Chapter Nine
One week.
Seven days.
One hundred and sixty-eight hours.
Ten thousand and eighty minutes.
No matter how she said it, or how she looked at it, it had been a week since she fell asleep naked in Marks’s arms, and a week since she woke up in bed alone, again. A week since the last time he kissed her and whispered sweet words in her ear.
There was no warm inspirational note from him that time.
It bothered her that it mattered so much.
In all reality, she was surprised that she was still thinking about him so frigging much. She barely knew the guy. They’d had some amazing sex, sure, but that was it. They had nothing in common besides the fact that neither of them wanted to be with the other. And yet, she couldn’t stop thinking about him. And she…she…missed him. Ugh.
She’d tried throwing herself into her work to stop from thinking about him all the time, but since she was stuck behind a desk, that hadn’t been much of a distraction.
If anything, it only made it worse.
Lauren sat beside her at the bar, sliding a cosmo her way. “Here you go.”
“That’s not a Diet Coke,” she said, catching it automatically.
“I know. You seemed stressed, so I got this instead.” Lauren gestured to the matching drink in front of her. “I didn’t have cupcakes to offer you, so I settled for the next best thing.”
She would have preferred the cupcakes.
Daisy closed her hands around the stem of the glass, frowning down at the pink drink. After watching her father drown himself in alcohol after losing her mother, she wasn’t exactly a big drinker. That night with Mark had been an anomaly, her being in a bar and all. And it had been a hotel bar, not even a real one. Staring down at the pink, frothy drink, all she could think about was Mark that night. His laugh. His mouth on hers. His fingers brushing over her skin.
This wasn’t fair.
None of this was fair.
He was probably living his life, perfectly content without her in it, and she was mooning over a man she didn’t even want to be with. “I’m not stressed,” Daisy said a defensively.
“Sure you’re not.” Lauren sipped her cosmo, licking her lips. “I can see why you drank this the other night and got freaky in the hotel with some dude. This is good.”
“Yeah.” Daisy still didn’t touch hers, or that topic. Lauren had been prodding her for more information, but she’d been carefully avoiding the probing questions. “How’s Steven doing?”
“Good. He’s been busy with work, though.” She took another sip of her cosmo, frowning at the clock. “He’s on a project that’s had him out at all hours of the night, but they just finished up, and he said he can meet us here in ten minutes for dinner. Thank God.”
Daisy traced the rim of her glass, not taking a drink. “Let me guess. As soon as that last fry touches his lips, you’re out?”
“Yep. Maybe before.” Lauren grinned. “And I don’t even feel bad about it. It’s been too freaking long since I got some sugar.”
Daisy rolled her eyes. “Nice. Ditch your best girl in a bar.”
“It’s an Applebees in suburban Maine. That doesn’t count.”
She had a point.
“What’s going on with you anyway?” Lauren asked, frowning at her. She placed her full attention on Daisy, which wasn’t a good thing. She’d missed her calling. She should have been a cop. “Ever since the wedding, and that night with that guy that you refuse to talk about, you’ve been quiet.”
She lifted a shoulder, avoiding her eyes. “I’ve been busy at work.”
“Still pushing papers?”
“Until this thing is off?” She lifted her cast, waving it under Lauren’s nose. “I don’t have a choice. I can’t chase down bad guys with a broken arm.”
“How much longer?”
“It comes off next Friday. I can’t frigging wait. It hasn’t even hurt for, like, two weeks. I think they left it on so long just to mess with me.” She dropped her good hand to her lap, not touching her drink. “I’ve had enough of sitting behind a desk to last me a lifetime.”
“Is it really so bad?”
Daisy frowned down at her untouched drink. She’d joined the police force as a way to save people from the same fate she’d suffered. Her mother had been shot during a mugging, over fifty dollars she’d had in her wallet. That’s what her mother’s life had been worth to that man who pulled a gun on her and demanded her purse.
Fifty. Frigging. Dollars.
At her mother’s funeral, as she held her sobbing father’s hand at the graveside, with the scent of freshly dug dirt and fresh roses intermingling with the spring rain falling from the gray clouds overhead, Daisy had sworn to become a cop. To find the men who did this type of thing, and put them behind bars, so no one else’s lives were ruined like hers and her father’s had been.
She’d been ten.
That determination had never faded.
So, yes, it was that bad to sit behind a desk, watching crimes happen that she couldn’t help solve. “Yes,” she said simply.
Lauren nodded, sympathy lighting up her eyes. “I get it.”
“I know you do.” She bumped her with her shoulder. “It’s why I love you.”
“One of the many reasons.”
“Of course.” She tapped the untouched cosmo in front of Daisy. “Drink that. I’m hoping to get deets from you about that night at the wedding if it hits you hard enough.”
Daisy laughed. “Yeah. Not happening.”
“You swearing off booze now? Scared you’ll find another hot stranger and do dirty, dirty things to him?”
Daisy shrugged. “You know I’ve never been big on drinking.”
“Having a drink occasionally doesn’t make you an alcoholic.” Lauren hesitated. “And it doesn’t make you your father.”
“Are you sure about that?” That night at the hotel, she’d been drinking to forget. That’s what her father did, too. He just did it every night. “Because it doesn’t feel any different.”
“I’m sure,” Lauren said, covering her hand with hers. “You’re allowed to drink every once in a while, Daisy. There’s nothing wrong with moderation.”
Yeah, and look what had happened when she drank.
She slept with a man she didn’t know…
Or thought she didn’t know, anyway.
Lauren rested a hand on her shoulder, squeezing. “I’ve never met him, but you’re not your father. Steven was like him, when we first slept together. But now…” She trailed off, smiling. “Now he’s not.”
“Because of you,” Daisy said softly, knowing it was true even if Lauren didn’t.
“No. Because deep down, he’s a good guy. Just like you’re a good woman, who won’t lose herself because she had one drink.”
Was Mark a good guy, too?
It didn’t matter if he was or wasn’t. She wasn’t interested in dating a vet…not even if the vet was Mark. Heck, especially not then. He was too…too…
Too much.
He could keep on working at the Shillings Agency, and she’d keep on doing her thing at the precinct. Separately.
“He’s here,” Lauren said, brightening like a lightbulb as she waved him over to join them. “Looks like he’s not alone.”
Probably Holt. They were attached at the hip almost as much as Holt and Lydia were. “Is Lydia with them, too?”
“No. It’s not Holt. It’s…oh, crap.” Lauren shot her a look. “Before you freak out, this wasn’t me, I swear it. I didn’t know he was coming.”
“Didn’t know…who…?” Oh God. Oh no. Please, no. Please. Anyone but him. She turned slowly, dread creeping up her spine to settle in a tight ball in her throat, choking her. Sure enough, Mark stood beside Steven, talking and laughing as he shrugged out of his suit jacket. He hadn’t noticed her yet…at least, she assumed he hadn’t, because he was still smiling. “I have to go.”
She stood, fully intending to slide out before she was seen, but Mark chose that moment to look her way—and he froze, the smile he’d been wearing became plastic and brittle. His gaze dipped down her body, and by the time his eyes met hers, she felt like she was on fire.
Literal. Flames. Of. Fire.
And he was a bucket of ice cold water.
I need some frigging water.
Turning, she picked up her cosmo and took a big sip before she remembered it wasn’t water. Choking, she set it back down with a clang on the bar. Cheeks hot, she turned back to him and checked to see if he saw her big failure. His lips twitched with amusement.
Yep. He totally saw it.
Even from across the room she could see his chin dimple, and her fingers itched to touch it, to press her thumb into that stupid little hole in his chin, rise on tiptoe, and kiss him. His blond hair was swept to the side, and he had a sexy five-o’clock shadow going. Had he been stuck working late at the agency like Steven? It made her wonder who took care of his daughter when he was out late. Chances were he wasn’t a deadbeat dad like hers had been…
So someone had to be with the child now.
His mom? His sister? His nanny?
And what, exactly, did he do at the agency? Was he the type of agent that guarded clients, or did he work in IT, like Holt? She knew nothing about him besides the fact he was good in bed.
Really, really good.
Swallowing hard, she fanned her cheeks and forced her mind off him. Or, tried, anyway. And failed. No matter how much she wished otherwise, she recalled with picture perfect clarity how hard his body was under those black pants and blue dress shirt.
She wanted to latch on to his gray tie and yank him close until their lips met…
And nothing else mattered.
Certainly not the reasons why she shouldn’t.
“God, I’m thirsty,” she muttered.
Lauren stepped in front of her, blocking Mark from her line of sight. She didn’t know whether to hug her best friend, or push her aside so she could get another look. “Daisy, I’m sorry. Don’t go. I’ll tell Steven to get rid—”
“Hey, cupcake.” Steven came up behind her, throwing his arm over her shoulders, and kissing her temple affectionately. His red hair was as messed up as Mark’s was groomed. Mark stood to the left of the couple, carefully avoiding Daisy’s eyes. “What am I getting rid of for you?”
Lauren froze, looking like a deer in headlights. She’d never been a good liar, or at being put on the spot like that. “I…uh…”
“Nothing big,” Daisy said, forcing a smile. “We were talking about her old cupcakes at work, and she asked if I wanted some. I said no, so she’s just going to chuck them and wants your help doing it.”
Steven frowned. “Don’t throw them away. I’ll eat them. Or we can send some home with Mark for his little girl. Does she like cupcakes?”
Mark stood beside the couple, his hands shoved in his pockets. “What kid doesn’t?”
“See?” He offered Mark a tentative smile. It looked like a truce had been called. Maybe all they’d needed was some time working together closely to get over their differences. “Keep them. Mark wants them.”
Lauren glanced at Mark and bit her lip. “But—”
“Yeah. Keep them.” Daisy interrupted as she locked eyes with Lauren, her heart racing. “They’re fine exactly where they are.”
Mark cocked a brow. He knows exactly what we’re talking about…and it’s not cupcakes. “Glad that’s settled.”
Daisy frowned at him.
His brow inched higher. He gave her a cool smile, but his eyes…they were anything but cool. They were on fire. He looked like he was about to pick her up, toss her over his shoulder, and carry her away so he could do dirty, dirty things to her.
And I’m totally okay with that.
Lauren cleared her throat. “So. All done with the Masters project?”
“Yeah. We followed that old man around for a week. The most dangerous thing he did the whole time was drive his own car. Someone needs to take his license away.”
“Seriously,” Mark agreed, chuckling.
Don’t do that. It’s too sexy.
No laughing allowed.
Daisy wrapped her good arm around herself. “You’re both in security?”
“Yes, we both work at Shillings.”
“I know, but there’s different positions. Security. Analyst. Tech. Accounting.” Daisy cocked her head. “I know you don’t like dangerous jobs in your daughter’s life, so…?”
Mark stiffened, recognizing the blow for what it was—a cheap shot. She’d called him out where he couldn’t defend himself without drawing attention to how well acquainted they were. She wasn’t even sure why she did it. Maybe because he looked so…so…fine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m sure we never discussed it before.”
“Didn’t we? Could’ve sworn it came up at the wedding.”
He frowned, since she didn’t take his hint to knock it off. And she should have. She really should have. But something had gotten into her tonight, and there was no shaking it.
Their friends watched with wide eyes.
Mark glanced at them, then back at her with a frown. “Perhaps it did. Now that you mention it, I might recall this conversation. I’m not a big fan of dangerous jobs.”
“But isn’t your job dangerous?” she asked slowly, blinking innocently. “Couldn’t it, in theory, take you away from your daughter?”
Mark’s heated eyes turned frigid. “I’m not leaving my daughter any time soon, I assure you.”
“But danger is danger.” She smiled coolly. “What if something happens on the job?”
He smiled just as coldly. “What if a meteor falls out of the sky?”
“Unlikely,” she retorted. “Where’s your daughter now, while you’re out having dinner? Who is watching her? Do you have a nanny in your employ? Or is she tucked in bed, home alone, when you go out and enjoy a beer?”
Mark’s frown became a look of complete and utter anger. “I believe that’s none of your damn business, Ms. O’Rourke.”
Too far. She’d taken it too far.
Craaaaapppppp.
She could feel three sets of eyes on her, each more shocked than the last. But talking to Mark, being in his presence again, had thrown her off. He threw her off.
But that wasn’t any excuse for her behavior.
“I’m—” she started, until an elbow jammed into her ribs.
Lauren’s elbow, to be exact. She hissed, “Daisy.”
“I know.” She held her hands out innocently. “I’m—”
“It must be the cop in you,” said Mark, “needing to interrogate men you don’t know about their parenting habits.” He pressed his tongue against the inside of his mouth, doing his best to seem causal, but she could tell it was all an act. He looked seconds from killing her, telling her to go to hell, or kissing her. Maybe all three. “So I’ll humor you. My daughter is with my mother, if you must know. I’ve been working crazy hours, so we’ve been staying with her at her place all week long. That way I don’t have to wake her and drag her out of bed in the middle of the night, but I can still be with her. Speaking of beds—before you ask, yes, she has her own room there, with a princess canopy bed and a bunch of stuffed animals—including a duplicate of Mr. Bunny, her favorite animal, which she can’t sleep without. I promise you she’s well cared for when I’m gone, despite her lack of a mother. I do my damn best to make sure of that.”
Daisy didn’t say anything at first.
Just looked away, shame filling her.
Going through her own crap that she didn’t truly understand didn’t give her an excuse to rudely attack him like that. It was uncalled for. And… and… “I’m sure she is.”
“I take good care of my daughter,” Mark continued, his voice low as he stepped closer to her. Lauren and Steven stepped back, eyes wide, giving them privacy. “I put her needs above my own, always, denying myself something I want very much, and I will continue to do so until the day I die. She comes first. She always comes first. You, of all people, should know that.” His phone buzzed, and he glanced down. “Speaking of which, that’s a FaceTime from her now. I have to take this. If you’ll excuse me?”
Steven and Lauren nodded.
Daisy stood rooted to the spot, choking on her own guilt.
As she watched, he lifted the phone and said hello in a soft, fatherly voice. She caught a brief glimpse of his daughter’s face as he showed her the restaurant he was in, then he told her he was going outside so he could tell her a story in the quiet, and he was gone.
God, could he be any more perfect?
Daisy swallowed hard and glanced at her friends, who looked at her with disapproval. And she didn’t blame them one little bit. “I’m…I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
Steven shrugged. “We’re not the ones you should apologize to.”
“I know.” She grabbed her purse. “I’ll go wait for him to get off the phone, then apologize privately. I don’t know what came over me.”
Without waiting for them to reply, she walked off, following him outside. She pushed through the doors and heard him say, “And then they lived happily ever after.”
Swallowing hard, she hugged her purse to her chest and waited. He spotted her as he hung up, and shoved his phone into his pocket. His strides were angry as he made his away over, stopping directly in front of her. “What the hell was that?”
“I have no excuse. My dad was left in charge of me when my mom died, and he wasn’t… I just…” She swallowed hard. “It doesn’t matter what he did, or who he was. The truth of the matter is…I miss you. And seeing you like that threw me off. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
The line of his angry, hard jaw softened. “I miss you, too.”
“Don’t.” She darted a quick glance at Lauren and Steven, who watched them through the glass way too closely. “We don’t work. We both know it. So just…don’t.”
“I know,” Mark said gently, all traces of anger gone. “So. Dinner?”
Daisy draped her purse over her shoulder and took a step back. Mark’s eyes narrowed at the slight retreat, as if he knew what was coming and wasn’t happy about it. Something had happened that night at the hotel—he’d wormed his way past her defenses, and now she couldn’t shake him. But she had to try anyway, and not sharing a meal with him was the first step in that direction. “I have a headache, so I’m going to go. Enjoy your dinner.”
“Don’t go. Please.” Mark caught her hand. “I’ll go instead—”
“Just let me go, Mark.”
He dropped his hold on her immediately.
She took off for her car, not looking back.
If she looked back…
She wouldn’t leave.