So Many Men.... Dorie Graham

preferable, don’t you think? No one likes being left behind.”

      “Why does someone have to be left behind? Why can’t you both move on?”

      “That’s just not realistic. In the real world people get left behind. End of story.”

      So, Mason did have abandonment issues.

      How ironic that she, of all people, would be so drawn to him. Not that she’d ever abandoned anyone, but she’d seen more than her share of goodbyes. “It doesn’t have to be that way.”

      “Right.” He glanced away. “Whatever you say.”

      “Mason.” She waited until his eyes again met hers. “Come out with me, right now. We’ll spend a quiet afternoon, just the two of us. We’ll talk, get to know each other—see what comes of it.”

      His gaze traveled down to her breasts, then back up to her face. “Maybe we shouldn’t…you know, now that we’re working together.”

      “I think getting to know each other better can only enhance our working relationship.”

      “Really?”

      “Most definitely.”

      He inhaled a deep breath. “And what would we do—just the two of us?”

      “Whatever we want to.”

      A short laugh escaped him. “Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

      Smiling, she pushed away from him. “We’re on, then. It’s a date.”

      “Wait, not so fast.”

      She paused, frowning at the determination in his eyes. But he wanted her. Would he really deny himself—deny them both? “Come on, Mason. It’ll be fun.”

      “I have to check on a couple of patients at the hospital this afternoon.” As if to reinforce his responsibilities, his cell phone chimed. He dug it out of his pocket, checking the number on the display.

      He turned to her, his eyes apologetic. “I have to take this. Hold on.” He moved a short distance away and spoke in quiet tones for a few moments before returning to her. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

      “Right.” Disappointment swirled through her. So, this was what rejection felt like. Go figure. “We can get together another time.”

      His smile brightened his entire face. “How about tomorrow night?”

      She nearly bounced with joy. “Saturday? That would be great. You want to meet somewhere? I know this really funky club—”

      “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

      “Oh, okay.”

      “I’ll take you to dinner, maybe the theater. I’ll show you that sometimes the old tried and true is the best way to have a good time.”

      Pride glimmered off him. The man had to be in control. He had to do things his way.

      That was all fine for now. Later, once he had gotten comfortable with her, she would shake him up a little—ease him into some fun on the lighter side. Every nerve in her being told her it was of the utmost importance that she help Mason break out of his conventional ways and learn to be spontaneous. But evidently she needed to gain his confidence first.

      “Okay, Mason. We’ll do it your way this time, but you have to promise me that the next time we do it all my way. I call the shots.”

      “I love your confidence. You’re sure there’ll be a next time?”

      “Oh, yeah.” Her blood warmed as she thought of all the good times headed their way. “Tomorrow night is just the beginning, love, make no mistake about that.”

      PIANO MUSIC FLOATED from the open lounge area above the restaurant where Mason sat across from Tess. Wide windows displayed a clear view of the intercoastal, lit by the lights of a nearby pier and the numerous boats traversing the evening waters.

      He relaxed in his chair as she took a tentative sip of her wine, smiling her pleasure at the robust flavor. She was stunning tonight. Not that she’d looked bad on any of their previous encounters, but tonight she seemed almost radiant.

      “That’s a beautiful dress.” He nodded toward the slinky black number she wore, wishing he knew better words to describe exactly how lovely she looked. The dress accentuated her curves, making them impossible to ignore. His pulse thrummed.

      “Thanks. You clean up nice yourself.”

      Their server approached, dwarfed by the huge dishes she carried. Her eyes sparkled as she set their entrées before them. “Here you go, Dr. Davies, the snapper with snow peas and new potatoes, just the way you like them, light on the salt and butter.”

      “You’re spoiling me, Donna.” Mason grinned at the woman. This was what he liked—a restaurant where they knew him and his preferences.

      “You’re one of our best customers and we aim to please.”

      He surveyed the steaming dishes on the table. “You’ve certainly done that. Everything look okay to you, Tess?”

      Tess breathed in the aroma of her steak and loaded baked potato. “It smells heavenly.” She took a taste of the potato and closed her eyes as she savored the bite. “Delicious. Could we get some more rolls, please?”

      “Yes, ma’am, I’ll bring them right over.”

      “And butter?” Tess asked.

      “Certainly.” Donna turned to Mason. “Anything else for you, Doctor? More wine?”

      “No, I’m fine, thanks.”

      The woman nodded, then hurried away, weaving a path through the white-covered tables. Tess cut into her steak and he took a bite of his fish. “You want to try some?” he asked her. “The chef here is wonderful.”

      She leaned toward him. “You really like this place, don’t you?”

      “Andre’s is the best. Been coming here for years.”

      “It’s all wonderful as far as I can see. Great food and service. Nice atmosphere.”

      “What else could you ask for in a restaurant?”

      “Nothing. It’s perfect.”

      Warmth filled him. Her approval pleased him more than he wanted to admit. “Exactly.”

      “Except…”

      “What?” He stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. “You just said it was perfect.”

      Her gaze pinned him. “Define ‘best customer.’”

      He stared at her, frowning. “What do you mean? I’m a regular customer. I’m friendly and appreciative. I take care of the staff.”

      “Define ‘regular.’”

      What was she getting at? “Regular. I dine here often.”

      “How often?”

      “What’s with all the questions?”

      She shrugged. “I have this feeling about you, Mason.”

      Something told him this wasn’t the kind of feeling he was going to like. “What kind of feeling?”

      Her lips pursed. “You like the tried and true.”

      “That’s right.”

      “You like being where you’re known and where you know people.”

      “Who doesn’t?”

      “You like knowing what to expect and what’s expected of you.”

      He raised his hands in appeal. “Is that a bad thing?”

      “Ever feel