The memories were still so real when she summoned them up. “I expected him to break it down, but he didn’t,” she went on. “He shouted at us, and then left. When my mom examined me, she saw I had hit the leg of the table when I’d fallen. I had a cut across my temple that needed stitches. My ear was hurting and I couldn’t hear on the right side. She dragged a suitcase from under the bed, packed as many of my things and hers as she could shove into it, took money she’d been hiding away from a jar under a floorboard and hurried me outside. We ran a couple of blocks until she flagged down a taxi to take us to the hospital. The doctors treated me and sent us to a shelter. A week later we were on a bus to Oklahoma and a new life.”
Grady’s expression was filled with so much compassion, Francesca could hardly stand it. She expected the usual questions like, Did you ever see your father again? How difficult was it starting over? How did your mother handle it?
Instead, he asked, “How long was it until you stopped being afraid?”
Maybe he did understand. “I was in my early twenties. I had taken two self-defense courses in college. That helped. In my late twenties I decided to find out if my dad was still in Salinas. I learned he had died two years before and knowing that wiped out most of the fear.”
But she knew there was still a residue. Sometimes it kept her from taking risks.
Grady’s voice was gentle. “I’m sorry for what you went through. You’re right, it’s hard for me to imagine it. I guess anyone who hasn’t gone through it can’t truly understand it.” They sat in silence together, his hand still covering hers. “So has it been hard for you to have serious relationships because of all of this?”
She knew what he was leading up to—and she might as well get this over with all at one time. “I know it might sound crazy, but for a long time I didn’t even realize my background was the reason I didn’t want to date. I made the decision to become a doctor when I was in high school. I was all about getting good grades, winning scholarships, putting all my energy into my career so that I could make my mom’s life better, too. Then in med school I hardly had time to breathe, let alone get involved with a man. But I had that mentor I spoke of—Joshua—who was so kind. He was the first person I told about my childhood. When I did, he warned me not to be too careful because that could lead to mistakes, too. I didn’t know what he meant then, but I found out.”
“With this Darren you were involved with?”
“Yes. I was careful. As I said, I met him at a medical conference. Maybe because I was on my home turf, maybe because I was missing my mother—she’d died the year before and I felt a little lost without that connection—when he asked me to show him around the city on a break, I agreed. We’d had several professional conversations by that point and I liked him. He was charming…without coming on strong. He said he didn’t drink. I couldn’t find any similarity to my father.”
Grady’s intelligent blue eyes sparked and he made the connections. “But he was like your father in some way?”
“I didn’t see it at first. We had lengthy phone calls long-distance for a few months. He told me about the Family Tree Health Center opening in Lubbock and said the hospital where he worked was looking for a neonatologist and offices were available at Family Tree. It would be a risk for me to start a new practice somewhere I’d never been, so I came down to visit for a few days and he showed me around. Sure there was some arrogance about him, but I’ve found that’s often the case with doctors, so it wasn’t surprising. There was…an attraction.” Though nothing like she felt with Grady! But she wasn’t about to tell him that right now. Everything was too raw and vulnerable for her to be even more vulnerable with him.
“So you packed your bags and moved here?”
“I did. I became friends with Tessa almost right away. We consulted on a case, had lunch and I…connected with her. Thank goodness I did. As soon as I moved in with Darren, he began becoming more possessive. When I wasn’t working, he wanted to know where I was every minute. He didn’t give me Tessa’s phone messages if she called the condo. I started having nightmares again, nightmares like I hadn’t had in years.”
“Nightmares about being locked in a closet?”
“Yes. Then I realized why. I was starting to feel trapped, as trapped as I’d felt as a little girl. With our work, Darren and I didn’t have a lot of time together. We snatched dinners when we could and managed to get away one weekend. But when I returned, I had a new little patient who was hanging on by a thread. I was at the hospital day and night for a week. Darren understood his own dedication, but sometimes I don’t think he understood or believed in mine. Whenever I mentioned I was interested in learning about neonatal units in other hospitals—which could involve traveling—he shut down the conversation completely.”
She saw Grady’s frown, but he didn’t interrupt her. Now she just wanted to finish. “One morning, Darren told me he wanted to go to dinner with me that night and he’d made reservations. I explained I’d already made plans with Tessa. His reaction was over the top. He got angry, took me by the shoulders and shook me, telling me I was having dinner with him. I was so shocked, I couldn’t say a word. Then he left, slamming the door behind him. As soon as his car sped out of the driveway, I packed my bags and moved in with Tessa. I swore off ever getting involved in a relationship again. I turned my back on dating and poured everything I had into my little patients.”
After a long pause, Grady said gruffly, “But then you went to an open house.”
Yes, she had. When she’d met Grady, she’d felt giddy and excited, forgetting everything that had gone before. “I really don’t know what happened that night, Grady. My life was in gear again. I was happy…busy. I was living with two good friends and had everything I needed. I wasn’t looking for—”
“For a roll on a denim couch? No, neither was I.”
“Then…why me?”
“Have you ever looked at yourself in a mirror?” he asked wryly.
She felt heat suffuse her cheeks. “I’m sure there are lots of pretty women around here.”
“You were more than pretty. You were smart. You didn’t try to make me notice you. We just started talking. Every time we ran into each other that evening, we talked some more. You were easy to understand. You knew how to listen. You didn’t seem to like that crowd any more than I did. But I never expected what happened in my office to happen, either. That wasn’t my motivation for asking you to go there. I mean, sure, I was thinking maybe I’d like to take you to dinner sometime. But whatever flared up between us caught us both by surprise. It was too hot to escape.”
Just sitting here like this with Grady, she could feel the heat again. She could feel the buzz of electric attraction every time she looked at him, every time he touched her, every time they exchanged a word.
Now when he leaned closer to her, their chemistry together tempted her, enticed her, coaxed her to believe this man was different from all the others. His lips on hers were gentle until the heat took over once again. It consumed them both.
Grady’s mouth was so sensually teasing. His arm was strong and muscled as it circled her. What was it about him that made her want to jump out of her own skin into his?
She hardly noticed when his hand slipped beneath the hem of her top. But she definitely noticed when she felt his callused fingers on her side. With a fleeting thought, she was so glad she wasn’t wearing a bra so there was no impediment when his hand moved higher, when he cupped her breast and his thumb circled her nipple. She moaned and pressed into him, needing more, yet at the same time, she wanted to give more.
Grady’s hand on her breast urged her to reach for his shirt and pull its fabric from his jeans. The growl in his throat when she touched bare skin led her to fumble with his belt buckle. In no time she had it open along with his fly. Sliding her hand inside his briefs, she caressed him until he broke their kiss and held her face between his palms.
“Frannie!” His voice was deep and husky. “Do you know wh
at you’re doing?”
“The same thing you’re doing,” she returned, the sensual haze between them lifting a bit, though their breathing was still short and shallow.
“I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
Were her defenses down because of what she’d told him? Had his kiss been full of pity and compassion and she’d thought it had been more? How could she have just tumbled into this with him again?
She slid her hand away from the intimate contact. She let her defenses once again weave their fingers around her heart. Physically, as well as emotionally, she withdrew from him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he protested.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re sorry you told me anything.”
Maybe she was. Because now she felt more vulnerable than she ever had before. Sometimes secrets were terrific insulation against the risk of loving and the pain when everything fell apart.
When she leaned away from him, his hands dropped from her face. She straightened her sweatshirt, took a deep breath and didn’t look at him again until he asked, “You are sorry, aren’t you?”
She wasn’t getting into a revealing conversation again. Just because Grady was a good listener, just because there were sparks between them, didn’t mean he really cared about her. He cared about his child, but that wasn’t the same thing at all.
“Maybe I should go home now. Gina’s picking me up tomorrow morning at seven-thirty.”
“How are you going to get home from work?”
“I have several options. Don’t worry about me, Grady. I’ll be fine.”
His gaze was penetrating as he studied her. He must have realized he couldn’t persuade her to take more time off. Without embarrassment or awkwardness he zipped up his fly and rebuckled his jeans. “You have my number if you need it.” The tightness in his tone was not lost on her.
She would call him if something happened that involved his child. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be calling Grady until she went into labor.
As Francesca opened the front door of the old Victorian a half hour later, Grady was right behind her, carrying her suitcase. She was vitally aware of his physical presence. She had been since they’d almost made love in his living room.
Silently, he followed her inside. She went in, turning on lights as she went.
He stayed in the foyer. “Should I leave your suitcase here?” he called.
Seeing that everything on the first floor was still as it should be, taking in a breath of the old house and the light cinnamon scent of potpourri, she returned to the foyer. “Yes, just leave it there.”
His brow furrowed. “I could carry it upstairs.”
Yes, he could. But her dependence on him was over. “It’s okay. Really.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets.
Francesca knew she had to slice through the tension, but wasn’t quite sure how to do it. “Thank you for inviting me to your house this week. The truth is—I’ve never had anyone look after me that way.”
As he studied her, the lines around his mouth didn’t cut quite so deep. “I guess that’s why it was so hard for you to relax.”
“I relaxed,” she protested.
“When I wasn’t around.”
He really was on the mark. They couldn’t seem to be around each other without generating…something—something that was incendiary and dangerous and she knew would eventually hurt them both. They had no basis for a relationship beyond their attraction and this pregnancy.
He added, “I’d still like you to let me know how you’re doing, how you’re feeling. Will you do that?”
“I will,” she assured him, knowing now he really cared about her welfare.
He proved that again as he moved toward the door and asked, “Do you have food in the house?”
“Enough. I’ll get some groceries tomorrow.”
To his credit he didn’t ask how she would get those groceries.
Her phone rang.
“You’d better get that,” Grady said, and stepped outside.
“Thank you,” she called after him.
But he just tipped his hat and strode to his truck.
Her phone rang again. As she closed the door, she turned to answer it. She swallowed around the lump in her throat. Was she upset because Grady was leaving?
She was startled to see Darren’s number on the caller ID. Why would Darren Whitcomb be calling her at home?
Anxiety tapped at her chest as she picked up the phone and told herself there was nothing to be afraid of. She’d left Darren. It was over.
“Hi, Darren.”
“Hi, yourself. I tried to call earlier. I heard about your accident and I wanted to know how you were.”
Did he know about the baby, too? Probably. Hospital scuttlebutt was faster than Amtrak. What he didn’t know was whose baby it was. No one had known that except for Tessa, Vince, Emily and Jared.
“It was kind of you to call, but I’m fine.”
“I heard one of the nurses say you came in Friday to take care of the Vasquez baby, but that you weren’t returning to your own house.”
Why would Darren care if she was at her own house? “I stayed with…a friend. My physician thought that was better after the accident. One of my arms is in a cast for at least a month and I’m getting used to that.”
“But you’re coming back tomorrow?”
“I’m going to see how it goes.”
“You’re always the conscientious one, aren’t you?”
His voice was too familiar, as if he knew her better than he did. “Aren’t all doctors?”
“Not in the same way. You know that.”
She kept silent, waiting for the reason for his call. They hadn’t ended their relationship on friendly terms. He’d been angry she’d left. She’d just been so relieved to be away from someone who wanted to control her, someone like her father, that she hadn’t cared if they remained friends or not. But they did work in the same hospital—although on different floors and without much direct contact—so they should take a stab at being civil. Was that what Darren was doing?
“I have a case I’d like to discuss with you, a young pregnant woman with tachycardia. Would you have time to have coffee with me sometime tomorrow?”
“Darren, why aren’t you asking Dr. Saxby or Dr. Martin?”
“Because we work in the same hospital and I think it’s time we get over what happened. There’s no reason why we can’t be friendly colleagues.”
Francesca hated the fact that she was suspicious, but she didn’t believe that Darren did anything without good motivation. What was his motivation for this? Or was she just being paranoid? Still, she wasn’t a coward and if he wanted to have a face-to-face meeting she would do that, though it might be their last.
“I’ll have to assess my day when I get in in the morning. Can I give you a call around nine?”
“Nine is fine. Then we can set up a time to meet.”
If she set up a time to meet—
Her doorbell rang. Had Grady forgotten something? Her heart started an excited little patter.
“Is that your doorbell?” Darren asked. “It’s getting late for visitors.”
That was his “I know what’s best for you” tone. She’d better get off the phone before she said something she shouldn’t. “Yes, it is, so I’d better see who it is. I’ll give you a call in the morning. Have a good rest of the night, Darren.”
“I’ll talk to you in the morning,” he agreed, and hung up.
Francesca thought over the puzzling conversation as she went to her door, looked through the peephole and spotted Tessa standing on her stoop. Her arms were filled with two bags.
She called, “Let me in before I drop these.”
Francesca laughed and opened the door. Tessa hurried to the kitchen and set the bags on the eat-in counter. “I thought you might need supplies. Or did Grady take you to the grocery store?”
“No. I was going to shop tomorrow.�
��
Something in Francesca’s voice must have alerted Tessa as to her distraction. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? You mean besides having an accident, gestational diabetes, being taken care of by Grady for almost a week, meeting his entire family and then getting a call from Darren?”
“Darren? What did he want?” Tessa started emptying the bags. She knew where everything went.
“I’m not sure. He says he wants to meet for coffee to talk about a case.”
“But?”
“But he and Dr. Saxby have been colleagues longer than he and I have. And Dr. Martin is back from vacation. Darren and I haven’t spoken since I left him.”
“Maybe he wants closure.”
“Maybe.”
After Tessa stowed milk in the refrigerator, she studied her friend. “So how did the week go?”
“I saw you on Friday.”
“Yes, you did, but we couldn’t talk with Grady there.”
This was Tessa, her friend. She didn’t have to watch her words or worry about their meaning. After she took a loaf of bread from one of the bags, she put it into the bread keeper. “He confuses me, Tessa. Everything that happened before and is happening now between us confuses me.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s too much feeling attached to the air when he’s in the same room!”
Tessa laughed. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“That’s a bad thing if neither of us wants to be personally involved.”
Tessa’s eyes cut to Francesca’s baby bulge. “I think you’re beyond personally involved.”
“You know what I mean. Beyond being parents together. I’m not even sure I want to do that. I’m not sure about anything except that I love this baby already and I only want to do what’s best for him.”
“That will probably mean having Grady in his life.”
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