Tempted by Her Single Dad Boss

by Annie O'Neil

  “...a rapport.”

  A rapport.

  The description pleased him. Alex had thought the constant back and forth between him and Maggie might have the potential to come across to patients as acrimonious, but...a rapport. He could live with that.

  He thought of Maggie heading over to his house with his son. About as vivid a reminder a man could have that having her in his home meant developing both a rapport and a relationship. He slammed the mental door shut on that little nugget. Rapport was good for now. Relationship? Relationships were complicated and the last thing he needed was complicated.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “BUT, DAD, I promised Maggie we’d go and she’s already been here four whole days!”

  No one needed to tell Alex how long Maggie Green had been on the island. Their orderly, calm days had been upended by her daily delight in uncovering nooks and crannies of Maple Island he himself hadn’t yet discovered.

  And the clinic? The clinic had never seen such hurricane-force energy in one single human.

  Her presence was being felt everywhere. Including right down in the core of his emotional epicenter. A very reluctant part of him was beginning to wonder if the missing element in his life was living in his spare room. And he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about it.

  More time with Maggie meant yet more time acting like he barely noticed she was there. Acting wasn’t his forte.

  Jake’s eyebrows were scrunched together in an increasingly familiar expression. This anxious, about-to-go-silent-for-hours-on-end face was usually caused by Alex’s failure to understand the import of one thing or another. Or, as was often the case, simply not being there.

  This time it was the request for his presence on a bespoke “snacking tour” of downtown Maple Island. Such as it was.

  There was Main Street. Half of the stores were shut for “the season”—or lack thereof—and the harbor also had a smattering of stores and eateries, which she’d already seen.

  “I’m not sure Maggie’s interested in much beyond the stables. And her patients, of course.”

  At least, that was what he kept telling himself in order to stave off the idea that she might be trying to avoid him every bit as much as he’d been trying to avoid her. He even moved like one of Jake’s toys. Stilted and awkward.

  “I told her we’d go to Brady’s.”

  “What for?”

  “Duh. She’s on the menu?” Jake shook his head, clearly astonished his father was so out of the loop.

  “What? After four days?”

  Jake nodded as if everyone on the island knew but her. “The Free Spirit Scramble.” He grinned. “Maggie hasn’t tried it yet so I promised her we would go.”

  I like it hot and spicy.

  Unbelievable. She was already on the menu? He’d been here almost three years and—He tried to tamp down his indignation. Chances were high no one was craving a “Dr. Protocol” to start their day. Or to finish it, for that matter.

  Tendrils of the man he used to be began reaching out and tickling his heart. He’d been a more carefree spirit once too. Sure, his upbringing had been tough, full of responsibilities a little boy shouldn’t have to endure, but once he’d joined the military, he’d truly felt as if the world had been his oyster. He had been a man who could catch a woman’s eye and hold it. A man who had married young, had had a son with the girl he’d thought he’d be with forever, only to lose her when he’d least expected it.

  All the color had drained from his life on that day. And now he was just a bland scrambled eggs and a piece of toast without jam, rule-abiding, structure-loving know-it-all, who didn’t know much of anything except for how to work and keep his son out of harm’s way.

  Maggie, who should’ve known better, was the polar opposite. She seemed intent on putting not only herself but everyone else she encountered right at the coalface. She’d nearly lost her life and seemed completely dedicated to squeezing every ounce of joy and color she could out of the rest of it.

  Maybe...just maybe...it was time to take a leaf out of Maggie’s book.

  “Don’t worry, Dad. We all know you work hard.” Jake patted Alex’s arm as though he were the father consoling the son for having tried hard but not quite making it up to the mark.

  How could a seven-year-old boy make him feel like such a fuddy-duddy? Or was it the flame-haired, leggy, physiotherapist jogging toward them from the far end of the breezeway? And how did she make a jog seem like a slow-motion film sequence? All that hair flowing out behind her, creamy skin catching a hit of pink on her cheeks, lips parted just so....

  “Da-a-a-a-d?” His son drew the word out into about fifteen syllables, each of them conveying a deepening level of frustration with his father.

  Alex yanked his eyes away from Maggie and looked at his son. He could go for an all-day breakfast. It wasn’t like it was a date or anything. He was a military man, for heaven’s sake. He’d faced tougher enemies than a woman with a positive attitude and a body that—

  A body that reminded him just how red-blooded a male he was.

  He curtly reminded himself that Maggie was staff. An incredibly talented physiotherapist who brought a smile to the lips of just about everyone she met.

  He blew out a short, sharp breath. He could do this. Absolutely. Even if she was unwittingly unearthing the fun guy buried somewhere underneath all the rules and regulations he’d taken to spouting whenever she was anywhere near him.

  She was near them now. Her body still moving in that beautifully cadenced rhythm of hers. Her waist blooming out of the gentle curves of her hips, the arc and swoop of her breasts filling out the staff sweatshirt in way that made it look sexy. Sexy staff had been the last thing on his mind when he and Cody had bulk-ordered the clothes. Terrific. Yet another sensuality spanner Maggie had thrown into his perfectly ordered existence.

  How did she run in slow motion?

  “Da-a-a-d!”

  “What’s up, little man?” Maggie slowed to a stop in front of them, skin lightly glowing from the exertion. She gave Jake a quick high five before turning her bright smile on Alex. “So! Is it still all right to go into town? Not got any last-minute patients to see to?” The brightness in her eyes clouded ever so briefly as a hit of insecurity passed through them then disappeared as she turned her full-wattage grin toward Jake.

  The muscles in Alex’s jaw tensed as he ground his back teeth together. She’d obviously seen through his clever ploy to flee the house each night after they’d eaten supper together.

  She’d obviously misconstrued his abrupt departures as disinterest rather than a man trying to avoid an increasingly unfettered attraction to a work colleague.

  “Hey, Jakey? Do we think downtown Maple Island is ready to handle a bit of fun?” She raised her arms up as if she was at an all-night rave and knocked out a few gyrations that threw sparks straight into his erogenous zones.

  For goodness’ sake! They were with his son, not wandering round Boston’s party zone!

  Jake started dancing, too.

  “Brady’s does have a terrific soup and sandwich deal, which would be good for supper,” Alex offered.

  Jake turned to his father, appalled. “We’re going to town to eat Maggie’s all-day breakfast, Dad!”

  “There’s no rule that says you have to,” Maggie said quietly, avoiding eye contact as she spoke.

  That fierce protectiveness rose in him again. The one that not only couldn’t bear the idea that he made Maggie feel uncomfortable, but the idea that someone else had frightened or hurt her in any way.

  “No. You’re right. There aren’t.” He took his car keys from his pocket and swung them in front of Jake and Maggie. “But sometimes rules—if they are to exist—are meant to be broken. Last one to the car is a rotten egg!”

  He turned and took off running, a smile near enough splitting his face in
two as Jake and Maggie stayed stationary, staring at him as if he’d just told them he was going to take up pole dancing.

  * * *

  “So. What do you think?” Fiona and Tom Brady had finally given up trying to casually stop by the booth Maggie, Alex and Jake were in and had plonked themselves down to get the lowdown.

  “I think it’s great.” Maggie gave the pair a round of applause and nodded at Alex and Jake to do the same. Jake indulged her. Alex took a gulp of his coffee and lifted his eyebrows appreciatively.

  It was hardly an over-the-top show of approval but...if she wasn’t mistaken he was genuinely trying to be more relaxed around her. Make an effort. It made a nice change from the stiff formality, that was for sure. Jake seemed to bask in the glow of his father’s goofier side. If you could call putting hot sauce on your hash browns in the shape of a smiley face goofy.

  “Any tweaks? Any little changes?”

  Maggie stared at her empty plate for a moment. “I like my hash browns extra crispy on the outside and all gooey hot inside.” Her eyes traveled to Alex. Had she just described how she pictured him? She knew there was a fierce and loving heart beating inside that solid chest of his and yet he was certainly...crispy on the outside. She wondered whether or not his wife’s death had taken away the gooey and hot inside.

  “Well, that’s all very achievable.” Fiona pushed herself up and out of the booth and beckoned to her husband to join her. “Jakey? We’re just about to make the night’s last batch of crullers. Want to join us in the kitchen and then take a box home for the morning? We’ll wrap him up in a double layer of aprons and a chef’s jacket to make sure he’s protected.”

  That last bit was obviously for Alex. His reputation for adhering to all codes of health and safety had clearly spread beyond the clinic’s walls.

  Jake’s eyes went bright and he looked at his father expectantly. Maggie wished they’d invited her, too. What on earth was she going to talk with Alex about?

  Patients.

  Work was always good with him. Personal stuff? Not so much. Alex turned to her as if she had a say in the matter. “Sounds fun!”

  For a split second it was as if they were a family. Her insides ached at how good it felt. Then ached again, knowing it was just a mirage. A blip of perfection in an otherwise imperfect world.

  Alex made a hmm-haw noise, then caved. With conditions. Of course.

  “Make sure you listen to everything Mr. and Mrs. Brady tell you. And don’t eat all of the crullers before we get to the car!”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  Alex ruffled his son’s sandy blond hair and watched him follow the Bradys into the kitchen, that serious little face of his a mirror image of his father’s.

  The depth of love Maggie could see in Alex’s eyes took her breath away. She ached to be near him. Touch him. Be a part of the love he clearly felt for his son. A big enough bombshell to make her jaw drop.

  When he turned to look at her his eyebrows arched.

  “What?” He swept a long-fingered hand across his face. “I don’t have any food on my face, do I?”

  He didn’t. But he wasn’t to know that. So she reached out and swept away a couple of invisible crumbs.

  The connection was so strong when their eyes met she forgot to breathe. When she dropped her hand from the soft stubble lining his cheek, he caught her hand in his.

  “What are we doing, Maggie?”

  Oh, crikey. This hadn’t been what she’d had in mind. Had it? Or had she wanted this? Wanted to push at the invisible tension between them until it burst? But to what end? Bring it to a halt or give it room to breathe and grow?

  “Tell me,” she said.

  “What?” His eyebrows took a swan dive down toward the center of his forehead.

  “About your wife.”

  She felt just as surprised as Alex looked. And even more surprisingly, he kept her hand in his and began to speak.

  “Amy and I met in the military. First day of boot camp.” The shadow of a smile played upon his lips at the memory and her heart leapt into her throat. She pressed her lips together and nodded. From the rasp in his voice as he carried on speaking, he hadn’t told this story much. And certainly not to a woman with whom there was...whatever it was that was going on between them.

  A flirtation?

  The beginnings of a romance?

  One kiss didn’t make it love, but...she was not immune to this guy. Not by a long shot.

  If only she felt brave enough. Secure enough. She felt more sparks of attraction every time she looked at Alex, a bonfire’s worth of heat, but...she wasn’t there yet. Maybe she wouldn’t ever be. But either way she wanted to be there for him in this way. Listening. Understanding. Allowing him to tell his story. To heal.

  Maybe you could heal, too, if you told him what happened to you.

  She forced herself to focus on Alex’s beautiful green eyes as he lightly touched on a childhood that had been less than perfect, hence the early departure for the military. Arriving at boot camp and just hours later meeting his future wife. She’d been cheering on all the men as they’d lined up at the barber’s for a buzz cut. He spoke of his wife’s lonely childhood. Their shared love of medicine. Hers for combat. His for...well, after combat. “Maybe that’s why we made such a good team.” He let go of Maggie’s hand and sat back in the booth, shredding up a paper napkin as he spoke. “She liked running into the firing line and I liked pulling her out of it.”

  “Her very own knight in shining armor,” Maggie whispered, then winced at Alex’s pained expression.

  “Something like that.”

  “Not that it sounded like she needed one,” she quickly recovered. She hadn’t wanted a knight when she’d been old enough to start thinking about love. Marriage. She’d wanted someone to ride alongside. To complement her rather than compensate for her.

  Neither could she imagine Alex with anyone simpering or weak. He had gone for a woman he’d met in the army. His wife would have seen her ability to face fire as courage rather than foolhardiness.

  That she understood.

  She wondered if Alex did. Particularly when the consequences had been so extreme.

  “She did need me,” Alex ground out. “Just the one time. The only time that mattered. And I wasn’t there.”

  The bitterness swirled up into his throat as he spoke. He blamed himself. Of course he did. As much as he would’ve loved to squarely put the blame on Amy, rail against her inability to follow orders. She would be alive and well today if he’d been out there with her to pull her out of harm’s way.

  “What exactly happened?” Maggie’s expression indicated he didn’t have to tell her, but if he wanted to, she was there to listen. And for once he wanted to explain. Maybe she could help him understand whether he’d spent all these years angry with Amy or angry with himself.

  He looked down at his hands and talked Maggie through the scenario. “She’d been working in one of the medical tents on the outskirts of a remote village in Afghanistan. One that had endured a lot of street combat and the residents had been the true victims. The medical tent was alerted to an incoming rocket-launched missile and, against orders, she stayed instead of evacuating.”

  “Why?”

  “There were patients there who couldn’t walk. She knew there wasn’t time to move them all...” His guts twisted tightly at the memory. She’d given her life so that her patients hadn’t died alone. Hadn’t been abandoned.

  “What an extraordinarily brave and generous thing to do.” Maggie’s hands flew to cover her mouth, but her eyes swam with unspilt tears. Tears of compassion.

  He was just about to snap back that it wasn’t very brave if you thought of the husband and child she’d left behind when it struck him. All these years he’d told himself Amy had chosen the patients over a life with him and Jake. That they hadn’t been enoug
h for her.

  Sitting here, voicing his version of events to Maggie, he realized that’s what it had been all along. A version. A crutch. A way for him to muddle through those first horrific weeks and months of loss, using anger as a fuel because it had seemed to be the only thing that had got him up and charged and able to proactively create the world for his son that he’d always wanted for him. The very same life he might be suffocating Jake with now. Life was full of risks. Even here on Maple Island. He was sure Old Salty could bend the ear of just about anyone who would listen until the cows came home about the perils of life in the clinic. The clinic!

  He laughed.

  “It’s not funny!” Maggie looked appalled.

  “No. No, it’s not. I was just—” He felt his heart fill with gratitude that Maggie had come into his life. Made him look at things from another angle. Brought out his ability to laugh at life. At himself.

  “I was just thinking about my reputation.”

  “What reputation? As a word-class rehab doctor?”

  “More like as a world-class safety freak.”

  Maggie twisted her lips up into a tight dusty rose and then released them with a grin. “I wouldn’t go so far as to call you a freak,” she teased, before her expression sobered. “You know, maybe that’s why Amy did what she did.”

  “What? Get herself killed?” He’d heard the bite in his voice. Maggie had too. He took a long draft of iced water as they let the moment pass.

  “No.” Maggie’s voice was soft. “Risk her own life for someone else’s. You said she was passionate about her duty as a soldier, didn’t you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Well...maybe she was doing what she thought you would. Protecting the people in her care.”

  And, just like that, all the anger and rage he’d felt about the injustice of his wife’s early death dissipated.

  She was absolutely right. He’d fight anyone and anything to protect the innocent.

  Maybe his rage had been fueled by his own childhood. It wasn’t as if he and Amy hadn’t known the risks when they’d joined the military.