“Hey.”
Surprised, he straightens out and blushes, pasting on a friendly smile and dropping one hand into his pocket. “Hi. Sorry. I saw your name and couldn’t help myself.”
I set Poppy on the floor and watch her dart across the room and around to tangle herself between Darcy’s feet, then I snag my boots and step into them. I pull one on and drag the zipper up. Then the second. Drag the zipper up. Straightening out, I head across the room and spy Liam’s kind eyes peeking out from a drawing at the top of the stack.
Uncertainty envelops me as I bring my focus back up again. “I learned more about him this morning.”
“Yeah?” Darcy meanders around the couch and moves to the door, pulling it open to reveal the miserable, rainy day outside. “Good or bad?”
“Good. And bad.” I shrug and stop by the door, holding the handle so he can pass and I can pull it closed behind me. “Sad. Interesting.”
“Lots of emotions.” He wanders to the edge of the porch and waits for me to lock up, then, when I meet him at the top of the steps, he meets my eyes and grins. “I don’t have an umbrella, and I can’t bring the car closer unless I drive on Doctor Darling’s lawn. I don’t think he’d like that.”
I cough out a soft laugh and shake my head. “Probably shouldn’t do that.”
He reaches across and takes my hand, wrapping his palm around mine and holding on just tight enough to send a spear of electricity to the base of my stomach. “Ready to run for it?”
“Uh—”
“Let’s go!” He dashes down the steps, tugging me in his wake, and sprints across the lawn. Using his free hand, he beeps his car unlocked, and reaching it before me, he swings the door wide and slings me in until I hit the dry interior with athwump. Rain pours against the roof of the car, the loud clatter hitting the metal frame until, somewhere in the back of my mind, I recall another rainy day.
Another heavy storm, the droplets bouncing off the blacktop.
Slamming the door and dashing around to the driver’s side, he slips in and starts the engine, pumping the warm air on high and rubbing his hands together in front of the vent. “I loathe to sound like a grump, but man, I hate rainy days.” He exhales into his palms and watches me in his peripherals. Smiling with his lips. With his eyes. “Everyone insists on romanticizing it; dancing in the rain, watching the rain from the comfort of your porch.” He shakes his head. “All I think when I’m looking at the rain is the deadlines it pushes back at work. How it creates puddles, and if you’re not paying attention, you’ll step into it and get your socks wet.” He surprises me and reaches across for my seatbelt, dragging it over my torso and fastening the clip into the catch. “You used to hate it too, especially after your parents’ accident.”
“Really?” My stomach tingles and jumps, adrenaline pulsing in my veins as he fixes his seatbelt and slips the gear into reverse. Then I set my phone in my lap, resting it on my pressed-together thighs, screen side up, as Billy’s name waits. His email calls to me. “What has the rain got to do with my parents’ accident?”
“It was raining that night. Their tires slipped in the wet.”
No, it wasn’t.
Frowning, I swing my gaze across and study the side of his face, his freshly shaved jaw, and the sharp cut of his sideburns only a barber could’ve put there. Or a man with several mirrors and a steady hand. “Really?” I slide my phone unlocked and navigate to the app Ollie installed before he even gave me the device. The one that shows his face inside a bubble, telling me when he’s at the hospital. Or at the store. At the gym. In the truck and on his way home… which he isn’t right now. And then I look atmyface in a bubble, but it’s grayed out. Because he didn’t want to violate my privacy and set itonfor me. Swallowing, I exit the app and swipe to Billy’s email, but I chew on the inside of my lip and glance Darcy’s way. “I don’t always have the best memory since my accident, and recalling details can get tricky sometimes. But I read that report just this morning. I don’t remember rain being mentioned.”
“They must’ve got it wrong.” Straightening the wheel and sliding the gear into drive, he shrugs and increases our speed, the wipers frantically whipping across the windshield to combat the rain. “Have you and Doctor Darling been sleeping together for long?”
Stunned, I startle back like his words are a physical jab. “What?”
He laughs. “Men don’t invite women into their home just to be friends, Rose. And as someone who has long appreciated your beauty, I recognize when another feels the same.” He peeks my way, his lips flat and firm to match his eyes. “You’ll understand how uncomfortable I am with the situation, I’m sure. It’s understandable that you feel affection for the doctorwho saved your life. They have a name for that, actually. Florence Nightingale Syndrome.”
“No,actually.” I scowl. “Florence Nightingale Syndrome refers to when a doctor develops romantic feelings for their patient. A patient falling for their doctor is called transference.”
“Before your accident, and after.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You never pass up an opportunity to correct a man when he’s wrong.”
I glance out the window and watch as we pass the hospital. So close, and yet so far away from where I want to be. “Turn left up here. The diner is?—”
He blows past the turn and continues across town, his jaw clenching and releasing in my peripherals.
“Darcy—”
“It’s not your fault you’re confused.” He lays his hand on my knee, squeezing just tight enough to make me sick. “You’ve been through a lot over the last couple of years. When I saw you on the news, I considered your memory loss a kind of mercy.”
“Darcy, stop the car.” I brush his hand away with one hand and fist my phone with the other. “I want to get out now.”
“You were so sad after everything you’d lost. You couldn’t drag yourself out of your depression, and when Liam died, you?—”
“Liam died?” I whimper. “How? How do you know?”
“Your memories hurt you,” he groans. “Now they’re gone.” He places his hand on my leg again, smiling with a kind of feral possession in his expression. “I consider your accident a sign directly from the universe, because I could tell you knew what I’d done, Rose. I thought I’d lost you forever. But now, the slate’s been wiped clean.”
