It had been five years since Erik had been back to Rosemary Inn - six since he'd been up on this ridge with his parents, Seamus and Moira. He'd been on break from his residency at UNM then, and had flown to LA to be with them here as they renewed their vows. Olivia had been unable to come as she was in the middle of her surgical residency in New York and didn't want to lose her chance at being hired there.

Three days after Erik stood on that very ridge with his parents, the Morins and Serena, a drunk driver hit their car head-on as they were making their way back to the South Bay. Moira two days later, and Seamus followed eight days afterwards. The driver suffered only a broken foot.

Erik was back in New Mexico by then, and when he heard the news from Serena, he flew back immediately. Serena had known first only because her friends were completing their residency at the Ventura county hospital and recognized the Maystroms when they were brought into the emergency room.

It was what cemented their relationship the way Serena saw it now, Erik said - that bond people often share over a loss. He would always need her, she believed, whether he realized it or not.

Olivia arrived the following day, he said. "It was ironic. Both of us doctors, able to save lives, and yet when it mattered the most - we were helpless. All we could do was stand there and watch them fade away."

"I'm so sorry, Erik," I said, and I couldn't remember how many times I'd already said since we were up on the ridge. We were back at the inn now, sitting on one of the benches facing the main building. Erik was lying on the bench, his head cradled on my lap.

"Dad must have known that mom didn't make it," he said. "He never regained consciousness. He was in a coma till they turned off the respirator. We weren't even aware that they both had an advance directive - DNR. Do not resuscitate. But even if we did know, it wouldn't have mattered."

The driver was some rich Santa Barbara kid, he said, barely eighteen with a brand new car - a Mustang. There was a case, but Erik didn't want to talk about it. It didn't bring his parents back anyway so he didn't see the point. By then, his grandparents - his mother's parents - flew in from Killarney and stayed for a year, helping Erik cope with the sudden loss. Olivia returned to New York to finish her residency but the fire had gone out then. She met Sebastian at a party and found solace in his arms, marrying him less than three months later.

"They helped me settle my parents' estate - which ended up being quite big. We had no idea how big," Erik said. "They sold two apartment buildings and with that money, helped me buy the house on the Strand. Gran figured that after years in New Mexico, I'd appreciate seeing the ocean, but all I did was work anyway. That was how I got through the day or I'd have gone crazy. I thought I had learned how to deal with loss with Chelsea, holding her till she took her last breath. But nothing prepares you for the loss of a parent, Sam. Or in this case, both my parents. Nothing at all. Not even a house on the Strand." He sighed. "I wasn't exactly great company then.

"And Josh? Did he leave these flowers?"

He nodded. "He did. I remembering him saying he leaves flowers here once a month or so, but I never really believed him. He loved my parents like they were his aunt and uncle, just like Helen and Craig are both aunt and uncle to me," he said. A smile graced his lips then. "Josh helped me get past the tough times. At least he was local, which was good. He and I jogged. We went out and drank, that sort of thing. He'd take me along on those deep sea fishing trips off the coast of Mexico for sea bass and yellowtail just to get my mind off things, and to get me out of my grandparents' hair."

"My grandparents are sensible folk. Loving, but sensible. But when they came here to help me cope, they always treated like I was their baby, never grown up, and so unlike Olivia, whom they thought was more mature. They probably still do," he chuckled. "Serena actually stopped pestering me to join her in surgery because gran told her off. Told her to mind her own business and leave me alone."

"Were you together at that time?"

He laughed. "In a way, we were, though she stayed away from grandma's sights. She was going after what she wanted - cosmetic surgery - so she didn't have time for anything serious, and neither did I. I couldn't really commit so soon after losing my parents. But I think she really found her niche in what she's doing now."

"So did you," I said.

He nodded. "I did. I like what I do, Sam, even if it's not glamorous or allows me to make the high six figures annually. Any woman who wants to put up with me has to accept that I like treating the poor, even drug addicts, whether it's heroin or prescription pills. We don't require insurance. It's cash only and we get help from companies who support our programs. It gets complicated sometimes, since we just became a non-profit, but that's where Olivia comes in. She handles all the business end of it, although I oversee it."

"Yet Serena is still part of your board of directors."

"When I opened the clinic, she put in about $25,000 while Olivia and I put in $60,000 each - that's with the help of our parents' estate, of course. Olivia was always a partner even though she was in Italy with Sebastian. Besides the building, we had to bring in the employees to get the clinic up and running, everyone from physicians, nurses, acupuncturists, even massage therapists." Erik was playing with my fingers as he spoke, weaving his fingers between mine. "I've long since paid Serena back but she won't allow herself to be removed from the board. She's invested in it, she says."

"She's invested in you." I was stroking his hair absently as I spoke. "I hate confrontations and I didn't really know what to say to her this morning. I'm sorry I left. I just didn't want to be around when she got to your bedroom."

He sighed. "I'm sorry about what happened this morning, Sam, but there's something about Serena that not a lot of people know and we're still working on it."

"Working on it?" I asked, my voice sharp. "Like together - you and her - working together? On what?"

"I can't tell you just yet. But we broke up for good eight months ago - and I mean, for good." This time, Erik sat up, the tension in his body evident in the way the muscles of his arms rippled. "But I promise you, there is nothing going on between Serena and I."

"She so not over you, Erik," I said, sighing. "And I'm not looking forward to having to fight over you every time I see her."

Erik peered at me, his eyes narrowing. It was a playful look, teasing. "You really won't fight for me?"

"Have you brought her here?" I asked suddenly, looking around me at the native plants that graced the borders of the paths. I was jealous, of course, and I hated the feeling.

"Just once, when mom and dad were still alive. But she prefers the spa across town which has nicer amenities than Rosemary Inn, complete with the yoga and the Pilates. She's big on Pilates," he smiled ruefully. "She also can't stand Josh, and he can't stand her. But you just changed the subject, Sam. You really wouldn't fight for me?"

His phone rang just then, sparing me a full answer although my response would have been a resounding yes. I would fight for Erik if I had to.

It was Helen calling to let him know about the availability of the two massage therapists he had requested. He listened for a few moments, before turning to look at me.

"I never got to ask you, but would you like a massage?" Erik asked .

"I don't know. I've never had one before," I said.

"Then it's time you finally got one," he said and brought the phone to his ear. "Aunt Helen, 6:30 would be perfect. Is it okay if we just have dinner sent to the room afterwards? Great!"

He thanked Helen, hung up the phone and stood up. "Massage in half an hour," he said, spanking me playfully on my behind. "Guess it's time to hit the showers, my little massage virgin."

Erik chased me back to the suite to the amusement of two couples who were walking back from the stables. It felt silly, acting like little children, but for the first time in a long time, I was happy - really happy. And for that moment, despite hearing about the painful memories that Rosemary Inn held for Erik, happiness even during the briefest of moments was all that mattered.

Every little bit counted.

With the massage therapists scheduled to set up in the suite in half an hour, Erik and I shared a quick shower together to wash away all the sweat, pollen and dust that had clung to our hair and skin. By the time we emerged from the bathroom in our matching robes, the massage therapists were knocking on the door.

The memory that followed after they both entered the room wheeling in their massage tables was pretty hazy after that. I vaguely remembered the women asking us if there were any sore areas we wanted them to work on, but I was too nervous to point out anything.

But Erik was an old pro. He told his therapist to work on the area between his shoulder blades and his lower back, and maybe if she had time, to spend time on his neck.

"By the way, it's Sam's first massage, so don't hold anything back," he told the woman standing by my table. "Make it feel better than chocolate - well, without the chocolate."

"Erik!" I protested as the women both giggled. Erik had turned on the charm full blast and they were not immune. But I had something better. "Well, if she can make it better than chocolate, why not make it better than sex?"

"Now that's low, Sam," Erik protested, propping himself up on one elbow as he eyed me. "Nothing, no offense, ladies, can be better than s-"

"Okay, okay, you two," one of the women chuckled, guiding me back down on the table. "Behave and you'll both get what you want from the massage - but without the chocolate or the sex."

The session that followed went by too fast, even though Erik booked us both for ninety-minute sessions. But for my first massage, it was pure bliss, most of which I remembered nothing of for I fell asleep halfway through it. The last thing I remembered was the woman - whose name I could not even remember - was rubbing my sore feet, working on points that were sensitive but felt good whenever she applied pressure to them. It made me think of a cat purring, though I'd never had a cat. Beyond that last thought about cats, I may as well have been unconscious.

When I finally awoke, Erik was calling my name and for a few moments, I stared at the cream colored ceiling and wondered where I was. When I finally remembered, I sat up, hopped off the massage table, and slipped on my robe, embarrassed to have fallen fast asleep in the middle of the massage.

I sat on the couch with my legs folded under me, with a glass of water in my hand as the women folded their massage tables, thanked us and left the room. I couldn't even remember giving my therapist a tip, but Erik took care of it and told me it was his treat - the whole trip was, for that matter. There was another knock on the door, and a man in a hotel uniform wheeled in our dinner.

"I think I passed out," I mumbled, my voice heavy with sleep. "Does that happen every time you get a massage?"

"Only when I'm tired," Erik said, tipping the waiter and shutting the door.

"Did you fall asleep, too?" I was also as good as clueless almost, like the scarecrow who needed to go to Oz to ask for a brain.

"A little bit," Erik said, removing the stainless steel domed lids covering each entree. "But I was hungry so that helped keep me awake. Besides, you were so conked out, Sam, you snored. I couldn't sleep through that."

"What?!" I sat up, horrified and almost spilling my water. "Oh my god, Erik, I am so embarrassed!"

"Don't be. It was adorable," Erik grinned as I threw a pillow at him. "Hey! I was only joking! Don't give me the evil eye, Sam. Come and eat. I'm starving."

I eyed him suspiciously, wondering if he was telling me the truth. It was the only second time he had mentioned me snoring, I thought. But as the aroma of food wafted towards my direction, I forgot all about the possibility of my snoring being too loud, and realized that I was hungry.

During most of the meal, we talked about the Rosemary Inn and the prospect of maybe sitting in the jacuzzi afterwards, though Erik said he was honestly ready for bed. Three 12-hour shifts at the clinic had exhausted him and he'd been looking forward to sleeping in for most of the weekend.

"I'm not complaining, mind you," he said, grinning. "I like this pace. But I'm afraid I won't be much of a party animal tonight."

"Not that there any parties going on at the moment," I said. "It's really quiet here, isn't it?"

He nodded. "Mom and dad loved coming here after Aunt Helen and Uncle Craig retired here. We used to live in the hill area of Manhattan Beach and while it was nice and quiet, it still can't compare to this place. Dad loved to hear the animals outside the window."

"What animals?" I asked. All I could hear were the sounds of crickets outside the window.

"Coyotes, owls," Erik replied. "He used to do these bird calls and it was hilarious." Suddenly Erik started to do a bird sound himself and I stared at him in disbelief before giggling.

"It sounds like this robin that sits right outside Michael's bedroom window," I said. "That's amazing."

"It is a robin," Erik laughed. "Anyway, Dad would sit outside on the patio of one of the casitas here and have these running conversations with this one robin, it was hilarious."

"Well, you're quite good at it, too," I said just as Erik. "You can have a running conversation with the one by my house next time you're there."

Erik entertained me with a few more sound effects that had both of us laughing, though he was quite proud of each one. A pedestrian light switch, a Harley-Davidson, and another bird I had no idea what.

After dinner, we snuggled on the couch before the television though we were both yawning for most of the next hour till Erik took my hand and led me to the bedroom. There was a familiarity with our actions that scared me and as I hesitated, Erik released my hand.

"Does this make you uncomfortable?" He asked as we stood by the bed.

I shrugged. "Not really. I mean, don't you think we're moving about this too fast?"

He chuckled. "Too fast would mean I'd have made my move on you weeks ago, Sam. Months ago, even. I'd have skipped on the notes. But if this is too fast for you, I'm okay with slowing down."

"That's not what I meant-"

"You take the bed and I'll sleep on the couch," he said, gathering two pillows from his side of the bed.

"You are doing no such thing, Erik Maystrom," I said, grabbing his hand and pulling him back into the bedroom. "I just don't want you to think I expect you to do certain things because of my-"

His brow furrowed as I let go of his hand. "Your what?"

"My history," I began to stammer. "My past." I didn't want him to think I was that easy, I thought. Wasn't that what David would have said? I thought.

"What's your past got to do with this? Everyone's got a past, Sam. And as much as I'd love to learn about your past, you and I can't live in it forever. I like you very much with or without your baggage, and I wish you'd accept that," Erik said, stifling a yawn. "Look, I'm tired and I'm going to get ready for bed. Is that okay? I understand if what happened last night may have felt too fast for you, and I promise I won't touch you tonight."

"That's not it," I said. "I'm sorry. I'm just new to all this...courtship, as you call it."

"We'll take things as they come. How's that sound?" Erik said. He kissed me on the forehead before taking a step back. "So, where would you like me to sleep?"

"On the bed, of course," I said. "I won't hear of you sleeping on the couch. Period."

"Good," Erik smiled. "I don't think I'd have fit in it anyway."

That night, Erik did exactly as he said - he didn't touch me. But by four in the morning, awakened by the howling of a coyote in the distance, I sat up, my exhaustion replaced by something else from deep within my belly. I wanted him.

Erik was lying on his back fast asleep as I began to touch him. And as I moved my hand from his bare chest down to his belly, he opened his eyes and watched me, not saying anything. I felt his breathing grow ragged as my hand moved lower still, his body responding to my touch. I kissed his shoulder first, light kisses followed by a flick of my tongue against his skin, then his chest, and his neck, sucking softly. When my lips found his mouth, my hand found him beneath the covers, hard and hot against my palm.

"I told you I wasn't going to touch you tonight, Sam," he murmured, a sleepy smile gracing his lips.

I grinned as I pulled down the covers to reveal him in the light of the moon outside the window. "I never did make that same promise now, did I?"

He seemed to mull it over, biting his lip. "No, I don't recall you doing so."

"Then lie back, Doctor," I said, trailing my tongue down his chest and belly and lower still. "This time, I'm going to show you something proven to be even better than chocolate."

"I wonder what that is," he drawled, his voice growing deeper as I went even lower towards his hips, my mouth encircling him, my tongue licking him as I listened to him gasp, and felt his body tightening beneath me. His fingers gripped the covers along his side before moving my hair to one side so he could watch me.

"It's my very own prescription," I whispered before I took him in my mouth again.

"Then you better keep the prescription exclusive only to me, Sam," he murmured. "You never know when I might suffer a relapse."

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

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Finding Sam is available to buy as an ebook and paperback everywhere and all proceeds go to the Ovarian Cancer Research Fund.