Found: A Mother for His Son. Dianne Drake

undies were still packed away, their status yet to be determined.

      “About us.”

      “There isn’t an us, Dermott. That was a long time ago, and it didn’t go far enough to be considered anything other than a good time between two people who got along. We weren’t headed anywhere then.” He didn’t come inside. In fact, when she opened the door he stepped back and leaned against the staircase railing. It was a casual stance, arms folded across his chest, one leg crossed over the other. Casual, and utterly sexy.

      Dermott chuckled. “You have your version, I have mine. And for my version, I have a couple of things for which I’d like to apologize.”

      “Why?” she asked, trying to muster up a little indifference when her heart was doing the exact opposite. This was the way he’d affected her all those years ago, and nothing had changed, it seemed.

      “I remembered some nice times between us, and I haven’t had much of anything nice in my life lately. Other than Max, that is. I thought having you come here would…” He shifted position, crammed his hands into his jeans pockets. “ You’re too good to be stuck in a practice like this one, and that’s my first apology. I knew that when I asked you here, but I asked you anyway because I always liked having you around. We were good together. You made me a better doctor, and that’s something I’ve remembered all these years. So when I saw you, and you said you were looking for a new position…”

      So the us he wanted to talk about was professional. That was disappointing. Safe, but disappointing. “I’m the one who came running after you, remember? You offered, I declined, then changed my mind. So there’s no need to apologize, because it was my choice. And I liked working with you, too.” Better than she had with any other doctor, actually.

      “You did?”

      “I did. You were…different. So many of the other doctors took the nurses for granted, and you…It was like we were equals. You respected us. Gave us credit for what we knew. And you weren’t put off by suggestions, like so many doctors are.”

      “Because we’re all in it together. It would be stupid not to respect someone with a different kind of experience than mine because I never know what’s going to click medically with a patient. As far as I’m concerned, every opinion counts, especially when they’re coming from a nurse who has such a good instinct for her work. To be honest, Jenna, I’d have rather had you, a nurse, at my side than just about any doctor, and it wasn’t because you’re beautiful and I enjoyed looking at you. I enjoyed your professional approach, trusted it, trusted you.” She didn’t know what to make of that because he’d never said such things in the past, but she was pleased. Surprised, and pleased. He knew her favorite ice cream, thought she was a competent professional, thought she was beautiful…so much awareness and she wasn’t sure she wanted anyone to be aware. It almost caused her some hope…hope for other things, things she was afraid to let in. “I’m sorry your times haven’t been so good lately, Dermott. I know it must be difficult raising your son alone, and…” Did he still think her beautiful? “Did you remember my birthday?” He cleared his throat. “Your birthday?” “November fourteenth. You know, eleven-fourteen.” “What makes you think I would remember your birthday?” “It’s the combination to your safe. I just thought…” Whatever she’d thought was crazy. And now the moment was on the verge of turning awkward. She could feel it, and from the strained expression on Dermott’s face, and the way he was standing straight and stiff now, he could feel it, too. Time to change the subject, find a graceful way to turn around the conversation before any more silly questions popped out. “Anyway, I’m glad I decided to come here. It seems like a nice place to live, and—”

      “She was a drug addict. My wife. She abused drugs and alcohol and did bad things. It was the talk of the town before she died, still is at times. And I thought you should know because you’ll hear it from other people at some point. I was married to a woman who had serious problems that weren’t kept very quiet, or very private.”

      “Oh, my…” That explained so much, and her heart did go out to him. But he wasn’t here looking for sympathy, wasn’t looking for someone to talk to. He was merely here to state a fact, and that’s how she had to take it—as a matter of fact. “I appreciate your honesty. It couldn’t have been easy for you.”

      “It wasn’t. Not for either of us.” That’s all he said. Then he turned to leave.

      “So what’s the other thing you came to apologize for?” she asked, not sure if she wanted to change the tone of his parting, or if she wanted to keep him there a while longer. “You did say there were a couple of things.”

      He stopped, still facing away from her, then paused, as if considering whether or not he wanted to get into anything else with her, or if one truth was enough to admit. Then, finally, he turned back to face her. “Well, there was that brief but unforgettable few weeks we had…culminating with that day in the closet.” His mouth curved into a wicked smile, one that had never failed to pull her in.

      “And you want to apologize for that? Because I thought it was rather good.”

      “I want to apologize for it not being more than a few weeks. And I thought it was more than rather good.”

      Those were memories that had always brought about a wistful sigh, followed by some very pleasant fantasies. And she, too, was sorry that those few weeks couldn’t have been followed by a few more. “It was what it was.” Lame words, because there could have been more, but she’d used their little escapade in the closet to end everything after she’d got scared by the intensity of her own feelings. “No apologies necessary.”

      “So are we OK about this, Jenna? You and me working together in a practice that isn’t exactly thriving these days?”

      Was this where he came right out and told her he wasn’t interested in anything other than work? Because that would be for the best. Getting the relationship on track right now so there would be no misunderstandings later on was exactly what they needed to do. Although it was a little disappointing. “I’m OK about it.

      “But you’re bigger than life, Jenna. I saw that the first time I set eyes on you and I doubt you’ve changed all that much. You tackle life in a way no one else does, and I’m not sure anything I have here will suit you for very long.”

      “You underestimate me, then.”

      “I don’t underestimate you, Jenna. Trust me, that’s something I’d never do.”

      She was flattered. But afraid of the look she saw in his eyes. This was the Dermott she used to know, but in such a different way. It was something intense, and profound. “I want to stay here, Dermott. Although the work does have to fulfill me, and I am concerned that if you’re cutting back on what you do there won’t be enough for me to do here. I’m not larger than life, and I try not to have big expectations, but my work…it’s all I have, and what I’m seeing here scares me, because you don’t have the same passion for it the way you used to.”

      “The passion hasn’t died, Jenna. But the circumstances have changed, and I do have different priorities now. Max comes first in everything, and that’s the only way it can be. I’ve cut back my practice because I have to. With help, I can start growing the practice again, and it’s time to do that. But my work won’t consume me the way it did when you used to know me because I have Max now.”

      She understood that, and even envied him his newfound conviction. But that didn’t alleviate all her doubts over how this could work out. Or if it would. Maybe there was an expectation creeping in, even after she’d tried so hard to keep it out. Damn it, though. This was Dermott. How could she not have expectations of some kind? Dangerous, if not deluded expectations? “One day at a time, Dermott. Maybe that’s the way we should start this. We’ll keep the expectations to a minimum and simply take it as it comes. OK?” No expectations? Yeah, right! Still, maybe unpacking only half her undies would be the smartest thing to do.

      “Slow and careful,” he agreed.