Single Dad, Nurse Bride. Lynne Marshall
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her waiting in the restaurant entryway.
She didn’t give him a chance to say anything. When she reached the full-length mirror in the restroom, she scanned herself head to toe. No perfect little black dress for her. No. How had she possibly thought she looked nice with her own rendition of urban fairy? All she needed was a laurel crown. What had she been thinking? She should have known better than to venture out of her safe little antisocial cave. But wasn’t this how she’d always thumbed her nose at society? Dress weird, be an individualist, show them you don’t give a damn what they think. You don’t want to fit in. Maybe they’ll believe you. And while you’re at it, maybe you’ll convince yourself.
But she did want to fit in with Dane.
Part of the dinner had been great fun, but at other times she’d sat stiff and self-conscious. Old habits never died. In each new foster-home she’d had to make a quick study of the family dynamics in order to survive. Her overall position anywhere she’d lived had boiled down to one thing—she had been a misfit. The families had either felt sorry for her, doted too much, making her withdraw, or had chided her for her mother’s problems, expecting the worst. And when they had, she’d taken their challenge by messing up in school and dressing weird.
Rikki had quit intentionally failing in her studies once she’d been on her own, but the defiant style of dress had stuck even when she’d pulled it together and got the education she needed to become a nurse. It had become who she was—different.
If she was being honest, she’d admit that Dane had gone out of his way to try to make her comfortable. Hadn’t he stuck up for her to the snooty wine steward and made her laugh with corny imitations?
Confused, she rubbed the line between her brows and paced. What should she do?
Her cell phone interrupted her thoughts. It was Meghan, her babysitter. “Brenden’s throwing a fit,” she said. “He keeps yelling, ‘I want my mommy.’ I can’t calm him down.”
Rikki took a deep breath. “He does that sometimes. I’m leaving right now. I’ll be home within the hour.” So much for trying to work anything out with Dane tonight. She’d go back to their table, explain the situation and hope for a reprieve.
When she got to the lobby, Dane had already paid their bill and was waiting for her. Obviously, he couldn’t wait to get the date over with either. But his eyes were soft and he looked like a man seeking peace.
The truth about Rikki had been written on the bathroom wall. The mirror had said it all. She was a misfit and she and Dane didn’t belong together. She needed to cut things off with him before they ever got started. And Brenden had given her the perfect excuse.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I thought we might go somewhere to listen to music or have a drink. What do you say?”
So he wasn’t beating her out the door? It didn’t matter—their date was history.
“I can’t. My foster-kid is having a bad night.” He wasn’t the only one.
Dane straightened his shoulders and jiggled the car keys in his hand. “I see. Well, in that case, let me drive you to your car.”
“Oh. No. That’s OK. I can walk.”
He reached for and held her elbow, not about to let her get away with her disappearing act. “Don’t be ridiculous, Rikki.”
Wasn’t that what she was? Ridiculous? The whole evening had been a ridiculous farce, except it hadn’t been funny. This was her life, out of sync with Dane Hendricks and the rest of the universe. And the damn thing was, she’d wanted to belong.
Rikki relented. “OK. I’m about a mile away, anyway.”
He chuckled, and took her hand. “You’re something else, you know that?”
Oh, yeah, she knew that.
Dane stared at Rikki, who studied her brightly painted toes while they waited for the valet to bring the car. No spark responded from her hand in his this time around. Instead, she’d subtly removed herself from his grasp in order to keep her hair out of her face when the wind had blustered through the driveway.
What the hell had gone wrong? He’d done all the right things for a perfect date—chosen a good restaurant, expensive wine. Hell, he’d even dressed up. But then, so had she…in a most unusual fashion. Peacock-feather earrings would have been the perfect accessories for her outfit. But he liked how she looked. Hell, he liked her, but somehow he’d only succeeded in making her uncomfortable. What had happened to the old Hendricks charm?
Despite every effort he’d made to loosen her up, she’d seemed uptight throughout dinner. He’d thought he’d broken through when he’d done his imitation of their hospital administrator, but she’d accidentally snorted when she’d laughed and had grown self-conscious again. He’d thought the snort had been kind of cute, but how did you explain that to a self-conscious woman?
And then, with exceptionally bad timing, gorgeous Hannah from Oncology had shown up, which had seemed to intimidate Rikki even more. But Hannah could do that to just about anyone. And to top everything off, of all the rotten luck, without knowing Rikki was vegetarian, he’d chosen a steak house. Way to go, Hendricks.
And what kind of convenient excuse was it for Rikki to claim her foster-kid was acting up so she had to leave? But if it was true, wouldn’t he do the same thing if one of his girls were in need? Nothing was more important to him than their well-being. Fact was, children complicated life, and he didn’t need any more problems. And Rikki couldn’t hide that gooey-eyed look whenever the conversation turned to kids. Rikki was a package deal he wasn’t sure he wanted to get involved with.
At a loss for words he tipped the valet and assisted Rikki into his car. She’d gone stiff again, obviously ill at ease. Did he need this kind of aggravation? Hell, no. He’d already had enough for a lifetime.
“So where’re you parked?”
She cleared her throat. “Go down this street and make a right at the stoplight.”
He tried not to chuckle at how far away she’d had to park in order to avoid paying a valet. She really did tickle him. Or maybe it wasn’t the cost. Maybe she was embarrassed about her old clunker of a car and had worried it would stall for the valet. Knucklehead. Why didn’t I insist on picking her up?
Everything was his fault. He’d let his physical attraction to Rikki dictate his actions without thinking things through. He should have gotten to know her better before asking her out. Truth was, they weren’t suited for each other. At this stage in life he was looking for someone to relax with, so why get involved with a woman who was a revolving door for foster-kids?
Rikki Johansen was a reckless-dressing, do-gooder, overly sensitive younger woman, and he’d had enough women giving him trouble. He’d been left to raise his two girls single-handedly when their mother, his ex-wife, had discovered how difficult it was to be a parent. One unstable female per lifetime was enough and Rikki was obviously a woman trying to make up for something—and just like with having children, he’d met his quota. No. He didn’t need any more problems. Next time he wanted a casual date, he’d ask Hannah.
Angry with the mess the date had become, he double-parked when they arrived at her car. He glanced over at her pixie silhouette, and against every ounce of etiquette he’d ever learned, a sudden urgent instinct took over.
The instant the car came to a stop, without further thought, he leaned across the bucket seat, took her face in his hands and planted a kiss on her lips. She went still under his kiss, but didn’t pull away. The moment drew out while he felt her soft, plump mouth beneath his. She leaned toward him, kissing him back, her hand placed lightly on his cheek. He’d made the right decision.
Every ounce of logic flew out of his brain as he pressed closer against her warm, moist lips. Did she feel the spark? The intensity of the moment jolted him. He backed off.
Her