Medical Romance July 2016 Books 1-6. Lynne Marshall
because I didn’t.” Nick rubbed the back of his neck and then leaned on the bar. “Your dad died that day, Liam.”
* * *
It was a week and two days since the wedding, Grace spent most of her evenings alone with wine and movies. Tonight she’d added her cell phone, and now sat replaying a voice mail over and over, with her thumb hovering over the delete button, unable to bring it down.
Liam’s bosses—the producers and whoever she’d spoken to on the phone about him—had called to offer her a job on their set.
High action, medieval, dragon-chasing fantasies could injure the actors and stunt crew just as effectively as thrillers and movies where the good guys fought the bad guys with high-speed chases and pyrotechnics.
Even though the phone call had felt like a job interview at the time, she really hadn’t expected anything to come from it. And she still didn’t know how to respond.
She wanted to say yes, and she wanted to scream at them to lose her number.
It was just a reminder of that door she’d left open for him. A door that any sane person would’ve closed by now.
She took another drink of her favorite sweet red wine and set the glass down, then pressed the button.
Delete.
The doorbell rang, and she continued to sit. Dealing with people didn’t sound like something she could do right now.
She got up and turned to her bedroom to get as far as she could from the door. After she got another glass of wine.
“Grace?” Her name shouted through the door reached her just as she was about to shut herself in her bedroom.
Her hand started to shake.
That was Liam’s voice. Liam was at her door.
The bottle felt heavy and awkward as she headed for the door, gripping the bottle with both hands lest she drop it.
Opening locks and latches with her hands full of wine bottle didn’t work. She bent and set the bottle on the floor. When she finally got the door open, the first thing she saw was his eyes.
Still dark blue. But hopeful. He’d shaved and the man’s trademark stubble was gone, leaving that broad, manly jaw completely bare.
She looked down at his feet next. Wrapped, but not in the splint.
And wearing nice dark gray slacks and a button-down shirt. No tie, and also no sexy lean or smoldering looks. This wasn’t Hollywood’s Beautiful Bad Boy. This was...not a booty call.
This was him trying to make a good impression.
Without saying a word, she focused on the various things in his hands.
A bouquet of daisies and roses in the crook of one arm.
A heart-shaped box of candy in the crook of the other.
And in each hand a ceramic figurine. A kitten in one hand and a puppy in the other.
Her words came back to her.
Her old rewind fantasies.
Quintessential boyfriend gifts because...he had relationship feelings.
One hand flew to cover the base of her throat and she held back a cry that wanted to collapse her chest.
Worry in his eyes, Liam stayed standing there in front of her, waiting in silence.
It took her a minute, but when she managed a full breath without whimpering Grace lowered her hand again and folded her arms across her ribs. She wouldn’t touch him. She wouldn’t throw herself at him. He’d shown up, and that was a lot, but he had to say some stuff too.
Her stomach had just tied itself in a knot, and she probably couldn’t even have moved from in front of the door if the apartment had been on fire.
Don’t say the wrong thing.
She nodded to his hands. “What’s all this?”
“It’s candy, flowers, a kitten and a puppy,” Liam said, not a hint of their usual flirtation in his tone. He looked nervous. And he sounded insane.
“The kitten and puppy were supposed to be real. And alive. Not ceramic.”
“I’m new to commitment, Gracie. I didn’t think I could handle taking on two animals if you told me to get lost so I went with figurines.” He nodded to the apartment, and then to his arms. “Can I come in? Or can you take the breakables?”
“Are you here to ask me to go steady?” Even as she said the joking words, her heart leaped at the idea. It was a beginning. And they’d come this far. If he took this first step, he wouldn’t turn back. Liam didn’t know how to quit.
“Yes. And anything else you’re willing to risk on me.”
She unfolded her arms and opened the door wide enough to reach for the flowers and candy, relieving him of the items perched most precariously on his arms.
“Did I have four arms in your rewind fantasies? Or a pet carrier with the animals in it?”
“It’s a lot to carry. I did say those fantasies were insane at the time.” She stepped back from the door and nodded to him and the floor. “Don’t kick the wine.”
Turning to the hall table, she set down what she’d taken from him and then looked back, waiting. Afraid to let her hopes get too high. Terrified because they were already soaring.
“I had a long talk with your brother,” Liam started. He stepped in and set the knickknacks down then closed the door.
“About me?”
Vulnerability, she saw it in his eyes. It was there in hers if he was looking closely enough, and he always looked closely. “And me.”
His hands rubbed together roughly. He seemed to realize what he was doing and stuffed them into his pockets instead. “And also why he didn’t tell me about your accident.”
It was something she’d wondered too, but hadn’t been able to bring herself to ask Nick yet. And right now it seemed very important for her to hear anything Liam wanted to bring up. Let him talk. At least as long as he had something to say he wouldn’t go. She could hear his voice. Watch his mouth forming words—any words. She could see that he’d nicked himself shaving before coming over.
“Why didn’t he tell you? Was it because he knew about...my trench-coat antics?”
He shook his head.
“He didn’t tell me when I called him, because it was the day my dad died.” The words came softly, but he made no move to hide the rawness in his voice. “And he knew I’d still drop everything and run to your family at Cedars. He said it was the last thing I needed to deal with.”
Grace nodded as she absorbed this. Nick had done what he’d thought was the kindest thing to do for Liam, and she might’ve made that same decision. He’d had no way of knowing what had been going on with them—she’d certainly never told anyone about the night she’d gone to his apartment. He’d probably only known they’d stopped talking about one another, if he was even perceptive enough to pick up on that at twenty. “That was probably the right thing to do.”
“No, it wasn’t,” Liam said, taking a step closer to her, close enough to touch her if he wanted to. Or for her to touch him if she was brave enough. “It was an attempt at kindness, he did it because he cared. But the truth is... Cedars would’ve been the best place for me. I tried to make a family with my father when I got old enough, but we were both too damaged to know how. And when that ended, the best thing I could’ve done would’ve been to go to my real family. The best thing for me, I mean. You all had a lot to deal with at the time. So I could’ve understood if he’d not told me because you all couldn’t deal with one more broken thing that day.”
She still didn’t