Page 56

JEN

MY MOUTH OPENEDto speak, but nothing came out. The fading light from outside cast a shadow on his face from where he stood near the window, giving him a slightly sinister look.

“Ahh,” he said, satisfaction almost pouring out of his pores. “I see he left that detail out, didn’t he?”

I crossed my arms. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“That boy killed his mama just as sure as you’re standing in front of me.”

“Tyler? I think you have your facts all wrong. He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“Well, he did. Just as selfish as he could be, breaking her heart and throwing away everything she wanted for him.” His eyes grew almost black as he zeroed in on his prosecution.

“Explain,” I demanded.

“I heard him that day, telling his mama he didn’t want to be a professional musician, that he wanted to be something different, maybe a doctor. So she died, and he got what he wanted.”

“What he wanted!” I exploded. “You think he wanted his mother dead? Do you hear yourself? Do you know how much guilt he carries around, feeling that if he’d done something different that day than she might still be here?”

“He’s right!” he thundered back at me. “He upset her. He raised her blood pressure, and that caused the aneurysm to erupt.”

I threw my hands in the air. “That’s just ridiculous,” I spluttered. “I’m sorry, Mr. Cranston. Your wife was a walking time bomb. Tyler didn’t cause her death. A defect in her head did. One that no one knew about. It was a horrible event with horrible timing, but that’s all it was. It could have happened when she was preparing dinner, or getting dressed, or practicing. Or it could have even happened while she attended one of your fancy functions. Would that have made it your fault?”

“He brought her joy that I couldn’t,” he spluttered, ignoring my last statement. “He should have continued playing, knowing how much he pleased her. Instead, he broke her heart.”

I was so mad I’m surprised one of my own blood vessels didn’t burst. “He was achild, barely a young man trying to find his way,” I grated. “No child should have that burden placed on him. It wasn’t his job to make her happy. That,” I glared and pointed at him, “was your job.”

He turned pale. “How dare you.”

I moved closer to his desk that he hid behind. “I dare because no one else did over ten years ago.” I leaned forward and flattened my hands on his desk. “You’re so swallowed up by your own guilt that you’ve missed what a wonderful man Tyler has grown into. It might not have been the path you or his mother may have chosen for him, but she wanted him to be happy. He saves lives almost every day, Mr. Cranston. And not one of those days does he not remember his mother and wish he’d been able to save her. So put that in your pipe and smoke it. And while you’re at it, I’d appreciate if you’d keep your menace of a wife from hitting on my boyfriend.”

I turned on my heel and stomped back to the door, opening it with a jerk and running face first into something hard and unyielding. For a second, I thought maybe I’d been so blinded by anger I had actually managed to walk into the wooden closure until I blinked to bring everything back into focus. The door turned out to be Tyler, who filled the doorway on the hallway side, his arms braced on either side of the frame. His rigid posture told me he’d been privy to every word spoken. “Tyler,” I whispered, horrified he’d heard his father’s hateful accusations. His eyes were closed but slowly opened at my startled gasp. He stared, unblinking, at me for a full minute. I tried to read what was behind those whiskey-colored eyes, but I couldn’t.

“I think we’re done here,” he said quietly. He clasped my hand and pulled me away from the study. No one tried to stop us as we walked out of the house. It wasn’t until we were both seated inside his car that I tried to apologize for antagonizing his father.

“Tyler, I’m—”

He reached across the console and grabbed the back of my neck. I barely had time to register the movement of his head until his lips crushed mine. I maybe couldn’t read his mind, but I could feel the rawness of his kiss. I didn’t move except to cup his face as I accepted the bruising pressure. I didn’t blame him for being angry. I’d been rude and challenged his father on a sensitive issue, and one that wasn’t any of my business. My gentle stroke on his face must have awakened his awareness of how harsh he was, because he eased back, easily coaxing me to participate as he ran his tongue over my lips. We continued to sit in his dad’s driveway, kissing as if nothing out of the ordinary had just taken place. I lost myself in the kiss, reveling in it. Eventually, Tyler tamed the kiss, running butterfly kisses across my cheek and down until his head was buried in the crook of my neck. His hand at my neck entwined in my hair, and I felt him take in several deep breaths.

“You were magnificent,” he mumbled against my skin.

“Hmm?” My mind was still reeling from the way only he could make me feel.

“No one has fought for me for a long while, not since I was that gawky young, teenage boy standing next to the lockers. Very few people have stood up to my father, and even fewer have struck him speechless.”

“Really? Why’s that do you suppose? He’s just a man. A very infuriating one, but just a man.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I’d like to see you inform him of that.” He chuckled. “Then again, perhaps that’s what you just did.” His expression sobered. “Thank you.” His words, though quietly spoken, were said with such sincerity and matched by his expression. He brushed his knuckles down my cheek. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“See what no one else does; to get what motivates me as a doctor, understand what it was like for me as a boy.

“It’s not hard. Not when you see yourself as I do.”

“And how’s that?” He looked at me with real interest.

I played with the hair near his temple. “Selfless, talented, hard-working, loving, generous, strong, smart, persistent, forgiving . . .”

He leaned into my touch. “Wow, that’s all?” he teased, rubbing his nose against mine.

I grinned, “Oh, and there’s sexy and a bit nerdy, too. Can’t forget those. They’re two of my favorites.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Not words that often go together, but I like them.” His voice grew huskier. “What do you say we go home, and I’ll impress you with scientific nerd talk as I describe in detail everything I want to do you in bed?” He waggled his eyebrows. “And perhaps you can return the favor with some yoga moves for me.”

A movement in a front window caught our attention. A hand held back a curtain revealing Natalie’s scowling face.

I turned my back in her direction and squeezed his hand. “Sounds like a deal. Let’s go home,” I said, loving the word.