Chapter 8

“Someone New”

Zoe

Saturday night and I’m a basket case. I’ve dressed, undressed, and dressed again at least five times, and even with Kate’s help I’m a wreck.

It shouldn’t be this hard. It’s drinks and dinner with a friend. A work colleague. Okay, I’ve been having dirty, dirty dreams about the man but he doesn’t know that. It’s totally normal for a woman to vividly fantasize about a man doing unspeakable things to her, right? It’s not weird.

How can a man I barely know—but who I know a lot about—have me twisted in knots before we’ve even been out on a date? This isn’t normally me.

I’m confident, I’m forward, and I’m generally the woman who is carefree, taking things as they come, and definitely not one to stress the fuck out about a quiet drink with a man. A very sexy, charming, confident man, who by all accounts is a nice guy, albeit one who has a past where he was my friend’s ‘friend with benefits’ for years—then again, so was Zander—and who is known for being an accomplished flirt machine.

“Babe, you look gorgeous. You need to slap on some lipstick and get out the door. You don’t want to keep him waiting, do you?”

I turn around to see Kate standing in my bedroom doorway, hands on her hips and looking as if she’s ready to throw me out the door herself if she has to. “Your ride’s here, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just get going, will you?” She’s suddenly very eager to get me out the door.

I look back into the mirror in front of me, catching her eyes in the reflection. “I’m not an idiot, right? I mean, this is crazy, right?”

Her expression softens. “You like him?”

“I don’t know him enough to like him.” I’m just stating facts.

“But you like the idea of him . . .”

“Maybe . . .” I reply coyly. She lifts a brow and levels me with a ‘don’t bullshit me’ stare. “Okay, yes. I do. Why does it feel like I’m jumping out of the frying pan and straight into the fire?”

“Because Noah is the kind of blazing inferno you want to get burned by,” she states with a grin. “And by all accounts, he’s definitely scorching.”

“Okay.” I steel myself as I take one last look in the mirror. I’m wearing a pair of dark denim straight-leg jeans and brown snakeskin heels. To complete the look I have a V-neck black tank with sheer cut-outs strewn across the front and sides, and a tan blazer on top. I add a spritz of my Dior Addict perfume and a swipe of my favorite wine-colored gloss. Let’s face it—there’s no way I’m going to end up kissing him so I don’t need to worry about lipstick transfer.

I bend down and grab my matching snakeskin purse and move toward the door.

“And Zander knows?” I ask as we walk down the hallway together.

“He knows you’re going out, just not who you’re meeting. I think that’s a battle for another day and definitely not one that I can get stuck in the middle of.” I nod in agreement. Hell, there might not even be anything worth telling him about yet.

“See you later, then.” I take a deep breath.

“Keep your eyes and mind open, hon. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. And let’s face it, you already have that awkward first kiss out of the way.”

“I’m just the only one who remembers it.”

“Maybe you’ve shown him that it’s worth a repeat performance?”

The tension eases out of my body. “Reason number sixty-nine my brother is marrying you,” I state with a laugh.

“Oh no, honey. Reason number sixty-nine is a lot more fun than that.”

“Eww, no. No, no, no, no, no. TMI. That’s definitely my cue to leave.”

I walk out the door leaving a laughing Kate behind, turning to see what I expect to be a cab. But then my breath catches when I see the scorching sight of Noah Taylor leaning up against a black SUV parked at the curb.

“Hey.” His voice is like the softest suede with the sexiest gravel undertone I’ve ever heard. He has one of those voices that you could listen to for hours.

“Ah Hi.”

“You look fucking amazing.”

Oh wow. My cheeks heat up and I’m suddenly bashful.

I look him up and down. He’s wearing dark dirty-denim jeans that fit like they were made for him, and a navy blue button-down that does nothing to dissuade my night-time imaginings.

“You’re not looking too bad yourself, Noah. I might prefer the scrubs though.” I wink at him and he chuckles. Win number one for me!

“Need a ride?”

“Well isn’t that a loaded question, if ever there was one?” I tilt my head and smirk, a look he matches, and fuck if it doesn’t make my whole body tremble. He’s good.

I take a step closer to him, wondering whether anything could shake this man’s confidence. I look into his deep blue eyes and contemplate everything that is going on behind them, hoping that he might give me the chance to find out.

“Well you’re here, unexpectedly but definitely not unappreciated, and we’re going to the same place, so I suppose I could let you drive me.”

“Your kindness knows no bounds, Ms. Roberts.” An uncharacteristic giggle escapes my lips and his smile widens as he holds the front passenger door open for me.

“A gentleman?”

“In public anyway.”

“And in private?” What the hell is wrong with me? A few minutes with the man and I’ve jumped head first into my flirting on auto-pilot.

His eyes darken and a sexy smirk appears. Panty-melting smirk? Check! “I think we’re a few dates and a long conversation away from entertaining those kinds of thoughts.”

“Good answer,” I murmur softly as he closes the door and rounds the car before sliding into the driver’s seat with ease.

“You don’t mind me picking you up?”

“I’m actually pleasantly surprised. You’re courting danger, though.”

He laughs. “If you’re talking about your brother, I did some recon and found out he is working tonight so I decided it was safe to pick you up.”

“Brave and smart. A dangerous combination.” Seriously, Zoe. Shut the hell up with the compliments already.

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a good thing. Now let’s get that drink.”

“What can I get you?” the waitress asks a few moments after Noah guides me to a somewhat secluded corner of the quiet, upmarket bar in the heart of the city.

Noah looks at me with a raised eyebrow. Damn he looks hot when he does that. I see something in those eyes of his that I can’t pinpoint, but it’s definitely a different look from the one he wore the other day when he asked me out.

“You pick,” I tell him after looking at the drinks menu, which consists of craft beers, bourbon and whiskey. “There’s nothing on there that I wouldn’t like, so surprise me.” I’ve always thought the kind of drink a man orders a women can say a lot and I’m very interested in what the great Noah Taylor might choose.

“Hmm,” he murmurs, lifting a thumb to his chin as he contemplates what to order. “There’s a Fighting Cock bourbon . . .” He looks up and smirks at me before dropping his eyes back to the menu in his hand. “But how about we start slow . . .” He flips the menu and orders a Pilsner for him and a Prosecco for me.

Then we’re alone again.

“Nice choice. An amazingly accurate one. If I hadn’t have chosen that, I would’ve gone for the Pinot Grigio.”

“A woman with taste.” He leans back into the leather bench seat across from me, a low table between the two of us.

“A man who seems to have insight into a woman’s way of thinking.” Foot meet mouth. We’ve met before.

His eyes widen before he laughs. “Maybe . . .”

“Oh I totally didn’t mean for that to sound like . . . oh shit. I’m sorry.” It’s a plea to not take my verbal diarrhea personally, something I realize he finds funny when he just sits there with his head cocked to the side watching me try and dig myself a deep hole.

“I know what you meant, Zoe. Relax. I’m not that scary, am I?”

“Well . . . I’ve heard all about you, and probably know things about you a woman would not normally need to know for a first date. So I’m unsure what to say.”

He sits back and spreads his arms along the back of the leather bench seat. He’s totally at ease with himself and here’s me sitting here wondering if my top is too see-through, especially given the number of times I’ve caught him checking out my girls already.

“Tell me more about you. All I know is that you’re Zander’s sister, you’re an MRI Technician, you’re stubborn at times, and hard to get to know. Does that cover it?” He smirks at me, but I notice that his eyes never move away from mine. There are a lot of people starting to fill up the bar but his sole focus is on me.

“You pretty much just summed me up in a few sentences. Nice date. See you at work,” I tease as I move to stand up. His eyes widen and his shoulders visibly tighten, only relaxing when I start laughing at him. “Really? You thought I’d go that easy on ya?”

He joins me laughing, a deep chuckle that reaches the deep recesses of my lady parts. One of those ones you wish you could record and play on a loop when the moment calls for it.

“Well, if we’re doing the official first-date thing, then I’ll sum myself up for you. Two sisters, Mia who is twenty-two, and Danika who is almost eighteen, and a brother, Zander, who you’ve obviously met.”

He nods and rubs his chin, which just makes me smile again. “I met his fist, too.”

My cheeks burn, “Yeah, he’s a bit . . . ah . . . protective you could say.”

“Just a bit, but I would be the same if I had a sister.”

“You don’t?”

“Just an annoying younger brother who’s twenty-seven but acts like he’s a teenager who has just discovered the female species.”

Wow. There’s another Taylor on the prowl in Chicago. Batten down the hatches, ladies!

“So are you liking the big city then?”

Before I can answer, his phone dings from the table where he’d left it. He looks up at me with wary eyes. “Sorry, I’ve got to take this. It might be the hospital.”

I wave my hand toward the phone. “Go ahead.” Picking up the phone, he swipes the screen and reads the message, a deep frown marring his rather delicious face before he types something quickly into the phone and puts it back down.

“Where were we? Yes. So you’re from Chicago but moved away?”

The waitress arrives with our drinks and I don’t miss the hungry eyes and flirtatious smile she gives him, the over-the-top ponytail flick a dead giveaway. It’s almost tempting to call her out on it so she learns the art of subtlety, but I don’t bother, because Noah doesn’t look at her once, his attention remaining solely on me.

It’s kind of thrilling to be honest. If you were to study his body language—a bad habit of mine I can’t seem to break—you’d see he’s relaxed, and he’s acting interested simply by the way his body is open to mine and how he leans forward whenever I talk. All in all, the date’s going well so far. The best thing about it? It’s just the two of us—no hospital, no overbearing brothers and no interfering friends.

“We were all born here but after Dad passed away, Mom moved us to Indiana when she got a new job. It’s great there and everything, but I needed a change. I pretty much arrived on Zander’s doorstep asking for a room.”

“Why the change?” he asks, his eyes not leaving mine even for a second as he lifts his beer to his lips for the first time.

“Mac mentioned that there was an opening at the hospital. I applied and thankfully, Greta took a liking to me.” I shrug.

“Greta isn’t someone who takes a shining to just anyone, Zoe. You must’ve impressed her. It doesn’t surprise me.”

Is it getting hot in here? Why does it feel like there’s a bright spotlight shining on me right now?

“Why’s that?” I ask, intrigued.

“Because doctors talk, especially residents. They seem to have nothing better to do than gossip about the comings and goings in the hospital. The gorgeous new MRI tech in Radiology has definitely been a talking point,” he explains before winking at me. I shift in my seat nervously, the thought of being the current topic of choice unsettling.

“What about you? Tell me something I don’t know about you, Noah?”

He’s quiet for a minute, his expression changing to something more contemplative before he totally floors me with his reply. “I’ve recently made a life-changing decision to start looking forward instead of back.”

Of all the things you’d expect the cocky doc to come out with, the completely honest way he just answered my overly personal question has made a dent in that wall of mine. Damn the man!

I decide it’s worth probing further. That’s okay for a first day, right? To discuss life-changing turning points in each other’s lives?

“Was there something that tipped you over the edge toward that decision?”

He places his beer on the table and leans forward.

“One could say that needing to get legless at my best friends’ wedding might have done it. Or the realization that I’d been manipulated into sex by a woman I thought I meant more to than I really did. Take your pick.” There is a flat bitterness to his tone. I’m guessing that woman is the blonde he left the wedding with. The one who turned around and gave a catty smirk toward the crowd as she left with the man sitting opposite me.

I don’t even know the bitch, but I hate her. How is that even possible?

“Is she the one you were at the wedding with?” I ask, mindlessly wringing my hands.

A small smirk makes an appearance. “That was Nikki, and is exactly who I was talking about. And before you ask, no, I don’t want anything more to do with her, and haven’t seen her since then. Give me a woman without baggage any day.”

I stop breathing. There’s a big fucking stumbling block right there. I’m best friends with baggage. Me and my baggage are thick as thieves right now. So much so, he won’t leave me the hell alone.

Slowly exhaling, I look up at Noah and see a gleam in his eye that instantly relaxes me.

“Right.” I look at the ground, but fail to hide the pleased smile that appears.

“I see you like that news.”

“Well, still being with her would make coming out for a drink with me pretty awkward, don’t you think?”

But despite the reassurance he just gave me, the way he talks about her rings warning bells loud and clear in the back of my mind. Bitter? Maybe. Been there, written a damn book about it. Regretful? Yes again. Note me down for being there, done that.

Despite that, and because I’m a woman who needs to know everything, and deciding that I won’t be able to put anything behind me until I know what happened, I bring up what happened at Mac’s wedding.

“So that kiss?”

“Fuck . . .” he groans, running one hand through the top of his hair. “That kiss is going to haunt me, I think. You told me it was the best kiss of your life and more than anything I want to remember it, especially if it was as good as you said.”

Elephant in the room? Time to make your appearance.

“Noah, it’s okay. A lot happened that night. A small kiss is nothing in the scheme of things.”

“Zoe, I really want to—”

“Noah? Noah Taylor? Is that you?” a man in a suit walks up to us and holds his hand out to Noah.

Noah stands and smiles at the stranger. “Greg Thompson. How the hell are you?”

They do a weird man-hug, back-slap thing—the need for which I’ve never quite understood—then stand back and just grin at each other.

“How have you been?” Greg asks, looking down and smiling at me before returning his attention to Noah.

I kind of drown out their conversation, trying to slow down the thoughts running through my head. My phone vibrates in my purse and looking up to see Noah and Greg still occupied, I pull it out. Justin’s name flashes across the screen and I immediately close my eyes to block it out.

It’s not that he scares me. It’s more that he’s unpredictable. And it’s escalating. He’s becoming more persistent, more irrational. Something that is hard to combat when you don’t know what’s going to happen next. I ignore the call and put my phone away, noting that it’s been almost an hour since Noah was waiting outside the house for me.

“Look, Greg. Give me a call during the week and we’ll catch up for a game of golf or something.”

“Well aren’t we the fancy doctor now,” Greg retorts and they both laugh. God, Noah’s laugh is almost as hot as his voice.

“Still a resident. But getting there. Greg, let me introduce you to Zoe, my date.”

“Hi Zoe,” Greg says cheerfully before turning back to Noah. “Catch up soon, yeah?”

“Have a good night,” the man says as he moves away from the table.

“I’m sorry. He’s an old friend from college. I haven’t seen him in years.”

“It’s okay,” I reply with a nod and a smile.

“So where were we?”

“You were telling me about your life-changing decision . . .”

“Enough about me. I want to know more about you, Zoe. Tell me about your family, your life before Chicago, your job. I want to know what makes you happy and what frustrates you. I want to know it all.”

Whoa! That’s beyond a pick-up line. That’s even beyond a ‘come home and fuck me’ line. That is epic. The girls weren’t lying when they said he’s got game.

“That’s a lot of information for a first date.”

“Then let’s plan a second, make sure we have enough time to cover all the bases.”

Bases. Home run. He could have a home run with me with a simple look and flick of his wrist. Well, maybe more than just a flick, but that’s merely semantics. Why is it that he turns my brain into that of a wanton hussy?

“Noah, I don’t think . . .”

Now the waitress is back at our table, sending a heated look in Noah’s direction. I roll my eyes as she leans down and rests her hand on the table, putting her cleavage-baring top right in his line of sight. “Are you ready to order some tasting plates? I’m sure you’ll find everything here to your liking.”

I bet you think that too!

Thankfully, Noah doesn’t react to her blatant invitation, or not-so-subtle innuendo. Instead he looks over at me, and he smiles, his eyes wary at first but then warm when he realizes I’m not bothered by the waitress. Well not outwardly anyway.

“Zoe, did you want to order anything to eat?” His voice is like melted chocolate, the kind you want to roll around in.

“I’m okay,” I reply hoarsely, still suffering the effects of the chocolate mental image. Imagine Noah covered in chocolate, and all the ways I could get him clean.

“We’re happy to wait a while, if that’s okay.”

“Sure thing. You make sure you come find me when you’re ready for me.”

Oh smooth, lady. Real smooth.

Noah brings his attention back to me, effectively shutting the skank down—much to my amusement. “So you were saying?”

“Tell me about you, Dr. Taylor.” I give him a knowing smile and take a sip from my wine glass.

He narrows his eyes as he studies me, his thumb and index finger pinching his chin. “You’re kinda secretive.”

“There’s nothing that exciting to tell.”

“What you are, Ms. Roberts, is a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma, and I’ve always liked a good puzzle.”

Jesus Christ on a cracker. Someone throw a bucket of water over me, stat! “Churchill?”

“One and the same,” he retorts with a grin.

“Hey, Noah. I haven’t seen you here for ages.” Noah turns his head just as a stunning redhead sits at the table next to us. She does a polite scan of me over his shoulder before giving Noah her full attention.

“Lisa, isn’t it?”

“Lauren.” Her voice isn’t so sweet anymore.

“Lauren, yes, that’s it. You reminded me of my friend Lisa. How are you?” Nice save.

Sorry he mouths at me before he spins his body toward her and again, I’m pretty much on a date by myself. One interruption I could handle, but a beautiful woman demanding, and receiving his focus—and that woman not being me—is too much.

As much as I’d like to continue talking and finding out more about him, it’s probably time to admit defeat with this date. He hasn’t even introduced me this time.

My phone lights up again. Fed up with Noah getting side tracked – again – and Justin bombing my phone – again – I grab it, holding down the power button to turn it off, then chuck it in my purse. Out of sight and hopefully out of mind.

Grabbing my glass, I down the rest of my wine and swing my arm out in front of me to get my date’s attention.

“Hey, Noah. Look I’m going to leave. I’ve got a . . . dress fitting with Kate tomorrow so I should head home.” I actually do have a fitting tomorrow, but it’s not until the afternoon. He doesn’t need to know that though.

He says something to Lauren and then stands and makes his way over to me. Taking a seat next to me, he grabs my hand and tangles our fingers together. His hand on mine brings flashes of the last time he touched me, and how he made me feel. Definitely not what I need to be thinking of as I plot my escape.

“Zoe, I’m sorry. I’ve been rude. I thought this would be the perfect place to bring you.” His voice is soft and remorseful which just makes this whole situation worse. He hasn’t done anything wrong—well not really—and I’m starting to think it’s just not meant to be.

“It’s okay,” I reply. “You stay here and catch up with your friends. I’ll catch a cab home.”

“We can go somewhere else if you like. We haven’t even had food yet . . .”

“I think I’d rather just go home.”

“I can take you,” he offers quickly, almost as if he’s on auto-pilot.

“Noah . . .” Okay Zoe, think. You need to give a decent reason why he shouldn’t take you home. “Zander might be home and that’s a whole other headache we both don’t need.”

“I am sorry. More than you know.”

I nod at him, not willing to give anything else away because there is a myriad of emotions racing through me right now, and not all of them are good. I stand and as expected, he follows.

Putting my hand on his bicep, I lean up on my toes and place a barely-there kiss on his cheek. “Thank you for the drink,” I whisper. “Goodbye, Noah.”

There’s weight in the farewell that he doesn’t miss. I know this when his arm snakes around my waist and he pulls me tight against him, our bodies touching thigh to shoulder, my eyes locked to his.

“Next time?” he asks softly. There’s a hint of uncertainty in his voice that makes my heart hurt.

All I can say is a raspy, “I’ll see you round.” My heart is beating out of my chest and whatever this tidal wave of emotion is, it’s about to hit me and fast. He looks down at me for what seems like forever before slowly loosening his hold and taking a step back.

“Bye, Zoe.” He sounds resigned to the fact that this is most likely the last date between us.

“Bye, Noah.” I turn and walk out of there, resisting the urge to run for the hills—or back to Indiana.

On my way out the door I catch a whiff of my favorite men’s cologne, the smell that used to tickle my senses in all the right ways now making me feel sick because I’d bought Justin that same brand. I must be losing the plot if simple things like a smell can repulse me. On that thought, I quickly make my way out the door and into the first free cab I come across.

Hello, Universe. Thanks for the epic date failure. Next time, don’t bother.