Belle grabbed their trash while he shook out the blankets then took off after her down the dune. He didn’t even try to catch her, knowing he’d be the one heading back to his office that afternoon anyway—to check on his cases and handle some paperwork.
Back to reality, whether he was ready or not.
CHAPTER NINE
BELLE HUMMED TO herself later that day as she restocked gloves and swabs and gauze in each exam room at the clinic. Connor was there helping her, telling her all about his hockey practice earlier and the new video game he and his friend Eric had played the previous evening.
She nodded and smiled when appropriate, though she had no clue about hockey or video games. But it was just as well since her thoughts were still wrapped up in memories of her and Nick together the night before.
In the years she and Nick had been apart she’d been far too focused on her career to consider putting a relationship before her work. Part of it had been ambition, but part of it had been the promise she’d made to her parents, the need to stay close to them. And perhaps another part of it was a tiny secret hope that maybe one day fate would bring her and Nick back together again.
Oh, boy. Don’t go there.
“What’s this thing?” Connor asked, nose scrunched as he held up a speculum.
“Oh, Um...that’s for female exams,” she said, shoving the thing back into a drawer below the exam table. “Why don’t you fill up the jars on the counter with cotton balls?”
“Sure.” Connor grabbed the plastic bag full of white puffs and started stuffing them by the handful into the glass canisters while giving her some serious side-eye. “Do you like my dad?”
Belle froze. Kids were far more perceptive than people gave them credit for, and she shouldn’t have been surprised he’d picked up on the connection between her and Nick. Still, knowing what he’d been through with his mother, she certainly wasn’t comfortable telling him the truth yet. “Your father and I are friends.”
Connor narrowed his gaze. “Like Eric and me?”
“Sort of.” Belle fumbled the roll of paper she was putting on the exam table, heat prickling her cheeks.
Connor looked away, shoving more cotton balls into the jar. “My mom died.”
Her heart went into freefall and her breath hitched. “I know, honey. I’m so sorry.”
“Dad doesn’t talk about her anymore.” Connor jammed down the cotton balls with more force than necessary. “He thinks if he doesn’t talk about Mom, I won’t be sad, but it makes me miss her more.”
She’d wondered if this conversation might occur and led little boy over to the two chairs along the wall. The fact Nick didn’t discuss his wife anymore didn’t surprise her. Considering his guilt and his desire to protect his son, it was understandable, if misguided. Still, it wouldn’t have helped Connor deal with his loss. Those kinds of wounds didn’t heal overnight. She should know. “Tell me about her.”
Connor stared down at his toes, his expression bereft. “Like what?”
“I don’t know.” Belle recalled the things she still remembered most about her own parents, what brought her comfort, things only someone who’d lost a loved one would understand. “What did your mom’s favorite perfume smell like? What made her laugh? What was her nickname for you? My mother always smelled like lilacs. And she laughed at cows. Don’t ask me why. She’s the one who first called me Belle. My dad always called me Chris, but it never stuck the way Belle did.”
The little boy sighed, the shoulders of his Blackhawks jersey rising and falling. He looked up at her finally, the sorrow in his eyes squeezing her chest with compassion. “My mom didn’t wear perfume. She was allergic. But I always thought she smelled like snow, even in the summer. Crisp and clean. She called me Con, same as Dad. She used to laugh at silly cat videos on the internet. There was one called ‘Surprised Kitty’ she loved. Want to see it?”
Belle nodded and he pulled out his phone, pulling up an adorable video for her to watch. She couldn’t help laughing herself. “Amazing.”
“Yeah.” Connor gave a sad little smile. “I watch this a lot. Makes me feel better.”
“It’s good to have things that remind you of her.” She put her arm around him, rubbing his arm. “I’ve found some things at my aunt’s house to take back with me to California. Mementos of my parents.” She sighed. “I didn’t realize how much I missed them until I saw those things again.”
Connor blinked up at her. “Must’ve been hard to lose both your parents. Even though Dad bugs me sometimes, I can’t imagine not having him.” He stared down at his phone screen. “It’s hard, missing people.”
“Yes, it is.” She pulled the little boy into her side. “But we’re lucky, we had people who love us and who took care of us as we healed.”
“Dad tries really hard make up for Mom being gone, but sometimes I still talk to her. Weird, huh?”
“No.” Belle frowned. “I still talk to my parents too on occasion.” She ruffled Connor’s hair. “And you should tell your dad this stuff too. Let him know what you’re thinking about. You know he’s only protective of you because he loves you, right?”
“I guess.” He shrugged. “But I’m eight. I can take care of myself.” Connor narrowed his gaze on her once more. “If you and my dad are friends, I bet he’s bummed you’re leaving.”
Me too, she wanted to say, but swallowed the words down deep. “He’ll be fine.”
“My dad’s lonely.” Connor crossed his arms. “He doesn’t think I know, but I do.”
She placed her hand on his small shoulder, feeling a warm tug of tenderness. “Your dad’s one of the best guys I know. Be patient with him. He’s trying.” Warm affection swelled inside her for Nick and his son. “Someday you’ll both be happy again.”
“Really?” Connor scrunched his nose, clearly skeptical.
“Really.” Belle laughed. “Thanks for telling me about your mom.”
“Thanks for letting me talk about her. I see why my dad likes you so much. Maybe we can be friends too?”
“We can.” Her heart felt full to bursting and she blinked back unexpected tears before she stifled them. “We should get back to work before your dad comes in here and sees us slacking. He mentioned something about going for ice cream tomorrow.”
“Seriously?” Connor’s face lit up.
“Seriously. What’s your favorite flavor?”
“Blue moon!” Connor hopped down from his chair and went back over to the counter to fill a second jar with cotton balls. Belle went back to the exam table, cherishing the fragile bond she’d just forged with Nick’s son. Considering she was in her midthirties now, the chances of her having a family of her own were growing slimmer by the year. She’d always thought she’d have children of her own one day. She would’ve loved to have a little boy like Connor.
“I wish House of Flavors was open in the winter,” he said. “I’d kill for a Super Pig.”
“Really?” she said, hoping to distract herself from the throb of yearning in her heart. The sundaes he was talking about were huge. Nine scoops of ice cream plus toppings. Nick had eaten a whole one himself once in high school and gotten a badge for his efforts. Belle grinned and finished installing a roll of paper on the table, then grabbed a box of paper gowns to fill the drawer below. “My favorite was the Almond Joy, but your dad always loved—”
“Loved what?” Nick asked, poking his head around the door. “Sounds like you guys are having way too much fun without me.”
“We are,” Connor said, glancing at Belle. “She and I are friends now too, Dad.”
“Great. Belle’s an awesome friend.” Nick gave Belle an inquiring look as he shrugged out of his coat and slung it over his arm. He winked at her when Connor wasn’t looking, and molten warmth spread through her once more. “Don’t forget we’ve got the Chamber of Commerce Holiday Ball later.”
&n
bsp; “Right.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. She’d kind of been hoping to get out of it actually after last night with Nick. It was an annual event in Bayside, lots of townsfolk, lots of dancing and revelry. Lots of gossip over who was doing what and whom. They’d originally planned on attending to promote the free clinic, but now Belle would just as soon skip it. Word had already spread about the Christmas Eve reopening and with what had happened between them last night, everything felt too new and confusing and a bit much, to be honest. But she had promised the mayor she’d be there, and she hated to let people down. No. It was too late to back out now.
She forced a smile and said, “Yep.”
As father and son bantered back and forth about Connor’s night at Eric’s house and the upcoming big hockey game in Manistee, Belle continued to work and ignored the sudden sadness welling inside her. She had helped Aunt Marlene restock these rooms when she was Connor’s age. They’d have long talks about life and love and whatever issues Belle was dealing with. Kind of like the conversation she’d had with Connor. Up until now, Belle had done her best to compartmentalize things, keeping her emotions about Bayside away from the situation with Dr. Reyes and her patients back in California.
Now, though, as the last few days in her hometown drew near and reality sank in, the weight threatened to crush her like a runaway train. Her crazy schedule had never bothered Belle before but being back home again had made her long for a simpler life, for what she’d had once upon a time here in Bayside.
Thoughts like those were dangerous, though. What if last night with Nick had been so magical and special and unforgettable because it was fleeting? Rare things were often the most prized. Long-distance relationships never worked, and Nick hadn’t mentioned wanting one anyway.
He was happy here and she had her place in California. For eighteen years she’d managed not to get her heart broken again, by Nick or anyone else. And not being heartbroken, not having your life shattered into a million tiny pieces, was way better than the alternative.
* * *
Nick pulled up to Belle’s house promptly at seven and walked to the front door, adjusting the jacket of his tux with one hand while holding a bouquet of pink roses in the other. He’d remembered they were Belle’s favorites, or at least he thought they were. If last night had felt like a date, this evening felt like a test. A test of what life could have been like if they’d both stayed in Bayside and not gone on separate paths. After making love with Belle, they were...
Well, he wasn’t quite sure what exactly they were, but the thought of her happy and smiling made wearing a tux again bearable. Con had snorted when he’d taken a look at Nick tonight and shaken his head, telling his dad to say hi to Belle for him. Mollie had looked him up and down and given him a thumbs-up, as well. The residents of Bayside didn’t get glammed up often—it was a summer beach town, after all—so the holiday ball was a big occasion. Plus, it would give him another chance to hold Belle in his arms, so Nick couldn’t really complain.
He rang the bell then waited, his blood zinging with anticipation.
Belle opened the door, looking amazing. Her auburn hair was twisted atop her head and tiny crystals sparkled from her earlobes. Her long red dress was cut high in the front and low in the back, the fabric falling in a silky rush to her toes. He was pretty sure Vicki had called those necklines halter-style once, but whatever it was named, he was all for it. Eyeing the closure at the back of her neck, it appeared he could give it one tug later when they were alone and remove said gown in a hurry.
Or not. Maybe he’d take his time instead. Nice and slow. Trace his tongue down her creamy flesh, inch by inch, tasting her smooth skin, nipping the spot at the base of her neck that drove her wild, feel her fingers catch in his hair, hear her gasp his name, all breathy and wanton, as his fingers crept up her thigh, taking the dress with them, leaving her fantastic legs bare...
Good Lord. One night with his old flame had turned him into a randy teen again.
“Do I look all right?” she asked, breaking him out of his erotic haze.
“Perfect.” He handed her the roses then leaned in for a quick kiss. “Gorgeous.”
“You don’t think it’s too much for Bayside?” she asked, waving him into the foyer while she carried the flowers to the kitchen, putting them into a vase on the table, before she returned to grab her coat and bag. She was wearing the same pumps she’d had on at Marlene’s funeral. The slippery, spiky ones that had made her cling to him for support. He was beginning to love those shoes more each day. “I found it in my old closet. I must have bought it to wear to something, but never did.”
“No. I would’ve remembered you in that, Belle. And it’s not too much. You look amazing. Every man there tonight will wish he was me.” Nick slipped her coat over her shoulders then kissed the nape of her neck, enjoying her slight shiver. “Ready?”
“Yep.” She checked her appearance in the mirror once more, then linked arms with him and followed him out to his truck.
* * *
Half an hour later, they were inside the ballroom at the chamber of commerce building on Main Street, a nineteen-twenties architectural gem, filled with intricate parquet floors and art deco décor. The place looked beautiful, filled with poinsettias and white roses and clear twinkling lights. Candles flickered on the tables and wall sconces glowed. They were sharing a table with Jeanette and her husband and Juan and Rosa Hernandez. Nick and Belle took seats across from Jeanette and beside Juan and his wife.
“Hey, Doc.” Juan raised his hand. “I’m glad you two are here. I got a call from the plastic surgery office in Detroit today. They want to see Analia after the first of the year to evaluate her for their pro bono program.”
“Fantastic!” Nick reached across Belle to shake the man’s hand. “Congratulations, my friend. I’m glad all the paperwork we filled out finally paid off.”
“We’re pretty excited,” Juan said. “Haven’t told Analia yet. Figured we’d wait until Christmas. She’s been praying for this surgery, so it’ll be the best present ever.”
“Wonderful,” Belle said, smiling. “Really great.”
Nick squeezed her shoulder, not missing the flicker of disappointment across her lovely face. He frowned slightly and leaned in to whisper, “Everything okay?”
“Fine. Thanks.” She waited until the Juan and his wife left the table to dance before continuing. “I just couldn’t help picturing myself doing the surgery, even though that’s totally impossible. I’m not here long enough to get involved and I’m sure your colleague in Detroit will do an awesome job. Silly, right?”
“No. Not silly at all.” He kissed her cheek and pulled her closer into his side for a moment before noticing the scrutiny of his receptionist, Jeanette, from across the table. She watched them closely over the rim of her punch glass, her gaze darting between the two of them before she murmured, “Good for you, boss.”
Nick resisted the urge to deny everything, because frankly it was true. Being with Belle these past few days had shown him perhaps there was another way to live, another way to be happy, without his constant burden of guilt. Connor seemed to be adjusting and thriving too, even without Nick’s constant hovering. Perhaps his promise to Vicki had been fulfilled. His son was safe and secure. Maybe it was time to stop worrying so much.
“I want you to move on, Nick. I don’t want you to be alone.”
Vicki’s words looped through his head again. A week ago he would’ve scoffed, unable to picture allowing himself ever falling in love again. But now maybe...
The song ended and Juan and his wife returned just as the salads were being served. Nick sat back, removing his arm from around Belle’s shoulders and missing her warmth immediately.
She scooted a bit closer to the table and flicked her napkin open across her lap, picking up her fork and chatting with Juan and Rosa as they ate. “If either of you have any questions ab
out what to expect with Analia’s surgery, please feel free to ask. I obviously won’t know the specifics but can speak to general things about such cases.”
“Perfect,” Rosa said. “I actually do have so many questions. What can we expect for our daughter postoperatively?”
“Analia’s a lovely girl,” Belle said. “But I’ve not done a full examination so, again, I can only speak in generalities. Be sure to verify all of this with your surgeon in Detroit.” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin and took a swallow of chardonnay. “But based on my brief observations of your daughter and my past experience with Crouzon’s, I’d say most likely the surgeon with choose to go with what’s called a Lefort III procedure. Given Analia’s age and the fact she’s having issues with sleep apnea, it’s the most efficient surgery at this point, though not without complications. It’s a long recovery. About eighteen months from start to finish. And it can be challenging.”
“What about her eating?” Juan said. “I’ve done some looking online and belong to a couple of social media support groups.”
“Your daughter will need to be on a liquid diet until she graduates to soft foods, so make sure you have straws.” Belle sat back as the waiter removed her salad plate and replaced it with the main entrée—roasted chicken breast with veggies. Nick couldn’t help thinking how relaxed she seemed, talking shop, and how she’d fit right back into life here in Bayside. For once the idea didn’t bother him at all. “Also, be sure she has plenty of clothes she can get in and out of through the front or back, since she won’t be able to slip things over her head.”
Juan nodded and pulled out his phone to type in notes. “Anything else?”
“You might want to consider counseling, as well.”
“Counseling?” Nick stiffened. “Why? Analia’s the most well-adjusted child I’ve ever met. She’s always happy. Is a therapist really necessary?”
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