by Ann Mcintosh
“I—” She’d wanted to disagree, but the lie wouldn’t pass her lips. Instead she’d concentrated on not sniffling, hoping Aliya wouldn’t realize she was crying.
“Don’t tell me you don’t. I won’t believe you.” Then her cousin’s voice had softened. “Listen, best-case scenario is he has feelings for you too, and won’t care that you’re pregnant. Worst-case is that he does care, and his feelings aren’t strong enough for him to see past it. But the only way you’re going to know what will happen...”
“Is for me to tell him.” Abandoning her attempt to hide her tears from her cousin, Nychelle had blown her nose. “I know I should—but it’s all happened so suddenly. It feels as though I’m making more out of the situation than I should.”
“Have the conversation, Nych. Whichever way it goes, at least you’ll know.”
Aliya was right, of course.
Now restless, Nychelle got up and wandered over to the sliding glass door. Looking out at the verdant greenery in her backyard usually calmed her, but today it didn’t. In less than half an hour she’d be thrown into David’s company again. Just thinking about it made her body tighten and heat. No other man had ever had this effect on her—not even Nick, who she’d thought was her forever guy. Despite telling herself it was hormones, deep down she knew it wasn’t. This attraction was too intense, too multi-faceted to dismiss.
If it had just been the physical attraction, she probably could have ignored it, but what she couldn’t disregard was how deeply she liked and admired him too. Long gone were her fears about his character. Everything she’d seen about him told her he was trustworthy, and a genuinely wonderful man. It wouldn’t take much to push her over into falling for him completely.
So, yes, she was going to have to deal with it...
But not today.
This chance to spend time with him was, in a way, a gift. She was going to take advantage of the opportunity to simply take pleasure in his company without strings or overanalyzing.
It’ll be a last hurrah.
The decision was calming, soothing, giving her permission to enjoy the day without giving too much weight to what would happen next.
Buoyed by that thought, she went to finish getting ready, excitement tingling over her skin.
* * *
David glanced over at Nychelle as he steered the car into the river cruise parking structure. She looked relaxed, and that made his trepidation wane.
Bearing in mind their encounter in her office, he hadn’t known what to expect, and when Martin had explained the situation his first impulse had been to suggest they postpone their outing until the whole family could go. But Martin had insisted Nychelle was expecting him, and David hadn’t wanted to sound churlish, or make a big deal out of it when she obviously didn’t care.
There had been a hint of tension in the air, but after a slightly stiff greeting at her door it had mostly dissipated.
“The riverfront area is nice to walk through. Good restaurants and shopping, if you’re into that kind of thing.”
She’d been acting like a tour guide, pointing out various places of interest, like the Broward Center for the Performing Arts and the Museum of Discovery and Science, along with a Jamaican restaurant she said was amazing.
While he parked in an empty space she continued, “I prefer to go there when it’s a little cooler. Somehow the heat isn’t as bad when you’re on the water.”
She didn’t wait for him to open her door, but got out immediately and, closing the door with a firm snap, gestured toward the exit.
“Let’s go find us a water taxi.”
When he rounded the back of the car she’d started walking, but then suddenly she stopped and turned to face him.
“Listen,” she said. “I know we should talk about what happened between us. It’s the adult thing to do. But can we shelve it for now and just enjoy the day?” Her hands fluttered between them. “I just need some more time to get things straight in my head, okay?”
He should be thankful—and a part of him was. Rubbing the back of his neck, he once more contemplated just how confused and contradictory his feelings were when it came to her. Even though he’d repeatedly told himself the best thing they could do was pretend none of it had happened and maintain the status quo, the urge to push, to find out exactly what she was thinking, was strong.
Yet this was an opportunity to simply be with her, without worrying about what his emotions meant or what to do about them. So, accepting her request to put it all aside for the day, he nodded. “Okay. So where do we go from here?”
Nychelle looked around, choosing to ignore the less literal interpretation of his words.
“This way,” she said, pointing down a pathway.
“Do we need to buy tickets?” David asked as they approached the riverside restaurant where apparently they’d board the taxi.
“No, Martin got them online and I printed the vouchers. I thought about booking one of the guided tours,” she told him, leading him into the restaurant. “But this way we can get off and on the taxis whenever we want, without being tied down to a specific route.”
“Wow, this place is...colorful.” David looked at the ceiling, where all manner of nautical gear and beach-themed tchotchkes hung.
A large wooden mermaid caught his attention. When he raised his eyebrows at her suggestive pose, Nychelle giggled.
“It’s a true tourist spot,” she told him, petting a plastic parrot with an eye patch and still chuckling. “But although some these things are just kitsch, many things are real equipment used on boats in the past.”
David smiled at that, his mood lightening even more with her laughter. “You don’t have to tell me.” Pointing at his chest, he went on, “South Carolinian, remember? I recognize the glass fishing globes and old-school breathing apparatus.”
“Darn it.” She added a pout to her disgruntled tone. “You’re spoiling my tour guide spiel!”
“Okay, I won’t say another word.”
David mimed zipping and locking his lips, then throwing away the key. It was silly, and not something he’d usually do unless he was around his family, who knew and understood his lighter side, but it felt natural to show this aspect of himself to Nychelle.
“You nut.”
Nychelle swatted him on the arm, and he hoped their easy camaraderie would last for the whole day. It felt so right.
“Do you want a drink before the taxi comes?” she asked.
“Mmph-mmm-hmm-mmm.” Keeping his lips pressed together was hard, with a grin trying its best to break through, and when Nychelle swatted him again David couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Hey, I promised not to say another word.”
“Oh, you...you...”
“Careful, Nurse Cory.” He gave her a stern look, knowing his twitching lips gave away his amusement. “Let’s not sully that sweet, professional disposition everyone talks about.”
“Ha!” Turning up her nose, she replied, “At least no one at work calls me names like Dr. Heat.”
“Argh!” He was still smiling, but embarrassment made warmth spread across his face. “One of the other doctors told me about that and I thought he was kidding.”
“Nope.” She was giggling so hard she could barely get the word out, and she took a couple of hitched breaths before she continued. “In the nurses’ lounge it’s all, ‘Dr. Heat said this...’ and ‘Dr. Heat is so dreamy...’ It’s a wonder your ears don’t burn all day long.”
“Now you’re just being a brat.” He lifted her hand and nipped the knuckle of her index finger. “Stop that.”
“Ow.” She pouted again, and tried to pull away. “Just because you don’t appreciate being sexualized it doesn’t mean you can be nasty when it’s pointed out.”
“‘Sexualized?’” He groaned dramatically. “That’s what I get for going out with a psychiatrist
’s daughter? Big words and overanalyzing?”
She opened her mouth, as though to make a scathing rebuttal, but instead broke out in giggles again.
David couldn’t maintain his air of indignation either, and soon cracked under the strain of their combined silliness—so much so that when the water taxi drew up to the dock they practically reeled toward it, rather than walked.
The crew member who checked their vouchers grinned at them. “You folks look like you’re already enjoying the day.”
“It’s a gorgeous one,” Nychelle replied, and David nodded his agreement.
Watching her face, her brilliant smile, had him thinking the perfect, cloudless day was nowhere near as beautiful as she was.
They made their way to one of the seats in the shade, near the bow, and he settled onto the padded bench beside her, appreciating the breeze coming off the water. Around them the boat filled up, a cacophony of diverse languages filling the air as different groups came aboard.
“Do many locals use the river taxis?” he asked.
“Not really,” Nychelle replied. “It’s more of a tourist thing—although bar-hopping along the waterfront using the taxis as transportation can be fun. It’s easier than trying to find parking if you want to go to the beach too.” She chuckled and shook her head. “But most people are so used to driving they don’t remember it’s available.”
David tipped his head back to catch more of the breeze. “The tourists have it right. I’d rather do this than drive in circles looking for a parking space.”
“Me too.” Nychelle was still smiling. “There’s always a little wind to stir the air when you’re on the water, so it really is a nice way to travel. Far nicer than being in an air-conditioned car.”
“Ha!” He snorted. “Don’t knock the air-conditioning. I’ve really come to love Florida, but the heat and humidity takes some getting used to.”
“I’m sure it does,” she replied. “Especially after being in Chicago.”
As they chatted about the hazards of winter, and how different it was in the south, the boat pulled away from the dock and the captain set a leisurely course down the New River.
“Have you convinced your parents to come visit yet?” Nychelle turned sideways on the seat, so she was facing him to ask the question.
“Not yet.” He gazed toward the north shore, his amusement waning. “I’ve got my sister working on them too.” Thinking about his no-nonsense little sister made him smile again. “Of course, Mary-Liz says if they won’t come she and the kids would be happy to take their place.”
“Of course!” Nychelle chuckled, shifting to put her arm up on the bench cushion behind her. “Why don’t your parents want to come?”
Again, not something he’d usually discuss, but talking to her was so easy. “They haven’t traveled much, and just thinking about navigating through airports makes my mom break out in hives.” She nodded, and he liked it that she showed no amusement about their fears. He continued, “Dad would never admit that’s the case with him too, but he doesn’t have to. I know the truth.”
Glancing down at the hand lying casually in her lap, he wished he had the right to take it and hold it. Instead he looked out over the water again.
“He has heart problems, and I’m a little worried the strain may bring on an angina attack, so I’m not pushing too hard.”
As though reading his mind, Nychelle gave his hand a quick squeeze. When she let go, he immediately missed the contact.
“Have you thought about going up and then having them fly back with you? Or, if they really don’t want to fly, driving them down? It’s about nine hours from Atlanta to here. How long a drive would it be from where they live?”
Emotion rushed warm and sweet through his chest and he couldn’t help staring at her as he replied, “About the same.”
Nychelle lifted a hand to smooth her hair, the gesture uncertain. “Why are you looking at me that way?”
“Why didn’t I think of that?” He shook his head. Then, throwing caution to the wind, he reached out to thread his fingers through hers, and was ridiculously happy when she didn’t tug her hand away. “You’re incredible.”
“Don’t be silly.” She dipped her head, as though shy, and the warmth in his chest spread out into his belly. “You would have thought of it sooner or later.”
“Probably not,” he replied, tightening his grip on her hand when she gently tried to pull it free. She stilled. “It’s the kind of solution only someone with a completely empathetic soul would come up with straight off the bat.”
She looked at him and said quickly, “By the way, keep an eye out for manatees. They’re the reason the boat has to go so slowly, and every now and then you’ll see a tail pop up out of the water.”
“Okay,” he replied, but his gaze never left her face and he felt no inclination to look away.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DAVID KEPT STARING, and Nychelle was the one who looked away first. It felt as though something important had just happened, yet she didn’t know what. Rushing to speak, she tried for a much less intimate subject, hoping to curtail the tension flowing between them.
“By the way, while I remember, our patient Carmen Fitzpatrick released a statement to the media about having sickle cell disease.”
“Really?” There was genuine surprise in his voice, and when she looked at him his eyebrows were raised. “I thought she was fanatical about her privacy?”
“She always has been, but maybe she decided it was better to do it when she wanted to, rather than have someone dig it up and blindside her—like you and her manager said might happen.”
“Hmm.” Leaning back, still staring intently at her, he asked, “How did you find out?”
“Martin’s daughter, Leighann, told me. Once the news broke she looked up the disease and had questions.” Nychelle shook her head. “Her parents are both doctors but she called me for information and to discuss it. Go figure.”
“She probably knows you’ll give it to her straight. Besides, you’re both fans, so it makes sense to talk to you about it rather than her parents.”
“I guess...”
She feigned interest in the passing scenery and pushed her sunglasses farther up her nose, still a little shaken by the strangely intimate moment they’d just shared. This man could upset her equilibrium like no one ever had before. The way he watched her, whether smiling or, like just now, with that serious, searching expression, just made her shiver.
Lost in thought, she was a little surprised when he reverted to their previous conversation.
“So, how do you know how long it takes to drive to Atlanta? Do you go there often?”
“A few times a year, usually, since my cousin Aliya—Martin’s little sister—moved there four years ago. I don’t always drive, but sometimes I just like the idea of a road trip.”
“You’re close?”
“Best friends practically since we were born.” She smiled at the thought of Aliya and her craziness, and her excitement at the thought of being an honorary auntie. “We spent all our time at each other’s houses...went to school together. Our families even migrated at the same time, so it was only when we went to college that we were first really apart.”
“Don’t tell me—she’s a doctor too?”
Nychelle nodded. “Uh-huh. An hematologist-oncologist, specializing in research into childhood hematological cancers and the effect of known cancer treatments on kids.”
David’s lips quirked. “You really do come from a family of overachievers, don’t you?”
Nychelle gave him a grin. “You know it.”
The boat had already stopped a couple of times to pick up passengers and was now once more edging toward shore.
“Ooh,” she said, pointing, hoping to distract him. “That’s the Stranahan House Museum. It’s reputed to be haunted an
d they sometimes have ghost tours, including a nighttime boat ride.”
David seemed less interested in the historic house than he was in her life, though.
“Why was it that you decided not to become a doctor too? It seems as though it’s a family tradition.”
She hesitated, torn between complete honesty and a slightly less revealing version of the truth. Today wasn’t the day to get too deep, she reminded herself.
Just keep it light.
“Overachieving requires a singularity of focus I’ve never truly been interested in. I wanted to have a life outside of work. Have room for days like today, when there’s nothing more pressing than drifting down a river, having a laugh or two.”
He leaned back against the cushions and even with his dark glasses in place she knew he was subjecting her to another of his intent stares. It caused little prickles of awareness to tiptoe along her spine.
“But I’m a doctor, and I’m here drifting down the river too.”
“Sure.” She nodded. “But how old were you when you finished your residency?”
“Thirty,” he replied.
“There you go.” She waved a hand for emphasis. “I’m not quite thirty yet, and I’ve been out of school and living my life for a while—whereas I’m sure you’ve had to put off a lot of stuff, make a lot of sacrifices, to get to where you are now. I’ve been able to do some traveling, save up for a house and advance my career, all within the frame of time it took you to graduate. That’s what I wanted, rather than MD after my name. Aliya is brilliant—she graduated far earlier than her peers and has already made a name for herself—but she admits she wishes she’d had more of a life when she was in college.”
There was much more to it, but she hoped he wouldn’t dig any deeper.
Trying to steer him off that track, she continued, “And you yourself said my job is just as important as yours. Did you mean it, or were you just trying to annoy my father?”
“Not at all.” David paused as the boat bumped the dock near Stranahan House, putting one large, warm hand on her arm as if to steady her. “I do believe it.” He grinned. “Besides, if I really wanted to aggravate your dad I’d have said your job was more important than mine—and his.”