Lori stepped into the kitchen. "Well, Doc, is this a duet or can anyone join in?"
The impromptu concert stopped. Gray set aside his spoon, his expression unreadable.
Magda squealed and held out her arms. "Yori!"
Lori scooped Magda off the counter and hitched the little girl onto her hip. Magda snuggled closer with total ease and trust. A child's unconditional love certainly was a powerful thing. Lori rested her cheek on Magda's bandanna, Gray's bandanna, the mix of the two of them doing odd things to Lori's heart. She stared at Gray across the kitchen. "Thank you. I seem to be saying that to you a lot lately."
"You okay now?" He shuffled from foot to foot.
A flutter of unease stirred in her chest. She knew that caged look in his eyes, the rhythm of those restless feet, too well. "Can't handle the heat of a morning-after kitchen, huh, big guy?"
Gray's feet stilled. His gaze collided with hers, linking them as firmly as that single moment he'd slid into her body. He'd set her up with the perfect morning-after breakfast, and now he was bowing out instead of joining them. She forced herself not to look away.
He turned first, spooned oatmeal into two bowls, dropped slices of toast on the plates and transferred the butter from the counter to the table. "I wish I could stay longer, but I've got rounds at the hospital."
His excuse was valid. Why then couldn't she shake the disappointment because he wouldn't be spending the rest of the day with them? Or shake the sense that he didn't want to. "Sorry. Of course you have to go. We've exhausted our house-call quota."
"Yeah, well, duty calls." His feet picked up their itchy pace again.
Magda on her hip, Lori followed Gray into the living room where he hooked his gym bag over his shoulder and charged for the door. On her porch he paused. "I've been thinking."
So had she, thoughts of waking up in his arms, of feeling his hands on her, of his being inside her.
Of never having him there again.
Could she actually be considering giving them another chance? There was also Magda to consider. Lori could so easily see herself serving as a foster parent beyond the one-month evidentiary hearing.
Maybe if she and Gray talked this time, rather than just jumping into bed whenever they didn't agree, they might solve something. Or at least keep from getting hurt again no matter how it turned out. She was wiser now. She would walk in with her eyes wide open, unlike her fairy-tale ideas of a year ago. "Thinking about what?"
"Magda should spend some time with other kids."
What a wake-up call. She'd been selfishly dreaming of time with him, and he'd been nobly considering Magda. "I'm looking into play groups once she's better."
His feet shuffled their restless dance. "Can you get off early Friday?"
"Maybe." Caution made her ask, "Why?"
"There's a crew party after Friday's flight. Other kids, children of crew members, will be there."
He wanted her there with the other families? One look into his eyes told her how important this was to him, and her knees went weak. Surely only because she hadn't eaten anything other than crackers and toast in more than twenty-four hours.
"All right" The words fell free before she could stop them, but she didn't call them back.
"Great." His gaze ping-ponged around the porch, before settling on her again. "My mother and father can pick you and Magda up."
His parents? Casually Lori grabbed the railing because the house seemed to have tilted even farther to the left, leaving her decidedly off balance. "Your parents?"
"You won't have to deal with the hassle of getting on base."
"Gray, I'm confused—"
"Guess I didn't make it clear. We're all meeting on the flight line first, then heading over to Lance's for the party."
"Oh, okay." She hadn't really meant confused about the plans so much as just what he was trying to accomplish. Her stomach was a mess all over again, and it had nothing to do with the stomach flu.
Gray dropped a kiss on Magda's bandanna-covered head, then cupped Lori's face in a farewell caress. For a minute she thought he might kiss her, too, and she couldn't find the will to move closer or away.
Instead Gray broke the moment with a nod. "Thanks, Lori. Finit flights mean a lot to us flyers."