Protecting What's Mine(36)

Fuck. He was going to have to turn off his water heater to get through having her in his backyard yet still untouchable.

He became aware of Ellen looking back and forth between them like she was observing a Wimbledon match.

She noticed him noticing and nodded pointedly in Mack’s direction. “Dr. Mack, you’re not seeing anyone, are you?” she asked innocently.

“Uh. No,” Mack said with suspicion.

“You know, Linc here is a real catch,” Ellen said.

“So I’ve heard,” Mack said dryly.

“It’s true,” Linc said, snagging a cherry tomato off her plate. “You’d be doing yourself a disservice by not at least going out with me once.”

“Linc is the best at first dates. You know?”

He grinned at Ellen. This was, in his opinion, one of the best things about life in Benevolence. Even his old girlfriends were invested in his happiness.

“Uh-oh,” Ellen said, sending him a conspiratorial wink. “I think Barry’s calling me again. I should probably be getting home. Here, Linc. You can finish my drink.”

She stood up and heaved her giant purse onto her shoulder. It probably weighed nearly as much as his turnout gear, Linc guessed.

“I don’t hear your phone,” Mack said.

“Oh, I put it on vibrate.” She shook her bag. “There it goes again. Thanks for girls’ night, Dr. Mack. I’ll see you next month.”

“She did not just get a phone call,” Mack said, watching her go.

Linc picked up Ellen’s abandoned margarita, took a sip, and winced. “I think she was subtly trying to give us some alone time.”

“Are all of your old girlfriends this happy to fix you up with new ones?”

He thought about it and reached for a wing. Mack slapped his hand away. “Mine.”

Grinning, he helped himself to the last one on Ellen’s plate.

“Maybe not all of them. But a strong majority.”

“What was your ugliest breakup?” she asked.

“Uh-uh, Dreamy. That’s first date conversation.”

She polished off the wing while studying him.

“Why isn’t this a date?” she asked. “There’s food. Alcohol. We’re having a conversation. I’m valiantly trying to resist your flirtatious charm.” She ticked off the dating requirements on her fingers as she licked the hot sauce from them.

Linc was fairly certain he’d never been more turned on in his entire life. He picked up his beer to give his hands something to do besides ease the ache in his monster hard-on or reach out and touch Dr. Dreamy.

“This is the flirtation leading up to the first date,” he explained. “A Lincoln Reed First Date isn’t a spontaneous run-in. A Lincoln Reed First Date is a carefully curated experience designed for maximum enjoyment.”

She laughed loud and long and got impossibly prettier.

“Now I’m really curious,” she told him, cupping her chin in her hand.

“There’s only one way to find out what it’s like to date me,” he said, lifting his beer at her. “All you have to do is say yes.”

Her sigh was long. “I want you to know that I’m tempted. Very tempted. But.”

The word hung in the air between them. He wondered if she knew she was leaning into him, that her leg was pressing against his.

“But?” he prodded.

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“I need a change of pace.”

Need, not want, he noted.

“Tell me?”

She paused and took a sip of her wine.

“You know the feel of a big call? When you’re in the middle of it, and it’s life and death and you’re on autopilot getting it done?”

He nodded. “Yeah. The buzz. That shot of adrenaline, and you’re like outside of time.”

“Exactly. I like it. No, that’s not true. I crave it,” she admitted, running an index finger around the mouth of her wineglass.

“We all do to some extent.”

“True. But for me, it’s a problem.”

He nodded, waiting.

“My hands started shaking,” she admitted. “Then I stopped sleeping.”

“Burnout.”

“Burnout. Adrenal fatigue. Worse, those highs were the only time I felt anything.”

He took a chance and reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away but sat there considering their intertwined fingers.

And damn did it feel natural.

“What makes you feel numb, Dreamy?”

She shook her head. “Uh-uh. That’s first date conversation.”

Hell. He was going to fall hard for this woman, and it was going to hurt.

“Okay,” he said. “So burnout comes knocking, and you decide a lifestyle overhaul is necessary.”

“And here I am.” She gestured with her free hand. “Goodbye, Afghanistan. Hello, Benevolence.”

“Trading hot zone trauma medicine for small-town country doctoring,” he summarized.

“Bingo. I couldn’t even stick it out a few more years for retirement. I processed out.”

He tightened his grip on her hand. “And that pisses you off.”