Finally, when Sloane couldn’t keep it inside anymore, she leaned in and lowered her voice, saying the one thing she knew Catherine couldn’t resist. “Come on, Catherine. I dare you.”
Catherine’s fingers tightened around her coffee cup. “Fine,” she said, keeping her voice even. “One more dinner.”
Inside, Sloane glowed, and as much as she tried to keep it inside, her eyes sparkled as light filled her. She kept her gaze trained on Catherine as she walked away, crumpling the empty coffee cup and tossing it in a trash can.
After Catherine rounded the corner, Sloane picked up the canvas and headed to the pediatric ward, an extra bounce in her step.
The outdoor market was alive with sound and movement, a symphony of colors and voices weaving together in an inviting energy. Strings of warm fairy lights crisscrossed above the vendor staff, casting a soft glow over the cobbled pathways. The aroma of sizzling food, fresh herbs, and something sweet and spiced filled the air, mingling with the distant sound of a jazz band playing on a makeshift stage. Sloane stopped at a stall where a woman was flipping fresh arepas on a griddle, the golden corn sandwich pouches sizzling as they browned. She turned toward Catherine, tilting her head with a grin.
"See? This isn’t so painful, is it?"
Catherine lifted a single, unimpressed brow. "I haven’t decided yet."
Sloane laughed, leaning one elbow against the wooden stall. "Well, let’s find out. What’s your stance on adventure?"
Catherine’s lips pressed together. "I’m a surgeon. I prefer structure."
"Which is a very fancy way of saying you hate surprises."
"Not hate. I just prefer to avoid unnecessary risks."
Sloane’s grin widened, mischief glinting in her eyes. "Perfect. Then let’s make this interesting." She gestured toward the foodstalls. "You try three different things, and you have to guess the ingredients. If you get at least one right, I’ll buy you dinner."
Catherine gave her a long, considering look. "And if I don’t?"
"Then you buy me dinner."
Catherine exhaled through her nose, her gaze narrowing. "Fine," she said smoothly. "But don’t expect me to enjoy it."
Sloane laughed heartily. "I wouldn’t dare."
She led them to a nearby stand where a small Peruvian woman was frying golden, crispy croquettes. Sloane ordered a few, handing one to Catherine with a flourish.
Catherine took it delicately, inspecting it before taking a small bite.
Sloane watched her intently. "Well?"
Catherine chewed thoughtfully, then swallowed. "Potatoes. A hint of cumin. And…something smoky. Maybe smoked paprika?"
Sloane pressed a hand to her heart. "She guesses! And here I was thinking you had no culinary soul."
Catherine shot her a flat look. "That was a lucky guess."
"Sure it was, sweetheart."
They moved through the market, stopping at different stalls, the challenge turning into something lighter, flirtier. Sloane kept her close, her fingers occasionally brushing against Catherine’s wrist, her voice dropping just a little lower whenever she leaned in to tease her.
By the time they reached the last stall, Catherine had loosened, just slightly. There was the ghost of amusement in her expression, a softening at the corners of her mouth that Sloane found addictive.
It was at a small vendor selling handmade leather goods that Sloane finally made her move.
She picked up a small, dark brown leather journal, the cover soft and well-crafted, the pages thick and unlined.
She turned, held it out to Catherine without hesitation.
Catherine blinked. "What is this?"
Sloane grinned. "Another challenge."
