That aspect hadn’t occurred to her but, now Leon had raised it, the prospect bothered her more than she liked. She handed her boys, her most precious parts of herself, over each day, trusting they would be safe in the care of Daisy and her staff. Was it possible Stevie hadn’t been watched carefully enough?
She was conscious of Leon’s gaze on her profile. “Daisy has been doing that job a long time. Almost ten years. I’ve never heard of a problem at the center.” His voice was reassuring.
Flora relaxed a little. “Stevie is like a whirlwind. They both are. I guess all it takes is for the adult in charge to look away at the wrong moment.” Even so, she would double-check with Daisy about supervision when she next spoke to her.
They found a booth and sat down, the twins causing a distraction from more serious matters with their insistence that they both needed to sit next to Dr. Leon. It was a strange sensation. Normally Flora was the person they fought over. Now she was a spectator as, one on each side of him, they vied for Leon’s attention. He handled it well, with a combination of gentleness and firm good humor.
“Do you have children?” The words slipped out before she stopped to consider whether they were intrusive.
The question brought an abrupt end to his smiles. As he looked up from the twins’ chatter, she thought his eyes were the most intense she had ever seen them. They were dark green, reminding her of lake water in the early evening light. In that instant, their depths appeared to hold a world of pain and secrets.
“No.”
That curt negative was clearly all the response she was going to get. No additional information, no sense of how he felt about the question, no change in his facial expression.
Then he smiled, his mood changing swiftly. “I’m informed that Stevie likes ‘choclit’ and Frankie likes ’anilla.”
“And Mommy likes scotch,” Frankie said.
“He means butterscotch sauce. I’m not an alcoholic.” Flora’s cheeks flamed as she realized what she’d said. “I didn’t mean...”
She was still floundering helplessly when the waitress came to take their order. Lapsing into silence, she watched as Leon assured the twins they could have both sprinkles and syrup. He also chatted to the young waitress about how her grandmother was doing after her operation. It was as if he was going out of his way to demonstrate how to make polite conversation. Flora wanted to put her head in her hands and groan. She had just ricocheted right off the scale of tactlessness and now she had to find a way to make amends.
The waitress brought coloring pencils and dinosaur pictures for the twins. For once, they bent their heads over their task, both determined to do their best picture for Dr. Leon.
Flora launched straight into her apology. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why not? You aren’t an alcoholic. I am. Well, if we’re going to be precise about terminology, I have PTSD that caused a drinking problem. I’m now in recovery from the disease.” She hated that she had triggered discussion of this battle. “Please don’t worry that my patients are in danger. Or anyone else.” His gaze went to the twins. “I’ve been sober for two years and I plan on staying that way. But my past is no secret. I’m sure the Stillwater scandal-stirrers have shared every fascinating detail.”
The tone was brave, if self-mocking. But his half-smile and the hurt in his eyes...they were both prompting her in the same, unexpected direction. She wanted to move around the table and hug him. To try to take away some of the pain. Instead, she settled for a light touch on his wrist. Just the brush of her fingertips against his flesh caused a wildfire reaction, almost a jolt of static electricity, except this was internal. Starting deep inside and zinging along her nerve endings, it was raw, breathtaking, and unlike anything she had ever felt before.
Probably just as well I decided against the hug.
Leon’s indrawn breath told her the contact had affected him in the same way. Self-consciously, Flora withdrew her hand. This day was taking a series of unexpected turns. “I try not to listen to gossip. I know how much damage it can do.”
Leon raised a brow. “That sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”
“Our stories may be different, but they have both taken place under the glare of the public spotlight.” She regretted the words immediately. It was a long way from opening her heart, but it felt like too much. Cutting her gaze away from his, she fell silent. She still wasn’t comfortable talking about what had happened. Somehow, it felt like a betrayal to Danny.
Flora was glad when any further conversation was brought to a halt as the waitress arrived with their order. By the time Flora had tucked serviettes into the front of the twins’ T-shirts, given reminders about the use of spoons instead of hands and warned Leon that he might want to get out of the firing line of food projectiles, she felt ready to change the topic.
“I spoke with Dr. Lamb earlier. He is sending the autopsy report to the Ryerson Center. That should speed up the process.”
Leon maintained eye contact while holding on to Frankie’s wrist as he tried to launch a spoonful of ice cream in the direction of his twin. “Is there any service your center can’t provide?”
Although there was a trace of bitterness, she sensed a genuine interest behind the question. She contemplated the best way to answer it, which was not an easy task when Leon was sitting opposite her looking so delicious.
Even the blob of vanilla ice cream in the center of his blue tie couldn’t detract from the fact that he was easily the most handsome man she had ever seen. His looks had a bad boy edge at odds with his obvious desire to hide away and not draw attention to himself.
