Sasha’s Dad

by Geri Krotow

  She placed her hand in his.

  “You look beautiful.” Dutch spoke as they walked out to the car.

  “Thank you.” She’d bought the pink spring dress especially for tonight. Casual but unmistakably feminine. It was sheath-style with a low-cut back, and the hem ended right above her knees. A lacy white cotton cardigan and strappy sandals made her feel elegant. Even sexy.

  “Where’s your truck?” She blinked at the dark convertible parked in her driveway.

  “At home.” He escorted her to the passenger door. The wind caught his aftershave and its clean crisp scent tickled Claire’s nose. Yummy.

  “I didn’t know you had another vehicle.”

  She slid into the black leather seat and he closed the door. “I keep it in the garage most of the time, especially in the winter,” he said as he got in, then started the engine. “But I need it for nights like tonight.” His eyes expressed the warmth of his mood.

  Her awareness of him strung her nerves tight and they hadn’t even left the driveway.

  “How old is it?” She couldn’t care less how old the car was. Whatever kept the conversation going—and away from more personal concerns—was fine with her. Anything to distract her from this close proximity to Dutch.

  “I bought it for Natalie, but she never got around to driving it.” He said it matter-of-factly, without sorrow or remorse. Claire took the opportunity to look at him as they drove onto the highway toward Baltimore.

  “That’s too bad. She would’ve loved it.” Claire glanced around the plush interior. It was incongruous with the Dutch she knew. But tonight he was dressed up, and together she imagined they looked more like a city couple than a fiber farmer and large-animal veterinarian.

  Shivers ran up her forearms, but not from the wind that blew around in the windshield. She’d thought of them as a couple. Until now she’d been so careful to keep them separate and apart in her mind. To her credit she’d never allowed her fantasies to inhabit a world where she and Dutch got along and were maybe even friends.

  Or more.

  “Are you warm enough?” Dutch had to shout over the wind and the noise of traffic. Even though the air was still crisp, the heated seats kept her comfortable.

  “Absolutely! This is so much fun.” Claire was grateful for the inconvenience of conversation at the moment. She needed mental space to get her thoughts in order.

  And she needed to cool her body’s reaction to Dutch or they wouldn’t make it past the appetizers.

  “Sit back and enjoy the ride,” he shouted and grabbed her hand. He held it under his on the leather upholstery.

  Claire’s breathing sped up and she felt her heart quicken. This was going to ruin any attempts she made to distance herself emotionally from Dutch. The attraction that existed whether she acknowledged it or not. It simmered continually, and the tension kept her awareness of him constant. No matter where they were or what they talked about, it was there.

  The silent promise that there could be something more between them if they could ever get past their emotional roadblocks.

  She hoped she’d be able to enjoy the night and tried to pay attention to the evening sky.

  They hit the Baltimore city limits and the water of the Inner Harbor spread out to their right.

  The tension stretched Claire’s nerves further than she’d realized they could be stretched. Dealing with her emotions over Natalie’s life and death was hard enough for her. Trying to offer Sasha the support and love she craved added to the pressure, but time with Sasha gave her far more than she’d ever be able to give Sasha. It was her desire for Dutch that pushed her to the edge of her self-control.

  Claire leaned her head back and sank farther into the heated seat. As she observed the brilliant view of the Inner Harbor, she vowed to let it all go, if only for tonight. The sexual tension with Dutch might reach a bailing point. As long as she didn’t forget that anything that happened between them would be just that—between them. And it wouldn’t mean anything other than two people acting out of perfectly normal physical need.

  DUTCH MANEUVERED the car through the city streets to a parking garage. He pulled into a spot on the roof and decided to take the elevator to street level. Claire’s shoes didn’t look as though they’d do well on metal stairs, and he liked the idea of being in an elevator with Claire.

  Alone.

  There’d be no going back if he took this too far, but he was tired of analyzing everything he did. The truth was that Claire had done a hell of a lot for him and Sasha. Especially for Sasha. He knew he was overprotective of his daughter, but he did know how to be a gentleman. He owed Claire a nice evening out, an adult thank-you. Even with their less-than-ideal past, he and Claire had been friends once. They could be again.

  “Friends with benefits” is more like it.

  He silently cursed himself for the thought and ushered her into the elevator. He put his hand on the small of her back and was thrilled to find that under her sweater her dress was open down to the base of her spine.

  “Thanks.” She went to move away, but as the door shut he pulled her to him.

  “Claire.” He rested his forehead on hers and was encouraged when she didn’t draw back. “Let’s put the knives away for tonight and just have a good time.”

  She didn’t respond, but closed her eyes. He took the opportunity to touch her lips with his. She sighed against his mouth and he marveled at the softness of hers. He deepened the kiss.

  The elevator dinged its arrival at the ground floor and the doors opened. Before Dutch could think straight enough to step back he heard a cough. He lifted his head and looked into Claire’s laughing green eyes.

  “Excuse us.” He addressed the family that waited outside the elevator.

  “You were kissing her!” A little boy he’d guess aged three or four pointed at him. The boy had a red balloon tied to his arm and it shook at Dutch.

  “Yes, I was.” Dutch glanced at the boy’s parents, who didn’t meet his gaze as they ushered their son onto the elevator.

  “Way to be cool,” he muttered in self-derision.

  Claire grinned. “We’ll never see them again. Besides, if that little boy hasn’t seen his parents doing the same thing, then I’m sorry for all of them.”

  Dutch took Claire’s hand and pulled her close to his side. The breeze had picked up, flattening her hair around her face. This was going to be a long dinner. Visions of all the things he wanted to do with Claire tormented him.

  “What’s wrong?” Lines appeared between Claire’s brows.

  “Wrong? Nothing.” He took the leap. “Only that we’re not alone right now.”

  He felt the shudder that ran up her arm.

  She felt it, too. Their desire was mutual and strong.

  He came to a halt near a retail building and eased her under the awning. The shoe store was closed as the nightlife began.

  He continued to hold her with one hand and cupped her face with the other. She looked up at him, and he’d never seen such a beautiful expression of trust.

  “Claire, you can tell me to stop right now.”

  She returned his gaze with a steady consideration that made him hard. Hell, everything about her made him hard.

  “Let’s do our best to enjoy our dinner, okay?” The huskiness in her voice stoked his fire as if she’d physically touched him.

  He leaned in to kiss her and stopped himself. They were on one of the busiest streets in Baltimore, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to push her up against the building and make love to her.

  “Okay.” He breathed in and straightened. Claire’s face was neutral, but he didn’t miss the shine of need in her eyes. She hadn’t said no.

  CLAIRE SIPPED her cabernet sauvignon. “Mmm.” The wine’s chocolate notes filled her palate. Its warmth was a perfect complement to the heat building from the nearness of Dutch.

  “I’m glad you like it, but are you sure you don’t want a glass of white to go with your rockfish?”

&
nbsp; “No, no. This is lovely, thank you.” She ran her finger around the bottom of the crystal stem. “It’s not supposed to matter anymore, is it? What wine you drink with what? As long as you like it.”

  “Hmm.” Claire reveled in the solid lines of his face, made deeper and sexier by candlelight. How had the boy she’d grown up with turned into such a compellingly attractive man?

  “What do you suppose Sasha’s doing now?” The question left her mouth without any thought. Thinking about Sasha had become a big part of her day.

  A smile tugged at his lips. “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason. I hope she’s having a good evening.” Claire met his eyes and a laugh escaped her. “Okay. I do feel a bit guilty enjoying all of this without her.”

  “Why would you feel guilty? Sasha’s twelve. Sure, she likes to come out with us and eat good food, but she’d be bored sitting here tonight.”

  And horrified that Dutch and Claire were throwing off sexual sparks like a transformer hit by lightning.

  “She’s on the school band trip, so I know she’s safe and having a great time.” Claire sipped her wine. “I wouldn’t feel as comfortable if she was alone with Naomi.”

  “Naomi? Why on earth would you ever think I’d allow her to spend time alone with Naomi?” He’d told Claire after he’d spoken to Naomi’s parents that, while he’d been discouraged by their blasé approach with their daughter, they’d assured him she was doing fine.

  “Sasha’s watching some of her childhood friends take different directions,” Claire said carefully. “It’s not easy. But she’s sticking to her guns and hanging out with the well-balanced kids. You should be very proud, Dutch. Sasha has a good head on her shoulders.”

  “Yes, she does, and I have to thank you for helping her through these recent adolescent growing pains. She’s grown so much in just a couple of months.”

  Claire leaned forward. She hated seeing him upset in any way over Sasha. He was such a good father.

  “Dutch, don’t worry about Naomi or any of Sasha’s less-than-desirable classmates. She has a heart of gold, true, but she doesn’t go looking for trouble.”

  “Hmm.” He stared at his wine and Claire was entranced as the flicker of candlelight sparked blue stars in his eyes.

  “Claire?”

  “Yes?”

  He reached across the table and held her hand.

  “Let’s not bring Sasha up again, okay? Tonight’s for us.”

  Desire flamed inside her, and she smiled at him while wondering how she’d manage to eat her dinner when it was pretty clear what Dutch had planned for dessert.

  Claire loved dessert.

  THEY ATE SPRING leaf salad with mandarin orange sections and raspberry vinaigrette. Claire sampled Dutch’s filet mignon and he tasted her broiled rockfish.

  They talked. And talked some more. Claire did her best to catch Dutch up on everything she’d done in D.C. and during her first two years back in Dovetail. Dutch informed her of what he’d accomplished in vet school, afterward and in his business.

  They didn’t mention Sasha again. But they couldn’t avoid Natalie.

  Claire still felt guarded whenever Dutch talked to her about Natalie.

  Tonight, though, his defenses were down. “I was so happy,” he said. “We were so happy. When Sasha was born we often spoke of how blessed we were.” She found his naked sincerity very moving.

  “We were still so young, Claire. We’d finished college, got married and I still had vet school ahead of front of me. Yet we had a great income from Natalie’s work as a state archivist, and it was all manageable.” He sighed. “Until she got sick and it all went to hell.”

  He tapped his fingers on the table. “After the shock wore off, we were positive and hopeful. Her oncologist had several patients who’d beaten incredible odds and were in complete remission. But then the cancer came back a second and a third time.” He rubbed his knuckles on the linen tablecloth.

  Claire stayed silent.

  “Natalie wasn’t one of the lucky ones,” he murmured.

  “She was lucky, Dutch, in that she had you and Sasha. I know she didn’t want to leave her life so early and would’ve done anything to stay here and raise her daughter. She never would’ve chosen to leave you. But your love and devotion gave her great comfort. And she knew you’d take care of Sasha.”

  Dutch looked up and Claire was shocked to see tears in his eyes. “I couldn’t save her, Claire. I would’ve done anything. Anything.” He broke eye contact and turned his head to the side. When he looked back at her, his eyes were brooding, dark.

  “It was pure hell at times, but I never questioned it. Whatever it took to take care of Natalie was what I’d do. But I felt so much guilt that she was the one who got sick and not me. Sasha needed her mother more than a father and…it was all so unfair.”

  Claire didn’t speak and he went on.

  “She was sick for a very long time, Claire. The last three years we had no intimacy. All her strength went to fighting the cancer. I missed her, I missed us. And I don’t want to sound selfish, but I missed our lovemaking.”

  Claire shook her head mutely.

  “In the end it came down to assuring her that it was okay to go. That we’d all be okay. She’d suffered enough.” Dutch looked at her. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to tell your wife that it’s okay to die because she’s suffered too much?”

  “No, I don’t,” Claire whispered. The desire she’d felt had turned to waves of empathy for Dutch. Her guilt over her consuming attraction to Dutch hit bottom. How could she even think of being more than a friend to Dutch? How could she have thought of involving Sasha in what could never be a permanent relationship with her dad?

  “No, of course you don’t understand. How could you? Why would you?” Dutch grasped her hand. “I don’t blame anyone anymore, Claire. There are no guarantees in this lifetime. Trust me, if there were, I would’ve cashed in on them long ago.”

  “Dutch, you and Sasha have been through a lot. You both have so much life still ahead of you. I really believe that for the two of you the best is yet to come.”

  She pulled her hand away and fiddled with her coffee spoon, embarrassed by the clichés she’d just spouted.

  “Claire, I never meant to burden you with any of this.” Dutch’s voice was apologetic.

  “You’re not burdening me with anything, Dutch.” She leaned back in her chair. “What you have done, though, is remind me why this—” she motioned between them “—is destined to remain a friendship. Period.”

  His eyes narrowed and he, too, leaned back in his chair. “Oh?”

  “Like I said, Sasha’s been through so much. She deserves, and you deserve, a fresh start. No baggage from anyone’s past.” She gave him a smile then. It was the hardest smile she’d produced in a long while, maybe ever.

  He seemed surprised for a moment. Then clouds of disappointment rolled in over his expression and put the more familiar frown on his face. “So that’s it? End of story?”

  Claire sighed. “Pretty much. It has to be this way, doesn’t it, Dutch?”

  He shrugged, didn’t respond.

  She splayed her fingers on the tabletop. “Of course, I’ll be here for Sasha, and I won’t let you stop her from seeing me. Not that you plan to. But I promised you when all of this started with Sasha that I’d put her first. Always. I meant it, Dutch.”

  This wasn’t about her. Even if she and Dutch could contemplate a romantic relationship, their mutual history would prevent it from becoming permanent.

  As she’d told him, Dutch deserved better. Sasha deserved better.

  If Claire was going to live her newfound respect for the basics in life, she needed to take a fire hose to her lust for Dutch.

  For Sasha’s sake, if nothing else.

  CLAIRE COULDN’T REMEMBER the ride back to Dovetail ever taking so long.

  She studied his profile. His face was stern, which was evident even in the dark interior of the car. He�
�d kept the convertible top closed as raindrops had begun to fall on their walk from the restaurant to the car.

  There wasn’t any more conversation; they’d said all they needed to say. Her throat constricted and she knew she’d grieve the loss of the relationship they’d almost had, but she also knew they were doing what was best. Not just for Sasha, but for themselves.

  It would only lead to constant disappointment if Dutch looked for Natalie every time he was with Claire….

  She focused on the scene outside the passenger window as the trees sped by. When Dutch pulled into her driveway, she grabbed her purse and scarf. This was not going to be a prolonged goodbye.

  He shifted the car into Park and Claire touched the door handle.

  “Claire, wait.” His voice was soft. Defeated?

  She paused.

  “This isn’t the way we should end things. So…rough around the edges.”

  “Don’t worry, Dutch, I won’t let it affect Sasha or my time with her. And you and I don’t have to talk except where Sasha or the llamas are concerned.”

  “This isn’t about Sasha, Claire. Or the llamas.”

  “They’re all it’s about, Dutch.” Tears threatened, and she didn’t want to go through another heart-shredding dialogue with him.

  Big splats of rain hit the windshield and the lightning they’d driven through lit up the sky around them.

  “I’m going in before I get soaked. Thanks for dinner, and I’ll see Sasha next week.” Claire opened the door and hurried out into the wind and rain. She slammed the door shut and before she could change her mind made a fast break for the house.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  DUTCH LOOKED THROUGH his windshield and saw the stubborn lines of Claire’s face, the determination in her stride. He listed every reason to let her go, to pull out of the driveway now.

  A clap of thunder and simultaneous bolt of lightning were like electrical paddles to his heart.

  You fool. You can’t let her go. This is the time you two are supposed to have.

  He pushed open his door and yelled as he stepped out. “Claire!”