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Authors: Rebecca Rohman

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He massages his forehead as he
rehashes the details. I can tell he is still hurt by this.

“That night I went to a place I’d
never been. I was so angry, I almost killed him. I didn’t think I could ever be
capable of being so violent, but that night I came close—too close. At some
point, he started bleeding profusely through his nose, and it occurred to me
that I’m a doctor. My job was to help save lives, and there I was, beating my
best friend to a pulp. I stopped and called an ambulance. Abby was asleep in
the bedroom down the hall. I think it scared Audrey. They used it against me in
court.”

“You have quite the temper.”

“I know, I regret it. I allowed myself
to lose control, and it cost me greatly. I don’t ever want to go to that place
again.”

“Were you arrested? Did they press
charges?”

“The police held me in the back of
the squad car for a while, but I was lucky. They didn’t press charges. That
didn’t stop them from using the bruised and battered images against me.” He taps
his fingertips across the tabletop as he speaks. “I was lucky, very lucky
because I could have lost my medical license over that. It was difficult in
court, fighting to see Abby, but knowing that Carlos had this thing that hung
over my head.”

I’m tempted to console him. I inch
my hand closer to his but pull away. “The courts couldn’t understand why you
snapped?”

“The last judge said to me that she
had no doubt that I loved Abby, but she couldn’t disregard the rights of her
biological parents who had not in any way shown that they would ever hurt their
child. She said they may not have been the best best friend and wife, but even
if I hadn’t lost my temper that night, she couldn’t go against the rights of
the parents.”

“How is that fair to Abby? You were
the only father she had ever known.”

“Evidently, Carlos spent a lot of
time with them when I was away. Another judge said kids are resilient, and she’ll
get over it.” He sighs, and for a moment, he closes his eyes and leans back
into his seat.

“That’s really sad,” I whisper.

“It is.” His eyes meet mine, and I
see the hurt that still lingers.

“Do you know what explanation her
mother gave her?”

“No clue. I worry that she thinks I
abandoned her.”

My heart breaks for him and for Abby.
And I’m sure that little girl feels the way he fears. I resented my aunts for
years after they separated Zach and me. At that age, all I knew was that they
took away my best friend and the person I loved the most in the whole world.
Morgan and I live very different lives, but in so many ways, I relate to his
pain.

“What is it?” he asks, interrupting
my deep thoughts.

“Nothing, it’s just very sad. Trust
me when I tell you I understand exactly how you feel.” Rising to my feet, I
ask. “What would you like for dessert? Coffee? Cake? Alcohol?” I try to laugh
the pain away.

“Just some coffee, please,” he says,
helping me clear away the plates.

“Are you going in to work
tomorrow?”

“No. I officially start next week.
A few days a week at the clinic with my sister, Robin, and a couple of days at
the hospital.”

“You’ve mentioned her several times
now. Are you two close?”

“Very. Even when I was in Seattle,
I spoke to her almost every day.”

“Younger?”

“How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess,” I chuckle. “I sense
it. Zach is all but four hours older than me, but he thinks it’s four years.”

“All brothers, older or younger,
are protective of their sisters.”

“I suppose.”

“I was thinking of having a party at
my house when it’s finished to get to know my colleagues outside of a work
setting. When do you think might be a good date?”

“Two weeks. All the common spaces
should be done by then. After that, I’ll be working on the other bedrooms and
baths.”

“Will you come?”

“Sure, if I’m in the country I will.”
I slip a mug below the Keurig spout.

“Expecting to travel somewhere?”

“Yes. I have to head to Greece
soon. Jada is opening a resort there, and I’m working with local designers to complete
it.”

“Then I’ll make sure I schedule the
party for when you’re in town.”

I smile at his response but say
nothing. I keep busy slicing a piece of pound cake.

“So tell me more about Anjali,” I hand
him his coffee, and we stroll to the living room couch. “How did date night go?”

He laughs. Much of the earlier
tension from our previous conversation has left the room.

“I can’t believe you remembered her
name.”

“I was intrigued.”

“Were you now?” he smiles, peering
into my eyes. He rises from the sofa, heads to the kitchen, returns with his
laptop and sits next to me. “Look at this,” he continues, “I document each trip
with photos, and this is her dancing. She had completely evolved from the year
before.”

“What made you so passionate about
this?” I continue to look through the pictures from his trip.

“Audrey and I went to Belize for
vacation one year and we were driving around and ended up in this little
village. Some kids were playing and I noticed a little girl, watching from a
field in the distance. I’ll never forget the look she had in her eyes, they
were hollow and sad and maybe even a little bit envious. Her eyes were the
first thing I saw. But when she saw me looking at her, she stood up and ran
away, it was only then I saw the cleft palette. It was one of the most severe
cases I’d ever seen. And I could never get that look in her eyes out of my
head. In that one afternoon, I think I saw three kids with either a cleft palate
or lip.”

I come to the end of that set of
photos, and hand him his laptop. He quickly pulls up a pic of another little
girl with a severe cleft palate.

“That’s the little girl right here.
She started it. That afternoon, from the moment we went back to the hotel. I
asked if I could have a telephone directory, and I made a note of all the
doctors and hospitals in the area. When I came back home, I called every
doctor, surgeon, plastic surgeon, anesthesiologist I knew, and I got the ball
rolling. Together with some doctors there, we were able to do four of these
surgeries. That picture was taken of her before her surgery.”

He hits the next button on the top.
“This is the picture that was sent to me by the doctors over there after her
bandages were removed.”

The change in this little girls
features shock me, I can only imagine the impact this must have had on her
life.

As I listen to him, a glimmer of
warmth radiates deep within me, and besides his violent side he was so honest
about and shared with me earlier, I realize in that same man, too, is a very
compassionate and giving soul.

I can only imagine the shock of
coming home after one of these trips to find his home life as he knew it had
abruptly come to an end.

“You’re amazing,” I hear the words
leaving my lips and quickly correct myself. “I… I mean, it’s amazing what you do.”
Well maybe, I really do think he’s amazing, but… there’s that
C
word
again…

He smiles at me and is
uncharacteristically quiet; he always seems to have some smart-ass comeback.

I like him. A lot. More than anyone
I’ve been attracted to in a while. I find myself compromising all my so-called
rules and principles I put in place. Now, I have to deal with wondering if I
need to take down those boundaries I built so high for so long, or do I need to
keep them up, remembering why I put them there in the first place.

“What are you thinking about?”

“How I need to tidy up these dishes
and head to bed.”

“I’ll help you,” he responds. “I
can’t believe I’m still up at this hour.”

It’s almost 2:00 a.m. when Morgan
helps me pack the leftover food in the refrigerator. As he hands me the food
and wine, his hand grazes mine and a surge of electricity runs through my body.
I freeze in place, considering if I should turn to face him. He stands close
behind me, towering close to a foot over my head. I know what will happen if I
attempt to look at him. Already, hot visions of us
together
flash in my
mind. I pretend not to notice what transpired, and continue uselessly shuffling
around food from one shelf to the other in the fridge.

Backing away, he asks, “What time
should I get ready to return home tomorrow?”

“That’s entirely up to you. Saturdays
are my lazy, non-committal days. Even Pixie knows not to wake me. Just let me
know what time you want to leave tomorrow, and I’ll be ready. Then again, some
of your furniture might arrive tomorrow, but they told me they’d call to
confirm a time.”

“In that case, can we play it by
ear?”

“Sure. Why don’t you head to bed? I
know you’re exhausted. Besides, as you can see, Peaches is waiting to escort me
upstairs.”

“Thank you, Zoë,” he says, then
kisses me lightly on my cheek. “I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep well.”

With that, he disappears from view,
leaving the masculine sent of his aftershave lingering behind. Touching my
cheek where he kissed me, I realize at that moment how much I miss being with a
man. I wonder what it would be like to kiss him, to caress his body and for him
to caress mine. Wild images of us together in this house having raw, carnal sex
rush through my mind.

I finish in the kitchen and take my
fantasies with me to bed. This time, while my fingers do the pleasuring,
he
occupies my deepest thoughts.

I can’t believe
I’m sleeping under the same roof as
Zoë Jenkins. With some effort, I could have gotten the keys to Dad’s house. But
why would I turn down an invitation as generous as hers and miss an opportunity
to get to know this woman I have not been able to get out of my mind?

While I brush my teeth, I hear the
clamoring dishes in the kitchen below. Tonight I got a chance to know Zoë Jenkins
a little, and unfortunately for me, her behavior confirmed all my suspicions. She’s
extremely guarded, and I’m not so sure she’s that way only because of her last
bad relationship.

I sense it might be something
rooted in her childhood, but getting her to talk about her thoughts and
feelings has been difficult. Despite that, she’s been warm, sweet and
accommodating, allowing me into her home.

Knowing the little that I do about
her, it doesn’t surprise me that she’s chosen to live in a place completely
isolated from everyone. But after what the two most important women in my life
have been through, I’d be concerned about any female in my life living in a
place like this—alone. It does say something about her though. She’s not scared
of anyone.

I’m impressed with how she handled
the whole boat thing. Any other woman I know would have called the police or
some other male figure over something like that—especially at night. They would
have immediately thought it was an intruder but she just… fixed it.

Sexy as hell and a badass…

I listen to her talking to her
animals and moments later, a door shuts. If there is one thing I know, it’s
that she is just as attracted to me as I am to her. I felt it several times
tonight. I was tempted to kiss her earlier. The thought crosses my mind to go
knocking on that bedroom door, but the truth of the matter is, technically, I’m
still a married man. If she gave me the opportunity, I would not hold back on
doing anything with her. But because she made this an issue, I want to respect
her wishes. In two weeks, I’ll have every opportunity to use my powers of
persuasion on her. For now, I back off and sink into bed. After barely any
sleep in the last twenty-four hours, I could use a good night’s rest.

After very little
sleep, I wake up at 6:00 a.m.—unheard
of on a Saturday morning. Having
Dr. Hottie
sleeping at the opposite end
of the landing was not the recipe for a good night’s rest. Perhaps if he slept in
my bed, who knows? But that would come with a whole other set of complications.

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