His Perfect Woman (Harlequin Superromance) (16 page)

“Maybe.”

“No, not maybe. God's proved that to both of us by healing you.”

She blinked once and sniffled. “Then why not heal Mom?”

Hal hesitated a long moment. How many times had he asked himself that question. “Maybe God thought the angels needed a new soprano. Your mama did love to sing.”

She tried to smile and the effort was painful to watch. A sad attempt at pride he recognized too well.

“I've never thought of it that way…Dad.” She shoved herself up from the table. “I'll help you p-pack.”

“It's done.”

“Oh.” She sat down in the chair again. “Oh, well…okay.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Mel, about Saturday. Please come. I can't imagine getting married without my daughter there. And I know it's unusual, and probably not something you want to do under the circumstances, but instead of a best man, I'd like you to be my witness, to stand up with me and…show your support.”

“I can't do that.” She pressed her fingers to her mouth as though to hold back a sob and inhaled deeply. “I couldn't do that to M-Mom.”

“What about what you're doing to me?” Hal sat there a long moment. “Never mind,” he murmured finally. “You and your mother were very close, and after everything you've been through with your cancer, you feel even closer. I understand that. But would you have wanted her to deny love?”

He got to his feet and scooted the chair back into position beneath the table, closing the distance between them. He leaned over and kissed her head, rubbing her shoulder gently. “Mel, this isn't goodbye. It's a new beginning. And whether you realize it or not, Ellen, the baby and I want you along for the ride.”

Melissa didn't respond. Couldn't with the lump clogging her throat.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Silent, her father walked out of the kitchen, the door swinging back and forth behind him the way it always had.

Only this time it
was
different. The problem with beginnings was that there was an ending preceding them. She heard the front door shut, her dad's cruiser start, its powerful engine roar as it pulled away. The house was silent; she was alone. And she didn't want to be.

“Oh,
Mom
…” The sobs she'd held back tore out of her chest. She wanted to feel again and hated Bryan because he made her feel too much. Made her want more than was possible. “Mom,
please
…” She wrapped her arms around her stomach, hugging herself tight because there wasn't anyone else there to do it. “I need you
so much
. I miss you so much. Sing a song for me.”

 

B
RYAN GLARED
down at the file in front of him, unseeing.

“What's got your shorts in a knot?” Janice entered his office and dropped two files on his desk. “Mrs. Case is here. She just peed on a stick and it's positive. Want me to go over the basics and refer her to Dr. Amos?”

“Sure…thanks, Janice.”

“Uh-huh. Now tell me what a foot doctor is going to do to help a pregnant woman?”

Pulled from his brooding, he blinked. “Huh?”

“You just told me to send a pregnant woman to a foot doctor.”

He sat forward in his chair and rubbed his hands over his face roughly. “Sorry. I didn't sleep much last night and it's catching up with me.”

Janice helped herself to one of the seats across from his desk. “Looks like Melissa is having the same problem today.” She glared at him. “You mess up the best office help in here since your grandfather retired, and I'll kick your butt from here to his house so he can ream you out himself.” She wagged a finger at him. “Are you messin' with that sweet girl?”

“No.” He glared right back. “Melissa has made it perfectly clear she wants nothing to do with me.”

“So you
tried?
What am I asking? Of course you did.” Janice's disgust changed to a snicker. “Well, now ain't that a first. Don't think I've ever heard a single story about a woman turning you
down.
We need to mark this on the calendar. Where's a pen?”

“Did you need something?” His tone must have been a good indication of his mood because Janice got to her feet and ambled over to the door.

“You know, maybe I do have one more thing to say.”

He bit back a groan. “What?”

“Heard a little while ago that Hal York moved in next door. Saw him carrying a box myself. Must be hard for Melissa to be alone all of a sudden after twenty-some years in that house there together.”

“And your point is?”

“Melissa's not happy about her daddy surprising her with his marriage. Told me she wasn't going to the wedding. I think
a date by her side would change her mind. Boost her confidence.”

He leaned back in the chair and rubbed the bristle he'd forgotten to shave from his jaw. “Didn't you just tell me to leave her alone?”

“Yes, but I also didn't indicate you should be her date. You got any friends?”

“Janice.”

“I suppose you could escort her to her daddy's wedding and
then
leave her alone. If anything would set her daddy on end, it would be seeing you beside his little girl.”

Ah, now the truth came out. “And you want the chief set on end because…?”

Janice lifted her chin with a sniff. “The chief of police is gettin' married, has attended our church for years and he doesn't ask my Roger to officiate the ceremony? That's not nice.”

He grinned, pretty sure the chief hadn't asked because of Ellen's delicate circumstances. “I'd say Hal's been friends with the judge a long time, too. Maybe he asked because of that?”

The older woman crossed her arms over her ample chest. “I'm just saying he should've asked Roger to officiate or else given him a reason why not. And if I were you, I wouldn't be making fun and teasing me when your ego looks to have taken a blow. You haven't said two words to Melissa all day.”

“I haven't exactly heard her saying two words to me.”

She shook her head at him. “But you're a man, and everyone knows men are typically at fault.”

Bryan shook his head and waited until the R.N. left his office before he gave in and laughed. Maybe Janice had a point. Melissa might bluster up to the last second about not
attending, but she'd go to the wedding. No way would she miss it. It wasn't in her to hurt her father that way.

But like Janice said, it didn't mean Melissa wouldn't want to ruffle her father's feathers. After all, who wanted to attend a wedding alone?

 

T
HE REST OF THE WEEK
crawled by at a snail's pace, and September arrived with blessedly cooler temps.

Melissa went about her business and endured Bryan's questioning stares as best she could, attempting to do the same with the women parading through the office, but not succeeding. Bryan was a good doctor, but she and Janice both rolled their eyes at the number of women entering the reception area for their appointments dressed in skimpy outfits, full makeup and healthy smiles—all to gain Bryan's handsome, doctorly attention.

Attention she didn't want
. So why was she sick every time one of those women came in? And why did she come up with excuses to walk by the exam rooms and make sure Janice was present and accounted for?

Five o'clock rolled around, the last of Bryan's fan club was gone, and she couldn't wait to go home even though she had nothing to go home to. Maybe she should check into getting a pet?

“Can you stay tonight? We need to finalize things for the kickoff next week.”

Melissa kept her back to Bryan and scrunched her face up in a grimace. “I, um, can't. Stay here, that is. I have to… I'll work on it at home.”

“Melissa—” Bryan stepped into the small area on her side of the counter, his large frame taking up all the extra space. “Stay. I won't kiss you unless you want me to.”

Want him to?
“That won't happen.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about, do you?”

 

“Y
OU LOOK LIKE
a woman with a secret,” Ashley murmured in her ear when Melissa bent close to kiss Issy's head. “Give it up.”

“Sorry, no secret.”

“Then why the red face?” her friend pressed.

“It's anxiety over…today.”

“Hmm. About the wedding or what your dad's going to say when he stops hovering over Ellen long enough to realize Bryan is your
date?
”

“It's not a date. We were both coming to the wedding and since we left the office at the same time, we decided to ride together.”

“Is that what they're calling it these days? Then just why did I have to loan you a dress?”

Despite her willing it away, heat suffused her face. How on earth could she have fallen asleep in Bryan's arms? She didn't even remember him sitting on the couch beside her! “I, um, didn't have time to shop.” She glanced at Ashley and quickly away. “Besides, I've always wanted an excuse to borrow this dress.”

“It's two sizes too big for you.”

“But she still looks gorgeous in it, doesn't she, Joe?” Bryan moved to her side and smiled down at her, the grin predatory.

Melissa looked away, flushing, her body's instant response making her want to groan. “I think I'm going to go see—”

“Absolutely,” Joe agreed with a nod, sliding his arm around his wife's shoulder and pulling her close. “You made your old man proud, Mel. He was barking orders left and right, worrying you wouldn't show.”

“What changed your mind?” Ashley asked softly. “When you didn't come to the rehearsal last night I wondered if you'd show up this morning.”

Melissa lifted her shoulder in a self-conscious shrug, ignoring Bryan's sparkling eyes and the fact Ashley's comment about him being her date had hit home. Had she hoped by arriving with Bryan her dad would call things off? “I realized it was something my mom would've wanted me to do, that's all.”

On the patio her dad held Ellen close, the small wedding cake in front of them ready to be cut and the photographer hovering nearby.

“So,” Joe murmured when silence followed her words, “what's this I hear about you spending the night with Bryan?”

A
SHLEY'S HEAD SWUNG
around with the speed of a rocket, her mouth agape. “
That's
why you needed a dress? You spent the night with Bryan?”

Melissa glared at Joe, still refusing to look at the man next to her or acknowledge Bryan's datelike behavior. “I fell asleep on Bryan's
couch
after working on the fund-raiser, which you are expected to attend.”

“Don't even attempt to change the subject.” Ashley looked at Bryan, her stare hard and unflinching. “And
you
just remember what I said.”

“What did you say?” Melissa questioned. “What are you talking about?”

“May I have your attention, please? The bride and groom are going to have their first dance, and then at the bride's request, there will be a special dance for the groom and his daughter.”

A special
what?
Her stomach fell to her knees. Sitting behind her father with her back to the crowd while he promised to love another woman besides her mother was one thing, but dancing with him with everyone watching? Pretending she was here because she wanted to be?

Music began to play and Melissa turned in her seat, intending to leave while she could. A firm hand grasped her
arm and held her in place. Bryan. She knew his touch.
A little too well now.

“Don't embarrass your father by stalking out. Lift your chin, smile and do whatever you have to do to get through the dance. Then I'll take you home.”

Her dad and Ellen danced for the photographer and the small crowd of invited guests. Then it was her turn. Bryan escorted her onto the patio and placed her hand in her dad's, then gallantly asked Ellen to dance. Bryan led the woman in a modified waltz, but Ellen's gaze stayed on her, worried, when she and her father stood there unmoving.

“Remember when you used to put your feet on top of mine and we'd dance?”

Like it was yesterday. “Vaguely.”

“Come on, Mel. For old time's sake?”

She allowed him to pull her close and give her a hug. Melissa closed her eyes and relished the moment, heard the photographer snapping away. Melissa concentrated on putting her feet in the proper place, tried to make peace with herself and her feelings and enjoyed the feel of her father's protective arms.

This would probably be the last dance she ever got to share with him. She'd best enjoy it while it lasted.

 

T
HE BASKETBALL SHOOT-OUT
, cook-off and festival would've ended on a good note if not for her father and his on-duty officers being called away for yet another break-in. The fall weather was perfect and cooperative, the deep rich colors of the decorations vibrant and beautiful amid the oranges and reds and yellows of the maples planted throughout the park.

Melissa smiled wearily at Nathan when he moseyed over to where she sat beneath a shade tree that repeatedly pelted
her with falling leaves, and tried to squelch the awareness she felt when Bryan noticed Nathan's presence.

“Looks like another winner for you, Mel.”

“Not for me, for all of us. The clinic is definitely needed.”

Nathan grabbed a chair from nearby and twisted it around to straddle it, leaning his arms across the back. “Hey, I've been giving this a lot of thought and—”

“Looks like you're up at the dunking booth, Nate.” Bryan smiled. “Better not be late or Mrs. H. will give you grief about being tardy.”

Nathan didn't look pleased by the interruption—or Bryan's shortened version of his name. Obviously reluctant, he got to his feet. “Mel, can we talk later? Maybe grab some coffee?”

“Um…”

“She'll be busy.”

She rolled her eyes at Bryan before smiling at Nathan. “Sure.” Ignoring Bryan's glare, she watched Nathan walk away, her mind comparing the officer's dark coloring to Bryan's. Rubbing her head, she studiously marked Nathan's name off the list in front of her and noted a volunteer switch was due at the concession stand where the food from this morning's cook-off was being sold.

Solid hands landed on her tense shoulders and began to rub. “Bryan…” That was all she could get past her lips because she had to clamp them closed to hold in a moan.

“The look on your face,” Bryan drawled huskily. His breath hit her ear and made a shiver race down her spine. “That's a look I could easily get addicted to.” His lips brushed her temple. “I liked holding you last night.”

She couldn't believe she'd done it again. “I'm so sorry I fell asleep on your couch. I guess the late hours are getting to
me.” She knew better than to ask why he hadn't woken her up.

“I didn't mind.”

Uh-huh. “Still i-it won't happen again.”

“I hope it does.”

“Bryan.”

“Have you dreamed of us yet, Melissa? Thought about what would've happened if you'd let me keep touching you that day by the river?”

She lost the ability to breathe, her lashes too heavy to hold up. “No. Now go away. I'm working.”

A rich, masculine chuckle rumbled out of his chest. “So you'll sleep in my arms, accept my massage but shoot down my questions?”

“Hush, Bryan, please? And you shouldn't touch me like that,” she said, shrugging her shoulders ineffectively to loosen his hold. “People will talk even more.”

“I've dreamed about us. Actually, I think about that day and what could've happened all the time. When I bit your neck right here—” his fingers pressed a particular area, his touch equivalent to a lightning strike “—you tightened your legs around me and almost made me—”

“Bryan!”

“I backed off to give you time to adjust to being on your own, but I haven't given up. Have you figured that out yet?”

She had. But she still didn't know what to do about it. If she gave in to Bryan and they made love—then what? He'd move on, that much she knew for sure. It was inevitable. But part of her, the part practically panting at the mere touch of his hands on her shoulders, begged to see if Bryan could get her through her first experience with sex post-mastectomy. Wanted to know, just once, if it would be as un
believable as it was in her dreams, as amazing as it had been in the park.

Bryan's hands slowed and, unbidden, she leaned her head back and looked up at him, her head brushing against him where he stood behind her. His jaw clenched tight, his eyes broadcasting his need and making no effort to hide it from her, as though—

As though she was the only one to turn him on?

A grim smile crossed his face. “This isn't the place for me to do what I want to you, but I promise you, Melissa, one day soon you're going to look at me like that and I'm going to kiss you until you forget everything—
everything
—but me. Got that?”

She swallowed, her blood heated at the thought, but even though she wanted so badly to open her mouth and protest, she didn't. She couldn't. Because she wanted it, too.

 

L
ATER THAT EVENING
, Melissa left the shower, glad the successful day was over, and dreading the other events taking place tomorrow. She dried off, then wrapped the towel around her before leaving the bathroom and entering her bedroom. The first thing she noticed was the picture of her mother on her bedside table, the one her father had left in his bedroom when he'd moved out.

She'd talked to him once since the wedding, the conversation short and uncomfortable. He'd always worked long hours, but she'd still seen a lot of him when they'd lived together. She missed those casual moments they'd had.

Melissa picked up the photograph and stared at her mother's face, tracing her fingers over her features and remembering Bryan's breath-stealing promise. “How'd you do it, Mom? Even married to Dad, how did you let him?”

She set the frame back beside her alarm clock and walked to her dresser to pull out pajamas. Another hard, early day awaited her tomorrow. She reached for the drawer and the towel came untucked. Before she could catch it, the length of damp cotton fell to her feet. She looked up, frozen at the sight of herself in the mirror.

She squeezed her eyes shut, incapable of looking directly at her chest. She'd looked right after her surgery.

Turning so that her back was to the mirror, she searched for her favorite pj set but couldn't find it, and exhausted tears seeped into her eyes. Grabbing another pair, she shut the drawer with her foot, her gaze winding up on the mirror again. Biting her lip, she stared at the length of her back, her rear. Heart shaped?

She wrinkled her nose and eyed her butt again, frowning, critiquing. Her legs were long and toned, her hips dipping in at her waist and giving it good definition. She twisted, turning to face the mirror a little more though not too far, her arms protectively shielding.

A decently flat stomach. The scar from her cesarean ran horizontal rather than vertical and was mostly invisible thanks to time. Josie had been a small baby, a preemie. The only stretch marks she'd had were on her—

Do it. Look
. She'd learned early on to close her eyes while bathing, and trained herself to shave her legs without once looking there because if she did—

She raised her hands to where her breasts would have been,
should
have been, and touched lightly. She always kept a washcloth and soap between her hand and skin. Always. But now…

“Nothing,” she whispered, sliding her fingertips down her flat chest, over the tiny pinpoints marking her radiation spots.
Marks she'd have forever. Her breasts were gone, the nerve endings severed. Her body mutilated by surgery but saved from a cancer running rampant. Nothing left, but what had she gained? In the end would it really help her?
Save
her?

“Don't buy into it. You know better than to listen. They're
wrong
.” So why was it getting harder and harder to turn Bryan down? To resist his teasing, his touch? The way he made her feel? When she'd woken up in his arms—

Dear Lord, why?
Why
her, why—

Why did she suddenly want to believe she could have more?