by Rissa Brahm
“Anyway, I’m sorry again about skipping out on you…I’ll blame it on a bad past few days, but hell, my whole life is ‘a bad past few days’ times a thousand…million.” She scoffed then shook her head, eyes sighing from the reality hit.
He smiled at her with something like empathy in his gaze. Then he cleared his throat. “Listen, I’m staying with my sister, and she’s made dinner. I don’t know if you get much home cooking…but her mac and cheese is out of this world.” He punctuated his sweet offer by literally licking his lips.
She almost laughed out loud, but held back, defaulting to a one-sided grin that silently shouted I want to but shouldn’t.
“Come on, join us.” His hand left his pocket and touched her elbow—a gentle nudge—which she pretended not to notice.
But she noticed. And her heart muscle noticed.
“You can strengthen up, overcome your bad-days streak with some of Stacy’s motherly-love-infused cooking—my sister’s kind of…well, you’ll see, if you accept the invite?” A smile slid over his face, brightening his eyes.
God, those eyes—she looked away like a shot.
“Doctor’s orders?” he added sweetly, almost innocently.
She didn’t know. Out of the blue, this altruistic and life-saving doctor, out-of-this-world lover, mourning widower. God, she didn’t even deserve to be in his company, let alone become his dinner guest.
But real food? Real people? His real sister? No agenda? It seemed innocent enough. Maybe just a person being kind. It could be the most real interaction with people other than Gigi and her sister that she’d had in who knew how long. If not ever.
But… “Thank you. I’ll pass, though. I have dinner plans with the other whore FAs.” She winked. “Another time, maybe?” she said, and started to walk away from him toward the cab line.
“Wait.” There he was again. With his deep honey eyes, their slight sorrow hidden by a glaze of confident control.
He slipped a business card into her hand. “Just take this. I have an international cell plan, so call anytime. Really, anytime at all.”
Even though she already had his number on a napkin crumpled up deep in her purse because something stopped her from trashing it, she took the card from him with a nod of thanks. Then his eyes shifted to a woman waving at him across the crowd of handlers, drivers, and scrambling tourists. The excited woman had eyes of melting honey too, with a warm smile to match. She was most definitely the sister who had home-cooked food ready for him.
*
Hugging his sister, he felt home. This visit was a long-overdue and much-needed respite. A breath of fresh air after the third medical review trial, and the year of third-world travel. Family was the best medicine now. At least for the next three days.
While he put his passport in a secure zipper pocket in his messenger bag, Stacy caught him up about the kids. Then she started quizzing him on his upcoming medical expedition—when a hand touched his forearm.
“I changed my mind, if that’s okay?” Preeya’s voice was somewhat meek, at least in contrast to her brash, outspoken tone he’d come to know over the past day and a half. Her long-lashed violet-infused eyes smiled at him. And he felt a twinge of the similar resurgent hope he’d felt the entire night before, when they were together.
“Yes. Good. Perfect. Um, Stacy, this is Preeya. Preeya Patel, the flight attendant who assisted me with the boy in-flight yesterday.”
CHAPTER 16
His sister had just moved to a rented tri-level overlooking the Bay of Banderas. The view was mesmerizing. He could tell Preeya agreed—her eyes lit up, her hands grasped the balcony rail with excitement mixed with caution, and her chest lifted with the intake of fresh sea air. For him, his peripheral view was more captivating than the tropical expanse in front of them. Yes, Preeya hopelessly captivated him.
His niece, Beth, and nephew, Peter, came running out to greet him. They were both a head taller since he’d seen them last, and each had sharp and spry looks in their eyes, too. And as always, they were all about their Uncle Ben.
Until they met Preeya.
The kids had always loved hearing Ben’s medical tales, even before he’d visited far-off places this past year…but this time their dinner guest and her flights of fancy and crazy high-in-the-sky stories trumped all. Ben no longer existed. He loved it, though, her role as storyteller and entertainer to the nine and eleven-year-olds. It fit Preeya too well for words—her connection with the kids. With Stacy, too. He couldn’t remember his sister laughing like that. A gift with people, a cool head in chaos, and such intelligence in general, what a waste, Preeya quitting medical school, not specialized in something pediatric. But it wasn’t any of his business. At least not yet.
Stop fantasizing, Ben. Stop thinking at all.
He shut off his brain and listened, then joined in the laughter erupting over the world’s greatest mac and cheese.
*
After dinner, the kids dragged Preeya off to show her their rooms while Ben snuck to the kitchen sink to start the cleanup before Stacy the Martyr finished the entire job herself.
“Benjamin Trainer,” Stacy whispered in his ear from behind, “I haven’t seen that look in your eyes since…” She paused and cleared her throat, catching herself—tiptoeing.
He sighed, just realizing that Stacy hadn’t uttered Jamie’s name since the funeral.
Maybe he’d given off a certain vibe—and maybe it was time to stop. “Since Jamie?” he asked, giving her permission to broach the delicate subject while he stared at the sudsy sponge in his hands.
A nervous laugh tumbled from her mouth as she began packing the leftovers. “Yes, since Jamie, Ben. And maybe with a new person in your life, you’d stop going on these dangerous expeditions.” She squeezed his shoulder on the way to the fridge with the containers. “I worry, Ben. I want you happy and…not…dead!”
“Stacy, please.” He put the sponge down to give her his full attention. “First off, they won’t give me the dangerous missions yet.” Though he’d kept on the coordinator as his year mark approached for more impactful projects. “So you need to keep the whole mothering-your-adult-kid-brother at bay.” His brows lifted to drive home his point.
He didn’t blame her for falling into the default role—she’d been his rock and only constant since their parents passed when he was only a toddler, being shuffled between relatives thereafter. And now, a single mother to Beth and Peter—yeah, he understood her pattern. Still, he’d outgrown it by about two decades of action-packed life.
“And, my dear sister and best friend, you’re reading into things here.” He flicked his eyes toward the kitchen door, to wherever Preeya had been smuggled off to by the kids. He needed to keep an even head about Preeya, and didn’t want Stacy’s excitement to tip him over the edge, because, God, after last night, then today—and now—he was too close to there all on his own.
“My ass am I reading into things,” she shot back. If nothing else, his sister was fiery. And he both hated and loved that about her. “No, no, brother, it’s not just your gazes at her. Oh no. That beauty you brought home, sharp as a tack I might add, is not keeping her eyes off of you, either—”
The kitchen door swung open. Preeya entered first, the kids in tow behind her.
“So, I got to see some awesome shell collections and surfing awards.” Preeya winked at the kids. “But now I’m ready to work. How can I help here?” That’s when Beth and Peter magically disappeared from the kitchen.
Stacy shook her head and sighed. “I should give those two some direction. If not toward this mess, then toward bed,” she said, waggling her brows. Stacy flashed a grin then exited as quickly as the kids had.
Preeya was at Ben’s side the next second, her hand on his arm, motioning with a head nod to let her help. Electricity and dishwater—not the safest…but Jesus, her heat.
His throat went dry, mind went blank.
Get it together, Ben.
He cleared his throat then smile
d at her as he hunted for his voice—words, composure. “You don’t have to help with dishes. You’re the guest—and you were literally on your feet serving hundreds of crabby people all day. Please…sit and relax.”
“No, I really want to be here with you…to help.” Her near-bashful smile dimpled her blushing cheeks.
He nodded, chest tingling—here with him? Really? He moved to the center island to pick up where Stacy’d left off, packing the rest of the mac and cheese. But again he had no reply. Like a damn teenager—though not the teenager he’d been. He’d always said what he’d wanted, and then taken it. With Jamie, with everything. What the hell had happened to that Ben?
“The kids and your sister are wonderful. What a sweet family. I never had anything like this.”
He sighed and grinned, relaxing into her sweet words and voice. “My sister practically raised me.” He got back to packing the last of the baked dish. “I broke her in for those kids. So their successes are really mine,” he said through a snicker. Then he paused. “You know, you’re really terrific with them.”
“Oh, thanks. I, uh, have a younger sister myself,” she said over her shoulder. “Prana. She’s got Down’s syndrome and its…ancillary issues. Anyway,” she said, turning back to the dish in her hand, “I’ve had years of practice communicating with a brilliant yet childlike mind. Patience is Prana’s biggest lesson and best gift to me…oh, and true love.”
His breath left him like a sudden vacuum. Knowing this other side to her, it made his heart flip. She was an enigma. Okay, but stop staring and speak. “I’m sure. Of course.” He licked his dry, cracked lips, weird for how humid it was in Vallarta and in that kitchen. “You know, many of my patients during residency had debilitating and diminishing diseases. It must be so hard for you and your family. Over the years, with little to no progress, it wears on you, yes?”
She nodded but kept silent. It wasn’t quite an uncomfortable silence, but he sensed her pain. No, he felt it. It paused him. The last words he’d spoken—years, no progress, wearing—replayed in his head. They were equally applicable to what he’d endured with Jamie. And God, it had been his worst nightmare come true.
He looked up from the container he was filling, Preeya’s attention focused hard on him.
She had turned from the sink, hands white with suds. “You have a gift. With how you truly empathize with people…like, with me…just now. You lost your wife, yet you feel for me? While my sister is alive?” She took a step closer to the kitchen island and placed her wet, soapy hand over his. “Ben, I’m so sorry for your loss. It must have been horrible. It must still be horrible. For you. Yet you’re so strong, and so giving.”
He shook his head, closed his eyes, and moved his hand to his chest, to feel the wedding band he wore around his neck. That he’d taken off last night. In Boise, with Preeya. A new surge of guilt shot through him, made him dizzy, while Preeya’s words whirled around his head. Then they hit his heart.
And something changed.
Preeya’s words, her soft and gentle, humble and sweet sentiment, settled in like a child’s head sinking into a pillow at bedtime. Her words weren’t rejected like some foreign organ implant, the donor being too unrelated or false. His donor now, Preeya—Preeya and her genuine words—had been accepted by his ever-combative heart. This time his body rejected the guilt, the shame.
His heart pounded with relief and heat and promise.
He felt flushed. How had this stranger penetrated him like this? Plenty of others had tried to broach the subject, but had all failed. Miserably. They’d just managed to increase the pain. And even though he knew his heartache was not unique, it of course felt singular to him. Somehow Preeya Patel had just made him feel…okay about that. Not even his loyal-to-the-end sister ever managed such a feat since Jamie passed.
Words didn’t seem an appropriate response back to Preeya: her genuine tenderness, this landmark, deserved more. So much more. He swallowed back a knot of emotion in his throat, while refusing to remove his eyes from hers. God, he wanted to take the two steps toward her, take her in his arms. Be taken in hers.
But the kitchen door swung open—Beth needing her new friend as badly as he did, it seemed.
“Preeya, Preeya! Come see,” his niece said, bouncing up and down. “Peter’s got an iguana to show you!”
She nodded at Beth, smiled with a slow, sweet blink at Ben as she lifted her soft, soapy hand from his. “I’ll be right back?”
He gave her a nod, then Preeya followed Beth out just as Stacy came in, brushing by Preeya and giving their guest a warm smile. Had Stacy been standing outside the door? He wouldn’t put it past her.
But he couldn’t care less. He felt dizzy and light yet anchored at the same time.
“Oh, God, Stacy…” He shook his head, searching for words.
“Do you believe me now? She’s into you, and it’s good. It’s really good.” She smiled, then turned away from him, taking over dish duty.
He hoped to God his sister was right. That Preeya was “into” him. Into him—God, he felt old. He snorted then sighed. Wait. What if his sister was off, just seeing what she wanted to see? What if he was just a charity case in Preeya’s eyes?
No, Ben. From the way she touched his hand, no. It was real. It was too real. But…
“I just don’t know. I’m so far out of the game, Stace. I can’t see home plate. I’m not even in the nosebleeds. I’m like, across the damn street. Hunting for a parking spot in the ninth inning.”
“Not according to her—I promise you that. Not according to her, little brother.”
She kept silent for a while, attacking the dishes full force while her words resonated in his head.
“I want to take her to the beach, to the Marietas, maybe. Tomorrow.”
His sister paused, turned, and smiled at him. “You should. You absolutely should. The Marietas are perfect—a good boat ride—swim, relax, hike. Weather’s supposed to be perfect. You’ll need lots of sunscreen…”
“Yes, Mom,” he scoffed, realizing some things would never change.
He looked back down at the center counter and reached for the rag to wipe it down. “I’ll ask her tonight. For tomorrow.”
“Good,” she encouraged.
“Yeah. I’ll just, you know, ask her.”
*
“You sure I can’t drive you to your hotel? It’s really not far.”
“Thanks, but no. I shouldn’t take any more of your time and your family’s kindness. Really.” She smiled. He had done so much in just forgiving her for skipping out on him, then giving her a slice of a different and sweet reality; a home and a family for the evening. He couldn’t possibly know how special that was.
Then the trust he’d given her the night before, putting his heart on the line. His first intimate experience since his wife had passed. Preeya still shivered from the thought, the weight, the depth of that notion.
And she, of course, couldn’t forget the incredible sensations he’d gifted her with. The vibrations still rang through her body, now more apparent since her mistaken fury had been diffused and his kindness had brought her heart to a new version of open.
No, she’d taken enough from him. “I’ll just take a cab and let you be with your family. You said you were only here for what, two or three days?”
“Yes, then on to a vaccination project.”
She smiled at him. He was so intriguing, giving, calming. “So, I guess…”
“Tomorrow,” he blurted.
“Oh, you’re leaving tomorrow?”
“No, no. I mean, tomorrow…let me take you to this place I love. The Marietas. They’re islands, a forty-minute boat ride from shore. At the opening of the bay. There’s a hidden beach, it’s just amazing. It’s my favorite place here. I want to take you, that is, if you have no plans?”
Plans? The only plan she had was to procrastinate her forced-upon R & R with herself. “But don’t Stacy and the kids want to spend time with you?”
&nb
sp; “The kids are in school every day and Stacy is a writer—when the kids are out, she’s in her zone and nothing and no one exists. So I’m on my own here. That is, except for dinnertimes. Otherwise, I get no attention, no love,” he said with a puppy-dog sadness in his eyes, then he smiled at her like he had last night. In the midst of their sensual play in the Boise hotel room, where he’d transported her to another place, another world.
And to have that again, God, it was so tempting.
But she just wasn’t sure. To drag this out…was it fair? What of her mandated alone time? Because she was so damn lost, and getting down to the problem and the solution—assuredly her and her, respectively—was so overdue. And based on Evan’s recent success after she’d left him, proof positive that her issues seemed contagious. And Ben was just too good of a man. Another day together—possibly a heavenly, unmatched day—wouldn’t it just be a painful tease? For them both? And…and…and.
His smile vanished during her mental deliberation. “I’ve gone by myself before, to the Marietas. No obligation, Preeya, really.” A polite grin followed.
He thought she didn’t want to go with him?
No, no. That wasn’t it.
But before she could form words from thought, he took a step back. “The islands are a great place to think, reflect…I recommend you do go, whenever you can. You’ll be here two days, you said?”
“No, I mean, yes, two days, but no, I wouldn’t want to go on my own. That’s not it,” she said, trying to drill into him her intended meaning with her eyes, because, damn it, her words were just not doing it. “I just feel—” Screw it. She said she wanted to venture, to gain new experiences and possibilities—to really live, right? “Yes. I would love to go with you. Tomorrow sounds wonderful.”
“Oh, great…yes, good.” He glowed, nodding, grinning, gazing. “Okay, so the boat leaves early, when it’s cooler…say I pick you up at eight?”
“Eight it is.”