Starting Now (Blossom Street #9)(92)

“Don’t worry about it.” He rinsed off the bowls and set them inside the dishwasher.

“And you do cleanup, too.”

“I’m multitalented,” he said, wanting to keep the mood light. Drying off his hands, he joined her in the living room. It was still light out, the sun bright in the late August sky. It was a beautiful day as only late summer could be in the Pacific Northwest.

“What would you like to do?” he asked. “Do you want to go out? I always feel better when I get out on the water for a while.”

She seemed to think it over, then shook her head. “Can we stay right here?”

“Anything, sweetheart.”

“Would you hold me again?”

“Nothing would please me more.”

They cuddled on the sofa. After a while Libby reached for the remote control and turned on the television. Phillip couldn’t remember the last time he’d watched an hour of uninterrupted television. None of the programs were familiar.

He lost track of how long the two of them sat there. He laughed at some crazy sitcom joke and saw Libby break into a weak smile. Seeing her amused, however briefly, gave him such a strong feeling of love that he closed his eyes, unfamiliar with the richness of the emotion. Needing to respond in some way, he kissed the top of her head.

He wasn’t a man who often sat and did nothing. Yet he was at complete peace, being here with Libby, sharing this time with her, knowing she needed him.

What amazed him, what he couldn’t explain, was the knowledge that he needed her, too. Being with her was just as important to him. His reserve was gone, worn away bit by bit as their relationship developed. He’d watched her with the newborns and how she’d stepped up to mentor Ava. This was a woman he could love, a woman he could spend the rest of his life loving.

When the late-night news came on, Phillip knew it was time to leave. Yet he didn’t want to go, didn’t feel good about abandoning her. Not tonight.

“I should get home.”

“Don’t go,” she pleaded, clinging to his arm.

“Libby …”

“I’m not asking you to make love to me.”

“Trust me, darling, you wouldn’t need to ask.” If she only knew how tempting she was, red eyes and all. He’d never been more attracted to a woman than he was that very moment.

She looked up at him and smiled. “I need someone to hold me tonight. Nothing more. Can you do that?”

“For you, my love, anything.”

“Am I your love?” she asked, frowning slightly with the question.

“Yes,” he whispered and bent down to kiss her. Although it would have been easy to allow that lone kiss to become much more, he ended it quickly for fear he wouldn’t have the fortitude to stop. “I love you, Libby. More than I realized it was possible to love someone. I’d mostly given up on falling in love.” If he didn’t love her he’d take her to bed and keep her up all night making love to her. He would do all that when the time was right, but that time wasn’t now. Not tonight.

“Loving you frightens me a little.”

He laughed softly. “Me too. We’re a couple of hard cases, aren’t we?”

In fact it frightened him more than a little, but not enough to give up now. With his arm tucked around her waist, he led her into the bedroom.

Chapter 35

Libby woke Saturday morning to discover Phillip asleep beside her. She blinked, thinking he might be an illusion, and then remembered that she’d lost Amy Jo to Peter’s family. Phillip had been her comfort; she doubted if she could have made it through the night without him. In her grief she’d actually asked him not to leave her. Friday had been one of the lowest points of her life. Libby liked being independent. From the time of her mother’s death, she’d prided herself on her ability to deal with the blows life tossed her. She was strong, capable, and resourceful, but yesterday, she’d badly needed Phillip. She’d clung to him, unable to face the night alone. How easy it would have been for him to make love to her. He hadn’t—all he’d done was hold her close and whisper reassurances.

Although Dr. Phillip Stone enjoyed his hospital reputation of having a stone heart, that was a misnomer. He was actually tenderhearted, compassionate, and kind. Their romance wasn’t based on sexual attraction, although that was definitely there. Oh yes, it was present and accounted for in spades, but tightly controlled on both sides. Neither one was willing to allow hormones to rule their actions. The pain of broken relationships had left scar tissue on his heart and on hers, too. Both had been wary of getting involved again, cautious—perhaps overly so.

The draw she felt for Phillip was beyond the physical. At one time Phillip had been trapped into thinking work was the solution to all of life’s issues. Like her, his profession had fed his ego and allowed him to bury his problems behind a protective wall. But Phillip had broken free of his workaholic tendencies, and because he had she felt the hope and confidence that she could, too. Really they were kindred spirits, alike in so many ways.

He must have felt her scrutiny because his eyes slowly opened. “Morning,” he said, stretching his arms above his head and releasing a yawn. He tossed aside the sheets and surged upright. It seemed that only then did he remember the reason he had stayed the night. He sat on the edge of the mattress and turned back to look at her.