by Gina Wilkins
So why was she having so much trouble now, when everything had been going so well? What was it about Nathan that he could slip past emotional barriers that no other man had been able to bypass? A couple of guys had tried, but she had never been swayed from her ultimate goal—full partnership in a solid, secure, successful practice. Maybe here in Honesty with Nathan or perhaps in an older, larger firm somewhere else.
Because of her mother’s condition, it was convenient for now to be here, only an hour’s drive from the nursing home, but she was still open to offers. She had always believed she was free to pick up and leave at any time, with proper notification to her partner, of course, and suitable arrangements for her mother. She wasn’t at all comfortable with the sensation that insidious little tendrils were twining around her ankles—or her heart, perhaps?—making her feel that it wouldn’t be as easy to leave this place as she had previously believed.
She was fully aware of the contradictions in her emotional reasoning; the almost-obsessive need to be free to leave even as she worked ceaselessly toward long-term security. Maybe a psychologist could analyze that dichotomy; she simply accepted it as a result of her childhood experiences. She was as afraid of emotional bonds as she was of career obstacles.
Nathan and Isabelle definitely represented at least one of those fears.
As if to recall her attention to matters at hand, one of the documents on her desk ruffled in a gust of temperature-controlled air from a ceiling vent. Great, she thought with a scowl. Now she’d drifted off into philosophical soul searching instead of the painstaking scrutiny of property descriptions.
Vowing to be more productive for the rest of the day, she directed her attention fully to the papers in front of her.
Chapter Nine
Caitlin managed to work uninterrupted for another hour. After making a final note on the yellow legal pad in front of her, she closed the case file. Might as well take a break, she thought, stretching casually.
Maybe she would pop into Nathan’s office for a couple of minutes. She had promised Isabelle she would look at her dollhouse. It would be rude not to follow through on that promise.
Nathan’s door was open. She heard his computer keyboard clattering as she approached. She had almost reached the doorway when she heard Isabelle singing very quietly—a nursery rhyme, perhaps? Pausing in the doorway, she took in the scene. Nathan was hard at work at his desk, his brow creased in concentration, and Isabelle sat cross-legged on the carpet, contentedly arranging furniture in a colorful plastic dollhouse.
It was a sight that made her feel like sighing for some strange reason.
Isabelle spotted her first. Ending her song in midline, she broke into a smile. “Did you come to see my dollhouse, Miss Caitlin?”
“Yes, I did.” She glanced apologetically at Nathan, who had looked away from his computer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your work.”
He pressed a couple of buttons to save and close his file. “I can finish this later.”
Feeling as though she were the intruder this time, she entered the office and knelt in front of Isabelle’s dollhouse. It really was an intriguing toy; constructed of heavy-duty plastic, it was hinged to fold into a carrying case when not in use. Each room was equipped with whimsically shaped plastic furnishings. A red plastic convertible held a cheerful-looking family of four—father, mother, brother and baby sister.
“This is really nice.” Caitlin picked up a pink plastic sofa to admire more closely. “I’m sure you’ve been having fun with it.”
Isabelle touched a chubby finger to each plastic figure. “This is Bob. He’s the dad. This is Susie. She’s the mom. The kids are Mike and Annie.”
“I like the names you’ve chosen.”
“They’re people in stories I like.”
“I see.” Caitlin replaced the couch and gave the little car a push. “It’s a very fine play set, Isabelle.”
“Thank you.” Isabelle made an adjustment to a yellow chair, the pride of home ownership glowing on her little face.
Nathan glanced at his watch. “It’s almost noon. I bet you’re getting hungry, poppet.”
Isabelle rubbed her tummy. “I am hungry.”
“So am I. How about it, Caitlin, want to make it a three-some for lunch?”
“Oh, I—”
Isabelle jumped up and caught Caitlin’s hand in hers, gazing entreatingly up at her. “Come have lunch with us, Miss Caitlin. Please.”
So unfair. There was no way she could resist the look in those big blue eyes. “Well, I suppose I could join you for a quick lunch.”
The little girl’s smile was ample reward for Caitlin capitulation.
Because it was nearby and offered an extensive children’s menu, they selected Jolly’s Deli for their lunch destination, taking Nathan’s car. A popular establishment close to the main shopping areas, Jolly’s was as crowded as Caitlin had expected, but she knew the service to be fast.
As she had also predicted, she knew quite a few of the other diners and Nathan was acquainted with even more of them. She was keenly aware of the attention focused their way as they stood in line to order, Isabelle standing between them holding their hands. Many locals knew who Isabelle was now, of course, and they expressed their interest with sidelong stares and behind-the-hand whispers.
She could only imagine what the gossips must be making of seeing her with Nathan and Isabelle again. Even before Isabelle’s arrival, Caitlin knew there had been idle speculation about her relationship with Nathan, which was understandable, she supposed. Both of them young, single and unattached, spending so much time together at work. Now…well, the grapevine would probably have them engaged by sundown.
Since there was nothing she could do about potential rumors, she decided to hold her head high and enjoy her lunch.
There were few awkward moments during the casual meal, mostly because Isabelle provided entertainment with stories about her preschool adventures. Caitlin listened attentively to the child, but she would hate to be tested later on anything Isabelle said.
Caitlin’s attention kept wandering to Nathan, who sat more quietly than usual at the other side of the table. She had the feeling that while he was outwardly enjoying the meal and the conversation, he was actually watching her, too.
It was inevitable, of course, with all that surreptitious watching, that their eyes would eventually meet. And hold. Though she was aware that Isabelle was still babbling, and she could still hear the chatter and clatter of the crowded restaurant around them, she couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the gleam in Nathan’s deep-blue eyes.
How strange that she could suddenly almost feel the pressure of his lips against her. She had been prone to relive The Kiss at odd moments, but this was the first time she had drifted into fantasy right out in public. Especially in front of Nathan. Not to mention Isabelle.
“Nate? Hey, Nate?”
Still looking into Caitlin’s eyes as though he could see the disturbing thoughts behind them, Nathan responded absently to Isabelle’s prodding. “What is it, poppet?”
“Isn’t that your mom?”
The innocent question made both Caitlin and Nathan start, their gazes breaking apart. Following the direction of Isabelle’s pointing finger, Caitlin spotted Lenore McCloud at the same time the other woman noticed them.
Carrying plates filled at the salad bar, Lenore and another woman were headed toward a table not far from the one where Caitlin sat with Nathan and Isabelle. Lenore’s steps faltered, her face going taut with pained recognition.
Caitlin had the unsettling sensation that the noisy restaurant suddenly went quiet around them, though she knew that was exaggeration. She also knew, however, that many pairs of eyes waited to see how Lenore would react to this awkward encounter.
They all should have known, of course, that Lenore was nothing if not socially conscious. Though her eyes had gone flat and opaque, she managed a cordial nod. “Nathan. Caitlin.”
Isabelle
took no offense at the slight. “Hi, Nate’s mom,” she said with her brightest Shirley Temple smile. “We’re having lunch.”
Her gaze darting quickly around them, Lenore cleared her throat and replied, “Yes, so I see. Enjoy your meal.” She gave Nathan a look of reproach before turning to her companion. “We’d better claim our table before someone else does, Maxine.”
Caitlin noted that Lenore chose a seat that placed her back toward their table. Glancing at Nathan, Caitlin saw the flash of pain in his eyes. He so obviously hated this distance between his mother and himself, but he was just as obviously at a loss as to how to bridge it.
Remembering the adamancy in Lenore’s voice when she’d insisted she could never accept Isabelle, Caitlin wasn’t sure there was any solution to the impasse.
They finished their lunches quickly. Isabelle seemed to be unaware that the mood had changed, but Caitlin was all too conscious of the difference in Nathan. He had been rather quiet before his mother’s appearance, but he was positively subdued now. She hated seeing him this way, but she could think of nothing that would cheer him up.
Fortunately, Isabelle was very good at that sort of thing. By the time they returned to the office, Nathan was smiling again, if only for his little sister’s sake.
Settling Isabelle with her dollhouse again, Nathan followed Caitlin into her office. “Do you have much more to do today?”
“Not much. Another couple of hours, maybe. You?”
“Maybe a half hour to finish that file I was working on before lunch. Just as well. I’m not sure Isabelle’s dollhouse is going to hold her attention much longer.”
“She really is a very well-behaved little girl. No pouting or tears, no tantrums, no whining.”
“Except for the tantrums, I’ve seen a little of all of the above from her, but not much.” His smile looked a bit weary around the edges. “She’s a normal three-year-old, Caitlin, but she is a good kid, on the whole.”
“No question about that.” She hesitated, then tentatively laid a hand on his arm. The muscles beneath his long-sleeved rugby shirt were rock hard with the tension she had sensed in him since they’d left the deli. “Are you okay?”
“Who, me?” He flashed a semblance of his usual cocky grin. “I’m always okay.”
Giving him a repressive frown, she said, “You know what I mean. I know the scene with your mother bothered you.”
His mouth quirked wryly at her choice of words. “My mother would never cause a scene. She was as calm, collected and polite as she would have been with any distant acquaintance—or even with a bitter enemy—in such a public venue.”
“I know that must have hurt you.”
“It breaks my heart,” he answered simply. “But I don’t know what else to do about it.”
“Would you like me to try to talk to her again?”
He covered her hand with his own. “Thanks, but I don’t think it would help. My mother is the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. Strike that. The second most stubborn woman. My sister still holds top prize.”
“I just wish there was something I could do to help.” Caitlin had discovered that she really hated seeing the empty look of pain in Nathan’s beautiful eyes.
Even as that thought occurred to her, she saw his eyes light with a soft gleam. His fingers tightened around hers. “I can think of a few things you could do to help me feel better.”
She sighed and started to move away. She should have known he wouldn’t be serious for long. Nathan’s typical response when things got too intense was to start wise-cracking and flirting.
As always, his flirting made her self-conscious. “I suppose we had better get back to—”
The rest of her words were smothered beneath his mouth.
She couldn’t believe he was kissing her right there in the office. With no warning, no provocation, no chance for her to resist. And she would have resisted, she assured herself even as she tilted her head slightly to accommodate his kiss, if only he had given her some forewarning of his intentions.
His arms went around her, pulling her closer. She rested her hands on his chest so she could push him away—in just a minute.
Hi tilted his head and deepened the kiss. Her fingers curled into his shirt, and she wasn’t pushing him away. Didn’t want to.
She parted her lips and kissed him back—and it had nothing to do with sympathy or wanting to soothe his pain or anything else but pure desire. She’d been wanting to kiss him again ever since the last time, damn it. And it was even better than she remembered.
Nathan was the one who finally raised his head.
For just a moment she would have sworn he was at a loss for words. Characteristically, he recovered almost immediately. “Have dinner with me tonight.”
Trying to pull her resolve together, she shook her head. “Isabelle—”
“Can stay with a sitter for a few hours. Mrs. T. has volunteered several times.”
Still shaking her head, she moved a couple of steps away from him, laying a hand on her desk as if to draw strength from its solid surface. “No. We have to stop this. Now.”
Nathan made a sound that closely resembled a growl. “I really should add you to that list of stubborn women. I’d say you run neck-and-neck with my mother and my sister.”
“I haven’t changed my mind about us,” she said, knowing she sounded as obstinate as he accused her of being. “I still think it would be a mistake for us to confuse friendship and natural attraction for something more.”
“I’m not at all confused,” he assured her easily. “I simply want a chance to spend some time with you. Alone.”
“Definitely not a good idea. It seems like every time we’re alone together lately, well…” She felt her cheeks warm before she finished lamely, “Things get out of hand.”
Nathan laughed. While she couldn’t help being relieved that he was smiling again, she didn’t like feeling that it was at her expense. “I rather like it when things get out of hand,” he said.
The old Nathan was definitely back—at least for now. Maybe she should be pleased with herself for finding a way to cheer him up, even if unintentionally. Instead, she tried to speak firmly and with unmistakable finality. “I am not getting involved with you, Nathan.”
He reached out to touch a fingertip to her lower lip, which was still warm and moist from kissing him. “Caitlin. You already are.”
Turning away from him so quickly she almost stumbled, she spoke more gruffly this time. “Go check on your sister. She really shouldn’t be left alone this long.”
“This issue between us is far from settled.”
She only sighed in response to his warning. “Just go away, Nathan. I have work to do.”
She was relieved when he turned and left the office, leaving her to settled into her desk chair and bury her face in her hands. She was not unaware that he had left her in the same despairing position he’d found her in earlier.
Sunday would have been Stuart McCloud’s sixtieth birthday. Nathan was painfully aware of the significance of the date from the time he woke that morning.
He couldn’t help feeling a bit nostalgic as he dragged himself into the laundry room to wash a load of Isabelle’s play clothes, then moved into the kitchen to start breakfast. Birthdays had always been a big deal in the McCloud household, with special breakfasts, parties and elaborate gifts. Stuart was the one who had insisted each birthday be celebrated. Simply surviving another year was an accomplishment in itself, he had said many times.
Stuart had fallen six months short of surviving his own sixtieth year.
Nathan gazed pensively out the window over the sink. It was a dark, gray morning. Looked as though it might start raining any minute. Isabelle was still sleeping. He had let her stay up a bit later than usual watching videos last night since he’d known she could sleep in today.
Though he hadn’t been a faithful churchgoer for the past several years, he supposed he should start taking Isabelle to Sunday school. Pro
blem was, the only church he had ever attended was the one in which his mother was an extremely active member. Maybe he’d better look into a few others. He wouldn’t want to ruin his mother’s longtime pleasure in her church.
The smell of scorching batter brought his attention back to what he was supposed to be doing. He flipped the pancakes quickly, frowning at the charred edges. Okay, so he would eat these.
He remembered lazy weekend mornings when he had been the one to sleep in. He would then read the paper while sipping coffee and munching cold pizza or whatever else he might find in the fridge. Maybe head out midafternoon with his golf clubs or a fishing rod, a cooler of beer and whatever buddy had been available at a moment’s notice. On other Sundays he’d had lunch with his mother, sometimes joined by his brother and sister.
If he had wanted to stay out until midnight on weekends—or all night—he’d been free to do so. If he’d been in the mood for a woman’s company, all he’d had to do was pick up the phone.
How his life had changed.
Because he was still in that strangely melancholy mood, and feeling just a little lonely, he covered the plate of pancakes to keep them warm and reached for the telephone.
His brother answered on the fourth ring, just when Nathan was beginning to think Gideon wasn’t in the mood to answer the phone today. He didn’t worry about waking him—Gideon was always up at sunrise. He said his brain was sharper in the mornings.
Which didn’t mean he was a cheerful riser. “What?” he barked into the phone.
“Sorry,” Nathan said. “Bad timing?”
“Rough scene,” his brother replied. “Been at it since five and I’ve only managed two paragraphs.”
Nathan knew better than to ask how close Gideon was to deadline. Saying the word deadline to Gideon McCloud was like saying kill in front of a trained attack dog. Always elicited a snarl, at the very least.
He settled for asking carefully, “Anything bothering you?”