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skipping treatments won’t do that.”
    “I need a break. And—”
    “The façade of feeling better is dangerous,” I warn, firming my voice. “Take the hits and be done with it.”
    “That’s what I keep telling her,” my father inserts.
    She glowers over her shoulder at him. “I was worried about both of you,” she tells him, then turns to me again. “How long will you be here? What’s happening with the police?”
    “I’ll be here indefinitely—so we have plenty of time to catch up.”
    Surprise registers on her face. “Indefinitely? But what about Allure?”
    “I’m not worried about Allure. I made arrangements to be away as long as needed.”
    She doesn’t look convinced. “You’re sure?”
    “Positive enough to have a realtor finding me an apartment.”
    “You can stay with us,” she says. “Our place is huge. We won’t even know you’re there.”
    “I might just buy a place here,” I tell her, instead of admitting that I’m a magnet for trouble. “No matter what, I’ll be close.” I lean back on my haunches. “Reba will be here to pick you up any second. Let’s get you in the chair.”
    Ms. Smith takes that as her cue to stand, but loses her balance. Instinctively, I reach out and catch her arm before she ends up sprawled on the floor. She grabs my arm in return, and what I feel between us is too present and powerful to dismiss. I have failed to end what I started.
    Crystal . . .
    As I stare into Mark’s eyes, I try to remember the anger I’d felt last night—and this morning. He’s like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and right now he’s the man I’d been falling for, the man who cares for his family with such deep love that he tore down the walls I’d erected early in life.
    He stands and pulls me up with him before his hands, those big, wonderful hands, slip away, leaving me aching for their return. Fifteen minutes ago, I would have sworn that I never wanted him to touch me again.
    “Thank you,” I say, and while he only nods, there’s appreciation in his eyes for my being here for him and his family.
    We break eye contact to find his parents staring at us. If Mark notices, he doesn’t act like it, merely reaching for his mother’s arm. “Let’s get you up before Reba has my hide for delaying her schedule.”
    As if she were waiting to be announced, Reba enters the room with an “Are we ready?”
    “We are,” Mark assures her as Dana settles into the chair. “Right, Mother?”
    “No,” his mother retorts. “But I’ll go.”
    It hurts my heart to hear this vibrant, powerful woman sound like a punished child.
    “Grumble, grumble,” Reba teases. “Boy, am I ready for you to order me around again so I can tell you I’m not your employee.” She gestures toward me. “That’s what she said this past weekend, too.”
    I smile. “Only I am her employee, so I do have to take orders.”
    “Actually,” Mark amends too softly, “you’re mine now.”
    My gaze jerks to his intense gray one, and heat flushes my skin at the possessiveness there. Unbidden, the memory of him saying “I’ll own you” is in my mind. My chin lifts rebelliously, delivering the message “No one owns me, and that will never change, most especially not for you.”
    His father moves between us, giving me a blessed chance to breathe. “I’ll push my wife,” he tells Reba. “We’ll talk baseball on the way to the treatment room, and she’ll tell me everything I’m doing wrong with the team.”
    “It’s the pitching,” Dana immediately says, catching on to the bone he’s thrown her. “You have no one with the level head that Mark had on the mound.”
    “Yeah, yeah,” Steven replies, pushing her toward the door. “So you’ve told me for ten years—and I might remind you that I’ve won four championships?”
    No one with the level head that Mark had on the mound. I stare at the doorway as they disappear into the hallway, remembering a similar comment on another occasion. It’s