And for now, that was enough, Matt told himself firmly. It was going to have to be.
* * *
“How’s it going?” Matt asked when Sara let him in later that same day. One thing was certain: the mommy in charge looked extraordinarily beautiful in navy leggings and a long-sleeved blue-and-red-striped shirt. Her hair was swept into a loose sexy knot, and her skin was glowing luminously. It appeared whatever misgivings she’d had about their reckless lovemaking had been put to rest by their long talk and amazing good-night kiss the evening before.
He knew he felt good about it. Then and now.
As if it were the beginning of something magnificent...
“Oh, Matt, you have to see this!” Sara announced happily. She made a sweeping gesture toward the center of the living area. “Charley is attempting to crawl.”
Matt followed her out of the foyer and hunkered down beside Sara’s son. The infant was lying on his tummy on a play quilt spread across the floor. Soft, cloth infant toys were scattered around him. Some within reach, others purposefully not.
“Go for it, Charley,” Sara cheered.
Charley gurgled merrily in response, seeming to understand perfectly what his mommy wanted from him.
Impressed, Matt watched Charley lift his head and all four limbs in the air with astounding athleticism, while his tummy remained flat against the blanket.
“It looks like he’s pretending to fly,” he said, as Charley “pretend-soared” a little more, making enthusiastic noises all the while, then abruptly ran out of steam and let his limbs collapse around him.
Matt eased the toy Charley was reaching for a little closer. With a grunt and a smile, the baby turned over onto his back and rolled the rest of the way toward it.
When his fingers closed on it, he gurgled happily and lifted it to his mouth.
“Way to go, little man,” Matt praised, gently touching his baby-soft cheek.
Charley gurgled happily and kicked some more.
Matt looked over at the whelping pen—which was empty—and the crate. Also empty.
Sara knelt on the other side of the blanket. Her son between them. Noting how quiet it was, Matt looked around some more. “Where’s Champ?”
“At the WTWA facility in town, working with one of the trainers. I’m supposed to meet up with them in about an hour.”
“Is that why you texted me that I didn’t need to set aside time to help you-all out today?” Or was it because they’d made love the night before, and she wanted her space, to further reconsider their plunge into physical intimacy?
Although she was clearly happy to see him, there was no clue on her pretty features as to what else she might currently want from him. At least in the romance department.
Sara looked at him from beneath her lashes. “I don’t really need you to go with me to pick Champ up, since there will be plenty of people who can help me get Champ and Charley in the SUV simultaneously. But—” she watched as her son rolled back onto his tummy again and set his sights on another toy “—if you want to tag along, it might be fun.”
He picked up on her cautious tone. “Might be?”
Abruptly, Sara looked torn. She rose lithely and walked over to the kitchen, where she’d been removing the stems of fresh strawberries. “Alyssa Barnes, the wounded infantry soldier who is going to train Champ, was just transferred to a rehab unit in Laramie, for the rest of her three-week recovery.” Sara’s voice took on an unexpectedly emotional note. “Her parents are bringing her over to WTWA, and she’s going to meet Champ for the first time.”
So much for her having her affection for the puppy under lock and key.
Noticing her eyes had taken on a suspiciously moist sheen, Matt gave Charley an affectionate pat, then rose and moved to her side. All the while giving her the chance she needed to compose herself.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her pull herself together. Their fingers touched as she handed him a luscious red berry, then took one for herself, too. “They’re expecting the meet and greet to really boost Alyssa’s morale.”
At her invitation, Matt helped himself to another berry. “She’s having a hard time?”
Sara nodded, her expression grim. “Numerous surgeries, infection, a lot of setbacks.” She handed him another couple of strawberries before putting the bowl back in the fridge. “And she has another grueling three weeks or so of PT to go before she’ll be well enough to work with Champ completely on her own. But her sister and parents have all pledged to help with that while she’s on the mend. So there’s no doubt she’ll get there.”
“When will you be turning Champ over to her?”
“We’ve set the date for the reunion picnic.”
So Sara still had time to come to terms with the goodbye to little Champ.
As did he...
Deciding they needed something else to focus on, Matt observed, “The strawberries are great, by the way.”
Sara laid a hand over her heart. “The first real bounty of spring, at least in my view!” She sighed, happy color coming into her cheeks. “I love it when they’re sweet. And tart, too.”
Unable to resist, he teased, “Kind of like you?”
“Whoa there, cowboy.” She splayed her hands across the center of his chest, blushing for a completely different reason now. “Laying on the charm a little thick today, don’t you think?”
He smirked in response.
If that was her not-so-subtle way of telling him to stop flirting, he wasn’t making any promises. Paternal instincts kicking in, he turned to check on Charley. The little boy was lying on his back, contentedly inspecting a stuffed toy in his hands.
Satisfied they had time to banter, he turned back to Sara. Let his gaze drift over her lazily. “What else do you like in the spring?”
“In terms of fresh produce?” she asked, deliberately misunderstanding what he was asking. “Pretty much everything...”
“So,” he drawled back, “the way to your heart is definitely via your taste buds.”
He could handle that. He eased his hand through the wisps of hair at the nape of her neck.
She gasped as he rained a few kisses over the soft, feminine slope of her throat. “Very funny.”
Not enough? “A few hot, sexy kisses, then.” He gathered her close.
Sara groaned. “Matt...” She used her splayed hands to put pressure on his chest.
Much more of this playing around and he’d be wanting to make love to her, here and now. “Okay.” He let her go reluctantly. “But just for the record,” he said with a wink, “I’m available whenever...and wherever, darlin’.”
His mischievous attitude had replaced the heavy drama of the night before, just as he had hoped. Sara looked happy again. Turned on. Almost carefree...
“Oh, I think you’ve made that pretty clear, cowboy.” Sara responded with a candor he hadn’t dared expect.
He noticed she wasn’t saying yes, exactly. Nor was she saying no. But they were definitely in “maybe, when the time is right again” territory.
He could definitely deal with that.
She drew a bolstering breath. “In the meantime, it’s time for us to go. We’ve got a schedule to keep.”
* * *
“OMG! This little guy is so cute!” Alyssa Barnes said as she sat and cuddled Champ in her arms.
Champ, never one to turn away any adoration, licked the red-haired former army sergeant under the chin.
Alyssa looked at Sara, her freckled face alight with joy. “Thank you for stepping in temporarily so I’ll still be able to join the program as planned and help train this little guy.”
“No problem.” Sara smiled. “You should thank Matt, too. He’s also lent a hand.”
Alyssa looked at Charley, who was cuddled up as snugly in Matt’s arms as Champ was in hers. “Is this your little b
oy?” she asked the two of them.
Sara wasn’t surprised she’d made that assumption. Matt cared for her little boy with all the love and tenderness of a Super Dad. “Charley is my son,” Sara clarified.
“Oh.” Alyssa looked taken aback, and no wonder, given the affection flowing between the two. It wasn’t just Matt who was completely besotted. Charley snuggled up to Matt with total adoration, too. “I thought...” she stammered.
Sara cut her off with a relaxed lift of her hand. “We’re just friends.” Although, part of me would like to be so much more...
“Right.” Alyssa paused. Her brow furrowed. She looked down at the black Lab in her arms. “Is it okay if I spend a little more time with Champ?”
Sara looked at Alyssa and her sister, who was there to assist since the former soldier was still in a knee brace, moving stiffly. “Take your time.” She and Matt left them in the group meeting room and shut the door behind them.
“Sara? Matt?” Hope Winslow-Lockhart, the director of WTWA public relations, strode toward them. Elegantly dressed as always, the tall blonde executive asked, “Could I have a word with the two of you?”
“Sure,” Sara and Matt said in unison.
They walked down the hall and moved into Hope’s office.
She gestured for them both to take a seat. “I wanted to update Matt about the progress we are making with the volunteer recruitment initiative, so he’ll know how his very generous donation is being spent.”
She logged on to her computer and showed them both the new social media page that had been set up.
“We want to add videos of all the people who help teach each service, therapy or companion dog. We’re going to use Star—Champ’s mother—and compile the video we already have of her during her pregnancy and the birth of her litter, to the very first eight weeks of her nine puppies’ lives, while they were all still at Sara’s ranch. And then get film of every person working with every puppy after they left the litter. We want to show how the aptitude of each dog is evaluated and let everyone know that in this case it really does take a village to train a dog.
“So, if we could get someone—say Matt—to film Sara on his phone, as she works with Champ, it would be really great.”
“I can do that,” Matt said.
If he did, it would mean they would be spending even more time together, Sara thought with surprising happiness.
“And of course we’ll get film of Alyssa Barnes as she bonds with Champ, too.”
“What do we do with the videos?” Matt asked.
Hope handed over a paper. “Just email it to the editor’s address. She’ll take it from there.” The PR director reached for another page. “I also wanted to let you both know that we’ve got a couple new support groups starting next week.”
Her expression sobered slightly. “One for widows and widowers of military personnel.”
Sara leaned forward slightly, not sure she’d heard right.
Hope continued, “The other group is for ex-soldiers who are transitioning back to civilian life.”
Matt looked about as happy as she felt. “Tell me my family didn’t put you up to this,” he said brusquely.
Expression tranquil, Hope shook her head. “I was just hoping you both might choose to participate.”
“I’m doing okay,” Sara said, still feeling a little rattled at having been singled out this way.
Hope smiled. “I know that,” she said with her trademark gentleness. “It’s why I thought you might be a good role model for the new widows.”
Sara drew a breath. Was it stuffy in here or what? All she knew was she suddenly felt slightly claustrophobic. Needing fresh air, she rose. “I don’t feel like I’m quite there yet.”
Hope stood, too. “Then you could show the others what it’s like to be midway point in your recovery,” she suggested candidly.
Sara caught a glimpse of Matt’s stone face, and forced a smile. “Thanks for the invitation,” she said, flashing a polite but firm smile, “but I am too busy with Champ and Charley right now to even consider taking on anything else.”
Hope managed not to look disappointed. “Maybe later?”
“I’ll definitely think about it,” Sara fibbed. Even though she knew she wouldn’t.
Hope turned to look at Matt.
Not surprisingly, he merely stood and said, “Sorry. Not my thing.”
* * *
An hour later, Matt drove Sara, Charley and Champ home. They woke Charley getting him out of his car seat, which he was not happy about. And when Sara sat down to feed her son his dinner, he was even crankier.
“Think it’s his teeth?” Matt asked, when Charley refused both his baby food and bottle.
Aware she had just been wondering the same thing, Sara looked in his mouth. The lower gum was pink, and a little more swollen than it had been earlier. “Maybe.”
She got out the numbing cream. And a teething ring from the freezer. Charley accepted the first, and batted the second away.
Meanwhile, little Champ—who hadn’t seemed to miss Sara and Matt at all while visiting with Alyssa and her sister—chowed down on his puppy food with enthusiasm.
Deciding her son wasn’t liable to eat or drink anything until he was in a better frame of mind, Sara took him out of his high chair and, humming softly, danced him around the kitchen.
The movement was enough to make him stop crying.
Matt watched, smiling. “You’re really good with him.”
High praise from a noted source. Sara smiled back, glad she had opted to invite him to stay on for a while longer. Which he had oh-so-willingly accepted. The fact was, she needed Matt near her tonight. “So are you.”
He cleared his throat. “Sorry Alyssa Barnes thought...”
Sara waved his unnecessary words away. “I’m not. It was an easy mistake to make.”
Eyes darkening with indecipherable emotion, Matt continued, “I’d be incredibly happy if Charley were my son.”
So would I, Sara thought.
She waited.
The disloyalty she expected never came. Wondering if she should feel guilty, she frowned.
Matt studied her.
“Does Hope ask you to join a support group a lot?” he asked.
Ah. She’d been wondering if he would bring that up. Though, like her, he didn’t really want to seem to talk about it. “This was the first time.”
He sauntered closer, his expression curious. “Did it upset you?”
Good question. Initially, she’d felt shocked, almost insulted. Then scared of what taking a step like that would bring.
Aware Matt was waiting for her answer, and that this was a very raw subject for him, too, she chose her words carefully. “I don’t want to start moving backward. I worry that dwelling on my loss in a support group, week after week, would lead me to do just that. And that would be bad for me and for Charley, and really, anyone close to me.” It seemed to her that Anthony’s death had hurt enough already.
Matt nodded. He took her hand in his, gave it a heartfelt squeeze. “Now you know how I feel,” he said.
“About joining a group where you’re forced to share your feelings with everyone?”
He nodded. “It’s not that I mind talking about what’s going on with me, privately, from time to time, when it seems appropriate. Or when I just need to vent.”
He drew her slightly closer, and Sara tightened her fingers in his, loving the solid masculine warmth of him.
“But making ‘true confessions’ isn’t something I can do on demand,” he finished gruffly.
Sara sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. “Me, either.”
Another silence fell, more companionable this time. With a soft sigh, she lifted her head. Their eyes locked, and as she gazed into his eyes, she couldn’t help but think how right it felt,
being with him. Whenever, wherever...
She smiled as her next idea hit. “Maybe we can be each other’s support-person,” she said.
Matt bent his head and kissed her tenderly, once and then again. “I’d like that,” he said.
As he gathered her close, Sara knew she would, too. Even though she still wasn’t certain when—or even if—they would make love again. Or be anything more than increasingly good friends.
Chapter Nine
Sara glanced at the clock for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past half hour. Charley cooed from his seat in the windup swing while Champ watched patiently from inside his crate.
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” she said, checking her cell phone to make sure the battery was fully charged. It was. “Matt is usually so punctual. Early even.” He was never late for Champ’s training sessions. And he hadn’t said anything about missing this one before he’d left last night.
Although, she admitted to herself, it was possible he’d been distracted by the intimate conversation and the kisses they’d shared...and had simply forgotten to tell her about an impending scheduling conflict.
“But there are innumerable reasons why he could have been held up, too,” she told her young audience, as she twisted her hair into a knot on the back of her head and secured it there with a couple of pins.
This was definitely not the same situation as the day Anthony never came back from the store. Although, she admitted to herself anxiously, it sure felt like it. Worse, she’d put some dinner on, in hopes that Matt might stay after they were done. A sign she was beginning to care too much?
Luckily, she had no more time to ruminate on it.
The sound of a pickup truck in her driveway signaled she had company. She moved to the front door and heaved a sigh of relief when she saw Matt climbing out from behind the wheel. With a friendly lift of his hand, he strode toward her.
As he neared her, she saw the shadows beneath his gray-blue eyes. His hair was wet, his handsome jaw clean-shaven except for one strip of beard along his jaw where he had missed. “Sorry,” he said gruffly, as he moved in close to give her a friendly hug hello, inundating her with the brisk, masculine scent of him. “Time got away from me.”
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