this and not sure she really wanted to know. “Okay.”
“Did I tell you I was married at one time?”
Her eyes widened. She’d asked whether he was married and when he’d said no, she’d just assumed he’d been single all his life. “No.”
“I was. Paula was a pediatric oncologist with a thriving practice in California. She loved her patients. Her staff.” He paused, staring at the handle of his fork as if it were suddenly fascinating. “Four years ago, I was approached by the Hawks and asked if I’d be their doctor. At the time I was working with a smaller team in California, so it would have been a big promotion for me. I asked Paula to go with me. Told her that with her skills she could open a practice anywhere in the U.S.—could keep helping sick kids, just like she did where she was.”
Had the strain been too much, and they’d divorced over it? “Did she decide not to go?”
He shook his head. “Oh, she decided to go. But it would have been better if she hadn’t.”
“I don’t understand.”
Dropping his fork back onto his plate, he turned his stool to face her. “My wife got on the plane to fly out to Texas and never made it off.” He took a deep breath. “It crashed in the Gulf of Mexico. Her body was never recovered.”
MIRA WAS SHOCKED.
He saw it in her face. But was she shocked at the fact that he’d been married or that his wife had died because of him?
Her fingers touched his. “God, Jack. I had no idea. I’m so sorry.”
Yeah, well, so was he. Sorry he’d been so eager to climb up that career ladder. Sorry he’d dragged Paula with him as he’d gone up one step and then another without any thought as to how it would affect her career or the lives of her patients. Sorry that he never got to hold her and tell her that before she’d slipped away.
“I didn’t tell you to gain your sympathy. I told you so you’d never make a decision you regretted.”
She stared at him for several seconds, a bunch of emotions running over that beautiful face of hers. Then her mouth tipped to the side in a half-smile. “Too late. I’ve done plenty of things I’ve regretted.”
“Like your ski instructor?”
Her brows went up, and her smile grew. “I’m sure you didn’t mean that as in, ‘Do you regret doing your ski instructor?’ That does not sound good, Jack Perry.”
Relief swept over him. She wasn’t going to sit here and make him dissect his every regret or say that he shouldn’t feel guilt over his wife’s death. Or that he shouldn’t take pills to sleep. She’d catalogued what he’d shared and was okay with moving past it. He was just as happy to keep the ball rolling in that direction.
“Well, how about this, then. Do you regret doing me?”
She drew imaginary circles on the wooden surface of the bar with her finger. “I think you have that event reversed, Doctor. I seem to remember you doing me.”
“Is that so?” His body began to show a definite spark of interest in where this conversation was headed. “I think there was a little give-and-take going on there at the end.”
“Your beans are getting cold,” she said innocently, scooping up a bite of her own and popping it into her mouth.
He couldn’t prevent a smile. “That’s about the only thing getting cold.” He’d indulge her. But now that she’d thrown open the door, he had no intention of slamming it shut again, agreement or no agreement.
Why not enjoy each other for the next week or so? There was nothing wrong with that, and as long as they were both okay with it...
So he dug into his own food with gusto. Putting off the inevitable would only make it that much sweeter. “What time do you have to be back?” He wanted to make sure he enjoyed every decadent second of their time together.
“Actually, I’m not due back until tomorrow, unless there’s an emergency.”
“I didn’t pack clothes for an overnight stay.”
Her lips pursed as she looked him over. “Who said you needed clothes?”
Okay, so there was no mistaking those words. “Did you bring me out here just for this?” Not that he’d mind. At all.
“No, but now that we’re here I’m thinking it might not be a bad idea. Unless you’d rather go back to the lodge.”
Oh, sure. He was just going to smile and say, “Thanks but, no, thanks.” Not hardly. Not with this particular woman.
“Going back is not on my agenda. In fact, my schedule just became wide open.”
“Good, because I’m thinking the thick blanket I brought would look pretty darn good in front of the fire.”
He picked up his chicken. “I can think of something else that would look even better.” He took a bite, still staring at her.
“Mmm. So can I.” She blew out a breath. “Wow. I don’t know if Ellory is rubbing off on me or if it’s you. I’m not usually this forward.”
He swallowed his food, chasing it down with a slug of wine. “I like it. It’s a whole lot easier knowing where you stand than having to guess.”
That was one of the things that had bothered him most about Paula’s death. He’d never been entirely sure whether she’d wanted to move to Texas or if she’d been doing it just to please him. The heart of his guilt lay in that uncertainty. If she hadn’t wanted to come and had just spoken up, he would have stayed in California. Gladly. Now he’d never know. He pushed back the thought.
Mira sipped at her own wine. “It’s funny. I’ve always been a good girl. Quiet. Obedient. It’s why I love Ellory so much. She’s spontaneous and fearless. She always goes after what she wants, rarely letting anything stand in her way.”
“And you do?”
“Sometimes.” Her mouth twisted. “I think I work too hard to meet other people’s expectations of me. I forget who I am at times.”
He set his glass down and touched a finger to her cheek. “I think you’re the girl who’s sitting at this bar right now. And the girl who worked so hard to rescue those people after the avalanche. There’s more to you than you realize, Mira Dupris.” His fingertip traveled along her jaw and then down her neck. “And you blow me away. Every time I look at you. Talk to you. I haven’t been with many women since my wife’s death. And never more than once, but with you...”
Taking a deep breath, he decided to go for broke. “But with you I find myself wanting a next time. And a next.”
And maybe that revelation was where the healing finally began in earnest.
She gave a visible swallow then said, “I feel the same way.
