AS THEY RODE the elevator down to the main entrance, Wendy’s mind raced through a million different scenarios, most of them involving either being pinned to the wall of the elevator by Tom, darn him, or her telling him to butt out of her life. She wasn’t sure which would be better at this point.
“Want to grab a coffee while we’re out?” he asked. “Talk about things?”
“The nearest coffee shop is five blocks away.” She swallowed hard as the elevator dinged and they walked out into the sunlit atrium.
“I know. I’m good with it if you are. Give us more time to get to know one another.”
That set her back a notch. She’d expected a simple, short stroll around the hospital campus, perhaps a few questions about her family history, but now this felt almost more like a...date. Still, it was too late to back out now and she didn’t want him to know how flustered he made her feel.
They strolled along through the beautiful May day, him accommodating her shorter strides. Even with her emotions all topsy-turvy, she couldn’t help admiring the way his shirt outlined his buff torso or how those jeans cupped his taut thighs perfectly.
She wanted to come off as confident, because she felt anything but with this guy. She wasn’t beautiful, not in the conventional sense. She was a bit too curvy, a tad too feisty for most men to handle. And, yeah, maybe she’d been told she resembled Ashley Callingbull. Sure. Maybe, if model Ashley was four inches shorter, a few pounds heavier and a lot less stunning.
Then again, those same men who’d lavished her with compliments were the same ones who’d hightailed it out of there once they’d learned how many hours Wendy worked or the fact she knew more about engines, spark plugs and fuel lines than they did.
Maybe Tom’s different...
Except she wasn’t going there, because of her past and because of his present with Sam.
Dogwoods flowered around them as they walked through a residential neighborhood. He tipped his handsome face skyward, soaking up the sun. A light breeze ruffled her hair and her tense muscles relaxed, despite all her inner turmoil.
They traveled in pleasant silence for a few blocks before he turned to her with a sad smile. “I shouldn’t say this, but I’m actually glad you’re the one meeting with Sam. She needs a friend right now and it looks like you’ve got the job. I’ve tried everything I know to get her to let me in, but so far she won’t. You two have a lot in common, though, huh?” His cheeks flushed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked that. Out of bounds.”
He looked so darned adorable that she caved a bit. She couldn’t discuss specifics with him. That was just asking for trouble. But she could throw him a bone, in general. “Girls her age are a mystery wrapped in an enigma,” Wendy said, skirting his question. At his flat stare, she laughed. “It’s true. Take it from someone who was once a twelve-year-old girl herself. Seriously, though, have you considered you might be trying too hard? Give her some space. Don’t try to force her to accept you and all this new stuff. Just be there for her. Talk to her like you would any other person in her situation. She’ll come around eventually.”
“You sound so confident about that, but I’m not sure.” He seemed to consider her response a moment, frowning down at the sidewalk. “It doesn’t feel like it will be fine. Most of the time it feels like I’m walking through land mines waiting for the next one to explode. This isn’t how I usually like things to be in my life. I tend to be a bit of a perfectionist.”
“I’ve noticed.” At his sideways glance she gave him a half smile. “From the way you straighten things all the time. And that quality’s great for when you’re being Dr. Tom Farber, obstetrician extraordinaire. Not so much when you’re trying to be Dad Tom or a good friend to your daughter.” At his crestfallen look, Wendy took pity on him and laid her hand on his arm. “Sam doesn’t expect or want you to be perfect. All she wants is for you to be there for her. To know you’ll support her when she needs you, physically and emotionally.”
“Easier said than done. There’s only so many hours in the day and I work long shifts. I want so badly to do what’s best for Sam, but I also have to think about our future. She’s my responsibility now.”
“Have you shared your concerns with her?” Wendy asked as they crossed another street. “If not, maybe you should. Might help her understand why you’re doing what you do and let her know you care. She’s twelve, Tom, not two. She’ll understand. Probably more than you think.”
Wendy exhaled slowly, filtering through her words, deciding what to say and what not to. Tom really was so easy to talk to, though, and he seemed so eager to make his daughter happy. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but maybe if she told him a bit more about herself, he’d ease up on the subject of what she and Sam discussed. “Like you said, we have a lot of things in common. I lost my mother too. When I was ten.”
She took off toward the coffee shop again. Mainly to avoid what would probably be a look of pity on his face. That was the usual reaction she got when people found out about her past. And the last thing she wanted from him was pity.
Tom followed behind her, a few paces back, and Wendy hazarded a glance at his face. No pity, thank goodness. Just golden, gorgeous male. That unwanted zing of awareness seared hotter inside her, urging her to say something, anything, to keep from tackling him to the grass and kissing him silly. “How long were you married to Sam’s mom?”
“Eighteen months. We met while I was in medical school in Boston. She was a local artist. Fantastically talented painter, but sometimes genius comes with a price.” At Wendy’s pointed look, he continued. “I didn’t know she was an addict until after we took our vows. She hid it well, but things went downhill from the honeymoon onward. I tried to get her to go to rehab, and she didn’t use at all when she was pregnant with Sam. Afterward, though, it was a different story.” He exhaled slowly and stared across the street while they waited for the light.
“Despite what my daughter might have told you, I wanted to be a part of Sam’s life. In fact, I spent years trying to see her after our divorce, but Nikki wouldn’t let me. She’d conned the judge into giving her full custody, so legally, I was dependent on her cooperation. By the time I got the job offer from Anchorage Mercy, Nikki was doing well for herself, selling some of her artwork, off the drugs again. But things between us, communication-wise, had deteriorated to the point that she was threatening to get a restraining order against me if I tried to see Sam. So I moved back here, reluctantly. Putting a continent between me and Sam wasn’t ideal, but I never imagined the price I’d pay.” The light turned green and he sighed, his smile strained.
“I’ve tried to do my best with my daughter in this difficult situation, but it seems all I’ve done is screw up worse, make the same mistakes. With the emotional canyon between us now, it feels like things were doomed from the start.”
They entered the downtown area and weaved through the crowds of tourists milling about the streets of Anchorage, admiring the quaint shops and scenery. Tom stopped to peer into the window of an art gallery. “I’m sorry about your mother.”
His gentle words were like a stab in the gut. It had been twenty years since her mother had passed away, yet the quiet comfort in Tom’s tone made Wendy want to bury her face in his broad, muscled chest. Which wasn’t going to happen, no matter how appealing his smile was, or how good he smelled, or the fact that he looked like some Norse god come to life.
She kept her distance for a reason and she intended for things to stay that way.
Definitely. Maybe.
Ugh.
“Thanks,” she managed to say while staring at a huge watercolor portrait of a grizzly bear devouring a salmon in a stream. “It was a hard time. She went downhill pretty quickly toward the end. It was difficult to watch, especially as a kid.”
Sam had gone through some tough times with her mother too, nights when she’d come home late and strung out. Or the nights she’d not come home at all. That was one of the new things Sam had opened up to Wendy about recently, amid all their usual talk about her new school, her homework, the cute boy she liked.
Sam had also mentioned how much she missed Boston and her mother and how she felt like her dad didn’t understand anything. Wendy wouldn’t mention any of that to Tom, though. It had to come from Sam or the counselor. Besides, it would also only hurt him more, which would make Wendy want to hug and comfort him and that was far too unsettling to contemplate.
Still, the thought of poor Sam all alone in that Boston apartment, crying herself to sleep, hit far too close to home for Wendy. Not that she’d ever been abandoned, but she’d soaked many a pillow with tears over her mother’s death, terrified the same fate would befall her someday. She held her breath, waiting for more inevitable questions from Tom about her mother’s disease, questions she’d have to answer now since she’d basically brought it up in the first place.
“Have you had the testing done?” he said, his voice barely a whisper above the din of the busy street behind them. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
Normally, she did mind. Very much. Being asked that felt like an invasion of privacy.
But with Tom her chest didn’t tighten, her heart didn’t ache.
Strange, but she wasn’t ready to consider exactly why at the moment.
Wendy blinked away the unwanted sting of tears. “I did. When I was eighteen.”
Tom looked away, but not before she saw the flicker of concern in his eyes. Her heart sank. Any attraction he felt for her now would certainly be gone. Best to swim far away from that tainted gene pool.
They walked on. Tom thankfully changed the topic. “You’re from Anchorage too?”
“Born and raised,” she said, squinting into the sunlight. “My family owns a garage on the outskirts of town.”
“That’s where your brother’s shirt came from last night. I meant to ask him today.” He paused, his expression curious. “And your family’s part Iñupiat?”
“Yep.” She chuckled, glad to have an easier topic to discuss. “Or as Jake likes to say—I’m half Iñupiat and all attitude. My mother was from Michigan. She came here on an Alaskan cruise and met my dad and never went back.” She ignored the familiar stab of sadness in her chest as their destination loomed ahead. “There’s the coffee shop.”
He watched her closely. “What’s your favorite drink?”
“Coffee-wise, you mean?”
“Yeah. Wait.” Tom held up a hand, flashing his gorgeous grin. “Let me guess.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Go for it.”
“I’d say you’re a...latte gal.”
Damn. He was correct, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted him to know it. Having him off-balance again felt way more comfortable.
“C’mon, I’m right, aren’t I?”
She looked up at him. “Fine. Yes. Lattes. Occasionally, I’ll have a triple if I need the extra caffeine, but...”
“Espresso doesn’t have as much caffeine as you’d think,” they said in unison.
“You know that?”
“You know that?” he countered, giving her a crooked smile. And darn if she didn’t feel it all the way to her toes. Then there was the fact Tom seemed to be taking all this new information about her in his stride, at least for now. It was weird, and oddly refreshing.
“Now guess my drink,” he said as they made their way into the coffee shop.
“Well, I know you like it with milk, from last night.”
The barista looked at them expectantly. This was an independent coffeehouse, built into what had once been a barber shop. The long, narrow space was shabby chic, with painted chalkboard walls and a handwritten menu. The big star was the espresso machine, all shiny copper and steel gears, like something from a steampunk fantasy.
Tom remained focused on Wendy, waiting for her answer. She looked him up and down, thinking of what she’d heard about him from Sam and what he’d told her in their brief time together.
“Macchiato.”
His brows knit. “What?”
“You’re a macchiato guy.”
He crossed his arms, his expression skeptical. “How’d you know? Did Sam tell you?”
“No. She didn’t have to.” Wendy gave a short laugh, leaning against the counter. “You’re strong, steadfast, maybe even a little stubborn. You prefer facts and details. You pride yourself on your control and you’re responsible to a fault. You work hard, maybe too hard.”
“Guilty as charged.” Tom turned to the barista. “A latte and a macchiato, please.”
They nabbed one of the few tables left, most of the spots taken by people using the place as a pseudo-office. Wendy sat down, fumbling to know what to do with her hands, what to feel about all the odd emotions racing through her in Tom’s presence—attraction, irritation, lust, wariness. He was just too darned likable, that was the problem. And for Wendy, who avoided commitment like a bad MRSA infection, liking Tom could easily lead to deeper feelings and that scared the hell out of her.
This was exactly why she stuck to flings.
No mess, no worry, no chance of emotions or hearts involved.
No chance of passing on a deadly disease or leaving a grief-stricken spouse behind.
Then Tom shifted in his seat and leaned forward across the small table to take her hand unexpectedly. His skin felt soft and warm against hers, his grip strong, firm, the kind a girl could rely on. It was then Wendy realized she was in far more danger with him than she’d ever been with any of the previous guys she’d been around.
“I want to thank you for being Sam’s friend,” Tom said, surprising her. “Thanks for being there for her. I know I shouldn’t be saying any of this, but it means the world to me. Truly. Thank you.” He held her gaze a moment before releasing her hand and sitting back in his seat. “And I know this will probably break all the rules, but I’d like your help too. I want you to teach me how to be a better father to my daughter. If you’ll agree.”
Oh, boy. Her pulse quickened at his words.
Which was both so very bad and yet so, so good.
It had been forever since she’d had a male friend, other than Jake. Forever since she’d let a man into her life, period, beyond a one-night stand, beyond just physical intimacy. Forever since she’d felt such a bright buzz of attraction and wasn’t scared out of her wits, even knowing how it would end.
Common sense said she should say no, should stay the course, keep to her narrow, lonely path. But, crazy as it sounded, Tom seemed to get her. And the counselor was due back from vacation next week, so that took care of any conflict of interest issues. Wendy didn’t know how or why she felt so drawn to Tom, but she was intrigued enough to stick around and find out. “Okay.”
Hard to believe one simple word meant so much to him.
Okay.
The knots between his shoulder blades eased slightly, knowing she’d agreed to help him.
Honestly, if Tom could’ve hit pause on Wendy’s macchiato explanation of him, he would have. Frankly, he’d been shocked by her accurate description, like she’d cracked his chest open to reveal his beating heart. Macchiatos were, in fact, his favorite coffee. He wanted to ask her more about herself too, but just then the barista called, “Tom!”
He jumped up and motioned for Wendy to wait while he got their order. Returning, he carefully set everything down. They each sipped their drinks and he watched her over the rim of his cup. She seemed nervous and he didn’t want to push, like he always did, but he couldn’t avoid the huge white elephant in the room either. After all, he’d ignored the issues right in front of his face with Nikki and he didn’t want to do that again. He’d learned the hard way that the only way around problems was through them. “So, you had the testing done, what, twelve years ago?”
Wendy blinked fast, staring down into her coffee. She looked so vulnerable and sad he wanted to pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be okay, even if it wouldn’t.
She nodded but didn’t say anything more, just fiddled with her drink.
His gut went into a nosedive, thinking the worst. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize. I never would’ve asked if I’d known you were—”
That got her attention at last. She gave him a pointed stare. “I’m not dying, for goodness’ sake.” Wendy gave a quick glance around, realizing she’d probably said that way louder than necessary. “At least I don’t think I am. I don’t know. I haven’t gotten my results.”
Now it was Tom’s turn to blink. He forced his gaping mouth to close and took that in for a minute. “You had the testing done but didn’t want to know the results, after all these years?”
She stared down at the table, a slight blush dotting her high cheekbones.
“Wow.” He couldn’t imagine living with that kind of uncertainty. Perhaps that explained why Wendy kept her distance from others. Probably also explained why such a smart, beautiful woman was still unattached.
Some men might have balked, but Tom just marveled at her inner strength and fortitude.
Before he could tell her so, though, Wendy held up her hand like a stop sign. “No pity. Please. I like being independent. It suits me. Besides, I would never want to pass this on to a child.” She pushed to her feet, tossing the remnants of her latte away. “Let’s go.”
“I thought we were going to get a bite to eat.”
“I’m not hungry anymore.”
Right. Okay. Signal received and understood. Back off.
He tossed his empty cup in the trash as well, then followed her out. It had been so long, too long, since he’d been this attracted to a woman, since he’d even allowed anyone that close. To say he’d been gun-shy after Nikki would be an understatement. But in a different universe, he had the sneaking feeling he and Wendy might’ve been pretty darned perfect for each other.
In another life, in a less complicated scenario.
As it was, he wasn’t sure how to handle this thing with her.
He just knew he wanted to keep seeing her, in whatever way she’d let him.
Outside again, Wendy seemed to relax a bit, her rigid posture easing. He was glad, thinking maybe he hadn’t blown this whole thing after all. He and Nikki had been much too young, driven by his hormones and not logic. They hadn’t considered the things that were really important, things like compatibility, compassion, camaraderie.
He and Nikki hadn’t had anything in common beyond mutual lust.
But the more time he spent with Wendy, Tom began to think that they just might.
If he allowed himself to go down that path. Which was a big unknown.
In the past, he’d only had himself to consider, but now there was Sam too.
Besides, two days and a couple of conversations didn’t mean they knew each other that well. It would be silly and ill-advised to fly off on some romantic tangent. He’d been there, done that, with Nikki. Wasn’t going there again, thanks very much. Still, it was obvious Wendy had connected with his daughter and he wanted to keep that connection going, if nothing else.
And if he and Wendy got closer along the way, he supposed that wouldn’t be so terrible. They’d take it slowly, keep it platonic.
Then he looked at Wendy again, her black hair shining in the sun, and his foolish heart thought this was a person who could make him happy. A hand he could hold. A woman he could know from every perspective, and still find more to explore.
He frowned and looked away, swallowing those unwanted emotions. The scent of freshly mown grass filled the air and bright purple scorpion grasses and deep red Indian paintbrushes shot through the planters around them in all directions.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone, about the Huntington’s,” Wendy said, as they wandered out of downtown and back into a quieter, more residential area again. “I don’t share that with many people.”
“Of course. Your secret’s safe with me.” He stared straight ahead, afraid of looking at her again for fear he’d do something stupid, like pull her into his arms and kiss her. He’d been tempted before, back in the hallway at the hospital, after she’d walked out of her sister-in-law’s room. God, that whole situation now made so much more sense—her anxiety, the yearning he’d seen on Wendy’s face when she’d held her nephew. He cleared his throat. “Thank you for sharing it with me. It can’t have been easy, but, like I said, I’m here if you ever need to talk about it.”
She smiled, her dark eyes warming.
This was crazy. This was so not him, diving in headfirst, consequences be damned. He’d learned his lesson well with Nikki and had the scars to prove it. It all seemed impossible, yet here he was, about to not let that get in the way of sweeping this woman he barely knew off her feet.
No. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t jeopardize the only strong connection Sam had made here in Anchorage for a brief fling. Because that’s all it could be between him and Wendy. His life was too busy, too complicated, too messy right now for anything else.
He couldn’t throw all that responsibility aside and live in the moment.
Could he?
Tom spotted a small walking path leading down to a creek and cocked his head in that direction. “C’mon. Let’s check this out before we head back. I need a longer break.”
At first, Wendy looked confused, then shrugged and followed him. His heart raced with wild, reckless possibilities, wanting a bit more time to get to know her better, a bit more time to explore this chemistry between them, knowing they’d go back to their complicated lives soon enough. Wanting just a bit more time with Wendy, to unravel the fascinating puzzle she presented.