by Ward, Kira
“Hello, Dr. Spence,” he said in a voice like melted caramel.
“Hi,” she returned, a little breathlessly. “You’re Jack, right?”
“Right.”
The music changed in that moment, from the pulsing rock that had been vibrating the walls to a more subtle, romantic tune that gave Jack the incentive to pull her tighter against his rock hard muscles. He smelled like warm sugar cookies, his soft t-shirt like the icing on an erotically tight cake. Melanie felt her nerves come to life as he ran his hand slowly up the length of her bare back as she rested her hands on the warm spot above the waist of his slacks.
“How long have you been a radiology tech?” she asked, feeling like she should say something before her fevered thoughts went too far to the wrong side of the professional/social line.
“Three years.”
“Did you always want to work in a medical setting?”
“No.”
Her eyebrows rose as she waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. She moved back just slightly so that she could see his eyes—a warm brown that reminded her of big, puppy eyes.
“What did you do before?”
A slow smile made his bottom lips swell a little right in the center, in that place she found herself imagining pulling between her teeth and nibbling on like it was the best tasting piece of toast she’d ever had.
“Do you want my resume?” he asked softly. “Or do you want to have a night of mind-numbing fun?”
Fun!
That should have been her first clue that something was wrong. But when a Roman god lookalike comes on that strong to a woman who hasn’t had a man in longer than she cared to admit, it would take a hammer to the head for her to realize she shouldn’t fall for his pretty smiles and hot, vodka flavored kisses.
He didn’t wait for her to answer his question. He just assumed. Granted, he assumed correctly, but Melanie didn’t even have a chance to think his question through before his lips were stealing hers, his hand slipping downward until he was tugging her close enough to him that they could hardly move in rhythm to the music any longer.
She didn’t object. She opened up to him, her own hand sliding up the length of his back and then down again, sliding over that perfect ass in a way she had imagined doing since the moment she first laid eyes on him.
She should have been more careful.
Somehow, they ended up out in front of Willis’ suburban house, falling into the back seat of his Ford Mustang, laughing at the tumbled way in which they fell. And then his hands were in her hair and he was tugging her up to his mouth, returning to the breath-stealing kisses that made her nerves tingle from her toes to her tender scalp. Her skirt was around her upper thighs, her hands tugging at the belt holding his heavy slacks in place. Another minute and she would have discovered whether the rumors about him were really true—whether or not he really was hung like a…
And then his cellphone began to ring.
She thought for a brief, fevered moment, that it was hers. She had several patients still on the floor, one of whom she half expected to have an emergency at some point. But then he shifted and tugged the offending device out of his hip pocket and made a sound kind of like the noise a sleeping intern makes when they realize they’ve missed rounds.
“I have to take this,” he said, brushing Melanie’s hands from his pants.
“Yeah, baby,” he said a second later into the phone, “I didn’t forget. Yes, I’ll bring home milk and diapers…anything else?”
It was worse than a bucket of cold water poured over the head. It was more like the shock of an electrocution.
Melanie had never moved quite as quickly as she did in that moment. She grabbed her shoes—which she’d kicked off as they climbed into the car—and climbed most unladylike over the side of the vehicle without bothering to look for some sort of mechanism to open a door, smoothing her skirt down over her thighs as she marched toward her own car.
“Hey!”
She just kept walking, hoping he’d get the message and let her go.
He didn’t.
Jack grabbed her arm and spun her around. “What are you doing? Are you some sort of cock tease, or something?”
“You’re seriously asking me that? Do you think I’m deaf?”
“What does that mean?”
She laughed, a sound that was more like a very unladylike snort. “I heard you on the phone. Are you married?”
“Yeah.”
He said it like he assumed she had known or didn’t see why it would be an issue. Melanie just shook her head and turned away, again headed toward her car.
“Fine,” he called after her. “Your loss.”
She laughed again, but this time there was a little more humor in it. If she couldn’t laugh at herself and her own screwed-up life, she’d go absolutely insane.
***
Melanie went home and showered for a long time, scrubbing every inch of flesh that man had touched and every inch he might have touched if his poor, oblivious wife—she preferred to think the wife was oblivious, but for all she knew, they both screwed around like it was some sort of game or something—hadn’t called. When she finally felt clean enough to climb out, she indulged in her favorite lotion and curled up in her favorite cashmere bathrobe. She looked through the shows recorded on her DVR, but couldn’t find anything that seemed to fit her mood. Maybe she’d be better off just crawling into bed with a good book.
She was about to get up when her cellphone chirped. A new email had just arrived. Curiosity got the better of her and she opened the application. When she saw the name of the dating service on the sender line, she considered deleting the email without reading it. But really, how could reading a short note from some guy a dating service set her up with be any worse than what had happened to her tonight?
She opened the email and glanced at the name of the sender. Nash. He was one of the two who were local to her area, one of only two of the five that she had considered even a possibility. An interesting coincidence, right?
And then she read the body of the email:
Dear Melanie:
I have no idea what to say. I know absolutely nothing about you except for the fact that some algorithm that was probably designed by a fifteen year old kid says that we would be a good romantic match. I don’t even know why I joined this service, other than the fact that my luck with women in the real world has been less than satisfactory lately. It’s not that I can’t get dates, it’s just that I have a hard time meeting women who want to get to know me…the real me. Does that make sense? So, anyway, I joined this service and I’m paying them to find me a woman who’s willing to talk a little before we meet in the real world, so the least I figured I could do was email one who caught my attention. And, guess what? You’re that lucky one. So, if you’re interested, I’d likely respond to your response.
It was signed simply: Nash.
Melanie read it a second time, not really ready to admit that he seemed…great. He felt the same way she did about the service. And he seemed as weary about the idea that it would work as she. Yet, he was reaching out to her. So, who was she to ignore that attempt?
Melanie pulled out her laptop and composed a response. She ended up editing it to death and having to rewrite it more than once. But she finally settled on a short note that she hoped didn’t sound completely snobby and self-absorbed.
Dear Nash,
Your email made complete sense to me. I am a super-busy professional woman who’s had a lot of difficulty finding a man who either, 1) understands my commitment to my work, or 2) is after more than just a physical relationship. I joined this service as a sort of cry for help, I think, but I don’t really expect anything earth shattering to come out of it. But like you, I paid for it, so I figure I should give it a try. I just got my list of matches today and have yet to look closely at them. I guess the next thing I should do is look at your profile. Will I be surprised by anything I find there? I certainly hope not…You aren�
��t married, are you?
Melanie.
She hesitated before she pressed the send button, but he wasn’t sure what caused the reluctance. It wasn’t like there was anything embarrassing in the note. But reaching out to someone she didn’t know seemed dangerous somehow.
Then again, it couldn’t be more dangerous than making out with a married man in front of a large group of her co-workers.
She pulled up the dating services’ webpage and logged in. Her matches were displayed on her dashboard with a hyperlink to each of their profiles. Melanie clicked on Nash’s profile and was surprised to discover that he didn’t have a picture displayed. That was something of a concern. Why wouldn’t he put up a picture? Everyone knew how to take a selfie. It wasn’t like it was that hard to come across something flattering he could put up. Instead, he uploaded a picture of a beach—she thought it might be somewhere off the coast of California—with the sun going down in a big, bright ball of orange and red in the background.
The rest was pretty straightforward. He listed his profession as CEO of the family business, which suggested he was close to his parents and/or siblings, a plus in Melanie’s mind, and his romantic situation as single, never married. Melanie had suggested in her profile that she would be open to dating a divorced man, but the idea no longer seemed like a good one after what had happened tonight. He listed a half dozen of his favorite books, and Melanie was pleased to see that four out of six also appeared on her list. He didn’t write things like long walks in the rain under his favorite romantic dates. Instead, he had been more practical, listing a preference for a home cooked meal and a good movie. She just hoped he didn’t expect the woman to do all the cooking…that was one thing Melanie had never really mastered. She could repair a child’s heart valve, remove an appendix in seconds, or carve cancerous tumors out of the liver, but she couldn’t follow a recipe to save her life.
She was still reading through Nash’s short, but informative profile when a little icon at the bottom of the screen informed her that he had responded to her email.
Melanie—
No, I’m not married. Never got further than an engagement ring and the requisite picture-in-the-paper stage. And, no, I don’t think there’s anything in my profile that will surprise you. I was as detailed as I felt was necessary, but not so detailed that there wouldn’t be any room for us to get to know each other through emails. To that end, your profile suggests that you like to read but haven’t had time for it recently. Is that because of your work? Do you do other things in your free time? Do you like to hike? Or do you prefer indoor activities?
Nash
Melanie’s eyebrows rose at the mention of an engagement. She wondered who she was and what happened. Did they break up because they were young? Or was there something else? Was he unfaithful?
She really didn’t want to get involved with someone who had been unfaithful in the past. In her experience, that almost always led to unfaithfulness in the future. She had worked in a hospital setting long enough to see what long hours and professional stress could do to a marriage. If she was with a man who cheated under less provocation than that…
That wasn’t something she wanted.
It crossed her mind to just end the whole thing, but she liked some of things she saw on his profile. And she liked the no-nonsense tone of his emails. What would it hurt to just talk a little?
Nash—
I have a very busy career, so I don’t have a lot of free time…but, when I do, I like to watch TV or read a good book. Occasionally, I like to go hiking, especially in the company of good friends. In high school and college, there was a group of us who liked to go camping from time to time, but that was before I moved to Texas. I haven’t done much of that since then, though I think it would be nice to get back into it. My life recently has been centered on my career…I guess, maybe, I’m ready to step back and see what else life has to offer.
Melanie
He must have been waiting by his computer, because Nash’s next email came within minutes:
How long have you lived in Texas? Where did you live before that?
I like to camp, especially down in the hill country. My current favorite place to go is a place not far from Bandera. Unfortunately, the drought has had a detrimental impact on the area, but it’s still great for hiking and other pursuits.
Would you consider hiking a good first date?
Melanie smiled as she read that last line. He certainly was different from other men she’d dated the past five years or so. She liked that he asked questions, that he didn’t seem focused solely on himself. And he seemed interested in what she might like to do on a date. When was the last time a guy asked her where she wanted to go, or what she wanted to do?
She couldn’t remember.
I’ve lived in Texas for five years. Before that, I lived in California, starting in San Diego, a few years in Los Angeles, and then Palo Alto. What about you? Are you from Texas originally, or a transplant like me?
I haven’t had a chance to visit the hill country, but I’ve heard Austin is a beautiful place to visit. I’ve also heard there’s good camping down around San Antonio, but haven’t had a chance to go there, either. Goodness, I guess I haven’t had a chance to go much of anywhere!
I think a hiking trip would be an ideal first date…you’d be too busy to do much more than talk, and that is all a first date should be about.
Melanie hesitated before she pushed the send button on her comments. She was afraid of scaring the guy off by telling him too much about herself and her opinions, but then she couldn’t see the point of hiding anything. He would learn about her one way or the other eventually. Maybe if she laid it all out there to start with, neither of them would waste their time on something that wasn’t going to go anywhere.
He surprised her by coming right back with a response.
You’re really missing out, not visiting the Austin area. It’s gorgeous down there. And if you like music, the SXSW festival is worth every moment.
No, I’m not from Texas, either. I was born back east, but spent most of my childhood on the west coast. You lived in Palo Alto? Is it safe to assume you’re a Stanford alumni?
I think a hiking first date is perfect, in part for the same reasons you mentioned. And because I love nature, so if it doesn’t go well, I’m still doing something I love.
So…it’s getting late. If I haven’t scared you off, what do you think about having a conversation on the messenger service on the dating website? Maybe around eight tomorrow evening? If you show, great. If not…it was nice to meet you.
Melanie smiled as she read that last message. She liked his confidence, his enthusiasm, his intelligence. Amazing how much you could tell about a person from just a few words written on a computer screen! She felt like she knew more about this stranger than she knew about most of the people she worked with on a daily basis…Jack most especially.
Maybe dating websites weren’t all that bad.
She closed her computer and prepared for bed, excited about her romantic future for the first time in a long time.
Chapter 3
Melanie was still at the hospital the next day when eight o’clock rolled around. She had a patient who was having some issues that might require surgical intervention, so she couldn’t go home until the patient was stable. So, as much as she hated to, she settled down at the nurse’s station and turned on her personal laptop.
Nash’s personal icon appeared almost immediately at the bottom edge of the screen. She clicked on it and a messenger box opened.
“Good evening,” his message said.
Melanie smiled, thinking how old fashioned it was to say something like that. It was quirky, but a quirk she liked.
“How are you?” she responded.
“Still at the office. What about you?”
“Same.”
A smiley face emoticon appeared on the screen followed by, “I guess now we know why we’re both on this website.”
>
“I would say that’s a pretty good guess.”
Tanya walked up behind Melanie and reached over her to grab a pen.
“You okay, sweetie?” she asked.
“Yeah. Just talking to a friend.”
Tanya nodded, a soft smile on her lips. “Not Jack, I hope.”
Melanie’s cheeks immediately began to burn. No one had said anything to her all day about Willis’ party the night before. She had hoped that everyone was so busy with their own fun that they hadn’t noticed. Now she knew that wasn’t completely true.
“Not Jack.”
“I saw the two of you leave together—“
“We didn’t, actually. It turns out that Jack’s married.”
“No way!” Another nurse, who just happened to be passing the desk at that moment, cried out. “He is so hot! And I heard he made out with one of the doctors last night.”
Tanya pointed to Melanie, causing her to duck away, snatching up her computer as she did.
“Think I’ll go to the on-call room.”
“It’s okay, honey,” Tanya called after her. “Everyone’s wanted to do what you did last night…”
Melanie just kept walking.
It took her a moment to find an available space. The first on-call room she came to was occupied by five sleeping interns who were so exhausted that they didn’t notice they were sleeping practically on top of one another. Melanie could remember what those nights had been like, and was grateful they were in her past. She found another room, a small break room along the furthest corridor of the pediatric wing, not far from the NICU, and locked herself inside.
There were two messages from Nash. The first read, “What do you do for a living?” The second asked, “Did I lose you?”
“Still here,” she quickly typed as she got herself settled. “A little interruption. Sorry.”
“No problem. I was just answering a phone call myself.”
“Good. I mean, good that you had something…” She moved the cursor back and erased that message. It sounded pretty lame. “So, what do we talk about?” she asked instead.
