Wow.Vincent hadn’t ever had to think about any of this before. But she was right. What little he knew about cancer would fill about half a paragraph.
He was lucky, and he knew it. He came from a family that wasn’t genetically prone to cancer. None of his close relatives had ever had to deal with it, so this was all a brand spanking new learning curve for him. He was determined to ace it.
“Okay. Got it,” he affirmed. “Any questions I have, ask. Any help I might be able to give, offer. If you take exception to anything I say? You’ll let me know.”
She grinned up at him. “Nice. You’re a fast learner.”
Vincent sucked in a deep breath before he asked the next question he’d been dying to pose.
Here’s where the rubber hit the road.
“So, Lace, what kind of cancer doyouhave?”
Instead of recoiling, she snickered. “Ooh, going for the big guns right away,” she teased, “The emphasis being on big guns.” She then sobered to look him right in the eye. “I have breast cancer, Vincent. Stage three. My left boob will soon be history.”
“And the right?”
Vince couldn’t help but look down at the front of her sweatshirt; more out of reflex than being a perv.
“Undecided as of yet,” she told him with a forthrightness he was coming to expect from her. “I’m currently weighing the pros and cons.”
She began walking again, this time with a little more spring in her step, as if getting that information out to him and…off her chest… (Could he make that joke, even in his head?) …had lightened her load.
“I’d like to hear about those pluses and minuses,” Vincent told her sincerely.
“Another day,” she answered chipperly. “Ifyou decide to come back,” she added.
“Oh, I’m coming back,” he assured her. “Count on it.”
Lace stopped again just as they were about to enter the pediatric unit.
“Can I ask why?”
Clearly, that had been on her mind.
Vincent let out a gust of air. “Like I said before, I’m…not sure. If we’re not mincing words here, I’ll say there’s something about you that draws me in.”
He could swear that a tinge of color suffused her pale cheeks.
Vince continued. “If I’d met you in a bar, I would have asked you out. If I’d met you at the docks, in full storm gear, I would have offered my help with whatever task you were performing. If my mother had introduced us… No. Scratch that. If she’d introduced us, she’d have us married by now.”
Lace sucked in a shocked breath, and Vincent liked it as he went on.
“Since this is where I ran into you, however? The best I can do is be supportive.”
“That’s all good to hear,” she choked out.
Lace straightened her spine. It was clearly her turn to be bold. “Vincent, are we talking supportive here, or…interested?”
There she was again, taking the direct approach, which suited Vince just fine.
“Interested,” he admitted on a relieved exhale. “Definitely interested.”
She smiled then, the first uninhibited, toothy one she’d given him, and his pulse stuttered. Her entire face was transformed.
Lace had been ethereal and slightly mythical-looking before, which had been uniquely attractive. But now? The woman was stunning.
She shook her head as if she couldn’t quite believe he was for real. “I hope you know what you’re getting into,” she warned.