What was it about her that made it difficult for him to think straight? He glanced down at the bacon with a guilty flush. “My patients are children, not adults. And, besides, having bacon once in a while isn’t too bad, right?”
She laughed softly and hitched her purse over her shoulder. “I guess not, although I must confess I would have imagined you making wholegrain pancakes or granola and yogurt for breakfast.”
He grimaced wryly. “Guess I’ve tarnished my image, huh? Come in, have a seat. Would you care for coffee?”
She gazed longingly toward the coffeepot, but slowly shook her head. “No, I should probably head home. I just wanted to thank you for your hospitality.”
“You can’t leave without eating breakfast,” he said in a rush of panic, ridiculously upset that she intended to leave so early. “Did you really think I was cooking all of this for me?” he asked, gesturing to the meal in progress incredulously.
“Well …” she said doubtfully. “I don’t want to impose on your family time.”
He didn’t have the heart to admit that he and Josh didn’t exactly have family time, at least not in the way she probably thought. They had more of a trying-to-rekindle-their-broken-relationship-time, which consisted of awkward silences more than anything else.
“If you leave now, you would be imposing on me and Josh to eat all this food by ourselves,” he teased, trying to keep his tone light. “Please sit down, and are you sure you wouldn’t like a cup of coffee?”
She chewed her lower lip nervously, but then ventured farther into the kitchen, taking a seat on the stool in front of the breakfast nook. “I’d love some coffee. The mere scent was enough to wake me up from a sound sleep.”
He busied himself with pouring her a mug of coffee, sliding it over to her before getting one for himself. “Cream, sugar?” he asked.
“Cream or milk, if you have some.” She cupped her hands around the mug as if needing the warmth.
He brought out the milk, and then frowned. “Are you cold? I’ll turn up the heat.”
“Maybe a little,” she admitted, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. “It’s been so nice the past few days, but now I can see frost outside.”
“Welcome to spring in New York,” he muttered. “Hang on a minute, I’ll get you a sweatshirt.”
He flipped the bacon strips before he retreated to his bedroom, looking for one of his sweatshirts. He brought it out for her, oddly pleased at how she looked wearing his clothing.
“Thank you.”
“It’s the least I can do,” he responded. “I, uh, hope you like French toast,” he said, crossing back over to the stove. “It’s Josh’s favorite.”
“I love it,” she assured him. She took a sip of her coffee and he couldn’t help thinking how pretty she was. Suzy had worn enough makeup to paint a clown, but he preferred Molly’s fresh-scrubbed beauty any day of the week.
Forcing his gaze to the task at hand, he dunked the bread slices in the egg mixture and set them into the sizzling fry pan.
“Dan, I have a question for you and I hope you don’t think I’m intruding or anything.”
He glanced up from the French toast. “You can ask me anything, Molly,” he said truthfully. After baring his soul to her last night about Josh’s mother, he couldn’t imagine what could be too intrusive.
“It’s, uh, about Josh’s birthday.” She was staring down at her coffee as if afraid to look him in the eye. “I was wondering if you’d made any plans?”
He tightened his jaw, and spent a few minutes flipping the bread slices before answering. “No, I haven’t planned anything yet,” he said slowly. “But I’m guessing you think I should have some sort of party?”
“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” she said hesitantly. “But if you were going to have a party, I’d offer to help.”
“You would?” He glanced up and caught her gaze. She looked so hopeful he found he couldn’t deny her anything. “What sort of party are you imagining?” he asked with a mock frown.
“Here’s what I’ve been thinking,” she said, leaning forward eagerly. “We could get a whole bunch of wheelchairs from the clinic and invite Josh’s friends to a game of wheelchair football. That way he could play with them, and I think his friends would get a kick out of it, too. We could serve either hot dogs and hamburgers or pizza for dinner. What do you think?”
He had to admit she’d nailed the best idea he’d ever heard. “I think it’s a perfect idea. If the weather co-operates.”
“I know. March is dicey,” she murmured. “But as long as it’s not snowing, they can bundle up and we don’t have to play for hours. If it’s cold, we can start at the park and then come here afterward.” She glanced around at his immaculate apartment and frowned. “If you don’t mind the fact that the kids will likely make a mess,” she added doubtfully.
Normally, he wasn’t ashamed at the fact that he liked his life neat and orderly, but the way she looked at his things made him feel slightly embarrassed. Since when was having a clean home more important than his son’s happiness?
“I don’t mind at all,” he quickly interjected. “All that matters is that Josh and his friends have fun.”
She relaxed, a bright smile blooming on her face. His gut tightened with awareness. He’d never been more attracted to a woman than he was to Molly. She was a beacon of light in his otherwise drab existence. “Great. There’s no time to lose. We have to invite his friends as soon as possible.”
“I’ll call his teacher, I’m sure she’ll give me the names of the kids in his classroom.”
“You should invite all of them, girls, too,” Molly informed him.
“Girls?” He didn’t try to hide his surprise. “Really? Isn’t first grade a little young for having girls over?”
“It’s just the polite thing to do,” she said. “Besides, we’re planning this at the last minute, so I’m worried a lot of the kids might not be able to come.”
He scowled as he scooped the slices of French toast off the griddle and stacked them on a plate. He hoped the kids in Josh’s class would come, and hoped that giving them all wheelchairs to use would keep the teasing down to a minimum.
“Breakfast is ready,” he said, carrying the plate over to the breakfast nook. He pulled the bacon out of the pan, too, blotting the grease and then stacking them on another plate. Lastly he pulled out the maple syrup, before sliding into the seat beside her, so close their elbows bumped.
He watched with amusement as she doused her French toast with enough maple syrup to float a boat. She took a big bite and then closed her eyes, as if savoring the flavor. “Mmm, absolutely delicious,” she announced.
“Thanks.” He took a bite of his food, admitting that it was pretty darned good. But he knew the main reason he was enjoying his meal so much was because of Molly. Somehow she had the
