Page 20 of Tempted By the Handsome Doctor

Daniel chokes on a surprised laugh. "When you put it that way..." He sobers slightly. "For what it's worth, I do. Like you."

"I like you too. When you're not being an emotionally unavailable jerk who disappears after sex."

"Harsh but fair." He winces, but there's humor in his eyes. "In my defense, it was really good sex."

"So good you ran away?" I raise an eyebrow, enjoying the flush that creeps up his neck.

"So good it scared the hell out of me," he corrects, his voice dropping lower. "I'm not used to feeling that... connected to someone."

The honesty in his voice steals my next teasing remark. I look away, suddenly self-conscious. "Me neither."

We've reached the central area of the festival again, where the band has resumed playing, this time an upbeat cover of a pop song I vaguely recognize. The dance area is packed now, with people moving with enthusiastic, if not always rhythmic, energy.

"Want to dance again?" Daniel asks.

I shake my head. "I think I've had enough public exposure for one day. Besides—" I check my watch "—I should probably head home soon."

Chapter 8 - Daniel

"Can I drive you home?" The question slips out before I can overthink it, casual but hopeful. "Or we could walk, if you'd prefer. It's a nice evening."

Maya considers me for a moment, her dark eyes thoughtful. She's still holding the tissue-wrapped scarf I bought her, fingers absently tracing the edge of the paper.

"Sure," she says finally. "A ride would be nice. I walked here, and my feet are starting to hate me for it."

Relief washes through me, though I try not to show how much her acceptance means. "My car's just outside the south entrance."

We make our way through the festival crowd, which is now thicker as the afternoon stretches toward evening. I place a hand at the small of Maya's back to guide her through a particularly dense cluster of people and wonder if I've overstepped. But she doesn't pull away; she just glances up with a small smile that makes my heart stutter in my chest.

The Audi is exactly where I left it, gleaming gunmetal gray in the slanted afternoon light. I unlock it with a click of the key fob and open the passenger door for Maya.

"Still think it's too flashy for Cedar Falls?" I ask, remembering her comment from the diner.

"Absolutely." She slides into the leather seat. "But I have to admit, it's a beautiful car."

I close her door and walk around to the driver's side, oddly pleased by the concession. When I get in, she's running a hand over the dashboard.

"Dad would have loved this," she says. "He was a Toyota loyalist to the core, but he secretly drooled over sports cars."

"What kind?" I ask, starting the engine. It purrs to life with a satisfying rumble.

"Corvettes, mostly. He had a whole collection of model ones." Her voice turns wistful. "They're still on a shelf in his study. I couldn't bear to pack them away."

I navigate out of the crowded parking area, "Where to?"

"Willow Lane," she says. "The little blue cottage at the end, number seventeen."

I know the street—a quiet, tree-lined road of modest older homes on the east side of town, not far from the library. It's the kind of neighborhood where people still put out flags on the Fourth of July and bring casseroles when someone gets sick.

"I grew up on Orchard Street," I tell her as we drive. "Just a few blocks over."

"In Lou's house, right?"

I nod. "Same house he's in now. He refused to move even after his knee got bad and the stairs became a challenge."

"Stubborn," Maya observes.

"Runs in the family, apparently." I flash her a quick smile before returning my eyes to the road.

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