Chapter 15
15
JARED
I knew we’d crossed a line in her lab the other night.
I knew it the moment I kissed her, the moment she kissed me back.
There was a fire burning between us that had to be extinguished.
But seeing her come out of the restroom wearing one of my button-down shirts and a pair of my sweats stretched tight around her ass and thighs made me want to cross that line again and again.
She was blushing, her cheeks a soft pink.
Fuck me, she was beautiful.
It took every ounce of self-control I had to pour her a glass of wine without saying exactly what was on my mind.
“Changed my mind about the tea,” I said.
“I know you Brits like it, but I think we could both really use a glass of wine.”
“Thanks,” she said, her voice soft as she took the glass from me.
“I was actually drinking some wine before Mother Nature had other ideas.”
“Then you’ll enjoy this,” I said.
She held it to her nose and softly inhaled.
I chuckled. “It’s a Bordeaux from a very good year. I wasn’t aware you knew your wine.”
“My grandfather,” she said, her voice tinged with nostalgia.
“He was French and worked at a vineyard in his early years. He taught me everything he knew about wine.” She took a sip, her eyes closing briefly as she savored it.
“This is lovely. He would have loved it.”
I watched her, the way she held the glass, the way her lips curved into a faint smile.
I was too aware of her presence, too aware of how close she was standing.
My shirt hung loosely on her frame, but it did nothing to hide the curves beneath.
She looked small and soft and entirely too tempting.
“Hungry?” I asked her.
She crinkled her nose like she was afraid to admit it.
“Me too,” I said.
I moved to the fridge, pulling out a block of aged cheddar, a wedge of brie, and a handful of green grapes.
Then I grabbed a box of crackers from the pantry.
“It’s not out of a vending machine but I hope this will be a decent substitute.”
I set everything on the counter and started slicing the cheese.
Amelia leaned against the counter beside me, sipping her wine and watching me work.
“You’re good at that,” she said.
“Just a bigger scalpel,” I said.
“Less chance of killing someone too. If I’m off a millimeter on the cheddar, it’s not life or death.”
She smiled, slowly nodding.
“This must be like a vacation.”
“It kind of is.” I quickly put everything on a plate.
“Let’s go sit down.”
I led her to the living room and together we sat on the couch.
I tried to keep the conversation light.
“So, what do you think of the house?” I asked, gesturing to the room around us.
She glanced around, her eyes wide with appreciation.
“It’s incredible. The view is breathtaking, even in the middle of a monsoon.”
I laughed, taking a sip of my wine.
“It’s one of the reasons I bought it. I needed a place to escape, and this felt like the perfect spot.”
She smiled, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass.
“It’s definitely that. I can’t imagine ever wanting to leave.”
I chuckled, leaning back against the cushions.
“Well, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need. The storm doesn’t look like it’s letting up anytime soon.”
She nodded.
“Thanks. I really appreciate it. Right here on the water, it just feels so exposed.”
“It takes a little getting used to. Florida is not for the faint of heart.”
We sat in silence for a moment, the sound of the rain filling the room.
I knew I was treading on thin ice, but I couldn’t help myself.
I wanted to know more about her—about the woman behind the brilliant mind.
The woman that spent all her time in the lab and pretended not to be scared by thunderstorms.
“Got a boyfriend back in England?” I asked her.
She laughed softly. “No.”
“Did I read you did a lot of traveling before you landed here?”
“I wouldn’t say a lot, but some,” she said.
“Man in every port?”
It was probably invasive, but I wasn’t known for being subtle.
“I don’t have time to date,” she said.
I raised an eyebrow, leaning toward her ever so slightly.
“No time for love, Dr. Pritchard? That’s a shame.”
She laughed, a self-deprecating sound that made me smile.
“I’m not exactly the dating type. Too much of a nerd, I guess. And not very pretty. I’m not the typical beauty queen.”
I stared at her, surprised to find myself scowling.
“What moron told you that?”
She shrugged, avoiding my gaze.
“No one had to tell me. It’s just… obvious. I have eyes. I went to university. I saw the women that were dating all the time. I don’t look like them. I didn’t act like them. And that’s okay. I really don’t mind.”
I shook my head.
“It’s not obvious. Not to me. You’re brilliant, Amelia. And you’re beautiful. Anyone who can’t see that needs to be one of my patients. Never compare yourself to anyone, especially those skinny, empty-headed women.”
She looked up at me, her eyes wide with surprise.
For a moment, she didn’t say anything, and I wondered if I’d gone too far.
But then she smiled, a small, genuine smile that made my heart skip a beat.
“Thanks,” she said softly.
“That’s really nice of you to say.”
I reached for a slice of cheese and popped it in my mouth, then chewed it quickly.
“It’s the truth.”
“I guess I don’t have to ask if you date a lot,” she said with a laugh.
“Your reputation precedes you.”
“For what it’s worth, I don’t date much either,” I said.
“Not as much as my reputation suggests.”
“Maybe dating is the wrong word.”
She reached for a cracker.
“Not wrong.” I grinned.
“I also don’t really have time for dating. My schedule is constantly shifting. Some surgeries can’t wait, and saving people always takes priority. That’s why casual works better for me.”
“Do you go out a lot?” she asked.
“Not dating, but I imagine you have a pretty large social network.”
“Actually, no,” I said.
“I tend to rub people the wrong way.”
She laughed.
“No. You? Really?”
“Thanks.” I took a sip of my wine, the rich flavor lingering on my tongue as I leaned back against the couch.
Amelia was sitting cross-legged beside me, looking completely at ease.
She was too perceptive, too good at reading people—something I wasn’t used to.
I was used to being around women that looked at me and saw the surface and nothing else but the money and the looks.
“I don’t really have many friends. Not close ones, anyway. Shawn. Clair, maybe. That’s sad, right?”
She tilted her head and studied me like a scientist studying a specimen.
“Really? I figured someone like you would be surrounded by people.”
“Well, they try.” I snorted.
“People tend to stick around until they realize I’m not exactly the warmest person. Or until I say something that pisses them off. Which happens more often than not. I don’t have a filter. I get frustrated quickly when people waste my time.”
Amelia smiled faintly.
“You’re not exactly Mr. Congeniality, are you?”
“No,” I admitted with a shrug.
“Never have been. I don’t have the patience for small talk or niceties. If I think something, I say it. And most people don’t like that.”
She chuckled softly.
“I’ve noticed.”
“It’s not that I don’t care,” I continued, surprising myself with how much I was willing to share.
“I just don’t see the point in pretending to be something I’m not. If people can’t handle me being direct, then they can leave. It’s less complicated that way.”
Amelia nodded slowly.
She was looking at me with an intensity that made me feel exposed.
“I understand that. But have you ever considered that maybe you use that directness as a shield? A way to keep people at a distance?”
I frowned.
“That’s presumptuous.”
“Is it?” She sipped her wine.
“I’ve met people like you before. Brilliant minds who find it easier to push others away than to let them in. It’s safer that way, isn’t it?”
“And what about you? You spend all your time in the lab, you don’t date, you moved across an ocean for a job. Are you really in a position to analyze me?”
She laughed, the sound warm and genuine.
“Touché. I suppose we’re both a bit broken, aren’t we?”
The thunder boomed outside, rattling the windows.
Amelia flinched slightly, her hand tightening around her wine glass.
I noticed but didn’t comment.
She didn’t offer much about her own life.
I could tell there was something she wasn’t saying, something she was holding back, but I didn’t push.
Not yet.
Something about Amelia made me want to keep talking.
“My brother’s kids are probably the only children I can stand for more than five minutes,” I said, reaching for another slice of cheese.
“They’re smart and honest, which is more than I can say for most adults. The older one, Emily, she’s nine and already building robots. The younger one’s obsessed with bugs.”
“You sound like a proud uncle.” Amelia smiled.
I nodded. “I am. I spoil them rotten whenever I see them. Buy the loud toys, fill them with sugar, then send them home. Unfortunately, my schedule keeps me pretty busy, and I can’t spend as much time with them as I would like. And my brother lets me know just how much it irritates him.”
She tucked her legs underneath her on the couch.
“There’s just never enough time.”
“I love those kids, but I don’t want any of my own,” I said.
“Never have. Some people are meant to be parents. I’m not one of them.”
I watched her face carefully, waiting for the reaction I usually got—disappointment, shock, the immediate mental calculation of whether I was worth pursuing if children weren’t on the table.
But Amelia’s expression didn’t change.
She just nodded thoughtfully.
I didn’t elaborate on why, but the truth was, it came down to trust. I didn’t trust myself to be the kind of father a kid deserved.
Not after everything that had happened.
The storm sounded like it was beginning to ease, the rain slowing to a gentle patter.
Amelia yawned, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.
I felt a pang of disappointment.
I didn’t want the night to end.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so comfortable with someone.
She seemed to understand me in a way other people didn’t.
“Do you want a blanket?” I asked.
“That would be nice. I haven’t slept well the last couple of days. I’m ready to pass out.”
I stood, grabbing a blanket from the back of the couch.
She took it, her fingers brushing against mine.
I felt a jolt of electricity at the contact.
She hesitated, her eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, I thought she might say something.
But then she looked away, her cheeks turning red.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you the other night,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
I froze. I knew I should apologize, tell her it was a mistake, but the truth was, I wasn’t sorry.
Not even a little bit.
Instead, I bit my tongue, forcing myself to stay calm.
“You’re an exceptional scientist, Amelia,” I said.
“The people who doubted you in the past are going to eat their words when you win a Nobel prize.”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“That’s not what I’m doing this for. I don’t need recognition or accolades.”
“Then why? Why did you go into this line of research?”
She hesitated, her expression thoughtful.
“It’s just always been a part of who I am.”
I didn’t understand what she meant.
“You can sleep in the guest room,” I offered.
“I’m good right here,” she said.
“I’m actually quite comfortable. This couch is divine.”
She nestled deeper into the blanket, pulling it up to her chin.
Her hair was slightly disheveled.
I hesitated for a moment.
“Goodnight. If you get scared, I’m right upstairs.”
“I’ll be fine, thank you. For everything.”
“You’re welcome.”