by Dianne Drake
This one deep and abiding. The kind of kiss reserved for dates and special occasions. The one that set her heart on fire.
Even though it was mid-October the chill in the air turned into a fiery blaze and it was all she could do to keep from fanning herself. But that would be too much of a giveaway. Too obvious a reaction to what should have been a simple kiss. So, instead she buzzed herself in and turned back to face him. “Oh, and, Simon, thanks for the lovely evening. I really did enjoy the time out with you.” And the kisses. So very much the kisses.
“Glad you did,” he said, backing away. One step down and he turned and sprinted to the sidewalk. “See you tomorrow...maybe.”
She waited until he was out of sight before she stepped in and, once she’d greeted the concierge, she went on upstairs, which was where her mother practically pounced on her.
“He’s quite a good looker,” Mrs. Carson said.
“Were you looking out the window, Mom?” Del asked.
“Maybe for a minute. With your binoculars.”
Del shook her head. “He’s a friend. That’s all. A friend.” Even though tonight he felt like more—so much more. And that second kiss was certainly for more than friends.
“He’s a colleague,” she said, feeling the blush rise once again in her cheeks. “That’s all.” Except colleagues didn’t kiss colleagues the way he’d kissed her, or the way she’d kissed him back. Especially the way she’d kissed him back!
CHAPTER NINE
SHE WAS QUIET around Simon for the next couple of days. In fact she avoided him—something that wasn’t lost on him. When they did make contact it was about work and that was all. Nothing personal, no references to two nights before, definitely no small talk. But what had he expected from Del, anyway? She was the original no-contact girl, and he wasn’t acting much differently himself. No contact, nothing personal. And there was nothing not personal about their kiss on her front step. In fact, as kisses went, it was right up there with the best he’d ever had. Which wasn’t good at all as he didn’t want the relationship to blossom. Of course, he was hanging on to the hope that she didn’t want it, either. So that made it two against the odds, which he liked a lot. Except he was afraid that one more kiss and he’d fall hard, since he was already halfway down.
So the days went on and he alternately regretted and was glad for that moment of intimate contact because it showed him that he could move on. He was no longer so emotionally strung out from his previous marriage, which was a good thing. But the bad thing was the distance that kiss had put between Del and him and he regretted that enormously as he had to work with her, and he also enjoyed her friendship. But he was finding that he wanted more, and the more he resisted it, the more he wanted it and couldn’t stop thinking about it. That wasn’t to say he wanted some convoluted, drawn-out high-tension relationship that would lead him back to where he didn’t want to go. But he liked the conversation, liked the companionship and most of all liked it with Del. Though, as it stood, that moment was done. They’d given in to the weakness and look where it had got them.
Simon sighed as he entered Exam Four to take a look at a little boy who had a bad cough and a runny nose. Cute kid with curly red hair and green eyes, and a look that told Simon he was in agony. “So, what can I do for you today?” he asked the boy, as he acknowledged the boy’s mother.
“Can you make me better?” Billy asked. “I don’t feel so good.”
“And where do you feel bad?”
He pointed to his head then to his throat.
“How long you been feeling bad, Billy?” he asked the boy, who was about eight. He liked to make direct contact with his patients when he could as he found that they had great insight into their own ailments—insight outside what a parent might report.
“Since day before yesterday.”
“So which came first? The runny nose or the sore throat?”
The child shrugged. “Runny nose, I think.”
Now Simon deferred to the mother. “Is that right?”
“He was running a slight fever day before yesterday, and the sore throat came on last night.”
Simon smiled. “Thank you for getting him here so quickly. You’d be amazed how long it takes some parents to react when their child is sick.”
And so the conversation and exam went for the next fifteen minutes until Simon diagnosed Billy with a mild head cold, and prescribed something for the stuffiness as well as the sore throat. Then the exam was over. Just like that he was alone in the exam room thinking about Del again. So much for the power of a good distraction, he thought as he headed back to the hub to hand-deliver the applicable notes and prescriptions to the checkout clerk. In that brief lull he saw Del dash down the hall, white coat tails flying, and it all came back to him. The conflict, the resolve, everything.
Face it. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do about Del yet and, so far, he hadn’t given any thought to the fact that this might be the end of something that had never really got started. So he liked Del! More than liked her, cared for her! But as what? A friend, a possible lover? And what was the big deal anyway? They were two mature adults who knew exactly what they wanted. What was stopping them from taking their relationship to another level and evening it out there rather than leave it festering where it was?
Fear, that was what. They’d both spoken their minds, made their opinions, fears and vulnerabilities perfectly clear, and that was that. But why couldn’t they work through those issues together? Or could they? It seemed a logical thing to do, having some help to get through. But Del was afraid of that help and, to be honest, so was he. Because there was no telling where it would go. Vulnerability was a strange thing. It caused people to do things they didn’t want; caused them to break vows and promises and ignore the real heart. So maybe Del was correct in ignoring this whole thing.
But, damn it! Why did he want to pursue it anyway?
* * *
It wasn’t the fact that it was awkward so much as that she was embarrassed by the whole episode. She’d kissed him. Started it, and welcomed the second and third kisses. Then she’d avoided him ever since because she didn’t know where to go from there. They’d established some kind of chemistry, obviously. But it was nothing she wanted to admit. She wasn’t ready. She had Charlie to think about. And a job. No time to be in a committed relationship. The list was long and she’d gone over and over it all weekend and hauled it out and went over it again each and every time she saw him. He had that irresistible charm she needed to keep away from or else next time the third kiss would lead to more, and she couldn’t handle that. Didn’t want to handle it. All she wanted in her life right now was her son. So it was time to back all the way away and simply be professional colleagues.
Except she remembered those kisses; they were on her mind all the time. So was the next thing and the thing that could come after that if she allowed it. Which she wouldn’t. Of course. The kisses were it and no further. It was fixed in her mind like etched glass.
“Do you think talking about it would help us?” he finally asked her.
“Talk about what?”
“What we were leading up to.”
She frowned. “We weren’t leading up to anything. They were just simple kisses, that’s all.”
“But what they evoked wasn’t so simple, was it? We’ve been avoiding each other like the plague for the past two days and I know it has everything to do with that last kiss.”
“It was a mistake.”
“You weren’t acting that way Friday night.”
“I was out of character for myself.”
“Or maybe that was in character and now you’re out of character,” he returned. As they walked along the hall, each on his or her way to visit a patient, there was no way she could get away from him for the next thirty seconds, so he took hold of her arm
, an intimate gesture in and of itself, and led her to Exam Three, to treat a rash. “You enjoyed the evening, Del, and there’s no denying that.”
“I’m not denying it,” she said, looking around to make sure no one else could hear their private conversation. Luckily, that end of the hall was empty of employees, and all the patients back there were in their rooms and would have to have ears pressed to the door to hear them. “It was a nice evening and it was nice to get out and have some adult company.”
“We could do it again.”
“No,” she snapped. “We can’t. We both know where this thing could go if we let it, and neither of us want it.”
“That’s not what your lips were saying.”
“Lying lips.”
Simon chuckled. “Beautiful, kissable lips.”
“And that’s the problem. I don’t want to be kissed. It can lead to, well...other things. And I don’t want that in my life right now. I’m doing good to manage everything I’ve already got without adding anything more.”
“Would you even admit it if you wanted more?”
“Have you changed your mind, Simon? Have you suddenly decided that it’s time to go out on the hunt again?”
“Not the hunt so much as I’ve decided it’s time to move on.”
She laid her hand on the door handle. “Well, I’m happy right where I am. And that’s the difference between us. You can change your mind easily enough, but I can’t. I’m on the course I want to be on.”
“And you’ve never heard of adjusting the course?”
“Not in my life. Not since Charlie.”
“Too bad, because I think we could have something.” He bent low and stole a quick kiss, then left her standing all flushed and confused at her patient’s door. It took her a few seconds to regroup before she went inside and was greeted by a mild case of the chicken pox. “Hello, Miranda,” she said as she saw the little girl scratching away at the pustules on her arms. “I think I’ve got a cream that will help relieve the itching.”
Too bad she didn’t have a cream to relieve her of her growing feelings for Simon.
* * *
“Hello, dear,” Del’s mother said, greeting her at the door when she got home. “Your father’s out for a stroll with Charlie. Oh, and those came for you a little while ago.” Gloria pointed to the dozen long-stemmed red roses all bedded together in a spray of white baby’s breath. “I don’t know who he is—maybe the man on your doorstep the other night—but he has good taste.”
“He’s one of the doctors at the clinic. Just a colleague.”
“Colleagues don’t send colleagues red roses if there’s not something more attached to it.”
“This colleague wants to take our friendship to the next level.”
“Well,” said her mother. “It’s about time. Is he the one you went out with Friday night?”
“That was just a dinner among friends. That’s all.” OK, so it was a bit of a lie. But there was no reason to let her mother in on something that wasn’t meant to be. She’d only get her hopes up that her stubborn daughter was giving in, which wasn’t the case.
“And these are red roses among friends, too? Is he why you’ve been so grumpy these past couple of days? Honestly, that’s why your father took Charlie for a walk over to the park. We’re both aware of how grumpy you are when you come home from work, and he didn’t want to deal with it this evening.”
“OK,” Del said, sighing. “I thought I’d found the perfect companion—someone who didn’t want to get involved as much as I don’t want to get involved. But things have changed. Now he...well. Let’s just say that he wants to be the whole package when I’m still not in the mood to unwrap it.”
“Because of Eric?”
“Because of Charlie and me. We have a good life.”
“That could be so much better if you opened yourself up to letting someone in.”
“That’s your marriage, and maybe someday I’ll find something like what you and Daddy have. But not now.”
“And you’re not the slightest bit interested in Dr. Red Roses?” her mother asked.
“I’m not saying I’m not interested. It’s just that Simon wants to take things faster than I’m ready for.”
“He’s a man who knows what he wants.”
“He wants me to fill a void left by his ex-wife and stepdaughter.”
Gloria Carson took a step backward. “You didn’t even read the card that came with the flowers.” She grabbed it and handed it over to Del.
Del hesitated before she took it from her mother’s hand. Suppose it spelled out some kind of term of endearment, or said something she didn’t want it to.
“You’re being silly, Del,” her mother accused. “It’s just a simple card. A small one. How many words could he have squeezed on it?”
“It’s not how many, Mom. It’s what they might say.”
Her mother grabbed the card back and sat it down next to the flowers. “You’re too stubborn for your own good. You know that?”
“It’s just that I’m trying to do what’s best for Charlie and me, and I don’t think squeezing in a relationship is what either of us needs right now.”
“Don’t go using my grandson as your excuse. At his age he doesn’t care one way or another. If there’s something about this Simon that doesn’t interest you, that’s fine. There’ll be another one come along. But you don’t need any kind of excuse. If you want to, then do it. If you don’t want to, then don’t do it. But quit trying to fool yourself into believing that your son needs only you because he’s at a perfect age to welcome others into his life. In fact, he’s open to it much more than you are. So I’m not saying it has to be this Simon you work with, but at least keep yourself a little more open to the possibility that there’s someone out there for you.”
“It could be Simon,” she heard herself admit, then wanted to kick herself for saying the words out loud.
Gloria arched her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. She was a striking lady—short blond hair, petite figure, eyes that told the whole story. “When I met your father I knew right away. No denying it for me as he was such a good catch I didn’t want him single out there in the world for fear someone else would snap him up. But that’s just me. I’ve always known what I wanted and gone out and got it.”
“I know what I want,” Del defended, as her gaze went to the flowers and the note sitting next to the vase.
“Doesn’t sound like it to me. In fact, you sound a little lost.”
“I’m not lost.” Words spoken tentatively. “It’s just that I’m not...”
“Found.” Gloria crossed over and hugged her daughter. “Speaking of which, I’m going across the street to the park to find your father and finish off the walk with him. You’re welcome to come along, or you can stay here and relax. And think of more excuses why you don’t want to go after the one who could be the one.” She patted her daughter on the cheek, then grabbed a light jacket and headed to the door. “And don’t worry about dinner. Your father and Charlie and I will find something on our walk.”
“Tell Daddy to make sure Charlie is warm enough.”
“Your father doesn’t need to be told how to take care of a child. The one he raised turned out just fine. Except for that little glitch...”
Del laughed. “I don’t have a glitch.”
“Then it’s a blind spot. Call it what you want.”
Del shook her head, and sighed impatiently. “How long will you be gone?”
“Long enough,” her mother said, laughing. “And not a moment longer than that.” With that she walked out the door, leaving Del alone in her condo. It was strange being there all by herself. She was used to having Charlie around, to talk to, to fuss over. “So it’s just me,” she said aloud, feeling silly for talking to the walls.
>
She looked at the card next to the roses, and it was getting larger and larger. Or maybe it was that her attention was becoming more and more fixed on it. Whatever the case, she picked it up, looked at it, then put it back down. Then picked it up again, and held it up to the light as if something were going to be revealed in the overhead studio lamp suspended from her ceiling. Talk about feeling silly. She was certainly going to teach Charlie to be more direct than she was.
“Charlie...” she murmured, as she picked up the envelope yet again and finally looked at the note Simon had enclosed. It simply read thank you. But that made her wonder what he was thanking her for. Was it dinner, or the kisses at the door? Was it for something on the job, or for listening to his plight with Amy? In fact, the card wasn’t even signed so the flowers could have been from anyone, which left her feeling a little disappointed. No, she didn’t want more sentiment, but she did want to know why he was thanking her. And if the flowers were, indeed, from Simon.
On impulse, she picked up her cell phone and called his number.
“Simon Michaels,” he came on, sounding as if he was in a rush.
She found it strange he didn’t identify her with the phone-number-recognition feature on his own phone but maybe he was in too much of a hurry to look at it. “It’s me,” she said, in a subdued voice.
“As in Del?” he asked.
She could hear the teasing tone in his voice. “As in Del.”
“And what can I do for you this lovely evening, Del?”
Now he was toying with her, which caused her to relax a little.
“Were you the one who had the flowers delivered?”
“Flowers, you say?”
“Flowers, I said. Red roses, white baby’s breath. Ring any bells?”
“Oh, those flowers. I seem to recall picking them out this afternoon on my lunch hour.”
“Why, Simon?”
“I thought they were pretty.”
“They’re beautiful. But you’re evading my question. Why did you send them?”