“Family trait,” Beau said from behind her, startling her again so that she jumped. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “Cassie, you’re going to have to stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” she asked, rubbing her hands up and down her arms, vividly aware of how close he was to her and how her traitorous body responded every time he touched her.
“Jumping every time I come near you,” he said quietly, taking her by the shoulders and gently turning her to face him. “Cassie.” His gaze scanned her face and she sensed that he could see the fear and vulnerability in her eyes. Tenderly, he squeezed her shoulders. “I don’t know what on earth you’ve heard about me, but clearly it must be something pretty awful to make you nearly jump out of your shoes every time I come near you.”
“No, it’s…not that,” she lied, and he smiled.
“Cassie. I know how people talk. They’ve gossiped about me my whole life. And I know what they say,” he added softly, making her heart ache for the pain that knowledge had to bring. “Remember, I grew up here, just like you, and I know how the gossip vines work. But I would think you’d be the last person in the world to believe gossip.”
He had her there. And had managed to make her feel small and ridiculous simply because he was absolutely right. She had grown up amid gossip and she knew better. And yet, she’d allowed herself to judge him simply from things she’d heard about him, not from her own experiences.
And just that afternoon hadn’t the kids made assumptions about Sofie without really knowing the truth, assumptions that had hurt the young child’s feelings? How on earth could Cassie do the same to the man who’d promised to help her daughter?
She couldn’t, she realized—not in good conscience. Or she would be just as wrong as the kids at school had been today.
“Cassie, I’m sure you’ve heard some wild stories about me and women, but all I ask is that before you make up your mind about me, you judge me for yourself, by your own experiences and not by rumors or innuendo.” Watching her carefully, Beau gently lifted her chin. “Do you think you can do that?”
She forced herself to meet his gaze, to look into his eyes and see the emotions swirling there. And she remembered all the rumors she’d heard about his womanizing. She wasn’t entirely sure now how true or accurate they’d been, and it shamed her to think she might have misjudged him just as her own daughter had been misjudged.
“Yes. Yes, of course,” she assured him.
She dared to glance up at him again and her mouth went dry when she looked at his mouth. Oh, Lord, that mouth. It looked soft and warm and very…talented. That was the only word she could think of.
He was standing directly in front of her, closer than any man had been in a very long time. So close she could feel the warmth of his body heat, smell the scent that danced along his skin. It was such a mesmerizing, masculine scent it was almost dizzying. She had a sudden urge to stand on tiptoe and bury her face in his neck, to simply inhale that incredibly wonderful maleness.
Then there were his eyes, she thought dreamily. Gorgeous and blue, they reflected so many things, she realized now. Emotions she’d not thought him capable of simply because she’d prejudged and perhaps misjudged him based rumor and gossip.
Guilt landed like a hammer and Cassie realized just how unfair she’d been to Beau. He had been nothing but kind to her and her daughter. Especially her daughter. And for that alone he deserved her thanks, her gratitude and more importantly, he deserved to be treated fairly and with respect. She made a silent vow to do better; to be better and more fair. And most importantly, to give him a chance without any preconceived notions on her part.
“Dr. Bradford—”
“Beau,” he corrected with a smile. “Only my patients call me Dr. Bradford and you’re too old to be one of my patients.”
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