His thumb began a lazy glide over the top of her hand, and for the first time, Raina realized he was still holding on tight. She swallowed hard. “What’s that?”
“You’ve been alone too long. Studies show that widowed women, women with workaholic husbands, and women without interests of their own are more likely to meddle in their children’s lives.”
There were many things in life Raina hated. Being patronized was one of them. “I have outside interests. I jog every morning outside or on the treadmill in the basement.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re still jogging with a weak heart?”
She shrugged. “When I’m sure I won’t get caught, and it hasn’t been easy, believe me. Those boys have minds like a steel trap, and with three of them, they seem to be everywhere at once. The basement’s my only refuge, but that’s not the point. I also volunteer at the hospital,” she said, seeking to convince him she had outside, healthy interests.
He frowned. “In the children’s ward. It’s a wonderful gift you give those kids, but as far as you’re concerned, it’s an extension of the same obsession. Meddling in your children’s lives isn’t healthy.”
She squared her shoulders, but her heart beat painfully in her chest and a lump rose to her throat. “I’m not obsessed and I don’t meddle. I’m stretching the truth to get my sons to broaden their horizons. That’s all.”
“Let’s say, on that subject, we agree to disagree. But on the subject of you, it’s time I spoke up, and not just as your doctor.”
Raina wasn’t sure why, but her adrenaline picked up in a way she hadn’t experienced in years. Distinct butterflies took up residence in the pit of her stomach.
“There are other studies I can quote, but did you know that an emotional and physical connection to another human being is an essential part of life?”
“I’m connected,” she told him. “To my sons, my friends, to you . . . to everyone in this town.”
“I’m not talking about friendships, Raina.”
She met his gaze and for the first time found herself looking at him. Really looking at him, not just as her friend, but as a man. An attractive, attentive, eligible man.
He’d aged well, the salt-and-pepper hair making him distinguished-looking, not old. His skin was tanned and weathered, in a rugged, handsome way that defied aging and wrinkles. And his body had maintained, if not the firmness of youth, then at least the outward appearance of a virile man.
She wondered what he saw when he looked at her, and was surprised to discover she cared. This conversation had personal, sensual undertones she’d never heard before from Eric. She wondered if she was mistaken. She was too old to be thinking men looked at her with any kind of real interest. Not anymore. Not since John.
But hadn’t she just appraised Eric in—dare she even think it—an intimate way? Flustered, she curled her hands into fists and he released his hold on her at last.
“I have patients at two. I think it’s time to eat.”
Raina gratefully nodded and dug into the picnic basket she’d picked up at Norman’s.
“So tell me what other schemes you’ve got going on,” Eric said as he began to eat.
“You heard about Bridge Night, didn’t you?” One night a month, Raina insisted the women shop at Charlotte’s Attic instead of playing bridge. Ladies’ night out, she called it.
He laughed. “Of course I heard. You’ve made it your mission to help Charlotte succeed.” He gestured over the lawn, to Charlotte’s Attic across the street.
Raina shrugged. “Why not? I always liked the girl.”
“Mothering again,” Eric said between bites. Raina frowned at him and would have said more, but he softened his words with an admiring smile. “Come with me to the St. Patrick’s Day dance Friday night.”
He’d never asked her out before. Never offered to accompany her anywhere unless they were in a group. Babysitting the widow, she called it, and nobody had ever disagreed. Eric’s wife had been gone three years now and he’d thrown himself into his work, so his invitation surprised her.
“I’d like to go, but the boys will be there, and—”
“They might think you’re healthy, heaven forbid?”
Heat rose to her cheeks. “Something like that.”
“I’ll have to prescribe a night out, then.”
His eyes twinkled, and she had to admit she was tempted. Not just by his offer, but by him. “Who’s doing the babysitting this time?” She needed clarification. Was she going with him as his date, or was he just seeking to get an old friend out of the house?
He met her gaze with a steady, assessing stare. “Nobody’s babysitting. We’re going on a date.”
“I’d be delighted.” The butterflies picked up rhythm once more and this time Raina not only recognized the passionate sensation, but she welcomed the feeling with open arms.
Three days after Roman had visited her shop, Charlotte still hadn’t been able to shake him from her thoughts. In her dreams, she knew better than to try. But during the day, when the shop bell chimed, her stomach fluttered at the possibility he might walk back in. If the phone rang, her pulse skipped, thinking she’d hear his deep voice on the other end.
“Pathetic,” she muttered. She needed to stop thinking about Roman.
She parallel parked at the curb across from her mother’s house. Visiting Annie was a weekly ritual. When Charlotte had moved back to town, she’d already been on her own too long to live with her mother, and besides, she hadn’t wanted to fall into the depression and frustration caused by living with Annie and her irrational hopes and dreams.
But she refused to let her mother depress her today, for she was determined to keep her mood as bright as the day. The sun shone in the clear blue sky and spring fever had her floating. And she’d keep floating if she didn’t think about how tonight she’d be at the town hall dance, inhaling the smell of corned beef hash and listening to town gossip, instead of on a real date with Roman Chandler. A girl had to make smart choices and she’d made hers.
Charlotte pushed the doorbell once more, not wanting to use her key and scare her mother or have her think Russell had returned. Annie had never changed her locks and never would. She lived in an eternal state of limbo.
Finally the door to the old house swung open wide and her mother stood in her housecoat. “Charlotte!”