She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and arched up to stretch out sore muscles, vowing to visit a clinic first thing in the morning. But after her mother's endless doctor appointments, live-in nurses, medicine bottles lining the kitchen windowsill, Mary Elise hated admitting to a physical weakness.
Prideful. Silly. Reckless. She could almost hear Danny ticking through her illogical reasoning.
Whipping the well-worn T-shirt over her head, she padded to his master bathroom. For the last time. Once Daniel and the boys returned, she would have to say her goodbyes.
The shower spray hit her with stinging needles of heat.
Stay.
Danny's words from the beach rolled over her in a tidal wave. Give their friendship another chance.
Friendship? Thoughts of him walking around the condo looking for Austin's favorite blanket while she stood n**ed in the shower led her mind to thoughts far from friendlike.
Honestly, she wanted to stay. And, yes, she even wanted to try again. The friendship. Maybe even more. The past days with Danny and the boys had been … everything.
Mary Elise snagged her bottle of shampoo from beside Daniel's. How could she escape the fact that she had to leave? To stay another day would be selfish and not worth the risk. Life seemed to be telling her in a hundred different ways that Kent was still out there.
Returning to the States had brought old memories forward. Stronger. Which likely heightened her emotions to super-sensitivity. Or perhaps her subconscious was tormenting her so she wouldn't be tempted to stay.
And that pissed her off.
Her hands slowed in working the shampoo through her hair. Where was the fear? The ache over Kent's betrayal? All she could feel was a stinging anger like soap in her eyes over all Kent had taken from her.
Well damn. She'd gained something from the past days too.
Seeing herself through Danny's eyes reminded her how far she'd strayed from her essential self. First, losing pieces of her will through Kent's subtle control, then later by hiding while she licked her wounds.
Strength seeped into her with each waft of steam carrying the lingering scent of Daniel's aftershave. Yes, she had to leave. She accepted that. But she didn't have to cower.
She would fight back, scavenge for a plan to reclaim her life. Plans were in short supply at the moment, beyond saving to finance a private detective, but already the renewed strength fueled determination. How odd that until a few days ago she hadn't realized just how much had been stolen from her.>"Gotta go."
Ah, hell. He didn't even want to check out that bed. His revamped budget would have to stretch to cleaning help as well as a nanny.
Daniel sidestepped discarded pj's and performed a military pivot round the corner into the bathroom. He plopped Austin on the tile floor.
In front of the neon-green plastic attachment to the john.
God. His bachelor digs now sported a freaking training seat. He liked the kid and all. Even Trey wasn't a major pain in the ass anymore, his snotty attitude having downgraded to minor pain in the ass, with the occasional quip that actually had Daniel laughing the minute the kid left the room.
He was managing. Doing okay. But that training seat pushed it.
Austin climbed up the step and took aim. Daniel leaned against the doorjamb and waited. And waited. Man, the kid was going like a racehorse. Daniel snagged the footed pj's off the hall carpet along with the pull-up.
Huh?
Well, hell. The thing was dry.
He spun back to Austin. "Way to go, bud."
"Oo-rah." With a big-toothed grin, Austin reached over the sink and pumped purple soap from a dinosaur dispenser.
The spare room door cracked open, Trey stepping out, his yawn closing into a frown. Big surprise. Not. "Wanna hold the party down? Some of us are trying to sleep."
Austin's smile faltered, and Daniel vowed he'd slip peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches in the kid's lunch for a week if Trey didn't ditch the attitude at light speed.
"We're celebrating Austin staying dry through the night. And so should you, pal, since Austin sleeps on the top bunk."
A grin tugged Trey's somber face. He held up a high-five palm.