WENDY AWOKE EARLY the next morning and found the bed beside her empty, except for a note from Tom that he’d gone out for his morning jog and would see her soon. Just as well, she supposed, since she really needed a bit of time herself to regroup after last night.
Being with Tom again had been good. Maybe too good.
Ugh. She flopped back into her pillow and covered her eyes with her arm. Bad enough she’d let things get this far. Normally, she would’ve been long gone after the first night they’d spent together in her apartment, spurned his continued advances and gotten on with her lonely, boring life. Except she couldn’t now, and not just because she’d agreed to help him with Sam either.
Of course, that commitment was a big part of it. She loved the kid too, no two ways about it. They had so much in common and she saw so much of herself in young Sam that it was like looking in a mirror sometimes. But that love came at a price, namely that she was losing her battered heart to Tom and it scared the hell out of her.
Resigned, she got up and padded to the bathroom to get ready. After a shower and tugging on clothes, she automatically reached into her makeup kit and pulled out her birth-control pill pack. Punched out the day’s pill, then froze. Blinked and counted then blinked again.
Recounted.
Damn. She’d missed one. In twelve years, that had never, ever happened.
She took a deep breath. Exhaled. Inhaled again.
Okay, fine. No big deal. People messed up their birth control all the time. One pill shouldn’t be the end of the world. These past few weeks had been more hectic than usual and having Tom in her life had disrupted her normal routine and she’d forgotten one stinking pill. She counted back to find it had been that Tuesday when he’d come over to her apartment to talk about the decorating plans. The first time they’d spent the night together...
Damn. Damn. Damn.
Pulse racing and hands shaking, Wendy swallowed down that day’s dose then shoved the pink plastic pack back into her overnight bag before heading out to the kitchen in a fog.
They’d used condoms too, so the chances of pregnancy were extremely small.
But how could she have been so stupid? She never forgot her pills.
Because her feelings for Tom were a distraction.
A hollow hole formed in the pit of her stomach. Knowing the truth nearly paralyzed her.
Breathe, just breathe.
Wendy forced herself to focus. Yes, okay. Despite all her barriers and safeguards she’d gone ahead and fallen for the guy. Didn’t mean she had to change her plans. She didn’t have to tell him. Not until she had time to adjust to the idea. For now, she’d help Tom with Sam’s new room, get as much finished as she could today, then head home. Originally, she’d planned to stay until Monday, but her nerves were on edge now and her composure was shot.
She got the coffee maker ready then pushed the button to start it. Her phone buzzed from the charging pad where Tom had put it for her last night, right beside his. Wendy turned it over to see her sister-in-law’s number on the caller ID. She pushed the answer button.
“Hello?” Aiyana said. A baby screamed into the phone. “Wendy?”
“Hi. Everything okay over there?”
Burp! A belch worthy of a trucker came through the phone line.
“Oh, thank God!” Aiyana exclaimed. “That feels better.”
“Was that you or the baby?”
“That was Kate. And now at least one of them is happy. Whew.”
Wendy gave a tremulous smile, glad for the humor and a bit of stress relief. “I still can’t believe you named them after royalty. William and Kate. Or that you now measure your life in burps.”
“Also, milk letdowns and naps and puke-covered shoulders. Glamorous, right?”
Tears stung Wendy’s eyes. All of that sounded pretty wonderful actually.
“How’s Tom?” Aiyana asked.
“Fine,” Wendy said, a little too quickly.
Her sister-in-law paused a moment. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” She scowled. No way would she tell her sister-in-law about her birth control screwup or the fact she was in love. “I’m thinking maybe Tom and I should slow down a bit. Put some breathing space between us.”
“But he’s perfect for you!”
“He’s not perfect for me. You don’t even know him. Besides, he’s a perfectionist and he’s a single dad and—”
“And you’re scared, aren’t you? You always do this, Wendy. Why?”
“C’mon. It’s Saturday and way too early for a lecture.”
“Too bad.”
The coffee maker beeped, and Wendy fixed herself a mug then sat on the comfy oversize sofa in the living room. “Look, I know it’s only been a few weeks, but a lot has happened. Don’t judge me.”
“Then stop making excuses,” her sister-in-law countered. “Please, Wendy. Live your life. Make the best of what you have.”
“Stop.” Wendy squeezed her eyes shut, letting her head flop back against the cushions. She rubbed her eyes, feeling exhausted despite having just gotten out of bed. “This whole thing is really hard.”
“Does he know about the Huntington’s?”
“He does.”
“And he’s still around.” Her sister-in-law’s smile came through in her tone. “Good man.”
The knots in Wendy’s gut tightened. “Tom is a really good guy, which is exactly why I should let him go. It’s too risky. I’ll only hurt him and his daughter more the longer I’m around.”
A sigh echoed through the phone line. “Sweetie, I know you’re terrified, but that’s no reason to give up on what could be the best thing in your life.”
“Maybe it is, though.” Wendy scowled. “I’m not sure anymore.”
“You have to find a way to push past it.” Aiyana spoke slowly, her tone resigned. “Please don’t use the possibility of HD to keep yourself from real love.”
Damn. Her sister-in-law was right, even if Wendy was loath to admit it.
“We’re redecorating his daughter’s room this weekend while she’s away. It’s a surprise.”
“You’re staying at his place?”
The nervous tension inside Wendy pulled tighter. “Yes.”
Another loud wail echoed through the phone line.
“Shoot. William’s up again. Gotta go,” Aiyana said. “We’ll talk on Monday.”
“Okay. I’ll—”
Click.
Wendy groaned, letting the phone plop down on the sofa.
Not long afterward, the sound of a key grated in the front door lock. Wendy cracked her eyes open to see Tom, sweaty and carrying a take-out bag in one hand.
“Hey, you’re up.” He walked over to the breakfast bar. “I stopped and picked up food on the way home.” He headed over to the sofa and bent to kiss her. “Let me shower and then we can eat.”
She watched him disappear down the hallway toward the bedroom, her chest aching.
The sound of running water echoed from the rear of the apartment and Wendy pushed to her feet. Might as well make herself useful. She pulled the food from the bags then set out plates, silverware and napkins. Heavenly smells of roasted veggies and melted cheese wafted in the air. All this worrying had made her hungry. She started to peel open one of the foil wrappers to see what was inside, then yanked her hand away as Tom reentered the kitchen, dressed in a fresh white T-shirt and jeans, his hair still damp and his feet bare.
“Spinach, feta and egg white on whole wheat wraps.” He gave her a quick hug. “Hope you like them.”
“I’m sure I will.” She settled on a stool and Tom pressed in close behind her, his hands on her hips and his mouth near her ear.
“How about a proper good-morning?” he whispered, his warm breath making her shiver.
She wanted to kiss him. Man, did she. But the things she was grappling with inside her head were difficult enough, so she took a big bite of breakfast burrito instead. “Super-hungry.”
“Hmm.” Tom kissed her temple then took a seat beside her, unwrapping his breakfast.
They ate in silence for several minutes.
Speaking of being hungry, Wendy stared at her plate and willed away the images of them entwined together last night. Ugh. Those things wouldn’t help her stick with her plan to bail early on this weekend. She shoved the rest of the delicious burrito into her mouth then stood to take her plate to the sink. After swallowing, she said, “Lots to do today. I’ll meet you in Sam’s bedroom.”
She didn’t wait for an answer, just hurried down the hall and got busy with a screwdriver, removing one of the two electrical outlet covers on the wall they’d be painting. Soon she sensed Tom’s presence behind her, felt her body respond to him. Softening. Weakening. Accepting.
And while her rational self knew part of it had to be the intimacy of being here alone together in his apartment, she’d still been effectively and thoroughly seduced by his sweet words and loving touches. Mind and body. Heart and soul.
So much so that if she didn’t skedaddle after they finished Sam’s room today, she feared she wouldn’t escape this weekend without irreparable damage to her heart. In fact, it was probably already too late.
“Did you learn your handyman skills from your dad and brothers too?” he asked.
She glanced back at him, happy to chat about her family and not think about the awkward conversation ahead. “Yep. I can also do roofing, plumbing and rebuild an engine in ten minutes flat.”
She moved on to the next outlet, desperate to keep busy.
Tom got to work taping off the seam of an abutting wall. “Maybe I should call you by a superhero name instead of Wendy.”
“Maybe you should.” She gave him a quick wink. “I’ve been on my own a long time. Girl’s got to take care of herself.”
“What if you didn’t, though,” he said, not looking at her. “Have to be on your own, I mean. What if you had someone to help take care of you?”
She gathered up the outlet covers and screws, carried them to the closet, her hand shaking as she set them on top of a box, then picked up the other roll of painter’s tape and moved a stepladder over to the wall before climbing to the top step. “I like not having to rely on anyone else.”
He frowned. “You could, though. You could rely on me.”
Truthfully, she’d love to have Tom to lean on, to confide in, to have and to hold. But it wasn’t to be. She couldn’t let it be. It wasn’t fair to him or Sam. She’d applied about six inches of tape when Tom clamped his hands around her waist. She stopped, her heart tripping, and tilted her head down. “What are you doing?”
He looked up at her, gaze narrowed. “Figured this was easier than telling you to get down and let me do the ceiling.”
“Probably.”
“So I’m doing the next best thing by making sure you don’t fall.”
Wendy resumed her work, resorting to being snarky to cover the ache of affection in her chest. “You mean you’re taking the opportunity to ogle my butt.”
“Such a fine butt,” he said with a satisfying amount of appreciation. “But I also meant what I said. I’m here for you, Wendy. Whenever and however you need me.”
“Thanks.” The word rasped out of her dry throat. She hated feeling trapped and right now everything seemed to be closing in rapidly around her. She quickly spread another foot or so of tape then climbed down to shift the stepladder. Tom kept his hands on her waist until she reached the floor. She stepped back and held the tape out to him. “If you want to do the ceiling, go ahead.”
He smiled. “On further consideration, I’d rather be in charge of safety.”
Rather than enjoy this flirty side of him far more than she should, Wendy moved the ladder and climbed back up to finish the job.
When she was done, Tom said, “Tell me more about your mom.”
A topic she had no interest in discussing right now. “Why don’t you turn on the radio instead? I like everything but rap.”
“You still don’t want to talk about her.”
“Why the sudden interest?” She did her best not to sound defensive and failed, given his frown.
“Because I care about you, Wendy. A lot.”
His confession swept the ground out from beneath her feet, leaving her in emotional free fall. Her elation over the fact he cared for her was quickly drowned by panic. Instead of being brave, she resorted to her old standby, avoidance. “Uh, how about those Anoraks? Think they’ll make the playoffs this year? With Bobby Templeton back up to speed, they look pretty unbeatable.”
“I’m trying to have a meaningful conversation here, Wendy,” he said, his tone flat. “You know, the type consenting adults have when they care for one another.”
“What’s wrong with hockey?”
“Nothing’s wrong with hockey. But I’d much rather know your feelings toward me.”
Gah! The last thing she needed was for Tom to know how much she cared for him too. She couldn’t tell him. Not until she’d made peace with it herself. It would only make it harder to go.
He’d stopped working and stood staring at her, his expression serious.
She sighed, grabbing a drop cloth to protect the floor, skirting the topic entirely once again by going back to his earlier question. “My mom was great. Funny, awesome in a crisis, and loved reading. She was my best friend, my confidante, my champion. Then she died, slowly and painfully. My dad and brothers did the best they could to raise me.”
They’d done far more than their best. They were everything to her. Family was one of the most important tenets of Iñupiat life. And while she wasn’t necessarily that tuned into her heritage in her daily life, she still kept that part alive and well. Seeing Tom and Sam grow closer together over the past few weeks had only reminded her how much she yearned for a family of her own. She turned away, blinking back tears. Crying wouldn’t help. Her life was currently a big mess and she needed to clean it up. Starting with reinforcing those barriers around her heart before they crumbled completely, and it was too late.
Tom felt like an idiot. He hadn’t meant to blurt out his feelings, but he wanted her to know she was important to him, that this wasn’t just some fling, not in his eyes. Things had changed for him. He’d hoped they’d changed for her too.
Maybe this was a sign. Maybe his controlling tendencies were getting out of hand again. He’d known that bringing up the possibility of a long-term relationship with Wendy was risky, but damn. He was done avoiding the truth. Tom was ready to face facts.
Keeping his distance had been his plan, yet here he was, knee-deep in whatever this was with Wendy, and it felt like the tide was rising faster and faster. Her disease was a touchy subject for her. He got that. So were relationships, commitment. God knew, there were things he didn’t like discussing either, but part of living meant dealing with things, so you could move on.
Frustrated, he rearranged the stack of tarps behind him.
He turned back to find Wendy on her hands and knees, taping the edge of a drop cloth to the floor. His chest squeezed tight. He loved Wendy. Deeply. Truly. And, yes, he wanted her. So badly it hurt. But he couldn’t do this again. Not if she refused to be open and honest about her life and her disease. Yes, she was scared, but he had more than himself to think of now.
Sam had been through enough already with the death of her mother. He wouldn’t put her through losing Wendy too. Dammit. If things weren’t going to work out between them, he needed to know now, one way or another. That way they could make a clean break before Sam got back. And, yeah, maybe he was trying to control things again, trying to fit Wendy inside one of his neat little boxes when all she wanted was to be free.
Best to find out now. The longer he waited, the harder it would be.
Tom cleared his throat and forced himself to get back to work, taping a drop cloth into the corner. Wendy was beautiful, confident, smart, helpful, caring, fun, sexy, hardworking, dedicated. In fact, Tom couldn’t think of one single thing he didn’t like about her.
Except the fact she could be dying...
He didn’t like that possibility at all.
Wendy pried off the lid of a paint can then turned it to face him. “Told you the shade was amazing. Sam’s going to be thrilled.”
“Spectacular,” he said, looking at her and not the color.
Without comment she poured the paint into a roller pan.
Tom gathered up his brushes, opened both windows and they started to work. But as time dragged on, his niggle of unease grew. She’d never answered him about her feelings.
The silence closed in and the pressure to share...something, anything, built until he couldn’t stand it any longer. “My mother went back to school to become a licensed clinical psychologist after I graduated med school,” he said, concentrating on each thick, pink stroke. “I’m proud of her for doing it.” He bent to get more paint on his brush. “Nothing like having your mom analyze your sex life at family dinners. Dad takes it all in his stride, of course. Retired Air Force guy. He’s seen it all and wasn’t impressed.”
“They sound nice.”
His parents were amazing, but anxiety was clawing inside him, urging him to get things settled here once and for all. Once Sam came home they’d be back to their regular schedules, their regular lives. Unless she allowed herself to open up with him, to be vulnerable like he was trying so hard to be with her, then those lives would have to be separate. They’d see each other at work. Wendy and Sam would still have their chats. His daughter would continue to volunteer in the Family Lounge in the ER, but it would be different.
There’d be no “them.”
He wanted far more from Wendy than a fling, but he couldn’t force her to get her test results or admit her feelings for him, just like he hadn’t been able to force Nikki to stay in contact with him about their daughter or stop taking the drugs that had eventually killed her. Nope. It was Wendy’s decision whether to get her results and all he could do was support her either way. It wasn’t about him. And if she decided she didn’t want him around anymore? Well, then, he’d have to find a way to be okay with it. Things between him and Sam had improved, with Wendy’s help. They’d probably be okay now, even if his heart might not recover.
“Here’s some trivia for your inquisitive mind.” Wendy stopped painting and looked over at him. “When I was seven, my mom wanted to expose us to our cultural heritage, so she enrolled me and my brothers in Iñupiat language classes at the local library.”
“That’s cool. I’d love to learn your language someday.”
She gave him a pointed stare then turned away to continue working.
Tom kept his mouth shut after that.
By late afternoon, the pink wall was done, much quicker than he’d anticipated. They still had to let it dry before putting up the shelves and pictures and moving the furniture back into place, but the time had come for some serious talk and answers. He glanced at the clock. Six p.m. “Uh, want to take a walk before dinner?”
Wendy set her roller aside and wiped her hands on her scrub pants, her expression oddly somber. “A walk sounds great. The sunset should be beautiful tonight.”