Free Forget Me Not by Marliss Melton Page B

them empty.
    A sulky expression slipped over her face. "I don't know. My friends dared me to, I guess."
    "What did Mom say?" He liked calling Helen Mom. It made their arrangement sound permanent, irrevocable.
    Her look of disgust was almost comical. "She wigged out on me completely. That's why I don't wear any studs. I have to close the holes up."
    He wanted to shake Helen's hand for holding her ground. "So you put yourself through all that for nothing," he pointed out.
    She shrugged, a quick rise and fall of her shoulders.
    Her silence nagged at him. "Do you always do what your friends say?" he added, goading something out of her.
    "No."
    He waited, sensing more.
    "That's not really why I did it," she admitted quietly.
    "No?"
    Seconds stretched by as Mallory stared sightlessly at the photos. Suddenly she pushed the album off her lap and bolted, leaving Gabe sitting there by himself with more to think about than ever.
    He wasn't an expert in child psychology by any means, but half a dozen holes in one ear was surely a cry for attention. Given Helen's accusations that he'd ignored his stepdaughter, he had to assume that he was, in some way, responsible for Mallory's actions, even though she'd thought him dead when she did it. If he'd been more of a father before he'd left on his last assignment, would she have pierced her ear then?
    With a whispered curse he rubbed his gritty eyes. God, he was tired! The roadblocks in his future seemed higher and wider than anything he'd ever faced in his past—and that was saying a lot for a man who'd lived through Hell Week. Back in his days of training he'd had the energy to endure whatever was demanded of him. He was younger then. Right now, he felt about a million years old.
    Through half-closed eyes, he studied his surroundings. The office had been converted out of the smallest of the three bedrooms. His bed was a burgundy and green sofa, lumpy but soft. The bookcases and computer desk were matching mahogany. An elegant valance framed the single window. It was paradise compared to what he'd likely endured. He really couldn't complain.
    His gaze slid to the space beside him where the album teetered on the edge of the cushion, still opened to where Mal had left it. He studied the pictures from a distance, keeping himself aloof.
    There he was, a head above the rest of the men, posing for the camera with a possessive hand about Helen's shoulders. Curiosity prompted him to turn the page, and there they were, kissing.
    Gabe's breath caught. He leaned toward the close-up shot, lured by the thought of kissing his wife. The expression on her face ignited a fierce heat in him. Her lashes were weighted with desire, her eyes glazed, lips softly parted. Jesus, she was beautiful like that!
    Staring at her picture, he realized she'd tried purposefully to mislead him today. She'd told the doctor that she had married Gabe to give Mallory a father. But that wasn't the whole story, was it? These pictures made it obvious that she'd fallen head-over-heels in love with him. For a second, he reveled in the realization. But then he recalled his current physical condition, and his spirits sank. He wasn't the man he used to be; he was literally hatched with scars. No wonder she wanted nothing to do with him now.
    Pushing to his feet, Gabe crossed to his chest of drawers and fished out fresh clothing. Resigned to a "cold" shower, he crossed the hall to Mallory's bathroom, more than ready to put this trying day behind him.
    As it had last night, the sun and moon motif cheered him. He tossed his dirty clothes into the laundry basket, wondering when Helen had the time to do laundry. Maybe he'd help out while she was at work tomorrow. He'd also fix the brass hook that was coming off the wall.
    Having assigned himself those tasks, he felt moderately better. If he made himself useful, Helen would be less eager to pawn him off. And if he played his cards right, he might even get to sleep with her one day. Not that he