A Mistletoe Kiss For The Single Dad. Traci Douglass
talk things out. But she also knew when to let things rest.”
“Please, Dad? I miss her. You never mention Mom anymore. I dreamed about her again last night. She was walking away and no matter how loud I screamed for her to come back, she just left me behind.”
At the catch in his son’s voice, Nick caved like a crumbling mine shaft. He’d thought that by not bringing Vicki up so much he’d save Connor the pain of her loss, but it seemed he’d only made things worse. Feeling like the world’s worst parent ever, he toed off his shoes then climbed back onto the bed beside his son, resting against the headboard next to Connor. “Fine. You want to know about me and Belle? I’ll tell you. But I’m making this quick because we both have to be up early. Got it?”
Con grinned and settled back against his favorite monster pillow. “Got it.”
Nick took a deep breath. “Belle and I both volunteered after school in Marlene’s clinic.”
“You used to clean up blood and guts and yucky stuff? Cool!”
“No. We used to sterilize instruments and scrub down exam tables.” He put an arm around Connor and tugged the boy into his side, ruffling his hair. “No gore. Well, unless you consider taking care of the parakeet cages in the lobby yucky.”
“Super-yucky.” His son wrinkled his nose. “Go on.”
“We spent a lot of time together at the clinic, since we both wanted to be doctors. Later, Belle and I dated in high school. We were even prom king and queen.”
“Wow. I’m never going to date anyone. Especially a girl.”
“Never say never.” Nick laughed. “Trust me.”
“So, why don’t you like her anymore?” Connor asked.
An uncomfortable twinge of regret pinched his chest before he tamped it down. “Nothing happened. Belle moved away from Bayside, and I did too. Our paths diverged.”
“Diverged?” Con looked up at him, frowning. “What’s that mean?”
“It means we ended up in different places.” He rested his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes. Truth was, he’d loved Belle enough to let her go. The fact she’d shared with him all her hopes and dreams and her parents’ aspirations for her had sealed the deal. He couldn’t hold her back. Wouldn’t hold her back.
Then he’d gone down a different path with Vicki and their destinies hadn’t crossed again, until now. Belle was his past. Connor was his future. The sooner Nick got that straight, the better off he’d be. “Belle and I parted ways a long time ago, son. We’re different people now.”
His son seemed to consider that a moment. “And then you met Mom.”
“And then I met your mother.”
Connor yawned and Nick took his cue to leave. He slipped out of the bed and walked to the door again, picking up his shoes along the way. “Good night, son.”
“‘Night.” Con snuggled down under the covers. “Hey, Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“If Belle decides to stay, would she be able to help Analia?”
Nick exhaled slowly and hung his head. “She won’t stay, son. She needs to get back to California. Her life is there.”
“Miracles happen all the time.” Connor peered at Nick, the covers tucked beneath his chin as icy snow tapped against the window panes. “Mom used to say that too.”
The chances of Belle choosing Bayside over Beverly Hills were slim to none, but it was late and Nick was tired. “We’ll see. Now, get some sleep. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
“Hey, Dad?” Connor’s yawn obscured the words.
Nick stopped halfway out of the room. “Yes, son?”
“When are you going to let me walk to school like Eric does?”
He sighed. The question struck far close to home after Belle’s judgmental remarks earlier. He didn’t want to smother Connor, but he’d do anything to keep him safe. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay? Now go to sleep.”
“Okay,” Connor said, his tone resigned. “Love you.”
“Love you too, son.” Nick closed the door, feeling like he’d gone ten rounds with an MMA fighter instead of put his kid to bed. When Vicki had been alive, they’d used to talk about stuff they wanted to do with Connor. Take him across the country and visit all the national parks. Let him have free rein in what he wanted to learn and do and be, within reason. Raise him to be an independent, free-thinking, fearless boy.
Now Nick watched his kid like a hawk. He didn’t let Connor cross the street alone because another child had been hit last year on Main Street on his way home from school. Granted, it had been the beginning of summer and with the tourists beginning to flock to the area the number of distracted drivers on the road had increased, but it didn’t reassure Nick at all. He trusted Connor. It was everyone else who made him wary. In the rational part of his mind, he knew he couldn’t keep Con under his wing forever, but he wasn’t sure how he’d cope if anything happened to his son.
Bone-weary, he checked the locks then shut off the lights before heading to bed himself, Belle’s words still echoing through his head. He didn’t want to be controlling. Back in the day, he’d gone with the flow and dealt with the punches as they came.
But as he brushed his teeth then finally climbed between the sheets, he realized life had changed him. Much as he hated to admit it, maybe he should allow Connor a little more freedom. After all, that was why he’d moved back to Bayside. The safety, the security.
Except with Belle back in town, the well-ordered life he’d tried to rebuild and protect suddenly felt threatened. He turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was Belle sitting in the diner, shiny as a new penny under the harsh fluorescent lights, and his chest squeezed with an odd mix of apprehension and anticipation.
Grumbling, he turned over and punched his pillow before burying his face in it. Hell, he wasn’t sure why he was getting all riled up over her return anyway. Wasn’t like he was interested in getting involved with her again. Just the opposite. For all he knew, she was seeing someone out in California. The thought nipped at him despite his wish to the contrary.
No. In a few hours he’d face her again, clear-headed and logical this time because if he was honest, having Belle back in Bayside was far more dangerous to him than any hit-and-run driver would ever be.
BELLE ARRIVED AT the clinic at nine sharp the next morning, only to find Nick already there. She went inside and took off her coat, hanging it on a peg behind the receptionist’s desk. The short drive from her aunt’s house had done little to improve her outlook, though wearing her sturdy boots this morning had helped on the slick pavement outside. She’d slept poorly the night before, a mixture of replaying in her head the phone call with Dr. Reyes and the dinner with Nick. It had all created a swirl of insomnia she’d been unable to conquer.
Nick leaned out of one of the exam rooms down the short hallway in front of her and flashed a polite smile. “Good morning.”
“What’s good about it?” she mumbled. “Is there coffee?”
He strolled out, looking far better than any man had a right to in faded jeans and T-shirt hugging his muscular torso in all the right places. Belle wasn’t sure why she’d expected him to show up in his lab coat again, but that would have been far preferable, and safer, than what he was wearing now. Her pulse sped as he slouched a shoulder against the wall, his ankles crossed. “I thought you liked tea.”
“I do,”