Randall turns toward me with a polite smile. “So, Dr. Mead—”

“Frannie, please,” I quickly correct him.

His smile widens. “Okay, Frannie it is, then. What I was about to ask is if you have any big weekend plans two weeks from now?”

I shake my head. “Not really.”

“Do you like art?”

“Yes. I appreciate art in a variety of forms.” My mind automatically drifts back to Tyke singing and how beautiful that was. He is truly an artist.

“Well, as you know, I’m the activities director, and from time to time I like to plan outings for the clients. There’s an art gallery in a city that’s not too far from here, and I was thinking it would be nice to get out. Would you be interested in being the second chaperone?”

The idea of leaving the property for a while is enticing. “I’d love that.”

“Great.” Randall drums his fingers on the top of the table in a fit of glee and then addresses the rest of the table. “Everyone? Can I have your attention?”

The small chitchat at the table stops and everyone focuses on Randall—everyone but Tyke, who’s staring directly at me. His eyes bore into me as he tilts his head toward the seat next to him. I give my shoulders a slight shrug and pull my lips into a tight line.

I know he wants more of an explanation than that. Hell, if I were him, I would, too. But what can I tell him? Thanks for the sex? Maybe now, since we’ve acted on our desire for one another, we can focus on being strictly professional? He doesn’t want to hear that. He probably won’t even care.

“In two Saturdays, we are going out as a group to the art gallery. For those of you who would like to go, please see me after dinner and express your interest,” Randall announces. “For those of you who do not wish to go, Dr. Shepherd and Timothy will be here on staff so that you may stay behind for independent reflection.”

The clients’ excitement is evident. They must like getting out of here from time to time, since most of them are here for at least a month or more.

For the rest of the meal, I feel the tension emanating from Tyke. Every time I look in his direction, his eyes are fixed on me. If he’s not careful, people are going to figure out something is going on between us and start prying, asking questions, and I’ll be forced to lie.

No one can ever know what we did.

When everyone is finished, Randall stands, and the clients immediately flock to him. Excited murmurs fill the room as everyone rushes to tell him they want to go.

I stand and head for the foyer, needing to prepare for the group session I’m about to lead. When I get to the room, the door closing behind me startles me. Quickly, I whip around and my heart thumps against my ribs.

Tyke stands a few mere feet from me, a perplexed expression on his face. “Do you want to tell me what the hell that was about back there?”

I shake my head and turn back toward the table, focusing on the handouts I prepared for the session earlier in the day. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Unsatisfied with that answer, he steps next to me and grabs my wrist, turning me, forcing me to look at him. “Yes, you do. What’s with the cold shoulder? I thought we had things figured out?”

I narrow my eyes and jerk my hand away from him. “Look, Tyke, I’m not interested in being your fuck-buddy while you’re stuck here. We had sex—one time. It’s not going to happen again.”

He shoves his fingers into his hair and sighs. “I don’t think of you that way.”

I want to believe that. To feel that I’m more to him than just some easy lay. After seeing how much emotion he put into that song he sang about me, it seems like I mean something to him.

“How do you think of me then?” I ask before I even realize I’ve said the question out loud.

He licks his lips and takes a determined step toward me, my hips fitting perfectly in his hands as he pulls me against his chest. “You’ve taken up every spare inch in my brain since I got here, Frannie.”

I take a deep breath. “Don’t tell me lies, even if they’re sweet. You don’t have to do that with me. If you just want sex—”

He tips my chin up with his index finger. “I don’t.”

“Don’t,” I repeat and then close my eyes unable to look at him. “Don’t say things you don’t mean. I know what this is. I’ve been in situations like this before.”

He tilts his head. “Why?”

I flinch back and do my best to evade it. “Why what?”

“Why do you think I’m just using you? Don’t you feel it?” he whispers, and the warmth of his breath floats across my lips. “The connection we have is insane. There’s no faking that. What’s happening between us is more than just sex, Frannie.”

While I’ve felt an array of emotions for Tyke Douglas, the invisible rope pulling us together is just too strong. “Tyke...”

“There’s no need to deny it. It’s written all over your face that you feel the same way.”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. Soon you’ll be gone, back on the road, and where will that leave me? If we get caught, I’ll be jobless. I’ll have nothing, and you’ll have moved on and all this will have been for nothing.” Tears threaten to spill from eyes as I explain our reality to him. “There will never be an us. Ever. It’s not worth the risk.”

“So that’s it? You’re done? Just like that? Can you really walk away from this—from the possibility of an ‘us’?”