Susan Mallery

Accidentally Yours


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      Was she bringing up the kiss? Annoyance flared, but he ignored it. Emotions weren’t productive.

      “So what’s the deal with this place?” Kerri asked. “Is there anything specific I should be doing?”

      “Walk around with me and pretend you’re enjoying yourself.”

      “Should I carry a sign telling the world I think you’re a god?”

      “You’re a lot less reverent now that you have your money.”

      “I know. Isn’t it fun?”

      “Don’t talk about the money,” he said, ignoring her question.

      “Promise.”

      “Just be friendly. Don’t give out personal information, don’t volunteer anything. If someone asks if we’re dating, say no, but don’t use a facial expression.”

      “What? How can I know what my face is doing?”

      “You know what I mean.”

      “You’re giving me way too much credit.” She waved Cody forward. “Cody, this is Mr. King. Nathan, my son.”

      Trapped, Nathan shook hands with the kid without really looking at him.

      “Nice to meet you,” Cody mumbled.

      “You’d rather be anywhere but here, right?” Nathan asked. He pointed to the far corner, where a multicolored balloon arch beckoned. “All the kid stuff is there, including the free arcade.”

      Cody grinned. “Sweet.”

      “I’ll take him,” Lance said. “Make sure he doesn’t get lost.”

      “Thanks,” Kerri told him. “I think I have to stay with Nathan and play grateful supplicant.”

      “And here I thought you were sincere,” Lance said.

      “I am.” Kerri’s eyes sparkled. “Have fun, Cody. Be good. Stay in the kids’ section until I come to get you.”

      “Oh, Mo-om.”

      She looked at Nathan. “That’s boy speak for ‘Why, yes, Mother. Of course I will. I would never give you a moment’s trouble because you are so loving and kind.’”

      Cody grumbled something under his breath as he went off with Lance. Nathan watched them go, wondering if his relationship with Daniel had been so comfortable. He’d loved his son more than he’d ever loved any other person, but sometimes he hadn’t known what to do or say.

      “He’s having a good day,” Kerri said happily. “I love the good days. They make me believe in miracles.”

      “You have to be realistic,” Nathan said, oddly annoyed by her faith and optimism.

      “No way.” She looked at him, her blue eyes narrowed. “If I was realistic, Cody would have been dead a long time ago. Faith matters. My grandmother was diagnosed with liver cancer and given six months to live. She refused to believe it. She thought her doctor was an idiot. She lived six years because she wanted to see me graduate from high school.” Some of the fight went out of her. “She did. She lasted until the following summer.”

      Kerri crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. “So I’m a big believer in cheating death and I’ll take on anyone who says otherwise.”

      She radiated strength and power and an inner beauty he’d never noticed before. In that moment, he almost believed her. But he had a grave marker for a little boy that reminded him that miracles were a cheap trick and faith was for suckers.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      “I WANT THEM ALL to go away,” Abram said angrily. “There are too many people. They’re disturbing my concentration.”

      In the past few years he’d learned to work in silence. While the progress was slow, it was safer that way—if it was just him. If no one got involved. No one got hurt.

      “It’s difficult to start up a lab without having people,” Linda teased. “We could try using something quieter, like mice, but without the opposable thumb…”

      She paused, as if waiting for him to smile. He didn’t. Nothing about this was funny.

      “They need to go away,” he insisted. “They can go back where they came from and take their money with them.”

      “No, they can’t,” she said. “Abram, this is a second chance for all of us. Not only for the sick children you’ll save, but for you and your work.”

      “I don’t want a second chance. I want to be left alone.” He stood and walked into the lab, the one place he could lose himself in his theories and find peace.

      “It’s not going to happen,” she said. “You have to look at the résumés and choose the best people for the research. Time is precious. Children are sick.”

      He didn’t ever think about the children. Not thinking about them allowed him to go through the slow, methodical process that led to discoveries. He didn’t hurry, he didn’t push. He went one step at a time, as he should, following promising leads when they appeared, but always returning to the original premise.

      “I can’t do this again,” he told her, sitting at his computer, staring at a blank screen. “You can’t ask me to.”

      “What are you talking about? You always said that with just a little more funding, you could find a way to control the disease.”

      “That was before.” Before the nightmare that had ruined everything.

      “Nothing bad is going to happen,” she assured him.

      He turned on her. “Do you remember? Do you remember the explosion, the fire? People died. Good people died. Everything was destroyed. We were left with nothing and now the town is dying, too, and I can’t stop it. I won’t do it again. I won’t take the risk.”

      She walked toward him. “Abram, no. You can’t mean that. You have the money. You need to find a cure.”

      “At what price? I killed them, Linda. Me. I’m supposed to heal people, to make the world better, but I didn’t. I put off the repairs and in the end, they were dead. I won’t destroy anyone else. I will live out here, doing my work and when I’m gone someone else can take the money and continue.”

      “No,” she said firmly. “You’ll do it. No one blames you for what happened. But you have to move forward. If you don’t, more children will die. Don’t you think the people who lost their lives would want you to continue?”

      He stared at her. “No, they wouldn’t.”

      “You’re wrong.”

      He turned away. “It doesn’t matter. I want you to send them all away. Return the money, if you can. Otherwise, leave it for whoever comes after me.”

      He reached for his lab coat, but before he could slip it on, he heard her say, “No.”

      He glanced at her. His usually calm, pleasant assistant stared at him with a look of fury in her eyes. Abram wasn’t one to guess at other people’s emotions—when he tried he usually got it wrong. His ex-wife had said it was because he didn’t care enough to pay attention and she’d mostly been right. But there was no escaping Linda’s rage as she glared at him.

      “You can’t refuse to do this,” she said.

      “I already have.”

      “No.”

      “Tell them to take back the money.”

      “Tell them yourself.”

      “What?”

      She’d never spoken back to him before. Never been anything but supportive.

      “Tell