Playboy Surgeon, Top-Notch Dad

“Definitely a keeper,” Oz agreed with Addy’s assessment, saving the photo to his phone before allowing her to snap a photo of Pete and the sand castles.

Oz’s conversation with Latham Duke popped into Blair’s head. A keeper. And Oz was a catch-and-release man.

Their gazes met, held. Was he remembering too? Was that why his expression had turned serious?

Looking away, he tweaked Addy’s nose. “I’ll have the pictures printed for you, Pipsqueak.”

Somewhere down the beach someone was cooking out and the scent of hamburgers drifted on the breeze.

Blair’s stomach growled.

Oz looked at where she sat and grinned. “Hungry?”

Had her belly really just growled that loud? Blair burst out laughing. “A little.”

Standing, she brushed the sand from her shorts.

“I am a lot.” He reached for Blair, letting her pull him to his feet. His hand lingered on hers, his thumb tracing over her flesh. His gaze danced mischievously, his lips twitched, but his hand fell away.

Dozens of emotions roared to life inside her, growling in protest much louder than her stomach had. Unfortunately, the emotion she recognized most was loss at Oz’s hand no longer touching hers. Also, sadness that nothing could ever happen between them. They were too different. Not only that but, sooner or later, Oz would leave to go back to Rochester and his playboy life.

And they were friends.

“Come on, Pipsqueak.” He tugged on Addy’s pigtail. “It’s time for us to feed your mom.”

Addy hated to say goodbye to her new friend, but she finally waved to Pete and his parents.

When they arrived back at Dr Talbot’s, Oz popped turkey burgers onto the grill. Stephanie, Addy and Blair worked in the kitchen putting together whatever they could find to go with burgers.

When the burgers finished cooking, Oz placed the platter on the picnic table.

“Come and get ’em,” he called with a cowboy twang, despite the fact they all stood within a few feet of him.

Addy giggled at the goofy way he’d said it. Blair just rolled her eyes.

Stephanie filled a plate for Dr Talbot, but he picked at his food more than he ate. Stephanie coddled him, fussing over him with great ado, even offering to cut up his food and feed him. He gave her a dirty look. Otherwise, he smiled and seemed to enjoy the evening, although fatigue was written all over his face.

Other than for doctor appointments, he rarely left his house these days. With the trip to the Heart Association this morning, spending the afternoon with Stephanie, and now their cookout, he’d had a long day.

Oz stepped onto the back porch and sat down in the lawn swing with Blair. He’d been playing with Addy and Boo-boo, but the dog now rested at Dr Talbot’s feet.

“What were you so serious about when I came over here?”

“I was thinking about Dr Talbot.”

Oz’s gaze settled where Dr Talbot sat with Addy curled in the crook of his arm, reading him a story more from memory than ability to interpret all the words. “He’s a grown man, Blair. Whatever he decides, we’ll support him. It’s his decision to make, not ours.”

“But—”

“I don’t want him to die any more than you do.”

Blair flinched at the anger in his voice, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“There’s no guarantee the Xabartan would work. Don’t you think I’d have him in Rochester if there was? But there isn’t. There’s no way of knowing if he’d have complications and die sooner.” Seeming to realize he’d lost his cool, Oz inhaled deeply, sent her an apologetic look. “Whether or not we ever find out is his decision. Not ours. Let up on him, Blair.”

“There’s no guarantee the Xabartan wouldn’t work. He should try.” He had so many reasons to want to live, so many people who wanted him as part of their lives. “He has to try, Oz. He has to.”

His expression softening, Oz reached for her hand and gave a comforting squeeze. “You can’t put pressure on him to do what you want, rather than what he wants. We have to honor his wishes.”