The Promise

by Robyn Carr

  “I happen to have a box of some of the best Basque takeout there is, and I bet you never get sick of it. I think I’ll start warming it up. White or red?”

  “That Rioja is from my uncle’s vineyard, but if you have any cold white I’d love some. If you wait till we’re done here, I can help get everything ready....”

  “I got it. I’m an expert at warming. By the time you finish your next game, their popcorn will be ready.”

  A few minutes later Scott was back holding a big bowl of popcorn. “All right, you two. I’ll put a movie on for you. Peyton’s going to have a little dinner with me.”

  “Can we play some more?” Will asked.

  “Maybe after our dinner and your movie. Come on, up on the couch.” He reached out a hand to Peyton to pull her to her feet, then he settled the kids with their treat and started the movie. They settled in just that fast. Scott pulled her into the kitchen where her wine sat on the table. “Sit down, Peyton. Tell me about your weekend while I warm some of this.”

  “Can I help?”

  “Relax. Talk to me.”

  “Where’s the sitter?”

  “Date night with Charles, the love of her life. How’s your family?”

  While Scott busied himself around the stove and microwave, she talked to him and enjoyed her wine. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been served so efficiently, as if she were an honored guest. Plates and utensils appeared, he added a little wine to her glass, and they were serving up plates and bowls. Conversation turned to the food as Peyton explained what they were eating. He had a hundred questions about the farm and the extended family who were involved in vineyards, restaurants, more farming and ranching.

  He glanced into the living room and smiled at her. “You’re off the hook for more Candy Land or War.”

  “They’re out cold,” she said.

  “I knew that would happen. We were busy today. I love the way they sleep—Will sprawls just like I do, Jenny curls into a little ball.”

  He went to fetch the popcorn bowl before it landed on the floor, then whisked away the dishes. She started to get up to help, and he said, “Sit tight, we’re not doing dishes. I just want to save the leftovers. We’re going to finish our wine and enjoy the quiet.”

  “You’re awfully good at this,” she said.

  “Practice.” He came back to the table.

  “You’ve been on your own for a while now,” she said.

  “I’ve had help. I’ve had the grandmas, sitters, day care, nannies. And Gabriella for the past two years. I don’t know what we’ll do without her. I’m on the hunt—there has to be someone out there.”

  “You must miss your wife so much.”

  “It’s a process,” he said. “At first I was in so much pain and shock I couldn’t move. Then I was angry. Angry that she’d leave me with such impossible responsibility. For a couple of years, I just pedaled as fast as I could, afraid to lift my head or I’d miss something important. And then I realized that I wasn’t the only person in the world who had this kind of life. Mostly women had been in my shoes. I saw a lot of single mothers and their children in the ER, young women struggling to make ends meet, some of them working two jobs just to squeak by. In fact, my mother had that life—my father died when I was ten and my sister was fourteen, leaving my mom on her own with a couple of kids. I decided I’d better live the life I had or I was going to be sorry. I had to let go of that anger at being abandoned and show a little gratitude for what I had. That’s when I broke my mother’s heart by looking for Thunder Point and a small clinic where I could work and raise my kids.”

  “I don’t think that’s the way most widowers or divorced fathers do it,” she said, thinking of Ted. “Most men who find themselves single fathers just install a new mother or at least a babysitter.”

  “Well, so did I,” he said. “Gabby’s parents were friends of mine, and when the kids were babies, she was a babysitter. She wanted to be a full-time sitter and go to school, so we struck a deal. If she’d work for me full-time, I’d pay her well and cover her tuition. The bonus for me was that she loves the kids. She came with me to Oregon and met Charles here, so I think she’d tell you it was worth it. Any day now she’s going to tell me that Charles is going back to Washington with her.”

  Hiring a devoted sitter wasn’t what Peyton had been getting at. Handsome young doctors like Scott shouldn’t have much trouble finding a woman who would live for the chance to be his partner, help raise his kids.... “So, no pretty young nurses lobbying to be the next Mrs. Grant?”

  He laughed uncomfortably. “I haven’t dated much. I’ve been out with a few women but not with that in mind. At some point I realized if I didn’t have a social life of some kind, I was going to remain that miserable, unhappy character who moped around resenting two perfect children who wanted only to make me happy. I was turning mean.”

  “I can’t imagine you mean,” she said, most sincerely.

  He shrugged. “People are all mean in their own way, Peyton. Some will lose their temper and lash out, others just let themselves be negative and moody. I became inattentive and self-absorbed. I had to get out of that cycle. I’ve done my best. Once I got to Oregon, I made it a point to socialize more.”

  She impulsively reached for his hand. “It must be impossible to forget your wife.”

  “Forget? Forget the mother of my children? The best friend of my youth? Is that required? Because if it’s required that I forget or pretend she wasn’t one of the most important parts of my life, I guess I’ll be alone forever. Of course I won’t forget her. She was amazing, and she’d want me to have a full, happy life. She’d want me to laugh and live fully and find love again.” Peyton pulled her hand away, and Scott reached for it, pulled it back and held it again. “Let me tell you what I think is happening here. We like each other. We’re attracted to each other. You’re probably more nervous about that than I am because you just came out of a painful breakup, but pretty soon you’ll decide it’s going to be all right because you know I don’t treat people the way he treated you.”

  “I haven’t told you that much about—”

  “You didn’t have to, you said enough. Look at the time, Peyton,” he said.

  She glanced at her watch and was startled.

  “You got here three hours ago. You played with the kids, ate a big meal with me, had a glass and a half of wine, talked to me for hours. It’s going to be okay, Peyton. I’m not going to use you or take advantage of you. And if this conversation were happening at a nice restaurant I’d be asking you if we could go someplace where we could be alone. But because I have two little kids who wander into my bed in the night and a babysitter who will be walking in the door anytime now, I can’t seduce you. I want to, but I can’t.”

  “Look,” she said, trying to pull back her hand, but not trying too hard. “Was I clear? I fell for my boss. He used the workplace where he had all the power to—”

  “I’m not going to do that, either. That might be my clinic, but it belongs to the town. And it belongs to Devon. I’m not going to use that venue to try to fumble together a love life for myself. I know the situation isn’t ideal, but I am going to figure out when I can take you out. Besides, I have no power.”

  Is he kidding? she wondered. But of course, he didn’t realize it! He thought brute strength or big bucks or notoriety made power. And so did Ted; those were his priorities. What Scott didn’t know was that honesty and integrity held the greater power, far greater than the awards and citations and certifications that could be framed and hung on the wall. Love for your children was a powerful force; kindness and sincerity held more power than money. And how about loyalty and fidelity? She was very fond of those things. It didn’t hurt that he put a kick-ass physique and eyes that seemed to listen and an electrifying smile with it all....

  “I would like to kiss you good night,” he said.

  And love, she thought. Love for others, that would make life whole. Had Ted ever truly lo
ved her? He’d wanted her, she knew that. To a great extent, he’d needed her. But had he really loved her? Maybe in his own pathetic way, but he had always loved Ted best. Did he love Lindsey as much as he loved himself? Because Ted being Ted might have followers and even worshippers, but until he knew how to share love, Ted would end up being alone with the love of his life—himself.

  “I can do that,” she said to the idea of a kiss.

  He pulled her over onto his lap, and she put her arms around his neck. He tested her lips softly. Carefully. Then he pressed a little harder, a little longer. He was coming in for the kill, she could tell. She stopped him and said, “What about the kids?”

  “They watch TV, Peyton. Kissing isn’t against the law. It won’t cause them to have immoral thoughts....”

  With that, he pulled her closer, holding her against him, and went after her mouth like a starving man. He devoured her, using his lips to open hers. One hand rose to her jaw, holding her tight, working her lips with his tongue. His hand slid under her hair at the back of her head, pressing her firmly against his mouth while his tongue deftly played with hers. He groaned into her mouth, and she welcomed him with a little moan of her own.

  He was the best thing she’d tasted in a very long time. While he held her tighter, she held him as closely as she could. When he plunged his hand into her hair, she ran her fingers through his. His stubble was rough on her lips and chin, and she didn’t mind. In fact, she liked it. His breathing grew a little more rapid and coarse, panting. She pulled back, her lips still touching his.

  “I’m getting immoral thoughts,” he whispered against her mouth.

  “I should go before things get out of control.”

  “I’m not going to lose control,” he said. “I won’t hold it against you if you do.”

  She laughed lightly. “You seem to be...ah...” She wiggled a little on his lap. “Responding.”

  “Oh, yeah. A lot of ideas are running through my mind right now. All inappropriate.”

  “Like?”

  “The bathroom. The dining-room-table fort. Right here, right now.”

  She laughed. “I better go.”

  He pushed against her a little bit. “Can I take you out to dinner this week?”

  She lifted one brow. “Will I actually get dinner?” she asked suspiciously.

  “Yes, Peyton. You will get dinner—your choice of restaurant. And dessert is up to you. Completely up to you. You’re the one in charge.”

  “Check your schedule,” she said. “I’m free every night.”

  Just that promise of an evening together caused him to kiss her again, long and hard, deep and wet. His arousal was all too obvious, and she was well aware of the erotic feelings he had stirred up in her. His kiss left her gasping.

  He buried his face in her neck, breathing hard. “Gimme a minute, okay? And then we can get up....”

  She held him there, comforting, soothing, murmuring. She inhaled the smell of his hair. Oh, God, she had so missed the comfort and affection of this—warm bodies close, the promise of excitement and fulfillment.

  “I haven’t done this in a while,” she whispered.

  “I haven’t done it in even longer. I say we get right back on that horse and ride like wind. What do you think?”

  She sighed. “Like the wind...”

  Ten

  Scott stuck to his word. He did not make any romantic overtures toward Peyton at the clinic. He could tell by the sly looks she slanted his way that this surprised her. It was difficult; she would never know how difficult. Every time he saw her he wanted to grab her in his arms and just kiss the daylights out of her. He had a hard time pulling his eyes away from her. But he didn’t touch her. He wouldn’t. It was very important that she not get the impression she was dealing with another Ted Ramsdale. He was not going to be that guy, a boss with a lot of baggage on the make.

  Fortunately he worked at the clinic on Monday and Tuesday mornings, went to the Bandon ER for the afternoons and then was scheduled on call both evenings. Monday night he was called out, but so far on Tuesday evening his cell phone remained blessedly quiet. On the way back to Thunder Point he called Gabriella and asked how everyone was doing at home. Dinner and baths were already done, she reported. He let her know he wanted to run a few errands, and could be called back to Bandon so might not be home before bedtime.

  He stopped at an Italian bakery. He drove to Peyton’s little duplex and rang the bell. When she opened the door, he held up the bag. “Cannoli,” he said with a grin. And then he noted the look on her face. “I should’ve called.”

  “No, it’s okay,” she said. “Come in.”

  “I have the feeling I’m interrupting something,” he said. There was music playing; it was a mellow, moody old tune. “At Last” by Etta James. He put the bag on the small kitchen table. “I think something’s wrong. And we’re too new for anything to be wrong.”

  “Just an unexpected development,” she said. “There’s a pediatric heart surgeon in Seattle. I met her at a conference, and we made the occasional, though rare, referral to her. Christine Sullivan. She’s one of the best in the country, very impressive credentials, quite well known. She heard I left Ted’s practice, and she hunted me down. I got an email from her this afternoon. She made me a job offer.”

  “That’s wonderful, Peyton! That says a lot about your reputation.”

  “I’m pretty experienced in cardiology now....”

  “Why does this upset you?” he asked, perplexed.

  “I don’t know how to respond.”

  “Oh, I get it,” he said. “You want the job.”

  “That wouldn’t bother you?”

  “Oh, Peyton, I’d hate it if you left. I don’t want you to leave, not ever. I’ll make every argument I can think of, but I’ll never hold you back. I think we could have a successful practice here. Not a wealthy practice, but very successful and very satisfying.”

  “Her PA is leaving on maternity leave in October. She’d like to take six months and then come back part-time....”

  He pulled her against him. “That gives me a little time,” he said. “If you’re not leaving tomorrow, maybe there are things I can tempt you with.” He began to sway with the music. “I bet she offered you a big pile of money.”

  “She did.”

  “Well, that’s one thing I don’t have. But I have other things. Great things.”

  She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “Like what?”

  “The ocean,” he said. “Football games. Cute kids. A little clinic everyone loves and needs. Quiet. You don’t have to lock your door. You should, but really, it’s so unusual for anything bad to happen here. Storms over the bay—they’re amazing. People bring things to the office—cookies, cakes, all kinds of stuff, and you have a relentless sweet tooth.”

  “Let me ask you something,” she said. “You don’t have a lot of experience with women, right?”

  He shook his head. “I married my high school girlfriend.” His hands rested on her hips and pulled her closer. “That was a miracle in itself, that I had a girlfriend in high school. Especially one like Serena, she was beautiful. But I was a nerd, not a jock. I got very good grades,” he said, resting his lips on her forehead. “I bet Ted got good grades and is athletic, too.”

  She nodded. “Golf, tennis, polo...”

  “Polo? Jesus, he is so easy to hate.”

  “You met a girl, you loved her, you married her, you were committed,” she said.

  “Try not to hold that against me,” he replied.

  “I think it might be best if we just reel this back in, refuse to take it any further and keep our relationship strictly professional.”

  “That’s very wise,” he said, holding her. “I’m afraid that’s no longer an option for me. If it’s what you want, I completely understand. But I hope you’ll at least think about it a while longer.”

  “I’m afraid if I let myself get any more involved, you’ll eventually hate me.”
>
  He shook his head. “That’s not possible. Listen,” he said, lifting her chin with a finger. “I was interested in you the second I met you. I just got more interested every day. Then I crossed over into seriously wanting you. If it turns out you’re not mine to have, I’ll be really disappointed. But if you think I’m going to walk away without trying, you’re crazy. I’m not that big a fool.”

  “I should at least take another day or two to figure out if I can deal with this,” she said. “Even though you brought cannoli.”

  “Much to my disappointment, you’re going to get a couple of days....”

  “Ah, you do see the wisdom to that!”

  “No, Peyton. My phone is in my pocket, set to vibrate. I’m on call tonight till midnight. It would be so embarrassing if someone bled to death because I was getting laid.” He made a face and shrugged. “It might be worth it, but it would be embarrassing.”

  A huff of laughter escaped her. “What makes you think you’re getting laid?”

  “I’m a dedicated optimist.” He heard a sound and looked over her shoulder to see the old turntable release another record. “Wow. I haven’t seen one of those in twenty years.”

  “I collect old vinyls. Very old.”

  “Aw, see, you’re just way too classy for me....” He swayed with her in his arms, wishing that he’d learned to really dance. As he was feeling her against him, he was listening to the lyrics while Ronnie Milsap sang that any day now his wild and beautiful bird will have flown away. The words were just plain too telling, enough to depress him. He felt her arms tighten around him, and he kissed her. Damn, he liked kissing her. They had such a nice fit, such a good rhythm and movement. He couldn’t remember ever tasting anything so right for his mouth. He kissed her through an entire song—probably three minutes.

  As the next record was being released, she said, “What am I going to do about that job offer?”

  “Honey, that’s the easy part. Answer it. Tell this world-class surgeon that you’re flattered, intrigued and you’re thinking about it. That’s the truth. Just out of curiosity, would you tell me what she offered you?”