Anger flared for a second, that someone would treat a decent human being, let alone Amelia, that way... He paused, reining in feelings that generally didn’t ever get out of check.
“Sounds like the guy had self-esteem issues,” he said. What was with him that night? You’d think he’d specialized in psychology rather than just taking the requisite classes for his medical degree. “And was a first-class idiot,” he added.
His voice had softened, and when he heard that, he knew he wasn’t just sitting there for peace of mind.
The long look she gave him, the softening around her eyes, drew him.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve blamed myself in about every way possible,” she slowly admitted. “Mostly, though, I hate that I didn’t know. I eventually found out, thinking, when I caught him in the act, that it was the first time, but then discovered that it had been going on for weeks. While he’d been sleeping with me.”
Leaning on the arm of his padded wrought iron chair, he put his face closer to hers, letting the darkness soften the intimacy of the movement. “He was a fool, Amelia,” he told her, his voice low, but deadly serious. “A decent man would know what a gem he had in you, in your devotion, and he’d cherish that, protect it,” he told her.
He had no idea why she’d been exposed to the dregs of the male gender, but needed her to know that not all men had a horrible side. That many would be worthy of her trust.
She didn’t say anything. Just sat there, looking at him. A minute passed and then she slowly turned toward the lights bobbing on the ocean in the far distance.
An idea occurred to him. But it was one that could lose him any ground he’d built with her. Glancing at her, he considered the wisdom of holding his counsel, leaving things to end on a good note.
Unless...
“Would it be awful if you and I were to remain in contact?” he proposed. “Not in any way that changes things. That child is all yours. I have no say. No rights. Period. But what if I was around, just a background figure who could look out for her health and happiness? What if she knows me just as a casual friend of yours? Someone you all see once in a while. Someone who, if the need ever arose, would be there to help in a time of crisis, someone he or she knows and can trust?”
His feet slid into place to stand as he voiced the question in its various forms. He was braced to stand. To follow the instructions he was sure would follow: to leave her home and not contact her any time soon.
When she said nothing, he remained braced.
“Do you have a bike?” he asked, many silent seconds later, just to fill the silence.
“What?” She turned to look at him, frowning, as though she’d just joined their little gathering.
As though she’d been deep in thought? He’d give his small fortune to know what she’d been thinking.
“A bike? Do you own a bike?”
“I used to. Not anymore.”
“Biking is a good, low-impact exercise,” he dropped into the night.
“Okaayyy.”
“I’ve still got Tricia’s bike...”
He was walking a tightrope, not sure where it led. Not sure it wouldn’t be better if he just fell off and was done.
He didn’t want that to happen.
“I could pick you up tomorrow, say around two, and we could go for a quick easy ride on Ellory Road.”
The quiet, mostly flat, gently curving two-mile stretch wound through an upscale neighborhood with homes that all sat on at least an acre of grassy and wooded lots. Because it was zoned residential, the speed limit was slow. And the traffic was minimal.
“I haven’t agreed to your suggestion that we stay in contact.”
“You haven’t disagreed.” He had to point it out.
“I know.”
He glanced at her and found her looking at him.
“Why not?” he asked, thinking they might be crossing into new territory. Into a place where they might be more than casual acquaintances.