“I just slapped you,” Ivy replied. “I … how can you even ask me if I’m okay?”
“Because I deserved to be slapped.”
“You deserve to be run over by a car and then backed over again,” Ivy countered. “You’re lucky I don’t have a vehicle with me.”
Jack fought the urge to smile, knowing it was the exact worst thing he could do, but the situation was so surreal he couldn’t fight the expression. Twenty-four hours earlier they were having the time of their lives on a picnic blanket. He could touch her without reservation. Now she was right in front of him and yet she still felt miles away.
“This is not funny!” Ivy went to place her hands on her hips and groaned, instead reaching for her bad shoulder. “Are you happy? Now my arm really is going to fall off.”
Jack sobered. “I’m not happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been this unhappy.”
“Whatever,” Ivy said, rolling her eyes and refusing to fall for his act. “You know what? You can have the lake. I’m going home.” She turned and flounced back in the opposite direction, her hand resting protectively over her shoulder.
Jack immediately fell into step behind her, keeping two feet between them, but refusing to let her wander off on her own.
Ivy ignored the sound of his footsteps for as long as she could, but after a few minutes she swiveled and fixed him with a murderous look. “Why are you following me?”
“Because we have to talk.” It was easier for Jack to keep his temper in check this time. Her pain put everything in perspective. “I’m going to walk you back to your house, check your shoulder, tell you what I have to tell you and then … .” And then what? Would he really be able to walk away again?
“And then you’ll go,” Ivy finished for him. “Great. This sounds exactly how I wanted to spend my afternoon. I think I must be the luckiest woman in the world.”
Jack didn’t know about lucky – although that bullet might have killed her if she hadn’t bent over exactly when she did – but he was convinced she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
“Start moving, Ivy,” Jack said quietly. “It looks like it’s going to storm.”
“Oh, bite me.”
“WHAT did the doctor say about giving you pain killers?” Jack asked, his fingers gentle as they prodded the bandage over her wound as she sat in a kitchen chair and allowed him to tend her wound. “Hold still while I take this off. I don’t want to hurt you.”
After the longest twenty-minute hike of his life, Jack followed Ivy into her cottage – despite the fact that she tried to shut the door in his face – and patiently set about checking her shoulder. He was done yelling at her. Well, at least for now.
“You’ve already hurt me.” Ivy was petulant.
“I know I have,” Jack said softly. “You’ll never know how sorry I am for causing you one moment of pain.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“I … panicked.”
Ivy stilled, her expression thoughtful as she studied his intent face. He didn’t meet her gaze, afraid he would fall into those eyes and never find his way back out. Instead, he pulled the bandage off and frowned at the angry wound.
In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t a bad wound. It was nothing compared to the mess left on his chest after Marcus shot him. The sight of the marred and angry flesh caused his heart to constrict all the same. This was his fault.
“Everyone panics, Jack,” Ivy said. “It’s what you do after that’s important.”
“And I let you down.”
“I think you let yourself down,” Ivy replied. “Just slap a new bandage on that and say what you have to say.”
Jack licked his lips. “I’m the reason you were shot.” It took everything he had to admit it, and he waited for her to slap him again before risking a look at her annoyed face. “It’s my fault.”
“You’re just … an idiot!”
Jack was taken aback. “Excuse me?”
“It’s not your fault, Jack. You didn’t shoot me.”
“The gun used to kill Mark Dalton … the gun used to shoot you … is my old partner’s weapon,” Jack said, his voice wavering. “Someone went after you because of me.”
“And you put yourself in danger to save me from Heath and Gil Thorpe,” Ivy reminded him. “If you died in either of those instances, would that have been my fault?”
“Of course not. That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because … .” Jack was at a loss for how to answer.
“Because I’m a girl?” Ivy pressed. “Because you’re a big, strong cop and I’m a weak girl? Is that it?”
“Oh, don’t play that game,” Jack snapped, affixing a new bandage to Ivy’s shoulder and taping it in place as he tried to control his racing heart. “You’re stronger than anyone I know. That was my job, though.”
“Oh.” Ivy’s eyes flashed. “Are you saying you only did what you did because it was your job? And here I thought it was because you cared about me. I’m such a moron.”
“I do care about you,” Jack hissed. “You have no idea how much I care. I just … I did this to you. Don’t you understand that?”
“No,” Ivy replied, fumbling with the top of her pain medication bottle and then popping two capsules into her mouth. She grabbed the half-empty bottle of water on the table and downed the medication under Jack’s watchful eye. “You didn’t do this to me, Jack. This was done to both of us. The difference is, I’m not the type of person to throw everything away because I’m afraid.”
Ivy got to her feet and pushed past him. “I’m sure you know the way out.”
“What are you doing?” Jack asked. “We’re not done talking yet.”
“Oh, yes we are,” Ivy said, moving down
