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Deborah stared at him, biting her lip, her forehead furrowed in confusion. “You’re thanking me?” She shook her head. “I caused you so much trouble. I—you know—it was more than just a hug.”
“Maybe. At the time. You liked me because I was unavailable. You need someone who has as much love to give you as you have for them.” Daniel wanted to reach out to her, but he was afraid she would bolt. “I just want us to be okay.”
Deborah sniffed and met his gaze. “We’re okay.”
“Good, because from what I’ve been hearing from Ray, I think I’m seeing a black Altima in your future.”
She snorted. “The guy won’t give me the time of day. He can’t even look at me.”
Daniel smiled. He’d tried talking to Alex about Deborah. She was right. The guy was hanging onto his anger for dear life. A good sign he was in over his head when it came to his feelings for Deborah. “That’s because he likes you. Men are stupid about that kind of stuff. You got yourself shot. It scared him. Men don’t like being scared so they get mad. It’s easier. He’ll come around.”
“If he’s going to be such a jerk about stuff, I’m not sure I want him to come around.”
They were almost to the kitchen, full of people eating cookies and drinking hot chocolate and letting go of sadness. “Don’t be a wimp.”
“I’m not a wimp.” She turned her back on him.
“Wimpy, wimpy, wimpy!”
She whirled and glared at him. “Quit it! You don’t need to worry anymore. We’re good. We’re fine. You can get on with your life. Let it go.”
“Go after him. Right now. Don’t wait.” He wanted Deborah to have what he had. Love, happiness, a family life. Along with the love of God, those were the best antidotes for loneliness and the ugly ghosts that led back to a bottle.
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” He grabbed her arm to keep her from plunging through the kitchen door. “Don’t be a coward! It’ll be worth it, I promise.”
He let go and she disappeared from sight. He walked back toward the front door, back to the life waiting for him on the other side. Without effort, he picked up speed until he was almost running.
So worth it.
* * *
Deborah strode down the dirt road that led from Ray’s house to the highway. Alex’s black Altima was parked between an SUV and a pickup truck. From the looks of it, he hadn’t started the engine. He sat there, not moving.
Maybe he felt as paralyzed as she did. Deborah had tried calling Alex. He never returned her calls. She was still on medical leave so there was no chance of running into him at work. His apartment—as much as she wanted to make things right with him—she couldn’t go to his apartment. When she’d had the chance to talk to him at the service, she’d chickened out and let him walk away without saying a word. Because she was afraid of his response.
Afraid it would be like his response in the hospital. He’d ended their friendship. And then he’d whirled and marched from her hospital room. The hazy yet seemingly real memory of a hand brushing her hair from her face and lips touching her cheek must have been a dream, just a dream before the drugs had worn off. Like most men in her life, Alex had bailed out when things got rough.
An engine revved. He’d started the car. Before she could lose her nerve, Deborah marched over to the car and planted herself in front of it. He’d have to go through her to leave.
After a few long seconds, the window rolled down. Alex stuck his head out the window and stared at her with those opaque brown eyes that seemed to see through her. His devastating grin was nowhere in sight. “Did you need something?”
“Yeah. For you to stop being such a horse’s rear end, for starters.”
“Me? Me!” The engine died. He got out, and strode toward her. She instinctively took a step back and stumbled over a large rock beside the road. The sudden motion made her catch her breath. The pain in her midsection never seemed to subside completely. She was afraid to take the painkillers, afraid of a whole new level of addiction. Alex must have seen the pain on her face. He took her arm, his fingers warm against her skin. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you—are you all right?”
“You didn’t mean to hurt me?” Deborah jerked away from his touch. “So you don’t think you’re hurting me by being so unforgiving and hateful?”
“Hateful? You took on a murdering gang banger by yourself when all you had to do was wait a minute or two more and we’d been there to take him out. It could’ve ended without gunfire, without a couple bullets in your gut. You endangered yourself, those kids, Baker, Cooper, and me by trying to act like a one-woman show. Cops back each other up by sticking to the plan. Friends back each other up. You and me . . . we . . . you should’ve . . .”
Deborah leaned in a little closer, in his space, but not touching him. She’d come a long way, but not that far. “I should’ve waited. I should’ve let you lead that one time. You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay, sorry!”
“Okay.” He breathed hard, panting like he’d been running. “Apology accepted.”
“So, are we all right?” She needed for them to be all right.
“Deborah.” He smoothed back thick windblown hair. Deborah caught herself wanting to do it for him. “I can’t, don’t you see, I—”
