“I’m not surprised. We’re close enough.” Behind her, Patience heard shuffling, and suddenly the music grew louder. He’d turned on the radio simulcast. “There,” she heard him say, “that’s better than straining to catch a stray chord. Sounds like the concert just started. Plenty of time before the fireworks.”
“Do you know,” Patience said, stepping away from the view, “that I’ve never seen the July Fourth fireworks live?”
“Really?”
“Nope. Just on TV. Piper was afraid of loud noises so I never took her. We stayed home and watched them on TV instead.”
“How about when you were a kid? Sorry.” He seemed to realize his mistake as soon as he spoke.
“That’s all right. There are worse things to miss out on.” She took a plate and started helping herself to the food. “How about you? What did your family do on Fourth of July?”
“Nothing. I was at camp, learning important wilderness survival techniques, like how not to lose your inhaler while hiking.”
She laughed.
“I’m not kidding,” he said. “I lost that sucker twice one summer. Kept falling out of my pocket.”
“I’m sorry,” Patience said, “but I’m having a hard time picturing you as this awkward asthmatic.”
“Remind me to show you my high school graduation photo someday. You’ll believe me then.”
“Well, you’re definitely not awkward now.”
“Thank you.” Stuart’s smile had an odd cast to it, almost as if he didn’t quite believe her. Which was ridiculous, because surely he knew what kind of man he was, didn’t he?
They ate in silence, letting the music fill in for conversation. It never failed to surprise Patience how comfortable just being with Stuart could be. Simmering attraction aside, that is. Maybe it was more that she never felt uncomfortable with him. Never felt like he was trying to mentally undress her. Even those moments of intense scrutiny, when his eyes bore down on her, weren’t about her figure, but rather what was inside. With him, Patience never felt like less than a person.
It was a gift she’d never forget.
Feeling a lump begin to rise in her throat, she reached for her wine. This wasn’t the time for tears.
“How do you think Ana’s party is going? She seemed pretty excited when we saw her this morning.”
“Going great, I’m sure.” Stuart smiled while wiping the grease from his fingers. “No doubt she and her cronies have commandeered the entire hospital sunroom and put the staff to work. Those ladies can be a force to be reckoned with. Don’t be surprised if we show up tomorrow and hear they had the whole hospital involved.”
Patience could picture the scene. “They’ll miss her when she’s discharged.” She sipped her wine thoughtfully. “I’m surprised you’re not at a party yourself.”
“I promised you a picnic for viewing the condo with me.”
“We could have done it a different night.” He must have had better options than spending the night with her.
“No, I said I’d show you the best place to see the fireworks. Besides, I wanted to.”
Patience tried not to get too excited by the remark. Unfortunately, she failed. The idea that Stuart had chosen her warmed her to the core. “I hope your friends aren’t too disappointed.”
“They’ll survive, I’m sure.” He stared at his drink, looking as if he was debating saying more. “I don’t—I don’t have a lot of friends. At least not close ones.”
“I’m surprised.”
He looked up. “Are you? In case you haven’t noticed, I tend to be rather suspicious of people.”
Because of Gloria? Wow, his step-grandmother had really done a number on him. Or was there someone else who’d hurt him, too? The woman who “dumped him” maybe?
“Dr. Tischel told me about your ex-girlfriend,” she told him.
“What did he say?”
She was right—the way his spine straightened told her that his step-grandmother hadn’t been the only woman to burn his trust. “Not much. Only that she broke up with you.”
“He didn’t say anything else?”
Like what? Seeing Stuart on alert had her curious. “No. He didn’t even mention her name.” The fact he’d brought up the subject at all had made Patience think she wasn’t just any girlfriend but rather someone who had broken his heart.
Stuart’s reaction all but confirmed her theory. Waving away the comment with exaggerated indifference, he sat back in his seat. “Dr. Tischel was drunk and looking to spread gossip is all.”
Patience wasn’t so sure. Dr. Tischel had spoken pretty offhandedly for a guy trying to gossip. In fact, he sounded more as if he was repeating news everyone already knew.
She was about to ask for Stuart’s version when he held up his hand. “Listen,” he said. The orchestra was playing a medley of Big Band songs. Memories of swaying in each other’s arms came rushing back, the onslaught overwhelming all other thoughts. One look at Stuart’s darkening eyes told her he remembered, too.
“Let’s dance,” he said, setting down his glass. It wasn’t a request but a command. The assertiveness sent a thrill running down her spine. Her hand was in his before she could think twice.
“What are the odds?” she heard him murmur as he pulled her close.
“I don’t know.” And she didn’t care. She would dance to anything if it meant being able to spend time in his arms. You are such a goner, she thought as she rested her temple against his shoulder.
“This is the first time I’ve ever danced without mile-high heels,” she said. “I feel short.”
His chest rumbled beneath her ear. “You could always stand on tiptoes.”
“That’s okay, this is perfect.” More than perfect. Closing her eyes, she let the moment wash over her. Who knew when they’d share another one? “Much better than the dinner dance.”
Stuart pulled back and his eyes searched hers. “You mean that, don’t you?”
There was something about his voice. In a way he sounded surprised, but a bigger part of him sounded pleased, as if he’d made a great discovery.
“You still don’t trust me to tell you the truth, do you?” After everything she’d shared about her past...
“That’s just it, I do,” he said, pulling her close again. “For the first time in a long time, I do.”
They swayed in silence. Patience lost herself in the music and the sound of Stuart’s breathing as they turned around and around, their feet and their bodies in perfect sync. The roof, the streets below, the entire city—all fell away except for the two of them.
The song ended, replaced by the slow mournful strands of the “1812 Overture,” Boston’s signal the fireworks were on their way. Patience clung tighter, wishing the moment would never end.
“Gloria,” Stuart whispered suddenly. The name made Patience’s insides chill.
“The girlfriend who broke up with me. It was Gloria.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
DEAR GOD. WAS he saying...? “You had an affair with your step-grandmother?” It was a lousy question, but she had to ask. Gloria was, after all, married to a man sixty years her senior. It would be only natural that she might turn to someone young and virile.
Besides, the alternative would be that Gloria chose Theodore over...
“No affair.”
Her stomach sank. Exactly what she’d feared. “She left you for your grandfather.” The ew factor increased. What kind of woman would prefer an old man to...to Stuart?
She already knew the answer. “She was after the money.”
“Yeah.” He broke away. Patience tried to grab his hand to pull him back only to miss the mark. “I should have realized. I mean, she pursued me—that alone should have been my first clue.”
“Why?” Patience didn’t understand. She pictured women coming on to Stuart all the time.
He laughed at her question. A soft, sad laugh. “Asthmatic and awkward, remember? Well, awkward anyway. This was almost fifteen years ago,” he rushed to add. He must have guessed she was about to argue the point. “I hadn’t grown into myself yet. When it came to things like dating, I was pretty clueless. Gloria on the other hand...let’s say she’d grown into herself years earlier. When she started showing interest in me, I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world. Couldn’t wait to introduce her to Grandpa Theodore. Talk about a stupid mistake.”
“She started chasing after him.”
“Hey, why settle for the nerdy grandson when you can snag the mother lode, right?” The bitterness in his voice told the rest of the story. Along with his eyes. He could try to make a joke out of the betrayal, but she could still feel his hurt. As he’d said before, the eyes gave away everything.
Having told his story, or as much as he intended, he made his way back to the coffee table. “Although to be fair, Grandpa Theodore did his part, too.” Snagging his wineglass, he drained the contents. “In a way I’m grateful to them,” he said, reaching for the bottle. He started to pour, only to change his mind, and set it back down. “They taught me a valuable lesson.”