His Motherless Little Twins (15 page)

“Falling for the wrong man?”

“You know that's my history. I haven't kept any secrets about that.”

“So when you say
falling
, what, exactly, do you mean?”

“You know,
falling
…spending time with, enjoying the company of, wanting more time with.” Making love with more than one night. “That's all.” No mention of love intended.

“Look, Dinah, I know we haven't had much time to ourselves, but—”

“No time to ourselves, Eric?
No time?
” That was his choice, and maybe it was a good choice since she'd gone and done it again—fallen for the wrong man, love possibly intended. “But that's fine. I'll stay out of your way while I'm still here, and in another week or so, you won't even have to worry about that.” She glanced at Patricia's picture again and thought about Eric. Maybe someday, someone would have that same kind of enduring love for her.

“Stay out of my way? Where did you ever get the idea that I want you to stay out of my way?” He pushed himself from his desk chair, and started to round the desk, but this time Dinah was the one who backed away from him.

“That's what you've been doing, isn't it? And I understand, Eric. I totally understand.”

“Good, then maybe you can explain it to me because it's driving me crazy. I mean, all I can think about is that night in the woods, and when I let those thoughts distract me, I might as well hang up the white coat because I'm no good to anyone. Which isn't what my patients need from me. If
anything, my preference would be to have you in my way as much as I can.”

“I distract you?” she asked, still backing away as he came toward her. Backing, but in smaller steps now as his steps toward her grew larger.

“What did you think? That I'd make love to you once, and that was it?”

“Maybe. Since that's the way it was, and you've barely even spoken to me since.” Her back to the wall next to his office door, she had two choices. Stay where she was, pressed into the bookshelf on her right, or scoot to the left and slip out into the hall. “I don't make good decisions, Eric. I've told you…”

“And you don't think I'm a good decision?”

“That's not what I meant.”

He clicked the lock on the door. “It's not what I expected, Dinah. None of it is and I'm trying to sort things out. Trying to let go, and hang on, and change and adjust. And that's why I've been avoiding you. The only reason.” In the next instant she was locked in his embrace, their lips together. Urgent. Hungry. His fingers pressing down the sides of her spine better than the feel of any fingers on her, ever.

She arched against him, felt the hard outline of his erection on her pelvis and rocked herself into it. Craving it. Craving him, as his hands moved forward, pulled up the green cotton scrub top she was wearing and sought her breasts. Even through the thin silk of her bra, the feel of his hands cupping her, exploring her made her want more, lust for more. Give more of herself to him.

Eric groaned as her tongue sought his, sucked his, and he groaned even louder while she yanked his scrub shirt loose from his pants and ran her hands over his belly, up his chest, twining her fingers in the mat of soft chest hair, flicking his
nipple, squeezing, teasing… It was only when her fingers returned to his belly and were frantically engaged in untying the drawstring to his scrub pants that she caught herself. “We should probably get a room if we want to do this,” she said, her voice so rough with want she didn't recognize it.

Her words were the bucket of cold water they needed, because Eric stepped back, shuddered, ran his hand through his hair then let out a final groan. “You make me want to do things I've never done,” he admitted.

“Is that good?” Her immediate fear was that he felt conflicted, or guilty. It was always the big wall between them. The thing she always feared. And she couldn't argue or compete with that. “Or bad?”

A smile crept to his face. A deliciously sexy smile on his lips that eventually spread to his eyes. “Very good.” He opened his arms to her, and she practically fell into them. “I'm not sure what we're going to do, at least in the long term, and I'm positive of what we'd do in the short term if we let ourselves. Which leaves us in between, doesn't it?”

“In between isn't bad,” she said. In fact, it felt very good. Everything she'd hoped for. Of course, she didn't hope in the long term, which was what made the in between what it was. Perfect, for now. “Is it?”

Eric didn't answer, though. He merely sighed, and held her. This time very tenderly.

Tender was nice. She liked tender. In fact, this was the first time anyone had ever held her this way, and she was discovering it was the way she'd like to be held forever.

Forever, and only by Eric.

Which meant… No! It couldn't mean
that
, could it?

 

She'd been gone thirty minutes, and he still wasn't sure he could leave his office. Just thinking about her made him
weak. Got him aroused. Plunged him into the throes of a conflict like he'd never imagined could exist.

But she was short term here in White Elk. That's what she kept saying, and that's what he had to fix on. If he trusted his whole heart to her, could he trust her to stay? She was always so close to running, and he needed stability in his life. The problem was, Dinah didn't think she had stability in her. She did, of course. It was obvious to anyone who looked on. But she fought so hard against it and, truly, he couldn't bring that kind of conflict into his girls' lives. They loved Dinah, and would love her more and more as days turned into weeks, turned into months. She wouldn't hurt them intentionally, he knew that. But the big
what if
still haunted him. What if she did leave? What if he couldn't move forward enough in his life to keep her here?

Moving on… Glancing at the picture of Patricia he still kept on his desk, he smiled wistfully. She'd been important for so long. Maybe longer than had been good for him. He'd taken off the ring, but it was finally time to take off the marriage. Because he wasn't married, and to move forward meant he had to free himself. That was the first step…anything else wasn't being fair to Dinah. And anything else made him feel guilty, made him feel disloyal…
to Dinah
. So he had to move on, or maybe move away from. He wasn't sure which. “And I wish you were here to tell me,” he said, picking up the picture.

He studied his wife's face. Beautiful. Angelic. Everything he'd loved. But so long ago, and for the first time in all these years he felt the distance. That's what he'd always feared the most, but somehow it wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be. Because of Dinah. She was filling that gap. “I'm lonely, Patricia. I need…I need everything again. And I'm at a point in my life when I want it. I'm ready to start over.” A lump came
to his throat. “Her name is Dinah…Dinah Corday. She's so…so different from the things I thought I had to have in a woman. But she fits. I'm not sure why, and I'm not even sure she wants to, but these are my first steps, and I'm stumbling because I don't want to lose you…never wanted to lose you. Yet I can't hang on any longer. But even after I took off the wedding ring I still held on because I didn't know if I could move on.

“She's good with the girls, Patricia. She loves them, and they love her. And you'd love her for the way she loves our daughters. This isn't easy for me, though. Until now I've been in limbo because I didn't want to let go, didn't want anything different from what we wanted, but…” He kissed the picture, as he did every day, and sat it back on his desk. As he continued looking at it, though, the image of Dinah's face was beginning to cloud his vision.

After another long moment he picked up Patricia's gold-framed photo, hugged it to his chest, kissed it one final time and laid it gently, face down, in his bottom desk drawer. Then he picked up his phone and dialed.

“Janice, I need a favor. There's something I want you to pick up for me at the hospital. It's in the desk drawer. Take it home, put it away for the girls…”

Afterwards, it wasn't a good feeling settling over him. Wasn't a bad one either. More like it was a necessary feeling. One that had been a long time coming. Because of Dinah.

“Dinah…” He whispered the name as he settled back in his chair, shut his eyes and conjured up her image. So now what was he going to do about Dinah?

D
INAH'S
shift at the hospital went quite smoothly. She treated stomachaches, sprains, earache, and a mysterious rash that turned out to be a berry stain. Eric stayed in Emergency as doctor on duty, and every now and then, out of the corner of her eye, she caught him staring at her.

No staring back, though. She was a complete, total mess. Maybe in love. Maybe not. Maybe leaving White Elk. Maybe not. Maybe, maybe, maybe! That was the sum total of her life up until now, and she was only just beginning to see it for what it was. Patterns repeating themselves, over and over. Patterns she ordained because she didn't believe she could get past them. Who knew? This could have been what her subconscious was telling her she deserved, and maybe that's why she simply couldn't let herself go yet again.

Because I…I hide behind excuses.
She made mistakes. She was too emotional. She didn't trust. Eric wasn't over his wife. But…they were excuses, and everybody could invent excuses for almost anything they wanted to avoid. And she wanted to avoid… Dear God, it was so simple.
I'm scared of being hurt again.
Her father, her husband, Charles, Molly…Every time she loved, she got hurt. Which was why she was
ready to run…because she wanted to avoid the inevitable. To give her heart away, then to have it broken every time…

But Eric wouldn't hurt her. Not intentionally, anyway. Still, his attachment to Patricia… If she forced him to move past that, he would eventually come to resent her. But if he couldn't get past that, their relationship would never be totally theirs.

“Eric, we need to talk,” she said, catching up to him in the lobby as the shift ended. She had exactly four hours to sleep then she had to get up and start meal prep at the lodge. But she could make do with three and a half hours of sleep, she felt so strongly about this. They needed to talk. Needed to work this out now, or walk away from each other before they were both hurt too badly. And the one thing she never wanted to do was hurt Eric.

“Sorry, but I'm on my way up to the resort on the middle Sister. They've had an outbreak of food poisoning, and I need to go inspect the kitchen and tend a few patients there. If you'd care to go along…”

So much for good intentions. Dinah declined with a shake of her head. “Don't have time. I've got to be on duty to cook in a little while. But make sure you check the walk-in fridge. In most professional kitchens there's always something lurking in there that should have been thrown out a month ago.”

“Wish you'd go with me,” he said. “I could make you my unofficial assistant health inspector. But since you can't, can we do this another time?”

She was disappointed, but she understood. His duty as a doctor called, and her duty as a chef wasn't too far behind. “Tomorrow, then?”

“Dinner tonight? I could come to the lodge…”

She shook her head. “I have a dinner meeting to serve. A hundred businessmen coming to eat, drink and be merry. And they have a huge menu ordered.”

“So they probably wouldn't notice one more if I just showed up.”

She laughed. “They wouldn't, but I would. And I don't need the distraction.”

“You're saying I would distract you?”

He took a step closer to her, his eyes full of that familiar devilish glint, which caused Dinah to back up a step. “I'm saying that something might, and it
could
be you.” Mercy, why did everything that happened between them have to sizzle so? Because she was positively hot, and in more ways than she knew she could be. And all from such an innocent little suggestion!

“Well, then, I wouldn't want to come between a hundred hungry men and their food, would I?” Grinning, he took another step closer. “Or would I?”

“Only if you're the one who gets to explain why their risotto is dry.”

“Nothing worse than dry risotto, I always say. Tomorrow, then? I have an appointment in the morning to look at a house, and a woman's opinion would be nice.” Advancing yet another step, he got close enough to her to bend low and whisper, “Especially when you're the woman.” Then he gave her a quick kiss on the neck, and straightened up.

Dinah glanced around to see if anybody had noticed, and when she saw that the only eyes staring at her where those of a gold and white koi swimming in the lobby aquarium, she breathed a sigh of relief. Having this…this whatever it was with Eric in private was one thing. But she didn't want it going public, didn't want people knowing or speculating. That turned it into something it wasn't. Put her in a position she didn't want to be in. Or didn't want to admit to herself that she wanted to be in.

“Did I embarrass you?” he asked, chuckling at her reaction.

“No.” Big lie, and Eric realized that, because he was already stepping away from her, a wide grin smeared across his face in his retreat. She did want him to retreat, of course, but part of her didn't want it at all. “Well, maybe a little.”

He laughed out loud. “Well, I'm on the verge of embarrassing you even more. So maybe I'd better get going.”

“Then I'll see you tomorrow morning,” she said, turning and practically running in the opposite direction. She didn't stop until she reached the side entrance door, where she discovered she'd gone to the wrong door, he'd gotten her so flustered. Flustered, confused. What on earth was she doing?

 

It was a lovely house. Open, spacious. A log cabin, actually, with a vaulted ceiling reaching up so high the only thing Dinah could think about was how to dust the cobwebs off the light fixtures in the ceiling.

She and Eric had said very little on their way inside, but only because the realtor, Robert Tucker, was on their heels, chattering on about every last little detail concerning the house—when it was built, why it was empty, how much land came with it. He was a veritable fountain of facts, probably because he could taste the sale. The minute they stepped through the front door, she saw the look on Eric's face, a look that said he'd come home.

And here she was, trying to figure out a way to dust his home. Even decorate it, fantasizing about a large, overstuffed couch in front of the huge stone fireplace and picturing a king-sized bed in the master suite. Places to curl up and be comfy.

“You like it?” Eric asked.

She liked it so much she could see herself living there. Of course, she wasn't going to gush about it. It wasn't going to be her house. But if she could have chosen the perfect place
for her and Eric and the girls, this would have been it. “I think it will be great for you and the girls. The bedrooms are huge. They'll love that. And there's great space out back for them to play. You could put in a swimming pool, maybe their own little playhouse.”

“Buying something like this is a big step,” he said on a sigh.

“Trepidation's natural. But let the girls have a say in decorating their rooms, and you'll be fine.”

“With two five-year-olds in charge, you really think I'll be fine?” He pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket. “This is their list of demands, and it starts with a fenced yard for a dog…a cat, a pony, and a goat.”

“A goat?”

Eric shrugged. “Beats an elephant, I suppose.”

“And I suppose you'll give in to them.”

“On the dog. Maybe the pony.”

“But you'll draw the line at a goat? What if the goat is actually more important to them than the pony or the dog?” she teased.

He chuckled. “You're always on their side, aren't you?”

“It's hard not to be.”

“Patricia would have liked that. I always figured she'd be more indulgent with the girls than I would be, and she'd be happy knowing that you're the one indulging them. And that the girls like you. Which they do, Dinah. You're at the top of their best-friends-forever list.”

Surprisingly, that touched her, and tears filled her eyes. “Do they ever talk about their mother?” she asked, fighting back the sniffles that were sure to follow.

“Not really. I'm all they've ever had, and I'm not sure I do a good job of keeping Patricia in their lives. I've always been afraid it would make them too sad.”

“Or give them part of their identity,” she whispered, as the tears finally broke free. “It's a delicate balance, a balance they need.”

“What gave you part of your identity, Dinah? What was your delicate balance? Because I want to know you, know what makes you so afraid.”

Dinah glanced out the large picture window at Robert Tucker, who was staring back in at them, his face alight with eager anticipation of a sale. She couldn't do this now. Not when he had Patricia on his mind, because he might think she was attacking Patricia, or that she was jealous. Which she was not. Truthfully, she admired the way he loved his wife. But the things she needed to say to him had to be done when Patricia wasn't the first thing he thought about. It had to be about them, with nothing else between them, so it would have to wait. “We don't need to talk about that now. Not when Mr. Tucker is about ready to jump out of his skin. From the look on his face, I think he has plans for the commission he'll make on the sale, and he's anxious to go spend that money.”

“Dinah, I do want to talk about it. I want to know…”

She shook her head, thrust out her hand to stop him. Sniffled. Shook her head again. “No. You've got a house to buy. That comes first. For the girls.”

“Why do you always do that?”

“What?”

“Act like what you want doesn't matter. Or run away. Because that's what you're doing…running away.”

“But right now what I wanted to talk about
doesn't
matter. The house does.”

Eric blew out an impatient breath. “You know, you were the one who said you wanted to talk. And I want to listen. But I can't hear you from a distance, Dinah, and that's where you keep yourself.”

“Because that's where you want me kept.” She hadn't meant that to slip out, but in part that's how she felt.

“Where the hell did you ever get that idea?” he exploded. “I mean, I have issues I'm working through. I'll admit it. I've been stuck in a place that I wasn't ready to leave. But never, ever have I wanted you at a distance. It's you who puts yourself there, who won't let yourself go. Won't let yourself move on. While I've been struggling to find a way to put Patricia in my past and get on with my life, you've been struggling to find a way to stay in the distance. Oh, you get close, move a little forward, but then you retreat. You say you want to talk then you won't. So what am I supposed to do, Dinah?”

“I don't know,” she whispered.

“You don't know? After what we've been trying to find for ourselves, that's what it comes down to? You don't know what you want me to do? Or is it that you don't know what you want?”

She looked at Robert Tucker again, and the look on his face was worry now. He feared the loss of his sale.

But Dinah feared the loss of her heart. The first true loss of her heart.

 

It was so damned frustrating trying to figure her out. He wasn't sure he could, and at this point wasn't sure he wanted to. Granted, the emotional stress of Dinah's last relationship, on top of losing the child she'd come to love, had to be overwhelming. He understood that. Those were things he wanted to help her through, help her overcome. But it was the other thing that frustrated the hell out of him. Dinah was a brilliant, accomplished woman. She had amazing credits as a nurse with skills that surpassed her credits. She had amazing credits as a chef. Plus she was a natural when it came to
search and rescue. She was also good with children in a way he'd rarely seen before. Yet she retreated. In fact, she'd almost raised it to an art form, she was so good at it. It was like she'd make her way to the front of the line then immediately remove herself to the rear of it, always on the verge of turning and running away from the line altogether.

He was positive he could see what she wanted. Earlier, when they'd walked through the house he'd decided to buy, the look on her face had been one that said home. She wanted to be there, with him, with the girls, yet when she'd realized that's what she wanted, she'd pulled away. Not just pulled, run as hard and fast as she could. Figuratively. Had they not been in an area of White Elk she didn't know, she'd have probably done her running in the literal sense.

Of course, his own situation didn't help matters any. But at least he was working on it. Trying hard to move forward. Not only for himself but for the girls. They needed more than he was giving them, and Dinah was showing him how much. Oh, not in an overt way—
Eric, do this. Eric, do that.
But she was so tuned in to the girls, so in touch with their needs and how, even at age five, they were growing up. He had to be more sensitive to that, and until Dinah had showed up, he hadn't been aware that he wasn't being responsive the way he needed to be.

“So, what do I do?” he asked Pippa an hour later. She was looking up at him none too patiently.

“Put the flour in the bowl, Daddy!
Just put it in the bowl
.”

They were baking cookies. Or at least trying. The three of them, decked out in aprons, were making a huge mess of Janice's kitchen. Pippa and Paige wanted to bake, but Dinah hadn't been available. So here he was, being the worst cook in the world. But being it with his daughters, at Dinah's suggestion. “Just do it, Eric,” she'd told him. “It's about the process, not the results.”

And it was a nice process, really. Dinah was right. The experience itself was much better than the cookies would probably be. So why didn't he know that, and why did she?

It was frustrating. He wanted to be a perfect dad. But his shortcomings were mounting. Or maybe he was simply more aware of them now. “Then what comes after the flour?” he asked, truly wishing Dinah was there. It was a wish on his mind more and more because he could see her as the perfect mom to his daughters—the only person he'd thought of that way other than Patricia. But more than being a perfect mom, he could see Dinah as the perfect wife. The wife he wanted.