Just One of the Guys(57)

I pause. “Um, yes. Yes, I do. My neighbor’s dog. Very naughty beast. Bad, Buttercup.”

“You tell those people there are leash laws in Eaton Falls,” Yorkie Man says.

“I certainly will,” I say. “You’re a disgrace, Buttercup. Your owners will be so ashamed.”

“Thanks for your help, ma’am,” Trevor says to me. I feel his smile right into my bone marrow.

“Come on, Puffy,” the man says, turning around and heading back from whence he came. “Poor Puffy. You were scared, weren’t you?”

“Scared isn’t the word I’d use,” Matt comments, joining Trev and me. He eyes the tiny dog, who twists and whines in his master’s arms, struggling to return to Buttercup. “Puffy had it covered.”

“Imagine their children.” Trevor laughs, kneeling to stroke my dog.

Ryan comes over to me and, to my surprise, puts his arm around my shoulders. In all the excitement, I had almost forgotten about him.

“Ryan! Hey, have you met my brother? This is Matt.” They shake hands.

“Sorry about this, Chas,” Matt says. “Lucky went out to call Tara, and your horny little dog dashed out.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” I say. “Makes for a memorable night, wouldn’t you say, Ryan?”

“Absolutely,” Ryan answers, and suddenly, I feel a rush of affection for him. After all, he was a great sport, wasn’t he? I take his hand in mine, and he smiles.

“You can get her back, right, boys?” I ask.

“Sure, Chas,” Trevor answers. “You kids have a nice night.”

AFTER A MUCH-NEEDED SECOND glass of wine back at Emo’s, Ryan asks me if I’d like to come back to his place. The surreal feeling of being with him returns as he opens the door to his condo. It’s a sleek, stylish place in a renovated mill building. The windows face upriver, away from the energy plant. Dark-stained wood floors gleam, the oriental carpet glows with jewel tones. A fireplace takes up an entire wall, and it’s all very modern and clean, just what you’d imagine for a surgeon.

“What a lovely place,” I say.

“Thank you,” Ryan says. “Can I take your jacket?” He does, then goes in the kitchen and opens a cabinet. “What kind of wine would you like, Chastity? I’ve got a very nice pinot, a gorgeous New Zealand chardonnay, some cabernet…”

“Oh, um, you pick,” I say. My heart is beating a little fast, and I swallow. The truth is, I’m nervous. I haven’t dated much, haven’t had a steady boyfriend in a while. Haven’t been back to a man’s place in an age. I wonder if all my parts still work.

There are some black-and-white photos on the wall, mostly of buildings, though one of a snowy field. “Did you take these pictures?” I ask.

“Oh, no. My decorator bought them. Glad you like them, though,” he says, handing me a glass of white. “Would you like to sit down?”

We sit on the sumptuous leather couch. Ryan picks up a remote control, pushes a button, and voilà! We have a fire. “Very nice,” I say, taking a sip of the wine.

He pushes a lock of my hair behind my ear and smiles. I smile back. My knees tingle. He moves a little closer. More tingling. His arm slides along the back of the couch, his hand moves to the back of my head. Then he leans in and kisses my neck, sending little shivers down my side.

“So, Ryan, okay,” I blurt. “I have to ask this…sorry.” I shift a little so I can better see his face. “Ryan, you’re a gorgeous man, you’re a doctor—”

“Surgeon,” he corrects with a smile.

“Right! A surgeon, a trauma surgeon…um, why aren’t you married?”

He sits back and frowns. “It’s a valid question,” he says. “Honestly, Chastity, I always felt that work came first. It’s not easy to become a surgeon—”

“Oh, I know,” I smile. “I watch Grey’s Anatomy every week.” He doesn’t deign to respond. “Sorry. Go on,” I mumble, looking at my high-tops.

He glances at his wine glass, held loosely in his beautiful hands. “I always felt that a serious relationship wouldn’t be advisable while I was so immersed in my residency, or in establishing my career.” He shifts his gaze to me. “Now that’s done.” He raises an eyebrow. “And I’ve met you.”

I blush, pleased. “I guess I’m surprised you didn’t meet anyone else at the hospital, from your residency, maybe?” I suggest. “Like McDreamy and Meredith?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, but his tone is fond. “But I wouldn’t want to marry another doctor. One in the family is enough.”

“Oh,” I say. “And why is that?”

“It’s a demanding career,” he says simply. “When it comes to having children, I think it’s best to have at least one parent who can devote a lot of time to them.” He pauses, his eyes dropping to my mouth. His voice lowers. “Any more questions?”

“Um…no,” I whisper. The tingling returns.

“Can I kiss you now?”

“Sure,” I whisper, and he does. He kisses me, a very nice, skilled, gentle kiss. I pull back, set my wine glass on the coffee table, and take another look at him. “Any pets?” I ask.