‘Mercy?’ Gideon’s voice broke, drawing her mind away from Rafe’s scent. ‘Tell me you’re all right.’
‘I’m fine. I promise. I’m not bleeding anymore.’
‘Where are you, exactly?’
‘In an SUV. The backseat. Right side.’
There was a huff, then a shaky laugh. ‘Right. I forgot. Miss Literal. I guess you must not be too hurt or you couldn’t make jokes.’
Mercy wasn’t joking. She’d simply answered his question, but after giving it a few seconds’ thought, she could see where he might have thought she was joking. She’d never quite gotten the hang of humor.
‘Right. I’m only a little hurt, like I said.’ She hesitated, then pushed forward. ‘I came back to see you. To . . . explain some things. Can we schedule a time to meet? I know you must be busy—’
‘Mercy, stop. There is nothing that is more important to me than seeing you. I’m already in my car.’
‘With me, Mercy!’ a female voice called out. Daisy. ‘Hi!’
The memory of Gideon’s fearless girlfriend made Mercy smile. The woman bubbled joy. ‘Hi, Daisy.’
‘We’re on our way to the Sokolovs’ house,’ Gideon went on. ‘If that’s okay.’
Her smile faded. No, no, no. It was not okay. I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready. But Rory was purring in her arms and Rafe was smiling at her encouragingly. ‘Yes, of course. I mean, if it’s okay with the Sokolovs.’
‘It is,’ Gideon said with the assurance of someone who knew he was always welcome.
Mercy had that with the Romeros. And with her brother. Her other brother, anyway. The half brother whose green eyes matched her own.
And Gideon’s. It was time she told her brother that she’d found their father’s family. And admitted that she’d hidden the information because . . . I’m selfish.
‘Then I guess I’ll see you soon. Bye.’ She handed the phone back to Rafe, cuddling Rory closer, nuzzling his soft fur. His purr was a relaxing sound on a good day.
This wasn’t a good day. Dread hung heavy, weighing her down like a lead apron.
‘Yep,’ Rafe was saying. ‘Plan on staying for dinner. Mom will be happy to have a full house.’ He ended the call and reached out again, stroking Rory with tentative fingers. ‘It will be okay, Mercy.’
She forced a smile. ‘Of course it will.’ She drew a deep breath. Be brave. ‘And for you,’ she murmured, because she needed him to know.
He leaned in closer, his scent a balm to her frayed senses. ‘For me?’ he whispered.
She nodded. ‘I came back for Gideon. But also for you.’ To tell you that this will never work out. She needed to say those words, too. But the look on his face had her mouth closing, blocking the grim pronouncement.
It was a wonder that he didn’t light up the entire vehicle, his grin was so bright. He was . . . golden.
But his voice was still barely audible when he replied, ‘I hoped so. I missed you.’
She hadn’t cried during the whole airport fiasco, not while the police were asking her questions, not while the crowd of people craned their necks to see who she was and why she was causing such a stir. But those three little words had her eyes burning. I missed you.
She’d missed him, too. His smile, his quiet happiness, his laughter. The way he made her feel like she was . . . enough. She turned her head before he could see her tears, but she was too late.
Or he was simply too observant, because a soft handkerchief was pushed into her hand. ‘It’s clean.’
She choked on a laugh. ‘Thank you.’
He leaned back in his seat, looking like the cat that got the cream. On other men it would look conceited and smug. On Rafe, it looked happy.
He missed me.
She wasn’t sure what it meant. Wasn’t sure that she should even allow him to feel such things. But she didn’t want him to stop. She wanted to lean into him, to draw from his strength, to warm herself with the heat that he put out. He was like a furnace.
But she didn’t.
She wasn’t made to give effortless affection like he did. Maybe I never will. Maybe after Ephraim’s abuse, she’d never be normal. Fury at Ephraim Burton suddenly bubbled and boiled over. She wished she’d killed him.
He touched me. Cut me. Was going to take me back to Eden. And I was going to let him. She’d allowed him to lead her away, a lamb to slaughter, and she hadn’t even tried to fight.
That made her angrier, but the anger was at herself, and she deflated. I’m so tired.
And then something warm brushed her elbow and she looked down to see that Rafe had placed his hand on the bench seat, palm up, about three inches from her hip. Just there, no pressure.
Hers to take. If she wanted.
And she wanted. Loneliness swelled, taking her by surprise.
Be brave. Be a different Mercy. It doesn’t have to mean anything more than comfort. Just like Rory gives.
Which actually was humorous. How ridiculous. The comfort she got from her cat was nothing like what she could get from Rafe Sokolov. But at least I can do humor. Her lips curled upward and she readjusted the cat so that her hand was free. Carefully she placed her palm on his, her shoulders sagging when he twined their fingers together. It was real. And secure.
He never said a word. Never even indicated that they were touching. Except for the tiny squeezes that he gave her every few minutes or so, until Sasha pulled the SUV into the Sokolovs’ driveway.
‘We’re home,’ Sasha announced. ‘The kitties can chill in my old bedroom unless you need to hold one when Gideon comes.’
Ah. Sasha had figured out that Mercy’s cats helped reduce her anxiety, much like Daisy’s service dog, Brutus, a tiny papillon mix. That wasn’t a big surprise, though. Sasha was a social worker. Empathy was her stock-in-trade.
‘I think I’ll be okay without them,’ Mercy said, and Rafe gave her hand another little squeeze before letting her go to open his car door.
‘I hope you’re hungry,’ he said. ‘I texted Mom that we were coming with guests. She’s cooking.’
‘I’m starving,’ Farrah said lightly. ‘What is she cooking?’
Sasha shrugged. ‘Something Russian. Whatever it is, it’ll be amazing. Farrah, can you take the other cat? I’ll get the litter boxes and food. You need your chair, Rafe?’
‘No. I’m good.’ He swung his legs from the SUV, leaning on his cane as his feet hit the pavement. ‘Better hustle, Mercy. Dinner is waiting and we are not very polite. You snooze, you lose around here.’