by Gina Wilkins
“That was the goal. Dinner’s ready, by the way.”
“It smells delicious.”
“You haven’t even asked what we’re having.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not a picky eater. And I’m hungry enough to eat dirt soup tonight.”
She laughed. “It’s not quite that bad. I made Santa Fe chicken. Chicken, black beans, tomatoes and green chilies. Salad and wheat rolls on the side.”
“Sounds much better than dirt soup,” he agreed eagerly.
Laughing again, she led him to the table.
He helped himself to a generous portion of the dish, topping it with the sour cream and grated cheese she’d provided for garnish. They talked about her work while they ate and she made him laugh several times with amusing anecdotes from some of her parties.
She loved hearing him laugh, she thought with a little tingle of pleasure. Just as she loved seeing him eating her meal with such obvious pleasure. She loved seeing him looking relaxed and comfy at her table, more approachable now that he’d shed his white coat and tie, turning back the sleeves of his blue dress shirt to reveal his nice forearms. She loved…
Choking a little on a bite of chicken, she pushed any further thoughts along that line to the back of her mind. She didn’t even know James that well, she reprimanded herself. There was no need to get carried away here.
Chapter Eight
“Your parties sound great,” James said as he helped Shannon clear away the dishes after the meal, coordinating their movements in the tight space to keep from stumbling into each other. She did a few quick sidesteps to keep from brushing against him as she loaded the dishwasher, her pulse racing a little more each time they accidentally made contact.
“I have a feeling your business is going to be very successful once you get more fully established.”
Trying to keep her thoughts focused on the conversation and the task at hand, she replied, “I hope you’re right. My family keeps warning me that it’s difficult to make a living in a small business venture like mine.”
He shrugged. “Lots of people make a living running their own businesses. With enough passion and enough hustle, there’s no reason you can’t make a success of it. And you seem to have both.”
She beamed at him. “Thank you. That’s exactly the way I feel about it. Passionate and willing to hustle.”
“It shows,” he assured her.
She found herself staring at his smiling lips as she asked, “Would you like some dessert?”
“No, thank you. That second roll filled me up.”
“Coffee?”
“No, I’m good, thanks.”
She wasn’t quite sure what to do with him if she wasn’t feeding him. She motioned toward the living room. “We could sit and talk for a little while before you go. We’ve been talking about my day all evening. I’d like to hear about yours.”
He blinked, as if surprised that she’d be interested in his work. Was it really so rare for anyone to ask about his day? Sure, he was single and lived alone, but didn’t he talk to his friends? His parents?
He followed her into the living room and took a seat beside her on the couch. “What would you like to know?”
She sighed. “Don’t put on your doctor face, I don’t have any medical questions. I just wondered how your day went. Did anything funny happen? Do you like your rotation? Are you still interested in pursuing infectious disease training or do you like pulmonology even more now?”
He frowned, focusing on one particular phrase she had used rather than the question she’d asked. “My doctor face?”
“Yes. Hasn’t anyone mentioned that you have a different expression when you’re in physician mode than when you’re being just-James?”
“Um. No, not exactly. I’m not sure what you mean.”
She waved a hand in a vague gesture. “You just look different when you’re on the job. I can’t explain it, exactly. You’re sure no one else has said anything?”
“Well…”
“They have, haven’t they?”
Looking a little uncomfortable, he shrugged. “Not exactly in those words. But I’ve been told my communication skills could use some improvement, which to be honest, I don’t understand. I’ve never had any trouble talking with people. I don’t feel uncomfortable talking to patients or their families. They usually seem to understand what I’ve told them, they seem satisfied I know what I’m doing, but when they have questions or problems, they tend to wait to tell someone else rather than bringing it up with me.”
She tilted her head, studying him closely. “Have you talked about this with your study friends?”
He shifted a little uncomfortably. “No. There’s not a lot to discuss, really. I’ve gotten pretty good evaluations, for the most part, just an occasional comment that my communication could use some work.”
She suspected he hadn’t mentioned the critique to his parents, either, since he didn’t seem to be particularly close to them from what she had gathered. Didn’t James have anyone to turn to when he had a problem?
And there she went feeling a little sorry for him again, she thought with a slight shake of her head. Which was ridiculous, considering most people would have thought he led just about the perfect life.
“I’m sure you’re an excellent doctor, James,” she said gently. “In fact, I know you are. I’ve sort of seen you on in that light a couple of times. I’d trust any member of my family into your care—and my mother and sister are ready to hang a halo over your head because you’ve been so thoughtful and helpful with Kyle.”
She was secretly amused by the faint hint of color that appeared then disappeared almost as quickly on his lean cheeks. “I haven’t really done anything for Kyle. Just checked in on him a couple of times.”
“Which means a lot to them.”
“So what did you mean when you told me not to put on my ‘doctor face’?”
She hesitated a moment, then shrugged. “Like I said, you’re a bit different when you’re presenting yourself as a doctor. You get a little more serious, a little more formal in your speech. Don’t get me wrong, you’re still polite and pleasant, but you’re a bit…well…”
“What?”
“Intimidating.”
His eyes widened and she could tell the term took him aback.
“Which could explain why your patients save their questions for someone else,” she added. “Maybe they think you don’t have time for minor issues or questions. I’ve had doctors like that in the past. They just seemed so busy and so distracted that I hesitated to bother them with questions or complaints.”
He shook his head, obviously bothered by her comments. “I hope you’re wrong about that. I’ve certainly never tried to intimidate anyone.”
She rested a hand reassuringly on his arm. “I’m sure you haven’t. You just seem so confident and knowledgeable. Those are hardly criticisms.”
He didn’t look particularly reassured. “Those same two words have been used to describe my father. I’ve spent my entire adult life trying not to turn into him.”
She patted his forearm. With a slight laugh, she said, “It’s common enough for a man to want to distinguish himself from his dad—just as many women vow never to turn into their mothers. Doesn’t mean we don’t love them—we just want to establish our own personalities.”
He shook his head. “You haven’t met my father, so you can’t quite understand—but trust me, my dad goes to great lengths to intimidate people with his superior intelligence. I’m not trying to establish my independence by trying to act differently. I’m trying to treat other people with more respect than he does.”
The more she heard about James’s father, the more she suspected she wouldn’t like him. She was beginning to understand James a little better, though there were still many facets of him that were a mystery to her—all of them fascinating.
“Then you’ve succeeded,” she said loyally. “You have always been respectful of me and
of my family, which is why we all like you so much.”
It occurred to her that she was still clutching his bare arm beneath the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt. The warmth of his skin penetrated her palm, heating her blood. She felt a muscle flex beneath her hand, as if he, too, had suddenly become aware of the contact.
He covered her hand with his other hand, giving her fingers a little squeeze. “I like you, too,” he said, his voice suddenly sounding a half octave deeper.
Her heart stuttered over a couple of beats. Like, he had said. He liked her. A perfectly innocuous and friendly statement, certainly nothing that should make her pulse leap this way. Hadn’t she just told him that she liked him, too? It was ridiculous for her to feel this schoolgirl breathlessness over such an innocent comment.
And yet there was nothing innocent about the gleam in his eyes when they lowered slowly from her own, pausing to study her mouth as if memorizing the contours. As if he were mentally replaying the one brief kiss they had shared. At least, that was what she was doing. She could almost taste him again now—which only fueled her hunger for another sample.
She wasn’t sure which of them leaned forward first. Maybe the movement was simultaneous. Their lips met with no hesitation on either part, no fumbling or surprise.
Somehow her arms were around his neck. Somehow his were around her back. And she was draped half across his lap, feeling the warmth of him surrounding her, the strength of him against her. Feeling his body’s reaction to the embrace, which only intensified her own.
Maybe James had a little trouble expressing himself in words. Maybe he’d been trained too well during his childhood to keep his deepest emotions hidden. But he was certainly communicating very clearly now. She had no trouble at all determining what he wanted. Probably because she wanted the same thing.
She drew her head back a couple of inches to study his face when the kiss ended. He met her gaze openly, making no effort to hide his desire, nor his willingness to leave the next step up to her.
She should send him on his way. They’d known each other only a month—not exactly a long time. They had already implicitly agreed the relationship wouldn’t be a lasting one. In only two weeks, he’d be leaving town for two months, after which, who knew if she would ever see him again?
“You still make me nervous, James,” she said on a slight sigh.
“But in a good way,” she added when his brows drew into a frown. “Mostly.”
His beautiful, skilled mouth twitched. “And you still confuse the hell out of me. In a good way. Mostly.”
She could resist flattery. Persuasion. Even pleading. But she found James’s gentle teasing downright irresistible.
She simply had to taste that little smile again. She planted her mouth against his, winding her fingers in the thick, dark hair at the back of his head. James responded instantly, his lips parting to deepen the kiss, stealing any coherent thought from her mind. A shift of his weight, and she lay half-beneath him on the thick-cushioned sofa. A throw pillow tumbled unheeded to the floor—she swept another out of the way as she snuggled into him.
Their legs tangled as their mouths met, separated, met again, tongues dueling, exploring. James’s hand was hot against her stomach beneath her white top. She arched into him, filling his palm with her aching breast, feeling his fingers moving over the thin covering of her white cotton bra. For only a moment, she wished she were wearing something a little more exotic beneath her plain work uniform, but James seemed pleased enough with what he saw when he swept her top over her head.
His mouth sought out the pounding pulse in her neck and at the base of her throat, then slid lower to send her pulse rate soaring even higher. She gasped at the first feel of his tongue and teeth against her sensitized breast, but her hands urged him not to stop the exquisite torment.
He lifted his head and his eyes were enchantingly glazed. She loved knowing she was the reason for that dazed and unfocused look. “Um—maybe I should…?”
“You should stay,” she murmured, stroking his cheek with one unsteady hand. “Let’s go to my room.”
He hesitated only long enough to search her face with one sweeping glance—maybe proving to himself that she had no doubts. Since there were no doubts for him to see—none she allowed herself to show him, anyway—he smiled and rose, holding out a hand to help her up.
“Don’t get up.” James pressed a hand on Shannon’s shoulder as he leaned fully dressed over the bed to kiss her goodbye. “It’s late. Go back to sleep.”
At least he hadn’t left without letting her know, she thought, blinking up at his silhouette against the dim light from the window behind him. She’d have hated waking up to find herself in an empty bed without having heard him leave.
“What time is it?”
“A little after midnight. I have to be at the hospital early, so I’m going home to get some sleep first.”
Clutching the sheet in front of her, she reached up to kiss him again. “Be careful going home. And have a good day tomorrow.”
“I will, and thanks, you, too. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Peering into the shadows, she watched him leave the room. She listened as the front door closed behind him, then heard his car start and fade down the street. Only then did she close her eyes again, nestling into the sheets that were still warm from his body.
Maybe there would be second thoughts tomorrow, but for tonight, she was too sleepy and satisfied to care.
Devin was waiting in the living room when Shannon stumbled in the next morning, red hair still damp from her shower. She was buttoning the white shirt she wore with her work khakis, and she’d donned just enough makeup to make her presentable for the day. She had about half an hour to make and eat her breakfast and head for the toy store, she thought with a glance at her watch.
She looked up to find her housemate sitting in a chair, slowly waving a white shirt in one hand. It was the shirt Shannon had worn yesterday—the one James had tossed onto the floor the night before.
“So…”
Shannon cleared her throat. “Um, so that’s where I left that.”
“I emptied the dishwasher before I left yesterday. And yet I noticed that there were two plates, two glasses, two forks and two knives in there this morning. And a good portion of our slow-cooker meal was gone—either you were very hungry or you had company last night.”
“James joined me for dinner last night.”
“I have a feeling that’s not all he joined you for,” Devin murmured.
Shannon cocked an eyebrow and sailed past her toward the kitchen, from which the aroma of coffee wafted temptingly. “Have you had anything to eat?”
Devin followed her into the kitchen, tossing the telltale shirt over the back of a chair. “I had a candy bar. I’ll have some of that leftover chicken after I’ve grabbed a few hours of sleep.”
“You should eat something healthier than a candy bar. That’s not exactly good for you.”
“Speaking of things that aren’t good for you…”
Pausing with a box of oatmeal in her hand, Shannon leveled a look at her friend. “Instead of trying to be clever, how about just telling me what’s bugging you?”
Devin shrugged. “I’ve been asking around a little about your new boyfriend.”
“James isn’t my boyfriend,” Shannon denied automatically.
Devin glanced meaningfully at the white shirt, making Shannon flush a little, then turn quickly toward the cabinets to pull out a breakfast bowl. “Why have you been asking about him, anyway?”
“Just curious. I mean, it seemed like you fell kind of hard and fast for the guy. I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t another Philip, you know? Another jerk doctor.”
“Philip was a dentist.”
“You know what I mean.”
Scowling, Shannon slammed a spoon onto the counter. “Since when do we check up on each other’s friends? Despite the disaster with Philip—which I eventually handled on my own, by the way�
��I’m quite capable of deciding who I should spend time with. You of all people know how I feel about others interfering in my life, even if it’s for my own good. Maybe especially if it’s for my own good,” she added in a grumble.
“I know, and I wasn’t trying to check up on him exactly,” Devin assured her hastily. “I was just curious if anyone around the hospital knew anything about him, since I haven’t met him.”
She really didn’t want to ask, but she was unable to resist. “So? What did you hear? What makes you think James isn’t good for me?”
“Turns out he dated Elissa Copeland last year. She’s a pharmacy student, and she’s a friend of Nicki Pearl, who’s one of the nurses I work with a lot.”
Shannon nodded to show she had followed the connections. “So he dated a pharmacy student. What’s the big deal? Did he break her heart or something?”
“Well, no, from what I heard he just bruised her ego a little. She kind of had her heart set on snagging a rich doctor and he made it clear he wasn’t interested in anything long-term.”
Shannon moistened her lips. “That’s not a problem. Neither am I. James and I have already agreed we’re just having fun for now.”
And he’d been awfully quick to agree, she remembered. She’d sort of thought the firm stipulation had been her idea. Had he encouraged her to believe that?
“And anyway, he’s a medical student, not a full doctor,” she added. “He won’t graduate until May and then he’s got six years of residency ahead of him before he’s ready to start his own practice.”
“Yeah, well, let’s just say he doesn’t have to worry about paying his bills while he completes his training. I doubt that he even had to take a loan to go to medical school, and you know almost all of them are on loans at least to some extent.”
Reluctant as she was to speculate about James’s money, Shannon argued, “His parents are both college professors. I’m sure they do okay, but…”
“He hasn’t mentioned his grandfather?”
Something about Devin’s tone made Shannon pause before replying, “Um…no. He said something about his maternal grandmother.”