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“I never thought about it like that.”
“You should,” Mark said. He said it so simply, so definitively, as if there could be no other truth.
The thought felt like a revelation. Mothers were supposed to be people who carried to term, who had something to prove for their efforts.
“But I don’t have a baby. I mean, to show for it. I never had one.”
“You had one. Inside you,” he said. “And am I less of a father because my son isn’t alive anymore?”
“No! Of course not.” She wasn’t about to take that away from him. “You’ll always be a father. No matter what.”
“Well, then, you’re a mom. Simple as that.”
More tears flowed, and she couldn’t stop them even as she tried to wipe them away with the back of her hand. He took a clean work cloth from his back pocket and scooted closer. Their knees touched as he handed it to her. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
Laura blew her nose once more and the trumpeting sound made both her and Mark laugh a little. “I guess you’re right.”
“I know I am.” Mark glanced at her. She felt transfixed by his dark, knowing eyes, by the way they saw her and seemed to understand everything about her. She could feel the current of electricity running between them and wondered if he could feel it, too. If he leaned forward right now and kissed her, Laura would welcome it, she realized with a start. The current intensified between them. Intimacy, she realized. They’d bonded over their losses, and in some way, she felt like he’d offered her a way forward.
It’s not that she’d never be a mother. She’d already been one. She always would be one.
The understanding dawned and all she wanted to do was kiss Mark. He understood, but more than that, he’d shown her an escape route from her depression. She was a mother.
“Mark…” She put her hand on his forearm, his strong, tanned arm, and leaned closer. She wanted to kiss him now, to show him how amazing he was, how he’d changed her life in this very moment. He seemed transfixed by her, too, sitting very still next to her. Would he let her kiss him? Should she try? She wanted to.
Her body made the decision for her as she inched ever closer. All she could think about was what his lips might feel like against hers. She was just inches away from him, when abruptly he pulled away, whipping his arm away from her touch, standing up suddenly.
The movement seemed so jarring, so out of the blue, that all Laura could do was sit there, a bit stunned. She craned her neck up at him and watched him awkwardly fidget.
“Got to get back to work,” Mark said, uneasily, refusing to look her in the eye. “Sunlight won’t last much longer.”
She felt white-hot embarrassment flush her cheeks. She’d misread him. He wasn’t interested, not in that way. He was just being kind. Nothing more, nothing less. She watched him as he scuttled off the deck of the boat and shimmied down the ladder away from her. He couldn’t get away fast enough.
At least she hadn’t actually kissed him. What a nightmare that would’ve been. She felt herself squirm at the very idea that he’d push her away or look disgusted. Then she would’ve really been horrified. Now at least, she could just pretend she’d never intended to kiss him. Not at all.
I’m never going to try again, either, she thought. He’s made his feelings clear.
With nothing else left to do, she bent her head and went back to work, trying to ignore the sting of rejection.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MARK SPENT THE rest of the day and night kicking himself. He knew he’d made a mistake the minute he’d turned away from Laura and seen how she’d stiffened. But he just wasn’t ready for…a connection.
Not that the fear stopped him from wanting to taste her. Hell, every inch of his body screamed for him to take the delicate little woman into his arms and kiss the life out of her, right now, but that shouldn’t happen. It couldn’t happen.
Not when she was leaving in a couple of weeks.
Not when he wasn’t ready to get involved with someone; not when his heart was still broken.
When he’d seen the intent look on her face, the desire as she’d moved closer to him the day before, he’d panicked. Actually, he could still feel the panic deep inside him, the anxiety that rose up any time he thought about getting involved with another woman. Because he knew women didn’t do things halfway. Not any woman he’d ever known.
Hell, he’d only slept with one woman since Elle, and after just a single night of sex, the girl had been practically picking out curtains for his condo. No, he didn’t need that right now. Didn’t need the drama women inevitably brought with them. The emotional roller coasters, the hurt feelings that he never seemed to understand, the endless emotional need.
