After The Fire (One Pass Away Book 3) (6 page)

How did he know? Because like his life, Violet’s was right
there for him to see—documented in vivid color.

There were times when Gaige cursed the internet. He wasn’t
allowed to speak with her. Or touch her. But he could see her anytime his heart
desired. Pleasure and pain.

Violet’s eyes were blue. And her smile hadn’t changed. That
beautiful smile that haunted his dreams.

Gaige scrubbed a hand over his face. Damn it. He felt like
an untried kid—hesitant and unsure of his next move. Fuck that. He
straightened, shoulders back. She had come to him. Her choice.

Her choice
. It always had been. After all this time,
Violet had chosen to visit him on his turf. He didn’t know why she was here, or
what she wanted. But he sure as hell would find out.

“I EXPECTED RAIN.” Violet followed her guide down the hall. “When
I stepped out of the airport, I was greeted with bright sunshine.”

Calvin Peterson nodded. “Seattle will do that to you. She
likes to put her best foot forward, lulling you into a false sense of security.
Then,
boom
. Two straight weeks of drizzle. But that’s fall and winter.
And spring. Summer is gorgeous.”

“You sound like you love it here.”

“When I was eighteen, I moved here from Arizona. I had a
scholarship to the University of Washington. I grew up surrounded by desert. I
was here less than a week, and I knew I would spend the rest of my life by the
water.”

“What a lovely way of putting it.”

“Calvin has the soul of a poet, Dr. Reed. And the taste buds
of a five-year-old.” A smartly dressed redhead held out her hand. “I’m Marsha
Weinstein. I’m the numbers cruncher.”

Violet shook the woman’s hand. Marsha was pretty, with
wide-set brown eyes and a friendly smile. She guessed they were close to the
same age.

“Then you’re the real brains of the operation.”

“Oh, I like you,” Marsha laughed.

“Big man in the building,” an excited disembodied voice
called out from inside one of the open office doors.

“Get over it, Link,” Calvin called out. He turned to Violet.
“Link has worked here for three years, yet he acts like a kid when Gaige is
around.”

Violet knew this moment would come. But she hadn’t expected
it quite yet. They were supposed to meet at dinner. She planned on taking a
long shower and spending time getting her makeup just right. She had imagined
Gaige’s reaction when he saw her in the new dress she carefully hung in her
hotel room closet. Blue. It brought out the color of her eyes.

She desperately wanted him to notice her eyes.

“Don’t be nervous.” Marsha noticed the way Violet’s hands
clutched her purse. “Gaige Benson might look like he stepped from the heavens,
but he’s a sweetheart.”

“Now who’s the poet,” Calvin snorted. “
Stepped from the
heavens
. Gaige will love that one.”

“Tell him and I’ll leak that you sleep under Seattle Knight
sheets.
And
matching blankie.”

“If you do, I’ll spill the beans on how you found out.”

That shut Marsha up. When she glared at Calvin, his neck
turned red, the color spreading up and over his face.

“I’m sorry, Marsha.”

“I’m sorry.” Marsha didn’t direct the apology toward Calvin.
“Dr. Reed, you must think you’re dealing with a bunch of high schoolers. I
assure you, most of the time we conduct ourselves with the utmost
professionalism. Gaige wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Violet swallowed her nerves long enough to reassure Marsha.

“I work in a hospital. The things that go on there would
make the doctors on
Grey’s Anatomy
blush.”

“Really?” Marsha’s eyes sparked with interest. “Like what?”

“Marsha!” Calvin gave her a long, meaningful look.

“Oops. Sorry again.”

Violet gave Marsha a vague smile, her thoughts on her
imminent meeting with Gaige. Stay or run? Would a few hours make that much
difference? She looked down at her casual flats and neat but unexciting beige
linen pants and dark brown jacket. Vanity—and a major case of nerves—won out

“Would you mind if I cut this short? I have a bit of a
headache.” The oldest excuse in the book. Violet hated using it, but desperate
times and all that.

“I’m sorry.” Marsha looked genuinely concerned. “Would you
like me to tell Gaige you can’t make it tonight?

“No!”
Did that sound as desperate as she thought
?
Violet took a deep breath and toned it down. “I’ll take a few aspirin and a hot
shower. By seven o’clock I’ll be good to go.”

At least Violet hoped she would be ready. She knew how she
wanted to look. Knew exactly what she wanted to say. She had rehearsed it in
her head a thousand times. Her first meeting with Gaige. The first time she
would look into his eyes.

Would she know right away? Her feelings were a jumble. Would
Gaige’s expression tell her anything about his? Violet knew it was crazy to pin
her hopes on one moment. She had so much more information than Gaige did. It
wasn’t fair to expect anything from him—not right away. But please, Violet mentally
crossed her fingers, she dreaded the idea of seeing indifference in his gaze.
Anger she could deal with. A spark of interest would quiet the butterflies in
her stomach.

But if he simply didn’t care? That would be the cruelest
blow of all.

“IS DR. REED on her way?”

“She left.”

“Seattle?” Gaige looked at his watch. How long was he
in
the bathroom?

“What?” Terrance gave him a strange look. “Of course not.
According to Wendy, Dr. Reed had a slight headache and went back to her hotel
room.”

Gaige felt a wave of dueling emotions. Relief and
disappointment. Then a touch of anger. Was she playing with him?

“Did she know I was in the building?”

“I don’t know. Does it matter?”

“Maybe. I don’t know yet.”

“What the hell is going on, Gaige?” Terrance crossed his arms.
He waited, his silence a tool to draw out the truth. It had worked on more than
one occasion, but not today.

“Is dinner still on?”

Terrance’s eyes narrowed, but when Gaige didn’t budge, he
sighed, relaxing his stance.

“I told her you would meet her at the hotel bar. Seven
sharp. And Gaige,” Terrance added as he was walking out of the office.

“Yes?”

“Whatever your problem is with Dr. Reed? Keep it to
yourself. We want her to accept our offer. Don’t scare her off.” For good
measure, he added, “And for Christ’s sake, don’t sleep with her.”

Gaige took the elevator to the lobby.
Scare Violet off
?
He was the one with jittery hands. He used the remote to unlock his car, then
sat staring sightlessly out the window.

Don’t sleep with her
.

Gaige groaned. He wasn’t used to self-denial. If he wanted a
woman—and the feeling was mutual—he acted on his desire. The last time he hadn’t
was with Violet. They held hands—that was it. Not even a kiss. It was doubtful
that would change.

In all likelihood, Violet was in Seattle because she was
intrigued by Terrance’s offer. She was a highly respected doctor. From what he
read, she was dedicated to her work. Only a fool would let a blip from the past
get in the way of such an amazing opportunity. His foundation was willing to
write her what amounted to a blank check. Stem cell research was still in its
infancy, and they were offering her a chance to be at the forefront of pushing
it to the next level—and beyond.

They would meet for dinner. Spend a few minutes clearing the
air, and move on.
He
would move on. It was clear that Violet had a long
time ago.

If—for old time’s sake—she asked him to sleep with her? If
she wanted to take care of an old itch—just once? Would he do it? Gaige wasn’t
proud of the answer, but he knew himself too well. Sex with Violet Reed? Hell
yes. He had fantasized about it for years. Only a fool would turn down the
chance to be with the one woman he had never been able to forget.

Gaige was many things—not all of them good. But he was not
now, nor had he ever been, a fool.

“WHITE WINE, PLEASE. Something dry.”

Violet smiled at the bartender. The crowd was small. In
truth, calling it a crowd would be an exaggeration. Half a dozen people nursing
their drinks on a Monday evening. The woman behind the bar—Karla, according to
her nametag—was quick and efficient. And if Violet wasn’t mistaken, bored out
of her mind.

“This is a local Sauvignon Blanc.” Karla set the glass in
front of Violet. “It’s new, at least here at the bar. I would love to know what
you think.”

Taking a sip, Violet let the liquid rest on her tongue
before swirling around her mouth. Her ex-husband had been a wine snob,
insisting that Violet learn the proper way to appreciate what she was drinking.
The marriage hadn’t lasted, but Monty
had
made one lasting contribution
to her life. She knew when a vintage was good, bad, or in this case, fantastic.

“It’s wonderful.” Violet took another sip, savoring the
crisp, fruity flavor. “You say it’s made by a local winery?”

Karla showed her the bottle. “Full disclosure? My boyfriend
owns Stellar Farms. He’s been at it ten years. His product has always been
good, but this one is his pride and joy.”

“I can see why. I would love to buy a few cases. Some for
myself and some to give as gifts.”

“I just happen to keep his card handy.” Laughing, Karla
handed it to Violet.

“As any good girlfriend should.” Violet tucked it into her
wallet. Since Karla seemed inclined to talk, she asked, “Are you from the area?”

“Born and raised. Though I originated on the other side of
the state. I moved to Seattle about five years ago.”

“To be near your boyfriend?”

Karla nodded. The slender blonde appeared to be in her late
twenties. Her dark eyes were expressive. At the moment, they were filled with
self-deprecating humor. “I’m the cliché that proves the rule—or something like
that. I met Dale at a weekend wedding in Spokane. On Monday, I was in the
passenger seat of his old Ford pickup. Crazy, huh?”

“A little. But also incredibly brave. You took a chance. It’s
been five years, so it must have been the right decision.”

“Sometimes he drives me crazy, but he’s the love of my life.
I can’t imagine my life without him.”

Violet wondered what that was like—to feel so strongly about
another person. She hadn’t loved Monty. She married him because they had
similar interests and because her mother kept going on and on about what a good
match he was. Violet sometimes wondered if she said yes just to get her mother
off her back.

It hadn’t been a solid reason. The marriage lasted three
drawn-out years. Violet had known before the honeymoon was over that she made a
mistake. But it was easier to stay married—at least at first. Monty was busy.
She was busier. They rarely saw each other. If he hadn’t decided to screw his
secretary—and get caught doing it by a big-mouth associate—she might still be
in the dead-end relationship. It spoke volumes when her reaction to her husband’s
infidelity wasn’t anger or sorrow, but extreme relief.

“Listen to me. I’m the bartender. It’s my job to ask you
questions, not the other way around.” Karla’s smile widened. “Are you in town
for business or pleasure?”

“Good question.” When Karla raised a questioning eyebrow,
Violet shrugged. “It’s a long story. And I know everyone says that, but trust
me, this one really is. Let’s leave it at I’m here on business, the rest is up
in the air.”

“Fair enough.” Karla let out a low wolf whistle. “If I were
to ever to cheat on Dale—and trust me, I wouldn’t. But there is the man who
would make it damn hard to say no.”

Violet swiveled her barstool to face in the direction of
Karla’s gaze. She wasn’t surprised to see Gaige standing at the entrance.

“Gaige Benson. Sex on a tall, gorgeous stick. Dale might
understand if that guy lured me off the rails. My fella has a major man-crush.”
Karla sighed. “Can you blame him?”

Violet had no arguments. Or words.

She had returned to the hotel, tail tucked firmly between
her legs. She felt like an idiot for running, but there it was. Rather than
brood about her cowardice, she spent her time wisely—getting ready for her
dinner with Gaige.

The hotel was luxurious, filled with every amenity
imaginable—a fact of which Violet took full advantage. She had booked a massage
as soon as she checked in, and was grateful for the forethought. Her masseuse
knew exactly how to work the tight muscles, working closely on her shoulders.
Magic fingers. By the end of the hour, Violet felt loose and relaxed.

A long, hot shower followed by an hour of pampering herself.
Lightly scented lotion smoothed over her skin, a routine she followed daily.
But she didn’t usually spend as much time on her hair and makeup.

Violet’s days were filled with consultations and hospital
rounds. Looking like she had stepped off the cover of
Vogue
wasn’t a
priority. Neat and professional. That was her goal. If her lipstick was eaten
off by eight o’clock, so be it. Her patients wanted a competent doctor—not a
fashion model.

Tonight was different—to put it mildly. For the first time
in a long time, Violet wanted to knock a man’s socks off. She knew what she had
to work with, and—ego aside—it was pretty damn good. Nice face. Good figure. A
little color added to her cheeks and eyes. And a dress that enticingly hugged
her curves. She felt confident. Sexy. And ready to take on Gaige Benson.

Then she saw him. Not a picture on the internet or an image
on the television. In the flesh. The speech she had so carefully rehearsed flew
from her head.
That is the most beautiful man I have ever seen
.

“Oh, my God. He’s coming over here.” Karla’s hand fluttered
around, straightening everything in sight. “Would it be weird if I asked for
his autograph? Dale will never believe it.”

Gaige didn’t hurry, giving Violet plenty of time take him
in. Long ago she had asked her mother what he looked like.
Tall. Blonde.
Handsome, I suppose
. Violet had pushed for more, but her mother’s
description had been vague.

Recently, Violet had voraciously filled in the details.
There was no shortage of pictures. She discovered what he looked like then—and
now. Nothing had prepared her for seeing him in person.

Tall. Blonde. Handsome. Her mother had nailed that part.
Gaige wore a perfectly tailored dark gray suit, crisp white shirt, and pale
lavender tie with ease. A different kind of uniform than the one he wore on the
football field, but it was just as effective. He commanded attention. Eyes
followed his every movement.

If her mother had tried, there was no way to convey charisma
or sex appeal. To understand, one had to experience it in person. Half a room
away, and she could feel it—and it grew with every step he took.

Gaige stopped in front of her. She took a deep breath. The
moment felt big. As though one look would change everything. All the
conversations. The hours of holding his hand—not needing to say a thing. For
the first time, Violet raised her gaze and met his.

GAIGE FELT LIKE someone punched him in the gut. Someone with a
small, delicate hand which made the shot he took to his ribs during Sunday’s
game feel like a love tap

Neither of them spoke. Sizing each other up, he supposed.
The silence lasted a few seconds—it felt longer. There was a time when they
talked endlessly. About everything—and nothing. Now, he struggled for a simple
greeting.

“Hi.”

That hadn’t come from Violet. Surprised, Gaige looked over
her shoulder. The bartender gave him a slow smile and wave.

“Gaige. Mr. Benson.” Karla giggled, tripping over her words.
“I’m sorry to bother you. Would you mind signing this for my boyfriend?” She
laughed again. “And me?”

“Sure.” Gaige accepted two coasters and a pen. And Gaige is
fine. What’s your boyfriend’s name, Karla?”

“Um. Jeez. I knew it just a second ago.”

“Dale,” Violet offered automatically. Gaige shot her a quick
look but kept writing.

“You know my name.” In a daze, Karla clutched the autographs
to her chest. “How?”

Gaige lightly tapped her nametag with the pen. The gesture
made Karla give a dreamy sigh. “Right.” She blinked, looking at Violet, then
back a Gaige. “This is… Sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Yet you know her boyfriend’s.” When Violet laughed, Gaige
could have kissed Karla. Unknowingly, the bartender had broken the ice. She had
just earned a tip. A big one.

“Funny how that works,” Violet answered.

Confused by the obvious undercurrents, Karla looked at
Violet, then Gaige, then back at Violet.

“Do you know each other?”

“Do we?”

Violet shook her head, making his heart sink.

“No.” Violet shook her head, making his heart sink. “But I’d
like to. If that’s okay with you.”

“That’s the best offer I’ve had in a long time.” Gaige’s
eyes warmed, smiling when he heard Violet let out the breath he hadn’t realized
she was holding. “I was supposed to meet someone for a business dinner. If you
agree to join me, I’ll cancel my previous plans.”

“Interesting.” Violet slid from her seat. In heels, the top
of her head reached his chin. “I’m meeting someone.”

“Business?”

“Not anymore.”

“Shall we?” As Violet started across the room, Gaige set a
few bills on the bar, sliding them toward Karla. “Thank you.”

Confused, but thoroughly entertained, Karla watched Violet
and Gaige until they were out of sight. Shaking her head, she picked up the
money. When she took a closer look, her eyes widened. She grabbed her phone and
dialed the first number on her contacts list.

“Hey, honey. What’s up?”

“Dale? Are you sitting down? Well, put your sweet ass in a
chair.” Karla looked at the three hundred-dollar bills she clutched in her
hand. “You will never guess what just happened to me.”

TERRANCE HAD MADE the reservations, and Gaige approved. The
hotel’s restaurant was one of the best in the city. The menu was varied, and
the specials changed on a nightly basis. He loved the lobster bisque and shrimp
scampi, but if seafood wasn’t your thing, they served a steak that would make
the angels weep.

Another reason he liked to eat here was the wait staff didn’t
fawn all over him. Either they weren’t football fans, or they were trained to
keep that,
oh,
my God, oh, my God
, thing out of their expressions
and their voices. Violet and he were seated without any fanfare.

Terrance would have requested a window seat, out of the flow
of traffic. That was exactly what they got. The waiter took their drink orders,
informed them of the specials, then faded away to let them decide what to
order.

“I know we agreed to put business aside, but…”

“Why don’t we play it by ear.” Violet set down her menu. “I’m
having the baked halibut.”

“Steak. I love the way this place does shellfish, but I’m in
the mood for red meat.”

Violet laughed.

“Steak is funny?”

“There is so much to say.
I
have so much I want to
say. But I can only think of one thing?”

“What?”

“Your eyes are green.”

“And yours are blue.” Gaige couldn’t look away—he didn’t
want to. “So damn blue.”

Before they could say more, the waiter arrived to take their
order.

“That steak sounds good,” Violet hedged.

“I’ll give you a bite.”

“Or two?”

Gaige nodded. “If you’ll share your halibut.”

“Deal.”

Gaige handed the waiter their menus. The silence that
settled over them didn’t feel awkward. More like they were choosing their words
carefully before they spoke.

“Do you mind if I call an audible?”

Violet gave him a blank look.

“That’s football lingo, right?” She covered her face with
her hands. She peeked between her fingers. “This is embarrassing. I feel like I
should know more about it. That it’s one of those things that should have
seeped in by osmosis. But I’m woefully ignorant.”

“There’s no need to be embarrassed. I’m the one with the
problem. Normal people don’t use terms like audible in everyday conversations.”

“I don’t mind,” Violet assured him. He could hear the
earnestness in her voice. “What does it mean?”

“During the game, if I don’t like the defensive formation, I
have the option of changing the play. I call out a different signal, alerting
my teammates.
That
is an audible.”

“Fascinating.”

“Really?”

“You sound surprised.”

Gaige thought for a moment, considering the best way to help
Violet understand. “Football, in general, is sexy. The hitting. The long passes
and spectacular catches.”

“The tight pants.”

Gaige caught the twinkle in Violet’s eyes and laughed.

“That, too. But the terminology can be a bit dry.”

“Try medical texts.
That
is dry. You can throw an
audible at me anytime.”

Anytime
. It made Gaige think of the future. Their
future. Anytime, anyplace. But he was getting ahead of himself.

“Then here it is. No talk about the past. Our past. Not
tonight.”

“Then when?” Violet asked.

“Tomorrow? The next day?” Gaige knew what he was asking, but
for some reason, he wanted one night before they picked at old wounds.

“I’m scheduled to leave tomorrow evening.”

“Stay.” When Violet hesitated, Gaige took it as a good sign.
“We have a game on Thursday. The short week means I’ll be busy at practice and
in meetings. But my evenings will be free.”

“Let’s get through tonight.”

Gaige wanted a commitment.
Jesus
. What was wrong with
him? All he could think about was pushing Violet until she agreed to stay. If
she left town, would he ever see her again? It was as though his brain couldn’t
grasp any other scenario. The second she got on that plane for New York, his
chances with her were over. Logically, he knew it wasn’t true. But his emotions
overrode common sense.