In Another Life (2 page)

As luck would have it, there was another can sitting on the curb. The townhouse next to mine had been empty for months, and because the “For Sale” sign was still out front, I hadn’t realized anybody had moved in. Grateful for the availability of a clue, I opened the lid on the neighbor’s can, hoping the absence or presence of trash would verify whether I should leave my can where it was or drag it to the other side of the street.

Good news: my neighbor’s can was full, so I was set as far as trash collection was concerned.

Bad news: as I was looking into the trash can, I heard a coughing sound and saw movement out of the corner of my eye. I glanced up, and there, on his front porch, was my new neighbor. At least I assumed he was my new neighbor, because he was standing right by the front door with a cigarette in one hand and his phone in the other. And he was watching my classy trash-picking display with his jaw hanging open.

Did I mention that I recognized this particular neighbor?

“Uh, Travis, hi!” I said, sounding way too loud and high-pitched. The lid slipped from my fingers and banged shut. I flinched and then started walking toward my door, trying to keep my pace not too fast but not too slow.
Nothing to see here, folks. Just a guy going for a walk. Wearing a robe and slippers.
“How’ve you been?”

Making small talk in that particular situation would have been awkward no matter what. I mean, the man had blown me off and then caught me digging through his trash. Transitioning smoothly to a discussion about his well-being took more social skills than I had at my disposal that early in the morning.

But then things went from bad to worse when I reached my front step, tripped over my Scooby-Doo slippers, and grabbed onto the post in front of my house to steady myself. As it turned out, my robe wasn’t tied securely enough to withstand that kind of limb extension, which I realized when it flopped open. I jerked my head up and stared at Travis, trying to think of what I could say to salvage some portion of my dignity.

“Wow,” he said as he ground his cigarette into a bowl on the porch railing and flicked his gaze up and down my body. “You’re wearing three different cartoon characters right now, which is particularly amazing seeing as how you’re barely dressed.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” I snapped. Because apparently, my humiliation wasn’t complete enough, and I wanted to add desperate and whiny to my list of attributes, right after trash-obsessed, well-dressed, and impeccably groomed.

“I was actually doing that very thing just now.” He cleared his throat, held up his phone, and waved it at me.

“You were?” I asked, my voice cracking as I once again took in his ruggedly handsome face and felt my heart flip over.

“I wanted to call sooner.” He started walking toward me. “Usually I have weekends off because I’ve been on staff the longest, but everyone was celebrating Halloween last weekend, which meant we needed all hands on deck to deal with everything from skin rashes and oxygen deprivation in people who don’t realize spray paint and body paint aren’t the same thing, and heart attacks in men who had the wrong types of nurses in their beds.” He kept moving in my direction. “After that, I had my normal schedule, which is four twelves, but that turned into more like four eighteens because half the medical staff came down with the flu.”

He dragged his gaze from my Scooby-Doo-covered feet, up my Simpsons-covered groin, to my unshaven just-woke-up face and stopped when he was inches away from me. “Either I finally collapsed from exhaustion and right now I’m passed out in the hospital having the best dream ever or”—he grasped the sides of my robe and pulled it shut, then tied the belt more securely as he gazed into my eyes—“the cute guy I haven’t stopped thinking about just got even more adorable.”

“You think I’m cute?” I whispered as I blinked up at him.

He smiled softly. “I think you’re adorable.”

“Oh.” I scrunched up my nose and squinted. “Why?”

Travis threw his head back and laughed, and then he coughed, cleared his throat, and tried to look serious as he said, “I almost never see an adult wearing character slippers.”

“They were a present from my parents,” I said defensively. Technically, the present was a gift card, and I had chosen to spend it on slippers, but my money didn’t pay for them, so that still counted as a gift.

“Is that right?” He arched his eyebrows and crooked the side of his mouth up.

“Yes.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “For Hanukkah last year.”

“Lucky you.” He curled his lips over his teeth like he was holding in a grin. “All I got was a new otoscope.”

“What’s an otoscope?”

“It’s something for work. I use it to look in patients’ ears. Pretty fun present, huh?” He chuckled.

“Are you a doctor?” I asked.

He looked down at the scrubs and white coat he was wearing; then he slowly raised his head up and smirked. “Were you listening to anything I said? Or have you been too busy checking me out and having dirty thoughts?” He shook his head and smiled fondly. “Never mind, I think I like the second option better, so let’s go with that.” He cleared his throat and straightened my robe, flattening the fabric over my shoulders and chest. “In answer to your question, yes, I’m a doctor. Emergency medicine. I work at Southeast Medical Center.”

“Oh, uh,” I stammered, feeling foolish. “I didn’t think doctors smoked. But, uh, in that case, an otoscope sounds like a very, uh, practical present.”

Travis snorted. “Come visit the smoking area outside of a hospital sometime, and you’ll see one of our favorite ways to deal with stress and sleep deprivation. And, yes, my parents are really practical. When I was a kid, they used to give me socks and underwear for Hanukkah.” He paused and leered at me. “But they were always tighty-whities. Not like those super sexy Simpsons boxers you’re wearing.”

I blushed at the reference to my embarrassing underwear, and then the rest of what he said sunk in. My jaw dropped. “You’re Jewish?” I asked in surprise.

He nodded. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

“Only if you were hoping to avoid meeting my mother, because when I tell her I’m dating a Jewish doctor, she’s going to start cooking up a storm and planning a wedding.” Once I stopped babbling, I noticed that Travis was giving me that raised-brow, crooked-grin look again.

Had I just told a man who affirmatively hadn’t asked me out that we were not only dating but also were on our way to becoming engaged? At that moment, I created a new rule for myself: no talking to anybody until after my first cup of coffee. Clearly, my uncaffeinated morning brain couldn’t be trusted.

“Uh,” I said. “I need to go or I’ll be late for work.” Then I turned on my heel and rushed to my door.

“Shiloh!” Travis called out after me.

“Yes?” I asked without turning around.

“I’ll pick you up tonight at six thirty.”

I looked back over my shoulder. “Pick me up?”

“Yes. For our date.”

“Our date?” I repeated dumbly.

“Yup.” He nodded firmly. “I think it’s important we get to know each other before the wedding, don’t you?”

“I didn’t…. I mean, that’s not what I—”

“Six thirty.” He waved as he started walking back to his townhouse. “And feel free to wear those boxers.”

Chapter 2

Shiloh, Age 36

“
W
HAT
DO
you mean
sort of
?” I asked. I leaned back against the corner of the couch, propped my foot on the cushion, and rested my bent knee against my chest.

“Well, we did the whole ‘in out, in out’ thing, but nobody came.” He took a sip of his wine. “Does it count as fucking if it’s a dry ride?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, but I think this may be the strangest first date conversation of all time.”

“You’re the one who asked me about past relationships,” he pointed out.

“And you consider dry-ride guy a past relationship?”

He snorted and said, “Touché.” Then he reached for the bottle of wine and poured the last of it into our glasses. “Okay, if we’re not counting the occasional hookup, my last real relationship ended, um….” He pursed his lips and looked thoughtful. “Twelve years ago.”

I found that surprising. “Twelve years?”

“I’m forty-one now, and I was twenty-nine when we ended it, so, yup. Twelve years.”

I tilted my glass against my mouth. “How long were you together?”

“About two years.”

Once my wine was drained, he took the empty glass from my hand and placed it on the coffee table next to his.

“Two years is a decent amount of time. What happened?” I asked.

He stretched out across the couch, tugged me down on top of him, and wrapped his strong arms around my back, encouraging me to rest my head on his muscular chest.

We barely knew each other. We’d had the short conversation outside the dance followed by the even shorter conversation that morning, and then dinner that night. But there was something about him that made me feel like I’d know him forever. His touches felt natural, the conversation unguarded. Everything about being with Travis Kahn felt right in a fundamental way. I kissed the base of his neck and then snuggled close.

“Well, I met him during my residency,” he said as he gently combed his fingers through my hair. I slid my hands under his shirt and stroked his bare skin. “He was a couple of years ahead of me, so he finished first and took a job out of state.”

“You didn’t want to keep it going long-distance until you were done?”

“Nah.” Travis shook his head. “It wasn’t ever really right between us.” He let out a deep breath. “The truth is, the relationship had already run its course by then, so his moving was an easy out.”

Travis just said he’d had a two-year relationship with someone and hadn’t ever felt it was right. After a matter of hours, I already felt more right with him than I had with anyone ever. That was a crazy thing to think in any circumstance, but to think it that quickly was a setup for disappointment. I didn’t want to suffer the fate of his ex.

“What about it wasn’t right?” I asked, needing to know if I was walking down that same path.

“You know, he used to ask me that, used to tell me I wasn’t really present in the relationship. And I knew what he meant, but there wasn’t anything I could do about it because the real issue was that I never felt like he was the right guy for me.” Travis gently massaged my nape and kissed the top of my head, making me tremble. I cuddled closer to him. “I realized afterward that I shouldn’t date someone if that’s how I feel about him because it isn’t fair to either of us.” He shrugged. “So I haven’t.”

“Thus the twelve-year gap,” I said.

“Thus the twelve-year gap,” he confirmed.

We were quiet for several minutes after that, both of us touching one another, and, I assumed, thinking. At least I knew I was thinking.

“I don’t think we talked about when you moved in next door. I don’t remember seeing a truck or anything.”

“That’s because there wasn’t a truck. Tammy and Trey left a good bit of furniture in the townhouse when they moved, and I’ll only be there for a couple of months, so there was no point in dragging my stuff in.”

“Tammy and Trey?”

He chuckled. It was something I noticed he did often—laughed, smiled, exuded happiness. “Your former next-door neighbors,” he said. “They bought the place five years ago and you don’t know their names?”

“I’ve only lived here for two.”

“Oh, that explains it,” he said sarcastically. “Two years isn’t enough time to meet the people sleeping a few dozen feet away.”

“I met them,” I said defensively. “We used to wave when we saw each other pulling into our garages.”

He laughed deeply, causing his chest to vibrate underneath me, and then he coughed and said, “Ehm, okay, got it. Although I’m not sure waving for a couple of seconds counts as meeting.”

“Whatever.” I pinched his hip and he laughed louder. “And what do you mean you’ll only be there for a couple of months?” I asked. “You didn’t buy the place?”

“No.” He shook his head. “They weren’t having any luck selling it, so they decided to take it off the market while they get a new Realtor. The house I was renting sold, and I hadn’t decided whether I should buy a new place or rent again. This works out well. I’m covering the mortgage so they don’t have to deal with the expense, and I get a place I can stay month to month while I figure out what I want to do next.”

“Oh,” I said, hoping my disappointment about the fact that he’d soon be moving away wasn’t clear from my tone. “That’s lucky.”

“What’s wrong?” Travis asked, immediately picking up on my distress.

“Nothing,” I lied.

I wasn’t usually so easy to read, and I didn’t know whether he could see through me because my emotions were so close to the surface when I was with him or if he was really insightful. Either way, I knew it wasn’t reasonable to be upset about his finding a long-term place to live, so there was no way I was going to admit that the thought of it had brought me down.

“It’s not like I’m moving out tomorrow,” he said softly. “We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other better before they sell the place.” He kissed my temple. “And besides, I’ll never move very far. I hate commuting, and the hospital is ten minutes from here.”

“I know,” I said and clung to him a little tighter.

After a few silent moments, he said, “Listen, I know this is our first date, but I don’t want to go home tonight.” He rubbed my back. “I want to hold you.” I heard him swallow hard, and then he rasped, “Let me?”

Refusing wouldn’t make sense when I was aching for the same closeness, so I nodded and whispered, “I want that too.”

We didn’t get up right away, both of us feeling too content and too tired to move, even if it meant relocating to an even more comfortable place where we could sleep for the night. Travis’s warmth soaked through me, and his heartbeat lulled me into a deeply relaxed state.

I didn’t realize I’d closed my eyes until I heard him whisper, “Shiloh?” He was still rubbing my back. “Shy, honey?”

I blinked my eyes open and looked at him as I yawned. “What happened?” I asked, feeling a little disoriented.