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Helen poured herself a glass of wine and stepped out onto her back deck. Megan and Nora had just left, and as much as Helen adored her granddaughter, peace and quiet and alcohol were always welcome after dealing with the little girl’s abundant energy all day.
She lowered herself into the all-weather wicker patio chair, sinking onto its deep foam cushion with a grateful sigh. Resting her bare feet on the low table the furniture was grouped around, she grinned at the pedicure Nora had given her. A different colour adorned each toe, and there was as much polish on her skin as on the nails, but it was beautiful to Helen’s eyes.
It had been easy to ignore thoughts of next week’s biopsy while she’d been distracted by Nora’s rapid chatter and vibrant imagination. But the moment she let her guard down the anxiety swept in. Helen had always prided herself on not worrying about things that couldn’t be changed. Summoning that serenity had been challenging the last couple of days.
The opening bars of the Swedish national anthem sounded from the kitchen, where she’d left her cell phone. With a groan she rose to her feet, hips and back complaining, and went to answer.
Sven Wiebe, owner of Golden Dragon Tattoos and Helen’s boss, never called for social reasons. She wondered idly what the matter could be as she swiped to connect. “Hi, Sven.”
“We’re gonna do it.” His gruff, gravelly voice rumbled through the speaker.
She sighed. “Do what, Sven?” Roundabout conversations were the norm with her boss.
“Go to Thailand. India and me. We leave in a month.”
India was another part-time receptionist at Golden Dragon, and also Sven’s on-again-off-again girlfriend. They appeared to be on-again. Helen wasn’t sure their turbulent relationship would survive the flight to Bangkok, let alone months spent in close proximity, but that wasn’t her place to say. “Good for you. You deserve a vacation. How long will you be gone?” He hadn’t taken more than a long weekend in the two years Helen had worked for him.
“That’s the thing. We don’t know.”
Helen frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Me and India, we don’t want to be tied down with a return date.”
“Oh, I see.” That sounded very Sven-influenced-by-India, but she could handle that curveball. “So you want me to manage Golden Dragon while you’re gone?”
“No.”
She stiffened at his uncompromising reply. She thought they’d built a solid professional relationship. If he didn’t think she could keep the business afloat during his absence—
“I want you to buy it.” Sven’s words sliced like a sharpened blade through her disgruntled thoughts.
She’d left her wineglass outside and could see it from where she stood. Nope, still full. She wasn’t drunk then. “Come again?”
“I’m selling Golden Dragon. Wanted you to have first crack at it.”
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SEVERAL MINUTES LATER, Helen staggered out and collapsed on the outdoor sofa once again, feeling rather as if she’d been run over by a bulldozer. Sven had finally agreed to discuss his harebrained idea the next day, when she would be at the shop, though he hadn’t been happy about the delay.
Helen Mansfield, high school art teacher turned tattoo parlor owner. She buried her nose in her as-yet-untouched wineglass and snorted. Aaron would have been laughing his ass off. And telling her to go for it.
She could afford it, based on the asking price Sven had mentioned. She and Aaron had made wise investments, and with her pension and Aaron’s life insurance she was nicely set. It was an established business and she was a reasonably intelligent woman, so the risk would be acceptable.
I could own my own business. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought of, but now she had, the challenge tickled at her, made her blood race. But how could she make such a momentous decision with the threat of cancer looming? She was under no illusions as to the devastating effects treatment could have on her stamina. She shouldn’t even consider the idea.
Yet she couldn’t stop thinking about it.
A gritty grating sound drew her attention to the yard next door. The floor of the deck was about level with the top of the fences separating her home from the houses on either side, so years ago Aaron had installed lattice on top of the railings for additional privacy. It didn’t obscure her view so much that she couldn’t identify Nathan as he stepped out onto his patio, a stemless wineglass in hand.
Helen shrank down in her seat, and immediately realized how ridiculous that was. Before today, she would have hallooed cheerily across the space and invited him to bring his drink over. They might have discussed Sven’s offer—minus the cancer issue, of course—maybe even had a pickup dinner together.
But they’d had sex, and now she was so self-conscious she could combust. That was only one reason for the heat suffusing her veins, though.
She wanted to be with him again, naked and sweaty and gasping. What she’d intended to be a one-time event had stirred longings she’d buried deep inside, and now those longings were scraping at her nerves, demanding to be fed.
He stood hipshot and relaxed at the edge of the cement pad that jutted out into the grassy expanse of lawn, sipping his drink. He wore work clothes—light-coloured slacks and a discreetly patterned dress shirt. He’d unbuttoned the long sleeves and rolled them back on his forearms, probably in deference to the heat still shimmering off the patio even this late in the afternoon. He rarely wore a tie to the office, and if he had today, he’d already removed it, the collar framing his throat casually loose.
A bubble of desire tickled her belly, and Helen gulped her wine to ease her dry mouth. She hadn’t expected this lingering attraction, and needed to rein it in. No matter how much she might want to repeat their encounter, she couldn’t do so in good conscience, not with what was looming over her.
Before she could look away, Nathan turned, lifted his chin, and made eye contact through the lattice. His face lit in his familiar grin, and then faltered. Maybe she wasn’t the only one wondering how their relationship had changed after last night. Suppressing an absurd urge to duck even lower, she lifted one hand and waggled her fingers in a feeble greeting.
“Hey.” He raised his glass, golden liquid glowing in the sunlight. “Do you mind if I come over?”
It had been a long time since Nathan had asked if it was okay to drop in. The two couples and their kids had been in and out of each other’s houses without ceremony for decades. The polite question highlighted the shift between them.
She cleared her throat. “Of course not.”
He nodded and disappeared inside. She waited, irritatingly breathless with unwanted anticipation, until he reappeared a minute later, emerging from the narrow space between her house and the fence that led to the front yard. The silver in his hair glinted as he circled the deck and climbed the flight of stairs to join her.
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NATHAN HADN’T BEEN able to prevent a bloom of pleasure when he’d seen Helen on her deck, though it had been quickly replaced with an unwelcome uncertainty.
Awkward emotions had had no place in his other two affairs. With those women, he’d been looking for short-term companionship, and yes, sex. Helen was...different. He had felt something for her, something deeper than friendship, warmer than desire, even before they’d made love. But now, if he wanted to explore what they might have together, he’d have to reject his second—and probably last—chance at promotion. There was no way to have both, especially with the move his new job would require.
She watched with a wary expression as he climbed the stairs to her deck. He didn’t blame her for feeling ill at ease. They’d upset the traditional balance of their relationship. It didn’t matter that they’d known each other for decades—last night had changed everything.
His stomach knotted with unaccustomed nerves as he took a seat on the sofa, knowing they had to talk. He decided to ease into the conversation with a safe question.
“How was your day?” He knew Helen’s schedule as well as he knew his own. She stared blankly for a moment, then smiled, her tense shoulders relaxing. Spending time with her granddaughter always put her in a good mood.
“It was great. Nora and I went to the water park in the morning and then after lunch she gave me a pedicure.” She raised one foot and pointed her toes so he could admire the sparkling rainbow of colours.
He let his gaze trail up her calf, past her knee, to the smooth thigh bared by her short skirt. Now he knew exactly how satiny her skin was, what the plump folds between her legs tasted like...
His wandering thoughts brought unexpected clarification. While he would have to spend every available hour between now and the end of the month closing the Mount Morgan deal to secure his promotion, he was sure he could carve out time for Helen. Her reaction last night had indicated she wasn’t looking for anything long-term. Maybe this was exactly what she was looking for.
He worked saliva into his dry mouth. “Very nice. She has a talent.”
Amusement gleamed in her bright eyes. “How about you? How was your day?”
“Good, good.” His gut—and years of negotiations—told him to hold back the news about the Vancouver Island job for now. If she seemed hesitant at what he was about to propose, he could sweeten the pot by mentioning his possible departure.
Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees while cupping his empty glass in both hands, and met Helen’s gaze. “I can’t stop thinking of you, of what we did together. I admit, I was surprised at first. But I am very glad you asked me.”
Helen’s focus flittered away and a flush rose on her cheeks. “I enjoyed it, too.”
“I’d like to do it again.” That got her attention, as he’d intended. Her body stilled, all but for a rapid pulse beating in her neck. “Tonight, if you’re amenable.”
She dropped her feet to the floor and straightened in her seat, a deep frown creasing her brow. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
He hadn’t expected her to fling herself into his lap, but he had thought she’d be a little more open to the idea. “Tonight? Or ever?”
“Ever.”
He should have left it at that. But he had seen her eyes drift down his body before flicking shyly away. One more try wouldn’t hurt.
With the ease of long habit he slipped into bargaining mode. “Can you explain why not? You said you enjoyed yourself, and I know I did. I also got the impression you don’t want anything too serious, and neither do I. If you’re worried being lovers might—”
She cut him off before he could promise not to let sex ruin their friendship. “Lovers?” Her mouth pressed into a thin line. “Exactly what did you think last night was all about, Nathan?”
Taken aback, he asked with wary caution, “What did you think it was?”
“I didn’t mean to mislead you. I’m not looking for a—a lover, either short or long-term. I was given disturbing news yesterday and was feeling lonely, vulnerable. I turned to you because I knew you wouldn’t take advantage of that.”
So something had been bothering her. He should have pressed her then, not let her distract him with passion. He wouldn’t let her get away with it a second time. “What disturbing news, Helen?”
“Nothing that affects you.”
“The hell it doesn’t.” He placed his wine glass on the table with a sharp crack and Helen flinched. “You’re my friend, first and foremost. You can’t say something like that and not explain yourself.”
She lifted her chin. “Just because we slept together doesn’t mean you can start making demands.”
“It has nothing to do with having slept together.” Although maybe it did. He had never felt this protective of Helen before. But joining their bodies had obviously ignited his primitive impulses. He rose and took a seat beside her on the couch. Her eyes widened as he gripped her hand in both of his. “I care for you, Helen. You have to know that. And I’m sure whatever I’m imagining is worse than the truth. So put me out of my misery. What’s going on?”
“I can’t tell you.”
Tears welled in her eyes and horror gripped him. The only time he’d seen Helen cry was at Aaron’s funeral. “Is it Megan? Is everything okay with her?” His lungs locked. “Or Nora? Tell me this has nothing to do with Nora.”
Helen shook her head in rapid, jerky movements. Relief did nothing to dull the creep of fear down his spine. “It’s you then.” He became aware his grasp of her hands was so tight he could feel her bones rubbing together and immediately relaxed his muscles. “For god’s sake, Helen. Tell me.”
She searched his face for interminable seconds, then her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I might have breast cancer.”