A Surgeon to Heal Her Heart

Good grief. The man was incorrigible. And so gorgeous. And so out of her reach. Still, the way he made her feel was addictive, like a magic spell that gave everything a shiny glow.

A shiny glow she’d like to bask in, but life had other plans for her. Plans that didn’t include time for a dalliance with the most intriguing man she’d ever met.

She arched a brow and shook her head. “Some would say eavesdropping was rude, you know?”

His left dimple dug a little deeper. “I’m part of the conversation now.”

She rolled her eyes upward. “Not by my choice.”

He laughed. “You saying I’m holding you here against your will?”

Carly shrugged. “Obviously not. If you’ll excuse me?” She went to push past him.

“I won’t.”

Eyes wide, Carly stopped, met his for once serious gaze. “Pardon?”

“I won’t excuse you,” he clarified. “Not this time. Eavesdropping was rude. You’re right. But since I was the topic of conversation, surely I’m forgiven for jumping in?”

Her insides shook so that she still might end up spilling those meds she held yet. “There’s no rule that says I have to forgive you for butting into my conversation.”

“Even when the conversation is about me?”

“Especially when the conversation is about you.”

He chuckled. “You should have dinner with me tonight and let me convince you to forgive my so-called rudeness. Plus, we can discuss why my having the hots for you doesn’t matter because it matters a great deal to me.”

Guilt hit Carly. This was her fault. She should have put a stop to whatever sparks Rosalyn said were flying between them but she’d not dared to believe he was really interested in her.

Sure, he’d gone out of his way to start conversations, asking her things he could have asked any hospital employee. He’d sat back in the break room with her a few times while she’d quickly swallowed down whatever she’d packed from home.

His sitting with her while she ate should have made her horribly uncomfortable, but instead she’d found herself regretting how quickly her short lunch break had slipped by while they’d talked. He’d asked about her favorite parts of Memphis and, drawing upon her childhood and college memories, she’d told him. No need to tell him that for five years she’d not been to any of those places. Surely, they hadn’t changed that much in such a short time?

Then again, she’d changed that much.

Aged a hundred years, at least.

But for all that, she’d thought their interactions innocent. She’d figured Stone had svelte, glamorous women lined up in droves out there in the real world. Talking with Carly was just a fun way to pass time when he was at work.

Had she really believed that?

Or had she refused to believe anything else because she enjoyed his attention and hadn’t wanted to give it up?

She didn’t lead on men when she had no intentions of following through. So if he was interested then, yeah, she had to put a halt to it right now.

Carly’s throat tightened as she said, “Our discussing that would be an utter waste of both of our time.”

“I’ve time to spare.”

“That makes one of us.” She seriously doubted he had much time to spare, either.

His dark brow arched. “You’re too busy to go to dinner with me tonight?”

“Absolutely.” She took off toward her patient’s room, but he stayed in step beside her.

“Tomorrow night?”

“Busy.”

Her answer seemed to waylay him for a few seconds, but then, still beside her, he asked, “Surely you make time to eat, Carly? I’ll take you to the restaurant of your choice and promise to have you home at a decent hour.” He waggled his brows and gave another crooked smile. “Unless you want me to keep you out past bedtime, that is.”

Oh, my. Not going to happen… But, oh, my, oh, my, oh, my.

She ate in quick snatches after getting home, usually soup or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while Joyce filled her in on the day’s events.

Carly liked uneventful days.

Days in which her mother didn’t have any angry outbursts or falls or screams of pain or significant declines in her failing health. It had been so long since Carly had eaten out at a restaurant that she didn’t have a favorite. Money was tight. Eating out was expensive. There would be time for such luxuries later, after her mother’s life succumbed to her illness.

Just as there would be time for relationships. For real relationships and smiles and going to restaurants with handsome men.

The odds of a man as fabulous as Stone ever asking her to dinner again was next to nil, but, even so, dinner dates, or staying out past bedtime, had to wait.