by Janice Lynn
Next time. Would he be on a date? Have some young woman with him who wasn’t so prickly, wasn’t so five years ago.
“Suit yourself.”
Their waitress came, took their order, then disappeared.
“Tell me, Emily, how did you end up in that bachelor/bachelorette auction? Even though it was for a great cause, I will admit, I was surprised to see your name.”
She bristled. “Why? Think no one would bid on me?”
“I bid on you.”
“It would have been better if you hadn’t.”
“Would you have agreed to dinner with me if not for the auction?”
“No.”
“Then it was best that I bid. Besides, your guy was ticking me off that he barely upped the bid each time someone bid.”
Yeah, there was that. Speaking of ticked off, Richard had not been happy that she’d canceled their plans that evening so that she could go out with Lucas. Actually, he’d been downright surly.
“That’s why you jumped the bid out of his ballpark? Because he was barely upping the amount?” She’d just been happy that Richard had kept bidding against the strangers who’d been bidding prior to Lucas putting an end to all other interest.
“You deserve someone who sees your worth, Emily.”
“Yes, I do, which doesn’t explain why you bid on me.” She immediately wished she could retract her words. She didn’t want to argue with Lucas. She wanted to make it through dinner and go home unscathed from spending time in his company.
“Ouch.”
“The truth often hurts.”
“True.” He took a sip from the glass of water the waitress had set on the table. “If I was completely honest, I’d admit that I didn’t know I was going to bid, until I actually did.”
He hadn’t meant to bid on her? She wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or worse that he had.
“Like I said, you shouldn’t have.” She unfolded her napkin and put the cloth in her lap. “All it’s done is cause problems.”
“How so?”
“Richard is my boyfriend. He isn’t thrilled at what you did. Nor is he thrilled that I’m out with you tonight.”
“He could have bid higher.” He took another drink of water.
“He could have,” she admitted, wondering why she was defending Richard. He could easily have afforded to bid higher and he should have. That he hadn’t irked her. Never would she have let another woman win a “date” with her man when she had the means to prevent it. “But Richard is way too practical to spend that much money on dinner with me. Why should he when he knows he gets to spend time with me for free?”
“You like practical?”
“I love practical,” she immediately answered. She did like practical. Impractical made her feel out of control and that was something she never wanted to be again.
Lucas coughed as if his water had lingered and gone down the wrong pipe. “You love that guy?”
She wanted to lie. She wanted to say she was madly in love with Richard. She wanted to be able to tell Lucas that, yes, she had moved on past him and given her heart to another.
Instead, she told the truth.
“Richard is a great guy.” Despite how surly he was over Lucas. Then again, Lucas was a handsome doctor; under different circumstances that didn’t involve a past relationship that had ended in divorce, Richard would have every right to be surly. Maybe she should tell him who Lucas really was. “We have a lot in common and I enjoy our relationship.”
At least, she had right up until Richard had let Lucas walk away with the winning bid without even putting up a fight. Now she found herself questioning everything.
Lucas’s gaze didn’t waver from hers. “But do you love him?”
Did she love him? Not in the way Lucas meant. Not in the way she’d loved him. She’d never let herself love that way again. She knew how much that kind of love hurt.
“I don’t think my feelings toward Richard are any of your business.”
“You don’t.” He leaned back against the booth seat and studied her. “You’re not in love with him.”
At first she thought he sounded smug with his claim, then she realized he was saying the words as much for himself as he was to her. Which had her wondering why. Why would Lucas care if she was in love with Richard? He hadn’t come to Children’s because of any lingering feelings for her. He’d come because he’d been given a medical director position that was his dream job.
“What do your parents think of him?”
“They like him.” Mostly. Part of her knew her parents were just glad she was out and dating, that she was rebuilding a life for herself. Plus, Richard was a pharmacist, a good man with a steady income, and he came from a similar background to Emily. They liked that about him. They liked that he wasn’t Lucas. They’d die if they knew she was out with him, that he’d come to work at Children’s. Her mother would be trying to get her to change jobs immediately. Her father would, dear Lord, her father would likely come after Lucas if he knew she was within ten feet of the man who’d broken his little girl’s heart.
“How about you?” she asked, wanting the conversation to turn away from her and Richard, to turn away from her parents and how they, probably rightly so, felt about Lucas. “Anyone special in your life?”
He shrugged. “I date from time to time but am currently not seeing anyone.”
“Maybe you’ll meet someone at Children’s and sweep her off her feet and live happily ever after.”
Why did the thought of him meeting someone and her having to watch that relationship blossom make her physically ill?
“I’m not looking to meet anyone, Emily. I’m at Children’s because of the career and research opportunities being there provide me. Nothing more.”
Nothing more. As in, she shouldn’t get any ideas he was there because of her. Ha. As if. She knew better than that. He’d expressed himself loud and clear on that one over five years ago. “What type of research opportunities?”
His eyes lighting, he told her about a new procedure he and a colleague had been developing to reduce intracranial pressure post head trauma. His passion for what he was doing, what he hoped to achieve, impressed Emily. Lucas loved what he did and wanted to make a difference in his patients’ lives. Darn him. She didn’t want to like anything about him, but she admired his passion.
“You couldn’t do that at where you were before?”
He shook his head. “Dr. Collins is still the medical director and shot me down every time I wanted to use the procedure.”
Dr. Collins. A grumpy old man who was so antiquated he must have come with the building. No wonder a progressive neurosurgeon like Lucas had sought other career opportunities.
“At Children’s you get to make the final call of whether or not the procedure takes place?”
“I’m just waiting for the right patient.”
“What’s the advantage over traditional procedures to decrease ICP?”
“It’s less invasive and less risk of post-surgical complications.” He explained the procedure and continued to do so after their meal arrived, pausing only to brag about how good the duck was.
Surprisingly, Emily found herself enjoying listening to Lucas.
“I didn’t know you were so interested in research.”
He shrugged. “It’s always been a dream.”
“I never knew that.”
“We didn’t talk about my school and work much.”
“We didn’t talk much about anything,” she reminded, more sarcasm than she’d meant coming out in her tone.
“That’s not how I remember things. At least, it wasn’t that way in the beginning. We’d spend hours just talking.”
La. La. La. La. She fought to keep memories from rushing in
to her head. Memories of lying in Lucas’s arms, naked, sated, and talking about anything and everything. Much easier to keep him at a distance if she only remembered the endless tears and screaming matches they’d battled through.
Seeming to realize that she was throwing up walls, he forked a piece of his duck, then held out the loaded utensil. “Here. Taste.”
She shook her head. “I know it’s good.”
“Humor me so I won’t feel guilty when I ask to try your salmon.”
She did not want him to feed her, nor did she want to feed him. “But I...”
“Emily, please.”
Please. The word on his lips undid a knot holding her emotions back. She leaned forward and took the bite he offered.
The sweet yet tart flavor of the apples next to the tender duck had Emily sighing. The salmon was her favorite, but the duck dish ran a close second.
“That’s good.”
His gaze dropped to her plate.
“Oh, all right.” She forked a piece of the flaky pink meat and proffered her fork.
His gaze locked with hers, his mouth closed around her utensil, then he smiled. A real smile that reached his eyes and was full of pleasure.
Emily fought to keep her eyes open, hating the weakness surging through her. She didn’t want to respond. Not in any way, shape or form.
But sharing his food, sharing her food, had her gulping.
“Amazing,” he agreed, and she assumed he meant the food and not the starburst of feelings shooting through her. Why, oh, why couldn’t she be immune to this man? She should be immune. He’d hurt her so badly, he shouldn’t have any control over her feelings anymore. Not any.
“This was a really bad idea.” She hadn’t meant to make the admission out loud.
“Why?”
“You’re my enemy.”
“Your enemy?” He shook his head. “That’s not who I am, nor how I see you, Emily.”
“How do you see me, Lucas?”
* * *
Lucas studied the one woman he’d given his name to and who had held more power over him than any other. His wife. Ex-wife, he corrected.
“I see you as the most beautiful woman on the inside and out that I’ve ever met.”
She was. If only her sadness hadn’t taken over their relationship. If only he’d been able to understand and help her through whatever had changed within her. Him. He’d been what had changed her. No wonder she’d jumped at the chance to leave.
Emily’s eyes closed and she shook her head. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Things like what?”
“Things you shouldn’t say to me.”
“Why shouldn’t I tell you how beautiful you are?”
“Because you quit making me feel beautiful long ago.”
Her words stunned him, shocked him, but maybe they shouldn’t have. He and Emily had fallen apart. He regretted that he’d played any role in her not seeing the beauty so evident in everything about her. “I am sorry, Emily.”
“I don’t want your pity. It was a long time ago.”
“I don’t pity you. I pity myself at what I lost.” His admission shocked him almost as much as hers had. He did regret that he hadn’t been able to make Emily happy. When he looked across the table at her, saw the depth of emotion in her eyes, heard the sincerity in her voice when she spoke, he was filled with longings for her laughter, for her to smile at him the way she used to, before they’d married.
“Can I interest you in dessert?” the waitress asked, filling up Lucas’s water glass.
Emily shook her head. “I’m full, but thank you.”
Lucas found himself wanting to order dessert just so he could prolong the meal, could prolong his time with Emily, but he declined, also.
“Thank you for dinner. Everything was delicious,” she told him so formally he cringed.
“You sound as if you’re done.”
“I am.”
“The night doesn’t have to end, Emily.” At her look of horror, he elaborated. “I didn’t mean we should have sex.”
Although, he didn’t find the idea nearly as horrific as she obviously did.
Because he still wanted her.
The realization was an earth-shattering one.
He still wanted Emily.
“Whatever you meant, my answer is no.”
“You aren’t curious about what I had in mind?”
She shook her head. “I just want this obligation over.”
Which put him in his place.
The waitress set their check on the table, and when Emily went to grab it, he beat her to the ticket.
“You’re not paying for our meal.”
“But the fund-raiser...”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re not paying.”
“But...”
“Emily, please don’t argue on this one. Just let me feel like a man by paying for my date’s dinner.”
“But I’m not really your date.”
“Sure you are. That’s what I won. A date with a beautiful bachelorette to raise money for a great cause.”
She glanced down at where her hands rested in her lap, then shrugged. “Okay, if that’s what you want.”
What he wanted was Emily.
She was his ex-wife, not a woman he was trying to woo or get to know better. He already knew Emily better than any woman in his life. Only, he didn’t know her at all. Not anymore.
But he wanted to know her. Everything about her.
He finished his fresh glass of water, then nodded. “Yes, that’s what I want.”
When they’d split, he’d not been thinking clearly. He’d been spoiled, a kid still in many ways, focused on becoming a doctor, and when he’d had free time, he’d wanted to unwind, to hang with his fellow residents, his lifelong friends, to enjoy life and being young, not sitting inside the tiny apartment they’d called home and staring at the four walls. Or fighting, which was all they’d seemed able to do once they’d said I do.
What he should have been enjoying was Emily, but how could he do that when she’d cried almost nonstop, when he’d looked into her eyes and seen such horrific sadness that he hadn’t been able to stand it?
She’d once been so bubbly. Within minutes of meeting her during his residency program, he’d become enamored with the perky nurse who knew her stuff and had the most enchanting smile and big green eyes he’d ever encountered. He’d been intrigued, asked her to go for coffee, and, although he could tell she was similarly intrigued, she’d refused.
He’d asked again the next day. And the next. And the day after that, too, even when he hadn’t been working.
That day she’d said yes for the following day, if he was available. Although he’d had to do some major shuffling, he’d made himself available.
Over coffee they’d talked, laughed, ended up going for a walk in Central Park, and coffee had turned into dinner. She’d told him she’d said no not because she wasn’t attracted to him, but because she’d just started at the hospital a few months before and really wasn’t interested in becoming involved with someone who also worked at the hospital. When it had come time to tell her good-night, their kiss had been intense. He hadn’t wanted to go, but she wouldn’t let him stay.
Over the next few weeks, he’d spent every spare moment with her and quite a few he hadn’t had to spare. The demands of his residency program, his family obligations and wanting to be with Emily nonstop started taking their toll. He pretty much gave up sleep, felt exhausted more often than not and knew he couldn’t keep burning his candle at both ends. He’d thought if they married, it would ease the strain on several counts.
He’d been wrong.
She’d been trying to be the wife she’d thought she should be, but s
he hadn’t connected with his family or his lifestyle, had insisted she live within her means instead. With each day that had passed, her smiles had become less and less frequent until they’d completely been replaced by tears.
He’d kept telling himself it would get better once he finished his residency, that he just had to bide his time.
Then she’d started talking about wanting a baby.
They’d been married less than a year. She would burst into tears within minutes of seeing him. He was in a medical school residency program. All they’d done was fight and have makeup sex. He’d talked with his parents and they’d accused Emily of being a gold digger, of trying to tie herself to his inheritance forever by having a baby. He hadn’t believed them, not really. If Emily had been after money, why would she have insisted they live in her tiny apartment? To live within her income rather than the lavish lifestyle his trust could have provided? If his money was what she’d wanted, why was she so sad all the time? Because he’d have given her anything. He’d tried, had wanted to, but no matter what he’d done, it had been wrong. Being married to him had clinically depressed Emily. Not that she would admit it or agree to get help. How was that supposed to make a man feel? That being his wife made her ill?
He’d found himself backing away from their relationship. He’d barely been able to find time for the things he’d had to do, she’d cried all the time, and she’d been thinking about throwing an innocent baby into the mix?
If he’d been with Emily, he’d wanted her and had feared that she might end up pregnant on purpose. He’d started spending more time at the hospital, doing research, spending time with his parents, especially his mother, who’d been reeling from losing her mother a few months into his marriage to Emily, spending time with his friends, anything and anywhere to where he and Emily hadn’t been alone, to where they couldn’t have been intimate.
At first she’d gone with him to the things she could, had tried to keep up with his crazy, fast-paced schedule. Eventually, she’d quit, opting to go home. And do what? He really didn’t know. Just that the emotional rift between them had kept dividing until it had reached mammoth proportions over just a few months.
