“I am. Do you prefer red or white?”
He shrugged. “Either is fine. I’m not a big wine drinker, but Daphne likes it, so I sometimes have a glass of whatever she’s having.”
“Oh,” I said, immediately wondering who in the hell Daphne the wine drinker was. “Do you know what kind she likes?”
“Not a clue. I could text her and ask,” he said.
I waved my hand dismissively. “I’ll just open a bottle of my favorite. If you don’t care for it, I have some others to choose from.”
“Unless it’s something really out there, I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he said and lowered his voice. “They all kind of taste the same to me.”
I laughed at his confession. “That’s probably because she only drinks a certain kind.” I opened a bottle and poured him a glass. “Here. Try this.” I watched intently as he brought the glass to his lips and took a sip. And holy shit, the man had a sexy mouth.
“That’s good,” he said, setting the glass down and licking his lips. “You said this is your favorite?” At my nod, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the bottle. A few moments later, his phone dinged with a text. “Daphne wants to know where she can find that wine.”
“Oh, it’s from the winery downtown. I used to work with the woman who owns it,” I said, and started chopping the vegetables.
“Do you need any help?” he asked.
“Not at the moment,” I said and took a sip of wine. I was dying to ask who Daphne was, but I didn’t want to seem nosy … or, well … jealous.
I was trying to think of something to ask him about himself when his phone dinged with another message. He smiled broadly and held the phone out to show me. I looked at the photo of the adorable baby on the screen, as well as the accompanying message that said, “Hello, Uncle Ink,” before I glanced at the top of the screen to see who the text was from—Daphne. “Aw, she’s precious. How old is she?”
“Four months,” he said.
“And she’s your niece?” I asked.
“Technically, she’s my goddaughter. Her dad is like my brother, so they refer to me as Uncle Ink,” he explained.
“Do you have any kids?”
“No, but I hope to one day,” he said.
I swallowed wrong and coughed a horrible hacking cough that made my face turn red and my eyes water. To my surprise, Ink remained where he was sitting and waited until I stopped coughing to ask, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, sounding hoarse. “I think so.”
My face conveyed my confusion without my consent, causing him to chuckle. “Don’t look at me like that. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard Gabby say, ‘If they’re making noise, they’re moving air. Leave them alone unless the noise stops.’”
“She’s not wrong,” I said.
“She usually isn’t, but don’t tell her I said that.”
“She was great with Ariel and the girls. We don’t see Dr. Vaughn as much as we used to now that he has his own practice, but he was always great to work with in the ER.”
His forehead wrinkled in confusion. “Oh, Patch,” he said. “Yeah, he’s a good guy and a great doctor.”
“I’m glad I wasn’t working the night he got shot. It’s different when it’s someone you know.”
“Yeah, that was a tough night, but it turned out okay,” he said. “Were you working when Daphne came in with the mushroom poisoning?”
“Thatwas your friend?”
“Yep.”
“I was there, but she wasn’t my patient. I was a little disappointed that she wasn’t assigned to me. We don’t get stuff like that very often. I assume she’s doing okay now?”
“She’s fine. She was sick as hell for a few weeks, though.”
