Page 23 of Healing Hearts
“Trevor? It’s Brooke,” I say, trying to sound composed. “I found your flowers. They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like them,” he replies, and I can almost hear the smile in his voice. “I was hoping you’d call. I’m sorry about missing coffee yesterday.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say, twirling a strand of hair like a teenager. “Saving lives trumps coffee, every time.”
He chuckles, a low, warm sound that makes my heart flutter. “I was thinking I owe you something better than just coffee. How about dinner? I’ve got a boat in the marina. You don't get seasick, do you?”
A dinner date on a boat? It’s like something out of one of my novels. “That sounds... perfect,” I manage, my mind racing. “And, no, I don’t get seasick. Couldn't rightfully call myself a true Floridian if I did, now could I?” I laugh.
“Good,” Trevor says, relief and excitement lacing his voice. “How about tomorrow at seven?”
“I’d love to,” I say, but then pause, a playful glint sparking within me. “Only on one condition, though.”
“Oh?” His tone is teasing, intrigued. “What’s that?”
“Promise me you won’t be quite so chivalrous this time,” I say, surprising myself with the boldness, letting out my inner Sophie Quinn. “I appreciate it, but... well, a girl likes to know where she stands with a guy.”
His laughter is rich and genuine. “Alright. I promise to dial it back. But just a little. My mother raised a gentleman.”
“Deal,” I say, grinning.
"Oh, and Brooke?" His voice drops an octave lower.
"Yes?" I ask on trembling breath at the sound of his voice going straight to my core.
"You don't have to wonder where you stand with me...ever. You have no idea how hard that was to walk away the other night. But next time..." he pauses, "I won't. Promise."
I hesitate and then like I did making the run the other day at the game, I tumble all over myself trying to find the right words to say. "Oh...um...okay."
His laughter is deep and does something to me I'm not sure I've ever felt before. "See you tomorrow at seven, Brooke." He hangs up and I just stand there in the school parking lot, holding a bouquet of hibiscus flowers looking around to see if anyone else notices how completely idiotic my last sentence - if you can call it that – was – or how hot and bothered I am.
Really, Brooke. You're a bestselling author and the best you could come up with is'Oh. Um. Okay’.
Girl, you're gonna need to up your game by tomorrow night.
The soft glow of candlelight dances across Trevor's face as he pours the wine, highlighting the strong line of his jaw. My breath catches as our fingers brush when he hands me the glass.
"This is incredible," I say, gesturing to the elegant table set for two on the deck of his boat. The gentle rocking of the waves and twinkling lights of the harbor create a dreamlike ambiance.
Trevor's eyes crinkle as he smiles. "I'm glad you like it. I wanted tonight to be special."
My heart flutters at his words. As we sit down to eat, I can't help but marvel at how different this Trevor isfrom the guarded doctor I first met. There was boyish charm to him then, a hint of vulnerability, but tonight… he’s all man.
"So, Dr. Jacobs," I say, leaning in conspiratorially. "Were you always destined for medicine, or did you have any other secret aspirations?"
He chuckles, a rich sound that sends a shiver down my spine. "Actually, I originally planned to be a jazz saxophonist."
"No way!" I exclaim, genuinely surprised. "I never would have guessed." The thought of his fingers caressing the instrument, his lips tasting the mouthpiece…suddenly my cheeks are blushing and I’m a bit uncomfortable sitting in this chair. Discreetly, I try to adjust myself to relieve some of the pressure in my core. I imagine Trevor's strong hands coaxing sultry notes from a gleaming saxophone. The image is unexpectedly alluring. I take a large sip of wine to cool my suddenly flushed cheeks.
Who knew musicians turned me on? Or maybe it’s just one particular musician.
Trevor nods, a wistful look crossing his face. "Music was my first love. I spent every spare moment practicing, dreaming of smoky clubs and soulful melodies."
"What changed?" I ask softly, captivated by this glimpse into his past.
He takes a sip of wine before answering. "I realized I could help more people as a doctor. Don't get me wrong, music heals in its own way, but I wanted to make a tangible difference, you know?"
I nod, admiring his selflessness even as I wonder if he regrets his choice. "Do you still play?"
