“Why would I mind? The twins are Charlotte and Alexander. My girls are like little mothers whenever we’re all together. It’s kind of great to see, actually.”
“I bet it is.” She took a turn hollering for her absentee dog, and again, no sound or sight of the furry, lovable canine followed. Emotion she’d so far managed to repress kicked in good and hard, and she inhaled a large breath in an attempt to calm down before breaking into tears in front of a man whom, while kind and charming, she did not really know.
The idea of crying in Parker’s presence sent her tears scurrying for cover. Nicole disliked crying in front of anyone except for Roscoe. At first because the only time her tears seemed able to show themselves was when she was alone at home, with just her dog for company.
Now she thought this tendency had more to do with her intense desire to present a strong, calm visage to the world, no matter the circumstances. Doing so helped her feel less vulnerable to forces outside of her control, even though she knew full well that keeping her emotions under wraps wouldn’t stop her from being hurt or becoming ill again.
“Roscoe! Come here, boy!” Parker’s deep voice whipped into the night air, likely carrying much farther than hers could and startling her to renewed awareness. His hold on her arm tightened, and again, she felt that irresistible wash of comfort and absolute security.
“Thank you,” she said to Parker, “for not running over me or my dog and for going above and beyond.” Her hair was wet from the snow, her legs and feet were freezing, the wind stung her cheeks. But thanks to Parker’s close proximity and his coat, the portion of her body from hips to shoulders remained toasty warm. “You didn’t have to give me your coat or leave your kids to come out here and try to help find Roscoe. I... You’ve been very nice.”
“You’re welcome,” he said. “But trust me, I’m equally as glad I didn’t mow you or your dog over, and helping is the right thing to do. My girls are fine. They’re waiting with some friends, being watched over by plenty of adults. And frankly, what kind of man would I be if I allowed an angel’s wings to freeze?”
“Well...still. You have to be frozen.”
“Nah. I’m wearing a couple of layers, so I’m okay. Let’s just focus on getting Roscoe back to you. Where he belongs.”
By now, they’d just about reached the section of houses that stood directly across from the school, and Nicole considered calling a temporary halt to the search. For the sake of her job and the many kids and parents waiting. Yet, how could she give up when Roscoe was out here, somewhere in the dark, cold and maybe hurt—oh, she prayed, don’t let him be hurt—all by himself? She couldn’t. So that left her with one alternative.
“Can you do me a favor?” she asked, going with her gut. “I can’t stop looking for him, but I also can’t ignore that people are waiting for me in the auditorium. Could you let everyone know that I’ll reschedule the tryouts for...oh, next week, I guess? Since today is Friday.”
“Sure. I can do that for you, no problem,” Parker said instantly, making her believe he was more than ready to give up the search even if she wasn’t. Duh. Of course he was. The responsibility to locate her dog fell on her shoulders, not his. They barely knew each other.
“Thank you,” she repeated. “I really appreciate—”
“If you want my opinion, though,” Parker broke in, “I think you should come inside and change out of that costume into something warmer. When you’re all set, we can continue the search by car. We’ll be faster if we drive a loop around the entire area than if we keep walking.”
Nicole blinked, surprised and warmed through and through by Parker’s offer. “You don’t have to. I mean, you’ve already done more than enough. But changing into my normal clothes is a great idea, so I can get my coat and return yours.”
“Again, I wouldn’t have offered unless it was something I wanted to do,” Parker said as they started the trek across the street. Still arm in arm. “Besides which, my daughters will want to help. Actually, they’ll insist. And let’s face it—four pairs of eyes are far better than one.”
“Okay, I accept,” Nicole said after only the slightest of hesitations. If Parker wanted to lend a hand, then why argue? Especially since he was right. The more people on the lookout for Roscoe, the better chance she had of finding him tonight. “Redundant maybe, but thank you.”
A soft, husky rumble of a laugh emerged from his chest. “I have never been thanked so often in such a short amount of time, but you’re very welcome, Nicole. While the circumstances are less than ideal, I’m enjoying this—getting to know you—quite a bit.”
Nicole’s cheeks burned even hotter. It had been a while since a man’s comments had made her blush. So long, she couldn’t even remember the last occurrence. Of course, she hadn’t dated seriously since before her illness and had dated only a few men after. One of whom could have become a long-term partner—she’d liked him enough for that to happen, at any rate—but once she told him that she was a cancer survivor, he disappeared into thin air.
As in, she had never heard from him again. Not a phone call or an email. Not even a cowardly text message. Evidently, her cancer confession had spooked the man and sent him running for the hills. She understood why, and it wasn’t as if they’d dated for very long, but his vanishing act without so much as a goodbye hurt. It made her realize that most men would likely view her as damaged goods, and she did not need that label put on her. From anyone.
Easier to call a halt to dating altogether.
So she had, and until now, she hadn’t really missed having a man in her life. But Parker—by virtue of his kind, considerate behavior and, okay, enormous sex appeal—had seemingly ignited her onetime yearning for love. A yearning that wouldn’t do her any good at all. Unlike her deep desire for a baby, which she potentially—and with a lot of help—had the power to fulfill, wishing for a man to love her was completely useless.
She couldn’t visit a clinic to get a man, now, could she?
The simplest and sanest explanation for Parker’s attention boiled down to good manners and a normal inclination to help someone in need. Even if he was somewhat interested in her as a woman, he would change his mind the second he discovered her rocky medical history. Why wouldn’t he? Not only was Parker a widower, but if what Nicole had heard was correct, his wife had died from the same disease that could have claimed her life: breast cancer.
Yeah. He’d run for the hills, too. And she wouldn’t blame him.
So tonight, she’d accept his help and revel in his attention, and perhaps a friendship between them might develop. But no more than that. For his sake, his daughters’ sakes and even for Nicole’s. She might be pregnant. In a year’s time, she might be a mother.
Therefore, despite her body’s reactions to Parker and the slight—very slight—possibility of his interest in her, she had zero room in her life for anyone or anything else. Nicole’s entire focus needed to remain on her good health, getting pregnant and becoming a mother.
Nothing else mattered. Nothing else could matter. Simple as that.
The next morning, Parker and the girls were finishing their breakfast, and naturally, the topic of discussion was the night before. His daughters had already reenacted their version of “Daddy almost killing an angel who really turned out to be Miss Bradshaw, the best music teacher ever!” and had now moved on to their sadness that Roscoe hadn’t been located.
Not that they hadn’t tried. Once Nicole had promised those waiting in the auditorium that the tryouts would be rescheduled for