Deadly Ties Page 7

  “Different?” Tim flicked at a speck of lint on his slacks.

  Mark struggled. “She has every reason to be hard and jaded, but she’s not. She’s kind and compassionate, and there’s something pure about her that just gets to me.” Why didn’t he shut up? He should shut up. “She’s subtle too.”

  Joe choked on a drink. “About as subtle as a sledgehammer.”

  “To others, yeah. But nobody sees her like I do.”

  Nick grunted. “You mean through the stars in your eyes?”

  “No, Grim Reaper, I mean she doesn’t show anyone else what she shows me. To her, I’m different.”

  “I always said that about you, bro.” Joe faked a toothy grin. “You see me through stars too?”

  “Another crack and you’ll be seeing stars.”

  “Touchy, touchy.” Tim leaned forward, clasped his hands atop his knees.

  “I’m trying to be serious here.” Mark’s take on Lisa rattled him enough that he wanted to get their insight because he lacked his own. Now he wondered why. “The fact is, I’m floored by her purity.”

  “Um.” Sam tugged at his cap’s brim. “Can’t say that’s an asset I generally seek in my women.”

  Mark frowned. “I mean inside, moron.”

  “Huh?”

  “Sam, you’re hopeless.” Flustered, Mark gave up.

  Tim walked over. “Tell us what you mean, buddy.”

  He was sorry he’d brought it up. But he couldn’t undo what he’d done. “She’s got this innocence about her, and she believes in other people. She sees the good in them, even when you really have to look hard to find it.”

  Tim dipped his chin. “That’s nice. But not what this innocence is about, is it?”

  Mark opted for the truth. “No. It’s about the way she is with me.”

  “How’s that?” Joe asked.

  “Tender. I love that. She’s protective of Mel and the others—most of the time overprotective—but she’s not tender with them like she is with me. I don’t know. I can’t figure it out, much less explain it.”

  “None needed.” Tim assured him. “I think of Mandy and know exactly what you mean.”

  “Well, if you’ve got any sense, you’ll hightail it outta here, bud.” Sam sighed. “Otherwise you’re gonna end up hogtied, dragging a pure ball and chain.”

  Mark looked Sam straight in the eye. “Hers? I should be so lucky.”

  Tim clapped Mark on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, buddy. Their turns will come.” Tim lifted his chin. “Sometimes being led by the nose must be experienced to be appreciated—like classical music and opera.”

  Sam harrumphed. “I’ll stick to country.”

  Mark swung his gaze to Joe, who held up a staying hand. “Sorry, bro. I’m a jazzman. Why pick a woman with that kind of power?”

  “I didn’t exactly pick her.” Mark shrugged. God had picked her for him. “The first time I saw her, I just knew she was it. I don’t know what I have to do to earn her, but whatever it is, I’m in. She’s worth it.”

  “Earn her?”

  “Well, yeah.” Mark grunted. “You know. You never get something for nothing. I’m just saying, whatever the cost, I’ll pay it.”

  “Well,” Joe confessed, “I’ve been giving you a hard time, but if she looked at me like she looks at you, I’d know it too.” Joe turned to the others. “She teaches self-defense to at-risk women. Even during med school.”

  “Wait a second.” Nick lifted a hand. “Did I just pay my fifty by mistake?”

  “How would I know?” Mark glared at Nick and Tim. “I was the bet. I don’t know the terms you goons put on it.”

  Nick stayed Mark’s objection. “From your own mouth, are you or are you not in love with her, man?”

  Mark bit the bullet. “I love her. Always have, always will. But she doesn’t know it.”

  “You haven’t told her?”

  Mr. Refined sounded stunned. “No, Tim, I haven’t told her. She’s had enough to deal with without my complicating her life even more.”

  Joe rubbed his chin. “So you just do what you can to help her and her mom out and keep the rest to yourself.”

  “Pretty much, yeah.” Mark searched for condemnation in their eyes but saw none.

  “Smart move,” Tim said. “Especially under these circumstances.”

  “I have to agree.” Sam swiped his teeth with his tongue. “She’s had her hands full, and relationships are messy.”

  “Like you’d know.”

  “Yeah, Nick, I do know.” Sam grinned. “I have a relationship every couple months. Then they get the look, and I run. Fast.”

  Nick snorted. “Coward.”

  “Hey, I’ll dodge bullets anytime. But I don’t want to be anywhere near a woman with the look. I’m not that brave.”

  Tim grunted. “Someone sharing your life and caring about you … Yeah, being loved is a real hardship.”

  “Not all women are like Mandy, okay,” Sam said. “If they were, all you doofuses would be engaged.”

  “Buddy, you don’t have to tell me she’s a rare find. I know it.”

  “Well, I know I’d welcome the look from Lisa.” So far Mark’s odds for getting it appeared slim to none, though when she’d surprised him jumping into his arms today. Of course, he’d blown it, dropping her on her backside like that. What had he been thinking? Moron.

  Joe snatched one of Sam’s pretzels. “Maybe now that she’s practicing, she’ll have time for a life, and you’ll have the chance to get her used to the idea.”

  “Just tell her, Mark,” Nick said. “She talks straight, she’ll hear straight too.”

  “Absurd.” Tim returned to his seat, then went on. “A man never just tells a woman anything. It’s suicide, Nick. You should know that.” Tim cut his gaze to Joe. “Step in any time, Romeo. It’s obvious your expertise is needed.”

  Joe did have a way with women. “Normally I wouldn’t reveal my secrets, but you guys are way too lost to ever be found. The answer is simple, bro. Charm. Clean and simple.”

  “I’m charming.” Nick scowled.

  “Me too. So’s Tim and Mark.” Snarling, Sam swiveled on the stool. “You saying we’re not charming?”

  Joe lifted one hand. “I’m saying there’s charm,” he said, then lifted the other, “and then there’s charm. The secret is sincerity. Charm isn’t telling her she has a nice body. Or pretty teeth.”

  Sam stood. “He’s talking about that little waitress down at Ruby’s Diner—and she did have pretty teeth.”

  Nick gave it up and cracked a smile.

  “Joe?” Mark prodded him. “Sincerity about what?”

  “Seeing into her heart and validating her dreams.”

  “What the spit does that mean?” Sam twisted his cap, as if deciphering that puzzle had fried his brain.

  “It’s an incredible insight.” Tim nodded and slapped his knee. “That’s it, Mark. Charm her. Sincerely.”

  Just looking at her made it impossible to think straight, and he was supposed to charm her sincerely? Man, he could take down terrorists, but was he up to this? “I’ll give it my best shot.” Serious doubts crept in. “No, I’m going to be myself. It’s who I am, and it either works for her or it doesn’t.”

  Still, fear burned in him, and he let the guys see it in his eyes. “Really, it’s just going to depend.”

  Joe frowned. “On what, bro?”

  Mark met and held his gaze, unflinching. “Whether or not we can keep her alive.”

  6

  S he’s here!” From the receptionist’s desk at Crossroads Crisis Center, Melanie shouted to the others. “She’s parking the lemon at the curb.” Mark smiled. Mel had abandoned her preference for seriously funky and worn a simple black dress. It matched her nail polish and worked with the neon-green streaks in her hair. She’d gone all out for Lisa, and that endeared her to Mark—and apparently to Sam. Mark gave him the two-finger “eyes only” signal.

  “She’s over twenty-one,” Sam w
hispered. “College student, right?”

  “Touch her and die.”

  Joe relaxed into a cool smile. “That’s our Mark. Cutting to the bottom line. The lady is hands off, Sam. Got it?”

  He frowned, clearly disappointed. “I got it.”

  Nick dropped his voice. “What’s the lemon, and why are we here? We’re supposed to be at Three Gables for a party, right?”

  “Praying together here first is a tradition—for Lisa in her practice—and the lemon is her car. Well, the car she drives. Someone donated it to the center a couple of years ago. The gray Pontiac.” Mark nodded past the bank of arched windows to the curb. “Everybody calls it the lemon.” He nudged his tie.

  Nick grunted. “Always breaking down, eh?”

  “Get real, bud,” Sam said. “Mark wouldn’t put up with that. Not her car.”

  “Sure he would.” Joe chuckled, a twinkle in his eye. “Or am I wrong?”

  Mark didn’t answer.

  “Ten says you’re not.” Tim slid a knowing glance from Joe to Mark. “Why do I sense you’re behind these breakdowns?”

  “Because I am,” Mark confessed. “They’re a cover to facilitate communications between Lisa and Annie. Otherwise they’d never get to talk.”

  The light dawned in Tim’s eyes. “Dutch knows the car is a lemon.”

  “Of course. He hears she’s broken down, tries to intervene, Lisa and Annie talk while I’m intercepting him. It’s not slick but it works.”

  “That’s what matters.” Joe shrugged.

  Tim stepped away to answer a call on his cell. From his expression—a little dazed, a little dreamy—he was talking to Mandy. Love looks good on him.

  Mark caught movement from the corner of his eye and turned. Kelly and Ben walked into the reception area, their hands linked. Nice progress going on there. Nora and Clyde and Harvey soon joined them.

  “Mrs. Crane, you’re gonna miss her!” Mel shouted out.

  Peggy came rushing down the short hallway and half stumbled into the reception area, bumping her elbow against the wall and knocking her glasses askew. “I was on the phone with Beth Dawson. Someone’s tried to hack into our computers.”

  “What?” Ben asked. “Were they successful?”

  “Against Beth Dawson?” Peggy snorted. “Absolutely not. She’s putting in some new code to add another layer of protection. I didn’t understand it exactly. She says to think of our firewall having a firewall.”

  “Whatever it is, dearie, Beth will handle it.” Nora patted her arm.

  “Just tell me I’m not late.” Peggy craned her neck.

  “Cutting it pretty close, but you’re okay.” Mel chided Peggy. “She’s five feet from the door.”

  Lisa walked in smiling and wearing a pale blue gown that swished around her calves. Her long blond hair was swept up, and thin, curly strands fell loose and framed her glowing face. Had he ever seen her this excited? Mark couldn’t recall it. His insides warmed.

  Sam sucked in a sharp breath. “Whoa, Joe. You were right.”

  “Of course.” He looked at Sam. “About what?”

  “The picture didn’t do her justice. She could be a model on one of those runways or something.”

  “Maybe from heaven,” Tim said. “Definitely looks angelic.”

  “Breathe, bro,” Joe whispered to Mark. “Just breathe.”

  He tried. Lisa laughingly accepted greeting kisses from all the staff. Mark couldn’t seem to move, and the guys deliberately hung back and watched everyone else interact. Old habits die hard.

  She paused to say something to Mel, who frowned. “Will you quit worrying about me, Lisa? This is your night.”

  Lisa whispered an unheard response, and Melanie gave her a warning. “You’ve got to let me scrape my knees so I learn, okay? Otherwise, I’m going to crash and scrape my nose.”

  “Okay. Okay.” Lisa nodded. “I am trying.”

  “I know,” Mel said. “That’s why I adore you.”

  Lisa wrinkled her nose. “Me too.”

  “What’s she holding?” Sam asked. “Hey, it’s got a bow.”

  “Are you that dense?” Tim tugged at the tip of his bow tie. “No, wait. Don’t answer that. I put my life in your hands too many times. If you are that dense, I don’t want to know it.”

  Nick thumbed his cuff link. It caught the light, winked. “Our princess has obviously brought herself a present to her party.” He turned to Mark. “Is that a southern woman thing too?”

  “We’re lucky to be alive,” Tim told Joe. “Alabama and New York, both sides of the Mason-Dixon, and they’re as dense as dirt.”

  “From the neck up, dead stumps.” Joe shrugged. “But they are pretty good at blowing things up.”

  Tim, the only one of them classy enough to be totally at ease in a tux, sighed. Mark, Joe, and Nick had settled for dark suits, and Sam, well, they were lucky to get him not to wear his cap, though someone—probably Nora—had wrangled him into a tie. Its knot hung loose halfway down his chest.

  Lisa scanned the room and stopped on Mark. He smiled. She smiled back, and it flooded her deep blue eyes, stealing his breath all over again.

  “Mark.” She rushed over and flung her arms around his neck. “Bend down so I can kiss you.”

  Mark bent and offered her his cheek.

  Lisa laughed, cupped his face in her hands, and planted a solid kiss on his lips. “It’s my party, Mark Taylor. No kiss on the cheek for or from you tonight.”

  Surprise rippled through him. What did he say or do? Having no idea, he just stood there, hoping he didn’t look as dopey as he felt. Sincerely charming. Right.

  She kissed him again, looped her arm through his, and then nodded a greeting to the guys. “Joe, I’m so glad you came—all of you, welcome.”

  Joe introduced her to the others, and a twinkle sparkled in his eyes. “Wouldn’t miss it. We don’t often get to see Mark speechless.”

  “It is a wondrous thing, isn’t it?” She teased and passed the package to Mark. “Happy birthday.”

  “For me?” He tried to control his voice, but she’d stunned him and knocked him off guard twice.

  She nodded. “It’s not much.”

  Money was tight for her. A lump swelled in his throat. “Thank you, Lisa.” He could count on one hand the number of times he’d been given a gift by someone other than Nora or Annie and have fingers left over.

  “Well, open it.”

  “Now?” He gazed at her, at the crisp white paper and big blue bow. “No, I’ll wait. Tonight is your night.”

  “It’s your night too.” Lisa smiled and motioned to someone behind him.

  Peggy Crane walked forward with a cake. Candles flickered atop it, and the group broke into singing “Happy Birthday.”

  Mark nearly lost it. This was a first for him, and the tenderness in it had his eyes stinging.

  “Blow out the candles, my boy.” Nora stepped closer, her eyes shining, her bright red lipstick creasing in her wide lips.

  Mark breathed in the smell of hot wax, blew out the candles, and watched the smoke plumes rise, taking in every detail and committing it to memory so he could relive it again.

  The group applauded, and Tim and Joe shared a knowing look. They understood what this meant to Mark.

  Sam started to say something, but Nick shoved an elbow in his ribs. His words dissolved into a grunt.

  Finally, Mark had a birthday with a celebration: A birthday where no one mourned or blamed him for his mother’s death. One where guilt that Jane was dead and he was alive yet another year didn’t eat him alive. And he had not one but two kisses from Lisa.

  Life didn’t get much better than this.

  To a gentle roar of laughter, he opened gifts from the others, and from the guys, and then from Lisa. His big hands fumbled on the bow. Inside he was shaking, eager and hesitant.

  “It’s a rock.” Sam sounded befuddled. “I wait all this time to see what it is and it’s a rock?” He rolled his eyes.

 
; “That’s not a rock, genius,” Tim whispered. “It’s a sand dollar. Obviously one that means something to them.”

  Mark pretended not to hear them and stayed focused on Lisa. “You kept this?”

  “I’ve carried it with me since you gave it back to me.” She smiled up at him much as she had on the beach the night they’d found it.

  “Why?”

  “I gave it to you, and you kept it because it meant something to you. And then you gave it to me because you knew I needed to know I had value.” Her smile faded.

  “So does this mean you don’t want it anymore?”

  “Oh no.” She clasped his arm. Her mother’s ring on her right hand caught the light and gleamed.

  “I don’t understand.” He scrambled but remained lost. “You want me to carry it?”

  She nodded. “Barring emergencies, until my birthday. Then you can give it back to me.”

  A bubble of joy burst in Mark. “And then on my birthday, you’ll—”

  “Give it back to you, yes.” She tilted her head. “What do you think?”

  “I don’t get it.” Sam’s voice carried to them.

  “You don’t need to; they do,” Tim told him.

  “This is sincerely charming?”

  “Zip it, bro.” Joe glared at Sam. “He needs work, but he’s nailed the important part.”

  Nick edged closer. “What?”

  “Are you morons looking? listening?” Joe shook his head. “He’s seeing into her heart.”

  Mark was, and he was praying Lisa couldn’t hear the morons. But maybe he was making too much of this. She could just be setting up the terms of their ongoing relationship. That didn’t mean it was a romantic thing. It could be more of what they already had—coffee now and then, walks on the beach, a picnic here and there, and the connections between her and her mom. That sounded far more likely.

  The old guilt and shame and unworthiness crept up from the dark places where he kept them buried. Don’t forget who you are. Don’t delude yourself. You? Loveable? Come on, Mark. You know better. Outside of God, that ain’t gonna happen. Not after Jane. Not ever. Women want to feel safe and secure. Who’s going to feel safe and secure with you? Not Lisa, that’s for sure.