by Leanne Banks
Eli had never felt more grim in his life. Lost in his self-disgust, he sat on a bench and sifted through the contents of his lab boxes. He dreaded finding the other potentially dangerous combinations that lurked in the benign-looking cardboard.
“How’s Fletch?” Andie asked from behind him.
At the sound of her warm soft voice, his gut tightened. He looked up at her. “He’s fine. Taking a nap right now, so I decided to get through these chemicals.” A bitter taste filled his mouth as the thought hit him again that Fletch could have been injured. He turned his attention back to the box, the reality hanging through his mind. “God, he could have been hurt.”
“And you’re blaming yourself.”
Eli rejected her comfort. He was blaming himself, and he damn well should. As far as he was concerned the situation was straightforward. “I’m the adult. I’m the parent. I’m the one responsible.”
He heard her move closer. “But you couldn’t have dreamed he would put water and sodium together.”
“Maybe,” he conceded, narrowing his eyes as he continued sifting through the box. “But it’s my job to prevent accidents, to keep him safe. And it sure as hell looks like I’m doing a lousy job of it.”
“You are not,” she insisted. “You expect yourself to be a perfect parent, and parenting is not an exact science.”
Eli frowned. She hit him at a vulnerable spot. He was far more comfortable with science than with parenting. With Fletch, the stakes were too high to experiment. Frustration trickled through him. “Why do you know so much about this when you haven’t had kids?”
“I practically raised my three brothers. You wouldn’t believe the stuff they got into. They did everything from setting the house on fire to getting lost in the woods overnight to borrowing candy from the candy store without paying for it. Surprisingly enough, they survived their childhood. I did, too.” She tugged him around to face her and knelt between his knees. “You and Fletch will, too.”
Her face was so earnest, her eyes so warm. “I’d like to believe you.”
She lifted her hand to his jaw, and he wanted to absorb her into his ravaged conscience.
“Then do,” she said. “The road’s going to be bumpy. You might need some of those shock—things—”
Eli cracked a grin at the way she waved her other hand as she searched for the right word. “Absorbers,” he supplied, then stopped depriving himself and drew her closer. “How come you’re so damn sweet to a mediocre parent like me?”
Andie’s soft laughter vibrated against his throat as she slipped her arms around the back of his neck. “What an ego. There’s nothing mediocre about you, and you know it.”
He inhaled her scent and rubbed his lips against her hair. “Then why do you need to slow down? Why do you need more time?”
He felt her long sigh. “I think it’s more me than you.”
“Running?”
“No, just standing still and thinking.”
Eli groaned. “Chicken.”
She pulled back slightly, her eyebrows puckered in irritation. “I really don’t like that term.”
“Then prove me wrong.”
For a long moment, she wanted to. Her brown eyes said it all. Take me, let me take you. That glance made him ache. Then she took a short breath and seduction turned to vulnerability just before she looked away. “I don’t—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eli said before she could push him away. “You need emotional time.” He nuzzled her neck. “It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, Andie.”
“No?” she said doubtfully, and looked up at him from hooded eyes.
“No.” He kissed her because he needed to and he hoped like hell she did, too. She was warm and responsive, filling up his empty places, at the same time digging his well of need for her deeper. His heart pumped against his rib cage, and he wanted to pull her against him, onto him. He slipped his tongue past her lips, and her taste was so full of promise he wanted to howl.
He pulled away with a groan, and her dazed, sensual expression was one more scrape across his deprived soul. “It doesn’t have to be all or nothing,” he assured her, then forced a rough chuckle. “It just feels like it does.”
Chapter Ten
Her mother used to call it the blues.
Andie called it the pits.
She wished she could blame it on the weather, but the sun was persistently, annoyingly bright. Her current patients were progressing well, so it wasn’t that. Eli wasn’t pushing. In fact, he’d given her the space she requested.
So, Andie wondered, why did she feel like sighing? She could practically hear the heartrending sound of violins in the back of her mind. Why did she feel down? She brooded over the feeling as she finished her shift and walked through the hospital hallway.
“Earth to Andie,” Sam said, stepping in front of her. “Must have been one heck of a shift.”
Andie stopped and gave her friend a sheepish smile. “Sorry. I guess I’m a little tired. How’s everything with Brad?”
“I dumped him,” she said cheerfully. “He probably won’t realize it until he gets through this rotation.” She cocked her head to one side thoughtfully as she joined Andie on her path toward the exit. “I’m a little worried about my sister, though. She’s got three kids. Her husband has left her. And she’s running as wild as a March hare.”
“Your younger sister?”
Sam nodded and made a face. “Guess who’s been baby-sitting lately?”
Andie bit back a grin. “Your opportunity to experience all those repressed maternal urges.”
“Not funny.” She looked at Andie. “You really do look kinda down. Something wrong?”
Andie groaned. “Not really. I just have this irrational urge to rent a slew of sad videos and cry.”
“Yuck. Are you sure it’s not related to monthly hormonal variations?”
“Yeah.” Andie pushed open the door. “Maybe I haven’t eaten enough chocolate lately.”
“Could be. To my way of thinking, you should be celebrating. This time last year you’d just dumped Paul and shaved your head.”
Andie stopped in her tracks. She looked at Sam. Sam looked at her. Andie grimaced as the realization hit her. “My wedding—”
“Your wedding—” Sam said at the same time. She nodded. “When was it exactly?”
The date was branded on her brain. “This weekend a year ago.”
Sam frowned. “I’m working this weekend.”
“So am I. It’s no big deal,” she said, determined to believe it and irritated with herself that she’d been moping over Paul.
“Are you off Thursday?”
“Yes...”
“Okay. That settles it.” Sam had a determined gleam in her eye. “Ladies’ night out at the Carolina Club.”
Andie’s stomach turned. She shook her head. “Not the Carolina Club. It’s a serious pickup joint, which in my book equals a serious pain.”
Sam disagreed. “You need a serious distraction, and there’ll be plenty of distractions to choose from.”
Andie didn’t want that kind of distraction. Just the thought of it had the same effect on her nerves as the sound of fingernails scraping down a blackboard. “Couldn’t a bunch of us just get together and have dinner at a wonderful restaurant? We could go to that new steak place. Aside from hamburger, it’s been ages since I’ve had red meat.”
Clearly determined, Sam shook her head and laughed in a way that did not reassure Andie. “Darlin’, there’s all kinds of fresh meat at the Carolina Club.”
* * *
On Thursday night, Andie shrugged into the white jacket that covered her white shift and grimaced into the mirror. She wasn’t sure the Carolina Club was what she needed tonight, but Samantha had been right when she’d said Andie needed a distraction. Since she’d realized what was eating at her, Andie had been able to identify more specifically the basis for her feelings. Intellectually, she could tell herself this little emotional dip was normal, it would pass
soon, and it was no big deal.
But her memories scraped over her like thorns from a rosebush. It wasn’t that she wished she’d married Paul. It was the feeling of failure that plagued her. No matter how much she told herself she wasn’t at fault, she still had her secret agonizing doubts. Maybe Paul wouldn’t have strayed if she’d been prettier or if she’d been sexier.
She hated those doubts. They undermined her confidence and made her feel less appealing as a woman. Less...
The doorbell rang, interrupting her reverie. Wondering if Samantha had changed her mind about meeting at the Club, Andie grabbed her keys off the kitchen counter and opened the door to Eli.
“Hi.”
His warm gaze made her chest tighten. “Hi,” she managed.
He gave her a doubt-dissolving once-over full of masculine appreciation. “Unless someone has vastly improved the design of nursing uniforms, you must not be working tonight.”
“I’m not.”
She didn’t expound, and a heavy, questioning silence hung between them. Eli broke it. “I was going to invite you to join Fletch and me for dinner, but since you’re already committed...”
“I’m going out. It’s not a date, though,” she clarified. For some reason, she didn’t want him to think she was going out with a man. She didn’t want to play stupid games with Eli. He deserved better. “Ladies’ night out. A group of us get together for special occasions every now and then.”
Eli nodded. “A group of women from the hospital,” he concluded.
“Some,” she said, flicking on her porch light and stepping through the doorway. “Everybody knows Samantha. I guess she’s both the instigator and the common denominator.”
Eli stepped aside while she locked the door behind her. She turned back around to find him mere inches from her.
“Men are going to hit on you tonight,” he told her, his voice carefully neutral.
“I think that was Sam’s plan,” she said dryly.
Something hot and reckless flickered through his eyes. “Then let me be the first.” He dipped his head closer to hers and brushed his mouth over her lips. A brief kindling, claiming kiss that took her breath and jacked her heart into overdrive. Then he pulled away, shoving his hands into his pockets as if he could barely keep from touching her.
Andie just stared at him, rocked by her body’s immediate response to him. She sucked in a quick breath and swallowed hard.
“What’s the special occasion you’re celebrating tonight?” he asked, his gaze returning to her mouth.
Andie glanced away so she could think. The reason she was celebrating tonight. Her emotions jerked from one end of the spectrum to another, plunging her into the mire of yesterday’s broken promises and disappointments. Avoiding Eli’s gaze, she shook her head. “I’m chasing some memories.”
* * *
“Why is there a gh in night?” Fletch asked as Eli sat beside him and read a bedtime story.
The question gave Eli a moment’s pause. “It’s silent. Sometimes there are letters in words that aren’t pronounced.”
Fletch frowned. “Then why put ‘em there?”
Eli chuckled. “Good question. We’ll have to ask Mr. Webster.”
“Who’s Mr. Webster?”
“He’s the one who put together that big fat dictionary in my library.” He arched his eyebrow and looked at Fletch. “Would you like to read, or do you want me to finish?”
Fletch snuggled further under the covers and hugged his stuffed llama to his chest. “You.”
In the quiet of the evening, with his mind drifting back to Andie, Eli finished the story about a little boy named Freddie and his adventure at summer camp. He was so distracted he almost missed the opportunity to see if Fletch was still resistant to the idea of a structured environment. “I hear Jennifer’s going to summer camp in two weeks.”
Fletch’s eyes widened. “She’s gonna sleep there?”
“No, she’s just going for a few hours a day. She’ll do things like go swimming and draw pictures and play games and probably eat Popsicles.”
Fletch was silent for a long moment. “I like Popsicles,” he said quietly.
Eli smothered a smile and nodded.
“I want to learn how to swim, too.”
“That’s good. Maybe you can learn next summer.” He leaned down to kiss his son and rose from the bed. “Get some sleep.”
Moving in silence, Eli flicked off the table lamp, turned on the Flintstones night-light and walked toward the door.
“Does she get to wear her tutu?” Fletch asked.
This time Eli did smile. “I can’t imagine Jennifer going anywhere without her tutu, although she might have to take it off if she doesn’t want to get it wet in the pool.” He waited a few seconds, practically hearing the gears of his son’s quick brain turn. “I love you. Good—”
“Well, what if I maybe—sorta—might, just might,” he emphasized, “want to go to day camp with Jennifer?”
Eli’s heart twisted at the strained sound of his son’s voice. Even though he knew Fletch was bored out of his mind, there was no way Eli would push him, not when Fletch was so obviously torn. Eli went back to the bed and crouched down beside it. “You don’t have to decide tonight, Fletch.” He tucked the covers around his son and ruffled his hair. “Why don’t you just sleep on it?”
Fletch gave a heavy sigh of relief and nodded. “Okay.” He lifted his arms in the universal request for a hug. “I love you, Dad.”
Eli’s chest expanded as he held his son. It amazed him how much power Fletch held. He thought of the awards and recognition he’d received, but none of it came close to the swelling of pride and emotion that filled his gut at Fletch’s affection.
After a few minutes, he left Fletch’s room and wandered down to his study. Adjusting the heavy drapes, he glanced out the window at Andie’s house and his sense of well-being turned to restlessness.
Chasing memories, she’d said. It had something to do with the man she’d been engaged to. The knowledge was a splinter inside him, bringing back his own memories. He and Gail hadn’t argued, but they hadn’t talked much, either. He remembered the day Gail had asked him to leave, and the bone-deep failure he’d felt.
He’d been unable to read Gail. Conversely, he could read Andie’s emotions. The ability gave him a rush. It also made him possessive and impatient. He’d never been consumed by such an incredible urge to absorb a woman, to join his body and mind and whatever else that was inside him with a woman—Andie.
Primitive and unyielding, the drive dominated his waking thoughts. He frowned, thinking again of Gail. He didn’t want the same thing to happen with Andie.
Resolve hardened inside him. He might be able to read Andie, but he didn’t understand her. Understanding required proximity.
* * *
Andie slammed the car door closed and crossed her arms over her chest as she walked toward her door. Grateful for Samantha’s effort to cheer her up, she’d smiled, she’d laughed and she’d had a reasonably good time. Unfortunately, the laughter and the conversation hadn’t filled up the emptiness inside her. The emptiness was odd, and she greatly resented it. She wanted—no, needed—to be self-sufficient. Add in her distraction with Eli and Andie was totally disgusted with herself. He might as well have kissed her one minute ago instead of hours before. Her mind was still scrambled.
She glanced at his dark house and figured he was asleep. Must be nice. Fumbling for her key, she unlocked the door and shoved it open. She dumped her purse on the kitchen table, stepped out of her shoes and scooped them up in one hand. After shrugging off her jacket, she’d already walked partway down the hall before she noticed the light in the den.
Although unable to recall leaving that light on, she shrugged and headed back to turn it off. She stopped when she saw Eli sitting in one of her wing-back recliners and reading a journal. For a moment she wondered how he’d gotten in, then she remembered giving him a key in case she locked herself out.
“I guess,” she managed. Her stomach tightened at his intent gaze. “I—uh—what are you doing here?”
Removing his glasses and setting aside the journal, he rose from the chair and walked toward her. “Waiting for you.” He took her shoes, then took her hand and led her back toward the recliner.
Andie was too off-balance to protest. If she’d been surprised before, she was stunned now. And more moved than she’d ever be able to explain. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. Her throat tightened. “Why?” she asked in a husky voice.
“You were upset earlier. I didn’t want you to be alone.”
Staring at him, she felt her defenses crumble. She shook her head. “I don’t know what to say. No one’s ever waited for me before.” Particularly a man.
With the ease of a man who knew he was in for the long haul, he shifted his hips so that she sank against him, then wrapped his hand possessively around her hip. “Before you left, you said you were chasing memories. I’m not sure what you’re running from, but if you’re going to run,” he told her, his voice low and sure, “run to me.”
Her heart filled her chest, and she tried to breathe. She struggled with the urge to run. Now more than ever, it was clear why she’d tried to keep her distance from Eli. Her instinct had been right on target. He had the power to touch a part of herself she kept hidden from everyone. It was enough to frighten the dickens out of her, but he was giving her every reason to trust him.
“If you’re chasing memories, Andie, I want to be the man to help you chase them.”
His quiet assertion was more effective than a dozen grand gestures. His gaze was so steady. Everything about him said, “Count on me.” Floundering on her own, she looked away. “It’s hard to explain—what’s been going on the past few days. I’m not sure it really makes sense.”
