EMMATaking a sip of my beer, I watched as Noah chugged his. His throat moved up and down, and his eyes closed, his long eyelashes-how was it fair that guys got those?-fanned out on his cheeks. I thought about how odd it was that since my arrival in Florida, I'd gotten close to two men who were such complete opposites in many ways. Deacon was an irresistible mix of the cerebral and the physical, between his crazy intelligent brain and his farmer boy physique. When he wore a suit, he looked as though he'd been born in one, but when he was in jeans, there wasn't any doubt that he was all rugged man.Noah, on the other hand, was so blatantly, in-your-face physical-all muscles and size and incredible sensuality. It would be easy to assume that a dude like him didn't have much going on upstairs, but that would be a mistake. Noah was a gifted mathematician who'd minored in British literature, simply because he loved to read Shakespeare, Dickens, Scott and Austen. He could've had any care
EMMA"Donnie Crew, what's a robust specimen of mankind like you doing in my hospital?" I paused in the doorway of the hospital room, pretending to glare at the man who was perched on the edge of the bed. Donnie grinned back at me. "Just taking up space, Emma. You know me, I can't get enough of this place!" He chuckled and waved his hand. "Come in, come in. Don't linger in the doorway, or the fairies will get you. At least, that's what my grammy used to say." I strolled inside, tucking my tablet into the crook of my arm. "My gran says the same thing. The fairies and the wee people live in the in-between spaces, like thresholds and window sills." "Must be something to it, then. Sit down and stay awhile." Donnie pointed to the chair next to the bed. "I'm just here for the night. I've been in remission long enough, and I'm healthy enough, that I qualified for what that Dr. Alison calls an exciting and promising new study. Maybe something to get rid of this cancer once and for al
I stopped at the nurses' station to check on a couple of patients' test results before I walked down to the lounge to retrieve my salad and handbag. Sliding my sunglasses over my eyes, I pushed open the door to the courtyard and wandered out to join Jenny. "What a beautiful day." I sat down and spread a cloth napkin over my lap. "It never fails to amaze me that the most pleasant weather in Florida happens in November and December." "I know. I have all of the windows at home open-I slept without the air conditioning on last night. It was glorious." Jenny bit into her sandwich. "Makes me remember why I live here." "Oh, you mean the smokin' hot guy who looks like he wants to eat you up with a spoon isn't the reason?" I teased. "He's a big part of it," she admitted cheerfully. "But being in love is even sweeter in Florida. At least, in the fall, the winter and the spring. In the summer, I think I'd rather be in love up in New England, where it's cooler." "Speaking of Nico, did yo
EMMA I'd been a football fan since I was a little girl, watching the Philadelphia games with my dad in our living room or sometimes even going to the stadium, if Dad had time. When I was in junior high, one of my father's patients was the wife of the team's assistant coach. She recovered fully from her battle with breast cancer, and thereafter, we had a standing invitation to request tickets for any home game. It was pretty sweet. But attending a game in Philadelphia, even as a guest of the assistant coach, was nothing like being at the Tampa stadium in the box that hosted the players' families. I stood near the bar, holding my second glass of wine, a vague smile pasted on my face in case anyone happened to look my way. I didn't know a soul here, and I felt awkward, self-conscious and utterly out of place. Noah's parents hadn't arrived yet-he'd texted me this afternoon that their flight had been delayed, thanks to a snowstorm in Madison. Jenny had dropped me off at the stadium ab
EMMA"Emma! There you are. Sorry we got held up-the weather! Gah!" Noah's mother, a tiny woman with bright red hair, burst through the doors and hustled over to my elbow. I leaned down to hug her and then glanced up to smile at Mr. Spencer, who was shrugging off his heavy coat. "I'm so glad you made it. And before kick-off, too." I stepped a little bit away from the group of women who were now watching all of us. "Can I get you both something to drink?" "I'll take care of it, hon," Mr. Spencer patted my shoulder. "What do you have there? Wine? Need a refill?""No, thanks, I'm good." I sipped my still-full glass, relieved that now I had company and didn't have to worry so much about accidentally getting wasted. The elder Spencers steered me to some empty seats down in the viewing area, anxious to get a decent spot to watch the game. "Did you see the interview? Did it turn out all right?" Mr. Spencer's face was anxious. I remembered Noah telling me that for a long time, his dad
EMMA"Finally. I was starting to get worried." Noah was there already, leaning against the counter. His suit jacket was draped over a nearby chair, and he'd tugged loose his tie. "Dad, did you get lost?" "I did not." Mr. Spencer bristled. "I just got a little turned around. I think they changed the road somewhere-and did they put in a new bridge?" "No, Dad. No new bridges." Noah pushed himself away from the counter and gave his mom a hug before offering his hand to his dad. "I'm so glad you guys got to come tonight. Thanks for making the trip down.""It was a pleasure, son. You know that. No place else we'd rather be." Mrs. Spencer beamed at her son. "And we had a lovely time talking with Emma, too." Noah slid his eyes to me. "Hey, Em." He bent to kiss my cheek. "What did you think of the game? And did you get to see the interview?" "I did." I reached out to squeeze his arm. Somehow, being with him centered me again, easing some of the sense of panic. "The game was fantastic-
DEACONThere was nothing like coming home at Christmas. When I got off the airplane in Orlando and walked into the main lobby of the airport, I felt as though I'd stepped into the middle of a holiday frenzy. The huge tree in the center of the terminal was covered with red bows and shiny balls, and all around me, people were buzzing, eager to get to their gate or to the baggage claim. Entire families were greeting loved ones at the end of the secured exit, squealing with excitement, while other groups were clearly theme park-bound. There was no one to greet me when I pulled my wheeled duffle bag past the other passengers. No grandparents waved wildly and then pulled me into a warm hug . . . and no beautiful auburn-haired woman leaped into my arms. I wasn't surprised by the lack of a welcoming committee, because I hadn't told a damn soul that I was coming home. Still, I found my heart was a little lighter as I glanced around at all the happy people. My family and the woman who had
DEACONWell, now the decision of whether to stay or go had been made for me. Once Miss Sissie, my Sunday School teacher of old and one of my grandmother's dearest friends, had seen me, there was no way to make a quick escape. It was time to man up and face the music. I turned off the car, slid the keys out of the ignition and opened my door. Miss Sissie stepped back to give me room, and once I'd stood up and slammed the car door, she opened her arms. "Boy, if you aren't a sight for sore eyes," she murmured in my ear as I bent to hug her. "You've been gone too long. Why, this is the best Christmas present for Anna and Jimmy! They're going to be so tickled to see you." I eased out of her tight hug and straightened up. "Are you sure about that? I'm kind of feeling like the Prodigal Son, Miss Sissie. Like you could just slap me up on your flannel board with the pigs and teach a Sunday School class about bad choices."She tilted her head and skewered me with the same bright eyes tha