Unexpected Chances (2 page)

She tried to breathe steadily, a nearly impossible feat when he was still so good-looking, sexy and, damn him, charming in person. His raven hair had barely any gray and those blue eyes were just as bright.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t have appreciated a flip line,” she said, surprised that he remembered how important honesty was to her, when he’d forgotten all about truthfulness in his rush to leave all those years ago.

She and Dylan had a history she’d never been able to forget. They’d met at thirteen, when Dylan’s family had moved to town, started dating at sixteen, begun sleeping together at seventeen and by eighteen and their high-school graduation, Holly had been planning their happily ever after.

She’d go to Yale University and then to medical school like her father and his father before him, and though Dylan hadn’t chosen his college yet, he’d go close by, major in theater arts or drama, and they’d stick together as he tried for a career on Broadway. They’d have a house, kids and a happy life. That had been their plan, or so she’d thought until she woke up the day after graduation with a good-bye letter in her mailbox. A note on a flimsy sheet of paper, hastily written as if she’d meant nothing to him at all.

He’d been her first love, and he’d unceremoniously dumped her with the printed words
A high-school crush was never meant to last. It’s time we both move on. Dylan.
Not even
Love, Dylan.

Then he’d gone on to change his name from Dylan Northwood to Dylan North and quickly became America’s heartthrob, staring at her from the cover of every magazine in the supermarket and drugstore.

Now he stood before her. Holly exhaled slowly, trying not to let Dylan see that his return had her trembling.

He stared with the half smile, and the dimple America adored, on his face. “How about a hello hug for an old friend?” he asked with more than a hint of challenge in his voice.

Touching him would be like looking for an electric shock, but if she turned him down, he’d assume she still had feelings for him. Which she didn’t, she assured herself. None at all.

Liar
. “Yeah, I think I could manage a hug. For a friend,” she added, more for her benefit than his.

She stepped forward and was immediately surrounded by his heady masculine scent and engulfed by his strong arms and a wealth of emotion she’d tried hard to bury. Her cheek nestled into the nubby wool of his sweater, and his jean-clad thighs brushed against her light slacks.

Shaking, she stepped back before she embarrassed herself, the practiced smile she reserved for her most trying patients on her face. “So what brings you by?”

His steady gaze met hers. “I couldn’t come home without seeing my Midnight Angel… I mean, without seeing you again.”

She swallowed hard, his use of the endearment taking her off guard. Dylan’s father had walked out when he and his sister were young, only to return again for another try. When that second chance failed a few weeks before Christmas their junior year in high school, his mother had broken the star on their Christmas tree in frustration. Holly had bought the family an angel to put on top instead. New memories to replace the old, she’d explained when she’d given it to him at midnight on Christmas Eve.

He’d called her his Midnight Angel.

She’d believed they would last forever.

She shivered and forced herself back to the present. “Well, I’m glad you came by. It was good to see you again.” And it would be just as good to have him gone. “As you can see, I was just finishing up here. I’ve had a long day.”

She was sure she looked as exhausted as she felt, yet somehow she resisted the urge to fix her hair or excuse herself and run to her office to touchup her makeup. This was who she was. No sense hiding it. Though she considered herself attractive on a good day, today wasn’t one of those days.

The Hollywood hunk might have dated her once, but the gorgeous women he saw daily and at award shows and premieres made her look like roadkill in comparison. Especially in contrast with Melanie Masterson, the actress the magazines constantly paired him with.

He glanced at his watch. “Actually, I was hoping you had time for one more patient today.”

“You?” she asked, surprised. He didn’t look sick.

“Flu shot. I never managed to get one before I left L.A.” He shoved his hands into his back pockets and grinned at her like an adorable little boy who’d forgotten his lunch money and was begging for a loan.

The effect was potent, more than any other good-looking man had had on her ever. Guiltily, thoughts of John, her on-again, off-again boyfriend, arose. She and John had started dating when she’d returned home to take over her sick father’s practice a little over a year ago. But while John was ready to settle down and had begun pressuring her for more of a commitment, she wasn’t ready, and lately she’d been wondering if she ever would be.

She’d been putting him off with flimsy excuses, but
I need more time
and
Let’s get to know each other better
didn’t hold much weight when they’d known one another since grade school. John provided comfort and ease but not this overwhelming sexual desire she felt just looking at Dylan again.

“Hello?” Dylan waved a hand in front of her face. “I asked if you’d give me a flu shot?” He studied her with concern.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts and focus on keeping Dylan in the past where he belonged. Forcing a smile, she said, “Sure. I can manage one more shot.”

She gave him a quick exam, not wanting to spend too much time examining his broad, tanned, muscular chest or any other part of his body that created that longing feeling swirling inside her. After a quick escape to gather her equipment, she walked back into the exam room.

“So are you going to Whipporwill’s tonight?” he asked about the town’s annual Christmas party. He pushed up his sweater sleeve in preparation for his shot.

She shook her head. “I haven’t had any down-time lately. I thought I’d head home and relax.” In fact, she’d already called John and cancelled, claiming exhaustion. Her bed beckoned.

Once she’d slept, she would wake up refreshed and full of holiday spirit, ready to shop for the gifts she normally purchased way ahead of time. But since her father died, she’d been so busy keeping his practice alive that she’d had no time for anything that resembled fun.

“That’s too bad. I was hoping I could steal a dance.”

She shot him a disbelieving glance. A dance? Was that something like their hug? Did he really find being around her that easy, making conversation that simple, as if they’d never meant anything to each other beyond friends? Was the attraction that swirled inside her, even now, nonexistent for him when he looked at her? She clenched her jaw in pain and frustration.

“I thought we could hang out and catch up. You know, like old times. Come on, Holly. Please?”

She closed her eyes and counted to ten, seeing her relaxing night evaporate. If she didn’t show up at the party, Dylan would think she was avoiding him, or worse, running from her feelings.

“Fine,” she said with forced cheer. “I’d love to hang out with an old
friend
.” As long as he didn’t call her his Midnight Angel again.

And since he found it so easy to be her
friend
, she decided there was a nice, fleshier place than his arm for her to insert the needle for his shot. One where he wouldn’t forget her quite so easily this time.

“Oh, Dylan? I need you to do me a favor first.”

He grinned, obviously pleased she’d agreed. “What’s that?”

“Drop your pants.”

He groaned, and she laughed, her first free and easy laugh since he’d walked into her office unannounced.

TWO

W
hipporwill’s was the fanciest restaurant in Acton and often doubled as a catering hall for weddings and other assorted affairs. By L.A. standards, it fell short of chic, and by Boston standards it was a family-style restaurant at best. Still, it was the best Acton had to offer, and tradition dictated the whole town show up for an annual bash the week before Christmas.

Dylan leaned against a scarred, wood-paneled wall, smiling and greeting friends, both old and new. His mother, Kate, stood on the opposite side of the room, holding court, gesturing proudly to her famous son. He’d flown his mother to L.A. a few times a year and he’d come home to visit and left just as quietly. Having him here to show off was a first, and she reveled in the attention. Meanwhile, he was looking around for Holly, who was nowhere to be found.

Dylan had all but dared her to show up tonight. In his arrogance, he’d thought that just because he’d once been able to anticipate her actions, he could still do the same. But as the minutes passed, he was forced to admit he’d miscalculated. Badly enough for him to admit defeat.

Before he could come up with an excuse that his mother and everyone else would accept so that he could leave gracefully, a guy he recognized from high school walked over and joined him.

“Dylan, I heard you were in town. It’s good to see you.” The other man held out his hand.

Dylan grinned. “John Whittaker? Damn, it’s been a long time.” He pumped his old friend’s hand.

“Last time I saw you, we were cleaning toilet paper off the football field to keep Coach from calling the cops and reporting the school had been vandalized.”

Dylan laughed. “I remember.” It had been their high-school graduation farewell prank. Dylan had left for L.A. a few days later.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought of that night over the years. Every time I see your ugly mug on the cover of a magazine, in fact.” John shoved his hand into the back pocket of his chinos.

He still favored the preppy look, while Dylan had always liked jeans and T-shirts best. Unlike many of the guys Dylan had greeted tonight who sported bald spots or comb-overs, John still had a full head of sandy-brown hair.

“Tonight must feel like a high-school reunion for you,” John said, understanding in a way that surprised Dylan.

He grimaced. “Worse. I think you’re one of the first people who’s happy to see me for the right reasons.”
Friendship, not awe
, he thought.

“As soon as they all realize you’re still the same, the fame thing’ll pass.”

Dylan shrugged. “I hope you’re right. So what’ve you been up to?”

“I work at an investment firm in downtown Boston,” John said, propping one shoulder against the wall.

“That suits you. Married?”

“Not yet, but I’m trying to get the woman I’ve been seeing to settle down.”

“Anyone I know?” Dylan asked.

John studied Dylan in pointed silence. “Actually—” John’s cell phone rang, cutting him off. He glanced at the incoming number. “Hang on, and we’ll pick this up in a few minutes,” he said to Dylan. He answered the call, walking off to talk in private, leaving Dylan to watch the door some more and hope Holly would show up after all.

*     *     *

After heading home for a nap, a shower and some serious primping, Holly met up with Nicole on the steps outside Whipporwill’s. The chill in the air and impending snow signaled Christmas was coming soon. Holly loved the holiday season. She was suddenly glad she’d come tonight, and the festivities weren’t the only reason. Neither was the challenge Dylan had issued earlier. Dylan, himself, was the man motivating her actions.

“I still think you should have surprised John instead of calling him and telling him you’d decided to come tonight,” Nicole said, interrupting Holly’s thoughts. “Spontaneity is good for relationships, and from what you’ve told me, John could use some good old-fashioned surprises in his life.”

Holly couldn’t deny that comment. “I just thought he deserved to know I’d changed my mind.” She’d show up at the party, spend time with both the past and present men in her life and hopefully leave Whipporwill’s with a clear mind, ready to move on.

“I bet you were afraid he’d think you came just to see Dylan,” Nicole said knowingly.

With a groan, Holly pulled open the door and entered the festive party. Red and silver velvet bows adorned the walls, and tinsel fell enticingly from each potted plant and fern, while poinsettias were strategically placed around the room, their beauty enhancing the holiday atmosphere.

“Do you want to stick with me?” she asked Nicole, knowing her friend was still fairly new to town and didn’t know everyone yet.

Nicole shook her head. “Actually, I see someone I want to talk to,” she said and, with a brief wave, disappeared into the crowd.

So much for needing a guiding hand
, Holly thought wryly. She paused to hand her jacket to the coatcheck girl before heading inside.

No sooner had she glanced around than her first challenge came to greet her. “Holly, I’m so glad you changed your mind and decided to come,” John said, grasping her hand in his. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She took in his polished look, the pressed chinos and collared shirt paired with a polo sweater, and smiled. “You look pretty good yourself.” She kissed his clean-shaven cheek, his familiar aftershave surrounding her.

“Well, well, look who decided to show up after all.”