Page 12 of Deathtoll
Murph
“You coming to Finnegan’s tonight?” Harper stopped in front of Murph on his way to the water cooler at Hope Hill’s very own gym.
Murph sat on his bench, but instead of lying back down to lift another few reps of the weights, he braced his elbows on his knees and hung his head. He was covered in sweat. He’d probably pushed himself harder than he should have. “Might as well.”
He made time every day for at least a brief workout, in between handling the million management tasks that running Hope Hill required. He had shrapnel damage in his shoulder that tended to stiffen up. He needed the exercise to keep everything in good working order.
“Kate coming with you?” Harper wiped the glistening sweat off his face with the back of his hand, equipment clanging all around them.
“Probably not.” Murph was at his wit’s end with her. He had told her he was staying late because he had hoped she would offer to stay with him. Truth was, the grant application was nearly complete.
“Bro.” Harper grinned. “Whatever you did, just apologize already. Bring her flowers. If it’s beyond flowers, fancy bonbons. If it’s beyond fancy bonbons, jewelry.”
“Aren’t you the relationship expert? Because you’re, what, in your first ever serious relationship finally?”
“Hey, when I’m hanging out tonight at Finnegan’s, my woman will be by my side. And then we’ll go home together. And then…” He made a va-va-voom face.
Murph bit back a laugh. “Feel free to spare me the details.”
Harper puffed his chest out as he sauntered away, while Murph shook his head.
He didn’t know how to fix what he’d done wrong, because he didn’t know what he’d done wrong. He’d proposed. Kate had run away. She’d asked for time and space, and then she bought a house and moved out of their apartment at Hope Hill.
Murph was no expert on women either, but her leaving didn’t seem like a sign that she wanted to work things out with him.
He did his best not to bring up their relationship, or rather, the lack thereof, to her, because she would only remind him that they had agreed to this break. And she would say it as if it’d been as much his idea as hers.
Like hell it’d been. He’d only accepted her pronouncement because anything else—pushing, demanding answers—would have made him a jackass.
How much damn time could a woman need?
A deadline would have been nice, knowing when she’d put him out of his misery. Like,tomorrow. He could survive another twenty-four hours.Maybe.
“I’ll be working a shift behind the bar,” Harper said on his way back, a paper cup in his hand. His family owned Finnegan’s. “Jerry’s out. Emergency appendicitis surgery. Didn’t tell anyone he was in pain and drove himself to the freaking hospital instead of asking for help.”
“Sounds like Jerry.” This was the guy whose doctor once told him he should have a suspicious mole checked out on his arm, and he went home and cut it off with his pocket knife.
Harper moved on, but called back over his shoulder, casting a meaningful glance at the weights set up for Murph. “Try not to pull anything, old man.”
The words required a response, but instead of returning the smartass comment with one of his own, Murph sat there dumbstruck. Dan, the new patient, was walking across the yard with Kate, the stupid pink bag of chocolates from Sweet Beginnings swinging fromhishand.
As they passed out of sight, Murph dropped back onto the bench, grabbed the bar, and pushed it up so violently that the weights rattled. Then he did it again, and again, and again.
By the time he was finished with his set, sitting up and breathing hard, Kate was walking back. She glanced over. Saw him through the window. Stopped.
He stared like the poor, hapless sap he was.
She’d let her hair grow, the thick locks now falling past the middle of her back. The breeze blew a few stray strands into her face. She didn’t bother brushing them away.
While they’d lived in Ohio as Murphy Andrews and Katie Milano, she’d worn her hair short, colored black, but then gone back to auburn when they’d returned to Broslin, the same color she had when they’d first met.
Her sky-blue gaze held Murph’s as she stood outlined against the greenery behind her. She was more beautiful in shapeless scrubs than any other woman he’d ever met in their skimpiest party gear. How often did he fantasize about peeling her out of those scrubs and the sports bra and simple cotton underwear he knew she had on underneath? Every damn night.
For a hopeful moment, he thought she might come over to talk to him, and his heart gave a big, solid bang in his chest. But instead, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and answered a call.Right.She’d only stopped because her phone had been ringing in her pocket.
Murph watched as shock spread on her paling face, could read her lips as she said,Oh my God. What?
He grabbed his sweatshirt from the floor and was through the door and next to her just in time to hear her add, “I don’t have my car. I’m stuck at work.”
