LITMIR.BIZ

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the bathroom.

      “I won’t come in and attack you. You’re safe with me.” She registered his hurt tone at being silently questioned; she’d already seen that he was a decent man.

      Gracie entered the small bathroom and closed the door behind her. She locked it. Wrong. That only added insult to injury. In an act so foreign to her that it required a leap of faith she hadn’t taken since she’d run away six years ago, she unlocked the door. Right.

      * * *

      AUSTIN HEARD THE lock click and disappointment hit him. Then Gracie unlocked it and he smiled. Progress. He listened to the shower turn on and stay on for a long time; Gracie must be making full use of the hot water. Good. She needed it and it would give him a chance to call his mom. He picked up his cell, but didn’t dial right away, just stared at the wall, steeling himself.

      Tension that hadn’t been there five minutes ago tightened his neck. He rolled his shoulders, but it didn’t ease.

      He should have checked in earlier. Should. Too much of his relationship with his mom was clouded with too many shoulds.

       Well, you didn’t call earlier, so quit with the guilt trip and do it now.

      No phone call had ever been tougher to make. A moment later, she answered.

      “Hey, Mom. It’s me.”

      Silence. What else had he expected? People didn’t change overnight just because others wanted them to.

      “How are you? Did Deputy Turner stop by today?”

      A long hesitation followed, but he wouldn’t break it. The ball was in her court.

      Finally, he heard, “He came by,” in the small voice he knew too well. He could hear the subtext as clearly as a bell: I’m helpless. I need you.

      It tugged at him, but he hardened himself.

      “Good. I’m glad he visited.”

      “He didn’t bring me anything.”

      “No reason he should. The milk would still be good. You’ll have enough fresh fruit and vegetables for the next few days.”

      “He said you shouldn’t have gone and left me alone.”

      Austin doubted that. Turner had been one of the ones urging him to get away. Mom must have misinterpreted something the deputy said. Deliberately, no doubt.

      “Mother.” Austin kept his tone firm. “You’re not an invalid. You’re only fifty. You can take care of yourself. You have no diseases, no dementia.”

      She made a sound that was hard to characterize. It might have been a humph. He’d called her on her so-called helplessness in the past, and yet he still took care of her.

       Breathe deeply. Hold. Exhale the guilt.

      “Listen, I have to go,” he said. “I’m meeting Finn for dinner.”

      “Go. Have fun.” Her clipped words came out loaded with resentment.

      Holding his anger in check, Austin decided he’d better cut the call short. “I’ll call again tomorrow. Good night, Mom.”

      He tossed the phone onto the bed. Better than throwing it at the wall.

      For years, he’d been trying to rehabilitate his mother, to prop her up, and he was exhausted from taking care of her. It had to end soon. He was sick of it. She—

      A sound of distress from the bathroom caught his attention.

      Gracie! In her weakened state, had she fallen? He barged in.

CHAPTER THREE

      GRACIE STOOD BENT over the toilet with a towel wrapped around her, shivering and retching.

      As far as Austin could tell, nothing was coming up.

      “You must be pretty well cleaned out by now.” He rubbed her back, all of the knobs and bones and sharp edges along her spine. Too bad she’d lost her lunch. She sure needed the calories.

      Austin grasped her shoulders and held her steady while she retched some more. “Don’t think you’re going to lose anything else. I think you’re done.”

      She nodded. “Why are you in here?”

      “Heard you retching.”

      “Crap on a broomstick,” she said like it was some kind of badass imprecation. Austin grinned until she burst into tears.

      Aw, goddamn, he hated to see a woman cry. He held her and patted her back awkwardly, because this wasn’t how he usually held a woman. He never hugged strangers. At least she was clean now and smelled like flowers and coconut.

      She hiccupped and cursed again. “I don’t do this,” she said and he could tell she wanted to sound fierce. Hard to do when her teeth chattered like a pair of maracas.

      “Don’t do what?” He led her into the bedroom.

      “I don’t cry. Ever. I haven’t in...” He wasn’t sure but he thought she was doing calculations in her head. “Six years. I haven’t cried in six years. This is so dumb.”

      He rummaged in his bag and pulled out a hoodie and a T-shirt. “Put these on.”

      He turned his back while she dressed.

      She hissed, “Don’t go thinking I’m weak just because I cried.” He heard the zipper rasp on his hoodie.

      When he turned back to her, her cheeks were bright red, hot against her pale skin. Nothing worse than having a woman cry and then having her get angry ’cause you saw her doing it.

      “I don’t think you’re weak.” He watched her dig through her bag until she came out with a comb. “You’re one of the strongest women I’ve met.”

      From the way she looked at him, she didn’t know what to do with his compliment. She entered the bathroom and he followed. She dropped the comb into the sink and poured a few drops of body wash on it.

      Good. He’d hate to see her using something dirty to comb her clean hair.

      “What was the crying about?”

      She studied him in the mirror, pale eyes challenging, embarrassed but tough. “That food wasted. I needed it, really need the nutrition. It’s been a rough couple of days.”

      More than a couple, he guessed.

      Her face went hard-edged, as though she had to be superstrong now that he’d seen her vulnerable.

       Note to self, Austin. Do not, I repeat, do not show pity.

      Man, she was tough. A couple of the women he’d dated in Ordinary would have played the pity card for all it was worth. Not this woman.

      “I need to brush my teeth.” Her stomach made gurgling noises. “I’d better not go out to dinner.”

      Despite the sadness lurking in her eyes, the clear regret at missing another meal, Austin kept his tone neutral, saying only, “I don’t think you should, either. Stay here.”

      He left the bathroom and heard her brush her teeth. While she finished cleaning up, he called room service. She might not be able to go out for supper, but she should eat something, or she would be starving by morning.

      * * *

      GRACIE LEFT THE BATHROOM, wishing she could hide in there all night.

      How humiliating to have cried in front of Austin. She hadn’t cried since she’d learned of Jay’s infidelity. Once she’d gotten that out of her system, she hadn’t planned to ever cry again for the rest of her life.

      So why today? And why in front of a stranger?

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