clenched until his jaw ached. He’d been over and over this years ago and had come up empty.
Someone else came into the lounge and cleared her throat, making him realize a woman was waiting, pen in hand, to sign up for something. He took a couple of steps back and let her take his place.
His gaze cut back to the name of the local capoeira studio. Did Tessa still train there? When they’d been together, she’d sent him a handwritten invitation, asking him to come and learn a little more about her Brazilian heritage. He’d accepted without hesitation. And it had been worth it. Watching her work out inside the circle they called a roda had been beyond sexy—the intricate, flowing moves had highlighted the lean lines of her body and made capoeira look more like a dance than a true martial art.
He’d soon learned differently. It was just as passionate and fiery as Tessa was—and just as proud.
He shook himself back to the present as the attractive brunette finished writing her name and turned toward him with a smile, her dark eyes skipping over him. “Thanks. Better get in there and choose something. Pickings are getting mighty slim.”
“So it would seem.” He managed to return her smile, although the last thing he wanted to do was engage in small talk with a member of the opposite sex. He’d been burned twice now. Maybe he should have become a priest, like his cousin.
Except he did like women. He just didn’t have the knack for long-term relationships, evidently. That was one gene his parents—married for thirty-five years now—hadn’t passed down to him.
“See ya,” the brunette said with yet another smile, although she didn’t try to introduce herself, as Tessa’s friend had. He was just as glad.
“Yep. Good luck with that.” He nodded toward the board.
“You, too. Maybe we’ll wind up volunteering for the same thing.”
That was probably meant as a hint, but since Clay hadn’t even noticed what she’d signed up for, she was out of luck. “Maybe.”
She exited the room, leaving Clay to stare at the sheet again and wonder about Tessa and the studio. Especially when he looked closer and noticed that she hadn’t signed up for anything, either, although the list of businesses didn’t have slots for sign-ups. They must be using their own people in the rented booths.
It didn’t matter. How hard could an hour or two of volunteer work be? He could always sign up for the cleanup crew, which still had several time periods available. That way he wouldn’t have to interact with anyone.
But right now all he wanted to do was get to work and forget about his encounter with a certain redhead.
Except that a few parts of Clay were still smoldering from seeing her again. Time to remedy that. The sooner he could locate his mental fire extinguisher and douse those areas with a mixture of foam and water, the better it would be. For both of them.
WHERE WAS HIS EX-WIFE?
Clay sat in the hospital cafeteria with Molly and listened to his daughter chatter on about all she’d done with Grandma and Grandpa yesterday evening. He couldn’t hold back a sigh as she bounced in her chair and scooped up a bite of fruit from her plate.
His parents had been stoic all during his divorce, although they must have been disappointed in him for not working harder to make things work. He’d tried. Hell, he’d never expected his marriage to end in divorce any more than they had. But nothing he’d tried had worked. He’d compromised on where he’d practiced medicine to be closer to the house. He’d taken on the bulk of Molly’s care when she’d been a baby. He’d even gone to marriage counseling.
And yet here he sat.
His biggest failures in life, it seemed, had to do with women.
One thing his mom and dad had been overjoyed about had been getting the chance to be deeply involved in their granddaughter’s life. And it seemed yesterday had been no exception—with the trio heading out to Central Park for a walk with their Dalmatian, Jack.
He glanced at his watch, his impatience growing. Lizza was almost a half hour late, and he was supposed to be at work in a few more minutes. He’d been hoping to have a little time to get to know the ropes before jumping right into his morning rounds. But it looked as if that wasn’t going to happen.
Out of the corner of his eye he spied a familiar figure at the checkout counter. Only it wasn’t Lizza. He groaned out loud.
“What is it, Daddy?”
He pulled his attention back to his daughter’s blue eyes. “Nothing. I was just thinking about work.”
“Oh. Okay. Do I have to go to Mommy’s?”
The same question had been repeated for the past two visits. Clay didn’t know what to do about it. Lizza traveled for weeks at a time, visiting European fashion houses in search of ideas for new designs. Molly hadn’t spent more than a handful of weekends with her mom in the past year. And Lizza didn’t help by being so fastidious about her house and furniture. Molly wasn’t even three and a half yet. She needed to be a kid. But he’d learned to keep his mouth shut, as long as his ex didn’t do anything to damage their daughter’s self-esteem.
So he settled for a response that he hoped was conciliatory. “Mommy would be sad if you didn’t.”
“I know.” Said with a sigh that made his gut clench.
If someone had told him four years ago that after his breakup with Tessa he’d have rebound sex that would result in a pregnancy and marriage, he’d have said that person was out of their gourd. And yet here he was. Only he was crazy about his daughter. So were his parents. It made all the crap he’d put up with from Lizza bearable.
He looked back toward the checkout area just as Tessa turned around, scanning the place for a spot to sit. It was breakfast time and the place was packed with medical personnel, all scarfing down a quick bite before facing a new day.
Her glance skidded past his and then stopped for a long second, her green eyes closing for a brief instant before reopening and sliding back his way again. She gave him a quick nod and then kept looking for someplace to sit.
Only there wasn’t any.
Come on, Lizza. Hurry up.
In the meantime, he couldn’t leave Tessa standing there, so he motioned her over. He could have sworn her mouth gave a pained grimace before she moved in their direction. He had no doubt if there had been any other person in the place that she knew, she would have gone to sit with them instead.
He was her last choice.
Well, some things never changed.
She set her tray next to Molly’s, her brows coming together slightly, although she didn’t ask the question he knew had to be swirling around her head.
His daughter had no such inhibitions. “I’m Molly. Who are you?”
Tessa blinked. “I’m Dr. Camara. How are you?”
“I’m waiting on my mommy.”
His stomach tightened again. Left with no other choice, he made the introductions. “Tessa, this is my daughter.”
“Is she your friend?” Molly asked.
“An old friend, yes.” He looked at Tessa and dared her to correct him. She didn’t, dropping into the chair across from him instead.
“That’s right. Your dad and I knew each other a long time ago when we were both in school.”
“Oh. Did you know Mommy, too?”
Tessa’s teeth came down on her lower lip for a minute.