Chapter 4

“You’re seriously going to do this? Go on a date with Harrison Thornton?”

Sara gazed at her sister in the mirror. Megan had a look on her face that was equal parts disgust and incredulity, which wasn’t helping Sara’s nerves one bit.

Why had she agreed to go on a date with Harrison? She was a Flannigan, and he was a Thornton. Talk about two completely different kinds of people.

“Do you think I should cancel?” Sara asked.

Megan pursed her lips. “What do you want to do?”

Sara almost screamed in frustration. She didn’t know! Half of her wanted to see Harrison again, while the other half wanted to run away like a scared rabbit.

She couldn’t stop thinking about his smile, about how handsome and intelligent he was. How he entered a room and everyone paid attention. How he’d paid attention to her.

“I don’t want to cancel,” she finally replied. She smoothed her silky blouse down with trembling hands. “It’s just a date,” she repeated. She didn’t know if she were saying it for her own benefit or for Megan’s.

“True, and you get a free meal out of it. No way will he let you try to pay for it.” Megan tugged Sara into a nearby chair. “Let me do your hair for you. The best thing you can do is be as hot as possible, and then dump him when he gets too close.”

Sara rolled her eyes. “That’s what you would do, not me. And we both know you’re not talking about Harrison this time.”

Megan shrugged, but Sara could see the strain in her sister’s expression. Megan refused to talk about her hostility toward Caleb Thornton, but everyone in the entire town knew how they hated each other. Sara had a distinct feeling there was more to it than sheer hatred, though. And wasn’t hatred the closest emotion to love in the human psyche? Both inspired intense reactions.

Megan began to put Sara’s hair in some kind of braided up-do that Sara would never be able to replicate. After she’d told Megan about her date, her sister had at first refused to help her get ready at all. She hated the Thorntons, and she reminded Sara more than once that it was Harrison’s friends who’d started rumors about her back in high school. Rumors that had caused her untold misery and made her run away from Fair Haven as soon as she’d gotten her diploma.

Sara had countered that Megan had no proof that Harrison had been involved in those rumors, so blaming him for them was ridiculous. Besides, he’d already graduated by the time Sara had started high school, so really, how could he have known while away at college? Megan had simply replied that he could’ve put a stop to them if he’d wanted to, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t returned to Fair Haven to see friends on break. He—and his entire family—ran the town. Whatever they said was law.

Tonight, Ruth had taken James out while Sara got ready. Ruth hadn’t commented on Sara’s date choice, but she had given her a look that had said don’t do anything stupid.

Why did everyone think Sara didn’t know what she was getting into?

“There, how about that?” Megan added one last bobby pin to Sara’s hair. “Very pretty. He’s not going to know what hit him.”

Sara gazed into the mirror and, for the first time in a long time, she felt pretty. And young. Ever since James’s cancer and her subsequent divorce, she hadn’t had time to do anything but survive.

Tonight, she would have fun. No matter how her family felt about her particular date.

As the time drew nearer for Harrison to pick her up, though, her nerves only increased. Was she making a huge mistake? He was her son’s doctor. If they didn’t work out, she’d have to find a new one, or worse, continue to see him despite their past association. How awkward! Her palms got sweaty, and she considered turning on the AC despite the cool weather outside. It didn’t help that Megan kept looking at her like she was waiting for Sara to change her mind.

She wasn’t Megan. She didn’t hate the Thorntons for what was, in her mind, ancient history. Although remembering the humiliation of returning to high school that morning, all those years ago, and having people whisper behind their locker doors as she walked down the hallway. She’s a slut. I heard she slept with the entire football team. The slurs had followed her from class to class, like a trail of shadows. By the time Sara had gotten to World History last period, she’d sat down amidst a crowd of her fellow students giggling at her. Someone had poked her in the shoulder, and she’d turned to see Devin Yates grinning cruelly.

“Hey, I heard you needed some of these,” he’d said as he’d tossed a string of condom packets onto her desk. The class had erupted into laughter that had only stopped when the teacher had entered. By that point, Sara had stashed the condoms away and had run from the classroom to the nurse’s office.

She forced the memories away. Harrison had been at college when that had happened. It didn’t make sense to blame him.

The doorbell rang. Megan got up, but Sara glared at her to sit down. She wasn’t going to have her sister scare away her date.

Maybe I should tell him I can’t do this, Sara thought wildly. But when she opened the door and saw Harrison standing there, wearing a striped dress shirt and perfectly tailored trousers, his hair tousled just so, all thoughts of canceling evaporated.

“Sara,” he said in an appreciative tone. He took in her outfit—blouse, floral A-line skirt, and delicate heels. “You look beautiful.”

She couldn’t help it: she blushed. She’d laugh at herself if she could, acting like some love-struck teenager. Wasn’t she a formerly married woman with a son? But all of that went out the window when she looked at Harrison Thornton.

Megan took the chance to come up behind Sara, and Sara saw Harrison’s expression change.

“Megan, nice to see you,” he said in a smooth voice.

Before Megan could say anything snotty, Sara took her arm and pinched her. Megan let out a yelp, but at Sara’s look, she bit her tongue.

“You guys have fun. Talk to you later, sis.” Megan hugged Sara before nodding at Harrison.

On the drive to the restaurant, Sara struggled with what to say. But Harrison broke the silence when he said, “Your sister is something.”

Sara couldn’t help it: she laughed. “That’s one way to put it. She’s always been like that. Her mouth got her into trouble when we were kids, and not much has changed.”

Harrison smiled at her. “You were the good, responsible child, I take it? While she was the wild child?”

She swallowed against a dry throat. Until everyone thought I was a slut, yes, she almost responded. She bit back the words. “Something like that. I basically raised Megan, although we’re only a year apart.”

“I’m sorry,” he said simply.

When she caught his gaze, she knew he meant it. Most people didn’t think of the implications when Sara said that she raised her own sister, but Harrison’s expression conveyed sympathy. But not pity.

Her heart warmed.

By the time they arrived at the restaurant, Sara’s nervousness had faded away. Harrison took her to The Fainting Goat for happy hour, and they were seated at a booth near the back that provided them with some measure of privacy. She couldn’t help but wonder if people were looking at them—or more correctly, wondering what a Thornton was doing with a Flannigan.

Who cares what they think? she told herself. I’m not going to let anyone else ruin this evening. She squared her shoulders and sat down across from Harrison, determined to have a good time. No matter what her sister, the town, or God himself said about this date.

“Did I tell you that you look beautiful?” he said after they had ordered. His gaze traced her body, and she shivered underneath the heat in his eyes. “Purple suits you. You should always wear purple.”

“Even purple pants? Purple shoes? Purple hats?” she teased. “How far should this purple thing go?”

“All purple, all the time.” He leaned toward her to growl, “And most especially, purple lingerie.”

Her heart pounded, thinking about wearing lingerie as Harrison looked at her. Touched her. Kissed her. Normally a man saying something like that to her would’ve resulted in a glass of water in the face, but he said it with such easy confidence that it only made her desire him more.

God, she was in deep.

“Purple lingerie? I’ll have to look into it.” She traced the condensation on her glass of cider in a slow movement.

His expression darkened. She was about to ask him if he’d like to help her pick out a set when their food arrived.

“You guys need anything else?” the waitress asked.

“No, we’re fine. Thank you,” Harrison replied.

The waitress smiled, her blond ponytail bouncing as she walked back to the kitchen.

Generally Harrison found that dates went two ways: either there was no chemistry and it ended without pursuing anything further, or there was chemistry and they went another date, then maybe another, before ending up in bed together. Rarely did any date stray from those two results.

Tonight was the exception. It wasn’t that there was no chemistry—there was an overabundance of chemistry. So much chemistry that he was surprised the table wasn’t vibrating from the electricity sparking between him and Sara. She kept looking up at him through her eyelashes, smiling a mysterious smile that sent him into a tailspin. Had he ever found a woman eating a salad erotic? Well, tonight he was discovering that watching Sara do just that was causing him to be crazed with need.

And they hadn’t even kissed.

Maybe it was the way her cheeks flushed when he complimented her, or the way her breasts pushed against the buttons of her blouse. Maybe it was how her slim fingers held her glass of cider, or even worse, how they traced patterns on the glass itself—patterns that Harrison wanted to feel on his skin.

He wanted her. He wanted her badly. If this night didn’t end with him at least kissing her, he’d probably explode from unabated lust.

“How’s James? Has he been practicing any basketball lately?” he asked.

Sara smiled that warm smile she had solely for her son. “He’s only asked me about twenty times when he can sign up for basketball, conveniently forgetting that I’ve told him that the season doesn’t start until later this year. But yes, he’s doing great. I can’t tell you again how much I appreciate your taking my concerns seriously. I’ve had other physicians who tended to think I was hysterical.”

She said the words with a shrug, but they made Harrison clench his fist underneath the table. What asshole had waved away her legitimate concerns about her son? Made her feel like she was overreacting when her son had suffered from cancer, one of the worst things a parent could face in regards to their child?

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad that he’s healthy. That’s the best result any physician can ask for,” he said.

“When he was sick, I imagined him growing up. Going to college, getting married, having children of his own. I thought about him being a rebellious teenager, sneaking out of the house at night to see his girlfriend. Or boyfriend.” She smiled, lost in thought. “I celebrated when he misbehaved. Weird, right? But that meant he had the energy to disobey. I prayed so many nights that I’d get the chance to see him grow up and see him do good things. And maybe a few bad, but not too many. A mother has to draw the line somewhere.”

“Considering his history, when he was diagnosed, and his prognosis now, there’s no reason he won’t grow up to be that annoying teenager.” Harrison grinned. “But maybe don’t wish for a teenager who sneaks out of the house. I did that and my mom tanned my hide when I got home. One time I was grounded for an entire month.”

She clucked her tongue. “Who would’ve thought the revered Dr. Thornton would’ve been such a naughty teenage boy?”

“Oh, you have no idea how naughty I can be.” He couldn’t stop the growl lacing those words, and when he saw her eyes widen, he felt like he could conquer the world.

She was attracted to him, that was more than apparent. If he played his cards right, they could both get some enjoyment out of this insane chemistry brimming between them.

“Harrison, how have you been?” A man shouted from across the restaurant, and Harrison watched as a very drunk Devin Yates—once a good friend, now more of a town annoyance—stumbled over to their table.

Harrison had to restrain himself from tossing Devin across the room, especially when he finally noticed Sara and exclaimed, “Sara Flannigan! Jesus Christ, seriously?” For whatever reason, he thought that was hilarious, and he started laughing so loudly that they were attracting stares.

Harrison saw Sara flush in anger. Did she even remember Devin? He vaguely remembered that they would’ve been in high school around the same time.

“Shit, I haven’t seen you in forever,” Devin continued as he stared at Sara. “How’s it going? You still up to your old tricks? Man, the stories we’d hear about you! You were a legend.”

Harrison stilled. “Devin, you’re drunk,” he said in a slow voice, venom lacing the words. “You should leave.”

“Aw, come on. You knew about Sara? She was famous. Getting with the entire football team—”

She blanched.

“Leave. Leave, now, before I make you.” Harrison’s voice was low, threatening, as he stood up in front of Devin.

Devin blinked before he narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck, man? Don’t act like you don’t know. She was the town tramp—”

Devin didn’t get to finish that sentence. Harrison grabbed him by the wrist and wrenched his arm behind his back. Devin swore, but Harrison just held him harder.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, and I don’t want to know,” he hissed, anger swirling through him. “But you’re going to apologize, and then you’re going to leave before I leave your face permanently rearranged.”

Devin struggled, but he was too drunk to put up a real fight. Finally, when he realized Harrison wasn’t letting up, he said, “Fine. Sorry. You happy?”

“Look at her when you say it.”

“Sorry,” he sneered. “I didn’t know you’d claimed the slut for yourself.”

Harrison didn’t think: he reacted. He hauled Devin out the door of the Fainting Goat and, slamming him against the brick wall of the restaurant, punched him in the stomach. Devin collapsed in a heap at his feet. “Go home. You’re a disgrace.”

Harrison turned, only to run into Trent Younger. Trent glanced over Harrison’s shoulder to see Devin slumped onto the ground, moaning.

“Don’t lecture me, man,” Harrison replied in a tight voice.

“I wasn’t going to. I was going to punch him if you weren’t, but I see you did a decent job.” Trent’s mouth twisted. “He’s a piece of shit, and has been for ages. Somebody needed to punch him.”

Harrison laughed a little at that. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. He needed to check on Sara. Oh God, the look on her face. Anger took over once again, and it was only Trent’s hand on his arm that stopped him from punching Devin a second time.

“Leave it, man. Not worth having your brother arrest you. Go take care of your date.”

Entering the restaurant, Harrison didn’t see Sara at their booth. Fear rushed through him until he saw that she was surrounded by some of the patrons and waitresses near the bar. Her face was stricken and pale. Rushing toward the group, he said, “Let’s go.”

Sara didn’t argue. They walked past Devin staggering away, but Sara didn’t say anything. He escorted her to his car and, after forcing aside the anger still boiling inside him, asked, “Are you okay?”

She wiped at her eyes. “Do you think I’m okay?”

He swore. Leaning over, he touched her face. “Devin’s a piece of shit, and a drunk one at that. Don’t let what he said get to you.”

“You never knew, did you?” Her words were a whisper.

“What do you mean?”

But she was shaking her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. Take me home. Please.”

He wanted to comfort her, take her into his arms, but he put the car in drive and took her home instead.

At the front door of her small house, he couldn’t stop from pulling her into his arms for a hug. She instantly wound her arms around him, and he reveled in her closeness. In her sweet scent, her warmth.

“What did you do to Devin?” she asked.

“I punched him.”

He was expecting her to rebuke him, but she said simply, “Good.”

As she gazed up at him, her eyes shining in the low light of the streetlamps, Harrison couldn't untangle his feelings. Protectiveness, anger, desire, joy, all swirled together until only one thought was coursing through his brain: I need her.

When he cupped her face in his hands, she didn’t pull away. She tipped her head back, and that was all the permission he needed. He kissed her with an intensity he’d never felt before. She tasted like cider and mint, all sweetness and light. He brushed the remaining tears from her cheeks as the kiss only deepened. Licking inside her mouth, he poured everything he had into that one kiss.

She made a little noise in the back of her throat. God, she was gorgeous. He wanted her in every way a man could have a woman.

But then she broke the kiss. “It’s getting late,” she said, breathless.

He was already hard, straining, and the desire inside him was a veritable storm. He wanted to take her back to his house and ravish her until she was hoarse from screaming his name.

“Okay,” he replied. He set her free. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Then she stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, for everything.”

He murmured in reply, “You’re welcome, Sara.”