“And Uncle Alex. But I was thinking…what if I marry someone who would help me to take care of you, and love you in a mom-type way? Would you like that?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What about Shelby? You like her, right?”

Holly considered that. “Did you fall in love with her?”

“I care about her. A lot.”

“You’re not supposed to marry someone if you don’t fall in love with her.”

“Well, love is a choice, too.”

Holly shook her head. “I think it’s something that happens to you.”

Mark smiled into her small, earnest face. “Maybe it’s both,” he said, and tucked her in.

The following weekend, Mark went to Seattle to visit Shelby. Her cousin’s engagement party would be held on Friday night at the Seattle Yacht Club on Portage Bay. It was yet another step in the progression of their relationship: attending a family event, meeting Shelby’s parents for the first time. He expected to get along well with them. From her descriptions, they seemed like decent, normal people.

“You will love them, I promise,” Shelby had told him. “And they will love you.”

The word “love” made Mark tense. So far, he and Shelby had not gotten to the point when either of them had said “I love you,” but Mark sensed that she wanted to. And it made him feel as guilty as hell, because he wasn’t looking forward to it. Of course he would say it back. And he would mean it, but probably not in the way that she wanted him to mean it.

A few months ago, Mark would have assumed that love was an ability he lacked. But Holly had disproved that entirely. Because the feeling of wanting to protect Holly, to give her everything, this soul-deep urge to make her happy…it was unquestionably love. Nothing Mark had ever felt before came close.

On Friday afternoon Mark took a flight to Seattle, worried as hell because Holly had come home from school with a slight fever. Ninety-nine point nine. “I should cancel,” he had told Sam.

“You’re kidding, right? Shelby would kill you. I got it covered. Holly will be fine.”

“Don’t let her stay up late,” Mark had said sternly. “Don’t let her eat crap. Don’t miss her next dose of ibuprofen, or—”

“Yeah, I know. Everything’s fine.”

“If Holly’s still sick tomorrow, the pediatrician’s office is open until noon on Saturdays—”

“I know. I know all the stuff you know. If you don’t leave now, you’re gonna miss your flight.”

Mark had left reluctantly after dosing Holly with ibuprofen. He had left her resting on the sofa, watching a movie. She looked small and fragile, her cheeks colorless. It bothered him to leave her, even though Sam had assured him everything would be all right. “I’ll have my cell phone with me,” he had told her. “If you want to talk to me, if you need me, you call whenever you want. Okay, sweetheart?”

“Okay.” And Holly had given him the toothy little grin that never failed to melt his heart. Leaning over her, he kissed her forehead, and they rubbed noses.

It felt wrong to walk out of the house and go to the airport. Every instinct prompted him to stay. But Mark knew how much the weekend meant to Shelby, and he had no desire to hurt or embarrass her by not showing up to a family event.

In Seattle, Shelby picked him up at the airport in her sleek BMW Z4. She wore a sexy black dress and high-heeled pumps, her blond hair styled loose and straight. A beautiful, classy woman.Any guy would be lucky to have her,he thought. He liked Shelby. He admired her. He enjoyed her company. But the lack of turbulence and intensity between them, which had always seemed so right before, had begun to seem vaguely wrong.

“We’re meeting Bill and Allison for dinner before the party,” Shelby said. Allison had been her best friend since college, and was now the mother of three children.

“Great.” Mark hoped he would be able to get his mind off Holly long enough to enjoy dinner. Pulling out his phone, he checked to see if there were any messages from Sam.

Nothing.

Noticing his frown, Shelby asked, “How’s Holly? Still under the weather?”

Mark nodded. “She’s never been sick before. At least, not since she’s been with me. She had a fever when I left.”

“She’ll be fine,” came Shelby’s soothing reply. A smile curved her lightly glossed lips. “I think you’re sweet to be so concerned about her.”

They went to a casually sophisticated restaurant in downtown Seattle, the main room dominated by a twenty-foot central tower of wine bottles. They ordered an excellent pinot noir for the table, and Mark drained his glass quickly, hoping it would help him to relax.