Sizzling

“You’re complaining because I let you win? You might want to rethink your priorities.”

“Something’s wrong,” he said. “What is it?”

She turned away. “Nothing.”

“I know enough about women to know that really means there’s something but I’m going to have to work to get at it.” He grabbed her arm. “Tell me.”

She didn’t plan to tell him anything. That was the hell of her situation. There was no one to talk to. Certainly not Madeline, who had enough to deal with herself, and not their mother who was a pretty useless kind of person.

She hated that she was tempted. Even more she hated that despite everything, she was hyper-aware of his fingers on her arm. Even through her sweater, she felt heat and need and a whole list of other desires that would go seriously unfulfilled.

“Go away,” she said, able to appreciate that she was starting to sound like Gloria.

“Maybe I can help.”

“Like you’ve helped all those kids who wrote you?” she asked, twisting free and glaring at him. “I don’t think so. But, hey, if you’re so big on knowing, here’s the thing. My sister’s dying. Okay? Are you happy now that you’re well informed? She has a bad case of Hepatitis C she got from a transfusion years ago. A liver transplant could save her, but she has a rare blood type so the odds aren’t good. So I’m thinking you’re not going to be much help at all unless you happen to be AB negative and want to give up your liver to a really good cause.”

She started out of the kitchen, but before she’d gone more than a few feet, she was swamped with feelings. Maybe Reid was a jerk, but he’d never been jerky directly to her. She had no right to lash out at him. In his own shallow way, he probably had been trying to help.

She glanced back at him, taking in the stunned expression darkening his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have said that. The doctor didn’t have good news and that kind of pushed me over the edge.”

Then she shocked herself and probably him by bursting into tears.

Even as the tears poured down her face, she struggled for control. She didn’t cry—not ever. It wasn’t allowed. She was practical and logical and take-charge. She didn’t allow weakness in herself and she didn’t respect it in other people.

But she couldn’t seem to stop crying.

Suddenly Reid was there in front of her. He pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her.

As she couldn’t seem to stop crying, she let herself lean on him for a few minutes. She let herself be comforted and held.

He was tall and strong, she thought as she held on to him. For once her thoughts where he was concerned weren’t about sex. She had the oddest sense that he could be someone she could trust. Which was totally insane. He was as stable as quicksand.

Still, being held felt really nice. She gave in to weakness until the tears dried up, then she sniffed, took a step back and wiped her face on her sleeve.

“Sorry,” she said, staring at the hardwood floor. It was really shiny. Maybe she should put new floors in her place.

“What happened at the doctor’s appointment?” he asked quietly.

She risked looking at him and saw only sympathy in his eyes. She shrugged.

“I’ve known since the diagnosis that it wasn’t going to be good. I mean, I’m a nurse. I can figure out the steps. But I guess it wasn’t real to me before. I guess I thought nothing bad could happen to my sister. Until this, she’s lived a pretty perfect life.”

She sucked in a breath.

“Her doctor talked about how long she had and how we needed to think about hospice care. That really got to me. Talking about the end.”

Reid reached out and took her hand in his. “What’s the time frame?”

“About a year. She moved in with me a few months ago. She’s starting to have bad days. She’s working part-time, but that won’t last long. I took this job because the hours allow me to spend more time with her and the money is great. I’m saving as much as I can so I can take off the last couple of months to be with her.”

She squeezed his hand and fought tears. “She wanted to talk about that today. On the drive home, she said I shouldn’t put my life on hold for her. That she was fine going into a hospice. But I don’t want that for her. I can take care of her.”

She had to be there for Madeline.

“Is a liver transplant the only way to save her?” he asked.

She nodded. “Unless they find a miracle cure and that’s not likely to happen in time. I’ve been tested and I’m not a match.”

He frowned. “You can’t give up your liver.”

Despite the pain and threat of tears, she smiled. “They use living donors now. They would take a piece of my liver. But it’s a nonissue. I can’t. My mom could except she drank so much for years that there isn’t much of her liver left.”

Lori released his hand and took a step back. “It’s just like Madeline to have a weird blood type. She’s totally perfect in every other way. Why can’t she be O positive like the majority of the population?”

It was easier to joke than admit the real problem. There were no easy solutions for her problem or Madeline’s. Lori never knew how to act or what to say. She just lived in guilt. Because as much as she loved her sister, she’d also resented her in equal measure. Which made her a pretty horrible person.

“I’m sorry,” Reid told her. “I know that doesn’t help, but I don’t know what else to say.”

He sounded sincere, she thought as she stared into his eyes. So they were both clueless. An interesting thing to have in common. “Thank you. I’m sorry I fell apart. It’s not like me. Usually I can hold it together.”

“It’s okay. Under the circumstances anyone would.”

She swallowed and forced herself to tell the truth. “You helped.”

One corner of his mouth turned up. “Then that’s a first for this month.”

He walked out of the kitchen, leaving her staring after him. Had they just had a moment that included sensitivity? She didn’t want him to be more than just a pretty face. That made him far too dangerous for her fragile peace of mind. But it seemed she didn’t have a choice in the matter.

REID WALKED INTO the small den he’d turned into a temporary office. Lori’s problems put his into perspective. People thinking he was lousy in bed was nothing when compared with a sister dying. Of course there were the kids who’d been disappointed, ignored and abandoned by someone who was supposed to be a hero. Telling himself it wasn’t his fault wasn’t cutting it anymore.

He glanced at the stack of letters. Okay, so things had gone wrong. Could he fix the problems after the fact? He grimaced as he remembered Frankie’s sobbing mother. If only…

No, he couldn’t fix the problems, but he could stop new ones from happening. He could do better. He could get involved and make sure the right people got what they needed.

He sat in front of the letters and saw the folder from those kids he’d tried to send to the state finals. The ones who hadn’t gotten return tickets.

He read the hostile, accusing letters and felt his gut tighten. Dammit, it wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t had anything to do with the travel arrangements, but that didn’t matter. The offer had been made in his name.

He scanned the bitter letters and found one from the coach. Not sure what he was going to say, he picked up the phone and dialed.

It took a couple of transfers, but he finally got hold of Coach Roberts. After introducing himself he said, “I’m sorry about the mess with the return tickets. I didn’t know anything about the problem until a couple of days ago. The travel agency my manager hired dropped the ball. I, ah, had him send a check reimbursing everyone for their expenses. Did you get it?”

“Oh, we got it,” the coach said. “It was great. It didn’t cover shit, but, hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Reid straightened. “What are you talking about?”