The Nurse's Brooding Boss (13 page)

He was taking responsibility for them.

But they weren’t his fault. Not really. Chloe had made sure she’d known she wasn’t the only kid in the world to be dealt a lousy hand. What a person did with the cards they’d been given was no one’s fault but their own.

She knew that now.

She forced herself to meet his gaze. “No. I did this to myself.”

“I’
M SORRY
,” Brock murmured, venturing closer, his expression still tortured. “I’m so sorry.”

If he kept apologizing like this, she was going to lose it. She angled her chin, desperately trying to hang on to her anger, to remain strong. “I already told you it’s not your fault. Please, just let me go.”

“I can’t.” Brock remained exactly where he stood, still blocking the doorway leading out of his bedroom. “Not like this.”

What did he want from her? Blood? A touch of hysteria bubbled in her chest. “Why not? My ugly scars have nothing to do with you.”

“They’re not ugly, Elana. I hate knowing you suffered, but those scars are not ugly.” His gaze narrowed in anger. “Who told you they were? Some idiot past lover?”

She resented how he seemed to read her so easily, and she lifted a shoulder in a careless shrug. “Doesn’t matter. I know they’re ugly. I see the evidence every day.”

“Yet you hide them from the rest of the world,” he
said in a low voice. “Wearing long sleeves beneath your scrubs. Why didn’t you say anything to me about them?” Brock took another step into the room, his imploring gaze eroding the edges of her resistance. “After expressing your concerns about Lacey, why didn’t you tell me what happened to you?”

What happened to her? As if her scars were some sort of bizarre accident, rather than the intentional self-mutilation she knew them to be? “I’m not proud of what I did to myself, Brock. Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been for me to pull my life back together?”

“I can only imagine, and knowing what you’ve accomplished only makes me respect you more.” His tone was firm, and a tiny part of her longed to believe.

But respect? Hardly. He had no idea.

“I know you’re a strong woman, Elana,” he continued. “You’ve shown me your strength in a variety of ways, not least of which the way you volunteer your time to take care of others.” His brows pulled together in a puzzled frown. “You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known, which is why I don’t understand why you believe those scars are something to be ashamed of.”

Obviously, he didn’t get it. Didn’t understand the burden she carried. And she was finished talking about this. “I’m going home, Brock. Move out of my way.”

“Elana, please, don’t do this. Don’t throw away what we shared last night.”

“We had sex last night,” she said bluntly. Wonderful, glorious sex—at least that’s how she thought of it until
he’d noticed her scars and all her old insecurities had rushed back. “Because I wanted to.”

A flicker of uncertainty flashed in his eyes, and she squashed a niggle of self-doubt for downplaying the closeness they’d shared. “It was more than sex for me,” he said slowly. “We made love. All night long.”

Her mouth went dry. He didn’t mean that. Not really.

Brock’s gaze grew fierce. “Did you hear what I said, Elana? What we shared was making love. I love you. Scars and all, I love you.”

He loved her? No, she didn’t believe it. He couldn’t be serious. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do. I love you.” He took another step forward, and she immediately backed away. “Please don’t leave. Stay. Talk to me.”

How could he love her? He was only saying that because he didn’t really understand. Didn’t know the darkness that had haunted her for so long.

“We’ve been talking,” she protested, suddenly weary. “Talking isn’t going to change anything. You’re only saying all this because you feel bad. Because you think you’re somehow responsible for these scars. But you’re not. What can I say to convince you?”

“You could stay. You could let me hold you.” He reached out towards her.

Flinching from his touch, she shook her head. If he touched her, held her, she’d lose what little control she had left. “Look, this isn’t personal. I just need a little time, some space.”

“It’s not personal? I tell you I love you, and you think
this isn’t personal?” For the first time, a note of anger tinted his tone. “Hell, I hate to tell you, but having you walk away from me feels pretty damn personal, Elana.”

She’d hurt him, even though she hadn’t meant to. She remembered what Chloe had asked: if she was worried she might be the one to hurt him. Yet she was the one with the scars. With the horrible past. None of this was making any sense.

She just wanted some time alone. To think. To try to figure things out.

His phone rang again, and she glanced at the device clipped to the waistband of his jeans. “Aren’t you going to get that?”

Stubbornly he shook his head. “They’ll call back, I’m sure.”

“What if it’s Lacey this time?”

He glanced down, uncertainty shadowing his gaze.

“She’ll think you’re mad at her if you ignore her.”

He muttered a curse under his breath. “I’ll talk to her later. Right now, I think it’s best if I do take you home.”

She’d almost forgotten she didn’t have her car. She almost insisted on taking a taxi but didn’t want to hurt Brock any more than she already had by refusing something as simple as a ride. She gave a jerky nod. “Fine.”

When he disappeared into the living room, she quickly searched for her undergarments. Changing fast, she took off the dress, put on her bra and underwear, and then pulled her dress back on.

Being properly dressed made her feel better. She
headed out to the living room, forcing herself to sit on the edge of the sofa to wait.

Brock emerged from the kitchen, his phone in his hand, his expression wary.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, suddenly worried. She jumped to her feet. “Lacey? Has something happened to Lacey?”

“No, this was the pediatrician from Children’s Memorial. Tucker is ready to be discharged.”

“Oh.” She relaxed a bit. “That’s good news.”

He grimaced. “It’s good for Tucker, but I’m going to need help, Elana. How am I going to care for a baby on my own without Lacey? I’ve always avoided kids. I know it’s a lot to ask, but will you help me?” Deep down, he knew he could have just hired a nanny, but what he really wanted was Elana.

Help him? She couldn’t. He was asking too much of her.

So then why hadn’t she told him no?

Elana rode with Brock to the hospital to pick up Tucker, telling herself that she’d help him get things settled with the baby at home before she left.

While he was driving, he tossed his phone at her. “Try Lacey again, would you?”

She opened his phone and found Lacey’s number. Lacey’s cell phone went straight to voice mail.

“No answer,” she said, snapping his phone shut.

His mouth tightened, but he didn’t say anything.

She wanted to reassure him that Lacey would be back, that she’d return his car and step up to take care
of her son, but, at this point, words were useless. The longer Lacey stayed away, the worse things looked. She knew only too well how the inevitable darkness could warp a person’s perceptions.

She hoped and prayed Lacey was okay.

Wordlessly, they took the elevators up to the sixth floor. Entering Tucker’s room, they found the nurse in with him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she said in relief, thrusting the baby at Brock. “I wanted to get this little guy discharged before my next patient came in.”

Brock held Tucker in his arms, only the tiniest hint of panic in his gaze. “He’s finished with his IV antibiotics?” he asked, noting the absence of an IV.

“Yes, we switched him to oral meds this morning, and he seems to be doing fine. The doctor said you should continue the oral antibiotics for another week. Really, he shouldn’t have any other problems; he’s been an angel.”

“Well, he doesn’t seem to be crying much,” Brock murmured.

Elana crossed over to pick up the diaper bag Lacey must have left and slung the strap over her shoulder.

Brock held Tucker as the nurse rattled on about the last time he’d eaten. She couldn’t tear her gaze from Brock. The enthralled expression on his face, as he gently stroked a finger down Tucker’s cheek, hit her low in the stomach, stealing her breath.

Brock couldn’t have looked any more natural if Tucker were his own son. And in that moment, she caught a glimpse of the future. A tiny shred of hope.

The family she’d always dreamed about.

Gently, so as not to wake him, Brock lifted Tucker and set him in his infant car seat, bypassing his quilted jacket, since the day was warm and sunny. After buckling Tucker into the seat, he covered the car seat with a blanket, the way he’d watched Lacey do.

He cast a glance at Elana, knowing he’d pushed his luck by asking her to stay and help him.

It was the only thing he could think of that might convince her to stay. She would stay for Lacey’s sake. And maybe for Tucker’s.

But not his. And certainly not for herself.

“Here’s the prescription,” the nurse said, shoving a slip of paper at him. “You can get this filled at any pharmacy. And all the rest of Tucker’s discharge instructions are on this sheet here.”

Clearly, the nurse was eager to be on her way. He couldn’t totally blame her, since she did mention having a new admission.

“Thanks. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Elana shot a surprised glance at him but didn’t say anything.

He lifted the infant carrier and gestured to the door. “Ready?” he asked. “We can stop at a drugstore on the way home.”

He imagined she flinched when he said the word
home
. He had to swallow hard to stop himself from making a bigger fool of himself than he already had. He’d told Elana that he loved her.

Clearly she didn’t believe him.

And he had no way of knowing what to say to convince her.

Elana didn’t say much, other than offering to stay in the car with the baby while he ran into the local pharmacy to pick up Tucker’s liquid antibiotics.

The minute he carried Tucker inside the house, though, the baby woke up and began to cry.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he said in alarm as he unbuckled the baby from his car seat. “You were doing so much better.”

Elana watched from the doorway, as if she were just waiting for the right moment to leave. And suddenly he realized he shouldn’t try to make her stay. Taking advantage of her innate kindness.

He’d only wanted another chance to talk to her. To make her understand what he was barely able to comprehend himself.

How much he loved her. And how together they really had a chance of making things work.

But if Tucker was going to keep crying, they weren’t going to have any time alone. And his tiny nephew was his problem, not hers.

“Elana, you don’t have to stay; we’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” The deep furrows in her brow indicated she wasn’t convinced. When Tucker continued to wail, she pushed away from the door. “I’ll make a bottle of formula for you to try. Maybe he’s hungry.”

She disappeared into the kitchen before he could protest. He walked around the living room in a feeble attempt to get Tucker to calm down. When she came
back, she handed him a warmed bottle, so he awkwardly sat on the end of the sofa and tried to get Tucker to eat.

He wasn’t interested. In seconds he was crying again.

“Here, let me try.”

He handed over the baby, and Elana must have had some sort of magic touch, because Tucker settled down to suck on his bottle.

“How did you do that?” he muttered.

“I don’t know. Maybe he could tell you weren’t comfortable with him.” She smiled down at Tucker, bending to gently kiss his head.

Lucky Tucker to be in Elana’s arms. He wished more than anything he’d handled things differently that morning. But he hadn’t. God help him, he’d never once thought she’d inflicted those cuts herself.

He took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on the matter at hand. Tucker. Soon he’d be alone with Tucker.

“He’d better get used to me,” he said with a frown. “Because right now, I’m all he’s got.”

Elana glanced up at him, her expression troubled. “What if Lacey doesn’t come back? Do you think Joel will still come back to take over?”

He couldn’t hide the flash of panic in his eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Her gaze clouded with doubt. He couldn’t blame her. The way Joel had taken off in the first place made him doubt his brother too.

“Maybe I was wrong, Brock,” Elana said, smoothing a hand over Tucker’s head. “I’ve been thinking we
should call the police. What if something happened to Lacey, like a car accident or something worse?”

He stared at her for a minute. “Don’t you think we would hear about it if she was in a car crash?”

“Not if no one’s found her and she’s too sick to make a phone call.” Elana’s brow puckered in a frown. “Call the police. Tell them how Lacey took off. Report your car stolen.”

He was shocked at her sudden turn of heart. “Elana, don’t you think that will make things worse for Lacey?”

Elana turned away, burying her face against Tucker. “I don’t know,” she said in a muffled yet agonized voice.

He understood what she was really afraid of. Elana carried scars just like Lacey’s. She knew better than anyone what was going on in Lacey’s troubled mind. “You don’t think she’s coming back.”

She lifted her head to look at him, her gaze full of desperate fear. “I’m not sure. And I’m afraid that if your brother knows she’s gone, then he might not come back either. And then what will happen?”

Taking the bottle from Tucker’s mouth, she sat him in her lap and rubbed his back until he burped. He looked away from his nephew’s sweet, innocent face, his chest tightening.

“They’ll be back.” He wished he sounded more convincing.

“What if they don’t come back?” she persisted. “What would happen to Tucker? Would you adopt him? Give him the loving home and family he needs?”

Brock swallowed hard, unable to respond. He knew
he should tell her what she wanted to hear, but he couldn’t. Just the thought of raising a child made him feel sick to his stomach.

He’d already stolen one young woman’s life. And look what had happened to Elana. The scars weren’t the worst of it, he knew. They were only a reminder of how she’d been through hell and back.

No, he couldn’t do it.

And suddenly he realized that loving Elana wasn’t enough. He didn’t have anything to offer. Not if she had her heart and soul set on having a family.