“We were, but that’s not the point.”
He bent his head and kissed her cheek then kissed her jaw. He moved his mouth against the side of her neck, across her shoulder. Her skin was warm and smelled like some exotic flower. He felt her body pressing against his and knew there was something to be said for dancing, after all. “What is the point?” he asked, referring to her previous statement.
She blinked at him. “I have no idea what we were talking about.”
He laughed. “I like that you’re easy.”
“I’m actually not. Or I guess I am, but only around you.”
He stopped dancing and looked into her eyes. “It’s the same for me, too.”
Someone bumped into them. Simon pulled her against him and began dancing again.
They danced to several more songs, drank champagne and tasted the hors d’oeuvres. He debated bond measures for local schools with the town treasurer and discussed jail versus community service with the police chief. When Montana excused herself to use the restroom, he was deep in conversation with the mayor.
“Kent and I were wondering if we could borrow the good doctor.”
Simon found himself between Kent and Ethan Hendrix.
“Of course,” Mayor Marsha said and walked away.
“Having a good time?” Ethan asked, leading Simon out the French doors and onto the lawn.
There were fewer people here. The sun had set and the stars had come out, but he didn’t think they had left the ballroom to look at the view.
“How can I help you?”
Ethan and Kent exchanged a look.
“We want to talk about Montana. At the risk of sounding like a cowboy in an old Western, what are your intentions?”
Montana was in her late twenties, had lived on her own for years and would probably shriek if she knew what her brothers were asking. But Simon got the point. These men cared about her and wanted to make sure she was taken care of.
“I’m not discussing my personal life with you.”
“Sure you are. Montana says you’re one of the good guys. Don’t make her a liar.” The dramatic statement was tempered by Ethan’s obvious sincerity.
But there were no bad guys here. He was leaving. Simon’s stay had always been temporary. He was no threat, nor was he a permanent fixture in their sister’s life.
He’d made it clear that he was leaving, hadn’t he? Still, when she called herself his girlfriend, he’d let her. And he’d been pleased. He’d mentioned he might come back to visit. Was she thinking he meant more than that?
He’d screwed up, he realized. He’d misled her in the most fundamental of ways and never realized it until now.
“Excuse me,” he said, pushing past them and returning to the ballroom.
He wove his way through the crowd, searching for the gorgeous blonde in a short black dress. The woman he planned on making love with later that night. The woman who haunted his dreams and drove him crazy every time he saw her.
He found her talking to Charity Golden.
“Hello, Charity. Do you mind if I talk to Montana for a moment?”
“Of course not.”
“Thanks.”
He took Montana’s hand and led her out of the ballroom. Not outside where her brothers might still be waiting, but back toward the entrance. He found a quiet alcove and faced her.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
He stared into her dark eyes, searching for the truth. “Do you love me?”
Her mouth parted slightly and she flushed. For a second she said nothing, then she raised her chin and spoke. “Yes, Simon, I love you.”
The words were like a kick to his gut. His muscles tensed and he found it hard to breathe.
He should’ve seen this coming, he thought as he turned his back on her. He swore under his breath. What the hell had he been thinking? She wasn’t anything like the women he was used to. Not cold, not calculating, not familiar with a man like him. He’d been nothing but selfish, thinking only of himself, of what he wanted.
He turned back to her. Her mouth curved up into a shaky smile.
“Your reaction tells me this isn’t the best of news.”
“Montana,” he began, then stopped. What was he supposed to say? How could he make this right?
His phone vibrated in his jacket pocket.
He pulled it out and flipped it open. There was a text message. Even as he began to read it, his phone rang.
“It’s Kalinda,” he said.
She gave him a push. “Go.”
He was already running, heading back to the hospital.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
KALINDA’S BODY WAS SHUTTING down. Simon knew it before he walked into her room and saw Fay and her husband in each other’s arms, weeping. He scanned her chart, then walked over to examine her, determined to figure out what was wrong.
Even though he already knew.
Fay saw him and lunged toward him. “Dr. Bradley, it’s bad. It’s really bad. You have to do something.”