can throw his dates in my face, I can throw mine in his. Even if mine are imaginary.
Gabriel looks stunned and then realization clouds his face as he remembers that he told me he had a date last night. He starts to say something, but I cut him off as I spin around and head for my house. With every step I feel his dark gaze hitting me between the shoulder blades.
I ignore it.
But one thing I can’t ignore is that everything about that man makes my knees weak. I can’t ignore the look in his eyes: that dark, dark look that says, Don’t worry. No one will hurt you on my watch. I can’t ignore the way one look from him sets my blood on fire.
And I can’t ignore the biggest thing of all, the heavy question that sits on my chest all the time, even though I’ve only just acknowledged it.
I know he has a secret that has the ability to turn him into everything that I’m afraid of.
The question is, are all the good things I know about him enough to make me see past it?
Chapter Ten
Work seems particularly monotonous today. I’ve placed next month’s food order, drunk four cups of coffee, and I have a caffeine buzz when I follow up with Jacey and make sure that she’s up in time to come to work.
She’s made a habit lately of coming home from the clubs in the early-morning hours, then oversleeping for work. That was one thing when we were teenagers, but we’re not kids anymore. It’s time to grow up.
“Yes,” Jacey sighs into the phone. “I’m up. I’m showered. I’ll be there shortly. You didn’t need to check on me. And what did you do to my brother this morning? He said he gave you a ride, but he was mean as hell when he came home.”
“Nothing. I just told him I couldn’t go out with him on Saturday.”
“God,” Jacey grumbles. “Why can’t you just hook up already? You know you both want to and you’ll both be happier when you do.”
I’m starting to think she’s right, but I don’t say that.
“Whatever. I’ll have your paycheck ready when you get here.”
“ ’K. I’ll be there soon.”
We hang up and I stare forlornly at the papers balanced precariously in stacks on my desk. I decide to take a quick break and run out to the dining room to stretch my legs. As I enter, Tony calls for me from the bar.
“Hey, Maddy. Your sister just called and wanted to know if you’d bring her out some soup on your way home. Pax is in Hartford for a week and she’s not feeling that well today. She really didn’t sound good. Maybe you should take it to her right now.”
I’m instantly concerned. Mila isn’t one to complain, not ever. She could be on her deathbed and she wouldn’t whine.
“Seriously?” I ask Tony as I lean against the bar. “What’s wrong with her, did she say? Is it morning sickness still or something else?”
He shakes his giant head. “She didn’t say. She just said she feels sicker than usual and that she’s going to stay in bed today.”
“Well, hell,” I mutter. “That’s not like her. I hope she doesn’t have the flu. If you box something up I’ll run it out to her right now.”
“Already done,” Tony grins, handing me a large carryout sack. “There are saltines in there too. They might settle her stomach.”
It’s not a problem to make a food run to my sister. Her house is only a few minutes away, perched on the edge of the bluffs by the lake. It was Pax’s before they got married and it’s a gorgeous home.
I knock on the door and when Mila finally answers it I’m even more concerned. Her face has a grayish pallor to it, her normally bright eyes dull, and she’s still in her nightgown.
“What the hell?” I exclaim as I follow her into the house. “What’s wrong with you? Is your morning sickness worse? That’s not normal, right? Shouldn’t you be over that by now?”
“I don’t know,” she groans. “I had the worst stomachache last night, so I was up all night long. I barely slept.”
I gently push her onto a barstool and begin unloading her lunch. “When did Pax leave?”
Mila drops her head onto her crossed arms. “Yesterday. Don’t tell him that I’m sick or he’ll come straight home. He’s got meetings with his grandpa this week.”
I stare at her uncertainly. “I don’t know, Mi. You look pretty bad.”
“That’s exactly why I don’t want him to come home, Madison. Have a heart. It’s just a stomach bug. He doesn’t need to be here, listening to me every time I’m in the bathroom. Seriously. How embarrassing.”
I sigh. “Fine. I won’t call him yet. But you’ve got to promise to get some rest. Is there anything else I can bring you?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. I’m just going to finish eating this and then curl up and sleep.”
“I’ll sit with you for a bit.”
Mila manages a smile. “You’re as overprotective as Pax is.”
I don’t even bother to answer, because I know she’s right.
“So, how’s life?” she asks quietly in between bites. “How was your date with Ethan?”
I roll my eyes. “That’s probably the last time I listen to your advice about my love life. It was dry, boring, vanilla… all the things that Ethan is.”
“Awww. Poor Ethan,” Mila answers sympathetically. “He can’t help it.”
“I know,” I answer ruefully. And I do.
“This soup is good,” Mila says, blowing on another spoonful as she changes the subject. “Can you tell Tony thank you for me?”
Mila sticks another bite in her mouth and, as she does, I hear the muted buzz of my cell phone in my purse. I slide it out and am startled to see the text message it displays.
This is Gabriel. I have to tell you something.
The mere sight of his name on my phone causes my pulse to race and I stare at it. This catches Mila’s attention and she pauses, watching me, interested now.
I answer, How did you get my number? Let’s start with that.
I grin and Mila raises an eyebrow.
“Who is it?” she asks curiously.
“No one,” I tell her. She rolls her eyes but returns to her soup, her forehead in her hand.
My phone buzzes.
From Jacey, obviously.
I answer, Jacey talks a lot.
It takes him one second to reply, Hell yes, she does.
I feel a little breathless as I type, What did you need to tell me?
There is a moment, and then, My date the other night was with Brand.
The amount of relief that floods my body as I read those words is incredible. I feel lighter than I have for days. But I can’t tell him that. Instead I say Is that supposed to matter to me?
Gabriel’s cockiness knows no bounds, because he answers without hesitation.
It matters to you.
I smile a little, because it does. But before I can answer, he sends a second text.
And it matters to me that I misled you about it. I’m sorry about that.
I pause, astonished by his apology. He doesn’t seem like someone who would readily apologize. He’s too self-assured, too commanding, like my father. And one thing I learned from my father is that people like him don’t apologize often.
Even still, Gabriel did.
If I concentrate hard enough, I can almost hear Gabe’s husky voice saying the words. It sends warmth gushing through me and I see flashes of him in my head… escorting Jared out of the Hill, stepping in when Jared grabbed me at the gas station.
In actuality, my father was more like Jared. And Gabriel is nothing like that. Is it possible that I misjudged him on every level?
Maybe he’s nothing like my father at all.
The thought sends a knot into my throat as I answer his text.
It’s okay.
I don’t know why it’s okay, I just know that all of a sudden, it is.
And then he says something that sends my heart into my throat.
Just so you know, the next date I go on will be with you.
I s
tare at the words, unable to keep from smiling, even as my fingers shake. Mila stares at me once again, her curiosity apparent.
So you’re threatening me now? I answer, and I have to giggle just a little.
This game I’m playing with him is the most fun I’ve had in a while. Mila grows annoyed with my lack of explanation and rolls her eyes, muttering something about how stubborn I am. And then Gabriel’s answering text comes through.
No, it’s a promise.
I know we’re just bantering back and forth, but those four words make my legs tremble. Gabriel is so strong, so assured. So secure. He makes me feel like I can depend on him. It’s a thought that I know will freak me out later when I can really think about it.
Well, we DO have something we need to finish, I quickly type before I can talk myself out of it.
A thrill rushes through me as I slip my phone back into my purse and turn to Mila’s waiting gaze.
“And that was?” She lifts an eyebrow.
“Gabriel,” I sigh. “Jacey’s brother.”
“Oh, I know who Gabriel is,” Mila laughs. “What’s going on?”
So I tell her just a little, how an entire date with Ethan can leave me cold, but one single glance from Gabriel can set my blood on fire. One stupid text can leave me weak-kneed.
As sick as Mila looks, she laughs again.
“Oh my God. You have no idea how happy this makes me. Don’t look so miserable, Mad. This is awesome!”
“Then why does it feel so scary?” I grumble.
Mila nods sagely. “Because it is scary. When I was first with Pax, I was terrified. I mean, he was so messed up, but I still loved him. He’s who I’m meant to be with. And look how it all turned out, look how happy we are now. It was all worth it. I know that Gabriel has some baggage. I can see it on him. And I’m sure you can see it on him. But whatever Gabriel’s stuff is, I’m sure you can work through it. And it will be worth it.”
“You think?” I raise an eyebrow and my sister nods again.
“I know.”
“We’ll see,” I answer firmly. “I don’t want to wind up curled up on my bed crying about him when he loses his temper with me one too many times. I’m never going to be Mom, Mila.”
Mila looks away, at the wall, at the floor. I know that she doesn’t remember nearly as much stuff as I do about our parents’ problems. If Mom was crying, I took Mila outside to play. If Mom and Dad were screaming, I’d take Mila to the beach. She didn’t see as much as I did, even though she knows it happened.
“I know,” she finally answers in a small voice. “Dad had some anger issues. But Gabriel isn’t Dad. And you aren’t Mom. Trust me, you should give Gabriel a chance. My gut is telling me that he’d be good for you.”
I stare at my sister, at her tired face, at her skinny arms.
“I’m sorry, Sis. I’ve been sitting here boring you with my drama and you need to go rest. You really do look awful. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
I reach to help her from her stool, but she pauses, a strange look on her face.
“Ow,” she mumbles, her hand falling to her abdomen, pressing tightly. I’m startled as I stare at her stricken face.
“What is it?” I ask anxiously.
“I don’t know,” she answers quietly. “I’m crampy.”
She’s crampy? I sit still, frozen, as she rubs her belly. Then, as she slides from her stool, she’s the one who stands frozen, her eyes wide.
“What?” I ask nervously.
And then I see it. Blood drips in a crimson stream down one of her bare legs and onto the floor. I gasp and grab her, pulling her into a chair, making her sit.
“Are you OK? Are you in pain?”
I flutter around like a crazy person, not sure what to do. Mila is calmer than I am as she sits hunched over in the chair.
“I’m going to get some clothes on, then can you drive me to the doctor?”
I nod, then run up the stairs to her room, taking them two at a time.
“I’ll grab your clothes,” I call over my shoulder. “You stay right there. Maybe you should call your doctor.”
I can hear her speaking on the phone as I rifle through her drawers and find a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt. When I come running back down the stairs, she is hanging up the phone. Her face is grim and pale.
“What did they say?” I ask anxiously as I hand her the clothing.
“They said to come straight in.”
Mila inhales sharply and I grab her. “Are you OK?”
“I don’t know,” she murmurs as she pulls the clothes on. “The cramps just got worse. All of a sudden.”
Even I know that this shouldn’t be happening. Pregnant women shouldn’t be crampy. And there definitely shouldn’t be blood involved.
I’m beyond panicked now and I don’t know what to do. Now I know how Pax feels, because if I could carry Mila out to the car, I so would.
Pax.
“I should call Pax,” I tell her quickly, in relief. Pax will know what to do.
But Mila immediately shakes her head.
“It might be nothing,” she says quickly. “Let’s just wait until we know. I don’t want to worry him.”
But her face gives her away.
She’s terrified and she thinks something is really wrong. I gulp as I get her settled into the front seat of my car and then I practically break land-speed records getting her to the doctor. I gulp again when I help her out of the car and see the blood smeared on the seat.
Fuck.
To the doctor’s credit, she gets Mila right in without a wait at all. I help Mila change into the horrible paper gown, then hold her hand as the doctor does a sonogram.
“Mmmhmmm,” Dr. Hall muses as she runs the ball of the sonogram wand over my sister’s belly, to and fro. “Mmmhmm.”
“What is it?” Mila asks anxiously, her green eyes wide and scared. “Do you see anything? Is there a heartbeat?”
The doctor looks up at her. “Yes, there’s a heartbeat,” she assures her. “And it’s strong. What I am seeing, though, is cause for concern.”
“Oh, God,” Mila breathes. “What is it?” Her fingers clutch mine a little tighter.
The doctor stares at the computer screen and then points to a round, dark mass just to the side of the fetus. “See that area right there? That black area?” Mila and I both nod.
“That is what’s called a subchorionic hemorrhage. In plain English, it’s a blood pool that is forming between the placenta and your uterine wall. Sometimes it’s a result of a serious injury, but more often than not it just happens. We don’t know the cause.”
“What does it mean?” Mila whispers. “Is the baby going to be all right?”
The doctor’s face is serious. “It means that if the blood pool continues to grow, it could cause your placenta to break away from the uterus, in what is called placental abruption. That could be fatal for your baby and life-threatening for you.”
“Oh my God,” I can’t help but gasp. It comes out before I even think about it. Mila swallows hard.
“What can we do about it?”
“Well, if it were a small pool of blood, I wouldn’t be so worried, but it’s fairly substantial already. We need to keep it stabilized and prevent it from growing. The best way we can do that is to keep you off your feet. You’re going to require complete bed rest. You can only get up to go to the bathroom. No sex, no walking, limited movement.”
The doctor pauses, allowing that to sink in.
“What’s the prognosis?” I manage to ask.
“Good question. I’d say from the size of this bleed that Mila has a fifty to sixty percent chance of preterm labor. The real risk with this situation, though, is hemorrhage. It happens so suddenly that it’s hard to control, which makes it dangerous. So, Mila, I’m going to put you in the hospital overnight, so that I can give you some fluids. You’re dehydrated. And then after that, complete bed rest at home and we’ll hope for the best.”
Mila
nods, the shock apparent on her pale face.
I feel her hand get even colder as I clutch it within mine.