Page 41 of Deprived No More

Stepping from my car, I place my purse over my shoulder and meander the dirt path toward the sound of music in the distance. The musicians should be set up on the back patio if memory serves. Despite my sweater, it may be a short evening if it gets too chilly out there once the sun goes down. But I’ll enjoy myself until I’m no longer comfortable. That will be my cue to leave.

Turning the corner, my eyes widen in wonder. It’s so different than I recall. Beautiful strings of vintage lighting hang overhead, and gorgeous planters display vibrant foliage throughout the space. Bistro tables made of a light teak with matching chairs are interspersed about the patio area. Along the patio’s perimeter, there are long rectangular picnic tables for groups dining together. Each table has candlelight at its center, casting a warm glow upon the smiling patrons who are occupying the romantic setting.

The tune the musicians are playing has a bluesy jazz quality about it. Everyone appears to be enjoying themselves based on the robust smiles and the occasional swaying back and forth to the beat of the music. It’s a perfect spot for a fall evening.

Finding a table for two unoccupied in the back corner of the patio, I take a seat. A server dressed in black slacks and a white button-up strolls over to where I’m seated and asks if I’d like to try the house special. It combines a charcuterie board and a glass of wine from their evening’s wine selection. I choose a crisp pinot grigio and a glass of water. Thanking him, I settle in to enjoy the music and hopefully clear my head and my heart.

Almost instantly, it seems the server is returning with my wine, water, and selection of aged meats, cheeses, fruit, and nuts. Until I realize it’s Sam.

“Hi.” I jump up to hug him. I haven’t seen him in so long. “How are you?”

“I’m good. You look great. Where’s Nick?”

“He’s on-call. I just needed an adult night, so I decided to come and enjoy the evening on my own. You’ve done wonders with the place, Sam. It’s so different than the last time I was here. It feels magical.”

“Thanks. It’s getting there, little by little. There’s so much to do. I have to tackle it in pieces. But I’m proud of how it’s going so far.”

“You should be.”

“Listen, I have to get back to it. I just wanted to stop by and say hello. Please let me know if there’s anything you need while you’re here. And bring your husband back next time.”

“I will. It was great to see you.”

He returns to the building carrying an air of confidence I don’t recall seeing on him in the past. It looks good on him. Of course, he’s gorgeous like his brother, so most anything looks good on him. He has the same tall stature, dark hair, and deep blue eyes. But Sam’s always been more relaxed and playful. Perhaps too relaxed and playful if you ask Sebastian.

Settling back in my chair, I pop a juicy grape into my mouth and find a square of what appears to be aged cheddar. The small tray contains prosciutto, thinly sliced aged ham, and salami. There’s a wedge of Spanish cheese that looks to be Manchego, a slice of brie, and the gruyere also looks inviting. Taking a sip of the crisp, fruity wine, I close my eyes and smile. This feels like heaven. The only thing missing is someone to share it with.

“Hi. Do you mind if I join you?”

Uh oh.Opening my eyes, I look up, shocked to find Holden Knight standing beside my table. I’m so taken aback that I shift uncomfortably, sitting taller in my seat. “Um, sure.” Holy hell. It’d be rude to say no, right?

“I’m surprised to see you here,” he says, taking a sip of his wine.

“Likewise,” I return. This is so awkward.

“Your husband couldn’t join you?”

This is the first mention of my husband. I was starting to wonder if he’d even noticed my ring. I have kept my maiden name all of these years in the ER, as it’s quite honestly too much work to change my name on all of the credentialing paperwork at the hospital. But everyone knows I’m married to Nick. Well, at least I think everyone knows.

“No. Nick’s on-call this weekend.” I’m surprised by the sharpness in my tone. It’s subtle, but it’s there, nonetheless. I’m well aware this man is the reason Nick has so many more call shifts lately.

“Ah. And he lets you come out unattended?”

“I don’t need anyone’s permission to enjoy an evening on my own,” I answer with a tad more bite to my tone than the last remark. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his facial expression has become more stoic at my rebuttal. Did I offend him by pushing back against his comment?Who cares?

“I didn’t mean to imply you did.”

“What about you? You’re not here with anyone? I’d think if you were on the prowl, it might go much better for you if you weren’t sitting here with me.”

What is wrong with you, Kat? This guy’s a partner in your husband’s practice, and you need to continue to work with him. Just because he said something that pushed your buttons doesn’t mean you need to commit career suicide for both of you. I take a larger sip of wine this time as if I can blame my behavior on the alcohol.

“No, I’m right where I want to be.”

My head snaps in his direction, shocked by both the statement and the sultry delivery. Our eyes meet over the center of the table. The heat radiating from his deep blue orbs has nothing to do with the reflection of that candlelight. I pop a lightly salted cashew into my mouth and take a smaller sip from my glass to refocus on my evening. As a particularly delicious part of the melody unfolds, I close my eyes and tap my toes. As I open them to reach for my wine again, I notice Holden staring.

We both sit in uncomfortable silence as the musicians take a short break. I can’t help but study him. His profile is stunning, with high cheekbones and a smattering of golden stubble along his sharp jaw. He’s wearing a black button-down with the sleeves rolled about a third of the way up his muscular forearms. He has multiple tattoos peeking out from each sleeve and the hint of one beneath the collar of his shirt. I’m certain he remains buttoned up at the hospital to prevent the administration from knowing about them. His ink might tarnish the image they’re trying to create of the ivy league surgeon extraordinaire.

“I can’t help but notice. You seem very different from how you were at work the other day,” he says without looking in my direction.

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