I grew up in a manner in which fear was just a part of my daily life. You either let it overwhelm you and take you out, or you made the daily choice to live through it, survive anyway you could until you were able to get out.
I could go up against an opponent twice my size in a cage-style fighting ring without an ounce of fear over what will happen to me, or even the potential harm it could bring to my professional goals.
I say all of this because it truly astounded me the fear that rose up in my gut when I spotted the text from Dr. Mitchell’s office on Grace’s phone. I knew Dr. Mitchell to be a top-notch oncologist in Williamsport. I’d even operated on a few of her patients who had mastectomies and other procedures as part of their cancer battles. What frightened me even more was the fact that Grace hadn’t brought her appointment up.
Sure, I was well aware of the fact that even patients in remission had to have annual appointments with their oncologists as a precaution. However, logic and even my extensive medical knowledge didn’t suffice in the face of my fear, that perhaps Grace’s cancer had returned. That fear had threatened to strip all of my common sense and ability to think straight, which was already growing questionable in the face of recent events.
I still wasn’t over my father being so fucking close to me, or seeing Luke a few weeks ago. And though my father remained out of my hair for the most part, as his team did whatever the hell they were doing, I still knew he was around. I could still feel his eyes watching me whenever I passed him in the hallway. The dumb fuck was waiting it out, hoping that I’d come to my senses and want to be a part of his life. To ask him how his wife was doing and go see her. It’d be a cold day in hell before that happened.
“What are you thinking about?”
I was yanked from my thoughts by Grace’s question. I peered across the table, the pungent scent of the Indian food spread out in front of us rising to my nose but not detracting from the gut punch that struck me every time I looked at Grace’s smile. Those dimples were deep enough for me to fall into. And, who the hell had I become?
“I’m thinking we should’ve taken this food to go because you’re wearing too many clothes right now.” I didn’t even blink as I told her the truth, my hand moving across the table, covering hers.
Her head dipped and I remembered how when I first laid eyes on her and that lifted chin as she stared me down, without the slightest bit of intimidation, I would’ve never guessed she could appear this demure. And, unlike what I found with some other women, it wasn’t a put on.
“We’re celebrating.”
“Goddamn right we are, and I’m even more anxious to get home and celebrate with my di—”
“Dr. Reynolds and Grace, how nice it is to see you here.”
My frown was instantaneous as the annoying and familiar voice of Suzanne interrupted me telling Grace all the ways I was looking forward to stripping her naked and celebrating the good news of her test scans, all night long.
I turned my head to the right, glaring at the woman smiling down on us expectantly. Her eyes were cast in my direction. I barely paid her a glance and let my gaze shift to her left. There was a man standing next to her.
“Suzanne,” Grace responded. “How great to run into you tonight.” She sounded about as grateful as I was at that moment.
“Isn’t it? This is my brother, Glen,” she introduced as if either one of us gave a fuck.
Again, I gave no reaction.
“He’s only a few months shy of completing his RN degree. He wants to be a surgical nurse just like his older sister.” She smiled at the man who had yet to speak. “Anyway, I told him about the opening at Memorial and that if he worked there, he would get the opportunity to work with world class surgeons such as yourself, Dr. Reynolds.”
The conversation would’ve been annoying enough if Suzanne had left it at that. But at the very least, I would’ve easily dismissed and forgotten ever seeing her if she just walked off. But she didn’t do that. No. The woman—and I’m using that term extremely loosely—had the audacity to lower her hand and run her fingertips along my bare forearm. I immediately pulled back my arm, anger rising in my stomach.
“Maybe you should keep your hands to yourself.” Those tight words came from Grace, who responded before I got the chance to.
Suzanne seemed startled for a second as she looked between Grace and me. But it was a put on, the woman was pretending.
“My apologies, Jacob, I tend to be the affectionate type with everyone. Right, Glen?”
And for the first time, the man beside her spoke. “Yep. She’s always been like that.” Then he let out the most awkward laugh I’d ever heard.
“Enjoy your dinner. And it’s Dr. Reynolds,” I retorted, dismissing the both of them before turning my attention back to Grace, who appeared to be as annoyed as I felt.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Suzanne hesitated but then tapped her brother with her elbow and made a jerking motion with her head. The two headed off in a different direction, where I didn’t give a shit. As long as they were away from us.
“I think you were right.”
I lifted an eyebrow.
“We definitely should’ve taken this to go. My mood to be alone with you has grown two-fold.”
“It’s not too late,” I began at the same time I raised my arm to call our waiter over. “We’ll be taking this to go.”
Our young waiter nodded and left to retrieve the containers that we’d carry most of our uneaten meal in.
