by Marni Mann
“Bye.”
I pushed myself off the wall and went over to check out the food. I should have reached for the deli meat and cheese, definitely needing the protein to keep me going, but I went for the sweets instead. I added another cookie to my plate and a muffin that had some crunchy crumbles on top.
Rebecca had already left, so I moved into the corner to eat, and just as I was swallowing my first bite, a familiar face walked into the break room.
“Get over here,” I gasped, setting my treats on the windowsill to wrap my arms around Emily. “How do you feel? Are you sore from falling?”
“I’m fine. I just haven’t seen you in almost forty-eight hours, and I needed to put my eyes on my girls to make sure you were all still kicking.” She pulled away, a grin lighting up her face. “I see you’re enjoying Caleb’s goodies.”
“How did you know about this?”
“He reached out through Instagram and told me his plan, asking about your favorite foods.” She took a bite of my cookie. “Oh, but it doesn’t end there. He even shot me a text when he called you and told me your whereabouts, so I’d be able to find you.”
“I’m … speechless.”
“I knew you would be.” She brushed a crumb off my top. “Have you been downstairs? Security is nuts, but on the plus side, some hottie cop named Charlie rubbed his wand all over me. I guess they’re worried about another bomber popping up.” When I stayed frozen, my focus still on the news she’d just shared, she lifted a piece of muffin and held it in front of my mouth. “Did we just fall in love with Caleb?”
I ate from her fingers and said, “No … maybe.” I took a deep breath. “But I’m kind of exploding from his sweetness.”
“Even my heart is fluttering.” She leaned her shoulder into the wall. “Have you seen the girls?”
I finished the rest of the cookie, the chocolate still gooey and melting on my tongue. “Just Rebecca. She looks as bad as I do. They’ve pulled nurses from other hospitals outside the city to help with coverage, but I honestly don’t know when I’ll be home.”
She tucked chunks of hair behind my ears, my bun needing a redo hours ago. “I know you’re like Night of the Living Dead at the moment, but Caleb’s attention looks radiant on you.”
“I have almost every bodily fluid on me right now, which”—I took another bite of the muffin—“is a terrifying thought as I’m eating, but thank you.”
There was a ringing from my pocket, and I pressed my work phone against my ear and said, “This is Whitney.”
“Hey, doll,” the unit secretary said. “Patient in room 614 needs you.”
“I’ll be right there.”
“Go,” Emily said, taking my plate for me while I shoved in whatever was left on it. “And text me when you can, so I know you’re still breathing.”
We kissed cheeks, and I rushed out of the room. As I headed down the hallway, I typed Caleb a message.
Me: And maybe a second date too …
Caleb: Looking forward to both.
Twenty
“Good Lord, woman,” Emily said as she walked into my bedroom. “You look all kinds of sexy.”
“Are you sure?” I turned in the mirror, undecided if the top hugged me the right way or if it was the most unflattering shirt I owned. “I’ve already changed three times.”
She moved in front of me, blocking my view while she gripped my shoulders. “Whit, you could make puke-green pleats look hot. You could also wear a trash bag, and I don’t think Caleb would care.”
“Not true.” I shook my head, feeling my curls bounce. “You’re forgetting he’s Ben Affleck delicious, and men like that don’t date garbage bags.”
“You’re forgetting you’re more beautiful than Jennifer Garner, so there’s that too.”
I laughed and thought about my interactions with Caleb over the last week. I’d spent four nights at the hospital following the bombing, and then it had taken two days of sleep before I felt normal enough to function. Each morning, he’d sent a text to check on me, never pushing to come up with a date for us to meet, but making it clear he wanted to see me.
“You know my unfiltered ass would tell you if your outfit sucked. That isn’t the case; it’s perfect on you.” She released my shoulders and walked over to the bed. “What’s the plan for tonight?”
I shrugged. “He wouldn’t tell me.”
“He sure does like the element of surprise.”
“And adrenaline,” I replied, remembering one of the conversations we’d had before I went to the restroom, when he’d told me about some of the adventures he’d taken.
I got the sense he was the type of man who never sat still. During my downtime, still was all I wanted, constantly catching up on sleep from the hours that had drained me at the hospital. It had become a cycle that Emily was always trying to drag me out of.
But I couldn’t let go of my job—my past kept me chained there—the same way I couldn’t leave the specialty of ortho/neuro.
“So, he’s outdoorsy?” she asked.
“It sounds like he does it all—land and sea.”
She looked amused. “And my best friend is, like, this beautiful oyster, just waiting to be plucked and eaten from her shell.”
The hoops banged into my cheeks as I reacted to her. “I can’t with you.” I glanced in the mirror again. “Time check?”
“Ten minutes.”
The words had barely left her mouth when my phone chimed from the bed.
Emily lifted my cell and said, “Scratch that. He’s downstairs.” Our eyes met. “It looks like he drove, and that’s why he’s not coming up—there’s no parking outside.”
“Shit, I don’t feel like I’m ready.”
“Oh, stop. If you twirl in front of that mirror one more time, you’re going to make yourself dizzy.” She handed me my phone along with my purse and the lightweight jacket that she’d grabbed from my chair.
“Where would he be driving us to?” I inquired as she walked me to the door. “It’s the city; we take public transportation everywhere.”
“Not the adrenaline junkie who carries a thousand dollars in his wallet everywhere he goes.” We kissed cheeks. “Now, listen, if you have sex in the front seat, watch your head; something tells me he has a sports car, and those can be really low.”
“We both know that’s not happening tonight.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “Have fun, babe.”
I heard the door shut behind me as I made my way to the elevator, taking it down to the lobby, instantly spotting his fancy car double-parked along the curb.
The windows were too tinted to see in, but his handsome face took me hostage the minute I climbed inside. “Hi.” The same was true once I sat down and got a whiff of his cologne, a scent that was woodsy and citrusy.
His eyes didn’t leave mine, devouring me in a way that I felt inside my chest. “You look gorgeous, Whitney.”
Every time he said my name, it felt like he was whispering the syllables against my skin.
I hardly knew anything about this man, but since the moment he had come into my life, something felt different. Like we had spun together in a windy storm, fast-forwarding several months, where the breeze finally spit us out.
“Come here.” His hand reached through the air and landed on my cheek, his body leaning forward to kiss the other side of me. “Coconut,” he whispered before pulling away. “Are you ready to go?”
I nodded, my senses overpowered as he shifted into gear. I kept my gaze on him, wandering over his sports jacket, button-down, and jeans, the shiny black shoes that were on his feet. Not only was he extremely good-looking, but he also knew how to dress.
“Are we going somewhere in Boston?” I asked, observing the way he navigated traffic, learning he had no patience for it.
He downshifted as he approached a red light, and I felt the moment his eyes were on me again. He said nothing for a few seconds and then, “I enjoy surprising you.”
“You know,
inside the hospital, I’m rarely shocked. I’ve seen everything. But you managed to do that the other day.”
“I have no intention of stopping.”
The smile grew across my face, a strong wave of heat right behind it.
“Especially when I see how much you enjoy it,” he added.
The light turned green, and his focus returned to the windshield.
“Would it be silly if I told you I’m already having fun?”
He reached across the seat, grazing the side of my face before resting his fingers on top of mine. “Get comfortable. We have a little bit of a drive ahead of us.”
“We’re leaving the city?”
He left me to shift and didn’t return, weirdly making me miss him. “I know how hard this must be, seeing the aftermath at the hospital every day, and I thought you could use a little break.”
He was right; it was as emotionally painful as what some of my patients were going through physically, and I just wanted to heal them all. But I couldn’t allow myself to feel guilty over this tiny escape.
I also couldn’t shake the feeling that he was starting to know me very well.
Twenty-One
Caleb moved his fork across the table, holding his other hand beneath it in case anything fell, and said, “Try this.”
I leaned into the edge of the wood, getting as close to him as I could, and opened my mouth. “Oh my God,” I groaned the moment the savory lamb touched my tongue, the flavor slowly unraveling.
“Bon appétit,” the chef said from the cooking station that had been set up next to us. “Let my staff know if we can get you anything.”
Caleb and I thanked him, and suddenly, we were alone in the dining room of the restaurant he had rented for the evening, all the way in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, an hour outside of Boston. During our first course, I’d learned that the chef was Caleb’s client, tonight’s menu something the two men had worked on together. Caleb had wanted to have the whole place to ourselves, so the chef could set up by our table, and we could watch him cook.
An experience unlike anything I’d ever had.
I took a bite of the haddock the chef had prepared with purple potatoes and a mix of greens—fiddleheads that had been sprinkled with lemon zest. “Please forgive me if I moan through this whole meal. It’s outstanding.”
Caleb set his fork down and lifted his wineglass, watching me from the other side of the small table. “I want nothing more than to make you smile.”
“That’s all I’ve been doing since you picked me up.”
He studied my face for several beats before he took a sip. “And it’s been beautiful to watch.”
Heat rushed past my cheeks; I was sure he could see it under the candlelight. I tried to hide it by taking another bite of fish.
“Tell me more about you, Whitney.”
I swallowed, wiping my mouth with the napkin from my lap. “I’m from Stowe, Vermont, where my parents and brothers still live. I went to BU and roomed with Emily my freshman year, and we’ve lived together ever since. I started at Mass General the moment I graduated and have never left.”
“You’re the oldest child.”
I nodded. “Good guess.”
“It wasn’t a guess. The youngest and middle children don’t become the nurse; the oldest does because they always have to care for the others.”
My chest tightened, and I glanced at my plate. “Yes, I definitely did a lot of that.”
“Why ortho/neuro?”
He’d asked Emily my unit, so he knew where to send the food, but I’d never expected this question from him tonight.
Another surprise.
But not a good one.
“I lost my brother David a month before my sixteenth birthday; he had been paralyzed from the neck down, an accident I’d tragically witnessed. His injury was what inspired nursing, and that led me to this specialty.”
And years of guilt that continued to choke me.
I reached for my wine, holding it tightly.
“I’m sorry, Whitney.”
I waved my hand in the air, brushing it off, hoping he would move on.
“What are your parents like?”
Now, that was a topic I could discuss without tears.
“Their picture belongs on the front of an applesauce jar.”
He laughed.
“My dad in the recliner with their yellow Lab by his feet, Mom snuggled in the corner of the couch, knitting. Tea on the table between them, resting on doilies. They’re every bit of Vermont that you can imagine.”
“I’m picturing the scene right now.”
“What are your mom and dad like? And your siblings?”
He set down his knife after cutting a potato and finished chewing. “I’m an only child. As for my parents, they’re more like the cover of Forbes. Endearing one percent of the time, all business the rest. We work together; we’re partners.”
A hardness moved into his eyes, a side of him I hadn’t seen yet.
“Well, they obviously raised you right and mentored you to be extremely successful at what you do.”
“Is that a guess?”
I shook my head, leaning on the table again. “My gut tells me you’re the kind of guy who wouldn’t be proud to drive a sports car that your father bought you. You would wait until you could purchase it in cash because you wouldn’t want to pay the interest.”
He laughed even harder this time. “Go on. What else do you know about me?”
“I think your job can be unbearably stressful, and adrenaline is your drug. A little isn’t enough anymore, so you continue to look for new adventures that will heighten that intensity.”
His Instagram account was public, and this afternoon, I’d scrolled through his feed, which showed his mountain biking and hiking, snowmobiling and white-water rafting. The terrain seemed to get more challenging as the years progressed.
“All right, Dr. Phil. Tell me this: why aren’t I married?”
I was quiet for several seconds, watching his eyes.
There wasn’t a single photo of a woman anywhere on his page. Unless he had deleted them, but I didn’t sense he would waste his time doing that. He just wouldn’t post a picture unless things were serious, telling me he hadn’t reached that status.
“You’ve lusted hard, but you’ve never loved.” I took a drink. “My guess is, there have been some fun ones. They just never accepted you for you.” I paused as his gaze warmed. “How’d I do?”
“Did you ever consider getting into psych?”
It was my turn to laugh. “I’m just observant, and I listen for a living. They say the truth comes out when you’re drunk; the same is true when you’re in pain. People turn extremely vulnerable; it’s remarkable, the things my patients have shared with me.”
He finished his glass, the fire glowing across his face. “Now, how is someone as stunning as you not married?”
“Do you want to take a stab at it?”
His silence felt like he was reaching inside of me. “You’ve fallen but only as far as skinning your knees.”
My hands shook at the accuracy of that statement. Not a single man from my past had made me breathless, and none of them would have stopped me from rushing into the street after a bombing to help the victims in need.
“Caleb, you’re not so bad at this yourself.”
He turned back to his meal and asked, “What’s your work schedule normally like?”
“Twelve-hour shifts, three days a week. Usually, they’re consecutive; sometimes, they’re not. Most weeks, I pick up a shift of overtime.”
“Four days off gives you a lot of flexibility.”
I shrugged, never thinking of it that way, especially when I almost always took on extra hours. And the total I put in each week was so taxing that I was constantly trying to catch up on life. “I suppose it does.”
“Do you travel when you’re off?”
I sighed. “That would be a dream. I want to go everywhere, and I’ve been
nowhere.”
He set his elbows on the table. “If you could go anywhere for those four days, where would you go?”
“Within driving distance or jumping on a plane?”
“If money wasn’t an option.”
I twirled the stem of the glass, the wine sloshing against the inside.
“Or …” I looked up as he continued, “Would you rather have me surprise you?”
A shiver moved through my body, tingles erupting in my stomach. “Surprise me.”
And at that moment, I realized what I had just committed to.
Even though it was a cool spring night, we drove back to Boston with the windows down. Caleb’s hand intertwined with mine, resting on my lap once we hit the interstate.
With each mile that passed, I thought of my life just a week ago, where, for dinner one night, Emily and I had shared a sandwich and a cup of soup from the bodega by our apartment. Tonight couldn’t have been further from normal.
Things were changing, and I needed to be prepared for that.
As we pulled up to my building, there weren’t any spots available out front, so he double-parked again.
Since he wasn’t able to get out of the car, I turned to him in the seat, the subtleness of his yummy, woodsy scent still in the air. “Thank you for an amazing night.” I paused as his fingers tightened around mine, making my hand feel so tiny. “It was the best evening I’ve had in a long time.”
“The best?”
It was almost embarrassing to admit this. “You know, for you, dinner is such a small activity, but for someone who doesn’t venture out of the city that often, it was an adventure.”
“Whitney …” He reached forward, cupping my cheek. His mouth then moved closer, stopping inches away. I could taste him in the space between us. “I’ve wanted to do this since the bar.”
“That feels like a lifetime ago.”
Before I even took a breath, his lips were on me. When mine parted, the slowness of his tongue entered, the pressure of his hold opening me. I was inhaling his air, lost in his kiss. In his presence. In the sensations that were swirling through me.