I’d given up telling myself not to worry.

It was a waste of time because all I could do was worry, and every minute that passed without Briar responding to my texts made that ugly fear settle its hooks in deeper and deeper.

After I left her place, I went to the tattoo shop and packed up what little I’d brought from Miami. None of it had any significant value to me, but I wasn’t about to leave it there for that asshole Jerrel to toss out either.

I’d fit it all into a single duffel bag and tossed it into the battered old Camry. It was a damn good thing I’d picked that car up when I had, because I definitely wouldn’t be able to use Jerrel’s van. Public transportation wasn’t exactly the most convenient option in the world either.

Plus, as I sat in the car, eying the time and waiting for Briar, having the car meant I could at least be out of the wind.

It was edging up on five o’clock, and she was still inside the emergency department. She’d had late days before, so I wasn’t too concerned about it, but I sure as hell wished she’d appear already.

This not seeing her thing was for the fucking birds.

I checked my phone one more time, even though it had only been ten minutes since I’d last looked, hoping I’d somehow missed the arrival of a text.

There was nothing, just as I’d known there’d be.

I scrolled through each of the texts, studying each word, each sentence to make sure I hadn’t given anything away. I didn’t want her realizing I’d seen her talking to Jerrel. I wanted her to ask me about it so I could get a read on what she thought, although the complete and utter lack of communication from her already had me uneasy.

“Could be nothing, mate,” I told myself. “She’s had busy days before, after all.” My eyes drifted to the time on my phone as if I needed more evidence that she was very likely having a very busy day. If she’d caught one of the crazy cases she liked to talk about, she could spend four or five hours in surgery easy, right?

Dropping the phone back into the cup holder, I dropped my head onto the padded rest and closed my eyes.

Maybe she wouldn’t believe Jerrel. I mean, if he came up to me and started spinning a tale for me, I wouldn’t believe him. He wasn’t exactly the most trustworthy sort, after all.

“Shit,” I muttered. Opening my eyes, I stared hard at my reflection. “And you think you are, MacTavish?”

I’d been lying to Briar from the start. They were lies of omission, for certain, but lies, all the same. Lying to her, using her. I wasn’t any more trustworthy than Jerrel Waddell was.

Just as I was starting to think about my many, many character flaws, I glanced down the pavement and caught sight of two figures. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized Briar. I’d recognize her anywhere. She had a smile on her face, and she was looking up at the person next to her.

He was vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him. Automatically, I took him in. Tall and broad—bigger than me, even. I could tell from how petite Briar looked next to him. He looked smooth and polished, with his closely cropped dark hair, rich dark skin and a long dress coat that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe—including all the clothes I’d left back in Miami. He said something to Briar, and she laughed.

Jealousy exploded through me, and I got out of the car, slamming the door behind me. The bang echoed through the quiet lot, and as their heads turned my way, I strode toward them.

Every muscle in my body had gone tense, and it only got worse as I caught sight of Briar’s expression.

There was no welcoming smile, no softening of her eyes.

In fact, the warmth that had been directed at the man at her side chilled as she caught sight of me, and I felt my temper fray even more.

“Cormac,” she said, canting her head to the side. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”

“That’s surprising, considering I texted you a good two hours ago to let you know I’d like to meet you here so we could go out for dinner. Since you never bothered to answer, I figured you were okay with the plan.”

She brushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. The expression on her face remained remote. “I spent most of the afternoon in surgery. I haven’t had much time to check messages today.”

Her eyes darted away for just a fraction of a second, and I knew she wasn’t being entirely honest. Oh, I had no doubts she’d spent a fair amount of time in surgery. She was a fuckin’ doctor and all, but she knew I’d been texting her.

Sliding my gaze to the man at her side, I gave him a toothy smile. “Hello.”

“Hello.” He inclined his head, a polite smile on his face. It dawned on me where I’d seen him before. He was the doctor who first came in to treat me the night I showed up here drunk off my arse and looking for Briar.

“Would you mind giving Briar and me a few moments, doc?”

“Actually, Dr. Downing and I were discussing a case, Mr…” He lifted both eyebrows, the smile still firmly in place.

Briar reached over and rested a hand on his arm. She shook her head, a sigh escaping her. “It’s okay, Terrence,” she said.

Terrence. Why the bloody fuck is she calling him by his first name?

I kept the question behind my teeth, but I sure as hell didn’t like it, and I didn’t like the friendliness in her tone either, especially considering how cool she was when she spoke to me.

Calm down, the more rational part of my brain warned.

It was hard to listen to rational as the two doctors turned and spoke to each other, both in voices too low for me to make out. Briar gave the big guy a reassuring smile and patted his arm.

He flicked a look at me, a long, measuring gaze before he finally nodded at Briar. “You call if you need to talk, okay?”

“Of course. Thank you. And thanks for bringing me in on that case. It was fascinating.”

“You did good work.” He nodded at her and turned, walking away.

Briar looked back at me. Her cheeks were flushed. I suspected it was a mix of cold and anger that brought that pretty pink color to her cheeks, and as she moved closer, I caught sight of the glitter in her eyes. Oh, yeah. She was pissed.

“You two seemed right friendly,” I said, unable to tamp the jealousy down.

She curled her lip at me. “We work together. That tends to happen when you’re not an asshole and don’t go picking fights with your co-workers.”

As far as jabs went, it wasn’t subtle at all, but clearly, she wasn’t trying to be subtle.

Since I knew I was an asshole, I didn’t let the comment concern me.

“Is he the reason you’ve been dodging me all day?” I demanded, closing the distance between us.

Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”

I cupped her chin in my hand. “Yeah, seriously,” I said, mocking her scathing tone.

“You’re a piece of work. I mean, for real. A piece of work.” She jerked away. “You have any idea how torn up I was over you? You slap at me with that comment about my brothers, and you did it just to hurt me, but you are such a hypocrite.”

A sick feeling settled inside me, but before I could figure out what to say, she continued, her voice harsh, words coming out like jagged spikes. “I was beating myself up over all of this. I had no idea what kind of shit my brothers were involved in, but I knew it was bad. Then you throw that at me, and I start thinking about all these fights you get in…you love violence. You crave it. I had myself convinced that maybe there was something in me that thought I’d needed that in a guy. After all, it’s in my blood, right? The things I’ve learned about my family?” She laughed, and the sound broke off into something perilously close to a sob.

Anger and frustration rose inside me, bitter, thick, and vile.

“I was wrong. I was beating myself up over nothing. My family isn’t perfect, but there’s one very clear difference between them and you. They would never set out to hurt somebody they loved.”

Those words caught me off-guard, raking sharp talons across my already battered heart. Defensively, I snapped, “Who in the hell said anything about love, sweetheart?”

She jerked back as if I’d slapped her, and even as that sick sensation spread through me, her expression smoothed out and went black.

“Absolutely nobody. You’re right. I guess I was reading more into things than was there.” Her face flushed once more, but now her cheeks were a hot, brilliant red and the glitter in her eyes had nothing to do with anger.

The look of embarrassment and self-consciousness on her face didn’t make me feel any better, and I went to lift a hand.

She turned away without saying another word. Meanwhile, I stood there, feeling like a complete ass with my hand outstretched.

She climbed into her car and drove off without so much as looking at me.

Curling my hand into a fist, I lifted my face to the sky as the first few snowflakes started to fall.

I’d never felt so foolish, so frustrated, and so angry at myself in my entire life.

And I had nobody to blame but myself.