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Kissing Blair was one thing. Making love to her was something else altogether.
She brushed her finger over her swollen bottom lip. “A simple thank-you would have sufficed.”
Oz didn’t answer, just went back to their dinner.
Looked like they were having blackened chicken Alfredo.
Late the following night, Addy’s little arms reached for Oz. “Night, Dr Oz.” She stifled a yawn. “I love you.”
With only the slightest hesitation, Oz bent and hugged Addy, accepting her kiss. “Night, Pipsqueak.” He tucked the quilt in around her. “Sweet dreams.”
Addy fell asleep almost immediately. No wonder. They’d had a great time out on his friend’s sailboat. Addy had loved the sea, loved pretending they were pirates in search of treasure. She’d chattered nonstop from the time they’d gone out to the time she’d slipped on her pink pajamas from her overnight bag.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he stared at the sleeping little girl, battling another moment of nostalgia.
Not that he recalled ever being tucked into bed or having stories read to him. But spending the evening with Addy, feeling her genuine hug, was nice.
He’d taken her out to eat with friends, a few of whom had ribbed him about robbing the cradle. Oz hadn’t cared. He’d enjoyed his time with
the little girl much more than if he’d taken a date.
Unless, perhaps, that date had been Addy’s mother.
But he couldn’t date Blair, he reminded himself for what seemed like the millionth time.
Not when he couldn’t give her what she’d ultimately want.
He didn’t do commitment.
Hadn’t his father offered commitment to his mother? Just look at how pitifully that had turned out. They’d hurt each other over and over. They’d hated each other. When Oz’s father had died, his mother hadn’t even attended Oswald Manning’s funeral.
Nor was she able to see her son without reminding him how like his father he was. In looks and personality.
Was that how he wanted Blair to view him? As an incurable playboy? Hell, she probably already thought of him in that way. In the name of friendship she’d opened up to him, treated him differently, and he liked her trust. Was he willing to compromise their relationship by pushing for more when he knew more would ultimately destroy everything?
Could he ignore their kiss?
He liked Blair, was attracted to her, and would like to pursue a relationship with her. Only, he wasn’t sure how to define relationship.
In the past, his relationships consisted of his being totally upfront with the women he dated, telling them he wasn’t interested in commitment or long-term. That they’d have fun for however long the attraction lasted and then they’d go their separate ways. No fuss, no mess. Crass, perhaps, but his honesty had worked and his conscience had never bothered him.
The thought of delivering Blair that same sex-without-strings spiel pricked his conscience.
She deserved better than a man only willing to have a good time today and leave her tomorrow.
His gaze dropped to Addy’s innocent face.
Blair had already had a man do that to her once.
He reached out, pushed a lock of Addy’s golden curls away from her cheek. She could be an angel dropped straight from heaven. No wonder Blair fought so hard to protect her from the world. With the fierce protectiveness that filled him, he could only imagine the lengths Blair would go to protect Addy.
He admired the great job she’d done raising the little girl, for providing a stable home for her sister, for being a friend a dying man could count on till his last breath. Blair Pendergrass was a woman who committed to those she cared about, no questions asked, no whining about what might have been.
Did he have any right to expect her to compromise her values to give a lost man like him a chance at redemption?
Midnight had come and long gone when Reesee and Blair returned from Birmingham. Despite the late hour, energized excitement flowed through Blair’s veins. The concert had been fabulous. Their seats had been close enough to feel as if they could reach out and touch “The Boss.”
They’d certainly given it their best shot.
