“Sorry,” she said slowly, thinking about each syllable in the hope of preventing a stutter. “Just thinking.”
“About Rochelle?”
About anything and everything to keep from thinking about him. But she wasn’t about to admit how much she’d missed him when he’d obviously not missed her, had obviously moved on with his life, with her not having made a speed bump’s worth of difference.
So she told him about the tiny baby girl who she feared had taken a turn for the worse she wouldn’t pull back from. “She’s dropped weight over the past week.”
Ty sank down in the chair next to hers, stretched out his long legs. “I thought she’d pull through. That she was going to be a success story.”
He was so close. Close enough she could smell the spicy clean scent of him. Close enough that his body heat radiated toward her. Close enough that all she had to do was reach out to touch him, to feel his skin beneath her fingertips.
She swallowed. Hard. “Me, too.”
In silence, he studied the baby’s record. “You’ve done everything possible.”
She knew that the very nature of what they did meant they wouldn’t always be successful. “I just keep thinking I’ve missed something, but I can’t figure out what.”
“Maybe it’s more who you’ve missed rather than what.”
Her breath catching in her throat, her gaze jerked toward him. “I haven’t missed you.”
Much.
She’d missed him like crazy.
She’d relived every touch shared between Ty and herself, and had cried more tears than she cared to recall.
“Darlin’, for the record, I was referring to Rochelle’s father.” The corner of Ty’s mouth twitched, but she wasn’t sure if it was with annoyance or an almost smile.
She felt his gaze on her, but she refused to meet his eyes. She just couldn’t. “Oh.”
“But since you’ve brought up the subject of missing me—”
“Perhaps you misunderstood,” she interrupted, feeling sweat pop out on the back of her neck. “I said I hadn’t missed you.”
“Perhaps we should discuss just how much you haven’t missed me.”
“What?” She squinted at him from behind her glasses. “That makes no sense.”
“About as much sense as you avoiding me the past few weeks.”
Maybe she should take pity on him. After all, he had attempted to talk to her a few times in the NICU when their paths had crossed, but his expression had seemed so forced, his conversation so stilted and underlying with anger that she’d wanted cry. So she’d held fast, avoided him, refusing to become just another woman Ty loved and left by beating him to the punch and keeping distance between them.
“I didn’t see you seeking out my company,” she pointed out, knowing she probably sounded accusatory.
“Did you want me to seek out your company?”
Had she?
“No.”
“Would you have granted me your company if I’d sought you out? Because I got the distinct impression that you wouldn’t.” He sighed, took her hand in his and studied their locked fingers. “I’m here to find out if you’re still going to Texas with me next week.”
She’d wondered if he’d want her to, but then had written off the possibility as crazy. Of course he wouldn’t want her there. Not after what they’d done. Not after five weeks of awkwardness between them. When she couldn’t do more than stutter and blush around him.
“I could see why you might want to reconsider our agreement, but I did keep my end of the deal, which means you owe me.”
He really expected her to go with him? Why did that secretly thrill her as much as it scared her? Because she’d missed him and felt desperate for his attention? Lord, she hoped that wasn’t it, but feared it just might be.