With her body pressed against his, her heat and softness melding to his chest, a forgotten hunger came out of hiding. He wanted more of her. Confusion about pursuing his lust and whether it would be wise or not, and the more practical need to pick up his son at a reasonable hour, soon crept back into his thoughts and ruined the moment. He couldn’t get carried away now. Was she trying to seduce him? Or had he made way too much out of her inviting kisses? She was a naturally passionate person, probably couldn’t control it, so it made sense that she’d kiss like this. He was the one who’d blown everything way out of proportion because he was so out of practice, and still smarting, thanks to Katie. He cupped Andrea’s soft cheeks and regretfully ended the kiss.
Neither said a word. He stared at her warm brown eyes and she stared back. The unspoken, mutual message being Wow. Yeah, there was definitely something there. Something between them. Sparks and fireworks and all. He couldn’t very well jump into the sack with her, as he might have done back in medical school, not now that he was thirty-five, and a father, but he definitely knew, good idea or bad, he wanted to, and that was definitely a step forward.
“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?” he asked, his voice throaty with desire.
Her eyes went bigger, as if they could, and she smiled. Something told him to sell the deal, just in case there was any hesitation on her part about seeing a new guy two nights in a row. Three if they counted the night she’d measured Dani for his prosthetic eye. Oh, and lunch yesterday... But who was counting?
“I’m a great cook, and I plan to dazzle you with my culinary skills. And after Dani goes to bed, we can do more of this.” He kissed her lightly but, practicing restraint, only once.
Her eyes went dreamy. Good, she liked his pitch.
“I’d love to but I’ve made plans with my mother for tomorrow night. I’m sorry.”
What? At least she hadn’t blown him off outright, but plans with her mother?
“Would Saturday work?” she said, before he had the chance to think any further.
“It does. As a matter of fact, it does.” The blush on her cheeks may have been fading, but he was glad he’d put it there in the first place, and he was especially happy about her taking him up on his invitation, even if it was a day later.
Yeah, he was in trouble.
“Then I’ll see you at seven on Saturday. How’s that?”
“I’ll be there.”
He wasn’t sure what he was getting himself into, seeing a woman—a yellow-flag-raising woman—several nights in a row, and maybe taking Friday night off would be a good thing, to cool down, but right at this exact moment he liked the possibilities.
* * *
“That was the greatest meal I’ve ever had,” Andrea said on Saturday night, wiping her mouth with a paper napkin and pushing back from the table. “Even counting the Thai food Thursday night.”
“You’re awfully easy to please,” Sam said, smiling. They were sitting at the small round table in the kitchen alcove, and he loved it that she liked his cooking. “Since it’s the weekend I probably should have made something fancier.”
“Are you kidding? I loved the shepherd’s pie. The chicken was a nice switch, the spring vegetables were fresh, and I could tell your crust was homemade.”
“You’re okay with a guy who makes his own crust?” It was one of the first ways he’d bonded with his foster mom, by helping out in the kitchen. He’d wanted to be that good, likable boy whom they wouldn’t send back, and helping in the kitchen had paid off. Not that they’d ever threatened or anything, but he’d been sent to a couple other foster homes before he’d wound up at the Murphys’.
Andrea gave a quick throaty laugh, one he’d already come to like. “I don’t cook, so any homemade meal is a treat.”
She didn’t cook? Being artistic, he’d half expected her to be a gourmet chef, even worried she’d find his basic home cooking boring. Turned out that line of thinking had been a waste of time, since he was the one with the kitchen skills. “Then I’m especially glad you enjoyed it.” He pushed another tiny yellow waving flag to the back of his brain. One: artist. Two: doesn’t cook. And changed the subject.
“See, Dani? She cleaned her plate.”
The little boy had eaten less than half of his dinner when he’d pushed away his bowl. Sam, being a pediatrician and often reassuring stressed-out mothers that their picky eaters were getting all the nutrition they needed, had been suffering from the same worries where Dani was concerned. The boy’s all-time favorite meal was white rice. Period. Where was the nutrition in that?
“You sure you don’t want another bite of baby carrot and new potato?” Sam remained hopeful Dani might want to show off for his new friend Andrea, but Dani shook his head vigorously, lips sealed tight.
Andrea scooted her chair closer to Dani in his booster seat. She picked up his fork and put a small mouthful of food on it, then made a buzzing sound and moved the fork around like an airplane. She lifted it upward, and Dani followed it with his one good eye, then to the right and the left. Dani might not be sure what was going on but she definitely kept his attention.
“Open wide for the landing,” she said, buzzing and moving the fork in concentric circles toward his face.
Amazingly, Dani opened his mouth and let her place the food inside.
“You’re good at that,” she said, grinning. “Can you do it yourself?” Without waiting for his answer, she speared another small bite of dinner with his fork, but this time handed it over to Dani. “Bzzzzz,” she began, and Dani moved his fork up then down, then around and round and right into his mouth. He laughed, mouth full of food and all, and Andrea clapped.
“You really are good at that. Want to do it again?” she said, sitting pertly on the edge of the chair in her layered tank tops of orange and blue, looking as colorful as one of her paintings.
Dani agreed to a third bite, but after that he was through, and she didn’t push him. Good for her. She glanced at Sam and he nodded at her secret message. Yup, that was three more bites eaten that neither of them—them being him or Dani—had expected. Evidently, with the satisfied smile perched on that lovely mouth of hers, she’d never had a doubt it wouldn’t work.
Sam had no sooner subtracted points from Andrea’s scoreboard for not being a cook than he added some back for helping Dani eat, and several more for being so damn sweet about it. Not to mention the bonus points for being so easy on the eyes and the fact she was a damn good kisser. Sam stood to clear the table, and hopefully clear his head. Andrea had him all mixed up.
“Let me do that,” she said, hopping up and taking the dishes from his hands. “It’s the least I can do to thank you.”
He stopped himself from making a wisecrack about not having a stool for her to stand on at the sink, choosing instead to enjoy having a woman like Andrea in his home, bringing such warmth and fun along with her. “Okay, if you insist.”
She tossed him a sassy glance. “I do.” Then she moseyed off to the kitchen sink, swaying her jeans-clad hips in an exaggerated manner. He and Dani weren’t the only ones having a good time. The thought squeezed his heart the slightest bit. Was it a good idea to let Dani fall for her right along with him?
“Well, in that case, come on, Dani, are you ready for your bath?” He helped his son down from the booster seat and Dani ran straight for the hall.
“Yay, bath!”
“Be careful, remember the bookcase,” Sam couldn’t stop himself from warning Dani about the furniture, since they were still working on his loss of vision on the left.
Dani pretended to run into the wall, then made a big deal about faking falling down.
“You character,” Sam said, grinning.
The boy got up again, squealed with delight and, having clearly gotten his dad’s approval, ran into the opposite wall on purpose.
“You’re a silly, silly guy, you know that?” Sam said, laughing and playing along with Dani all the way toward the bathroom. Realizing that his son most likely did it to impress Andrea, Sam shook his head. Guys, even little guys, can’t resist showing off for pretty ladies. That moment of understanding, that Dani was a little guy who would one day become a man and who deserved all the fun stuff in life, just like anyone else, circled Sam’s chest with warmth.
That clench of the heart from earlier squeezed about ten times harder. No matter how many times Sam had doubted himself about adopting Dani, the boy always proved what a perfect decision it had been. Adoption was just like a marriage vow, in sickness and in health. They were on this road together, and Sam never intended to let him down. The same way Mom Murphy had thought about him and the other foster kids she’d brought into her home. Damn, he missed her.
As he walked down the hall, just before he reached the bathroom he glanced back toward the kitchen. A whistling and singing-under-her-breath picture of beauty, Andrea stood at the sink as she organized the dishes and ran steamy, soapy water. Then he applauded himself for making another spot-on decision—asking her over for dinner tonight.
And God help him if he was setting himself up for another fall.
CHAPTER FOUR
ANDREA WORKED DILIGENTLY, polishing the clear acrylic replica of Dani’s eye shape, taken from the mold in her office workshop. The sooner he was fitted, the sooner she’d know if the prosthetic was comfortable and therefore functional for a healthy and active growing child. The month-long adjustment period was probably the most important step in the process.
Then she’d begin delicately painting the subtle characteristics of his individual iris. The series of photographs she’d taken the other night were posted on her computer screen for her to zoom in on and examine. Everything from color patterns, striations and flecks would be replicated in Dani’s final prosthesis. Even now red embroidery string had been draped in the configuration of minute red vessels on the white blob that would soon become Dani’s sclera.
Sure, there was a new push for digitized replications for prosthetic eyes, but her grandmother was strictly old-school, and that’d made Andrea, even at the age of twenty-eight, an old-school diehard, too. Though she admitted to being interested in the new process popping up around the country. If it meant getting more high-quality eyes to more people in an efficient manner, it might be worth looking into.
When she hooked up the acrylic to a muslin-mopped buffing machine, her mind wandered.
A shiver snaked down her spine as she remembered the time-stopping kiss she’d shared with Sam on Saturday night. They’d been spending a lot of time kissing over the past few days. He was a good kisser. While they’d lingered in their lip-lock she’d explored the strength of his shoulders and chest, resisting the urge to continue on down his frame to his butt. That was definitely territory she hoped to check out in the near future. If she played her cards right...
A countertop pressure cooker dinged. An eye her grandmother had been working on had cured to rubbery toughness, so she took it out. With Andrea’s thoughts securely back on the business of prosthetics and Dani, warmth opened and spread like a big floppy flower in her chest as she thought about her growing crush on the boy. He was so trusting and sweet and, well, she’d gone and let him steal her heart. A smile, urged on by tender thoughts, spread across her face until she thought about Sam and jitters replaced that warm fuzzy feeling. Would it be wise to fall for a highly driven doctor, like her father? She knew firsthand the consequences of stepping into that situation. What about Dani? Would he grow up feeling the way she had all her life, second best to his father’s profession?
She thought about how caring Sam was with Dani, how attentive and alert to his needs he’d been that night. And after putting Dani to bed, how attentive he’d been to her. Another shiver shot down her spine. No. He was nothing like her father. That guy she’d met the first day here in the office had been an aberration. His son had just had surgery! He’d been stressed to his limit, and she hadn’t helped the situation one iota. Of course they’d gotten off on the wrong foot.
Sam was nothing like Jerome Rimmer.
Her office desk phone rang.
“Hey,” Sam said on the other end.
“Hi!” I was just thinking about you.
“I had a minute and wanted to call.”
Because he was thinking about her, too? “I’m glad you did. I’m working on Dani’s acrylic and need to fit him again.”
“I’ll ask Cat to bring him in, if that’s okay.”
“Of course. You’ve got a busy schedule.”
“And it just got busier. Have you read the newspaper today?”
“Haven’t had a chance yet.” It wasn’t a part of her routine because national news always depressed her.
“I’m part of a medical mission group, that’s how I met Dani, and we try to set up clinics at least once a year wherever we’re needed. I just got an email that our scheduled trip got postponed because of the drug cartel activity in Mexico, and they want to discuss it at a last-minute meeting tonight. I’ve been so busy with Dani I’d forgotten all about it. Anyway, I’m going to have to go to a meeting tonight.” He went quiet.
She caught on to where he was going with the conversation. “And you need me to watch Dani?”
“As a matter of fact...”
After all the swooning thoughts she’d had about the boy, not to mention Sam, she didn’t need to think. “I’d be happy to. That means I get to see Dani.” And maybe kiss you again.
“Thank you so much.” She heard pure relief in his voice.
On the verge of saying “Anytime,” she stopped herself. She’d already just jumped right in and offered to babysit without giving it a second thought. She didn’t want to be taken for granted. “You’re welcome.”
“Is six-thirty okay? I’ll try to have him bathed and ready for bed by then.”
Again, she stopped herself from saying “No problem, I can do it” and instead went the efficient route. “That works for me.”
“Can you stick around afterward?” His tone had gone quiet. Sexy. “Let’s take that rain check on wine and...” Hadn’t they already done that on Saturday night? But who was counting? She’d gladly keep rain checking over and over.
“Ah, sweetening the pot, I see. Now I’m all in.” How was a living, breathing woman supposed to resist that kind of invitation and not play along?
His low, sexy-as-hell rumble of a laugh nearly had her hanging up the phone and marching upstairs to Pediatrics so she could plant one major, sloppy kiss on him right then and there to seal their deal.
“I’ll see you later, then,” he said. “I’ve got to run now.”
“Okay, see you later.” After hanging up, she quickly returned to her senses.
Sure, she liked Dani and Sam but things needed to proceed naturally and at their own pace. Plus she didn’t want to come off like a welcome mat for Sam to take advantage of. She’d known the guy for a week and was already volunteering to be his babysitter. Sheesh. If she was going to get into a relationship with Sam, it should be for all the right reasons, not because of convenience.
She needed to stay focused and realistic.
Truth was, any night spent with Sam or babysitting Dani was a night away from painting. Since they’d bumped her up to five days a week instead of four in the O&A department, that left the weekends plus weeknights for painting, and she had minimal time for art as it was. Plus she worried about Sam always being taken away from his son. A medical mission meant travel. Who’d take care of Dani? Then it hit her.
Was Sam setting her up for that, too? If not her, how often did Sam expect to ship Dani off to his aunt Cat’s? Little Dani had had no say in the adoption, but she was quite sure that wasn’t what he’d bargained for. K
ids needed their parents around as much as possible. That’s how they felt loved. Again, she knew that from personal experience.
Hating how her relationship with her father shadowed her thoughts about Sam, but admitting she had some real concerns about him not being around enough for the boy, she refocused and went back to work on the prosthesis. But this time the job wasn’t accompanied by dreamy thoughts or a wistful smile.
The next week...
Dani arrived at Andrea’s office for the fine-tuning of the clear acrylic the boy had been wearing in preparation for his permanent prosthetic eye. They’d arranged for an end-of-shift appointment, so once Cat delivered the boy, Andrea could take Dani to Sam after his pediatric clinic ended. They’d also agreed to all have dinner out afterward, nothing fancy or exotic this time, just good old American food for Dani’s sake.
Andrea replaced Dani’s eye patch and patted his arm. “You’re getting used to it?”
The boy shrugged his narrow shoulders.
“Does it bother you?”
“Don’t know.” He looked at his lap. She realized he didn’t understand her questions.
“Does it hurt? Do you want to rub it?” She demonstrated rubbing her eye and made a face as if her eye hurt.
He stared at her with his one beautiful brown eye and slowly shook his head.
“That’s good, then I did a good job.” She smiled and he smiled back. “Want to go see your dad?”
His face brightened as he nodded exuberantly. After saying goodbye to her grandmother, off they went toward the elevator, Andrea feeling protective of Dani when people noticed his eye patch and reacted with sad pouts or sorry faces. She’d come to know the boy quickly in the past couple of weeks, and already she was attached to him, always eager to see him whenever she saw Sam. She also was beginning to understand Sam’s deep concerns, not wanting Dani to see himself as inferior or pitied by others.
A Mother for His Adopted Son Page 6