Single Dad, Nurse Bride

While they waited for their meal, Rikki skimmed her repertoire of conversational topics. The files were frighteningly thin when it came to holding her own with a man like Dane. What could they possibly talk about besides life at Mercy Hospital? An idea popped into her head. She adored kids. He had kids. Why not?

“So, you must love being a dad.”

He raised his brows. “It’s the toughest job I’ve ever had. Fact is, I’d rather do back-to-back hip replacements than stare into my daughters’ big green eyes and tell them no.”

He had a point. Children could be ruthless with their miniature bodies and precious faces, and the thought of big Dane Hendricks being defeated by his daughters made her grin.

“Don’t get me wrong. I love my girls. And it’s my responsibility to be their dad. But do I love being a father? I’ll be honest with you. No.”

“Well, I love kids. Someday I hope to have a whole houseful of them.”

“You may change your tune once you’ve had a couple.” He shoved a piece of bread into his mouth and chomped vigorously.

“I’m a foster-parent. I’ve hosted half a dozen kids already, and right now I’m caring for a four-year-old orphan named Brenden Pascual. It’s been tough, but very rewarding to know that I’m giving him stability when his whole world has been turned upside down.”

“That’s commendable. You seem to be a very caring person.”

“Nah. It’s just my way of giving back.”

“May I ask you a practical question? What about child care? How do you manage that? I’ve had nothing but trouble with nanny after flaky nanny. And my mother can only handle the girls for so long.”

“Why haven’t you tried Mercy’s child care? It’s open for all employees. That’s the reason I transferred over from St. Michael’s.”

He tilted his head. “You know, you’ve got a point. Maybe I will try it out. Thanks.”

She sat a littler straighter. “Glad to be of service. And for your information, caring for foster-kids hasn’t put me off kids at all. I still want several kids of my own one day.”

“That’s also very commendable. But as for me, I know my limits. I’ve met my quota. No more kids.”

Despite their differences on views of family size, the rest of the meal was pleasant enough. They chuckled over their favorite scenes in movies, and realized they both liked to hike. Rikki discovered Sheila was right—Dane did a flawless imitation of Mercy Hospital’s administrator.

The absurdity of him clowning around and his spot-on imitation set her off giggling until she realized people were staring. She used her napkin to cover her mouth and quieted down. Dane kept taunting her by whispering more Hank Caruthers-isms. He obviously enjoyed watching her squirm and snort.

After the meal they both agreed that pie was the only true dessert and decided to share. She didn’t let on it was her birthday, and cake would be more appropriate. But she had to admit so far it had been a fairly decent date.

So why was she still feeling so uncomfortable with Dane?

After one large bite of mixed berry pie, a couple brushed past their table, and a familiar face from Mercy Hospital stopped.

Exquisite Dr. Hannah Young, sleek, statuesque, dressed to knock out whoever her date was in a tight little black designer dress, paused to rest her hand on Dane’s shoulder. “Greetings. Fancy meeting you here,” she said, as though it was some sort of inside comment about the restaurant being their favorite hangout.

Dane stood up quickly, dropping the napkin from his lap. “Hey, Hannah.” They smiled warmly at each other and shook hands. She cast a cool dismissive gaze in Rikki’s direction. “You know Rikki Johansen from Orthopedics,” he said, and gestured toward her while he bent down to retrieve his napkin. Rikki had never seen him flustered before.

The doctor raised her eyebrows and tilted her head in Rikki’s direction. Her message came through loud and clear. What are you doing here with this gorgeous man? There must be only one reason. Hmm. She made a quick calculated head-to-table glance, and her perfectly shaped brows twitched in disapproval. “Good to see you.”

Rikki forced a smile, nodded and said a curt “You too.”

“Well, I’d better get back to my date. See you Monday at the admin meeting, Dane. I hear Hank has another groundbreaking announcement.”

“I’ll be there.” He passed Rikki a mischievous sideways glance as though on the verge of another imitation. “Hey, great seeing you, Hannah.” Dane sat back down with new color in his cheeks. Was he embarrassed being caught in public with someone like her?

All the insecurities she’d tried to suppress for the night came charging through her shaky defenses. As always, she didn’t measure up. Everything had been a mistake. How could she—an abandoned kid from foster-care—ever feel on an equal footing with Dane?

“Why can’t you be like those other girls, Rachel Johansen?” her least favorite foster-mom had chided her when she’d begun expressing herself by dressing differently than her peers. “You ain’t got no class and you never will.”

She stopped in mid-bite of the last of the dessert as a wave of anxiety took hold, and pushed back her chair. “I need to find the ladies’ room. Will you excuse me?”

He looked surprised, the way he’d looked when he’d first spotted her waiting in the restaurant entryway.

She didn’t give him a chance to say anything. When she reached the full-length mirror in the restroom, she scanned herself head to toe. No perfect little black dress for her. No. How had she possibly thought she looked nice with her own rendition of urban fairy? All she needed was a laurel crown. What had she been thinking? She should have known better than to venture out of her safe little antisocial cave. But wasn’t this how she’d always thumbed her nose at society? Dress weird, be an individualist, show them you don’t give a damn what they think. You don’t want to fit in. Maybe they’ll believe you. And while you’re at it, maybe you’ll convince yourself.

But she did want to fit in with Dane.

Part of the dinner had been great fun, but at other times she’d sat stiff and self-conscious. Old habits never died. In each new foster-home she’d had to make a quick study of the family dynamics in order to survive. Her overall position anywhere she’d lived had boiled down to one thing—she had been a misfit. The families had either felt sorry for her, doted too much, making her withdraw, or had chided her for her mother’s problems, expecting the worst. And when they had, she’d taken their challenge by messing up in school and dressing weird.

Rikki had quit intentionally failing in her studies once she’d been on her own, but the defiant style of dress had stuck even when she’d pulled it together and got the education she needed to become a nurse. It had become who she was—different.

If she was being honest, she’d admit that Dane had gone out of his way to try to make her comfortable. Hadn’t he stuck up for her to the snooty wine steward and made her laugh with corny imitations?

Confused, she rubbed the line between her brows and paced. What should she do?

Her cell phone interrupted her thoughts. It was Meghan, her babysitter. “Brenden’s throwing a fit,” she said. “He keeps yelling, ‘I want my mommy.’ I can’t calm him down.”

Rikki took a deep breath. “He does that sometimes. I’m leaving right now. I’ll be home within the hour.” So much for trying to work anything out with Dane tonight. She’d go back to their table, explain the situation and hope for a reprieve.

When she got to the lobby, Dane had already paid their bill and was waiting for her. Obviously, he couldn’t wait to get the date over with either. But his eyes were soft and he looked like a man seeking peace.

The truth about Rikki had been written on the bathroom wall. The mirror had said it all. She was a misfit and she and Dane didn’t belong together. She needed to cut things off with him before they ever got started. And Brenden had given her the perfect excuse.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

She nodded.

“I thought we might go somewhere to listen to music or have a drink. What do you say?”

So he wasn’t beating her out the door? It didn’t matter—their date was history.

“I can’t. My foster-kid is having a bad night.” He wasn’t the only one.

Dane straightened his shoulders and jiggled the car keys in his hand. “I see. Well, in that case, let me drive you to your car.”

“Oh. No. That’s OK. I can walk.”

He reached for and held her elbow, not about to let her get away with her disappearing act. “Don’t be ridiculous, Rikki.”

Wasn’t that what she was? Ridiculous? The whole evening had been a ridiculous farce, except it hadn’t been funny. This was her life, out of sync with Dane Hendricks and the rest of the universe. And the damn thing was, she’d wanted to belong.

Rikki relented. “OK. I’m about a mile away, anyway.”

He chuckled, and took her hand. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Oh, yeah, she knew that.

Dane stared at Rikki, who studied her brightly painted toes while they waited for the valet to bring the car. No spark responded from her hand in his this time around. Instead, she’d subtly removed herself from his grasp in order to keep her hair out of her face when the wind had blustered through the driveway.

What the hell had gone wrong? He’d done all the right things for a perfect date—chosen a good restaurant, expensive wine. Hell, he’d even dressed up. But then, so had she…in a most unusual fashion. Peacock-feather earrings would have been the perfect accessories for her outfit. But he liked how she looked. Hell, he liked her, but somehow he’d only succeeded in making her uncomfortable. What had happened to the old Hendricks charm?

Despite every effort he’d made to loosen her up, she’d seemed uptight throughout dinner. He’d thought he’d broken through when he’d done his imitation of their hospital administrator, but she’d accidentally snorted when she’d laughed and had grown self-conscious again. He’d thought the snort had been kind of cute, but how did you explain that to a self-conscious woman?

And then, with exceptionally bad timing, gorgeous Hannah from Oncology had shown up, which had seemed to intimidate Rikki even more. But Hannah could do that to just about anyone. And to top everything off, of all the rotten luck, without knowing Rikki was vegetarian, he’d chosen a steak house. Way to go, Hendricks.

And what kind of convenient excuse was it for Rikki to claim her foster-kid was acting up so she had to leave? But if it was true, wouldn’t he do the same thing if one of his girls were in need? Nothing was more important to him than their well-being. Fact was, children complicated life, and he didn’t need any more problems. And Rikki couldn’t hide that gooey-eyed look whenever the conversation turned to kids. Rikki was a package deal he wasn’t sure he wanted to get involved with.

At a loss for words he tipped the valet and assisted Rikki into his car. She’d gone stiff again, obviously ill at ease. Did he need this kind of aggravation? Hell, no. He’d already had enough for a lifetime.

“So where’re you parked?”

She cleared her throat. “Go down this street and make a right at the stoplight.”

He tried not to chuckle at how far away she’d had to park in order to avoid paying a valet. She really did tickle him. Or maybe it wasn’t the cost. Maybe she was embarrassed about her old clunker of a car and had worried it would stall for the valet. Knucklehead. Why didn’t I insist on picking her up?

Everything was his fault. He’d let his physical attraction to Rikki dictate his actions without thinking things through. He should have gotten to know her better before asking her out. Truth was, they weren’t suited for each other. At this stage in life he was looking for someone to relax with, so why get involved with a woman who was a revolving door for foster-kids?

Rikki Johansen was a reckless-dressing, do-gooder, overly sensitive younger woman, and he’d had enough women giving him trouble. He’d been left to raise his two girls single-handedly when their mother, his ex-wife, had discovered how difficult it was to be a parent. One unstable female per lifetime was enough and Rikki was obviously a woman trying to make up for something—and just like with having children, he’d met his quota. No. He didn’t need any more problems. Next time he wanted a casual date, he’d ask Hannah.

Angry with the mess the date had become, he double-parked when they arrived at her car. He glanced over at her pixie silhouette, and against every ounce of etiquette he’d ever learned, a sudden urgent instinct took over.

The instant the car came to a stop, without further thought, he leaned across the bucket seat, took her face in his hands and planted a kiss on her lips. She went still under his kiss, but didn’t pull away. The moment drew out while he felt her soft, plump mouth beneath his. She leaned toward him, kissing him back, her hand placed lightly on his cheek. He’d made the right decision.

Every ounce of logic flew out of his brain as he pressed closer against her warm, moist lips. Did she feel the spark? The intensity of the moment jolted him. He backed off.

Her ruffled gaze met his in the dark of the car, searching for an explanation. He couldn’t say why he’d done it. She didn’t ask.

“Rikki, I…”

Rikki cleared her throat and reached for the doorhandle. “Thanks for dinner,” she said, breathless. The wind practically blew the door open for her. She jumped out so fast that she caught her necklaces and broke a strand, sending beads flying all over the street. She didn’t stop to pick up any of them. It took both hands and all of her hundred-pounds-soaking-wet bodily strength to close the door.

Dane got out of the driver’s side, only to have Rikki raise her hand to wave goodnight. She slid inside her car faster than he could utter a sound of protest, and slammed the door.

After two false starts, while she refused to glance at him, her engine finally turned over, making a ragged metal and muffler song.

Speechless and confused, he slipped back inside his car, completely aware of the taste of her lips on his and her lingering herbal scent. He drove up the street, and watched through his rear-view mirror to make sure her car continued to run. She made an illegal U-turn in the middle of the road and drove off in the other direction.

He shook his head. Women!

The light changed to green. Something sparkly in the passenger bucket seat caught his attention. Damn, a reminder of the woman who’d managed to confuse him—a short strand of Rikki’s fluorescent blue beads.

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