Twenty Wishes (Blossom Street #5)(93)

“That’s my stepdaughter,” Anne Marie told Mark.

“I might get to be in the wedding! Melissa said she needs a little girl to help serve the cake and Anne Marie said what about Ellen and Melissa said she thought that was a good idea.”

“I think it’s a grand idea myself.” Barbie knew the difficult relationship Anne Marie had with her stepdaughter and was delighted by the way things had changed.

They left, and Barbie sat down in one of the chairs vacated by her friends. “So,” she murmured, “you only had eyes for me last March, huh?” She reached for a leftover French fry and dipped it in ketchup.

Mark avoided her gaze. “I didn’t think you’d let that pass.”

“That was just the third time we met.” If it took all night, she’d force him to admit how he felt about her.

“And?”

“And you’re crazy about me,” she insisted.

“I already told you I’m willing to go along for the ride, however long it lasts.” His voice didn’t betray a hint of sentiment.

“Monday-night movies.”

He shrugged casually. “Sure.”

“Lap swims on Tuesday and Thursdays.”

He sloughed that off, as well. “We could both use the exercise.”

“Dinner at my house tonight.”

He hesitated. “Sure. Why not?”

Barbie took a crumpled hamburger wrapper and smoothed it out. Then with the ketchup-dipped fry, she drew a heart. “What am I getting out of this relationship?” she asked in conversational tones. “So far, I seem to be the one doing all the giving.”

Mark tensed. “I’ve asked myself that from the start. I told you anytime you want out, all you need to do is say the word.”

“Just like that?” she asked and snapped her fingers.

“Just like that,” Mark echoed, snapping his own.

“No regrets?”

“None,” he assured her.

“No explanations?”

He shook his head.

“No looking back, either.”

“Not on my end.”

“What if that isn’t enough for me?” she asked.

His face tightened and his eyes went hard. “Let’s clear the air right now.”

“Fine by me.”

“Exactly what do you want from me?” he demanded, none too gently.

Taking the same French fry, she scribbled out the heart. This discussion wasn’t one she’d intended to have and yet she couldn’t stop herself. Her pulse raced. She was afraid that by pressuring him for a response she’d put everything on the line. She’d chosen the one sure way to lose Mark.

“I’m not sure what I want,” she replied, unable to look at him.

“Yes, you are,” he countered, “otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“My list of wishes…” she said, and her voice faltered.

“Oh, yes, those Twenty Wishes you and your friends have.” His tone had a mocking quality, which made her furious.

“You might think they’re silly, but they’re not!” she insisted.

“I didn’t say they were,” he said calmly. He could be so difficult to talk to sometimes. Squaring her shoulders, she met his eyes. “Okay, I’ll tell you what I want.”

“Good. I was hoping you would.”

He wouldn’t like this. The truth would probably scare him off. Still, it was a risk Barbie had to take. “I want to be loved,” she said. There, it was out.

“By me?” he asked.

“You’re the one I love.” She might as well go for broke, and he could either reject her right now or accept her.

For a long time Mark didn’t say anything, and when he did, regret weighted each word. “I don’t want to love you,” he said slowly.

So that was how it was going to be.

Barbie swallowed painfully. Hard as it was, she’d rather he was honest. “Thank you for not leading me on,” she managed to say through quivering lips. She stood up to leave.

Mark caught her hand. “I don’t want to love you,” he repeated, “but I do.”

“You love me?” She could hardly believe it, yet she knew it was true. He let his love shine from his eyes and his fingers tightened around hers.

“I have practically from the first moment I saw you at that theater.”

“You tried to kick me out, remember?”

“That’s because you scared me to death,” he said wryly. “But regardless of what I said or did, you wouldn’t go away.”

She offered him a shaky smile and sat back down, dragging her chair close to him, their knees touching.

“Then before I knew it,” Mark muttered, his eyes closed, “I was dreaming about you.”

Barbie savored every word.

“For the first time since the accident, I’d wake up each morning with a sense of…hope. I’d go to the movies and hope you’d stay away and at the same time, I’d hope you’d show up—and then I’d curse myself for being so stupid. Acting like that, I was just looking for more heartache.”

Breathless, Barbie didn’t trust herself to speak. This was everything she’d craved, everything she wanted to hear.