The Dance (26 page)

He huffed. “I’m not in the mood for chicken. Would you go across the street and get me a burger?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“No.”

“I went to all this trouble. Why didn’t you text me this morning and tell me to get you a burger?”

“I didn’t know you were bringing chicken,” he grumbled.

“You knew you wanted a hamburger.”

“Bryson, get off my back. I’m in enough pain without having to listen to your whining.”

I inhaled a deep breath and tried to tamp down my anger. Will could be a manipulative son of a bitch. After dating for a while I began to notice how he’d say hurtful things just to see my reaction. Once he got what he was going for, he’d swoop in all sweet. At first I didn’t argue, chalking it up to teenage angst. I had my moody days too. As we got older I challenged him on occasion. He’d back-pedal, claiming he never meant the harsh words the way I took them. As the marriage crumbled I knew this was his way of inducing guilt and making me feel even worse. I’d been working very hard not to take the bait.

I put the lid back on the container of salad and packed up. Grabbing the cooler and my purse, I turned on my heels and headed toward the door.

“Bryson, wait.” I stopped and waited for an apology. “I’d like fries too.”

As I closed the door, my middle finger levitated on its own volition as I muttered, “Asshole.”

I stomped down the hallway and out the main entrance. As I rounded the corner of the building where my car was parked, I passed the courtyard. It was a quaint little area with shade trees, azalea bushes, a couple of benches, and picnic tables. I’d come out here before when I needed a breather from Will’s attitude.

The courtyard was deserted except for one person. Hart was sitting at one of the picnic tables, soaking up the warmth of the sun and reading. The corners of my mouth curled up and all the anger and annoyance from earlier disappeared. Without consulting my brain, my legs moved me forward until I was standing next to him.

“Whatcha reading?”

He looked up with squinted eyes. A slow grin formed across his mouth, causing butterflies to swarm in my belly.

“
Reading Is Sexy: A Guide to Picking Up Hot Women
. It’s working great so far.”

I gave him a shy smile. “Have you had lunch yet?”

“Nope.”

“Do you like chicken salad?”

“Yep.”

I placed the cooler on the table and unpacked it. “Today’s your lucky day.”

Hart watched in amazement as I pulled out the food, paper plates, and utensils, setting it all in front of him.

“What’s all this?”

“Will wasn’t in the mood for chicken today.”

He closed his book and put it aside. “You do know we have a fully staffed dining room, right?”

“He doesn’t like what they serve.”

“So you bring him food every day?”

I nodded, then cringed remembering the promise I’d made. “Please, don’t get Mrs. Tanner in trouble. She’s been wonderful and understanding.”

Hart gave a subtle head shake and tried to hide an eye roll, unsuccessfully. “My lips are sealed.”

A sigh of relief drifted out of me.

“Thank you. Well, enjoy.” I started to walk away.

“Whoa. You can’t leave me here to eat alone.”

I knew he was just being nice. After all, I’d laid a feast before him. But I had to admit his words made my head a little floaty. I was more excited than I probably should have been to spend more time in his company. Hart had positioned himself at the end of the table. Without protest, I sat next to him.

I scooped three large spoonfuls of salad onto a plate and handed it to him.

“Don’t forget the bread.” I slid the plate of already sliced bread across the table.

“Looks like you thought of everything,” he said.

“I didn’t bring anything to drink.”

He raised his bottled water. “I’ll share my water.”

My cheeks flushed thinking about my lips touching the same bottle as his touched.

I sounded like a Hallmark movie.

Hart plunged his fork into the salad and brought it up to his mouth. I got a little dizzy staring as he chewed and swallowed. When he stopped chewing I noticed the corners of his mouth twitching into a slight grin. I darted my eyes away but it was too late. He’d solidly caught me.

“Bryson, this is incredible. Where’d you get it from?”

“I made it.”

“You’re kidding.” He sounded surprised.

“I made the bread and the pie too.”

“What’s in this salad?”

“You really want to know?”

He nodded his head, eating another forkful, appearing genuinely interested.

“Well, chicken, of course. Red grapes, walnuts, celery, celery seed, salt, pepper, mayo, and my secret ingredient.”

Grabbing a piece of bread, he flirted. “What’s your secret, Bryson?”

“If I told you that it would take all the mystery out of our relationship.”

“I think there’s enough to spare.” He tore off a small piece of bread and popped it into his mouth. “Damn, this melts in your mouth.”

My cheeks were hurting from the smile glued to my face. I was beside myself with excitement from Hart enjoying my food so much.

“Okay. I’ll tell you but you’re sworn to secrecy.”

“I’ll take it to the grave.”

I placed my forearms on the table and leaned forward. “I add two tablespoons of Durkee’s.”

“I have no idea what language you’re speaking.” He continued to eat, alternating between the salad and bread.

Chuckling, I said, “Durkee’s famous sauce.”

Hart shrugged his shoulders, still having no clue what I was referring to.

“It’s a mustardy, vinegary, mayonnaise-based concoction.”

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place? I’m a simple man. You gotta use simple words.”

“I’ll remember that the next time we eat together.”

“So, there’s going to be a next time? Man, that book really does work.”

My entire body heated and blushed. This was the happiest I’d felt in a long time and all it took were a few kind words from the right person.

“What restaurant are you the head chef at?” He lifted another forkful to his mouth.

My eyebrows furrowed. “In my kitchen at home.”

“You mean this isn’t your career?”

I simply shook my head in response.

“You’re kidding.” He swirled the last piece of bread around his plate collecting every little salad remnant. “Damn, woman, it should be.”

Beaming, I dished out the biggest piece of pecan pie and slid it toward him. “You think so?”

“Absolutely.” He twisted the top off of his bottled water and took a swig. “Where did you go to culinary school?”

“Nowhere.” My gaze dropped. For some reason I felt embarrassed to admit that fact.

“So, this is all natural talent.”

The biggest smile split across my face.

“At one point, I thought about going to culinary school. Maybe opening up my own catering business. But, you know, other priorities come into play and force you to choose. It was a silly idea anyway.”

Hart put his fork down and held my gaze. “Your heart’s passion is never silly. If you follow it, it will steer you in the right direction.”

My throat tightened with the hint of a sob.

Hart was oblivious to the impact his words had on me. He was only the second person I’d shared my dream with, of running my own catering business. But he was the first person to encourage me to reach for it. He was a nice guy being nice. I needed to remind myself to take it at face value and not read anything more into it. As I stared into his smoky eyes, it was becoming clear to me that I craved our time together no matter how brief. I wanted him in my life in some capacity for as long as possible.

My body vibrated with anticipation as he brought the golden-pie-filled fork to his mouth. His expression relaxed into pure pleasure. I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up and out of me. As he devoured the rest of the pie, fully enjoying each mouthful, tears played at the back of my eyes.

Oh my god! What is wrong with me? I cannot let him see me cry. He’ll think I’m a nut case.

I looked away, blinking back the tears as I kept busy packing up what was left of lunch.

The touch of a warm hand on my forearm stilled me. “Hey, you okay?”

I looked down at Hart’s skin touching mine before my gaze bounced up to his.

Pursing my lips, I nodded. “Must be allergies.”

The second he removed his hand, a twinge of emptiness hit me.

“Thank you for lunch. It was amazing.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“It was the second best thing that happened to me today.” He winked.

I wasn’t sure if he was implying the first best thing was spending time with me. I wasn’t going to ask for clarification. So I smiled, kept my big mouth shut, and finished packing the cooler.

“We could do it again sometime if you’d like,” I said.

“I’d like that.”

A rush of adrenaline zipped through my body.

“Great. Let me know some of your favorite foods and I’ll work around them.” My insides cringed with how eager I sounded.

“Oh no. Next time it’s my treat.”

“You cook?”

“Um . . . no. But I order a mean pizza.” We exchanged smiles. “That is if you think it won’t cause trouble between you and Will. Is he okay with you sharing your talents with an old friend?”

“Will and I are married.” The words catapulted from my mouth.

My eyes doubled in size as I stared at Hart with my mouth hanging wide open.

“Oh god. I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from. I didn’t mean to blurt it out that way. I just felt I needed to . . .”

Hart reached over and grabbed my hand putting a halt to my rambling.

“It’s okay. I knew already.”

My features scrunched up in confusion.

“I have access to patients’ records.”

I couldn’t deny the goosebumps popping up along my arms knowing Hart had checked on my availability. Maybe he was enjoying our time together as much as I was.

“So, you did a little snooping?” My tone was a lot flirtier than I intended.

His gaze dropped. “I review every patient’s chart on admission and periodically throughout their stay. The married box was marked and you’re listed as Will’s emergency contact.”

My stomach dropped with disappointment and embarrassment. Hart must think I’m some desperate housewife looking to cheat on her poor incapacitated husband. I needed to make a quick exit before I made an even bigger fool of myself. I grabbed the cooler and was about to stand when Hart’s fingers circled around my wrist.

“Bryson, what just happened that has you bolting out of here?”

Without going into a lot of detail, I wanted Hart to know that Will and I weren’t as we appeared.

I took in a deep breath and lowered myself onto the seat. I noticed Hart didn’t let go of my wrist. “Will and I . . . it’s complicated.” I hesitated. Other than Sophie, no one knew Will and I had argued the morning of the car wreck. “I asked Will for a divorce the same day as the accident. While he was in the hospital, he asked me to stay with him during his recovery.”

Hart removed his hand from my arm and nodded. “I think I understand.”

“But that shouldn’t stop two old friends from sharing a meal on occasion. At least I hope it doesn’t.”

I focused on the red cooler in front of me, not wanting to see Hart’s reaction. My stomach twisted in knots. I knew that this was probably the last moment we would share. Even though we were becoming just friends, there was no way he’d want to invite the drama of a divorcing couple into his life. And I couldn’t blame him.

After what felt like an hour of silence, Hart said, “What do you like on your pizza?”

Whipping my head in his direction, our gaze locked for . . .

One Mississippi.

Two Mississippi.

Three Mississippi.

My phone buzzed with a text, startling me. I kept my eyes on Hart as I pulled my phone from my purse, looking away at the last possible minute.

Will:
Where the hell are you? I’m starving.

Shit! I forgot about his hamburger.

Me:
Traffic. Be there shortly.

“Sorry. I better go.” I grabbed the cooler and my purse.

Hart nodded in understanding.

“Catch you later.” He threw me a wink and a grin.

I took a few steps backward. “Black olives, extra cheese, and spicy Italian sausage.”

We exchanged one last smile before I turned and headed to my car.