Healing Dr. Alexander

by Tracy Wolff

They came first with her and always would. Their happiness and health and security was more important to her than anything else on earth. She knew part of her desire to do everything right with them, to be there for every scratched knee and every personal triumph stemmed from the fact that growing up, she had never had that. She’d never had parents who put aside their own issues or desires in order to help her with hers, never had anyone she could turn to who she knew would be there unconditionally. Just like she’d never had anyone that she knew would put her first.

  Oh, Jeff had cared about her. She knew that. And she had loved him in her own way. But even he, her husband, never put her first. What he wanted was always more important than anything she wanted. What Jeff’s dead father had wanted. What the army wanted. To be honest, that had been fine with her—partly because she hadn’t known any better and partly because she’d never loved Jeff, not the way a wife should love her husband. She’d worked hard to be the kind of wife Jeff wanted. She’d built a life with him, a good life, because she’d wanted a family. Children. Someone she really could love unconditionally.

  She thanked God every day for giving her Noah and Kyle. Even, she acknowledged ruefully, on the days when they seemed determined to drive her out of her mind. Days like today.

  “Stop splashing me with your paddle, you dork!” Noah growled at Kyle.

  “I’m not doing it on purpose! I’m just rowing.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re rowing all over me. Stop it!”

  “Guys, come on,” she told them. “This is supposed to be fun.”

  “Tell him that!” Noah complained. “He’s getting my shirt all wet—”

  “No, I’m not!” an aggrieved Kyle shouted. “I’m just rowing.” Of course, he chose that moment to smack his paddle into the water for emphasis and water sprayed in both directions, hitting her on the chest and Noah straight in the eyes!

  “You jerk!” Noah spluttered, trying to find a dry spot on his shirt to wipe his eyes. “That burns.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” Kyle said in his sad little brother voice, but she’d been around the block enough to see the gleam of unholy joy dancing right underneath the fake remorse.

  “Kyle Anthony Connors, you need to apologize to—”

  She broke off as Noah, who had obviously seen the glee as well, stuck his paddle in the water and sent a huge oar full of water straight into Kyle’s face.

  That was all it took. Before she could even open her mouth, World Water War Twenty-Eight was off and running as the boys started splashing each other as rapidly as they could. Though she was at the end, she still caught quite a bit of the action, in those first few seconds as the kayak tipped and shuddered beneath them.

  “Hey!” she finally managed to get out. “Knock it off.”

  The boys were too busy trying to kill each other to notice. She grabbed Kyle by the shoulder and pulled him back so that his ear was at her mouth. “I said that’s enough.” She trotted out the mom voice she reserved for only truly awful transgressions.

  He settled down pretty quickly, but Noah kept it up until she swung her paddle up and smacked him lightly on the arm to get his attention.

  “Ow!” he howled, though she’d barely tapped him.

  “Keep it up and we’re going home. No ducks, no picnic, nothing. Do I make myself clear?”

  “He splashed me first!”

  “And you splashed him last. Looks pretty even to me.” She sighed impatiently. “Now, you’ve got two choices and ten seconds to make the decision. Continue splashing each other and we’ll go home. Or get along and we can stay for a while. At this point, I don’t actually care which it is. But make your decision now.” She glanced at her watch to show that she was counting the seconds down.

  “Stay!” Kyle shouted. “Please, Mommy!”

  “Stay,” Noah said, much more grudgingly.

  “Fine. No more splashing because I have no desire to swim back to shore and I know neither of you do, either.” She rummaged in the bag at her feet, tossed each boy a bag of bread as a distraction. “Now why don’t you get busy feeding the ducks while I row?”

  Which, thank God, was exactly what they did.

  The next three hours passed in blissful harmony, broken only by the occasional, easily squashed squabble. But as they were heading back to the car, Noah asked, “Are you going to marry Dr. Jack?”

  The question surprised her so much that she stumbled, and dropped the picnic basket. The remains of their lunch spilled on the ground, but she barely noticed as she tried to figure out where on earth that question had come from. Nothing came to mind.

  “Mommy, you made a mess!” Kyle giggled, dropping to his knees next to the basket to start picking up the mess.

  “I sure did,” she agreed, squatting to help him. Noah didn’t move, however, but stared at her with wary eyes as he waited for an answer.

  She waited to talk to him until they were back at the car and Kyle was once again strapped into his booster seat.

  “Honey,” she asked Noah, “Why would you think Jack and I were going to get married?”

  “So, you’re not?”

  “No, sweetheart. We’re just friends. He’s helping me out by babysitting you guys and I pay him back with dinner sometimes. That’s it.”

  Noah didn’t answer her, staring back at her with serious brown eyes, so like his father that she had to force herself not to look away. Especially when she remembered exactly what she and Jack had been up to the day before.

  Finally, when she was about to give up waiting, he whispered, “I saw you.”

  Her heart went crazy, even as she told herself it was impossible. That he’d been at school the whole time she was in bed with Jack. “Saw me doing what?”

  “Kissing Dr. Jack. In the kitchen last night, before the Yahtzee game.”

  When she thought he’d been safely ensconced in the family room, watching cartoons. He must have come looking for them.

  She felt her cheeks heat up as she tried to figure out what to do, what to say. Noah had been three when his father had shipped out to Afghanistan, so his memories of him were murky at best. She did what she could to talk about him regularly, to tell stories that would help the boys get a feeling for who their father had been.

  She didn’t know how much it helped—certainly not as much as having a real, live dad to play baseball with—but she’d done her best. Now, as she studied Noah’s stoic little face for some kind of clue as to what he was thinking or feeling, she wondered what she was supposed to say. There hadn’t been a man in her life since Jeff, and while Jack wasn’t exactly in her life, he was the closest thing the boys had ever had to a male influence. The closest thing she’d ever had to a lover, even though they hadn’t defined their relationship as such.

  Since no clues were forthcoming, and she’d been totally blindsided by Noah’s question, Sophie finally decided to go for the truth. Or at least as much of the truth as her eight-year-old son could handle. “Jack and I are friends,” she told him. “We like each other very much and sometimes when adult’s like each other, they kiss.”

  He rolled his eyes at her. “I’m not a baby, Mom. I’ve seen grown-ups kiss on TV lots of times.”

  “Oh, right. Well, then, Jack and I are kind of like that. Friends who kiss, but who both care about you and Kyle an awful lot.” She bent so they were on the same eye level. It didn’t take much, as her son had grown so much recently that he was only a few inches shorter than she was. It was a bittersweet realization, one that she didn’t have time to reflect on right now but that she would probably cry a little bit over later.

  “But if this bothers you, me kissing Jack, you need to tell me so we can talk about it. You know there’s no one in the world I love more than you and Kyle.” Not that she was necessarily going to stop, because, wow, the man was truly gifted—injured
hand or not.

  “I know, Mom. I thought, maybe it’d be cool if Dr. Jack moved in. You know, kind of like Kyle and I would have a dad like the other boys in my class.”

  Oh, boy. Sophie blew out a huge breath, trying to buy some time. She really hadn’t seen that coming, had thought the boys were completely satisfied with their single-parent home. Obviously, though, she’d been wrong.

  It stung a little, deep inside that she alone wasn’t enough for her sons. But she shoved it back down, because, one, this wasn’t about her and two, of course Noah was looking for a father figure. He was an eight-year-old boy. And though she’d learned to field a baseball with the best of them, she still wasn’t dad material. And—despite his moods and the darkness he couldn’t seem to get out from under—Jack really was dad material.

  “Oh, Noah,” she said, pulling him into her arms. “Jack isn’t going to be your new dad. He’s going to leave in a few months and then we’ll probably never see him again.”

  “Why does he have to go?” There were enough tears in Noah’s voice—though none spilled onto his cheeks—to turn the sting into something more painful. “I’ll miss him, Mom.”

  “I know, baby. So will I. But Dr. Jack has a super-important job. He takes care of little boys and girls who don’t have anyone else to take care of them. They don’t have hospitals or pediatricians or any of the things we do, so he goes there so that they can get the medicine and the operations that they need.”

  Noah considered her words for a minute or so, then nodded. “I guess that’s more important than babysitting us.”

  “Not more important, sweetheart, more urgent. There are kids who would die if Dr. Jack didn’t help them.”

  “I get it now.” He climbed into the car, fastened his seat belt. Then looked at her through the still-open door. “I wish you could be with someone who didn’t always have to leave.” He pulled out his MP3 player and stuck the earbuds in his ears.

  The conversation had ended easily—she’d obviously given the right answers. But as Sophie walked around to the driver’s seat, instead of feeling like she’d dodged a bullet, all she felt was sad. Because Noah wasn’t the only one who wished the men she ended up caring about were also men who could stick around for a while. Other women had no problem finding men who were home every night by six. What did the fact that she couldn’t say about her?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  JACK DRESSED FOR dinner with mixed feelings. He had originally dreaded this dinner—the idea of watching Amanda and Simon make goo-goo eyes at each other all night left him cold, no matter how happy he was that their lives were moving forward so beautifully. But in the past couple days, his attitude had changed.

  Once Sophie had said she’d go with him, he’d started looking forward to it. Seeing her dressed up, spending time with her at a nice restaurant, introducing her to his friends, all seemed like a really great idea. She was a beautiful, kind, happy woman, one who made him laugh in a way no one had in a very long time, if ever. Not to mention she was incredible in bed. He’d spent quite a bit of time the past twenty-four hours reliving what it had been like to make love to her and imagining all the things he was going to do to her once he got her back in his bed.

  But now she was probably angry with him. She’d come over this morning to invite him to do something with her and the boys—something he would probably have enjoyed very much—and he’d jumped down her throat because of his own insecurities. He’d been rude and accusatory and there’d been no call for it. Which meant his chance of getting her back in his bed this evening were slim to none.

  It also meant that he was going to have to apologize for being such an ass. Again, nothing more than he deserved, but he dreaded—absolutely dreaded—the explanation that would have to go along with the apology. The last thing he wanted to do was draw attention to all the things he couldn’t do because of his injury, but any explanation of his churlish behavior would have to include that.

  He’d been trying to work up a speech in his head all afternoon, one that didn’t make him look like a total loser. So far he hadn’t come up with anything. After all, no woman wanted a man who was drowning in self-pity.

  After checking his tie for a second time, and wondering if he would end up wanting to hang himself with it by the end of the night, Jack slipped his wallet and keys into his pocket and drove over to collect Sophie. Which reinforced what an ass he’d been when she’d suggested meeting him at his house. It was ridiculous to move the car from his driveway to hers, and if he’d been less of a pathetic asshole earlier, he would have seen that she was trying to make things as logistical and easy as possible.

  It was a wonder she was still interested in going out with him at all.

  Pasting a smile on his face that he was far from feeling, Jack rang the doorbell, impatient for Sophie to answer. The sooner he could get the apology portion of the evening over and move onto other things, the better.

  He’d be as honest as he could be. Tell her he’d been having a really rough morning and apologize for being churlish. Sophie didn’t strike him as the kind of woman to insist being given a pound of flesh to prove his sincerity, so maybe… Sophie opened her door and anything he’d been planning to say flew right out of his head as every drop of blood in his brain travelled three feet south of his head.

  The first thought that entered his lust-frozen brain was that he’d been wrong when he’d figured Sophie would wear a suit. Way wrong. His second thought was that she should wear dresses more often because she looked stunning. Absolutely gorgeous. Tonight, there was nothing of the mom or the lawyer to be found in her.

  Instead, she was all redheaded sex goddess. Dressed in a green and gold wraparound dress that hugged the lush, round landscape of her breasts and hips like a second skin. His hands wanted to run over her beautiful curves. The plunging neckline didn’t help matters, as it showcased her high, beautiful breasts—reminding him of how much he’d enjoyed licking his way over them the day before. The knee-length hemline showcased her long legs, legs that were shown off to their best advantage by a pair of very high, very sexy, gold-stiletto heels.

  For long seconds he did nothing but stare at her, mouth dry and vocal cords frozen as he remembered the way those legs had wrapped around his waist when they’d made love.

  “Is something wrong?” she finally asked with a nervous little laugh. He glanced up in time to see her tuck a strand of her beautiful red hair behind her ear.

  “No, of course not. I’m blown away by how beautiful you look tonight.” He held out the flowers he’d picked up for her. They were just daisies, nothing special, but when he’d seen them he’d thought of Sophie’s sunny smile and hadn’t been able to resist them. Now, though, as she blushed a little, glanced away, he couldn’t help wondering if he’d screwed up again. Maybe he should have gone with the roses, even though they’d seemed so normal and predictable, something their relationship definitely wasn’t.

  “Thanks,” she told him, slipping the flowers into her arms. “Let me get these some water.” As she walked away, she buried her face in the flowers and he felt everything inside him relax. She did like them, after all.

  She was only gone a minute or so, and when she returned, Noah and Kyle were both standing in the hall, looking at her with interest. For once, Noah’s expression was quiet, contemplative. But Kyle looked totally disgusted and his little nose wrinkled as he watched her cross the foyer back to Jack.

  “Ew, gross! You look like a girl, Mom.”

  That broke the ice, had both of them laughing as she introduced Jack to her babysitter for the night and then kissed the boys goodnight. “Be good for Sabrina,” she told them. “And straight to bed after the movie is over.”

  “What movie?” Kyle asked, bouncing around like a kangaroo.

  “The one I rented for you,” Sophie said. “Which you will not get to see u
ntil all the veggies are gone from your plates.”

  “But, Sabrina says—”

  “Sabrina knows she answers to me,” Sophie told him with a wink at the woman. “No buts and no complaints.” Leaning down, she kissed the top of his head again, then linked arms with Jack and pulled him out the door. “If we don’t get going now, we never will. They’re masters of the long good-bye.”

  He escorted her to the car, wondering as he did how often she went on dates. The boys had taken her imminent departure in stride, and they seemed to have a routine down with Sabrina, as well. Not that it was any of his business or anything. It wasn’t like they had any kind of commitment between them, but still. He was curious because…well, because.

  “I’m really sorry about this morning,” he told her, biting the bullet as he held the car door open for her.

  She eyed him for a second, her beautiful green eyes shadowed despite the streetlight directly above them. Then she inclined her head, smiled. “Everyone has a bad day occasionally. Let’s forget about it.”

  That was it? No recriminations? No groveling necessary? Somehow her easy dismissal made him feel about a million times worse. All he said, though, was “Thanks. It won’t happen again.”

  Sophie nodded.

  “We’re meeting Simon and Amanda at Eugene’s,” he told her once he’d pulled out of the driveway. “I haven’t been, but they say it’s delicious.”

  “It is. Not to mention a culinary adventure—the menu is always changing, and always a little different than anything else around. They have really strange ideas sometimes, but somehow they always end up being delicious.”

  “Well, then I’m looking forward to the evening.”

  “Me, too.” She smiled at him, and her beautifully painted mouth had him imaging the things she might do with it later.

  “The light’s green,” she told him as a car behind him honked. He sped through the intersection, wondering what had gotten into him. Yes, they’d had mind-blowing sex. And, yes, he wanted to do it again as soon as possible. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t behave like a civilized person for the length of one dinner date. Still, he couldn’t resist another quick glance at her out of the corner of his eye. She looked like every fantasy he’d ever had rolled into one.