Mail Order Stepbrother (5 page)

The surgery was scheduled for the following day.

Melanie curled up on her bed the moment she got home, this heavy, sick feeling settling in her chest as she thought about it. Nash had texted her a couple of times during the day, but she didn’t answer. Her thoughts were so full of that tiny baby and his already unfair life. So many things were already stacked against him. She didn’t want to make things worse.

She closed her eyes and went through the steps of the surgery in her mind. She’d done the same type of surgery hundreds of time in stretch of her short career that she knew it like the back of her hand. But she was still worried.

She would never forgive herself if the surgery went badly.

Her phone rang, the ringtone making her jump in the silence of her apartment. She dragged it out of her pocket, not bothering to look at the caller ID before answering.

“Melanie Spence.”

“Wow. You have a lovely voice.”

She sat up a little. “Who is this?”

But she already knew. There was something about the velvety tone of his voice, the soft inflection of his words.

“Nash?”

“You didn’t answer my texts, so I thought I’d have better luck if I called.” There was laughter in his voice. “Or maybe I just thought if I caught you by surprise, you’d be more likely to answer.”

“You think you know me, don’t you?”

“Am I wrong?”

Melanie couldn’t deny that he was right. If she hadn’t been distracted, if she had looked at the caller ID, she might not have answered. But now that she had, she was glad she did.

“I’ve had a really long day,” she said with a soft sigh. “This is a nice way to end it.”

“You know what would be even better? Good food, good company, and a big bottle of wine.”

“Are you offering?”

“Definitely.”

***

Melanie wondered if she would be standing here if it hadn’t been for the whole fiasco with Jack. If she hadn’t kissed him, if he hadn’t told his wife she could save his kid, if she hadn’t run into them at the craft store…

She stood just inside the door of an Italian restaurant she’d heard of but never visited before, her hands moving unconsciously over the skirt of her black dress. Nash was here somewhere. In just a few seconds, her chance to back off and stop the inevitable would be gone. She was nervous, but hearing the sound of his voice had calmed a lot of the what-ifs that had been playing nonstop in her head since the whole thing began.

She was about to meet Nash. And she was okay with that.

She approached the hostess’ podium and smiled.

“I’m supposed to be meeting someone. Nash Watkins?”

“Watkins?”

The hostess frowned as she ran her finger down the columns in her reservation book. Before she could find anything, a voice spoke Melanie’s name. The same velvety voice from the phone.

She turned slowly, a little reluctant to let go of the image she held in her head of Nash. But reality was far better.

He was tall, tall enough she had to step back just slightly to look up into his face. Instead of the blond hair she had imagined, he sported impossibly dark black hair that contrasted beautifully with his blue eyes and Irish pale skin tone. He did wear the well-tailored suit she had imagined, and it was clearly expensive, a dark blue shirt that stretched erotically over defined pecs, the color making his eyes bluer and his skin paler. He was so handsome, Melanie was a little concerned that this wasn’t her Nash—that her Nash was a little nerdy guy hiding behind this Adonis of a man.

And then he smiled, his eyes slowly traveling over her, from her quickly coifed hair to the black dress that accented each of her curves. Her heart leapt into her throat and she was suddenly so very glad she decided to come out that night.

“Nash, I presume?” she asked, stepping forward and holding out her hand.

“You presume correctly.”

He took her hand and held it warmly between both of his. She almost expected him to kiss her fingertips, if the twinkle in his eye meant anything, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned her toward the dining room and politely guided her to a small, intimate table in a back corner.

“You haven’t been waiting long, have you?”

He shook his head as he slid into his seat. “Not too long.” But the nearly empty bread basket in front of him suggested something different.

A waitress immediately appeared, eyes only on Nash as she asked if they were ready to order. Melanie hadn’t even lifted the menu yet, so she nodded when Nash suggested he order for them both.

“I hope you like chicken,” he said softly as he ordered chicken with fettucine alfredo and a bottle of Riesling, a lovely white wine.

As soon as the waitress was gone, Nash leaned forward a little, as though he was trying to take in every inch of her across the narrow table.

“When did you get back from New York?” she asked, her fingers tearing at the napkin she held in her lap even as she found it nearly impossible to remove her eyes from his face.

“Last night.” He bit his bottom lip as his eyes moved slowly over her face, as though he was drinking in everything from the curve of her jaw to the slight upward tilt of her nose. “I started to text you when the plane landed, to arrange this date then, but I decided it was a little late…and then you didn’t answer any of my texts all day. I thought maybe you had changed your mind.”

Melanie quickly shook her head. “No. I just had one of those days.”

He nodded, understanding radiating from the soft lines that all but disappeared across his forehead and alongside his mouth. “I understand that.”

His gaze was so intense that Melanie almost felt as though she was positioned under a spotlight. She shifted in her seat, her eyes darting around the restaurant before coming back to his face. She couldn’t get over how beautiful he was. She could feel the stares of the other diners around them, could almost feel the daggers those other women—and some men—were staring into the back of her head. It should have—it would have, in the past—made her self-conscious. But there was something so familiar about him that, even as she was mesmerized by his intensely blue eyes, she felt comfortable being this close to him.

Maybe it was the weeks they had spent talking.

“Was your trip successful?”

He sat back and shrugged broad, powerful shoulders. “It was, to a certain point. I was meeting with managers of our stores on the east coast, trying to work out a few problems we’ve been having with sales in those stores. Some of the insight those managers brought to the table was helpful, but didn’t really answer the questions that needed answering.”

“Then your family business is some sort of retail store?”

He inclined his head slightly, but it was pretty obvious he didn’t want to talk about it. A man who didn’t want to talk about his business during a date. Refreshing.

The waitress arrived with the bottle of wine. Nash waved her away when she began to go through the process of allowing him a quick taste, obviously preferring to take it on the restaurant’s word that it was a sufficient bottle of wine. Melanie also found that refreshing. Too many she dated liked to show off their prowess with the finer things in life. She didn’t really care. She grew up in a single parent home, unaware there were brand name foods and beverages until she was a teenager.

The wine was delicious and it quickly helped loosen Melanie’s tongue. Nash changed the subject, talking about a movie he had seen in his hotel room Saturday night. After Melanie managed to get past the image of Nash lying alone in a king sized bed…she realized he was talking about a film she had been trying to see for months.

“I never have time for movies. I once rented two movies and they sat on my coffee table for a month before I realized I had not only never gotten around to watching them, but that I’d kept them so long that my credit card had been charged the full retail price of both.” She laughed. “I still don’t think I’ve watched them.”

“But you’ve got to take time for mindless entertainment. It’s the only way to stay sane.”

“I do. I watch reality television whenever I have a chance.”

“What kind?”

Melanie shrugged. “I like those
House Hunters International
shows. And some of the shows on the Food Network.”

“
Chopped.”

She laughed again. “Yes. Love that one. Those judges are so picky sometimes.”

“I saw one episode where a couple of the judges competed, and they made the same mistakes they’re always calling the contestants out on.”

Melanie nodded. “Yeah. It’s not as easy as it looks.”

“Do you cook?”

Melanie nearly snorted. “My mother tried in vain to teach me when I was a teenager, but I still can’t do much more than make toast. And even that I burn from time to time.”

Nash laughed, the sound like a river of cream washing down over her. “Then it’s a good thing I can.”

The promise in those words made Melanie’s heart swell with more hope than she had allowed herself in a very long time. She smiled, but the waitress returned before she could do or say anything else. They dug into their food with equal gusto, Nash making her laugh when his pasta failed to stay on the fork as he had intended. It was like they just fell into this place, skipping the new relationship zone and jumping right in to the honeymoon phase, that place where they could do or say just about anything to each other and it was all perfect.

Melanie forgot all about Jack and Tess and Eli, about the stresses of her job, the surgery she was to perform tomorrow afternoon and the other patients expecting her to declare them healed of their various ailments. The only thing that seemed to matter in that moment was the amazingly good food set before her, the cold, slightly tart wine washing over her tongue, and the handsome man in front of her.

They stayed ‘til the restaurant closed down, something Melanie had never done before. The manager literally came over and asked them if they would kindly vacate their table so that his staff could clean up and go home. Neither of them had realized how late it had gotten, let alone that they were the only customers left in the place.

Nash guided her to the parking lot with his hand on the small of her back. Melanie’s skin tingled and her heart seemed to be racing like it sometimes did when she was about to cut into a patient. As a doctor, she knew it was a burst of adrenaline that came from her sexual attraction to him. As a woman, she simply wanted him to keep touching her.

“That was some first date,” he said as they stopped beside her car. “I’m glad we did it.”

“Yeah? Or just glad to have it out of the way?”

A soft smile seemed to make his eyes sparkle in the dim light. “It didn’t feel like a hurdle to overcome.”

“No? You seemed reluctant, at first.”

“So did you.”

“I kind of liked the whole anonymous thing.” She pulled her keys out of her narrow bag, dangled them off of one finger. “I’ve had a few disastrous dates in the past…guys who were after something other than getting to know me. So, the emailing and everything felt different.”

“I’m with you there.” Nash moved closer, so that she almost trapped between the car and him. “I had pretty much decided to give up dating and get used to the idea of being a boring, old bachelor.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

The words slipped out before she could stop herself. The movement of her hand…well, that seemed to have a mind of its own, too. She pressed her palm to the center of his chest, every nerve in her body coming alive as his heat, the hardness of his muscles, the beat of his heart, seeped through his shirt and seemed to soak into her soul.

Nash pushed a piece of hair behind her ear, letting his finger linger along the outer edge, the tender flesh along her throat. They got lost in each other’s eyes for a long moment, an unspoken pile of words between them that did not need a voice. As much as it made her head spin and her battered self-esteem refused to believe it, she could see how desperately he wanted her. Almost as much as she wanted him. But she didn’t want to be the first one to push them that next step and she felt a little reluctance on his part, too.

“I should go,” Melanie said. But she didn’t move, didn’t even consider breaking that feeble contact.

“I’ve got an early meeting,” Nash agreed.

And then someone flashed their headlights in their direction as they pulled out of the parking lot. Melanie looked away and suddenly felt foolish, afraid she was coming on too strong. They had only just met, for goodness sakes. She had never done more than exchange a friendly peck with any man on the first date, not including Jack, but that wasn’t really a date, was it? But she couldn’t stop wishing he would kiss her. A real kiss, not one of those it-was-so-nice-to-meet-you kisses. She wanted to feel the heat of his breath washing over her, wanted to taste warm wine on his tongue, wanted to lose her breath and not care.

But it was late and she had surgery tomorrow afternoon. She needed to be on her game, not distracted by some first date that might not ever lead to anything. Though, she deeply hoped that it would lead to a lot more, to more bottles of wine and more creamy alfredo sauce and more amazing conversation and more…just more.

She looked up at him again and tried to smile as she let her hand drop to her side. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

She hesitated just a minute, again wishing for that kiss, but feeling his reluctance and blocked by her own fear. She forced a smile, hoped that it was a pleasant one and didn’t look as strained as it felt. “See you.”

She climbed into her car and calmly started it, raising her hand to him once more before she drove off. She glanced in the rearview mirror and watched him stand there, not moving, but not looking in her direction, either.

She didn’t understand. She had thought the date went so well. They talked about everything from movies to music to the apps they have on their personal cellphones. She never told him she was a doctor, but he didn’t seem overly curious about her profession. And he didn’t offer that much information about his career. In fact, he seemed most unwilling to talk about it, like he didn’t want her to know what he did for a living.