Lucky Streak (24 page)

“I know. I'm sure it was the stress of being in public with Clara, the reporters surrounding them…”

“Finding out about Gabrielle's pregnancy, Amber leaving, you going after her because she was in trouble,” Derek continued. “Your father's had a lot to deal with today in the one area of his life he doesn't cope with well.”

Mike nodded. “I'm just glad he'd okay. I've made an appointment for him with Dr. Shelby.”

“You might not need to go. Dr. Shelby was called in to consult. She's going to evaluate him before they let him go home, assuming the rest of the tests come back negative, too.”

Mike exhaled a long breath. “I need to see him.”

Derek pointed to the closed curtain. “They gave him something to calm him down and he's sleeping. Gabrielle's standing watch outside as you can see, and Clara's sitting beside him inside.”

“I take it there was no telling her ‘family only'?” Mike asked, laughing. The other woman had reinvaded his father's life and obviously decided she was staying.

Mike was grateful. His father needed someone to love him. After all his years alone, he deserved that. Mike just hoped Edward would be able to enjoy it someday.

“I hate to bring this up, but what happened with Amber?” Derek asked.

Mike shook his head, still in shock himself. “When it rains, it pours, my cousin.” He filled Derek in on the events of the last hour, including how Amber had taken off before they could connect.

“In other words, she bolted before you had the guts to face her.”

He laughed at Derek's uncanny accuracy. “That's right. Now shut the hell up and let me think.”

“About?”

“About the fact that I can't get out there until I get Edward settled. Which means Amber's going to have a three-day bus ride to build up her walls and begin to hate my guts.” His stomach tightened at the unavoidable thought.

Derek hung his arm around Mike's shoulder in a how of support. “Look, she's smarter than you are. Maybe she won't hold it against you.”

“Funny. She's female, isn't she?”

Derek grinned. “Last time I looked.”

“Then she'll hold it against me,” Mike said. He'd earned any grudge Amber chose to hold on to.

She'd offered him everything and he'd turned her away. Why would she believe in him now?

 

T
HREE DAYS AFTER
Edward was admitted and evaluated, Dr. Shelby discharged him. Mike was relieved and met the doctor in his father's room when she told him the good news.

“Mr. Corwin, we'll be releasing you today,” Dr. Shelby said to Edward, who was sitting up in his hospital bed. “I'm sorry it took this episode for us to meet. But as I explained to your son earlier, I'd like to start you on a medication for mild anxiety. We'll meet at my office next week and see how you're doing on it, if that's okay. I'm hopeful that with weekly visits and the proper medication, we can improve how you've been feeling,” she said.

Edward, normally blustery and talkative, remained sullen and quiet.

“Dad?” Mike sat down on the chair close to the side of the bed.

For the last few days, Edward had refused to even look at Mike. Yet despite his behavior, Mike held out hope that his father was finally getting the treatment he needed and that things would finally improve for the older man.

“Did you hear that? Your heart's fine and you're going home,” Mike clarified.

Silence.

“Edward, your son's talking to you,” Clara said, no edge in her tone.

Because she wasn't immediate family, she hadn't been permitted to spend the nights at the hospital.
But she'd been by his side every waking minute since Edward had been admitted.

Edward shrugged. “I got nothing to say to him. He thinks I'm crazy.”

“No, I think you're sick and you need help,” Mike said with much less patience than Clara exhibited.

The doctor stepped up to Mike and tipped her head toward the door. “Can we talk?”

Mike followed her into the antiseptic-smelling hallway.

“Don't worry,” she said after she shut the door quietly behind her so Edward couldn't overhear. “Your father is fine. He's now on an anti-anxiety medication, which has calmed him down and let him
feel
for the first time in ages,” the doctor explained.

“So he's feeling anger. Toward me. The only person who's stood by him?” Mike asked in disbelief.

Confusion, frustration and anger overwhelmed him, an impotent mix of feelings he didn't have the first clue how to handle. Because along with those feelings came the guilt for being angry at a sick man.

“Welcome to the world of therapy, Detective Corwin.” The psychiatrist placed a hand on his shoulder. “It's always really bad just before it gets better. But it
does
get better.”

“I'll have to take your word for it.”

“Sometimes counseling can help family members,
too. It's not easy to deal with the changes in their loved one.”

Mike let out a rough breath. He didn't need counseling, he needed Amber.

Needed to tell her he was sorry, that he loved her. That he didn't want to end up like his father, alone and afraid. He should never have sent her away. Mike wanted Amber in his life now and forever. And the sooner he told her those things, the better, as far as he was concerned.

But Edward was his first priority. And as much as that frustrated him, it was the way it had to be. “What does he need from me now? Can he stay alone?” Mike asked the doctor.

She shook her head. “But his friend Clara offered to move in and make sure he takes his medication and things like that. He seems to respond well to her so I have no objection if you don't.”

The knot in Mike's stomach eased. Not just because he wanted to hop a plane to Vegas, but because Mike feared for his own sanity if he had to move in with his father.

“Selfishly, that works for me,” he admitted.

The doctor nodded. “I understand. It saves you having to disrupt your life until we know if his medication is correct and he's able to function on his own.” She scribbled a few notes on her chart as she spoke. Then she glanced up at Mike. “Any other questions?”

“Actually, yes. About my own life…” Mike paused, feeling extremely self-centered for what he was about to ask. “I need to go out of town for personal reasons. But I won't go until you say it's okay.”

“Detective—”

“Mike, please.” He had a feeling they'd be seeing a lot of one another.

“Mike. Your father is going through a rough time, and clearly he's taking his anger out on the one person he trusts enough not to abandon him. That's you.” She smiled, reminding him of his warm, caring mother. “That said, because he is angry, it wouldn't hurt if you put a little distance between you. As long as Ms. Deveaux makes sure he takes his medication and contacts me if there's a problem, you can feel comfortable taking your trip.”

Her words took him off guard. “Really?”

She nodded. “As much as you feel responsible for your father, he's safe. He's cared for. And he's on the road to being healthier than he has been in years. I can't promise, but I can say with ninety-nine percent certainly based on experience, he will come around. Edward knows he can count on you.” She touched his shoulder. “You're a good son.”

Unbidden, a lump formed in his throat. “Thank you.” He forced the words out.

She inclined her head. “I'm just telling you like I see it. You're a good influence and your father needs you.”

Grateful, Mike shook the doctor's hand.

He'd help Clara get his father settled at home, then he'd see about booking a flight to Las Vegas, Nevada. The state where he'd met Amber, the city where his lucky streak had begun. With everything inside him, Mike hoped the streak didn't end in the same place it had started.

His fate was in Amber's hands.

B
Y THE TIME
the bus pulled into Vegas, Amber's body ached from the long hours of travel. Her heart ached even more, but she would have to learn to live with that. She didn't go home first, but took a cab to the nursing home to visit her father. She doubted he'd know she'd even been gone, but she needed to see him and pretend for a little while that he was healthy and she was still his best girl.

Because it was the summer, his floor nurse had taken him outside for some fresh air, and after checking in, Amber wandered out back. She found her father sitting in a lawn chair, staring out at nothing.

She pushed aside the expected pang of sadness and put on her brightest smile. Pulling up a chair, she seated herself beside him. “Hi, Dad.”

She took his hand. As she'd gotten into the habit of doing, she didn't wait for a reply.

“I'm sorry I haven't been here in a while. My life got a little crazy.” She laughed at her bland description.

Also keeping with her promise to always keep things positive with her father, she omitted any mention of her problems with Marshall or King Bobby.

“I met a man,” she said instead. “A good man. You'd like him.” Visions of Mike entered her head.

Mike, looking sexy in his navy T-shirt as he'd rescued her from Marshall in Vegas. Mike, his face in shock when he'd found her sprawled on his bed in Boston. Mike, holding her after they'd made love. No matter how hard he fought it, he'd always come back to her.

Until now.

“Anyway, things between us didn't work out,” she said to her father. “Guess what, though? I'm going to put out feelers to see if I can get a concierge job at one of the big hotels in Vegas. That's what you always wanted, right? Me working close by?” she asked, a lump in her throat.

She breathed in deep. She'd only been East for a short time, but she realized she liked looking around and seeing green trees instead of desert. And she'd have even come to terms with the humidity and frizzy hair if it meant being with Mike.

In the end, the choice hadn't been hers.

“I have to go now, Dad. But I promise I'll be back soon. Hopefully, I'll even have news about a new job.” She forced exuberance into her tone that she wasn't really feeling.

Leaning over, she kissed his cheek and as she
rose, she tried to tell herself she'd accepted the fact that he could no longer hug her back.

She lied.

She couldn't accept losing her father any more than she could accept losing Mike. Not in her heart. Where she felt more alone than she'd ever felt before.

 

A
MBER SLEPT WELL
and woke up the next morning with a plan. As she glanced around her father's old apartment, she realized she had to let the place go if she wanted to move forward. On a notepad she began a to-do list, starting with the intention to give notice on his apartment lease and find a new place of her own to live.

Amber glanced around her father's home and realized she'd also have to begin sorting through his belongings if she really intended to move out—and on. Parting with his things wouldn't be easy. She dreaded the task and knew she'd put it off until the very last moment.

Instead, she focused on herself. Next up, she needed a job. She called her old boss and let him know she was ready to return to work if there was a job opening in Las Vegas. He promised to look into things and get back to her as soon as possible. Amber then created a wish list of the top five hotel chains she'd like to work for, in case the Crown Chandler fell through. But her boss in Beverly Hills had really
loved her and she knew he'd do everything in his power to find her a position within the chain.

Knowing the business, Amber could put a solid guesstimate on what her salary would be—which forced her to face her father's situation. The reality was, she could not afford the high-end home she'd placed him in. She was ashamed of what she'd done with Marshall to cover those costs to begin with.

Any job she obtained now would allow her to put him in a nice home, but one where she'd have to compromise something in exchange for affordability. Like most people in the world, she had no choice. She wished she'd accepted the truth from the beginning, but she'd been in such a panic, and his illness had progressed so unexpectedly fast, she'd turned to Marshall and the life her father had taught her.

She couldn't regret her choices, because without those, she wouldn't have met Mike.

And how could she regret him?

Amber showered and dressed for the day. There wasn't a thing to eat in the apartment, so grocery shopping was definitely in order. Amber didn't mind the ordinary routine, but it made her realize just how alone she really was. More than once she caught herself talking out loud, expecting Edward Corwin's muttered answer.

She hoped Mike had taken her advice about his father's mental health to heart. Maybe she'd call
Clara and find out how things were going. Amber reached for her cell phone, then paused.

She'd needed to make a clean break. By keeping in touch, she was only prolonging her agony. Instead of people from Mike's life, she ought to be contacting people from her own.

She reached for her cell again, flipped it open and saw an incoming text message she hadn't noticed before. A glance at the number caused her heart to race.

Mike.

Her hands trembled as she struggled to press the buttons to bring up the note. Finally, she was able to read Mike's message: Circus Circus, Adventuredome, Canyon Blaster. Noon. If you're willing to take the ride of your life with me.

He was here? In Vegas? Now?

She glanced at her watch and saw she had just one half hour to get to his assigned destination. All the while, she struggled to breathe as she contemplated what this meant. Because Amber knew the coasters in Vegas like the back of her hand. The Canyon Blaster was the world's only indoor double-loop, double-corkscrew coaster.

She told herself not to hope.

She found it impossible not to.

 

M
IKE GLANCED UP
at the huge double loops and wanted to vomit. He'd rather face a bullet than
buckle himself into that death trap, letting some stranger push a lever that sent him soaring into oblivion.

Being with you, though it's fun and exhilarating, it's also like a roller-coaster ride,
he'd said to Amber. He hadn't meant it as a compliment.

And she hadn't taken it as one.

So Mike stood in front of this monstrosity now, waiting to see if Amber would put her trust in him one last time. He could think of no other way to prove he was willing to give one hundred percent to their relationship, and to her.

Assuming she showed up.

Mike needed a drink to calm his nerves, but he was afraid to put anything into his stomach before going on the ride. Unlike the last time, he wanted to be stone-cold sober for this particular meeting in Vegas.

He recognized her from far away, the long legs, flowing blond curls and the determined stride as she came closer. He wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms, but her shoulders were back, her gaze wary.

“I wasn't sure you'd come,” Mike said.

Helluva greeting, but he didn't know what else to say.

She smiled. “What can I say? I'm a gambler. But you already know that about me.” She paused, then added, “You know everything now.” She didn't break eye contact.

There were no more secrets, lies or omissions between them. He knew who she was. What she was. And he loved her for all of it.

He extended his hand. “Take that ride with me?” he asked, not surprised his voice was low and rough. He wasn't scared of a future with Amber, but he was petrified he wouldn't survive the nightmarish ride that awaited them.

“You don't have to do this for me,” she said, her gaze warm and soft.

He appreciated the gesture and leap of faith. “Maybe I have to do it for me.”

Without another word, she placed her hand in his and let him lead her to the roller coaster that went fifty-five miles per hour. He hadn't missed that fact in the online description, either.

She didn't let go of his hand as the ride took off and raced toward nothing. His heart lodged in his throat as they climbed the loop, higher and higher, upside down, then he was flying in a downward spiral. He didn't remember if he screamed or remained quiet, shut his eyes or watched every last moment. His body vibrated with the motion and thrill of the ride.

And with Amber by his side, it was a thrill, Mike realized as the cart finally, blessedly, came to a halt. He didn't know how he stood up or walked off without falling over or making an ass of himself. He only knew he'd not only survived, he'd con
quered the Canyon Blaster, a ride that had lived up to its name.

Having proved that to himself, he grabbed Amber's hand and led her to a quiet corner. His pulse still raced, but for positive reasons.

Good reasons.

Solid reasons.

“Amber—”

“Mike—” she said at the same time.

He laughed. “I'd like to say ladies first, but I really need to tell you something.”

She grinned, her smile easing the knots in his stomach. “You traveled three thousand miles and a double loop, double corkscrew. Somehow I think you've earned it.”

“I appreciate that, but first—” He reached out and cupped her head in his hands, pulled her toward him and covered her mouth with his, the way he'd been dying to since the moment he saw her again.

Amber didn't hesitate. She kissed him back, looping her arms around his neck and aligning her body with his. The kiss went on and on, his tongue delving deep into her mouth, devouring her as if they'd been apart years instead of days. He couldn't get enough. Would never get enough.

And he didn't want to.

She piqued his arousal, his interest, she tugged at his heart and found a place inside him forever.

It wasn't easy, but he broke the kiss, leaving her
panting. His own breath wasn't steady. “I was such an idiot,” he told her. “Pushing you away when you were everything I ever wanted.”

Amber's throat filled. Her heart swelled. But fear still managed to work its way through. “What about that little problem with you and roller coasters?” she couldn't help but ask.

He stroked her cheek with his hand. “I just didn't understand them before.”

She blinked back tears. “And you do now?”

He inclined his head. “That ride wasn't so bad,” he said, teasing her.

She didn't laugh. “That's not enough, Mike. You can't go from hating something to
that wasn't so bad.
You can't settle.”

“Have I said or done anything since stepping onto that roller coaster that indicates I'm settling?” he asked incredulously. “
I love you,
Amber. I. Love. You. I flew here to tell you just that. I rode the roller coaster to prove that not only do I want the fun and the exhilaration that being with you brings, but I can handle it.”

She couldn't tear her gaze from his clear blue eyes, so full of love and hope. She'd never seen the combination burn so bright in them before.

“Say that again.”

“The whole mouthful?” he asked in horror.

She laughed, her heart full. “No, silly. Just the three most important words.”

“I don't know. You haven't said them yet to me.” A smile worked at the corners of his mouth.

“I said them back at the bus station!”

“You said to Marshall, ‘I don't love you, I love
him.
' That's not the same thing.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. He was right. Even when she'd come to him and asked for a chance to make their marriage work, she'd never said those three words.

“I love you, too, Mike. I love you and your father and your cousin Derek and his wife, Gabrielle. I love your life and I want—” She realized what she was doing and she clenched her jaw shut tight.

“Go on,” he said, laughing.

She shook her head. “No. Not this time. You came out here, you say what you need to first.” Because she didn't want to misread or misinterpret what
he
wanted for their future.

“I love you,” he said, giving her what she'd asked for. “And in case you aren't sure what that means…” He paused and reached into his front jeans pocket, pulling out the large, gaudy ring he'd won for her, the one he'd found in his father's house after she'd left. “So here is your engagement ring, back on your finger where it belongs. On your wedding-ring finger,” he clarified as he slipped it onto her left hand.

Laughing, she admired her bauble. “I do love it,” she said.

“And this is the wedding ring I hope you'll wear
from now on.” Taking her completely off guard, he pulled a small pouch from his other front pocket and removed a diamond band.