Mary Sullivan - No Ordinary Home

No phone call had ever been tougher to make. A moment later, she answered.

“Hey, Mom. It’s me.”

Silence. What else had he expected? People didn’t change overnight just because others wanted them to.

“How are you? Did Deputy Turner stop by today?”

A long hesitation followed, but he wouldn’t break it. The ball was in her court.

Finally, he heard, “He came by,” in the small voice he knew too well. He could hear the subtext as clearly as a bell: I’m helpless. I need you.

It tugged at him, but he hardened himself.

“Good. I’m glad he visited.”

“He didn’t bring me anything.”

“No reason he should. The milk would still be good. You’ll have enough fresh fruit and vegetables for the next few days.”

“He said you shouldn’t have gone and left me alone.”

Austin doubted that. Turner had been one of the ones urging him to get away. Mom must have misinterpreted something the deputy said. Deliberately, no doubt.

“Mother.” Austin kept his tone firm. “You’re not an invalid. You’re only fifty. You can take care of yourself. You have no diseases, no dementia.”

She made a sound that was hard to characterize. It might have been a humph. He’d called her on her so-called helplessness in the past, and yet he still took care of her.

Breathe deeply. Hold. Exhale the guilt.

“Listen, I have to go,” he said. “I’m meeting Finn for dinner.”

“Go. Have fun.” Her clipped words came out loaded with resentment.

Holding his anger in check, Austin decided he’d better cut the call short. “I’ll call again tomorrow. Good night, Mom.”

He tossed the phone onto the bed. Better than throwing it at the wall.

For years, he’d been trying to rehabilitate his mother, to prop her up, and he was exhausted from taking care of her. It had to end soon. He was sick of it. She—

A sound of distress from the bathroom caught his attention.

Gracie! In her weakened state, had she fallen? He barged in.

CHAPTER THREE

GRACIE STOOD BENT over the toilet with a towel wrapped around her, shivering and retching.

As far as Austin could tell, nothing was coming up.

“You must be pretty well cleaned out by now.” He rubbed her back, all of the knobs and bones and sharp edges along her spine. Too bad she’d lost her lunch. She sure needed the calories.

Austin grasped her shoulders and held her steady while she retched some more. “Don’t think you’re going to lose anything else. I think you’re done.”

She nodded. “Why are you in here?”

“Heard you retching.”

“Crap on a broomstick,” she said like it was some kind of badass imprecation. Austin grinned until she burst into tears.

Aw, goddamn, he hated to see a woman cry. He held her and patted her back awkwardly, because this wasn’t how he usually held a woman. He never hugged strangers. At least she was clean now and smelled like flowers and coconut.

She hiccupped and cursed again. “I don’t do this,” she said and he could tell she wanted to sound fierce. Hard to do when her teeth chattered like a pair of maracas.

“Don’t do what?” He led her into the bedroom.

“I don’t cry. Ever. I haven’t in...” He wasn’t sure but he thought she was doing calculations in her head. “Six years. I haven’t cried in six years. This is so dumb.”

He rummaged in his bag and pulled out a hoodie and a T-shirt. “Put these on.”

He turned his back while she dressed.

She hissed, “Don’t go thinking I’m weak just because I cried.” He heard the zipper rasp on his hoodie.

When he turned back to her, her cheeks were bright red, hot against her pale skin. Nothing worse than having a woman cry and then having her get angry ’cause you saw her doing it.

“I don’t think you’re weak.” He watched her dig through her bag until she came out with a comb. “You’re one of the strongest women I’ve met.”

From the way she looked at him, she didn’t know what to do with his compliment. She entered the bathroom and he followed. She dropped the comb into the sink and poured a few drops of body wash on it.

Good. He’d hate to see her using something dirty to comb her clean hair.

“What was the crying about?”

She studied him in the mirror, pale eyes challenging, embarrassed but tough. “That food wasted. I needed it, really need the nutrition. It’s been a rough couple of days.”

More than a couple, he guessed.

Her face went hard-edged, as though she had to be superstrong now that he’d seen her vulnerable.

Note to self, Austin. Do not, I repeat, do not show pity.

Man, she was tough. A couple of the women he’d dated in Ordinary would have played the pity card for all it was worth. Not this woman.

“I need to brush my teeth.” Her stomach made gurgling noises. “I’d better not go out to dinner.”

Despite the sadness lurking in her eyes, the clear regret at missing another meal, Austin kept his tone neutral, saying only, “I don’t think you should, either. Stay here.”

He left the bathroom and heard her brush her teeth. While she finished cleaning up, he called room service. She might not be able to go out for supper, but she should eat something, or she would be starving by morning.

* * *

GRACIE LEFT THE BATHROOM, wishing she could hide in there all night.

How humiliating to have cried in front of Austin. She hadn’t cried since she’d learned of Jay’s infidelity. Once she’d gotten that out of her system, she hadn’t planned to ever cry again for the rest of her life.

So why today? And why in front of a stranger?

Because I’ve almost reached the end of my road—and my rope—and I’m exhausted.

Hunger had left her depleted. No other explanation for it.

She stopped and stared. Austin had lined the middle of the bed with the spare pillows in the room and had put an extra folded blanket on top of her side of the bed. He’d even turned down the covers.

Such thoughtfulness. Oh. Waterworks threatened again. Stop it. What’s wrong with you?

Nothing! I’m not going to cry, okay? I’m just really, really moved.

Maybe this would work. Maybe they could sleep in the same bed tonight without it being too awkward.

Austin stood across the room beside the window, leaning on the frame, big and calm and about as perfect as a man could be, except for a small scar beside his left eye.

He must have shoved his fingers through his hair because it lay in sexy, rumpled waves. She wanted to straighten it out, but no. That would be a big mistake.

Hands off, Gracie. You don’t need to be attracted to a man right now. You haven’t been for six years. Why start now when you’re so close to the end?

What really appealed to her, though, was underneath the great facade. Inside that broad chest beat an understanding heart. The man gave too much. She was a stranger who’d picked his pocket. He should have given her nothing more than a night in jail.

Instead, he’d shown compassion and it made him too attractive, had her yearning for things that could never be.

She glanced back at the bed. Maybe it would still be awkward. She hadn’t been attracted to a man since Jay, probably because she’d been preoccupied with survival, but Austin had taken care of that for tonight, and that made her warm, soft and fuzzy when she needed to keep up her defenses the most. If she wasn’t careful, she would let her guard down.

Don’t forget who you really are. This man must never find out the truth about you.

You’re almost home free.

She had a long way to go before she could relax into her new, safe life. She didn’t need anyone getting in her way.