Part 12 (1/2)
She turned to him. ”Drew, we're adults-”
”I think we ought to cool it for a while after today.”
That wasn't what she'd been expecting him to say. She tried desperately to look nonchalant as she tossed the soiled towel into the trash and dropped two pieces of bread into the toaster. ”What do you mean?”
”I mean I'll take Kevin fis.h.i.+ng today and show him a good time, but I think maybe it would be best if you and I didn't see each other for a while.”
”And you came to this conclusion because...”
”Because last night got out of hand. Way out of hand.” He glanced toward the door, looking uncomfortable for the first time despite the sungla.s.ses. ”I don't want that kind of relations.h.i.+p with you.”
Hurt tangled with humiliation and plunged through her like a knife. For several heartbeats, she couldn't get enough oxygen into her lungs to speak. When she did, her voice shook. ”Exactly what kind of relations.h.i.+p do you think we should have?”
”I'd like to stay friends. d.a.m.n it, I mean that. I care about you. And I care about Kevin. A lot. But I can't let it go any further than that.”
”Do I have any say in the matter? I mean, last time I checked I was over twenty-one and I have been widowed for over four years now.”
He flinched, but he didn't look away. ”I don't know what you want me to say.”
”Maybe I want you to say what you feel.”
”I just did.”
She felt herself recoil, but for the life of her couldn't say if it was physical or purely emotional. All she knew was that it was powerful and she felt it all the way to her core. ”Have you come to this conclusion because of what happened to Rick?”
He looked down at his sneakers and took a deep breath as if to fortify himself. ”This has nothing to do with Rick. This has to do with me.”
Liar, she thought, but didn't say the words. What could she say? Maybe he was right. Maybe she was lonely and pathetic and he honestly didn't want to get involved with her. Or maybe, amazingly, she had done her grieving and was ready to move on with her life. Maybe Drew hadn't been able to do that.
The thought shook her so profoundly that she didn't know what to say or do next. All she knew was that Drew Evans was a good man. A man she cared for deeply. A man she was very much attracted to. A man who wanted absolutely nothing to do with her on a personal level because he was still dealing with the loss of his best friend.
”Mommy, I got my shoestring in a knot!” Kevin blew into the kitchen like a little tornado, then skidded to a halt just in time to keep himself from stepping into the growing puddle of milk. ”Hey, how come there's milk all over the floor?” Without waiting for a reply, he launched himself at Drew. ”Drew!”
”Hey, sprout!” Drew said, wrapping his arms around the little boy. ”Are you ready to catch some big ones?”
”Yeah!” Kevin spread his arms as wide as they would go. ”This big!”
”You got a hook that big?”
Kevin looked troubled for a moment. ”I have to bring my own hook?”
Chuckling, Drew released him and the little boy slid to the floor. ”I think I've got one you can borrow.”
Because she was still shaking inside, Alison turned to the stove and stared blindly down at the egg and began to scramble it. She told herself it was silly to feel so hurt. It wasn't like she and Drew had a serious relations.h.i.+p or anything. All they'd done was share a couple of brain-melting kisses. But she knew that wasn't the truth. Last night they'd done a whole lot more than kiss. And she'd felt a h.e.l.l of a lot more than she'd intended.
Without looking at either male, she crossed to the toaster and pressed the b.u.t.ton. Vaguely, she was aware of Drew kneeling to untie the knot in Kevin's shoelace. She reached for a paper towel, tore off several and knelt to wipe up the spilled milk.
”Let me get that for you.”
”I've got it.”
”Ah, I think the egg is getting overcooked.”
d.a.m.n. d.a.m.n. d.a.m.n! Practically tossing the paper towel at him, Alison rose and crossed to the stove and slid the egg onto a waiting plate. Next to her the toast was just starting to brown, so she popped it up and set two pieces next to the egg and began to b.u.t.ter them.
”White or chocolate milk?” she asked Kevin.
”White.”
She turned toward the opposite counter just as Drew rose from cleaning up the last of the spilled milk. Their eyes met briefly, but Alison couldn't hold his gaze. Not after what he'd said. Not hurting the way she was.
”Excuse me,” she said.
He stepped aside, but she heard his sigh. Ignoring him as best she could, Alison poured Kevin a gla.s.s of milk then carried his plate and gla.s.s to the small dining-room table. ”Okay, young man, your breakfast is ready.”
”I only want one piece of toast.”
”You've got two.”
”But I-”
Bending to kiss him on the top of his head as he sat down at the table, she added, ”And they'd better be gone by the time I get your backpack packed or you won't be going fis.h.i.+ng today.”
Alison felt two sets of male eyes on her back as she left the kitchen to stow the asthma medications into Kevin's backpack. She heard Drew excuse himself, but she didn't stop until she'd reached Kevin's room.
”Alison.”
She didn't look at him. She couldn't because somehow hurt had transformed into anger. To make matters worse, she felt like a fool. Because she didn't know how to deal with any of those things, because she didn't want to, she picked up Kevin's medications and held them out for him to see.
”If he gets tight, make sure he uses his inhaler.” She held out the small L-shaped tube and the s.p.a.cer.
Drew glanced at them. ”Is the other piece the s.p.a.cer?”
For a moment she was surprised that he would know what a s.p.a.cer was. Then she remembered he was an EMT. Of course, he would know about those things. That was one of the reasons she'd agreed to let Kevin go fis.h.i.+ng with him in the first place. ”Because Kevin is so young, the specialist recommended that we also use a s.p.a.cer. It helps younger children get the medication into their lungs. One end of the s.p.a.cer has a mouthpiece that goes into Kevin's mouth. The inhaler plugs into the other end.” She demonstrated, then handed it to him. ”Give it a try.”
Taking both apparatuses from her, he handled them both with the skill of a man who would be capable in an emergency. Trying not to be too impressed, or too relieved, Alison nodded. ”I gave him his oral medication about half an hour ago.” She reached for the small brown prescription bottle on the dresser. ”If he gets tight, you can give him one more.”
”I don't think we'll be out too long.”
”I'd prefer it if he wasn't out fis.h.i.+ng any more than a couple of hours.”
”Sure.” He glanced down at the inhaler and prescription bottle in his hand, then gave her a direct look. ”Are you angry about something?”
She raised her brows innocently and gave him a cool look. ”Why would I be?”
”Because I'm not very good at...talking about my feelings.”