if, uh, maybe you’d, um, like to have dinner with me sometime.” He pocketed both hands and stood there, a half grin on his face, waiting for her answer.
“Um, well, sure,” she began, “I, uh, I guess so.”
Wade began to laugh. It started slow and quiet, and escalated to a pleasant rumble. Soon, Patrice was laughing with him.
“Maybe we oughta join Toastmasters,” he joked.
“Oh, sure. Like anybody would hire the Um-Uh-Er-Uh Duo to give a speech!”
His smile and laughter dulled. “I’d rather hear you stutter and stammer than listen to…just about anything.”
In the seconds that followed, Patrice stood in silence, unsure what to make of his probing, penetrating gaze.
“So what do you say?”
About their mutual stuttering? she wondered. Or his dinner invitation? Suddenly aware that she was clasping and unclasping her hands, Patrice stuffed her fingertips into the back pockets of her jean skirt. “I—”
“What’s your preference? Italian? French? Asian?”
Her cheeks were hot, and she hugged herself, hoping the low lighting had kept him from seeing her blush. “I’m not fussy,” she said, shrugging. “Food’s food.”
“How do you feel about tacos, enchiladas, chimichangas, quesadillas?”
“Long as lima beans aren’t part of the recipe, I’ll eat just about anything.”
His eyes lit up. “Great, ’cause I know this terrific little Mexican place and—”
“Tonight?”
He shrugged. “Well, sure.” The sparkle dimmed as he exhaled. “Aw, man…I should’ve known you’d already have a date.”
Another nervous giggle popped from her. “Now, really, how could you have known a thing like—”
He interrupted with “You’re gorgeous, for starters!”
When he slapped the back of his neck again, Patrice realized Wade probably regretted the compliment.
Well, she didn’t; it was nice to hear, even if she didn’t believe a word of it.
“I’m not busy tonight,” Patrice blurted.
The glint returned to his eyes and he said, “How about scribbling your address and phone number for me on one of those business cards, there.” He pointed at the plastic holder on her desk.
After grabbing a card and a pen, she printed the information he’d requested. Their fingers touched when he took the card from her extended hand, sending a tremor of warm tingles up her arm and straight to her heart. He was everything she’d ever dreamed about—tall and handsome, with muscles in all the right places and a dimple beside his generous mouth.
Uh-oh, she thought, it was happening already.
Every time she allowed herself to fall boots over bonnet for some good-looking hunk, all she ended up with was another heartache. Well, not this time! she decided, straightening her back.
Wade tucked the card into the side pocket of his white lab coat. “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?”
Patrice nodded. He sounded slightly uncertain, which only added to his charm.
“Dress casual,” he said, “’cause this isn’t a fancy place.”
Another nod. Most guys wouldn’t have thought to share a thing like that, meaning that in addition to everything else, Wade was considerate. “Casual,” she echoed. “Thanks.”
Grinning, Wade snapped off a smart salute and headed for the elevators, whistling an off-key rendition of West Side Story’s “Tonight.”
Not knowing what to make of any of it, Patrice flopped onto the seat of her chair, leaned her elbows on the desk and pressed both palms to her face. “Not this time, Lord,” she prayed aloud, “’cause I don’t think I can survive another heartbreak.”
Wade frowned at a black-framed photo hanging on his office wall, taken when he was voted Baltimore’s Bachelor of the Year by The City Magazine readers last year. On its left, another picture, snapped when he won a similar award at the Heart Association Ball two years ago; on the right, a certificate naming him this year’s Most Loveable Doctor.
His participation in the contests and events helped to raise money for one worthy cause or another—the only reason Wade agreed to accept the invites. When the awards arrived, Wade gave them the attention he thought they deserved…by stuffing each into the trash can. If his secretary, Tara, hadn’t fished them out to mat and frame as Christmas gifts, they’d be buried deep in a Maryland landfill by now.
He pushed back from his desk, swiveled the chair around so that it faced the windows and propped his shoes on the credenza. Here, where other doctors kept pictures of their wives, their children and grandchildren, were more reminders of Wade’s bachelor-for-life status.
Wade stared past his certificates and awards, across the sea of cars in the parking lot below his window. Was it his imagination, or were there colorful baby seats and booster chairs in nearly half of them?
What would it be like, he wondered, hearing the words his best friend had so recently heard: “Honey, we’re going to have a baby!”? He’d never seen Adam that happy, and he’d known him nearly twenty years. Well, that wasn’t entirely true; the guy had practically done handstands on the day he married Kasey. If Adam Thorne, of all people, could make his life over, find lasting love and a life mate and the whole ball of wax, might there be hope for Wade, too?
He let out a bitter snicker. Not likely, Cameron, since you seem incapable of getting past a second date. Not that he didn’t want a lasting relationship….
“And what do you want?” he whispered to himself.
Moments passed, but no answer came. Not surprising. He’d failed to puzzle this one out, though he’d tried, dozens of times before.
Dropping both feet to the floor, Wade stood and grabbed the miniblind’s wand. After several angry twists, he effectively shut out the parking lot…and every child-toting vehicle.
His office door creaked open, and Tara said, “See you Monday, Wade.”
“You bet,” he answered. “Say hi to Matt and the kids for me.”
“Sure thing.” She started out the door, then poked her head back in. “Do me a favor?”
“If I can.”
“Get some sleep this weekend, will ya? You’re beginning to worry me.”
“Careful, or I’ll move in so you can mother me full time.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tara said, waving away the comment. “Just what a guy like you wants—an infant and a toddler and mountains of diapers to come home to every night.”
He was
