“I’ve heard of it. Just south of Santa Barbara. Quaint little beach resort town.”
She glanced at him and nodded. “We used to spend summers there. Dad used to join us on weekends and whenever he could get away from work.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s a doctor. Family practice.”
“I guess that’s why you went into medicine?”
“Maybe. My sister’s a nurse, too.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister,” he said.
“That’s because I didn’t tell you. I have a brother, too.”
“So tell me about them.”
“Dan is the oldest. He’s an architect. Cassie is a little older than me. She lived in Phoenix until recently.”
“What brought her back?”
“A bad relationship there followed by a good job here. She came home unexpectedly and caught her fiancé in bed with her roommate.” She crossed one shapely leg over the other and braced her hands on the cement wall. Her fingers brushed his thigh, sending sparks of heat arcing through him.
“That’s too bad,” he said automatically.
“Actually, it all worked out for the best. She planned to spend a month at the condo with her friend from school, but Mandy patched things up with her ex-husband, leaving Cass high and dry. As it happens, Kyle Stratton, the son of our duplex neighbors happened to be there, too.”
“Isn’t that handy?”
“Fortuitous,” she said, grinning. “Cassie’s been in love with him since she was a kid. And he finally realized he loves her, too. They’re getting married next month.”
“How nice.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Who was he to rain on someone else’s parade just because it wasn’t in the cards for him?
“You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who believes in happy endings.”
“Don’t let this gruff, battered exterior fool you.”
“Scoff if you want.” Megan stared at the surf crashing onto the shore. “I’m glad Cassie found someone. If she can do it, maybe there’s hope for me.”
“So you’re looking for rainbows and moonlight?”
One eyebrow rose. “Who knew a poet lurked beneath that gruff exterior? I don’t know. Cassie used to say I was the only one who got dumped worse than she did—”
“What?” he prompted when she stopped suddenly. There was a surprised, almost guilty expression on her face. As if she hadn’t meant for that to slip out.
“Nothing. I’m just happy for her.” She studied the few people who strolled the sand. “I love the beach. It reminds me of good times when I was a kid. It was a perfect childhood.”
“There’s no such thing.” The words came out harsher than he intended. But when he thought of Marcus, his young life cut short, bitterness, anger and guilt welled up inside him.
“I know,” she said, her glance questioning, but she didn’t comment on his surly tone. “But mine was just about as good as it gets. I wish—”
“What?”
“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head to get loose strands of hair out of her eyes.
“You wish you could give Bayleigh a perfect childhood.”
“Yes. How did you know?”
He laughed. “You’re an open book, Megan.”
“Then you should be able to read my guilt.” She sighed. “She’s such a good kid.”
“Is she actually a kid? She sounded like a miniature adult on the phone.”
A smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “We’ve been working on her technique because she likes answering the phone.” She met his gaze, then looked into the distance. “She’s so sweet, so uncomplaining. I dream about giving her the kind of growing up experience I had. A home. A family who loves her. A mother and father.”
“You need a man.”
He hadn’t meant to say that. It came out because the longer he was around Megan the more he realized he needed a woman. Forcing himself to ignore the feeling, he tried to concentrate on what she’d said.
“I don’t need a man,” she huffed.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Get your mind out of the gutter, Nurse Brightwell.”
“I beg your pardon,” she said, self-consciously rubbing a finger along the side of her nose.
“By definition fathers are men. That’s all I was saying.”
“Can’t argue with that logic. The problem is, anyone I’m attracted to isn’t willing to take on a child, too. Bayleigh and I are a package deal.”
Any man would be lucky to have a woman like Megan in his life. And the blessing of a child… Simon closed his eyes against the soul-deep pain that made it difficult to breathe. He would give anything to have his child back. What kind of guys was she hanging out with who could turn their back on everything she had to offer?
“Apparently, you’ve been attracted to idiots,” he said.
Putting her fists on her hips, she half turned toward him. “I already told you that.”
Ah, yes. In the ER when they’d met. He reminded her of the guy who’d walked out on her. That annoyed him.
“Why did you need him?” he asked.
“What? Who?”
“The night of my accident, in the ER. You said he left you when you needed him most. Why did you need him?”
Chapter Eight
Megan’s heart stuttered at the question. She couldn’t tell Simon that she’d needed Bayleigh’s father for emotional support because their child was going blind. The only man who could possibly care about their little girl in the same way she did had the spine of a slug. He hadn’t loved her and he’d slithered away because he couldn’t face the problems and difficulties of raising an imperfect, sightless child.
If she told Simon any of that, it would lead to more questions she wasn’t prepared to answer. And he was in no condition to hear the responses.
She glanced at him. They were sitting side by side on the cement retaining wall, positioned as if it were an old-fashioned love seat. Her feet were in the sand. He was angled the other way, his long legs stretched out on the sidewalk paralleling the street. They were close enough that if either of them shifted, their shoulders brushed. His was solid and strong, a fact she should ignore, or at least pretend to. She was his nurse. Any attraction she felt was inappropriate and unprofessional.
She stole a look at him. The breeze blew his slightly too long dark hair off his forehead and the sunlight revealed in colorful detail his scabbed-over scrapes and fading bruises. But it was his eyes that drew her attention.
Genuine interest glittered in his gaze, making him look far different from when she’d first met him. That night his eyes had been dull, flat—lifeless. Today, with the sound of the surf crashing nearby, sunshine and blue sky overhead, he was showing signs of caring—dare she say it—about life.
She shook her head. The time was coming when she would let him know what a difference his sacrifice had made. She hoped between now and then the right words would come to her to ease his loss and let him know how grateful she was for Bayleigh’s gift of sight. But today wasn’t the day.
She wouldn’t tell him her daughter could see because his son had died.
“Megan?”
She met his quizzical gaze. “Hmm?”
“I wasn’t talking nuclear physics. It didn’t seem like that hard a question.”
“I’m sorry. What did you ask?”
“Why did you need Bayleigh’s father?”
“You know, I don’t think answering personal questions is part of my job.” It was all she could think of to try and deflect the question. But she had a feeling Simon wouldn’t let her get away with it that easily.
“Oh, really?” He crossed his arms over his chest and tucked his fingertips into his armpits.
Why couldn’t he ever disappoint her? “Yeah. I’m here to make sure you get better. Telling you about my personal life isn’t part of my job description.”
“So what we have
here is a double standard. You get to grill me like a raw hamburger, but I don’t get to ask questions about you?”
“In a word?” She met his gaze. “Yes.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. You can’t tell me when you’re on assignment you don’t talk to your patients about yourself. And I mean personal stuff.”
“Why would I?”
“Because it’s what women do. To bond.”
“How do you know that?”
“I watch daytime talk shows.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “Or maybe I heard it from my mother-in-law, I mean ex mother-in-law.”
Megan couldn’t let on that she knew Janet. Another subject that would lead to questions she couldn’t answer. Oh, what a tangled web we weave—and all that, she thought. “Women do share details of their lives. But you’re not a woman and I’m not trying to bond with you.”
“Okay. It took threats to get you to walk with me to the beach. If that’s what it takes to get an answer to my question, I’m not above threatening.”
She knew he would come up with something medically unsound. “Like I said before, you’re an evil man.”
“You have no idea. Now. Why did the guy walk out when you needed him?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” She had no alternative but to answer his question. But she didn’t have to tell him everything. “I had his child.”
She sighed, uncomfortable with keeping the details from him. The fact that it was only half a lie didn’t help much.
He shifted his position on the wall, then shoved his fingers through his hair. “You said when you needed him most he walked out. That implies something out of the ordinary was going on. What was it, Megan?”
She stiffened at his words. For goodness’ sake, he’d briefly lost consciousness the night of his accident. Why couldn’t he have forgotten that one, small, four-letter qualifier? It made all the difference.
“What was going on out of the ordinary?” She looked heavenward as she thought about how to answer. “Bayleigh was the first child for both of us, so we were in unfamiliar territory. There were the two-o’clock feedings that didn’t necessarily occur at two o’clock on the dot, but any time of the night she decided she was hungry. Then there was the incessant crying you could set your watch by at our dinner time. Toss into that mix diaper changing and you’ve got a life-altering experience he couldn’t handle at the time I most needed support.”
“So he couldn’t deal with being a father?”
“That’s about the size of it,” she agreed. And he didn’t love them enough to try.
“He was a jerk.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Big jerk.”
“But not all men are.”
“You couldn’t prove that by me. I’ve dated some. Either all of you are idiots, or I’m a just a jerk magnet. You can’t pick up a magazine without seeing an article about nice single guys looking for a good woman to settle down with. But I can’t seem to find one.”
“There’s another possibility.”
“And what would that be?” She pushed a strand of hair from her eyes, then tucked it behind her ear.
“Maybe you’re subconsciously attracted to the wrong men.”
“Excuse me?” She turned in his direction, bending her knee to rest her thigh on the wall so she could sit facing him. Now he had her full attention.
“Has it occurred to you that you deliberately pick men who aren’t interested in a ready-made family? A package deal?”
“About that daytime TV you’ve been watching? Have you by any chance been tuned in to Dr. Phil? The guru of ‘your life is empty because you want it to be empty’?”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “Your life isn’t empty. You just don’t have a man in it. And you don’t because you’re afraid to trust.”
“So, Dr. Reynolds. What do you suggest I do about the situation?”
“Simon says get over it.”
He shrugged, again drawing her attention to his broad shoulders and wide chest. His navy sweatshirt with the U.C.L.A. logo on the front hid the delicious details from view. But he’d been practically naked since she’d met him and the thought sent heat pouring through her. She was acutely attracted to him. Once the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth was out, he was the last man who would be interested in her and Bayleigh as a package deal. That was irrefutable proof that there could be truth to his theory.
“People spend gazillions of dollars on therapy every year,” she said, shaking her head. “And all they have to do is just get over it?”
“Why not? When the horse throws you, get right back in the saddle.”
“If it’s that simple, Simon, how come you haven’t taken your own advice?”
When the words came pouring out, she wanted them back in the worst way. Or she wanted to kick herself. Apparently, there was a short in the wiring from her brain to her mouth. When the shadows crossed his face, she started to touch him, to apologize. Then she remembered. She wasn’t supposed to know his story. All he’d told her was that his wife had divorced him because he was a workaholic. The response she’d just snapped out to his advice was what the average person would say. So she forced herself to wait for him to answer.
“You mean why am I alone?” He ran his fingers through his hair and stared at the multistory condominium building across the street. Then he met her gaze. “I don’t want to get back in the saddle.”
“So you’re a do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do kind of guy?”
“I suppose.”
“Maybe I don’t want to get back in the saddle, either,” she said. “Why is that any different from you?”
“I’m not the one who wants to give my daughter a certain kind of childhood.”
The bleak expression on his face tore at her heart. Whoever had coined the phrase “no pain, no gain” should be shot. He needed to talk about Marcus and, when he did, she knew it was going to hurt—badly. Damn, she hated this. If she didn’t owe this man more than she could ever repay, she’d have walked away right then and there. But she had to hide her reaction, because she wasn’t supposed to know.
He didn’t respond to pity. Somehow she had to muster some backbone or he would be suspicious.
She swung both legs over the wall and stood in front of him on the sidewalk. Looking down at him, she said, “Simon, I don’t know if you were any good at engineering. But I can tell you one thing.”
“What’s that?” he asked, interest gathering in his eyes.
“Don’t even try to give Dr. Phil a run for his money. In case you were considering it, I recommend keeping your day job.”
He stood, balancing carefully on both feet as he grabbed his crutches and tucked them beneath his armpits. “Don’t shoot the messenger, Megan, just because you don’t like the message.”
“Is that what I was doing?” She walked over to the signal and pushed the walk button.
“Yes. And for the record, I don’t have a day job to keep.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I sold my company after—”
After Marcus died. She knew. But she had to get him to volunteer it. “After what?” she prompted.
“The divorce,” he said. “They—the corporation who bought me out—wanted me to do some consulting. But I—”
“What?”
“Didn’t want to,” he finished.
So they were at an impasse. When the signal changed, they moved slowly across the street. Megan glanced at the brooding look on his face. Unfortunately, life was a series of traumas punctuated by having to do things you didn’t want to.
She didn’t want the burden of knowing Simon’s secret. She didn’t want to be his nurse. She especially wished this attraction to him would disappear. If only she didn’t enjoy talking to him, joking with him and being with him. And if he wasn’t quite so easy on the eyes, her job would be a walk in the park.
She wondered what she’d ever done to deserve this punishment. Because her assignment wasn’t even
half-over.
Simon hadn’t been able to get Megan off his mind. It had been two days since they’d talked on the beach, a week since his accident. They’d fallen into a pattern. Her ten-hour shift began promptly at seven in the morning. After taking his vitals she made vittles. He smiled at the memory that had become a running joke. He ate breakfast and, after straightening the kitchen, she put his leg through the painful paces that were beginning to show results. Then came his favorite part—the bath.
But now she gathered supplies and made him wash all over by himself. He wondered what she’d say if he told her he could move around pretty well. If she knew he wasn’t letting on about his progress, she’d probably quit again. And this time he had a feeling she wouldn’t come back.
But every evening when she fixed dinner for him, he knew it was almost time for her to leave. She insisted on spending the evening with her daughter. He wanted to ask her to stay, so he wouldn’t have to eat alone. He didn’t. He let her go without a word, then he counted the minutes and hours until she came back. Until he could bask in her sunshine for a while longer.
She was committed to another week of nursing him. Only seven days. Then she would be gone for good. It was something he didn’t want to think about.
Today she was in the kitchen cooking breakfast. The smell of bacon drifted to him, making his mouth water. Almost as much as the sight of Megan Brightwell in her work clothes, which looked like pajamas. What would she say to a pj day? With him?
“Simon, do you want orange juice?” She appeared in the kitchen doorway.
From his usual place on the couch in the living room, he watched her wipe her hands on a dish towel. “Just coffee.”
Her hands stilled. “You need the vitamin C. It promotes healing.”
“If you’re going to boss me into drinking it anyway, why did you ask if I wanted some?”
“Just trying to be polite.” She grinned, then she was gone.
She was like a strobe light—all brightness and energy. A welcome distraction.
Simon hadn’t thought about anyone but himself for a long time—pathetic but true. Until Megan. She walked into his life with spunk and spice and everything nice. But that wasn’t the only reason he couldn’t get her off his mind.
Midnight, Moonlight & Miracles Page 10
