The Pairing (The Proposition #3)(50)

Glancing over his menu at her, Pesh said, “With the cuisine being Southern, I imagined you would like it.”

“I love all types of food. Trust me, as hungry as I am now, I would have eaten anywhere.”

The waiter returned with their wine, and Megan knew she needed to make a decision. “I’ll have the shrimp and grits, please.”

“Very good, ma’am,” the waiter replied.

“I’ll have the same,” Pesh said, handing the waiter his menu. When Megan grinned at him, his brows rose. “What?”

“I’m just surprised to hear you eating something so Southern as shrimp and grits.”

He tsked at her. “When will you learn that you can never pigeonhole me as one thing or the other?”

She laughed. “Actually, I like that you’re proving me wrong and being unexpected.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “Sometimes I feel like people try to do the same thing to me. People have their own assumptions about girls or women who get knocked up. I hope I constantly prove them wrong.”

“I’m sure you do.” After taking a sip of his wine, he cocked his head at her. “Prove me wrong on this one. Does a Southern girl like you eat Indian food?”

“Oh yes, I love it.”

His dark eyes lit up. “What’s your favorite dish?”

“Hmm, I love Butter Chicken, but I’m also a fan of Pav Bahaji.”

“I’m impressed. Emma had never eaten any Indian food, and I don’t think I made a good impression on her.” Pesh’s chuckle died out, and he immediately grimaced at the mention of Emma’s name.

Knowing that they were dancing around the white elephant in the room, Megan reached across the table and patted his hand. “It’s okay that you’re talking about Emma.”

“Speaking of old girlfriends or women you’ve dated while you’re with another woman is never a good idea.”

“This is different. Emma is my family.” She swirled the wine around in her glass. “I’ve heard her side of the story, but I don’t think I’ve heard yours.”

“You heard a little when you were inebriated the night of Noah’s baptism.”

Now it was Megan’s turn to grimace. “I still would like to know.”

Pesh drew in a ragged breath. When the waiter appeared with their salads, it appeared that he might dodge the question entirely. But once they were alone together, he smiled. “Emma came along at a time when I was facing extreme pressure from family and friends to move on from my grief and date again. There was no escape to it—I faced it at the hospital, as well as when I was at home. People seemed to think that once a year went by on the calendar that meant I was through with my mourning. Then one day, there she was in the ER. She was scared out of her mind about your grandfather. Somehow I just connected with her through her grief and pain.” He dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “She reminded me so much of Jade that it was easy to try to imagine that what I was feeling for her was romantic. I hadn’t been out in so long that I wanted to woo her, just like I wanted to you.”

“And Aidan came between you?”

“In a way, both he and Jade did.”

“What do you mean?”

Pesh laughed. “Let’s just say, during a very heated moment together, she was with Aidan, and I was with Jade.”

Megan was surprised by his candor. “I see.” There was one item in the Pesh and Emma equation she had always wondered about. “You didn’t mind that she was pregnant?”

Shaking his head, Pesh replied, “It just made her even more beautiful to me. I’d been through so much death that I guess I was drawn to her because she had life growing within her.”

“That’s really beautiful,” Megan murmured.

He gave her a mirthless laugh. “One of my worst character faults is having a hero complex. I guess it’s one of the reasons I became a doctor. I saw Emma, and I wanted to save her. When she had to go on bed rest, I wanted to be her knight in shining armor.”

“Being a hero is not exactly a bad character trait.”

“It is when you can’t save someone, and you have to constantly live with the guilt.”

Megan’s heart ached at the pain on his face. Sensing she needed to lighten the mood, she teased, “I’m glad to hear you actually have a bad character trait. I mean, you seemed a little too perfect to me.”

A shadow of a smile played on his lips. “Did I mention I’m a terrible slob?”

“You? Never,” she replied.

“Oh yes. If I didn’t have a housekeeper, I’m pretty sure I might end up on World’s Nastiest Houses.”

Megan laughed. “I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s the truth. I also have no athletic ability whatsoever.”

After chewing thoughtfully on her bite of salad, Megan said, “But you’re built like a football player.”

“I’m built because I go to the gym to work off stress. But if you put me on the field, I’d be a serious disappointment.”

She shook her head. “That doesn’t turn me off at all. I’ve had my fill of jocks.”

“Oh?” he questioned. Although he was trying to be nonchalant about it, she knew he wanted to hear the full story.