Page 55 of Dr. Weston

“Please.”

“I’d love to go out with you.” A magical smile crosses his face, and I almost stop there. He’s so handsome. And whether this is some game or not, it feels pretty darn amazing that he’s looking at me with such hopeful exuberance. “But we work together. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

He looks away, but not before I notice how his expression has fallen. God. I wish a fortune teller was one of the activities scheduled. I’d love to go out with this man. Yet, I’m not prepared for another heartbreak.

Looking into my glass, I decide to put it all out there. “My husband died about eight years ago. He had ALS.” I notice the audible intake of air from beside me. “It was so incredibly painful. To watch the man I loved falling deeper and deeper into an abyss I knew he’d never return from.” I trail my finger around the bottom of my wine glass, hoping to stifle the tears. I refuse to cry anymore. “It’s taken me a long, long time to heal. I think Kat was right when she said I had to grieve not only him, but the years leading up to his death.” I take a sip of my wine and try to push forward. “I’ve tried to date, but my heart hasn’t been in it. Until now.” My eyes flick to his, and I try to be as honest as I can. “But I’m worried it’s still a bit tattered. I’m fearful of putting myself out there.”

Broadie takes a sip of his wine but remains silent.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Are you dating?” I reach for a crusty piece of bread and nibble on the end, trying to focus on anything but how anxious I feel being this honest. “What happened with your ex-wife?”

Broadie takes a deep breath as if he’s about to dive into deep water. “I’m not dating. Haven’t dated since before I was married.”

I lift a brow in disbelief.

“It’s the truth. I don’t date for the very reason I got divorced. My career has always come first. It’s humiliating to admit that fact. My ex-wife knew the score when we got married. But it still didn’t make it right.” He takes another sip of his wine and turns so he’s facing me. “I have a lot of guilt over it. Especially that I wasn’t the father I should’ve been to my girls. I’m trying to make up for it because they deserve better.”

He turns away from me momentarily, as if he’s deep in thought, before spinning back around to look me straight in the eye. “Poppy, I can’t guarantee what happens tomorrow, if I’m being honest. Until I feel confident that I can treat a woman as an equal partner, I can’t commit to anything more. But I really am working on it.”

Having barely touched the food in front of me, I select one last Kalamata olive. This deep conversation has caused me to completely lose my appetite. “Do you want any more?”

Broadie shakes his head.

I wave to the server. “Can I take this back to my room?”

“Of course, I’ll get it packaged for you.”

“Thank you for being honest with me.” I detect a slight flinch at my words, but I’m sure it’s because he knows where this is going. Placing my hand on his forearm, I continue, “I think you’re an amazing man. And I’m flattered you asked me out. But until you’re ready for more, it’s too big of a gamble for me.”

Broadie’s head drops. “I understand.”

Gathering my leftover snacks, I lean in and give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you a little better.” When he doesn’t look at me, I take it as my cue to leave.

I barely make it two steps before I’m spun around, his strong hand wrapping around the nape of my neck, pulling me into him as his mouth devours mine. The plastic container starts to wobble, but Broadie is quick to grab it from me and place it on the bar. My hands slide up to the back of his neck, pulling at the ends of his hair as he tilts my head, deepening the kiss. Holy crap, in my entire life, no one has ever kissed me with as much passion. No one.

As his tongue slips between my lips, I feel his hand press to my lower back, pulling me closer. There’s no denying he’s hard. And if the firm press of him into my belly is any indication, this man is big.

It’s not until a throat clears behind us that I remember we’re still in the middle of a very public place. As I pull back, my lips swollen from the delectable assault, all I can think is that I want more. Who wouldn’t want more of this? Yet, he just said he couldn’t make any promises. Could I handle him passing me in the cafeteria like this never happened?

He trails his thumb over my lower lip, his eyes as hungry for more as mine are. “Sorry. I needed to know.”

“Know what?”

“If you tasted like more.”

CHAPTERNINETEEN

BROADIE

What am I doing? Really. What am I doing?

I must’ve jacked off all night long to the memory of that kiss. She’d just finished explaining why we couldn’t go out. She was worried I’d hurt her.The guy she’d thanked for being honest with her.The guy who’s been lying to her about everything.

What is wrong with me? How am I intelligent enough to graduate from Harvard and manage a million-dollar surgical practice, but lose my wife and kids and potentially the chance at a relationship with a woman who makes me feel like I could have it all? Am I this messed up?

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