Josh as he wheeled his chair back down the hall toward the elevator. Dan followed in his own wheelchair right behind them, and while he didn’t utter a single word of complaint, she could feel his displeasure radiating off him.
She sighed, hoping he wasn’t regretting their bargain, because if he switched therapists now, Josh would certainly suffer.
Thankfully, Josh kept up a steady stream of chatter as they made their way outside. The sun was warm, but the air still held a hint of coolness as winter slowly gave way to spring, perfect weather for Josh and Dan, who’d be exerting themselves in order to use their wheelchairs.
The park was just a couple of blocks down from the hospital so it didn’t take long to get there. The hardest part of the trip was navigating around the people crowding the sidewalks. Good ole New Yorkers, couldn’t move over to give two people in wheelchairs room to maneuver.
They reached the south end of the park and followed the sidewalk inside. “Okay, Josh, you have to find us a good place to play ball,” she instructed him.
“How about right over there?” he suggested a few minutes later, pointing to a relatively isolated grassy area.
“Perfect,” she murmured. “Do you need help going over the grass?”
“I can do it,” Josh said, his face intent as he exerted extra pressure to wheel himself over the bumpy terrain. Dan followed his son’s example, even though he remained unusually quiet.
She plopped down on a park bench and tossed the ball up in the air, enjoying the sun on her face as she caught it again. “Remember the game we played that first day you came into the office?” she asked, directing her question to Josh.
“Yeah,” Josh said, stopping his wheelchair not far from where she was seated. “Are we going to play catch again?”
“We are. But I want you and your dad to spread out a bit, so we’re like the three points of a triangle.”
Josh obediently moved his wheelchair back a foot. When she glanced over at Dan, he was doing the same thing.
“Excellent. Now, remember how we did it before, okay?” She tossed the ball high in the air toward Josh, who caught it easily.
“Good job, Josh,” Dan said, breaking his silence.
Josh flushed with pleasure and turned his chair so that he was facing his father, before he tossed the ball up in the air. Dan had to lean over the side of the chair a bit to catch the ball, but he managed just fine. He tossed it back up in the air toward Josh.
“Molly!” Josh called, mere seconds before the ball landed on her head and then bounced off erratically. She laughed and jumped up to race after the ball.
“Caught you napping, didn’t he?” Dan drawled, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.
She grinned and nodded. “I can’t tell a lie, he certainly did.”
“Good thing you have a hard head,” he teased.
“Good thing.” Her smile widened. She could hardly believe he’d made a joke. “I bet yours is harder,” she goaded as she quickly tossed the ball at him.
She’d used a little too much force, though, and the ball caught the wind, veering off to the left, out of his reach. But that didn’t stop him from stretching up and over the side of the chair in a valiant attempt to reach it.
And suddenly the wheelchair tipped sideways, dumping him onto the ground.
“Dan!” she said.
At the same time Josh yelled, “Daddy!”
She rushed over to his side. “Oh, my gosh, are you all right?” she asked anxiously.
“Fine,” he muttered, his cheeks stained red with embarrassment.
“Tell me where it hurts,” she murmured, pulling the chair out of the way.
He groaned and rolled onto his back, staring up at her. “Mostly hit my shoulder, but I’m fine.”
“Let me see.” She leaned over him, running her fingers up his muscled arm to his shoulder. Thankfully there was no bump or obvious injury that she could feel. But when she looked down at him, their faces were so close she shivered from the intensity of his gaze.
Time hung suspended between them as he reached up and cupped her cheek with the palm of his hand. For a moment she completely forgot that Dan was a cardiothoracic surgeon. And a single father.
She leaned into his caress, catching her breath at the way his thumb slid across her cheek.
“Daddy!” Josh’s cry broke the moment and she quickly pulled away from Dan, glancing up at his son.
“Don’t worry, Josh, he’s fine,” she assured him, trying to calm her own racing heart.
What was wrong with her? What was she thinking? Getting close to her patient and, worse, to his father would be nothing more than a detour to disaster.
A path she couldn’t afford to take.
Dan chided himself for thinking about what Molly would taste like if he dared to kiss her.
He must have fried a few brain cells in the sun to even contemplate such a thing. But that moment she’d leaned over him, her expression so full of care and concern, had made him ache to touch her. To hold her.
To kiss her.
And the way she’d pressed her cheek into the palm of his hand made him think that the attraction wasn’t one-sided. In fact, he’d noticed her eyes had darkened with the same desire that shimmered through him.
It had been so long since he’d felt anything remotely like it that he wondered if he’d dreamed up the flash of desire?
“Do you need help?” she asked, reaching down as if to help him up.
“I’ll get there by myself,” he said, more gruffly than he’d intended. She snatched her hand back and then moved closer to Josh. For a moment he sat on the ground, trying to figure out how he’d get back into the wheelchair if he truly couldn’t use his legs.
He prided himself on getting to the gym whenever possible between surgeries, but to lever himself up off the ground using only his arm strength to get back into the dreaded wheelchair was more than he could manage.
Feeling like a wimp, he gave up the pretense. He rose to his feet and plopped back into his chair. Seeing Josh’s concerned gaze made him feel even worse, because for a few minutes there he hadn’t thought about Josh at all.
Just Molly. Pretty, cheerful, stubborn Molly.
“Hey, don’t worry, Josh. I’m not hurt a bit.” He wheeled himself closer to his son. “Make sure you don’t make the same mistake I did, okay?”
“Okay.” Josh’s worried expression eased.
Dan risked a glance at Molly, and immediately felt bad when he noted the tiny frown puckering her brow. He hated knowing that he
