Darcy’s comment invited confession, but he wasn’t in the mood to admit he’d made such a big mistake.
He stood up and paced the length of the kitchen. Restlessness filled him. He wanted Darcy. Even as he questioned her, his body tightened in anticipation. Only they weren’t going to be making love today. Probably not anytime soon, if ever again. Not while he wasn’t sure about her.
What was he doing here? He should either ask her some pointed questions or get the hell out of her place. But asking questions meant hearing answers and he didn’t know if he was ready for that.
He hated the darkness inside his soul. Life had been a whole lot easier when he hadn’t worried about anyone but himself.
“I know what you need,” Darcy said in a bright tone that sounded forced. “Sugar and caffeine. Go sit in the living room and I’ll bring in some cookies and coffee.”
“No, I don’t want to eat your cookies. You’re going to sell them to the Hip Hop.”
“I’ll be giving a bunch away to the hospital, as well, so don’t worry about eating up my business. Besides, you really look like you need a cookie.”
Her blue eyes were large and innocent. She couldn’t know how much he wanted that innocence to be true.
“Okay. Cookies and coffee sound great.”
He walked into the living room, but instead of taking a seat, he prowled around.
“Do you really want coffee?” Darcy called from the kitchen. “It’s kinda late. What about milk instead.”
“Either,” he said.
On the mantel there was a picture of young girl with an attractive, well-dressed couple. He assumed it was of Darcy and her parents. Next to that was a small plant of some kind, and a pink and white box. He raised the lid, expecting to hear music. There was only silence…and the sound of his heart.
Mark stared at the folded bills neatly placed in the small box. The thick wad of money seemed to be mostly fifties. There had to be at least a couple of thousand dollars here. In cash.
He closed his eyes briefly, not wanting it to be her. Not Darcy. He wanted to find another reason for the money to be there. But the tips at the Hip Hop couldn’t be that good, and Darcy hadn’t been in town long enough for her business to take off. She didn’t even have a contract with the Hip Hop.
He slammed the top on the box and forced himself to sit on the sofa. There had to be another explanation. He refused to believe that Darcy was involved in money laundering.
She smiled as she walked into the living room. A plate of cookies took up most of the tray. Two glasses of milk nestled together. She set the tray on the coffee table and settled next to him on the sofa.
“These are my favorites,” she said, picking up a cookie in the shape of a bell and nibbling on the edge. “Actually I like the icing more than the cookies, but I can’t allow myself to sit down and eat just icing. So I choke down the cookie part, too.”
She smiled as she spoke, an easy smile that made him wonder if he’d imagined the money. But he knew he hadn’t. He felt betrayed for the second time. Something he’d never wanted to experience again.
Why did it matter if she was a criminal? He told himself he didn’t care about Darcy. So maybe they’d been lovers a few times. They might have even started to be friends, but so what?
He stood suddenly. “I have to go.”
* * *
Darcy stared after Mark. One second they’d been sitting together talking and the next, he’d been gone. What had happened? She put down the cookie she’d been eating. It seemed that her run of bad luck with men was endless.
She didn’t know why Mark had left, but she had figured out that something was very wrong. Despite his claims to the contrary, he’d been avoiding her. What she didn’t know was why. Had he found out about Dirk? Mark had sure been in detective mode with all his questions. Obviously he suspected something, but what? How could he have found out about the school and her brother’s challenges?
Did it matter? She slumped back on the sofa. For a while she’d thought that Mark’s time in caring for his sister might have made him more understanding and accepting of her situation. Obviously she’d been wrong about that, and him. He thought she was good enough to sleep with, but not good enough for anything else.
“The hell with him,” she said aloud. But her voice was a whisper, and she was having a hard time ignoring the tears pooling in her eyes.
CHAPTER NINE
Darcy knocked on the counseling office door. Andrew looked up and waved her in.
“I didn’t expect to see you until the weekend,” he said.
She took the seat opposite his. “I just wanted to drop by and say hi to Dirk.”
