It took her a minute to be able to speak. “Very. It was my grandma’s.” She opened the locket and looked at the picture of herself, the happiest she’d ever been in her life up to that point because they’d just gone to see The Nutcracker. “It’s the only thing I have of her.” She paused. “Actually, it’s the only thing I have of my childhood.”
“I’m glad you’ve got it back.” Reaching out, he gently touched the fading bruise on her jaw. “You’re really okay?”
“Yes.” She looked at the healing cut slicing through his eyebrow. “I should have asked you before how you are feeling.”
“Same as you, I imagine.”
She drew in a deep breath. She hadn’t wanted to discuss what had happened up there on the gondola with Charlotte when she’d asked, saying she couldn’t go there yet. She hadn’t wanted to have to admit she’d pulled herself off the North Diamond’s clinic rotation schedule, how she’d had more than one nightmare about that night, how ever since then she’d felt . . . she wasn’t even sure. Lost? Until now, anyway. With her necklace back, she could face anything. “I’m a master at shoving my hot-mess-ness deep.”
A rough laugh rumbled up from Levi’s chest. “Same.”
Their eyes met and locked. Maybe she hadn’t been able to talk to anyone else about what happened, not wanting to relive it. But Levi had been right there with her, so he already knew. She didn’t have to tell him any of it. There was an odd comfort in that, and she went back to her cupcake, trying not to inhale hers, trying to savor it. “I’m sort of regretting giving you half,” she said around the next mouthful.
He hadn’t devoured his. He was taking his damn time, and while he was doing so, he casually sucked a dollop of frosting from his thumb.
Jane looked at her thumb, hoping for her own dollop to lick, but no go. She took her last bite and eyed the baking paper, wondering if she could lick that without embarrassing herself.
“You ever going to tell me why you disappeared on me that night?” Levi asked.
“I didn’t disappear.”
He gave her a look.
“All right, fine. I took off because I knew you were in good hands and that you’d be okay. There was nothing left for me to do.” Plus, the longer she sat at his bedside, the longer she’d wanted to stay. She played with the cupcake paper until she felt his hand on hers.
“Hey,” he said quietly, waiting until she looked at him. “Just so you know, it’s normal after a situation like that to bond with the person you survived it with. I never knew how true that was until a week ago. We’re the only two who know what we went through. After you left, in the days after, I was just . . . worried, I guess, thinking about you out there, maybe going through a bad time because of it and not having anyone who’d understand.”
She didn’t want to be touched, but she was. She was also unwilling to admit she’d been indeed having a hard time. “I face life-or-death situations all the time for a living. If I formed an attachment to every patient, I wouldn’t last long.”
He looked at her for a long moment. “You and I both know that what happened up there that night was far more than a patient/practitioner relationship.”
She looked into the cupcake box, but a second cupcake did not appear.
“And you face life-and-death situations every day at work?” he asked.
Clearly, the sugar high had loosened her tongue, and he was too damn smart because he’d caught the one little tidbit she hadn’t meant to let loose. “I told you I’m only in Tahoe for the ski season. The rest of the year I’m out working for Doctors Without Borders and other organizations like them.” She genuinely loved helping others, loved helping to make people feel safe—ironic since she’d never felt particularly safe growing up, or . . . ever. But mostly she loved the temporary nature of the contracts she took. Loved knowing she got to leave on her own terms. That the end date was decided going in. No one had to ask her to leave because she’d become inconvenient. She couldn’t be returned.
And yeah, that was her deep, dark, sad, secret truth . . . she was terrified of staying past her usefulness.
Levi was looking at her like she’d surprised him, but he didn’t comment, for which she was grateful. She never knew what to say when people responded with wow, or that’s amazing, or thank you for giving back . . .
She realized he still had his hand on hers, and he was rubbing his thumb back and forth over her palm, a look of fascination on his face. “You keep surprising me, Jane.”
“Yeah.” She pulled her hand free. “I get that a lot.”
“I meant in a good way.”
She took in the seriousness behind the playful light in his eyes, behind the several-days-old stubble on his jaw, at his slow smile because she was still just staring at him. “Oh,” she said brilliantly.
“Oh,” he repeated with a small smile, and slid the rest of his cupcake back toward her. He’d taken only two small bites.
“You’re giving it back?”
“I like watching you eat.”
“You’re a strange guy.”
“No doubt,” he said agreeably.
Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, she took the half cupcake. Bit. Chewed. Swallowed. And then stilled at the realization. “You want something.”
“It’s a small thing.”
Damn. She knew it. She stopped eating. “What?”
“You disappeared before my parents could meet my . . . girlfriend.”
Her tummy quivered, and not necessarily in a bad way, which made her need the clarification. “You mean your pretend girlfriend.”
“My mom wants to meet the woman willing to put up with me. She wants her to come to their fortieth anniversary dinner.”
“Again, not seeing how this is my problem.” Just thinking about it had licks of panic racing through her, even while being fascinated by this family of his.
“It’d be just one family dinner.”
“Oh no,” she said, snorting to hide her rising horror. “No, no, no.”
“Okay, great. So you’ll think about it.”
She had to laugh. “So your Male Selective Hearing is intact.”
“Well, I am a male, so . . .” With a smile, he stood. “Take your time, the dinner’s not for three weeks.” And then he took his sexy ass—yes, it was indeed very sexy—and walked off. He passed the table of gawking nurses and winked at them. “She’s thinking about it,” he said conspiratorially.
In unison the whole table swiveled their heads and stared at Jane.
“No,” she said. “I’m not.”
“Can we then?” Sandra asked.
Jane thunked her head on the table.
THE NEXT MORNING when Jane’s alarm went off at four forty-five, she was still doing nothing but thinking about it. She didn’t have to be at work until eight, but she still got up, showered, and hit the Stovetop Diner by five.
The early bird always gets the worm.
That’s what her grandpa used to say. Which was why she was really here. Not just the diner, but Lake Tahoe in general.
Last year she’d been here for the ski season as usual, and she’d caught sight of her grandpa in this very diner. At the time, she’d been too shocked to talk to him. She wasn’t proud of it, but she’d ducked out before he could see her.