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’ll be leaving soon, too,” Walsh lied, planning to charm the floor nurse into letting him crash in the chair here in Iyani’s room. “Go on home. Come back tomorrow.”

Walsh turned away, walking over to the window to adjust the blinds. He hoped she’d take the hint and go. He was not above begging her to stay if she kept biting that bottom lip, looking torn.

“All right.” Her mouth conceded, but Walsh could still feel the rebellion of her eyes hurling darts at his back. “You can take me home, Cam, but I want to know if there’s any change. Okay, Walsh?”

He nodded without turning from the window, studying the suddenly fascinating parking lot.

“I’m gone then.” He knew she was giving him one more chance to offer any other response. He nodded, stuffing his fist into the pocket of his jeans.

“See you tomorrow.” He freed his voice of inflection, leaving it flat and disinterested. “I’ll be fine.”

A lie, of course.

He was getting good at those.

K
erris almost danced off the elevator and down the hospital corridor in her lemon-colored sundress, short, fitted denim jacket, and worn cowboy boots.

“Morning, Dr. Myer,” Kerris greeted the tall, fair-haired physician who rounded the corner with head bent and hands buried in the pockets of his lab jacket. “I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to thank you again for all you’ve done for Iyani.”

“Kerris—”

“No, really.” Kerris rushed the words, excited and steadily plodding her way to Iyani’s room, in step with the doctor. “I know I’m not family or anything, but she’s special to me. And we were so worried that something would go wrong during surgery.”

“Well, if you remember, Kerris, the time after surgery was just as crucial,” Dr. Myer said, his eyes just shy of meeting hers.

“Yes, but she got through that, too.” Kerris refused to entertain any negative possibilities. For once things were working out as they should. “I know she’s anxious to get back home, but I’ll miss her. Selfish of me, huh? If you feel confident, though, that radiation and chemotherapy will be fine administered in Kenya, who am I to—”

“Kerris.” Dr. Myer’s tension-filled voice sliced into her cheerful chatter like a serrated knife. “I don’t know a better way to tell you this than just to say it.”

“Say…say what?”

Kerris’s smile wobbled. The doctor’s eyes softened, but Kerris didn’t like the straight line he disciplined his mouth into.

“Iyani died about an hour ago.”

“No. No, but…what happened? I just saw her yesterday. She was fine.”

The world stopped making sense. Pain sank its fangs into her fast-beating heart. She felt it physically and clutched the soft denim jacket covering her chest. Tears burned behind her lids and stung her nose.

“Her brain began hemorrhaging this morning. It was an unavoidable complication. We couldn’t save her. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, I…I…thought…”

Kerris didn’t know what to say, to do. She only knew what she felt, and it was an oppressive grief for a young warrior angel she had known for only a few weeks, but who had left an indelible imprint on her heart.

“I suppose Walsh has been notified.” She spoke into the silence Dr. Myer was affording her to process the news.

“Yes, I believe he’s in her room now. As you can imagine, he’s having a pretty tough time with it.” The doctor’s eyes drifted to the left and then to the right and then down to his watch. “I’m sorry, Kerris, but I have a patient waiting.”

Kerris brushed past him, heading toward Iyani’s room. She watched Walsh for a moment from the doorway. He’d settled his leanly muscled length in the middle of Iyani’s bed, long legs pulled into a loose lotus position, forearms resting on his knees. She crossed to him without thought, slowing her steps the closer she got, until she was standing directly in front of him sitting on the bed.

“Walsh, I’m so sorry.”

For a moment he didn’t acknowledge her presence, but continued to stare down at his fist, clenched around Iyani’s bracelet. She covered his hand with her own.

“Just in case.” The heavy fist of grief flattened his voice.

“I’m so sorry.” Saying it again didn’t help, but she couldn’t hold back the useless words.

“I just,” he started and stopped, a muscle flexing in his jaw before he continued. “I just don’t get it. She came through the surgery fine.”

“I know.” Kerris reached up to stroke the back of his head.

“I ended up spending the night, sleeping in the chair. I went downstairs to grab a muffin and some coffee. I was gone for only a minute, and when I came back in the room, all hell had broken loose.” His brows snapped together. “And they said…they said…”

“Oh, Walsh.” Tears soaked her words. She leaned forward to hug him awkwardly, the edge of the bed separating them.

He pulled her closer, forcing her to climb onto the edge of the bed on her knees. She pulled his head into the crook of her neck. His tears wet the shoulder of her denim jacket and her own tears trekked down her cheeks. She wanted to tear down the childish drawings on the walls. To pop the cheery balloons floating above them. To knock over the vases holding flowers from those who’d been pulling for Iyani. Instead, she just rocked back and forth as Walsh held her, for how long she didn’t know. His tears stopped, but she knew he was drawing as much solace from her as she was from the warm surrounding strength of his arms.

“Are you okay?” She finally drew back just enough to see his face.

Even though he sat in the center of the bed, legs crossed, and she was on her knees in front of him, his superior height left her only a few inches above him. Her arms hung loosely over the muscles of his broad shoulders. She stroked the closely cropped waves at the back of his head, soft and cool beneath her fingers. He dropped a thick fan of lashes over his grief-darkened eyes and lowered his forehead to her shoulder, turning into her neck. He inhaled.

“Vanilla.” His warm breath misted her neck with that one word, inciting goose bumps across the skin. “You always smell like vanilla.”

Her smile shook, and she started to pull away, but his hands tightened on her waist. He leaned up, tilting his head and brushing his firm lips across her slightly open mouth. At the brief contact, liquid fire rushed down her nerve endings. His kiss was a feather and a flame, raising goose bumps and heating her skin. Something blossomed in her chest, unfurling and straining toward him. She pressed closer, defenseless against sensations she’d never experienced with anyone before. One of Walsh’s strong hands left her waist, reaching for her chin to bring her face closer. The velvet of his tongue traced the still-drying tears on her cheeks before returning to her mouth, now clamped closed against the temptation of his.

“Open.” Walsh gave the gentle command. An intimate invitation. An irresistible dare.

Sanity was a fugitive on the run from reason. Her mouth fell open. He wasted no time, plunging in to plunder, devouring her with unchecked hunger. He groaned, sending the hand at her waist on an expedition across the curve of her hip to grip the firm sleekness of the bare thigh beneath her dress.

“Kerris.” His voice seemed to have fallen octaves, its deep timbre inspiring her to shudder. “Tell me to stop.”

“Stop.” Her hands made a lie of the weak plea. She pressed them to the strong vein in his neck. Urging him to continue. Pulling him closer.

“Not very convincing,” he whispered, pulling her head down to hover over his open lips, luring her to close the space between their mouths.

Heat crawled up between them, their lips and tongues tangling. Walsh reached up, fingers fumbling at the buttons of the denim jacket Kerris wore over her dress. The jacket fell open. Walsh reached one hand behind her to press the softness of her back, almost spanning the narrow expanse of it. His fingers slid under the spaghetti straps of the dress, caressing her shoulder, trailing down to stroke the soft curves beneath her dress. Her breasts tightened with a pleasure so acute it bordered on pain. Kerris gasped, pulling back abruptly. They both panted, his breath heavy and hot on her kiss-swollen lips, rising from the dying flame of that kiss.

Her passion-clouded eyes slowly cleared. Sanity made a belated reappearance.

“Oh, gosh.” She scooted back to put distance between them, and then slid off the bed altogether.

“Um, that was bad. It was…an accident.” Her hand covered the throbbing fullness of her mouth.

“It’s an accident when cars collide.” The remnants of desire hoarsened Walsh’s voice. “When lips collide it’s a kiss. That wasn’t an accident, and we need to talk about it.”

“No, we don’t.” She fumbled through rebuttoning her jacket, fingers shaking. She closed her eyes for a few erratic heartbeats, struggling to rein in her body’s response. She was a running engine slowly cooling down. “We have to forget that happened. It was…Iyani, and we were comforting each other, and the emotions got out of control and…misplaced.”

“Is that how you’ll explain it to Cam?”

“Cam!” Panic expelled the name from her mouth with the report of a bullet. “You absolutely
cannot
tell Cam. He wouldn’t understand.”

“I wouldn’t, either.” He stretched out one arm to pull her to him by the front of her jacket.

“No, Walsh.” The words stilled in her throat when she realized he was simply redoing the buttons she had misfastened in her clumsy rush. “Oh, thanks.”

“So, you don’t plan to tell Cam?” Walsh’s hand fell away, his mouth a straight and narrow line. His fist clenched on his knee, making his calm tone a lie. His eyes never strayed from her cowboy boots.

“No, and neither can you. Look at me.”

He met her eyes head on.

“Neither can you, Walsh.” That bore repeating. “Cam seems mild-mannered, but he’s so…”

“Possessive?” He paired the word with a frown.

“I guess, but most of all because it would hurt him unnecessarily. You have to see that.”

“Do I?” A skeptical brow lifted. “I don’t think that’s the right way to handle it. I think we should be honest with Cam and with ourselves.”

“What do you mean by ‘with ourselves’?”

“Kerris, I can’t promise it won’t happen again.” His voice was sandpaper. Rough. Abrasive. “This is serious. Cam’s asked you to marry him.”

“And you don’t think I should? Is that it? Am I not good enough for Cam?”

“What?” A storm cloud gathered on his face. “I never said that. I don’t
think
that. Don’t try to smokescreen me by putting words in my mouth. If you marry Cam, and this doesn’t go away…”

“What doesn’t go away?” She directed the soft words to her boots, unable to meet his still-steaming eyes.

He lifted her chin with one thumb, caressing the line of her jaw with his index finger.

“Kerris, can you deny there’s something between us?”

“An attraction?”

“Okay, if that’s what you want to call it, yeah. An attraction.”

“Walsh, you’re an attractive guy. These were difficult, emotional circumstances, and we got carried away.”

“I don’t know. I just…”

“Do you love Cam?” she asked, stowing her emotions behind an impassive face. Walsh’s friendship with Cam was her trump card. Maybe her
only
card.

“Of course. You know he’s the brother I never had.”

“Do you want to put a strain on that relationship over a kiss that meant nothing?” She poured all her nervousness into the fingers plucking at her dress, but kept her face placid.

“Nothing?” His narrowed eyes locked on hers. “You’re telling me what just happened meant nothing to you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” She nodded vigorously, one long braid slithering over her shoulder.

“Then you’re right. There’s nothing to tell.”

“Great.”

“Right.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“All right.” She shifted her weight from one boot to the other. “I’m gonna go then.”

She headed toward the door, stopping at the sight of Iyani’s brightly colored papers taped to the wall by the light switch. She had drawn herself between Kerris and Walsh, holding their hands. Kerris looked back over her shoulder at Walsh. He sat in the same spot on the bed. He had pulled the leather bracelet onto his strong wrist and was tracing the wooden blocks spelling Iyani’s name. She pressed her lips together to stem the trembling, swiping at the one hot tear that streaked down her face.

“I really am so sorry, Walsh.” She blinked back fresh tears. “About Iyani, I mean.”

Kerris wasn’t sure if he didn’t hear or ignored her, but he didn’t lift his eyes again. She didn’t know if that kiss had begun one thing or destroyed another. The attraction between them, an undercurrent all summer, had broken the surface with violence and heat. She’d never forget the feeling that exploded inside of her, his touch tripping an invisible wire only he had discovered. Those sensations had been hidden treasures in her own body, and her insides still hummed and buzzed. No matter how good it felt, what happened could never happen again. Should never have happened at all.