A Candle For Nick

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He opened his eyes and stared at her sleepily, then yawned. “Okay.”

Kent got out to walk them to the door. Mallory sent Nick inside, reminding him to brush his teeth before bed. “And—”

“I know,” he said, “with the soft toothbrush.” He grinned at Kent. “The leukemabrush, right?” Then he asked, “Aren’t you coming in, Mom?”

“In a minute. I want to talk to Dr. Berger.”

“’Kay. ’Night, Dr. Berger. I’ll see you Thursday.”

Mallory waited for Nick to shut the door, then squared her shoulders and turned to Kent. “About tonight—”

“He really is okay. Just a little tired.”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

“What, then?”

She took a breath. “How often do you do this?”

“This?”

Was he being deliberately obtuse? “Eat at McDonald’s.”

He chuckled. “The last time was…oh, about ten years ago.”

“Then why tonight? Surely you’re not in the habit of going out for fast food with your patients.”

His smile vanished. “No, I’m not.”

“Then why Nick?”

Frowning, he hesitated a moment, then shook his head. “Damned if I know. Maybe because he’s yours.” He brushed his hand over her cheek, then as if he thought better of his gesture, he turned and walked quickly to his car.

Mallory stood still and watched him get into the car and pull out of the parking lot. Her cheek tingled where he’d touched her, even that faint contact setting off a wave of longing she thought had died long ago. It must have been simmering beneath the surface, needing only the brush of his fingers to come to life again.

She opened the door and went inside. This couldn’t happen. Dammit, she wouldn’t let it.

“That you, Mom?” Nick’s sleepy voice called.

“Yes.”

“I’m in bed.”

She went to his room, sat on the edge of the bed and laid one hand on his cheek. She wished she could kiss him good night, but that wasn’t allowed. Too likely to spread germs. She settled for blowing a kiss with her other hand.

Nick pretended to catch it. He yawned widely, then said, “Tonight was cool.”

The perfect opening. “We need to talk about that.”

His eyelids drooped. “’Kay,” he muttered.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to, um, be friends with Dr. Berger. To ask him out to dinner and, um, things like that.”

His eyes opened. “Why?”

“Well, doctors have to make decisions about their patients, and being friends makes it harder.”

“Adam Cage’s family is friends with the Donnellys, and Dr. Donnelly is Adam’s doctor.”

“Yes,” Mallory acknowledged, “but this is different. For instance, you needed that bone marrow aspiration. It hurt but it was important. Sometimes doctors have to make you feel bad to get you well, and doing that is hard if they’re close friends with their patients.”

Nick said nothing. He was clearly thinking this through.

“Do you understand?” Mallory asked.

“Yeah, kinda. You don’t want me asking Dr. Berger to go somewhere with us.”

“Exactly. I know you like him a lot, but…”

“That’s okay, Mom. I get it. I can visit with him at the office.”

Mallory squeezed his hand. “That lady at McDonald’s was right. You are a sweetheart.”

Nick made a gagging sound. “Sweetheart. Mom, puh-lease.”

“Okay, tough guy. I won’t say it again. I’ll just think it,” Mallory promised. “’Night.”

“’Kay.”

By the time she took the few steps to the door, she could hear by Nick’s breathing that he’d fallen asleep. She sighed as she shut his door. Her son needed a father figure, especially now. Unfortunately, it appeared he’d chosen Kent.

Now what? It wasn’t bedtime for her yet, but she was tired, stressed. Yet, unlike Nick, she couldn’t instantly fall asleep. Why not take that bubble bath she’d mentioned to Kent? Her partner Lauri, who thought of everything, had slipped a jar of lavender bubble bath into Mallory’s cosmetic case. She found it and poured a lavish amount into the tub and filled it to the top with warm water. She got out her favorite sleep shirt, hung it on the towel rack and shed her clothes, then lowered herself into the fragrant water and leaned back. Eyes shut, she let the bubbles tickle her shoulders. After a few minutes her stress level lowered. Yes, the leukemia was always with her, but the bath did help her relax.

But now her thoughts turned to Kent. She didn’t want to remember the summer she’d been with him, but after spending this evening with him, she couldn’t seem to help it. She ran her hand through the water, felt it lap against her breasts and imagined instead the soft caress of Kent’s palm against her skin, the warmth of his mouth as he drew her nipple inside. When she opened her eyes, she saw that her nipples had tightened and the peaks extended above the water. She could almost feel the whisper of Kent’s breath against her body, the tingle of anticipation inside her that signaled she wanted more of him, all of him.

“Go away, Kent,” she murmured, then changed her mind. Nothing wrong with dreams, she told herself, as long as she stayed away from him in real life.

Kent poured himself a scotch, wandered into the great room of his house, glass in hand, and stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows with their view of the pool. What in hell had possessed him to accept Nick Brenner’s invitation to join him and Mallory at McDonald’s?

Okay, he had to admit he liked the kid. And he was fool enough to want to spend another evening with Mallory, even if it was for a dinner of burgers and fries. Something about her still tugged at him. Not just her looks, although she’d grown from a pretty girl to a beautiful woman. A strong woman, too. Life had dealt her a ton of blows—losing her husband and now facing her child’s illness—but though there were shadows under her eyes, they still shone and her smile still beguiled him.

Damn, he shouldn’t have touched her. The merest contact with her skin and he wanted more. Like an ex-drunk who tells himself he can get away with a taste of alcohol, he’d been sure he’d be satisfied with one light brush of his fingers over her cheek, but he’d been wrong. Now he craved her, wanted to run his hands and mouth over every inch of her…and have her touch him back.

She’d asked him about his marriage. Funny, he hadn’t thought about Lisa in a long time, never looked deep inside himself to figure out why their marriage hadn’t worked. If he wanted to be honest—something he hadn’t been while the divorce was in progress—he’d admit he married Lisa on the rebound. He’d been looking for someone as different from Mallory as possible. Lisa was sophisticated, big-city; Mallory was the girl back home.

And suddenly he wondered if, right now, Mallory had a guy back home. Someone who’d be waiting when she got back to Valerosa, when Houston was only a memory. She’d had someone when he’d known her before. Dean Brenner had been waiting in the wings and as soon as Kent was out of sight—out of mind, too, he guessed—Dean had made his move. Or maybe Mallory had used him as bait to spur Dean on.

Kent lifted his glass and drank deeply, letting the liquor burn as it went down. The old attraction smoldered in him, the same as it had the first day he’d seen her, a cute lifeguard who gazed at him as if he were a hero. And though he warned himself not to forget she’d once played him for a fool, Kent knew he still wanted her.

Complicating everything was her kid. Tonight he’d broken one of his cardinal rules: never get involved with his patients.