Some Like It Hotter (Sweet Life in Seattle #3) (39 page)

He rests his hand on her thigh then slides it down to her knee and back up. Whenever he’s near Lindsay, he can’t stop touching her. “Do you want me to cancel your origami class at the hospital?”

“I don’t think so.” She appears to consider it as she studies her bandaged finger. The class is scheduled a few days from now. “I mean, it’s the middle finger on my left hand, so it should be okay. Plus, I would hate to disappoint any of the kids.”

He nods, not surprised she doesn’t want to cancel. “Oh, and by the way, I saw my credit card statement recently.”

She sticks her fork into a cherry tomato on her plate and looks at him questioningly.

“From that card I left you in Berlin?”

Her eyes widen for a microsecond, but then she shrugs and opens her mouth to eat the tomato. “What about it?”

“You donated a thousand dollars to UNICEF?”

She continues to eat her salad. “I was pissed at you for abandoning me in that hotel room. You should be grateful.”

“Grateful for what?”

“Grateful I didn’t buy the mink coat and diamond ring I had my eye on.”

Giovanni doesn’t say anything. For some reason, his own eyes flash to the plain gold wedding band she’s wearing, and he feels a peculiar embarrassment. If he could do it over again, he knows he’d buy her something with far more panache.

She smirks. “So you see? You actually got off cheap. Plus, it’s for a good cause.”

What in the hell is he supposed to say to that?

“Maybe you’d like to send them my paycheck too,” he mutters, though in truth he doesn’t really care. He regrets abandoning her after that night in Berlin. It pains him to even think of her waking up alone in a hotel like that now.

“You pull that shit on me again and I just might.”

His hand is still on her thigh, and he gently squeezes it. “That won’t ever happen again. I promise.”

She blinks and considers him for a long moment. “It better not.”

A few days later, Giovanni spends his morning in the OR repairing a cleft lip on a three-month-old. The surgery goes smoothly, and after speaking with the parents in the recovery room, reassuring them both and explaining some of the post-operative care, he checks the time. He realizes Lindsay is probably still at the hospital teaching her origami class and decides to stop by and say hello.

Not bothering to change out of his scrubs, he finds the classroom and sneaks in the back, nodding a greeting to some of the parents who are there along with a couple of the nurses.

The kids are all sitting at a table as Lindsay goes around to each one, helping them. He sees a number of colorful origami animals and stars that they’ve already made spread over the center.

She doesn’t see him yet, and for a long moment, he simply stands there watching her, enjoying the sight. Her hair is pulled into a low ponytail, with a few strands falling loose around her face. She’s wearing a long blue skirt and a short-sleeved T-shirt, along with a colorful beaded necklace. As always, she looks lovely, and he enjoys seeing her as an outsider, as others do.

Beautiful and vivacious.

When he initially asked her if she wanted to teach this class, he worried for a second whether she could handle dealing with children who were ill, since it can be difficult for some people. But in the end, he decided she’d be fine.

And he sees now how correct he was. She’s completely at ease, and obviously having a great time as she teaches the kids in that unflappable way of hers.

Eventually, she looks up and notices him. “Hey, what are you doing here?” She smiles, her eyes taking in his scrubs.

“I had a moment and just thought I’d stop by.”

“That was nice of you.” She turns to everyone in the small group. “This is my husband, Giovanni, or Dr. Novello.”

He nods and murmurs “Hello” to everyone, and they all return the greeting. Inside, he’s stunned. He’s never heard Lindsay refer to him as her husband before, and he has to admit he liked the sound of it.

She takes in his scrubs again. “I’ve never seen you . . . dressed like this.”

“I’ve been in surgery all morning.”

Her eyes still linger on him, but then she turns to the kids. “He’s the one who repaired my Godzilla finger.” She holds up her bandaged middle finger, which now has a splint on it, and has apparently been under discussion.

“Did it hurt when he fixed it?” one of the kids asks.

“A little,” Lindsay admits. “But I’ve discovered a silver lining to having this Godzilla finger.”

“What’s that?” another child wants to know.

“It’s easier to flip people off in traffic when they’re driving like jerks.” Lindsay’s brows go up as she realizes what she’s just said.

Though everyone in the room laughs, including the kids.

“I think
I
could use one of those,” one of the nurses comments, and there are nods of agreement.

Lindsay meets his eyes. He’s still chuckling because he knows firsthand that she drives like she’s being chased by terrorists.

“I’m glad it’s come in handy,” he says in a dry tone. “You might as well make the most of it.”

One of the kids asks her a question about the origami elephant he’s making, and she goes over to help. Giovanni stays and watches for a moment longer, only because he can’t pull his eyes away. In truth, he’s completely mesmerized by her and he’s certain the whole room can see it, not that it matters.

She’s my wife, after all.

He leaves the classroom and, after checking on his patient from this morning and a couple of others, he grabs a sandwich and a bottle of water from the lunch room. While he’s eating, he gets his phone out and surfs the Web for a few minutes, reading more about fruit trees and how to care for them.

On a whim, he thumbs in a name he’s been meaning to look up for a while, and that’s when he discovers something that takes him completely by surprise.

Lindsay, it turns out, has her own Wikipedia page.

Giovanni doesn’t get home until late. Lindsay is in bed, sipping a glass of wine and reading through her e-mails, when she hears the front door. There’s still no word on whether the gallery in San Francisco has sold her mask yet. No word from Dagmar about her money either.

I need to do something soon.

Mostly though, she needs to get back to work. She opened her studio the other day but hasn’t started any projects yet. School will be starting in a few weeks. If only she had a bankroll she could at least earn some money playing poker. When Giovanni comes into the bedroom, he looks exhausted.

“I thought you’d be home hours ago,” she says. “Do you want me to heat up some food for you?”

He sits down on the edge of the bed and kicks his shoes off. “They needed me in the ER. A dog bite came in—a bad one.” He flops down on his back and closes his eyes. “The little boy’s going to be okay, though.”

She moves over so she’s closer to him and caresses his face. There are shadows beneath his eyes, stress lines on his forehead. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

He opens his eyes and looks up at her, his face softening as they gaze at each other.

“Do you want a glass of wine?” she asks.

“No.”

“A hot shower with me going down on you?”

He smiles faintly. “You’re not allowed to get your finger wet.”

“It’s not a problem. Unlike you, I’m right-handed, remember?” She holds up her right hand and wiggles her healthy fingers.

He doesn’t say anything, only considers her. She senses there’s something else bothering him and soon discovers she’s right.

“Why is it you never told me you have a Wiki page?”

Lindsay manages to hide her surprise, though she knew this was coming eventually. She moves away from him and reaches for her glass. “How did you find it?”

“I Googled your father and it led me straight there.”

She sips her wine, knowing what’s next. It’s not the first time she’s had to deal with this. “You Googled my dad?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your first husband? All you ever said was that he’s a musician.”

“It’s true. He is a musician.”

“But the lead singer for East Echo?” Giovanni frowns like he’s still processing it. “I don’t listen to rock music much, but even
I
know who they are.”

Lindsay looks down at her bandaged finger. She’s still wearing the splint. “It was a long time ago.”

“And that famous song they had, ‘Queen of Hearts,’—it’s about
you.
” He looks at her. “That tattoo on your back. The one I’ve kissed so many times. That’s what he’s singing about, isn't it?”

She grips her glass but doesn’t say anything. She hates that Wiki page, and she hates that song even more. It’s about a woman who collects hearts and refuses to return them.
If only Josh had never written it
. The Wiki page has been a plague as well, and she has no idea who created it. It would be one thing if it focused on her career as an artist, but it barely even mentions her art—all it talks about is how she was once married to Joshua Trevant and how he wrote that song about her. “Look, it was an unpleasant breakup, but it was ages ago. More than ten years. They weren’t even famous yet.”

“I can’t believe you never told me about this.” His eyes stay on hers. “I thought you didn’t want to keep secrets anymore.”

“It’s not a secret. I was going to tell you eventually. Is it really that big of a deal?”

“It is when I have to find out about it from a Wikipedia article.”

She feels her temper flare. “What does it matter? It’s not like you tell me everything.” She puts her glass down. “In fact, you won’t tell me
anything
.”

They stare at each other, and both of them know what she’s referring to. He closes his eyes again but doesn’t reply.

“I got an e-mail from the children’s coordinator who set up your class at the hospital,” he says. “You were a hit. They want you to come back and teach it again, possibly even set up something regular.”

She nods.
Of course, he’d change the subject
. In some ways, he’s as impenetrable as Fort Knox.

“They’ll pay you.” He looks up at her.

“Great.”

His eyes stay on her, not looking away.

“What is it?” she asks.