Anna's Secret

I’m taking you for supper, so it might as well be something you love.”
Anna smoothed her hands over unruly curls and pulled at her oversized sweatshirt. She looked and felt like a day-old soda.
“I can’t go out! Look at me. I didn’t even shower after my run.”
“Go take a shower. I’m not in a rush.”
He walked back into her living room and plopped down on the couch. “Take your time.”
Matt stretched out on the sofa and closed his eyes. He had won the battle, and she was going to eat. But fear of a whole different kind spiraled inside his head.
Friendship was a dangerous game to play. He had rationalized that he would concentrate on only being a friend, but could he?
In the past, she’d often brought up the subject of God when randomly talking about the challenges both she and Steven faced and believed he would give the strength she needed. But the way she looked today—like a scared waif that the wind could pick up and carry away—worried him. There was little wonder why her sister had called.
Though he had often reminded himself that emotions were for the weak and illogical, all it took was a thought of her sparkling black eyes and full red lips to run through his mind, and he was lost. Before he could stop, his imagination took him to where her thick, dark curls were given freedom from the clasp at the nape of her neck and his lips were lowered to hers.
It did not help to remind himself of the years spent on his education specializing in the love of his life—medicine—nor reflect upon the reputation he’d built as both a medical and surgical oncologist. He could daily tell himself, Matt don’t be a fool. Medicine you understand. Medicine you live for. Medicine is where you excel. Then immediately slip back into daydreams of her far away from reason.
After watching his parent’s tortured relationship, he vowed never to repeat that kind of insanity. Love and companionship came at too heavy a price. To prove his point, all he had to do was look into the lives of his colleagues. Far too many had their careers sidelined due to irrational affairs and domestic problems. He had never wanted, nor needed, the complication of love. There was no such thing as fairytale romances or true love, was there?
But try as he might to thwart all lack of reason, Anna had him thinking differently with a craving for something undefined. She had crept into his thoughts uninvited, and since Steven was gone, they had reached epidemic proportion. The safe and proper wall of friendship had crumbled, and his mind sprouted doors and windows that beckoned him into a world of much more. He had stayed away from her this past month with disciplined purpose and rued the fact her sister had called him.
Determined to eradicate thoughts of her and him, thoughts of them as a couple, thoughts of her in his arms, he came today to prove to himself that he could control such madness, but instead, faced the one word he never entertained when dealing with women. Failure.
Logic usually worked like a charm, so he reminded himself that she had just lost her husband and was a grieving widow. And if that was not enough, then the fact that she had two grown children and a belief structure he could not fathom should seal the deal. It did not.
Why did he feel the need to protect Anna? Why did the mere thought of her destroy that one thing he had always been able to control—his emotions? Why the startling surge, thrum, and kick of his sorry heart every time she came into view?
Thoughts of a snooze flew out the window. Agitation pushed in. Matt felt all too human for his liking. The sound of water splashed into his troubled thoughts as the shower turned on, and he instantly longed to join her. A colorful word slipped from his lips, one he knew she wouldn’t approve of.
With a degree of willpower never before exercised, he squeezed his eyes shut and practiced deep breathing, with his mind focused on a difficult medical procedure he needed to perform the next day. Sleep thankfully followed.
Anna stayed extra-long in the shower. The steady heat of beaded water relaxed her shoulders. She smoothed her hands over the knot in the small of her back.
A rare flicker of something akin to excitement fluttered within as she contemplated a meal out with Matt. When was the last time she dined out? She’d had invitations, but she had rarely ventured far with Steven’s illness.
She smiled ever so briefly into the mirror as she tried to calm the unruly curls that cascaded around her face and down her back. Unable to tame the riotous mane, she gave up on the blow-drying and fastened the still-damp hair with a decorative clasp. A few errant tendrils worked free. She sighed, deeply annoyed that they had a life of their own.
After putting on the scantest amount of makeup, she took one last glance into the bathroom mirror. The large dark circles that shadowed her eyes were far from attractive. She patted a light powder then shook her head. There was no makeup that could hide her life’s recipe of late: hold the sleep, a sprinkle of nutrition, add a generous dollop of stress.
With a deep shrug, she headed down the hall.
“Matt?”
A gentle nudge of his shoulder and the whisper of her voice brought a sleepy smile to his face. What was he thinking?
He opened his eyes lazily, and an unguarded gaze of admiration swept over her before he successfully masked his expression.
A tender sensation tickled her senses and sent a warm flush to her cheeks.
“Man, I really crashed.” He raked a hand through his hair and rose to his feet.
“That’s my fault. You said to take my time, and that’s exactly what I did. It’s been over an hour.”
“Well then, with that kind