CHAPTER TEN
“I can see why you call this exercise!” I’m going to have to stretch my arms and shoulders beforehand if Jake ever asks me to help him walk his dogs again.
I have Romulus while he’s walking Remus, and they’re both extremely strong and full of energy.
I sorta want to recommend whoever Matt used to train Phoebe though. They’re not so cool with being told what to do. Or that they need to stop pulling so darn much. Maybe it doesn’t matter to Jake since he’s basically superhuman, but little old me is getting yanked all over the place.
He finally takes pity on me when we’re a few blocks from his apartment. “Let me,” he offers, holding out his free hand. “You’ll dislocate your shoulder and end up in the hospital again.”
I’m not too proud to gladly hand the leash over. “Thanks. I didn’t know whether I should say something or not. I don’t want you thinking I’m a weakling.”
“I would never.” He grins.
Good thing he took the leash because I feel weak all over when he shoots me a look like that.
“I’m so glad you have the afternoon off,” I observe, and what an afternoon.
It’s absolutely dazzling outside, zero humidity and a fresh breeze blowing away any staleness.
The sort of day a person wants to spend completely outside if they can.
I’ve already decided to do some writing on the roof of my building later on since the thought of being cooped up inside to do my work makes my heart sink.
“Me too. It means I get to spend a little time with you, Manhattan’s own Kitty Valentine.”
“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Hey, better that than the fact that you almost made me choke to death. Maybe I should avoid you out of self-preservation.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I shrug, giggling. “I’m sort of a disaster. Sometimes, it rubs off on the people around me.”
“I’ll take my chances,” he decides before throwing a protective arm in front of me, keeping me from crossing into a busy intersection. “The light hasn’t changed yet.”
No, it hasn’t. There I go, not paying attention, too busy soaking in the glorious man next to me. Having his arm against my chest is almost worth the possibility of getting hit by a car.
But not quite. I mean, it’s an impressive arm, but I would like the chance to feel the rest of him too. I can’t very well do that if I’m dead.
“Thanks.” I blush. “See? I warned you.”
“Looks like I have to keep a close eye on you.”
“Looks like you will.”
Oh, yes, he can keep as close an eye on me as he wants. I’m not in the market for a stalker, but some light voyeurism wouldn’t be out of the question if he plays his cards right.
Note to self: write a scene where the hero’s watching the heroine do something sexy.
“There’s something I have to ask you.” The light changes, and we continue on. At least the dogs knew well enough to stop at the corner.
He’s not smiling either. Terrific. He’s going to ask me something embarrassing, isn’t he?
Like where I get the inspiration for sex scenes, that sort of thing.
I should’ve known I got off too easy on our first date.
It’s inevitable. Everybody wants to know where a romance writer gets her inspiration.
It’s not the most terrible question in the world, but it always comes with a heavy dose of innuendo. And it seems that nine out of ten people who ask aren’t satisfied when I tell them the inspiration comes from my imagination, not real life.
The alternative would be to describe my recent porn viewing, and I can’t imagine that would go over well.
Then, he nudges me with a grin. “Did your grandmother ask about me when you had lunch with her?”
I can’t help but burst out laughing, the kind of laughter that makes me stop in my tracks until the worst of it passes. I find him chuckling when I’m finished.
“I guess that answers my question.” He laughs with me.
“Let’s just say, she wasn’t unhappy that I was having lunch with you,” I confess. “I guess she wouldn’t be a concerned grandmother if she wasn’t at least a little curious.”
“I had a feeling. After enough patients rotate their way through the ER, a person can spot that sort of curiosity a mile away. You know, mothers who wonder if I’m single, sisters who wonder if I have a twin brother.”
“I hope you weren’t offended.”
“Not at all!” he insists with his trademark good-natured attitude. “Life’s too short. I just thought it was funny, and I almost felt sorry for what I figured you were going to go through.”
“She means well, and she only wants the best for me.”
“Then, she and I have something in common.”
I can’t help but smile in a dorky, goofy kind of way. What can I say? He brings it out in me. “With my parents both being gone, she’s the only family I have.”
Yikes. Talk about a mood killer.
His face doesn’t fall; it practically crashes. “Oh, Kitty. I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
He looks so genuinely heartsick that I instantly feel sorry for saying it.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad!”
“I didn’t think you did. I never thought to ask. Then again, I guess we didn’t really talk much about family over lunch.”
“No, we didn’t.” I didn’t want to seem like I was digging for information. Or like, you know, that I was writing a book where the hero was a hunky doctor and I needed to get as much character background as I could manage.
“You’re an only child?”
I nod. “How about you?”
“I have a sister who lives in Atlanta. Her husband works there. They have two boys—twins, five years old. I wish I could get down there more to spend time with them.”
“I bet you’re a fun uncle.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
“Look at how playful you are with the dogs. And there’s a sense of … I don’t know.” I tap my chin, squinting my eyes as I look up at him. “You have this fun energy to you. Like nothing really gets you down or stressed out. Of course, I could be completely wrong.”
“I think you’re pretty insightful. Does that come from being a writer? You have to observe people and imagine what their lives are like?”
“I’ve never thought about it that way, but I guess you’re right.”
We turn the corner, coming to the dog park at Madison Square.
With it being such a nice day, at least a dozen pooches are already running around like crazy and sniffing each other’s butts and basically acting like the animals they are.
Jake lets his dogs off their leashes, and we watch as they meet up with their friends.
I can tell my comment made him think, and a moment later, he explains why he got so thoughtful, “I wasn’t always this way. You know, like you said. Easygoing. Playful, which is a word I would never have thought to use for myself.”
“I hope you don’t take it as an insult.”
“Not even close!” He touches my shoulder, sending a shiver down my spine. “In fact, it’s nice to hear. I’ve tried really hard to adapt to a better lifestyle, I guess you could say.”
“Is it prying for me to ask, why? I mean, what brought that on?” And please, can you keep touching me? Of course, I would never ask that, but the impulse is there.
“I had a little bit of a scare a few years ago.” He taps his chest. “I thought I was dying.”
“My gosh, what happened?”
“It was a panic attack, though it felt like a heart attack to me. It’s one thing to know in here that you’re not having a heart attack.
” He taps his temple. “It’s another thing to actually feel something happening to yourself, you know?
I thought I was dying. I thought I was literally experiencing my last moments.
That’s not the sort of thing you forget. ”
“I am so sorry.”
“I’m not. Don’t get me wrong,” he adds with a wry chuckle. “It sucked. But it gave me perspective, and it forced me to make changes to my life. It all starts up here.” Once again, he taps his head.
Then, he claps his hands hard. “Remus, stop that!”
I turn in time to see Remus following a cocker spaniel around, insisting on sniffing her when she’s clearly not into it. At the sound of Jake’s voice, he gives up and sulks away.
“So, you decided to change things up?” I ask.
“Yeah, I did. When I stepped back and took a look at my life, I realized all I did was work. Mind you, I was coming off my residency, which isn’t exactly a walk in the park. No pun intended,” he adds, looking around us.
“What did you do?”
“I started taking care of myself. I work out a lot more than I used to, and make sure I keep to the routine. Otherwise, I try to have fun whenever I can. Even at work, which I think sometimes rubs certain people the wrong way. Like I’m not being professional enough, which couldn’t be further from the truth.
I take my patients very seriously, but I also believe that laughter and a positive attitude are just as helpful in healing, if not more so. ”
“Of course, they totally are.”
He looks around the park, hands on his slim hips. “Three years ago, I would never have stood here, watching dogs play in the park. I was too busy. Life was too rigid. I hate to think of everything I missed out on.”
“But just think of everything you’ve accomplished,” I counter. “You came through all that difficult stuff, and now, you can enjoy your life a little more. That’s a victory—at least, it seems that way to me.”
His smile is genuine, and the hand he touches to my lower back is firm but gentle. “Thank you for that. Not everybody gets it the way you do.”
“Those sourpusses at work, you mean?”
He snickers. “Yes, and other people. My ex, for one.”
I should’ve known. Eventually, the ex always comes into the conversation.
“She’s a surgeon in the same hospital,” he explains. “Now that I’m down in the ER, we don’t see a lot of each other there. Talk about good luck.”
Terrific. How do I navigate this?
“Has it been a long time since you two broke up?”
“Oh, yeah. For almost a year. Trust me, I dodged a bullet with that one.” There’s bitterness in his voice, even in the way he sets his jaw. “See, I trained to be a surgeon too. She had our entire career trajectory planned out.” I chuckle. “I’m serious,” he adds.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you.”
He shrugs. “Anyway, when I told her I wanted to back away from surgery because the stress was getting to be too much for me, she flipped. Called me just about every name in the book, made sure I knew how disappointed she was in me. Blah, blah, blah.” He touches his thumb to the tips of his other fingers, mimicking a mouth opening and closing.
I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry that happened. That she couldn’t be more supportive.” Darn it, would he mind if I squeezed a little bit? I just have to know how firm this muscle is …
He looks down at me and smiles. “It’s for the best. Look who I’m out with right now. This wouldn’t have happened if I were still with her—and I can imagine how stressed and miserable my life would be too.”
The look in his eyes changes, and all of a sudden, I know what’s about to happen. And there’s no way in the world I’m about to do anything to stop him as he leans down, catching my chin between his thumb and forefinger, his mouth parting to let a sigh escape as his eyes dart down to my lips.
Just the slightest upward strain on my part as I try to meet his lips with mine is the green light he’s been waiting for, and he kisses me right there in front of everyone.
Including the dogs. I’m still holding on to his shoulder, and now, I give myself permission to take an exploratory squeeze while his tongue glides over my lips.
Dear Lord, he’s exquisite, making me wish we were someplace a little more private.
Especially when he jumps in surprise, looking down at his leg to find a terrier humping like mad. I can’t help but laugh, though I at least cover my mouth with my hand while the dog’s owner runs over and apologizes frantically.
“Just my animal magnetism.” Jake shrugs with a sheepish grin.
“Will you come to my grandmother’s birthday party with me?” I blurt out. Right, because this is the perfect time for me to ask such an important question.
Timing has never been my strong suit.