Baby, I'm Yours. Carrie Weaver
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Название: Baby, I'm Yours

Автор: Carrie Weaver

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Контркультура

Серия: Mills & Boon Cherish

isbn: 9781472056955

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ wasn’t his scent. It was her brother’s.

      Becca stiffened, wondering how she could have confused a brotherly embrace with that of her soul mate. Then she forgave herself for the silly slip, stepping into his arms and hiding as if she were a girl of five again.

      “I’m so sorry. I should have seen you weren’t holding up as well as you wanted us to believe,” Royce said.

      “I’m fine.”

      “No, you’re not.” He drew back and held her gaze. Touching her cheek, he asked, “Have you cried?”

      “No. I can’t. My husband is…dead…and I can’t seem to cry. I’m just so darn angry.”

      “Maybe you could use some time alone. Katy and I are going to take Dad and Evelyn to the airport in a few minutes. How about if David, Maya and Aaron come with us to see them off? Then on our way home, we’ll take the kids to the movies—give everyone a little reprieve.”

      “I don’t suppose Jim and Irene would want to go?” Becca felt guilty even as she asked the question, putting her need to be alone above her in-laws’ grief.

      “We asked Gabe’s folks to come, but they said they want some quiet time alone at the cemetery to say goodbye to Gabe.”

      “Thank you.” She hoped those two words adequately expressed her gratitude for what amounted to a lifeline.

      Her feelings must have shown, because Royce said, “That way you can have some alone time yourself and let go. Quit being brave.”

      “I’m not brave. I’m…sad and confused and so totally p.o.’d, I can barely see straight.”

      “That’s understandable.”

      Her sister-in-law, Katy, approached. “Everyone’s on board for the airport, then the movies.” She turned to Becca and gave her a quick hug. “We’ll clean up when we get home. You don’t do a thing, except maybe take a long, hot bath and crawl into bed.”

      “Thank you.” If the circumstances had been different, Becca would have loved to join them. But as it was, she was just too damn grateful for a few moments of solitude.

      Rick came up beside her and touched her arm. “You need anything, anything, call me.”

      “Thank you.”

      She hugged her kids, her in-laws and her parents and finally they all left.

      For possibly the first time in twenty-three years, Becca was totally alone.

      She started up the stairs to take a bath, but stopped halfway. She simply couldn’t face the master bedroom and bath, where every corner, every cubic inch of air, reflected her life with Gabe. Her first love. Her only love.

      Instead, she retraced her steps to the great room, automatically picking up plates and glassware. By rote, she cleared the room, twining her fingers through several glasses.

      One was slick and she started to lose her grip as she walked into the kitchen.

      Though she tried to save it, the glass fell to the tiled floor and shattered.

      Just as Becca’s life had slipped out of control and broken to bits.

      Powerful emotions bubbled within her, emotions foreign yet somehow right. Red-hot rage. Rage at Gabe for promising her forever and staying only twenty-three years. And anger at a God who had taken him away.

      The sound of glass shattering was the perfect accompaniment to her anger. She grabbed glass after rented glass and dashed it to the floor, glorying in the power of defiance.

      Becca had always played by the rules. She’d been a loving wife, a good mother. She’d treated her in-laws with kindness. Worked hard, volunteered her time, attended church. She had done everything she was supposed to do and her family should have been protected from bad things.

      But fate hadn’t played by the rules. It had delivered a massive heart attack to an otherwise healthy husband and father.

      RICK LEANED his forehead against the cold steering wheel, his breath condensing as he exhaled. He should go home, get out of the Smith driveway. But he couldn’t seem to turn the key in the ignition. Because once he did, Gabe’s life would be past tense. The funeral was over, the wake was over, and now life was supposed to go on as usual.

      But life as usual was no longer possible. Because Gabe wouldn’t be in the office to help build up their rental-car business, playing off Rick’s strengths and weaknesses. There wouldn’t be anybody to clap him on the shoulder after a hard day and suggest stopping for a beer. And there sure wouldn’t be anyone close enough to know what he’d gone through during his divorce, except maybe Becca.

      Rick suspected he would never be the same again. He couldn’t just sail through life, taking for granted that he had decades of good health ahead of him. Not only had he suddenly lost his best friend, he’d also come face-to-face with his own mortality. And he didn’t much like it. If a guy as vital as Gabe could be struck down by a heart attack, then it could happen to anyone.

      He straightened, staring at the house as if to find answers. Maybe even hoping Gabe would come strolling out the door saying it was all a huge joke. Rick would give everything he had to make that happen. But he couldn’t.

      Glancing at the passenger seat, he eyed the files Becca had requested. He should leave them for another day, but she had been insistent. Becca was a hairdresser, but also worked for Reliable Car Rental as their part-time accounts-receivable clerk. She knew as well as he did that the business needed to keep the cash flowing.

      But there was no way in hell he wanted to go back into that house today. No way he wanted to look into Becca’s eyes and see blank despair. Her stoic refusal to grieve had touched him more than a flood of tears. She was hurting, no doubt about it. And seeing her so lost and alone threatened his own tentative composure.

      Nodding, Rick started the engine, flicked on the heater and put the gearshift in Reverse.

      But he couldn’t seem to let his foot off the brake.

       Becca needed him.

      BECCA WAS BARELY aware of the tears streaming down her face. Or of the glass stinging her calves, leaving pinpricks of blood on her skin.

      The only thing she knew was that something immobilized her right arm.

      Trying to wrench away, she swung, ready to do battle with whoever stood between her and her mission.

      Rick’s hand tightened on her wrist. “No, Becca.”

      “Let me go.” She watched in horror as the palm of her left hand connected with his cheek. Felt the sting of flesh meeting flesh. And knew she’d never forgive herself, even if Rick did. But something propelled her movements, something she didn’t understand.

      He grasped both wrists. “Calm down.”

      “I don’t want to calm down.”

      Removing the tumbler from her hand, he set it on the counter.

      Becca’s fingers СКАЧАТЬ