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“Clara?”
She glanced to the side, finding Andrew approaching her. It was as though her thoughts had conjured up his presence. There had always been some sort of unexplainable link between them, almost as though they could read each other’s minds. Was that what had brought him there today?
She gave herself a mental jerk, realizing she was being foolish. She was certain Brooke must have told him where she was. The young woman was a bit of a matchmaker at heart. But in this instance, Brooke’s efforts were misguided.
When he caught sight of her, he smiled. The breath caught in her throat. Oh, my, he was so handsome. Even more so than when he was younger. And he kept staring right at her. Her heart thump-thumped.
“Andrew.” Clara jumped to her feet, sending a slip of paper with some notes Tula had written out for the wedding fluttering to the ground. “I, ah, didn’t know you’d be here.”
He stopped next to her. Before he could bend over, she knelt, grabbing the paper from under the bench. When she stood back up, his smile had vanished. His face was now marred with lines bracketing his eyes and mouth.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“I should have been able to pick that up for you, but my leg just doesn’t cooperate like it should.”
“It’s okay. After all, I dropped it.”
His lips pressed together in a firm line, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. It was all written in his rigid stance and deep frown. He was frustrated by his limitations. She couldn’t blame him. She didn’t know how she’d react if she’d sustained such tremendous injuries. Her guess was that he’d far surpassed any prediction the doctors had made about his recovery. That was Andrew for you, always pushing himself.
Maybe the problem was that no one ever told him how inspiring he was by living his life on his own terms and not giving in to his injuries. “You know, you’re doing amazing. After hearing your story, it’s a miracle you’re even walking. You are—”
“Not the man I used to be. Not even close.”
Well, if that’s the way he wanted to play it, she could, too. “You’re right.” When his brows rose, she realized she had his full attention. “You’re a better man.”
He shook his head. “Don’t, Clara. I don’t need to hear a pep talk. I had my head filled with those well-intended platitudes while I was in rehab.”
What was up with him today? Was it the kiss? Did he regret it? Either way, she wasn’t going to put up with his defeatist attitude. This wasn’t the man she’d once known so well. “This isn’t a pep talk.”
“Whatever it is, I don’t want it.”
“What you need right now is a swift kick in the backside.” And she was quite tempted to deliver it.
The corners of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. “I’m surprised you haven’t done that yet.”
“Trust me, I’ve been quite tempted.”
A small smile lifted his lips. “Still the feisty Clara I used to know.”
This was her opening. “But you aren’t the AndrewI used to know.”
He shrugged. “Things happen.”
“I’m not referring to the accident. At least not directly. The man standing before me has grown.” When he frowned at her, she added, “The Andrew I used to know wouldn’t have flown to California to support his brother. That Andrew would have been too busy building his career and not had time to take an extended vacation.”
“Do you really believe that?”
She nodded. “I do.”
He rested his hands on his trim waist. “And here I was just thinking you’ve changed, too, working more and not having time for a personal life. Or perhaps you’re just using your work to avoid it.”
She didn’t like how well he could read her. Her defenses went up around her. “How would you know? You haven’t been here that long.”
“It doesn’t take much for one workaholic to recognize the signs in someone else. First, there’s your caffeine addiction. I saw your collection of mugs in your office. Some things don’t change.”
She shrugged. “That doesn’t mean anything. A lot of people love coffee.”
“And then there’s the lack of a significant other.”
