WITHIN SECONDS, THE lobby of the clinic was packed with reporters, medical staff and members of Roni’s entourage. A TV news crew was attempting to set up a camera in one corner, ignoring the arguments of a nurse, and the woman pushing Roni’s wheelchair had to shove at reporters to keep them away.
“Call security,” said Willow. Another nurse, who’d wisely decided to cower behind the nurses’ station, nodded and began dialing. Willow headed toward Roni, but not before a reporter stuck a microphone in front of her face. “Miss, what’s it like to have Roni herself at the Island Clinic? Are the rumors that she has a deadly, inoperable cancer true?”
So much for maintaining Roni’s privacy. There was either a leak in Roni’s entourage, or someone from her previous treatment center had revealed her transfer to the Island Clinic. Either way, the press had followed her here, and now it would fall on the clinic staff to control the damage.
“Our patients’ medical histories are confidential, and you need to leave, now,” said Willow, barely concealing the irritation in her voice.
To her absolute shock, as she tried to move toward Roni, the reporter grabbed her arm in a tight grip and shouted, “Just a few more questions, please!” She tried to shake him off, but his grip was like a vise, and she nearly lost her balance trying to twist away from his grasp.
Theo moved so quickly that she barely saw him. One moment the reporter had hold of her arm; the next, his microphone had clattered to the floor, and Theo was holding the reporter’s shoulder in a firm grip. Theo twisted the reporter’s arm behind his back and steered him away from Willow. The expression on Theo’s face was so furious that Willow wasn’t sure what might have happened next had a uniformed security guard not arrived to take hold of the reporter.
More security officers arrived to herd the press back outside the clinic. Willow could see that Roni was barely conscious.
“We need to take her back to an exam room immediately,” she muttered to Theo.
“I’ll show you the way, if you can get us through this crowd.”
Theo put one arm around Willow’s shoulders to protect her as he cleared a path through the crowd. She appreciated his tall frame, which provided shelter from the mob. As the security officers pressed the reporters back, Theo and Willow made their way to the woman who was pushing Roni’s wheelchair.
“Are you family?” Theo asked her.
“I’m her best friend. Siobhan.”
“All right, you take the dog, I’ll take over wheelchair duty.” Theo and Willow guided Roni’s chair into an exam room as her friend picked up the French bulldog, which immediately stopped barking. Roni seemed as though she could barely lift her head, and as Willow began her examination, she could see that Roni was drifting in and out of consciousness.
“How long has she been like this?” Theo asked Siobhan. Willow noticed that his voice was firm but calm, with no trace of the fury she’d seen in his expression a moment ago.
“About fifteen minutes. We were talking on the plane, and then all of a sudden she just started...drifting off. I thought she was losing consciousness, but she comes around every couple of minutes or so. I can’t believe the press followed us here. The whole point of coming was to have some privacy.”
“Security will get things under control,” Willow reassured her. “Roni will have the rest and privacy she needs.”
From her wheelchair, Roni gave a low chuckle. “Thank God for that.”
“Roni?” said Willow. “Can you hear us?” But Roni had once again dropped her head to her shoulder and closed her eyes.
Willow nodded at Theo. “Mild seizures, possibly in response to high fever.”
“Give me the history,” he said.
“Latina woman in her early sixties, current diagnosis of breast cancer, recently started chemotherapy. No known allergies. Presents with seizures and possible high fever.” Willow checked her thermometer. “Temperature of one hundred and five. Seizures are persistent but seem to have slowed. Shall we order testing? It could be a seasonal flu, or a bacterial infection she picked up while traveling.”
He paused. “She’s already started chemo?”
Willow glanced at the chart. “According to her records, she started a few weeks ago. It looks as though she was about halfway through the first planned round of chemo before she decided to transfer her care here.”
“Then let’s order the testing, but start her on a fever reducer and antibiotics right away.”
Theo leaned in toward Roni’s wheelchair. “Roni?” he said gently. “Can you hear me?”
Roni’s eyes fluttered open.
“Roni, you most likely have a case of febrile neutropenia. That means your body is having a strong reaction to chemotherapy, and it hasn’t been making enough of the white blood cells you need to fight off a bacterial infection. The good news is that your friend got you here fast enough for us to start antibiotics within two hours of your fever, which means that you should begin feeling better right away.”
“Sounds like I got here just in time,” Roni croaked.
“Not a moment too soon,” Theo agreed, and Willow noticed again the way the corners of his mouth seemed to tug upward as he spoke. “We still need to wait for the test results to be sure, but we’re going to start the antibiotics right way. Odds are good you’ll be feeling better very soon.”
Of course, Willow thought. Febrile neutropenia. No wonder Theo hadn’t wanted to wait for test results. Starting a patient on antibiotics within two hours of the outbreak of a fever could have a significant impact on treatment outcome. Thanks to Theo’s quick thinking, Roni was probably going to be fine.
She considered what he’d said only a few moments ago—that working together might allow them to get to know one another more quickly. She still wasn’t certain of how she felt about that. But she was glad of the chance to see that Theo was a competent doctor. And although she was certain she could have handled the situation herself, she did appreciate the way he’d pulled that reporter off of her without a moment’s hesitation.
So far, Theo had proved that he knew his field well, and that he had her back. She grudgingly admitted to herself that both of those were qualities she valued greatly among her coworkers.
She just wished her stomach wouldn’t do flip-flops as she watched him write orders in Roni’s chart.
“There’s a suite waiting for both of you, but we need to keep her in the exam room for a few hours of observation,” she said to Siobhan, trying to pull her focus back to her patient. “You’re welcome to stay with her until then.”
“Can she keep the dog with her?” asked Siobhan.
Willow hesitated. Dogs typically weren’t allowed in exam rooms, but Roni’s French Bulldog had settled down considerably, curling quietly into her lap. She smiled and touched a finger to her lips. “I suppose it’s fine. But keep it quiet.”
As they left the exam room together, Theo said, “Wow. Is it typically like this, with the press?”
“Actually, it’s extremely rare. We all take discretion very seriously here. My guess is that someone on Roni’s team leaked the information that she was coming. It may not even have been an intentional leak. Some of our patients get so much scrutiny from the press that a careless word, dropped at the wrong time, can tip off the news media to things they aren’t supposed to know. Fortunately, we do have excellent security personnel. They’re very good at keeping the sharks away. As are you apparently. I want to thank you for helping me out with the reporter back there.”
His eyes grew stormy again, and for a moment she thought she saw a trace of the anger that had clouded his face earlier. But it quickly passed as he said, “The important thing is that you’re all right.” He searched her face carefully. “You are all right, aren’t you?”
“I’m perfectly fine.” Despite herself, she rubbed her arm. It did still hurt a bit. The reporter’s grip had been firmer than she’d realized. She hoped she wasn’t going to have a bruise.
Theo frowned. “If they’re going to be that bold, we should talk to Nate about increasing security for the staff as well as for Roni.”
“Certainly, if it makes you feel better. But I know Nate. He won’t tolerate an intrusion into a patient’s privacy without swift action.” And then, in spite of herself, she laughed as she remembered her own first week at the Island Clinic, just over a year ago. “If you think that was bad, you should have been here last year. We had an entire K-pop group.”
“K-pop?”
“Korean pop music. Picture five teenage boys, all on the verge of international stardom. Some of the dance moves they do are pretty complex, and apparently they’d been attempting an illegal pyramid formation on a high stage that collapsed, resulting in multiple compound fractures. Their manager didn’t want word getting out that they’d been practicing moves banned in Korea, so he had them flown here for absolute privacy.”
“But word got out they were here?”
“Through no fault of ours. One of the boys posted a picture of the view from his room online, and a fan from the island realized he was probably somewhere on St. Victoria. It’s a small island, and with every woman under twenty on the lookout—well, it was only a matter of time before they determined by process of elimination that the band members were here.”
“It was bad, huh?”
“Never underestimate the detective work of teenage girls. Every young woman on the island started trying to get a glimpse of them at the clinic. One of them actually succeeded by disguising herself as a delivery driver. But don’t worry. After a while you’ll see that these kinds of incidents are really extremely rare.”
“I see. So...does this mean you’ve come around to the idea of us working together?”
She told her stomach to stop doing flip-flops. “I suppose it won’t hurt to give it a try. You made a good call with Roni back there. And I liked how you discussed her treatment with her.”
“How’s that?”
“You told her that the odds were good that she would feel better soon, but you didn’t make any false promises. You were confident, without overselling or twisting the truth.”
He nodded. “That’s important with cancer patients. Everything’s about what the odds are. You have to talk about chances, rather than promises. And you have to talk about statistics without making a person feel like one.”
She was certain he was speaking from his experience as a patient. How important it must be to him, she realized, to be able to use his firsthand knowledge of how it felt to have cancer to help his patients.
Nate’s words from earlier that morning came back to her: I think you’re going to like Theo Moore. She wondered if that could possibly turn out to be true.
She broke from her reverie to notice that he was staring at her.
“What is it?” she asked. She looked at her nurse’s coat, trying to see if she’d spilled coffee somewhere.
“It’s just...” He took a deep breath, and his words came rapidly, as though he were forcing himself to push them out. “Speaking of statistics. I was wondering. What are the odds you might have dinner with me later this week?”
For one brief, wild moment, she almost thought that Theo was asking her out on a date. But then she realized that couldn’t possibly be the case. Given the circumstances between the two of them, a date was out of the question.
Still, it couldn’t hurt to clarify. “When you say, ‘have dinner with me,’ what exactly do you have in mind?”
He gave her a quizzical look. “Well, I suppose by ‘have dinner,’ I’m anticipating that there’d be food involved, most likely eaten in the evening, and the ‘with me’ part implies that it’d be the two of us, eating that food together.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, but it’s just dinner, right? It’s not...a date?”
“Oh, no, not at all,” he said without any hesitation. “I hope it didn’t sound as though I was suggesting a date. Especially considering our situation. My priority is getting to know Maisie, after all.”
She blushed. Of course he hadn’t intended to suggest a date. He’d traveled four thousand miles and uprooted his life for the chance at being involved with his daughter; the last thing any reasonable man in his situation would do was put everything at risk with romantic entanglements. And she had no reason to believe he was attracted to her.
She was glad he couldn’t read her thoughts, because in spite of the fact that she knew perfectly well that it would be a mistake to date Theo, her spirits had plummeted when he’d explained he was asking her to dinner with no romantic intentions whatsoever. While she wished he hadn’t jumped to clarify his lack of interest in her quite so quickly, it was probably fortunate that his intentions were strictly platonic. She was too busy, and the risks were far too high. Life was complicated enough without adding heartbreak. Not to mention how confusing things could be for Maisie. Even if Theo had been interested in her, he’d have been off-limits to Willow for that reason alone.
But Theo was right about one thing. She needed to get to know him better. He was clearly making a concerted effort to build a life for himself on St. Victoria. If she intended to give him a fair chance, then she’d need to see him more often.
Maybe dinner wasn’t such a bad idea.
“I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” she said.
“I should hope not. Who knows? It might even be fun.”
Dammit. His hazel eyes positively twinkled when he smiled like that. Despite herself, she smiled back, even as her mind continued to resonate with phrases like off-limits and totally inappropriate and probably not even interested, anyway. She told herself to listen to the wisdom of those words.
“What time?” she heard herself say.
* * *
Four days later found Theo trying, desperately and unsuccessfully, to remove dog hair from his suit trousers.
He didn’t have a dog, but he did have an unexpected guest. When he’d leased the house, a large, energetic dust mop that he suspected was a Labrador-poodle mix had been making itself comfortable on the porch. The real estate agent had explained that the Caribbean had a serious problem with strays, and had offered to call animal control. But Theo had a soft spot for dogs, and this one was friendly. And there was something about the dog’s thin frame that touched his heart. The dog needed to get its strength back, just like him. He’d taken to feeding it each morning, although he wouldn’t let it into the house. As much as Theo was determined to make his life on St. Victoria work, he didn’t want the dog to get too attached if he had to leave.
The dog had no such reservations. His enthusiastic greetings had left Theo’s one good pair of trousers covered with fur.
Theo wanted to look presentable for his dinner with Willow, but so far, his attempts were not going well. His once wavy hair still stuck out at odd angles around his head. Except, of course, for the persistent spray that seemed to insist on falling directly over his forehead and into his eyes, no matter what he tried to do with it.
He told himself that there was no reason to be so nervous. It wasn’t as though he was getting ready for a date. He was glad he’d clarified that with Willow from the start, although he still cringed at the awkward way his words had come out.
She’d lost no time in making certain that their dinner was not a date. He knew she’d been wise to do so, and he’d kicked himself for suggesting dinner in the first place. Why not lunch? Why not a coffee after work? Either of those would have accomplished his goal of getting to know Willow better, thereby bringing him that much closer to getting to know Maisie.
But his words—What are the odds that you’ll have dinner with me?—had spilled out before he’d had time to think of something that might sound less like a date.
His feelings, especially his unspoken attraction to Willow, had betrayed him. He couldn’t think of a worse idea than becoming romantically involved with Willow. His relationship with Maisie was completely at her discretion. After years of not knowing if he’d ever see his daughter, he couldn’t allow anything to put his chance to get to know her at risk. Which meant that he had to ignore what he might feel for Willow. He’d already spent the first years of his daughter’s life without her. If he and Willow were involved, and things became complicated, he couldn’t risk losing Maisie again.
He wondered if things could have been different if he and Willow had met under more normal circumstances. He couldn’t deny that he was physically attracted to Willow. He was entranced by the way the waves of her dark brown hair fell against the curve of her neck. And she held herself with such presence: though she had a petite frame, she projected a quiet authority that he imagined she’d developed over her years as a nurse. But it was her warmth, more than anything, that had led him to feel more attracted to her than to anyone he’d met in years. Granted, he’d gone on a very scant handful of dates since his illness was diagnosed four years ago. But even before the diagnosis, he couldn’t remember being so struck by any woman’s warmth and gentleness. Even back in her kitchen, when she’d been in the middle of explaining that she wasn’t certain if he could see his own daughter, she’d expressed such genuine compassion. There was so much he wanted to know about Willow. He wanted to learn where that compassion came from, and who else in her life she might turn that compassion toward. From what he could tell so far, she shared it with everyone.
He was afraid that the more he got to know Willow, the more certain he would be that he wanted her in his life. And no matter how much he wanted her, Maisie was the priority. Even if Willow felt something for him—and he didn’t think she did—but even if she was as interested in him as he was in her, he was certain she would agree that their daughter had to come first.
He caught a glance of himself in the mirror as he threw on a crisp, white shirt and did up the buttons. He’d always been on the muscular side, but now his body looked positively gaunt, the missing muscle all too evident after years of treatment. Pale skin, uncontrollable hair. It felt like a cancer survivor’s body, but it didn’t feel like his body.
He wished it didn’t feel as though there was so much riding on this dinner. He reminded himself, for what felt like the millionth time, that this wasn’t a date. And yet the nervous feelings he had were so similar to the worries he typically had before a date. What if he couldn’t think of anything to say? What if she hated the restaurant he’d picked? What if she decided she hated him, and he never got to know Maisie?
Stop panicking, he told himself firmly. You got through cancer. You can get through this.
* * *
He still hadn’t returned his doctor’s message from when he’d first arrived on the island. He’d been too nervous thinking about his upcoming dinner with Willow to spare a thought for checking in with his doctor. And he wanted some time to enjoy being in remission, before getting into a routine with his follow-up appointments. He needed to live his life. Which, at this moment, meant screwing up his courage and heading to the French Indian fusion restaurant in Williamtown where he was meeting Willow.
He took a deep breath and stepped out onto the veranda. The dog padded toward Theo with hopeful eyes, and leaned against his legs.
“I suppose a little more fur can’t make a difference now,” said Theo, scratching behind the dog’s ears. “Wish me luck, old fellow.”
In response, the dog thumped his tail twice on the porch. Theo decided to interpret this as a good sign. He was going to need all the help he could get.
* * *
Willow couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so nervous. Her mouth was dry, and as she sat across from Theo and tried desperately to think of something to say, it was all she could do to keep her hands from shaking.
Relax, it’s not a date, she tried to tell herself. But somehow, it had the feeling of one.
Theo looked perfectly comfortable in his white, button-down shirt, while she’d simply thrown on an old sundress with a light shawl. But even on an un-date, as she referred to it in her mind, it was horribly awkward trying to think of something to say. She couldn’t imagine how they would begin to feel comfortable with each other.
It didn’t help that his hair, once again, fell just over his forehead. Just try not to look at his hair, and control yourself, she thought. It might have been a while since she’d had an evening out with another adult, but she had a feeling running her fingers through Theo’s tousled hair in the middle of a crowded restaurant wouldn’t do anything to reduce the awkwardness she felt.
When she’d first met Theo, his smile had caught her attention. Later, she’d found that she was quite taken with his eyes. But now, as she watched him peruse the menu, she realized that his hands were quite slender. Steady, careful hands.
Dammit, she thought. Was there anything about him that wasn’t attractive?
She racked her brain for something besides his appearance to talk about. Work. Ask him how work is going.
It was difficult, because she felt as though her mouth was full of cotton, but she managed to squeak out, “How are you adjusting to the clinic?”
He seized upon the question with an eagerness that made Willow suspect that he’d probably been searching for something to talk about, as well.
“It’s fascinating. Although I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to working with celebrity patients. I have to admit that it’s not exactly the clientele I’d always imagined working with.”
“Well, you’ve made quite an impression on Roni Santiago. Providing health care to the rich and famous might just be your calling.”
“Perhaps. I suppose life is full of surprises. Speaking of which...sorry, again, for taking a job at your workplace. I never meant to make you uncomfortable.”
She shrugged. “Don’t worry. It was a surprise at first, but I should have anticipated it. There aren’t too many options for oncologists on one small island.”
He seemed to relax a bit at her words. “I’m glad you feel that way, because I think I might really like working at the Island Clinic. With so many unexpected changes, it hasn’t always been easy to move forward with my career.”
She realized that he was referring to the cancer. “I’m sure it couldn’t have been easy to hold down a job consistently while you were ill.”
“It wasn’t. It’s why I’ve mostly been in research positions, even though my passion is working directly with patients. One of the best things about the Island Clinic is that I get to do some clinical work on the side.”
“You couldn’t find something like that in England?”
“Oh, I could. But then, you see, I learned that my daughter had moved here. Finding her was the priority.”
His jaw had that determined set to it again. Willow felt a twinge of guilt at having treated him with such suspicion at first. She didn’t trust him yet. But she found that she wanted to.
“Is it hard to live so far from the rest of your family?” he asked.
“There’s no other family. My parents died when I was very young, so I was raised by my grandmother, who passed away just after Maisie was born.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right.”
He gave her a rueful smile. “Now there’s a phrase I know all too well. Along with ‘It’s fine’ and ‘Don’t worry about it.’ That’s my set of typical stock phrases for when someone asks a big question without realizing it, and then tries to apologize.”
“Does that happen often?”
“Speaking as a cancer patient, it happens all the time. Sometimes all people can say is ‘I’m so sorry,’ and then all you can say back is ‘It’s all right.’”
She thought about that for a moment. Her response to Theo’s question had been automatic. He was right; it was what she almost always said when people found out about her parents. And she was certain it was what he usually said when people learned he’d had cancer.
“I suppose I’ve been an orphan for so long that it just doesn’t feel unusual to me,” she said. “My parents died in a car accident before I was even a year old. Growing up, I did often wonder what they were like. I was lucky that I at least had Gran to tell me about them. But then, I always felt lucky to have Gran.”
“So she was there to fill their shoes.”
“In a way. She didn’t replace them. She’d have been the first to admit that she never could have taken their place. But she made me feel loved enough that our tiny family felt much bigger than it actually was.”
She hadn’t expected to open up this much to Theo. But she found that she enjoyed talking to him. No one had asked much about her family, or about Gran in particular, for years.
She couldn’t help thinking about the parallels of her own life to Maisie’s. Her daughter had only one other person in the world to rely on, just as Willow had, growing up. As a child, Willow had missed having the presence, the advice, of a father at times. As a mother, she often wished she had the ability to give Maisie a large family. In addition to enriching Maisie’s life, it would have brought Willow peace of mind to know that Maisie would have other family if anything happened to Willow. She wondered if Maisie would begin to wish for more family as she grew older, just as Willow had.
Willow was sure Theo couldn’t have known that her thoughts would turn in this direction when he’d asked about her family.
“What about you?” she asked. “Do you have much family back in England?”
“Four siblings, one of them a twin sister.” He launched into a detailed description of the advantages and drawbacks of having a large family. In addition to his siblings, he seemed to have an extensive network of aunts, uncles and cousins who were all very involved in one another’s lives. As they spoke, Willow realized that she was growing more comfortable. It had been so long since she’d spent an evening with another adult that she’d forgotten it could actually be fun.
But just as she was starting to relax and enjoy herself, a crash came from a few tables away. An older man was at the center of the commotion, surrounded by concerned waitstaff and restaurant patrons. Willow heard a faint cry of “Is anyone a doctor?”
“Looks like we’re on call tonight,” Theo said.
They approached the man, who was heavyset and seemed to be in his late sixties. His skin was beet-red, and his breathing was shallow and rapid. His forehead was hot to the touch, and his heart rate was elevated. He was conscious, but his words weren’t making sense.
“He could be having a stroke,” Theo muttered into her ear. A woman—presumably the man’s wife—fluttered frantically about him in tears. “Does he have any neurological issues?” he asked her.
Willow turned to a waiter. “Get me a large pitcher of ice water,” she said, ignoring Theo’s quizzical look.
The man was wearing a heavy wool sweater, far too thick for the weather. “Help me get this off him,” she said to Theo.
“It was a birthday present,” the man’s wife said through her tears. “He wanted to wear it even though I told him it was far too hot.”
“Has he had any heavy exertion today?” Willow asked.
“We played tennis for a few hours, then I gave him the sweater and we came down here for a few drinks.”
“How much alcohol has he had?”
“Two, maybe three drinks.”
Willow nodded. “He’s overheated. Don’t worry—heatstroke can make people crash hard, but recovery is quick if we act fast.” In fact, the man had already begun to come around as she rubbed his neck and forehead with ice.
“Drink this,” she told him, lifting his head so he could sip a glass of cold water. “And no more alcohol for you today. Overexertion plus alcohol is a recipe for heatstroke.”
Someone had called the paramedics, and the man was already sitting up on his own by the time they arrived on the scene.
“Will he be all right?” his wife asked.
“I’m sure he’ll be fine,” said Willow. “But he should go to the hospital to get checked out.”
The woman thanked them profusely and proceeded to berate her husband. “I told you to take it easy,” she scolded as she packed herself into the back of the ambulance with him.
“I’m impressed,” Theo said. “I never thought of something as simple as heatstroke. I was thinking it was some sort of neurological condition. But then, I tend to overthink things.”
“As a good researcher should,” she said, smiling. “I’ve seen heatstroke a hundred times since moving to the island. Tourists aren’t prepared for the heat of the Caribbean and don’t realize how quickly they can overexert themselves.”
As they headed back to their cold entrees, a waiter approached and let them know the cost of their meal had been compensated, to thank them for their help with the medical emergency. Willow thanked the waiter as Theo poked at his cold food.
“It’s very kind of them, but I’m afraid this evening is a bit of a bust, isn’t it?” said Theo. “Why don’t we take a walk outside?”
They headed out to the boardwalk along the beach, where the sun was just beginning to set, illuminating the beach in tones of red and gold.
“I know this might sound strange, but I’m almost grateful for the medical emergency,” Willow said. “It was nice to feel competent for a moment, after getting so nervous about our dinner together.” She was careful to avoid the word date, even though, somehow, it was starting to feel like one.
“You were nervous? I would never have guessed.”
She laughed. “Come on, you must have noticed how hard it was for me to talk at first.”
“Maybe I didn’t notice because I was nervous, too.”
They stopped walking, and he gazed at her intently. She felt an unexpected wave of heat wash over her, a flush that had nothing to do with the warmth of the Caribbean air.
It’s time to go home, she thought to herself. Time to wrap that shawl around your shoulders like a respectable woman, and go home to take care of your child.
But then Theo traced her arm, lightly, and her shawl slipped even lower on her shoulders. And somehow, Willow found herself not moving to put it back where it belonged. He was standing close to her, and she took in just how very tall he was. Her head fit just under his chin.
“How’s your arm?” he said. For a moment she didn’t know what he meant, but then she realized he was referring to when the reporter had grabbed her.
“Oh,” she said distractedly. “It’s fine. It’s nothing...it barely left a mark.”
The determined set to his jaw was starting to become familiar. She felt one of his arms circle her, protectively, and she didn’t resist as he pulled her close against his chest.
She turned her face up toward his and lost herself in his clear, hazel eyes. He bent his head to hers and kissed her, softly at first, but then more deeply as she let her body melt against his. Things were moving far too fast, she knew, but she was also powerless to resist the sensation of his lips on hers. His arms enveloped her, one tight around her waist, the other caressing the waves of her hair that fell against her shoulder.
A current of heat ran through her entire body. It was agonizing to pull away from him, but she made herself do it. Not because she wanted the kiss to stop, but because she knew she’d reached the end of her resistance. If she didn’t stop now, she never would. And there were so many reasons to stop. The primary reason was at home with Mrs. Jean, waiting for Willow to return and read her a bedtime story.
Theo held her for a moment longer, until she forced herself to step out of his arms.
The sun had gone down, and they were shrouded in darkness. There were only a few lights from further up the beach. After they’d walked together for a moment or two, Theo broke their silence.
“I’d give anything to know what you’re thinking.”
She wasn’t sure how to begin. Or where to begin. She wanted to explain to him that she had sworn off relationships. She had responsibilities. She couldn’t risk getting hurt again. And there was Maisie. She wanted him to understand.
But more than anything, she wanted him to kiss her again.
She was about to say that they’d made a mistake, but then she stopped. Honesty was important to her. “That was nice,” she admitted.
His eyes were afire. “I can show you more than nice.”
She was willing to bet that he could. But she had a daughter. She had to be cautious.
“I think, for now, we might have to leave it at nice,” she said firmly.
“Because of the reason I think you’re thinking of?”
“That’s probably the main reason, yes.”
He nodded. “Because no matter what we might be feeling for one another, those feelings have to be put on hold. We can’t risk whatever happens between us affecting Maisie. Because that’s the right thing to do.”
She gave him the smallest of smiles. “I think you’re starting to understand what it means to be a parent, Theo Moore.”
He let out a long breath. “I think so, too. So nothing can happen between us.”
She knew she should leave it at that. She should go home, without saying one thing more. She knew enough of who Theo was by now to know that if she never said another word about it, he would never bring up any of this again, out of respect for her.
But she couldn’t accept that she’d had her last kiss with him.
She couldn’t help herself. She blurted out, “Not for now, anyway.”
He’d been looking out at the ocean, and now he whirled toward her. Dammit. His eyes did light up when he smiled. “Wait a minute. When you say, ‘for now’...does that mean that there could be a later in our future?”
“I can’t pretend to know what the future holds. But I think I can safely say that there could be a ‘later’ for us. And when that later time comes, I might be interested in more.”
He smiled, and she was glad it was dark, so that he couldn’t see her resistance melting away. “I can handle later,” he said. “I’ve been waiting a long time for my life to start. I can wait a little more.”