Page 20 of When You Are Mine

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The sight of them holding hands, towering over her like ruling monarchs, looking perfect together, made Kerris feel so ordinary—insignificant, like one of the pebbles under her feet. She was glad Sofie had walked up. She had to be imagining that Walsh felt the same intimate pull that she had. Sofie was Walsh’s reality. And Kerris’s reality was walking toward her with a smile, proffering an elephant ear.

“You’re awake. Want one?” Cam eyed the departing couple speculatively. “Gotta give it to Sof. That girl is determined to catch her man.”

“Seems like he’s not running too hard.” Kerris bit into the sweet fried dough.

“I dunno.” Cam frowned and wiped powdered sugar from the corner of her mouth. “I know everyone thinks they’re made for each other, but not sure Walsh sees it that way. Or at least he didn’t used to. I always thought Walsh would fall in love with some girl no one saw coming. He’s a closet romantic.”

“What makes you think that?” Kerris tried to rein in her stampeding heart.

“I know him better than everybody else.” Cam tugged her hand to help her out of the water. “I think Walsh will want to marry a girl he loves. I just don’t see him ever loving Sofie.”

“Maybe someone should tell Sofie that.” Kerris ran her fingers over the few rocks she had collected.

“Someone has.” Cam gave a short laugh. “Walsh has, in every way he can think of, but she keeps coming like a tank. A beautiful, sexy tank. I’ll give her that, but I don’t know if she’s gonna land him.”

“Jo thinks she will.”

“Really?” Cam raised both eyebrows, obviously surprised. “She must know something I don’t.”

“Look, the fireworks are about to start. Let’s go watch.”

She changed gears with no clutch, not wanting to spend another minute talking about Walsh and Sofie.

Chapter Eight

What’s taking so long?” Walsh asked the question for probably the hundredth time.

Kerris watched him pace back and forth in the small hospital waiting room, wanting to comfort him, to give him answers she knew they would have to wait for. Iyani had been so brave going into surgery, clutching the rock Kerris had brought her like a talisman with mystical powers of courage.

Kerris fingered the leather bracelet encircling her wrist, blinking back tears. It had been seven hours. Walsh had been on his laptop working for a good part of the day, staying connected to Walsh Foundation business, and, to her surprise, Bennett Enterprises. She hadn’t realized until today how involved he was in his father’s business affairs.

She had brought her laptop as well, glad that Meredith had installed the business software package so she could do some preliminary accounting and inventory work for Déjà Vu. She had also brought her sketch pad to capture ideas for her river rock jewelry. They both had plenty to occupy their time and attention, but that awareness of each other remained. From time to time, she would glance up from her laptop or from doodling on her pad to find his eyes resting on her. He wouldn’t look away immediately, but held the look before returning to his own task, unnerving Kerris.

No sign of Dr. Myer bearing news, good or bad. Kerris felt completely helpless; useless. She hadn’t wanted to go anywhere, even to the bathroom, in case she missed Dr. Myer coming out of surgery. At this point, her butt was numb and her leg had fallen asleep where she had it curled under her.

“I’ll go grab you some hot coffee.” She stood up, stretching her arms out like a clothesline.

“No, stay.” Walsh reached for her wrist, pulling her back down to the seat beside him. “If I have any more coffee, I’ll piss my pants.”

She smiled for the first time in hours. Walsh twisted their fingers together in his lap. The smile shriveled on her lips. Her palms moistened and her foot started atap tap tapon the wax-slick waiting room floor.

“I just want her to be okay, Ker.” The deep assurance she had become accustomed to was completely absent from Walsh’s low voice. “If she dies…”

“If she dies, you did everything in your power to help her.” Kerris ignored the assault he was on her senses, tightening her fingers around his. “All we can do is—”

“Were you gonna say pray?” The question was soft and serious.

“I was gonna say hope.” She lowered her lashes to cover the shadows of unanswered prayers her eyes harbored. “But you can pray if you want.”

“That’s what my grandmother would have said we should do.”

“Oh, not the praying grandmother.” Kerris hoped her comment would distract him and lighten the sober mood.

“Don’t hate on MawMaw,” he said, lips twitching.

“MawMaw!” She didn’t even try to hold back her laugh. “Could you be more stereotypically Southern than having a praying grandmother named MawMaw? And let’s not forget that you brought me collard greens, macaroni and cheese, and fried chicken for dinner.”

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