Название: The Other Woman's Son
Автор: Darlene Gardner
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Cherish
isbn: 9781472061157
isbn:
She tried to mentally talk herself out of being disappointed that Kenny hadn’t called. Instead, she’d think about how his presence would help her avoid worrying about the future while she was hooked up to the dialysis machine.
Fifteen minutes after he was supposed to arrive, Kenny’s red Mustang convertible finally swung into the driveway. Even from inside the house, Darcy could hear rock music blaring from the car stereo.
She gathered up her backpack and went quickly out the door, striving to convey an eagerness to get the treatment over with. She was loath to let anyone, even Kenny, know how much she dreaded it.
He met her halfway up the driveway, looking like a college coed’s dream in sunglasses, khaki shorts, a University of Tennessee T-shirt and flip-flops. The sun had kissed the ends of his brown hair, and his tanned skin glowed with health and vitality.
“Hey, gorgeous.”
That was Kenny, Darcy thought. The king of charm, able to sound sincere even though Darcy realized she’d probably never looked worse.
“Hey, Kenny.”
He leaned down to close the eight-inch gap in their heights and kissed her on the mouth, the contact brief and almost chaste. She got a whiff of a peppermint breath mint before he took the backpack dangling from her hand. “Ready to go?”
She summoned her smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
He opened the passenger door, dumping the backpack in the backseat before stepping aside to let her in and closing the door. Like a true gentleman. That had been one of the things that attracted her to him in the first place.
They’d met at the University of Tennessee after she brushed too close to a display of texts at the campus bookstore. The stack had toppled, raining tomes onto the floor. Kenny helped her pick them up, making her laugh by apologizing for not noticing disaster was imminent. He’d carried her purchases to the cash register, claiming the only thing he’d accept as thanks was a date. They’d been together ever since.
A bonus in dating Kenny was that he lived not even ten miles away, which would enable them to see each other as often as they liked now that the spring semester was over.
“How’d the canoe trip go?” she asked after he slowed the Mustang to a crawl to give a sanitation truck room to pass on the narrow road.
“It was a blast.” He turned the radio down slightly. “You’ve met Harv, right? Tall, skinny guy with long sideburns and a soul patch. He told us he’d been on the river plenty of times. First thing he does is steer the damn thing straight into a huge rock. We hit so hard, I fell off my seat.
“Then he hangs us up on some smaller rocks and has the bright idea to get out of the canoe to jostle us loose. So me and the canoe are drifting downstream and Harv’s swimming as fast as he can behind to catch up. Jake and B.B. were laughing so hard they couldn’t row.”
Kenny kept up a lively commentary the entire drive to the transplant center, which featured its own dialysis facilities. He didn’t seem to notice Darcy had to make an effort to laugh. She was almost glad when they pulled up to the center, because she didn’t think she could fake it much longer.
Bypassing the parking lot, he pulled up to the horseshoe-shaped curb in front of the building and put the Mustang into Park. Darcy’s muscles froze, rebelling at the prospect of walking into the building alone.
“You don’t have to let me off here.” She kept her voice light. “From what I remember, everybody’s pretty understanding if you show up a few minutes past appointment time. So I can walk with you from the parking lot.”
“About that…” His voice trailed off, then started up again. “B.B’s starting his new job Wednesday. He didn’t get a chance to move his stuff into his new apartment yet because of the canoe trip. So I kind of told him I’d help him. You don’t mind, do you?”
Her throat constricted, preventing speech. She managed to move her head, but she wasn’t sure in what direction.
“Didn’t think you would.” His voice got louder, more cheerful. “It’s not like I can do anything when you’re on that machine but sit there.”
His dark sunglasses rendered it impossible for her to read his eyes and figure out how he’d arrived at that stunningly bad conclusion.
“But—” she began.
“So what time should I pick you up?” He tapped the clock on the dashboard, which showed a few minutes past ten o’clock. “How about one-thirty? If that’s not good, call me on my cell.”
She nodded wordlessly and got stiffly out of the car, as though she were a robot somebody had programmed to move. She barely acknowledged the short beep of the horn as he drove away.
Her lower lip trembled so much that she caught it with her upper teeth to still it. She’d counted on Kenny to help get her through this first treatment, but now she had to face it alone.
She put one foot in front of the other, drawing inexorably closer to the center. A handsome older man who looked like Kenny might in twenty years opened the door for her. She tried to smile when she stated her thanks, but couldn’t.
The faint smell of antiseptic that she associated with the center hit her like a blast from a fan when she stepped into the lobby. Her steps slowed. She couldn’t do this. Not by herself.
She blindly whirled back toward the exit, nearly plowing into a tall, solidly built man. He reached out his arms, placing them on her shoulders to steady her.
“You all right, Darcy?”
She blinked until the moisture that had started to gather in her eyes cleared and the man’s face came into view. Clay, her brother, a deep V of concern drawing his dark brows together.
“What are you doing here?” she blurted out.
“What kind of question is that to ask your big brother? I’m here to keep you company.” The smile he wore looked even less genuine than the ones she usually pasted on. His gaze flickered over the lobby. “Where’s Mom?”
“You know how she gets in places like this. I convinced her not to come because Kenny would be with me.”
“Then where’s Kenny?”
Darcy swallowed, unable to tell him how Kenny had bolted. “He’ll be by to pick me up.”
His expression hardened, and she got the strong impression he’d heard what she hadn’t said. “No need for that. I’ll still be here when you’re finished.”
Relief flooded through her like water cascading over a broken dam. But she couldn’t ask Clay to spend four hours holding her hand, not when he already did so much for her.
“You don’t have to stay, you know. I’ll be just fine,” she said, her tone less convincing than she would have liked. “I understand you have a business to run.”
“My business can wait.” Flinging an arm around her shoulders, he steered her toward the elevator.
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