She smiled and held open the front door for him. “There’s more coffee if you want.”
“I definitely want. Though how your father can drink that swill is beyond me.”
“He’s a man of plebian tastes.”
She said the word as a test. Would he understand the word “plebian”? It was a kind of measure of how much brain function he had just then. Apparently not enough because he frowned at her, then looked away, a flush staining his cheeks.
“Right,” he said, his voice flat. Still in Neanderthal mode.
She stepped inside, leaving the door open. He was staring hard at his phone, working the buttons slowly, but eventually picking up speed. What was he doing? How sane was he? Was she safe?
That last was the question that lingered in her thoughts. Given what she’d already seen of Mark, she guessed he was some form of bipolar, which meant that he could go nuts on her at any point. She ought to be grateful he’d gone into protective mode instead of aggressive. Which meant task one would be to get away from him.
But she didn’t feel threatened. Logic told her that she couldn’t trust that. But it also pointed out that Carl seemed to trust him completely. Wouldn’t he know if she was in danger? Wouldn’t he say something if his friend was off the rails?
She watched Mark labor over his text message. He was certainly not fast with the thing, but to be fair, neither was she. And he had larger thumbs than she did. Made it harder to text with ease.
Sighing at the chaos in her own brain, she finished off her mug of coffee and set about filling her stomach. Her father had to have something in here. But what she’d seen last night had been dismally thin.
She found some bread that hadn’t gone moldy and decided on her favorite breakfast of champions: peanut butter and jelly. She made one for herself, another for Mark. She also found her cell phone and called her sister for the update. Dad was doing fine. They’d find out today if could go home. She chatted while eating, keeping half an eye on the tense man on her front porch. For most of her call, he stood poised on the front step, but just before she hung up, he abruptly spun around and loped around the side of the house.
Probably another perimeter check or something. She finished with her sister and her own sandwich, then went out to her car to grab her suitcase. She’d been so tired yesterday, she hadn’t bothered fighting the rain to bring it in. But now it was morning and she needed to take a shower, not to mention setting up her stuff here. If Dad was discharged today, he’d be coming to this cabin—he’d insisted—so there was no point in her going back to the hospital. She’d do more good stocking his refrigerator and doing his laundry. God only knew when he’d last washed his sheets.
She’d just pulled on shorts and a tee when she heard Mark come into the cabin. She couldn’t deny the tightening in her gut at the sound of his heavy footfalls, but was it excitement or fear? What was the prudent course of action?
Annoyed with the whirling in her thoughts, she headed for her bathroom to brush her teeth and delay seeing him for another few minutes. But it didn’t help. All she did was churn through the same questions while her anxiety climbed another notch. Was she safe? Was he right, and there was really something dangerous out there? Why was she so attracted to him? Would he flip out on her?
She rinsed. Spit. Grabbed a dry towel and cleaned off. Then looked in the mirror and choked on her scream.
He stood right behind her. Large. His eyes intense and a little wild. And his whole body dwarfed her by many inches on all sides.
“Mark?” she managed in a quavering voice.
“You’re trying to make yourself afraid of me,” he said, his voice low and dark.
It was on her lips to deny it, but the way he was looking at her made her hold back the words. He wasn’t angry. He was hurt. “You confuse me,” she said honestly.
“I’d never hurt you.”
She swallowed. The way he said it, she believed him. But what was happening here was beyond weird. “I don’t know what you’re thinking. I can’t read you and?—”
He stepped closer, blocking her in on all sides. Her words ended on a squeak of alarm, but the rest of her heated at his nearness. She didn’t even have room to turn to face him. Then he leaned forward, his hands gripping the counter on either side of her. And his head bent down slowly to press lightly against the side of her head while the heat of his body seeped into her backside.
“I thought about you,” he said softly. “All night, I thought about when we were teens. About what we did and how I wanted you.” He swallowed. “And how I blew it.” He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. “I’m sorry, Julie. I was an ass.”
“I already forgave you yesterday. And long ago.”
She felt his body pressing against her, hot and hard. Not just his muscles, but the thickness between her butt cheeks. Their clothes did not mask his erection, and she was both terrified and aroused by the feel of him right there.
“I know I’m crazy,” he said against her temple. “I know I frighten you.”
She wanted to deny it, but couldn’t.
His eyes remained closed as he spoke, and so she watched the tight muscles of his face and felt the slow, steady pressure of his body against hers. “I’m dying, Julie. Literally. I won’t see the New Year. Probably won’t make it to October.”
She jolted. “What?” The idea that this vital man would be gone in a few months was completely alien to her. He was too strong, too much here for him to ever be gone. It made no sense. She started to twist to look at him, but his hands shifted to grip her hips and hold her in place.
“Don’t move. Let me explain.”
