If You Were Mine
Page 56

His eyes flashed with darkness before he pulled her so tightly to him that it almost hurt.
“I love you so much,” she told him in their last private moment before the track doctors, the other drivers, and the rest of the Sullivans descended. Heather didn’t want to let go of Zach’s hand, didn’t want to lose that connection, but she knew he’d be all hers later.
Believing he’d been spared from the car crash and fire so that they could have their forever, when his fingers started to slip free of hers, she let him go.
Chapter Thirty
After the emergency crew checked Zach out and he’d convinced his brothers and sisters that he was okay, Heather had known without being told that all he wanted was to get away from the race track. She’d thought she would be the one to drive home, but when he’d headed for the wheel she’d realized it was probably best that he dealt with driving a car sooner, rather than later.
There were so many things she wanted to say to him, so many things she wanted to tell him—how much she loved him and how she wasn’t sure about these races, but would try to be open to them in the future if they were really important to him—but just as she buckled into the passenger seat and they headed off toward the city, his mother called.
Mary Sullivan’s distress over the accident was palpable. And yet, Heather admired the calm that lay at the foundation of her love for her son. If Zach had seemed a bit short, even a little irritated with the mother Heather knew he loved, she figured it was one of a dozen natural responses to the crash. There had been so many people hovering around him wanting reassurance that he was okay. He had to be exhausted.
But even though she hadn’t been the one fighting like hell to right the car, and then to escape it, Heather still couldn’t find her own calm. It would take time to stop seeing the man she loved go up in flames every time she closed her eyes. And until that day came, she wanted to live every single minute with him to the fullest. She was done holding back a part of her heart from him, done waiting for that other shoe to drop.
Today she’d learned just how precious life—and love—truly was.
Standing in his kitchen cooking dinner, the knife almost sliced through the tip of Heather’s finger instead of the bell pepper as another image of Zach spinning out on the track zinged through her head. Just as she put the knife down, Zach walked out of the bedroom. His hair was wet from the shower, his perfect face scratched up and down the right side.
Thank God he was alive.
Despite her lingering distress over his crash, she couldn’t help smiling at him. The truth was that she’d always grinned like a fool whenever he was around. Only, Zach didn’t smile back.
It was the first time he’d ever not smiled back.
“Gabe’s coming over.”
She was surprised to hear he was up for a visit from one of his siblings when she could see how beat he was. “Is he going to bring over the rest of Cuddles’s things?”
“No.” The word shot like a bullet from his lips. “He’s coming to take her back.”
Even as he said it, Cuddles was rubbing against his calves trying to get his attention. But he wasn’t scooping her up into his arms.
Instead, he was ignoring the puppy completely. He wasn’t even looking at her.
“I don’t understand,” she said, and she didn’t, couldn’t possibly believe that he was serious. “You just told them you were keeping her.”
He shrugged, the shrug of a man who didn’t seem to care what he’d said to a seven-year-old girl...or what other promises he might have made along the way to anyone else.
“She’s better off with them. The dog needs a kid around to play with.”
The dog?
The way he said it was different than when he called Cuddles and Atlas mutts or fur balls. He was affectionate, teasing when he said those things. But this was just plain dismissive.
The paramedics had said he didn’t have a concussion. Had they been wrong?
“Zach.” She started to move toward him, but the remote expression on his face stopped her in her tracks. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He sat down on the couch and grabbed the remote, flipping on the TV. The sound of another car race immediately started up. Bile rose in her throat at the sight of the cars racing in circles around the track.
She wanted to scream at him, wanted to throw something at his big, thick head. Her feet unstuck from the kitchen floor and she yanked the controls off the coffee table to jam her thumb over the red Off button.
“I can’t watch that right now.” The TV screen went back to black. “How can you? Don’t you remember you almost died out there today?”
Before he could answer, Cuddles walked over with one of Zach’s leather shoes. The puppy plopped down in front of him and started chewing it, her big brown eyes trained on him as if she were waiting for a command to do otherwise.
“Aren’t you going to stop her?”
Zach barely glanced down at the puppy. “No. Summer will figure out how to get her to stop making mistakes.”
“She’s a puppy. She’s going to make mistakes.” But wasn’t the truth that some mistakes were so big that they couldn’t be undone? Like trusting someone to actually love you right. “She trusts you, Zach. Gabe and Megan and Summer are just strangers to her. You’re her family.”
And hers, too, or so she’d thought. Finally, she’d had the family she’d never thought could be hers. A future filled with laughter. And love. So much love it had made her head spin.
Now, though, it was spinning for reasons that had nothing to do with love.
Please, she thought, the word running around and around in her head just the way it had hours earlier. Only this time she wasn’t begging God, she was silently pleading with a flesh-and-blood man. Please don’t do this.
His face was like granite. “She’ll be fine.”
Every one of Heather’s instincts told her to run. To flee. To get out and protect whatever was left of her heart while she still could. But something was obviously wrong.
Very wrong.
Zach hadn’t cracked a smile, hadn’t given her one of those smug looks she always wanted to kiss right off his face.
And, she realized with a dark hit of pain in the pit of her stomach, he hadn’t so much as touched her since they’d left the track.
He was always touching her.
She forced herself to move toward him, rather than away. “There’s something you’re not telling me. Something that happened out there on the track.”