Page 34 of Fight or Flight

Katherine didn’t explain to him why she didn’t have ice cream. The few times she’d ordered it from the gourmet market, it had arrived mushy. Refreezing it hadn’t helped. So she’d given up ice cream and didn’t miss it, either.

She sliced the pie, giving Tyler an extra-large piece, since he hadn’t had anything home-cooked in a while.

“This looks fantastic. I appreciate all this.” He gestured to the fire, the pie, the wine.

“I’m glad I had the courage to accept your invitation to dinner.” Again, she was glad for the dim lighting so Tyler couldn’t see her blush.

“So am I.” He took a bite of pie and then winked at her.

He watched her intently. She was tingling in all the right places. A ripple of excitement coursed through her. The possibilities were endless tonight, and she would make the most of them. Fearful of this intense attraction, yet thrilled, she decided she would not discourage him if he insinuated he wanted this evening to end in her bedroom.

“You don’t like the pie?” he asked.

She hadn’t taken a first bite. “I do. I was just thinking.”

He finished his pie, then pushed his dessert plate aside, reaching across the table and taking her hand. Goosebumps traveled the length of her body.

“You can share your thoughts if you like,” he told her.

She shook her head. “No, they’re not important right now.”

“If you say so. Though I believe every thought running through your head is important.”

She gave him a slight grin. “I’m not sure I’d go that far.”

“Don’t underestimate the powers you possess.” His tone was serious now. “I mean this in a positive way. The human brain is the most magnificent machine; nothing else compares.”

“That’s doctor-speak,” she said, though she wasn’t the least bit offended that he hadn’t waited until after dinner to bridge the topic, even though, technically, they were finished.

“No, this is me still. Just common sense.”

Unsure how to take this comment, she didn’t say anything.

“Doc calls you K. Why is that?”

Talk about a complete change of subject. It occurred to her that she hadn’t told him her full name. “K is short for Katherine.”

“Katherine.” He repeated her name. “Beautiful.”

“Thank you,” was all she could manage to say.

An uneasy silence filled the small space between them. Katherine recognized the sudden bonelike dryness in her throat, her inability to swallow. She feared she would choke. Suddenly her hands were like those of a ninety-year-old, trembling with age. She hid them beneath the table, tearing her paper napkin into shreds. Her breath came in short bursts, but her throat was too tight, closed. No air.

“Katherine, you’re having a panic attack. It’s all right. I’m here.” Tyler reached below the table, taking her hands in his. Keenly aware of the warmth of his hands, Katherine found his touch jarring yet comforting.

“Focus on me.” Tyler spoke softly. “Look at my shirt. See the buttons, my pocket.”

She followed his directions, noticing each pearl button, the threads in the blue chambray shirt’s fabric, and the double stitching on his pocket. Nodding, she continued to focus on the details of the shirt. His sleeves were folded halfway, the cuffs even, revealing tanned, muscular forearms. His collar was unbuttoned. Her eyes stopped on the patch of dark chest hair at the V of his collar. Quickly, she focused her gaze back on the buttons, unable—yet wanting—to make eye contact with him.

“You’re good. Keep concentrating on my shirt,” Tyler continued to coax.

Able to take a deep breath as the tightness in her throat eased, she pulled one of her hands from Tyler’s. She took her wineglass and downed what was left in her glass. Embarrassed beyond her wildest imaginings, she removed her other hand from his. She licked her still-dry lips, lowering her eyes to the shredded napkin in her lap. After she took a deep breath and slowly released it, her symptoms eased to a tolerable level.

“Better?” Tyler asked.

“Yes.”

“I’ll get some water.” He went to the main area of kitchen, returning with a large glass of tap water.

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