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.“He’s such a great kid.Maybe it’s because it all happened when he was so young, but he seems to just take everything as it comes, ya know? He acts like every other kid his age, I think.He loves baseball, the Avengers—the Hulk in particular—and he desperately wants a dog for his birthday.”She nodded over her wine glass.“I thought about them a lot over the years.”He didn’t want to have this conversation.Dredging up old misery wasn’t what he wanted for this evening.They’d already gone over this stuff the other day.Unable to help himself, he changed the subject to the other conversational trap left uninvestigated.“Tell me about school.How was Scotland?”“Hard.Cold.Wet.” She laughed, but it was the laugh of someone who didn’t get the giant innuendo she’d tossed out there.“It was everything I wanted and hoped it would be.I loved it.”Lee felt his jaw tense.He finished his wine in one big gulp.They were in desperate need of another topic change.“So you’re living with your parents?” That was the safest topic he could think of.“How long do you plan to do that?”She rolled her eyes, crinkled her nose, then shook her head.“I just wanted to get settled, pass my boards, all that heavy stuff, before I had to find somewhere to live.It seemed like a good idea at the time, but they’re driving me crazy.Dad is always working.He’s the vet for the horse track besides running the clinic and he’s not there to be a buffer with my mom.I think she’s decided I’m her next project.That means she’s trying to set me up on dates and marry me off so she can have grandchildren.Apparently, it hasn’t occurred to her that she has five other children to pester.” She paused while he refilled their glasses.“I don’t know how much more I can stand, to be honest.I might have to start looking for an apartment very soon.”“I might have a lead for you.”“Really.What’s the deal?” Calamari disappeared behind her lips.“You remember Marisol?”“You mean every man’s wet dream? The gorgeous woman from dinner? The sports writer with the lilting accent? The one you say isn’t your girlfriend? I vaguely remember her.Why?”“Okay, okay.” He laughed.“She isn’t my girlfriend.Never has been.To clarify, we went out on a couple of dates.Never slept together.We’re just friends.”“Out of curiosity, how did you meet her?”“Through Holly.They’ve been best friends since college.” The conversation paused while they ordered dinner—grilled sea bass for him and linguine with shrimp scampi for her.“Anyway, she’s got a two-bedroom condo, and she’s out of town all the time for work.Her previous roommate was her cousin, but he’s moved out of town so now she thinks she can make me watch her cat every time she’s gone.You saw how well that worked out the first time.”“How is Jose?”“Feline.”“What does that mean?”“It means he ignores me unless I’m ignoring him.Then he slashes my leg as I walk by.”She smirked.“You have a real way with cats.”They got into a steady rhythm of conversation until their food arrived.They sampled each other’s meals and got another bottle of wine.He was enjoying himself.He hadn’t been sure they’d be able to slip back into the comfortable place they’d had before, but they had—so long as none of the hot-button topics came up.He wasn’t drunk but he was relaxed and once or twice tuned out her story about a patient or a book she’d read to watch her lips as she spoke, or the animated way she moved her hands while she talked.Her eyes always seemed to be laughing.Once she’d slipped her index finger into her mouth to lick off some butter.When the tip of her tongue flicked out and licked her lips, he’d had to adjust the napkin in his lap.They were mulling over the dessert menu and he was congratulating himself on an excellent first date when she brought up Scotland again and it all went to crap.* * *Things were going really well.All the anxiety Candace had felt before the date had completely faded.Lee was charming and sexy and funny.She was relaxed and turned on and just a little bit tipsy.She played with her wine glass and he watched her fingers.He fixated on her lips when she spoke.All the signs were there.And then she ruined the night.She’d been telling him about her favorite bookstore in Glasgow and how the owner, a tiny little Scot named McMillan, kept cats in his store.“I really wish I could have taken you there.It was called Heather and Thistle—those were the names of his cats.Two ancient old tabbies.Even you would have loved them.McMillan didn’t care if you stayed for hours to look at the books.He had these comfortable chairs in all these nooks and he made tea.Thistle loved to sit on your lap.” She sighed at the memory.She had been so busy with school that she didn’t often have the opportunity to do anything as luxurious as having tea and a book with a snuggly kitty.“Yeah, well.”His tone pulled her out of her reverie; the sweetness of the reminiscence slipped away in a rush
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