Mary’s shoulders slumped. “Commitment phobic. I see . . . that’s why he didn’t stay over.”
Dakota sipped her coffee. “A night in the sack isn’t a commitment, Mary. It’s sex. Besides, neither of us pushed.”
“Sloppy kisser?”
“Amazing kisser . . . knock you out of the universe kisser. I took notes.”
“Wow. But you didn’t sleep with him.”
“You make me sound like a slut.”
Mary lifted an eyebrow.
“Oh, God, will I ever live Vegas down? That was almost two years ago and it happened once.”
“You didn’t get his name.”
“He didn’t get mine either.”
Mary drank her coffee. “You’re a woman . . . a woman should have the name of the man she’s sleeping with.”
“There wasn’t any sleeping, Mary. I guarantee it. Either way, it was once and neither of us wanted to repeat it. I’ve been very selective since.”
“Mason?”
“That’s low. I liked Mason.” The bastard was married. Married! They dated a few times and when they moved to the next level, he stayed over once. Then his wife called. Dakota had no idea there was a Mrs.
Bastard.
“Steve.”
“I didn’t sleep with Steve.”
“That’s right . . . sloppy kisser,” Mary reminded herself.
“Let’s not forget his lisp when he was excited.”
Mary started to laugh and before either of them could sip more coffee, they were both bent over and mimicking Steve’s lisp. Poor sloppy-kissing guy that he was.
“So if Walt’s an amazing kisser, not married, and is void of a lisp . . . why are we having coffee this morning?” Mary waved an index finger between the two of them.
“I don’t know . . . it just wasn’t right. I mean, I think we’ll be amazing . . . but it’s too soon.”
Mary sighed and her shoulders slumped while a silly smile crept onto her face. “Oh, Dakota . . . you really like him.”
Dakota had awoken that morning alone, under her down comforter with an incredible feeling of hope inside her chest. Hope that most often fizzled out by a third date. She knew Walt had his own reasons for hesitating. The way he didn’t commit to another date, only a call, made her wonder if he didn’t feel the same way about her kiss as she felt about his. Except he’d seemed on the cusp of asking to come inside. She was only half ticked that he didn’t push.
“You’re a hopeless romantic,” Mary said, as she did after every Dakota date.
“My expectations are too high. Life isn’t a romance novel.”
“He’s a doctor. Your parents would love him.”
Dakota rolled her eyes. “That’s reason to lose his number right now.”
Mary leaned back in her chair. “He’s sexy.”
“His parents would hate me.”
“You say that about any parent that isn’t a fan. They’d love you.”
“They sounded pompous. Walt avoids them nearly as much as I avoid mine.”
“Does he have siblings?”
Dakota dropped her hand on the table. “I-I don’t know. We didn’t talk about it.”
“Has he ever had a serious relationship?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does he go to church?”
“I—”
“Democrat or Republican?”
“Good Lord, Mary, I didn’t have him fill out an application. I don’t know. Religion and politics didn’t enter in the conversation. And before you ask . . . neither did abortion.” Dakota moved to the coffeepot and filled her cup. Caffeine would be her best friend on this day.
Walt spent the morning huddled over coffee and a computer.
Damn electric bill was past due and he’d all but forgotten he needed to pay for water.
Something told him Dakota had this stuff down. She probably paid everything two weeks ahead of time all while having a manicure.
He’d noticed her finely polished nails the night before as she picked up the bowling ball and rolled the thing down the lane. She really didn’t know how to bowl. Telling her his average was well over 180 would have been a mistake. So he threw most of the game and didn’t even bother trying to finish.
She had a hard exterior that he imagined stemmed from her parents’ disapproval. Anyone as driven as she was had to have some kind of drama motivating her. He’d have to ask her if she had a sister or brother that buffered her parents’ issues with her writing. Or did her siblings feel the same way? He couldn’t imagine. At least his own sister understood why he had moved away. Brenda was stupidly happy and married to her first love. Or so that’s the story he’d been told when she’d announced she was getting married right out of college.
His parents would hate Dakota.
The thought popped into his head and actually made him smile. The opinionated and nonfiltered personality that endeared her to him would make them squirm, especially his mother.
Walt clicked the Pay button on his banking site and picked up the phone.
“Good morning,” he said when Dakota answered.
“You’re up early.”
“So are you.”
“I could still be in bed . . . lazy morning and all that.”
He leaned back, felt the chair tilt a little too far. Damn it . . . need to fix this thing.
“You’re drinking coffee,” he told her. “I’m thinking just sugar . . . or just cream, not both.”
Her husky laugh told him he was right.
“Raw sugar. Honey if I’m in a restaurant. Refined sugar is bad for you, Doctor. You should know that.”
He pushed away his empty bowl of nothing but refined sugar cereal and glanced out the window. “I’m working a midshift today, off a day, then on two mornings . . . have a dinner with the directors of Borderless Doctors after that.”
“OK.” She paused. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I told you my schedule was stupid.”
“Which is easier because you’re single.”
Right.
“Everything is squished together because of Miami and my dad’s birthday—”
“Walt?” she interrupted him.
“Yes?”
“Do you want to see me again?”
He hated how much. “Yes,” he admitted.
“Do you and your colleagues ever go out after a shift?”
He laughed, thought of the dive only a few blocks from the hospital. “Joe’s.”