Capturing the Single Dad’s Heart (13 page)

Erin smiled. ‘Very inventive, Mr Townsend.'

‘Dance with me, Erin. I want to hold you,' he said softly, opening his arms.

She stepped forward, putting her arms round him, and let him put one of the earphones into her left ear. He put the other earphone into his right ear, then wrapped his arms round her.

‘Close your eyes,' he said, ‘and pretend we're on a real dance floor.'

She recognised the song as soon as the piano started playing; he'd picked one of the most romantic songs she knew. And the lyrics brought tears to her eyes. Had he chosen it because it was a nice tune, or because he meant the words and wasn't quite sure how to say them to her?

Did he want to make her happy, and make her dreams come true?

Because she was pretty sure that was how she felt about him, too.

Still with her eyes closed, and her cheek pressed against his, she swayed with him to the music. And when he moved to kiss the corner of her mouth, she moved too so that he could kiss her properly—warm and sweet and poignant.

But then a passing teenager catcalled them.

And Erin remembered where they were: in the park opposite the hospital. Where anyone they knew could have gone for a lunchtime stroll and seen them.

She pulled away. ‘I guess we'd better wait until it's a proper nightclub.'

‘I guess,' Nate said, and his eyes were full of longing.

‘Next time, the music ought to be “Somewhere” from
West Side Story
,' she said wryly.

He sang the first few bars of the song, and her eyes widened. ‘I didn't know you could sing that well. I'm impressed.'

‘Don't be. I only know it because it was on a TV talent show programme and Cait loved it.'

She stroked his face. ‘You still have a lovely voice. Don't do yourself down.'

‘We'll get our somewhere. Some day,' he said.

‘But for now we need to go back to work,' she said.

‘And I can't even hold your hand across the park, because we'll be spotted and the hospital rumour mill will start.' He sighed. ‘I guess we were lucky that it was teenagers who saw us dancing together, and not somebody from work.'

‘This is hard,' Erin said. ‘Half of me wants to go public. And half of me is scared it's going to go wrong.'

‘Me, too,' he admitted. ‘But Caitlin likes you.'

‘As a friend. Being your girlfriend is a different thing,' she said. ‘Especially given the way things are with her mum, right now. We can't rock the boat yet. Give it a little more time.'

‘I know you're right,' he said. ‘But I'm looking forward to our someday.'

‘We just have to be inventive,' she said. ‘Like your impromptu nightclub.'

* * *

Later in the week, Erin texted Nate.

How do you feel about some late-night cinema?

Love to, but I can't leave Cait on her own,
he replied.

You don't have to. Welcome to the twenty-first century.

He called her. ‘Explain.'

‘We use technology,' she said. ‘We can watch a film together, but we'll be in different houses.'

‘Ah—using laptops,' he said, catching on quickly, ‘so we're watching the same films.'

‘And we can use video calling at the same time, so we can talk to each other during the film.'

‘It isn't quite the same as sitting in the back row, holding hands,' he pointed out.

‘Cinema substitute. Like your nightclub,' she said.

‘Got you.'

They arranged to watch a film together at eleven p.m. that Sunday night.

‘So, just to get this straight,' Nate said on screen, ‘we're both sitting on the sofa and we're going to watch the same film.'

‘Snuggled up with a throw,' Erin said. ‘Which is the nearest we get to snuggling up with each other.'

‘No throw, here. Would a cushion be an acceptable substitute?'

She laughed. ‘Squishy in the middle? Yeah.'

Being warm and snuggly under a throw wasn't really a good substitute for curling up on the sofa together, but until they were ready to go public it was the best they could do.

‘This is a bit like
Pillow Talk
,' Nate said.

‘Hardly,' she scoffed. ‘Apart from the fact we're not using a shared phone line and I know who you are instead of thinking you're this lovely, charming stranger, I'm not a repressed interior decorator. Plus you don't have a string of floozies—or do you?'

‘No.' He groaned. ‘Never argue films with someone who clearly had a misspent yout—' He stopped abruptly, looking horrified. ‘Sorry. I didn't mean that.'

‘I know,' she said, equally softly. ‘Actually, that's when I used to watch loads of films, day and night—and that was what got me through the worst bits. I wasn't picky about it; I just watched whatever was on satellite TV, so I saw everything from nineteen-thirties horror films through to musicals and action films.'

‘I'm glad you had something to help.' He sighed. ‘I wish I was with you right now, Erin. I really want to hold you.'

‘Me, too—but at least we have video calling. If we'd been back in the fifties, with
Pillow Talk
, you're right—we would've been forced to use a party telephone line and all the neighbours would've been listening in to our conversation.'

‘Yeah.'

‘Now stop worrying about it and we'll watch the film together.'

It was an old one but it was one of Erin's favourite romcoms. She loved the scene where the hero declared himself at midnight on New Year's Eve, but it made her wonder: would she and Nate ever be able to declare how they felt to each other?

As if he'd picked up on her wistfulness, he said, ‘Maybe we can snatch a day's annual leave and spend a day together—dating like normal people.'

‘Sounds good,' she said.

‘How does next Friday sound? So, instead of having breakfast before work, we actually get to go somewhere together?'

‘Sounds perfect,' she said. ‘Provided we can arrange the off-duty, it's a date.'

‘Our first. Well, first proper date,' he amended.

And maybe one day they'd have a proper cinema date, holding hands in the back row. ‘I'm looking forward to it,' she said. ‘Night, Nate. Sweet dreams.'

‘You, too,' he said, and blew her a kiss.

CHAPTER NINE

T
HE
 
OFF
-
DUTY
WORKED
out just fine; so Nate and Erin had Friday off.

A whole day to spend together. Doing whatever they wanted. Far enough away from the hospital or anyone who knew them so they could hold hands and kiss in public without being spotted.

A normal date.

But, even though Nate had been longing for this, guilt nagged at him. He was supposed to be spending his time off with his daughter—and yet here he was, putting himself first.

Clearly the guilt showed in his face, because Erin raised an eyebrow when she saw him at the Tube™ station. ‘Problem?'

‘Not exactly,' he hedged.

‘Spill,' she said.

The woman who didn't pull her punches. Who told things exactly like they were. Who expected the same from him. ‘I feel pretty guilty about this,' he admitted.

‘Because you ought to be saving your days off to spend with Caitlin?' she asked.

Typical Erin to get straight to the root of the problem. ‘Yes.'

‘Single parents are allowed to have a life of their own, too, you know. It's fine,' she said softly, and brushed her mouth against his.

Desire spun through him. Everything about this woman attracted him. Not just the way she looked: he liked her intelligence, her kindness, her calmness. And he was more than halfway to being head over heels in love with her. Not that he was going to tell her. It was still relatively early days, and he knew she had just as much emotional baggage to deal with as he did. The last thing he wanted to do was to scare her away by being too intense.

‘I guess you're right,' he said instead.

She gave him a clenched-fist salute and a seriously sassy grin. ‘Yes. The man admits it.'

He laughed, then, and tangled his fingers through hers. ‘Maybe we should think about telling Caitlin about us.'

‘Do you think she'll be OK about it?'

‘I don't know how she'll react,' he admitted. ‘Though I do know she likes you. A lot,' he added. ‘She's always talking about you. In a nice way.'

‘I like her, too. A lot.'

He coughed.

She grinned. ‘Are you fishing for compliments, Mr Townsend?'

‘Yup. Shamelessly.'

She kissed him again. ‘I like you, too. A lot.'

‘Ditto.'

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Not good enough.'

‘I like you a lot,' he said. ‘More than I've liked anyone for a very long time.'

‘Ditto,' she said.

‘If I said to you that that wasn't good enough, you'd just laugh at me.'

‘Yup.' She smiled. ‘Stop worrying, Nate. And let's wait a little longer before we tell Caitlin. Let's think about the best way to tell her so she knows that, whatever happens between you and me, you'll always love her and she'll always be friends with me.'

‘Yes. It's finding the right words that's the problem.'

‘They'll be there when the time's right,' she said. ‘That's one of Rachel's sayings.'

‘Along with “Never trouble trouble, till trouble troubles you”,' he said. ‘I remember you telling me once.' He drew her closer to him. ‘I can't believe we're actually going on a proper date.'

‘Are you saying our breakfasts and our sneaky walks in the park at lunchtime and our cinema session using video calling weren't proper dates?' she teased.

He laughed. ‘You know what I mean. We're actually doing something that normal couples do.'

‘We're doing OK,' she said. ‘Unconventional's working for us.'

‘True.'

They headed for the British Museum where he'd booked tickets for the exhibition they both wanted to see, and wandered hand in hand round the displays.

‘Oh, I love this. It's like a boar's head,' Erin said, stopping by one case. She read the display notes quickly. ‘It's a carnyx—an ancient war-horn from Scotland, used to terrify their enemies. And look—you can listen to someone playing a replica.' She picked up the headphones and pressed the buttons. ‘Yep. I think this would scare me, hearing this booming across the glens.'

Nate didn't think that anything would scare Erin. She faced things head-on. But he dutifully listened to the recording of the carnyx.

Erin was delighted by the intricate patterns in the shields and the stonework. When they wandered over to the display of golden torcs, he looked at her. ‘I can imagine you wearing one of those. A Celtic warrior queen.'

‘Shouldn't a Celtic warrior queen have red hair?'

‘Yours is the colour of ripe corn—and I love these wild curls.' He twined the end of one soft curl round his finger. ‘I understand why you have to wear it tied back at work, but I'd love to see your hair loose some time.'

She wrinkled her nose. ‘It's not great, you know. It just goes mad and frizzy.'

He wanted to make the rest of her feel mad and frizzy, too—but he knew he needed to take things at her pace. ‘You'd still look beautiful wearing one of these torcs. Wise and regal, then.'

She bowed her head in acknowledgement. ‘Why, thank you.'

When they reached the end of the exhibition, she took him in search of the Lewis Chessmen. ‘I've always loved these. Mikey bought me a full-sized replica set for my twenty-first birthday.'

‘I didn't know you played chess.'

‘I learned after Mikey's accident. It helped both of us, I think.'

‘Your brother sounds like an amazing guy.'

‘He is.' She paused. ‘Maybe you could meet him some time.'

‘Have you told him about me?'

She nodded.

‘And?'

‘He likes the sound of you—but he also knows you're not going to meet him and Louisa, his fiancée, until I'm ready.'

Was she ready to introduce him to her closest family? Nate wondered. And he hadn't asked Erin to meet anyone in his family other than Caitlin. Maybe it was time to introduce her to his mother—though he was pretty sure that Sara had worked out the situation for herself already.

As if Erin guessed what he was thinking, she said softly, ‘I don't think we're quite ready to go public yet.'

Maybe she was right. They still didn't have the right words.

‘Let's go and have lunch,' she suggested.

‘Good idea.' He let her switch the subject and chatter about museums while they ate, and he was about to order coffee when she said, ‘How about coffee at my place?'

‘I'd like that. Thanks.'

They walked hand in hand from the Tube™ station back to Erin's flat. When she'd made coffee, she sat down next to him on the sofa and Nate scooped her onto his lap. ‘Is this OK?' he checked, wanting to be close to her but wanting to keep things at a pace where she was comfortable.

‘Very OK.' She smiled and kissed him.

The touch of her mouth against his made him feel as if all his senses had gone into overdrive. He wrapped his arms round her and kissed her back; but when he broke the kiss, he realised that his hands had slid underneath the hem of her top. Too much, too soon.

‘Sorry.' He moved his hands away, even though he missed the warmth and smoothness of her skin against his palms.

She stroked his face. ‘I wasn't saying no, Nate.'

He went very still. Was she suggesting...?

‘But you're right about something,' she continued. ‘My sofa isn't a good place to do this.'

No, he was definitely jumping the gun. Clearly she wanted him to stop.

He was about to scoop her back off his lap when she said quietly, ‘Maybe we need to move to my bedroom.'

He stared at her, his heart pounding. ‘Are you saying...?'

She nodded.

‘Are you sure about this?' he checked.

‘I'm sure.' Her eyes looked huge and full of sincerity. ‘Completely sure.'

‘But—' His throat dried. ‘I don't have any protection with me.'

‘I do.'

His surprise must have shown on his face because she said, ‘I bought condoms last night.'

So she'd planned this? For a moment, he couldn't breathe. Couldn't think straight. Then he kissed her, very gently. ‘Just so you know,' he said, ‘if you change your mind at any point, that's totally fine. If you need me to stop at any point, even if you think it's too late, just tell me and I'll stop immediately.'

Her eyes filmed with tears. ‘Thank you. I know you're not Andrew and I trust you. But it's nice that you...' Her breath caught. ‘That you understand.'

‘I do. And you have no idea how good it makes me feel that you trust me. Just as I trust you.' He wanted to say a different word there, but he didn't want to push her. To rush her. To scare her away. ‘Make love with me, Erin.'

‘What a very good idea, Mr Townsend.' She slid off his lap and he stood up, letting her lead him to her room.

The walls were cream, the curtains were burgundy—but best of all was the wide double bed with fairy lights wound round the wrought-iron frame.

‘Now I know what you meant about interesting lighting. That's
so
girly,' he said with a grin.

‘Funny you should say that, with me being a girl.'

‘You're not a girl,' he corrected. ‘You're all woman. And you're gorgeous, inside and out.'

She blushed. ‘Nice line.'

‘No line. It's how I feel.' His gaze held hers. ‘I already told you, I like you a lot.'

‘Ditto.'

‘And any time you need me to stop,' he repeated, ‘we stop.'

‘No stopping,' she said, went over to the window and closed the curtains. Then she switched on the fairy lights. ‘Still think they're girly?'

‘Yup. But they're sexy, too.' He waited a beat. ‘Like you.'

‘Well, hey.' She brushed her mouth against his, then undid the top button of his shirt.

Then he realised that her fingers were actually shaking.

He drew her hands to his mouth and kissed her fingers. ‘You OK?'

‘Nervous,' she admitted.

‘Me, too.' He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘But this is you and me. It's going to be just fine.'

For a moment, she looked unsure. But then she lifted her chin and finished unbuttoning his shirt. She tugged the soft cotton free from the waistband of his trousers, then slid the garment from his shoulders. ‘Nice pecs, Mr Townsend.'

‘Why, thank you, Dr Leyton. I value your personal opinion as much as your professional opinion.' He held her gaze. ‘My turn?'

‘I think so.' She lifted her arms to make it easier for him to remove her top.

He drew the tip of his forefinger around the lacy outline of her bra. ‘Your skin's so soft, Erin.' And touching wasn't enough. He dipped his head and kissed all along the line of her collarbone. When she caught her breath, he held back again. ‘OK?' he checked.

‘Very OK,' she said. Her voice was shaky, and he really wasn't sure about this until she added, ‘I'm kind of looking forward to those clever surgeon's hands touching me.'

‘Oh, are you, now?' He stole another kiss, and removed her bra one-handedly. ‘Clever enough for you?'

‘Showing off, a tad,' she said, and removed his trousers.

The touch of her fingers against his skin sent desire lancing through him. ‘How about this?' he asked, and removed her jeans, stroking every centimetre of skin he uncovered.

‘Better,' she said, and he was gratified to hear the huskiness in her voice.

He kissed her lightly. ‘Protection,' he said. ‘And then I'm all yours. Do what you will with me.'

She took a packet of condoms from her bedside drawer and handed it to him.

‘I think,' he said, ‘I'd like to see how clever those neurologist's hands of yours are.'

‘Hmm,' she said. ‘That sounds like a challenge.'

‘It is.'

He wasn't sure which of them removed the last bits of each other's clothing, but then he'd pushed her duvet aside and was lying against her pillows, and she was kneeling beside him.

He took a condom from the packet and handed it to her. ‘You're in control,' he said, and grasped the wrought-iron headboard between the fairy lights.

She brushed her mouth against his. ‘Thank you. For understanding.'

‘Any time.' And how he loved her for being brave enough to get past the vulnerability. For being brave enough to trust him.

She ripped open the foil packet and eased the condom over his penis. And then she straddled him. When she slid her hand round his shaft and positioned him against her entrance, he had to grip the headboard that little bit more tightly. And then slowly, gently, she lowered herself onto him.

He desperately wanted to wrap his arms round her and hold her close, but he needed her to trust him completely. So he lay still, letting her set the pace. And he was rewarded by seeing the confidence grow in her face as she moved over him.

Just as he felt his climax starting to bubble through him, she peeled his fingers off the headboard; in response, he sat up and wrapped his arms round her, pushing deep into her at the same time.

She jammed her mouth over his, and he felt her body surge against his, pushing him into his own climax.

And he'd never, ever had such a feeling of sweetness before.

After he'd dealt with the condom, he climbed back into bed beside her, wrapped her in his arms and pulled the duvet over them.

‘Erin. I lo—'

Before he could finish the sentence, she pressed her forefinger against his lips. ‘Don't say it, Nate.'

Because she didn't feel the same, and she didn't want to let him down by admitting it?

As if she guessed what he was thinking, she said, ‘Because it's too soon, not because I don't feel the same way about you. Those particular words... I don't really trust them.'