Chapter 6
CHAPTER 6
BEN
The days we learned we lost patients were always the most difficult. It was a part of the job I never got used to. The only thing that had gotten me through the day was knowing I’d see Heath at the end.
My shoulders relaxed as I entered A Whole Latte Love. I enjoyed the routine Heath and I had developed of spending a couple of afternoons each week chatting before his research and my crocheting. It was quickly becoming a highlight.
Heath’s eager smile triggered my own. I was starting to get sad with each granny square I finished because that was one square closer to losing my excuse to spend time with him.
If I wanted it to continue, I’d need to ask him out. If we’d met on an app, I wouldn’t have had an issue because we would’ve known we were both in the market for something, but meeting someone in the wild and putting yourself out there? That was complicated as hell.
I waved at Heath before approaching the counter. “Hey. How’s it going?”
The androgynous barista with the fuchsia hair and hollow plugs in their ears smiled easily. “Good, thanks. You?”
“Hanging in there.” I didn’t need to trauma dump on them.
“Your usual? The blueberry scones are fresh.”
I perked up. “Yes, please.” I reached into my bag to grab my wallet.
“He already got it.” The barista jerked their chin toward Heath.
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Heath look away and focus a bit too hard on his laptop. I bit the inside of my cheek. “That’s nice of him.”
“ Very nice of him.” They winked. “I’ll have your coffee right up.”
Minutes later, with my coffee and pastry in hand and my project bag over my shoulder, I made my way to the table. I couldn’t have stopped my grin if I wanted to. Being around Heath made me happy.
“Hey. Thanks again for treating me. You didn’t need to do that.”
Heath tucked a curl behind his ear. “I know, but I wanted to.” His smile softened. “Your text earlier said you’d be running late and had a hard day, so I wanted to do a little something.”
My eyes stung at his simple act of kindness. “I appreciate that.” I appreciate you.
Heath closed his laptop and pushed it to the side. “What happened today? Do you want to talk about it?”
I ripped off a corner of the warm scone and told him about the patient we’d lost. After I’d been rambling, I froze as a realization hit me.
“Oh god. I’m so sorry. You’re the last person I should be complaining to about this.” It was insensitive as hell of me to vent to Heath, of all people. My grief was nothing compared to the pain families experienced.
Heath placed his hand over mine and kept it there after a squeeze. His lips curved into a small smile. “Don’t apologize. It actually makes me feel better knowing the people who cared for my dad probably grieved his loss too.”
“I’m sure they did,” I said earnestly. “We hurt every time it happens, and we celebrate every time someone gets better like it’s our win too.” I brushed my thumb over his. “I have a feeling all the nurses probably loved your dad.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Only a great man could have raised someone like you.”
Heath’s smile bloomed as something warm spread across my chest.
“He had a favorite.”
I laughed. “They usually do.”
After catching my gaze with his, he glanced at the project bag. “How’s the blanket going?”
“I’ve made a lot of progress.” Embarrassingly, I hadn’t been working on it at home this week because I wanted to draw it out. I didn’t dare admit it to Heath though.
Heath’s brow furrowed. “What’s that look for?”
I blew out a breath and pulled back my hand. I was so comfortable with his touch that I’d forgotten he was still holding it. “Honestly? I’ll be sad when it’s finished. I like our meetings.”
He licked his lips. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
An idea I’d been toying with tumbled out of my mouth. “How about you making one of the squares?”
He immediately shook his head. “My uncle tried to teach me once, and I was terrible at it.”
“Weren’t you a kid?”
“Well, yes, but I’m not artistic or crafty. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”
That protest didn’t faze me one bit. “I’ve taught a lot of people how to do it, including men with zero experience working with yarn. People often get antsy when sitting for treatment. When they’re not readers, crocheting can help. I’ve got a good track record with teaching, and I’m confident I could show you.” I leaned forward. “Wouldn’t it be awesome to have a granny square you made among the ones your uncle created?”
“And the ones you made.”
My heart melted at his earnestness.
Heath studied his tea mug for a moment. “Okay. I’ll give it a try, but if I mess it up, I’ll need you to fix it.”
“Of course,” I agreed quickly.
“If you’re going to teach me how to crochet, I want to cook dinner for you. It’s only fair.”
That was even easier to agree to. “I’d love that. How about this weekend?” I’m not eager or anything.
“I’m free on Saturday.”
“It’s a date.” Feeling a trillion times better than I had ten minutes ago, I pulled a half-finished granny square from the bag. When I glanced up, I caught Heath smiling at his laptop. If I played my cards right, I might finally get that hug I’d dreamed about since first laying eyes on him. Or maybe even more.