Until There Was You(56)

When they reached his place, she got out and opened Liam’s door. “Time for bed, tough guy,” she said, and he got out carefully. He stood there a minute, not quite steadily, and she slid her arm around his waist—his lean, warm waist.

“You doing okay?” she asked, trying not to think dirty thoughts.

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, leaning into her, and those dirty thoughts surged. Even through her layers of flannel, she could feel the heat of his skin. Glancing down, she saw that beautiful torso again. Perfection. Utter masculine perfection. Except for the rib she’d cracked.

“Back in a few, Shilo,” she said, her voice a bit unsteady. Shilo gave a snore in response. Liam seemed to be getting heavier as they rode up in the elevator. “Your hair smells pretty,” he said, and her girl parts gave a warm squeeze.

Mrs. Antonelli’s door remained mercifully closed, though Posey could well imagine her on the other side, watching through the peephole. “Got the keys, Liam?”

“In my pocket,” he said. His eyes were closed.

Feeling quite perverted, she reached into his pocket. Do not cop a feel, she warned herself. It was difficult to avoid, but she tried. She unlocked the door. Déjà vu all over again, except this time, Liam was the one who was, er, incapacitated. She steered him down the same hallway he had carried her a few weeks ago, into a different room this time. His room.

The bed was covered with a dark brown comforter, very manly, and you could tell it was a guy’s room because it lacked all those touches a wife would’ve given it. On the night table was a photo of Nicole, a gorgeous black-and-white shot of her on a swing. Another black-and-white photo of Nicole on the beach sat on top of the dresser. Aside from that, the room was pretty stark.

Liam pulled back the covers and collapsed on the bed with a groan. Posey pulled off his shoes and covered him up. She was tucking in Liam Murphy, the stuff of many a teenage fantasy. Maybe she’d go home and write about it in her Hello Kitty diary, then watch Luke Perry movies…or she could remember that she was thirty-three years old and wise up.

“Can I get you anything?” she asked. “Want me to call your daughter or leave her a note or something?” She paused. “Or I could stay and tell her when she gets home.”

“You can go. But don’t tell Nicole.”

“Tell her you cracked a rib? Because I think she’ll be able to see that you’re uncomfortable, Liam. Since you’re such a baby and all.”

He smiled faintly, not opening his eyes. “I’ll tell her about the rib. Maybe. Just not the panic stuff.”

“Have you always been scared of elevators? My brother’s afraid of cats.”

“I’m not scared of elevators,” he said, eyes still closed. “I’m scared I’ll die and she’ll be all alone.”

The words caught her heart by surprise. Posey opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. “You won’t die, Liam. I mean, you will, of course, we all will…but not for a long time.”

“Except I almost did. I laid down my bike last fall.”

“You… Does that mean you were in an accident?” He nodded. “Were you okay?”

Liam finally looked at her, his eyes bleary. “Yeah. But it was close, you know. The cop said he expected a… What’s that word? When people die?”

“A fatality?”

“Yeah. ’Cause my bike was all…you know. Wrecked.”

“What happened?”

His eyelids were apparently too heavy to keep open. “I was on the freeway. Some guy in a Porsche tried to…” His hand flopped. “You know.”

“Pass?”

“Yeah. That’s it. Pass. And next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground in the breakdown lane, and my bike was all—” he made a twisting motion with his hands “—crushed. But I got…” Another hand gesture.

“Thrown?”

“Yep.”

“Were you wearing a helmet?” she asked.

“I’d be dead without a helmet,” he murmured. “Even so, concussion and stuff. But I’m not gonna tell you that, because I’m not telling anybody about that.”

Posey bit her lip. “Okay. I won’t know about it then.”

“Good. Because it’s a secret.”

Or it would be without the truth serum that had apparently been administered along with the painkillers. He shifted and winced a little.

Crikey. Imagine being in a near-fatal accident and not telling anyone. Maybe—just maybe—he didn’t have anyone to tell.

That thought sat in Posey’s brain for a beat or two, throbbing. Imagine living with the fear that if anything happened to you, your child would have no one. He’d said that’s why they’d moved back to New Hampshire…to be closer to Nicole’s grandparents. He just hadn’t said, “in case I die.”

There was a strange ache in Posey’s chest.

“Can you get me a pillow?” the patient asked.

“There are two right next to you.”

“You have to be nice. You broke me.”

“I’m very nice, Liam, and I didn’t break you, I cracked you. Just one bone, too, so let’s not exaggerate. You have two hundred and five other bones that are perfectly fine.” Nevertheless, she walked over to the other side of the bed and got a pillow.