He got that a lot. He’d been fortunate to become involved with the Libertine from early in its inception as a surgical tool. Near the end of med school, his passion had shifted his interest to surgical advances being made in treating congenital defects in utero. Robert had followed suit.
Working for a robotics company, Carolyn had been one of the key design engineers on the Libertine. It was how they’d all met. He and Robert had been practically inseparable since grade school. Carolyn had changed that somewhat, but Matthew had felt more as if they’d added a third player to their team, rather than their friendship losing anything, when his best friend married the brilliant engineer.
He missed them so much. Three months and it didn’t seem real that he’d never see them again, never discuss the Libertine, or difficult cases. Never catch another football game while Carolyn laughed at their long-term rivalry of the Cowboys against the Steelers. Never again—
“You okay?” Natalie’s voice broke into Matthew’s memories.
Fighting back the hollow ache in his gut, he clenched his teeth. How had he let such depressing thoughts in tonight when he felt alive, truly alive, for the first time since before he’d gotten the call that Robert and Carolyn’s plane had gone down?
“Just got lost in thought.” He flashed a smile that wasn’t as real as he’d like, but there wasn’t enough light that she’d likely be able to tell. “How old do you think I am?”
She glanced his way a few moments, making him wonder if perhaps she saw better in the low light than he’d given her credit for, but she seemed to make the decision not to push. Maybe because she didn’t want to know what he’d really been thinking about.
“Uh-uh.” Her smile was wide, bright, not so over-the-top as to come across as completely fake. “I’m not guessing your age. If I go too high you might be offended. If I go too low, you’ll accuse me of robbing the cradle.”
Her voice was light, but her grip on his hand had tightened, offering a comfort he soaked up and was amazed at how much better her smile and touch left him feeling.
He chuckled. “No chance you robbed the cradle, Natalie. That would be me. I’m probably a good ten years older than you.”
“I seriously doubt it.” She told him her age.
“Eight years older,” he corrected. “I’m the one who robbed the cradle, it seems.”
“Eight years isn’t that much,” she assured. “You’re barely into your forties.”
A memory of his fortieth birthday, spent with Robert and Carolyn, popped into his head. They’d rented out their favorite restaurant’s back room, invited a ton of mutual friends and acquaintances and surprised him with a birthday bash.
“Hey—you okay?” she asked again.
Why had his friends popped back into his head so quickly when he’d just scolded himself for letting them in on a night meant to drown them out?
His gaze cut to Natalie. Why did he find himself wanting to tell her about them?
“You quit walking,” she pointed out. “And you’re squeezing my hand as if you’re afraid if you let go the wind might carry me out to sea.”
Matthew forced his fingers to pry loose from hers, raked them through his hair. “Sorry.”
“That sensitive about your age, huh? I’ll keep that in mind and be sure not to make any more age references.”
Pushing thoughts of his friends from his mind yet again, Matthew shook his head and gave in to Natalie’s teasing. “I’ve no problem with being called an old man.”
“Old man?” Natalie laughed, took his hand back into hers and gave him a little squeeze. “You aren’t an old man. Admittedly, it’s a bit kinky, but I’d be happy to oblige if that’s what you want me to call you.”
His smile was real. “As long as you’re calling me, I won’t complain.”
Her gaze searched his. “For the rest of the weekend, right?”
“Right,” Matthew agreed, but suddenly found it difficult to keep his smile in place. “For the next three days, I’m all yours.”
Then he’d fly back to Memphis, stay at his mother’s for a night, then he and Carrie would drive back to Boston because the little girl was terrified of the thought of getting on a plane, and he hadn’t forced the issue.
Back to trying to figure out life without Robert and Carolyn.
Back to him struggling to raise their precious daughter in a way that wouldn’t disappoint them, which seemed impossible for a sworn bachelor who still couldn’t even put Carrie’s hair up without missing handfuls of it from the bun.
Too bad the position in Memphis hadn’t worked out so his family would be close to shower Carrie in their love and guide him in the right direction as he got this parenting thing all wrong time and again.
What did he know about raising a kid?
Nothing. His friends had been foolish leaving Carrie’s upbringing to him. Robert had known Matthew had no plans to marry or have children. Truly, they couldn’t have chosen a worse guardian for Carrie.
“Your hand is getting tight again,” Natalie warned.
He loosened his hold. “Sorry.”
“Want to talk about whatever keeps bothering you?”
He couldn’t blame Natalie for asking. She’d let it go more than once, but he kept going back to places he didn’t need to let his brain go.
“It’s not important.” Which was a lie. Everything about Robert and Carolyn was important. How he was going to handle fatherhood was important. Part of him wanted to tell Natalie, to spill everything out to her, to tell her what a screw-up step-in parent he’d been so far and that he wished he could give Carrie to a couple who knew what they were doing so the kid wouldn’t turn out messed up. But losing his best friends, and his failed parenthood, weren’t decent conversation for a three-day affair.
For the next three days, he was just Matthew. The dedicated heart surgeon and researcher, the fun-loving man, the devoted short-term lover.
NATALIE MADE IT to breakfast just before the hotel wait staff cleared the buffet trays.
Having gone earlier to his hotel room to shower, Matthew had arrived before her and was at a table with two other men and a woman, eating breakfast. Wearing his khaki pants and blue button-up shirt with the sleeves folded to mid-forearm, a smile on his handsome face, he stole her breath.
She could hardly believe she’d had sex with him. Hot, needy, carnal sex.
Natalie lingered, overfilling her plate with sliced fruit. There was no reason she couldn’t join Matthew and the others at his table, but she procrastinated, toying with toasting a slice of wheat bread.
She’d seen and touched every part of his body. With her hands, her mouth. They’d done things that just recalling was enough to make her blush and wonder who that wanton woman in bed with him had been. After all that, was she really hesitating to sit down beside him to eat breakfast?
When she’d finally gotten her plate and headed in his direction, Matthew rose from his chair.
“There’s a seat at our table, Natalie. Join us.”
He’d made it easy. As if he were inviting an old friend or colleague to join his table. No big deal. Only, when their