Mallory just stared. “Mrs. Burland,” she repeated. “The woman who hates all of us, especially me?”
“Yes,” Bill said. “Although I don’t think she hates you as much as the rest of us. I believe Jane told you, there’s a special condition on her donation.”
“Me.”
“Yeah. Consider your new salary for HSC a raise since I don’t have it in the budget to offer you one for your RN position in the ER.”
“But I quit.”
“So un-quit. Take the knowledge that HSC is now secure, and so is your job, and get out of my office and back to work.”
She thought about that for all of two seconds. “Yes, sir.” She got up and moved to the door.
“Oh, and Mallory?”
She turned back.
“Don’t ever quit again. My voice mail and e-mail box is overloaded with just about everyone in town demanding I’d best not lose you. Your mother has been hounding my ass since you walked out. Hell, my mother is hounding me. Understand?”
For the first time since she’d woken alone that morning, Mallory managed a smile. “I understand.”
One week later, Mallory’s life looked good—on paper. She had her job back, the future of HSC was secured, and the town was behind her.
What she didn’t have was Ty.
Get used to it, she told herself, but on Saturday she rolled out of bed with a decided lack of enthusiasm. She’d done as she’d wanted. She’d stepped out of her comfort zone. She’d been selfish and lived her life the way she wanted, and it’d been more exciting than she could have imagined.
But how did she go back to being herself?
You don’t, she decided. She’d put her heart on the line for the first time in her life but she’d made the choice to do it.
No regrets.
That was the day she got the delivery—a plain padded envelope, the return address too blurry and smeared to make out. She opened it up and a carefully wrapped package fell out. Opening the tissue paper, she stared down at the beautiful charm bracelet she’d coveted from the charity auction all those weeks ago.
There was no note, but none was necessary. She knew who’d sent it, and she pressed her hand to her aching heart at what it meant.
Ty, of course. He’d understood her as no other man ever had. He got that she was vested in this town, maybe in the same way he’d yearned to be, that the bracelet meant something to her. He’d added a charm, a ’68 Shelby. She had no idea where he could have gotten it from, or what it’d cost him.
What did it mean?
It meant he cared about her, she told herself. Deeply. It meant she was on his mind, maybe even that he missed her.
She missed him, too, so very much.
Throat tight, she put the bracelet on, swallowed her tears, and shored up her determination to continue stretching her wings.
Two weeks later, Ty was on a flight back to the U.S. after an assignment that had involved escorting diplomats to a Somalian peace treaty.
The team he’d been with were all well-trained, seasoned men with the exception of one, who was fresh out of the military. Their first night, there’d been a kidnapping attempt, but they’d shut it down with no problem.
There’d been no injuries on Ty’s team unless he counted the newbie, who’d gotten so nervous when it was over that he’d thrown up and needed an IV fluid replacement. Ty had done the honors.
“Sorry,” the kid muttered to Ty that night, embarrassed as he watched Ty pull the IV. “I lost it.”
Ty shook his head. “Happens.”
“But not to you, right?”
On Ty’s first mission, and on every assignment up to the plane crash, he’d thrived on what he’d been doing. He’d believed in it with every fiber of his soul, understood that he’d belonged out there doing what he could to save lives.
After the crash, he hadn’t just lost four friends. He’d also lost something of himself. His ability to connect. To get attached.
Until Lucky Harbor. Until the nosy, pestering people of Lucky Harbor, who cared about everyone and everything in their path. Including him.
And Mallory. God, Mallory. She’d been the last piece of his shattered soul fitting back into place. “Hell yeah, it happens to me.”
The kid looked surprised to hear Ty admit such a thing but he nodded in appreciation. “I can do this,” he told Ty. “I’m ready for whatever comes our way.”
But nothing did.
They spent two entire weeks doing nothing more than cooling their heels in the African bush, where the most exciting thing to happen was watching through the long-range scope of a rifle as an elephant gave birth in the distance.
Ty had come back to this because he thought he’d needed the rush of the job to be happy.
So where in the holy hell was his happy?
He knew the answer to that. It was thousands and thousands of miles away, with a woman who’d decimated the carefully constructed wall around his heart. And that’s when it hit him between the eyes: It wasn’t the job that fueled him, that kept him sane.
It was Mallory.
She was his team. She and Lucky Harbor. When he was there with her, she filled him up. Made him whole.
Made him everything.
Christ, he was slow. Too slow. It was probably far too late for such realizations. He’d been a fool and walked away from the best thing to ever happen to him, and Mallory didn’t suffer fools well.
He looked out the airplane window as they finally circled D.C. Normally, at this point he’d be thinking about his priorities: sleeping for two days, fueling up on good food, and maybe finding a warm, willing woman.
He could get behind the sleep and the food, but there was only one woman he could think of, only one woman he wanted.
He’d left Lucky Harbor certain this had been his future, the nomadic, dangerous work he’d given his life to. He’d told himself it was the right thing to do, that he had to do this to make his team’s deaths mean something. Plus, he could never give Mallory the kind of life she wanted. It just wasn’t for him.
He’d been wrong on all counts. He knew it now. Brad, Tommy, Kelly, and Trevor’s deaths would always mean something. And his life meant something, too. Probably he’d always known that, but he hadn’t had his head screwed on right for a long time. He had it on tight now.
Debriefing took far too long. Frances was waiting for him. A tall, stacked blonde, she had mile-long legs that looked so good in a power suit she was her boss’ sole weapon for recruiting.
Once upon a time, she’d recruited the hell out of Ty.
Now there was nothing between them but an odd mix of hostility and affection. She looked him over from head to toe and then back again. “You look like shit.”
“Aw. Thanks.”
She didn’t offer him a smile, just another long gaze, giving nothing away. “You’re not staying,” she guessed.
“I’m not staying.” He tossed her his security pass and walked.
“Do you really think a place like Lucky Harbor has anything to offer you?” she called after him.
He knew it did. He had connections there, real ones.
“Dammit, Ty,” she said to his back when he kept walking. “At some point, you have to stop running.”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Ty caught a red-eye flight into Seattle, and as he landed he brought up Lucky Harbor’s Facebook. He’d resisted until now, but as the page loaded, he felt a smile curve his mouth at the latest note posted on the wall:
By now, you’ve all heard about Mrs. Burland’s $100,000 donation to HSC, and how she single-handedly saved the clinic, brought back Mallory Quinn, AND created peace on earth.
Okay, maybe not quite peace on earth, but we do worship the ground she walks on. (Did I get that right, Louisa?)
ANYWAY, last week’s raffle raised an additional $5K for the hospital. Thanks to our own Mallory Quinn for her tireless efforts. The grand prize—a date with Hospital Administrator Bill Lawson—was won by Jane Miller, Director of Nurses. Rumor has it that there was a good-night kiss. Wonder if Bill put out? Sources say yes. Look for a summer wedding…
Dawn hit the eastern sky as Ty drove a rental car into Lucky Harbor. He wondered if Mallory was still asleep in her bed, warm and soft.
Alone.
Christ, he hoped so. It’d only been two weeks but he’d left abruptly. Cruelly. He had no right to be back, no right at all to ask her to forgive him.
But that’s exactly what he was going to do.
The ocean was still an inky purple as he drove past the pier, then hit the brakes.
The Shelby was in the lot at the diner.
Heart pounding, he parked and entered. The place smelled like fresh paint. The floors looked new and yet seemed to be made of the same timeless linoleum as they’d been before the sprinkler situation. He found Amy, Grace, and Mallory seated at the counter eating chocolate chip pancakes.
Or they had been eating, until he entered.
Three forks went still in the air.
Grace’s and Amy’s gazes slid to Mallory, but she was paying them no attention whatsoever. She was staring at Ty, her fork halfway to her mouth.
He’d walked through fire fights with less nerves, but he took hope from the sight of the charm bracelet glinting on her wrist.
“This is a private meeting,” Grace told him. “Locals only.”
“Grace,” Mallory said quietly, her eyes never leaving Ty, but for once not giving anything of herself away, either. Ty had absolutely no idea what she was thinking; her face was carefully blank.
A lesson she’d probably learned from him.
Chapter 24
In the cookies of life, friends and lovers
are the chocolate chips.
Mallory stared at Ty and got light-headed, which turned out to be because she wasn’t breathing.
“I thought you chocoholics met over cake,” Ty said.
Two weeks. It’d been two weeks since she’d seen him, and he wanted to discuss cake. She hungrily drank in the sight of him. He wore battered Levi’s and a white button-down, looking as good as ever. But he’d lost some weight, and his eyes were guarded.
“We’ve been banned from cake,” Grace said. “On account of the candles.”
Amy pointed at Ty with her fork. “You planning on walking in and out of her life again?”
“Just in,” he said, his gaze never leaving Mallory’s. “We need to talk.”
“So talk,” Grace said.
Amy nodded.
Heart pounding, Mallory stood up and gave both of her friends a shake of her head. “You know what he’s asking. Give us a minute.”
“Okay, but this is his third time interrupting us,” Amy pointed out. “And—”
“Please,” Mallory said to her friends.
Amy looked at Ty, using her first two fingers to point at him, going back and forth between his eyes and hers, silently giving him notice that she was watching him and not to even think about misbehaving.
Grace dragged her away.
Mallory waited until they were out of earshot to look at Ty. Her entire being went warm as she drank him in. She had no idea why he was back but she hoped like hell she was part of the reason.
“You still trying to save me, Mallory?” Ty asked quietly.
Her heart was hammering so loud she couldn’t hear herself talk. “I can’t seem to help myself.”
“I don’t need saving.”
No. No, he sure didn’t. He was strong and capable, and more than able to take care of himself. “What do you need?”
“You,” he said simply. “Only you.”
“Oh,” Grace breathed softly from behind them. “Oh, that’s good.”
Both Mallory and Ty turned to find that Amy and Grace had scooted close enough to eavesdrop. Grace winced and held up an apologetic hand. “Sorry. Continue.”
Mallory turned back to Ty, who took her hand in his big, warm one to entwine their fingers, bringing them up to his chest. His heartbeat was a reassuring steady thump. “I know you’ve looked for Mr. Right,” he said. “And then Mr. Wrong. I was thinking maybe you’d be interested in a Mr.…Regular.”
Her throat went tight. “That’d be great,” she managed. “But I don’t see any regular guys standing in front of me.”
The corner of his mouth tipped up and melted her but she wasn’t going to be distracted by his hotness right now. “Your job,” she said.
“Yeah, I thought that’s what drove me, gave me what I needed. I was wrong, Mallory. It’s you. You fulfill me, like no job or no person ever has. You make me whole.”
There was a sniffle behind them. Two sniffles. Mallory ignored them, even as she felt like sniffling herself. “Won’t you go crazy here?”
“There’s an opening in Seattle for a trauma flight paramedic. Also, I was thinking I want to work with veterans at HSC. I think I could help. And if I get bored and need some real action, there’s always the arcade.”
Mallory was absorbing this with what felt like a huge bucket of hope sitting on her chest. “And me,” she whispered. “I could show you some action. You know, once in awhile.”
“Mallory,” he said, sounding raw and staggered and touched beyond words. “God, I was so stupid. So slow. I didn’t know what to do with you. I tried to keep my distance but my world doesn’t work without you in it.”
She melted. Given the twin sighs behind her, she wasn’t the only one. “But is a trauma paramedic job enough for you?”
“There’s more important things to me than an adrenaline rush. There’s more important things than any job. But there’s nothing more important than you,” he said. “Mallory, I lo—”