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“It’s my favorite.”

“Onion and garlic?”

She laughed that mesmerizing sound.

Sex and innocence.

The score of this girl hypnotic.

“No, spaghetti. It’s my favorite.”

A short chuckle rumbled deep in my throat. “Good. Because that’s about the only thing I know how to make.”

She hummed softly, lost to some kind of memory. “When I was a sophomore, my grandparents took me to New York City to see one of the Broadway shows. They said they were feeding my love of the theater. I think what they really were doing was feeding my love for Italian food.”

A gentle smile pulled at one side of my mouth as I poured the noodles in. “And how is it my little actress turned into a baker?”

A giggle slipped free, hair swishing around her as she shifted. “Sometimes dreams are only meant for a moment. They mean the world to us, and then sometimes something takes their place, and they’re not quite as important to us anymore.”

Slowly, I turned and rested my back against the counter facing her. “What happened to that dream?”

She shook her head, her shoulders lifting in the smallest shrug. “I can’t really pinpoint exactly when it happened, but somewhere along the way, it stopped being a burning need inside me. I loved theater in high school. I think it was an outlet. A way to express myself. And I guess I got to a point where I no longer needed to express myself that way.”

“So . . . how did you end up here?”

Lines crossed. I wasn’t even jumping over the hurdles set between us. I was barreling right through them.

The hint of a smile edged her mouth, made up of regret and honesty. “In college, I fell in love, and I followed him here.”

I flinched.

A stake driven through the center of me.

God, that was stupid, but just her even mentioning the idea of that dirtbag, the thought of another man touching her, made my skin crawl.

Unable to tolerate the distance, I slowly crossed the space, awareness thrumming between us. I took in a shuddered breath when I planted myself between her knees, staring at her through the glittering rays of lights that glowed against her gorgeous face. “Do you ever regret it? Not going to New York? Not following that dream? Chasing it even after it was gone?”

Her head shook. Zero reluctance behind it. “No. I don’t. Because Evan is the reason I dream.”

I set my hand against her cheek. “Hope.” It was praise from my mouth. Sure a girl as selfless and giving as this one didn’t exist. “You are amazing. The most incredible woman I’ve ever had the honor to meet.”

Redness flushed up her delicate neck, splashing on her cheeks, and she pressed deeper into the well of my hand. Hungry for the touch. Relishing in me. “I think I could say the same thing about you.”

My brow pinched a little, not sure how to handle a girl like this saying something like that.

Catching it, her eyes narrowed, and she was reaching up and softly trailing her fingertips down the side of my face. “Who are you, Kale Bryant? Because you are the most incredible man I’ve ever met, but there’s something inside you that you try to keep hidden. And I wonder if that’s the part of you that I’m drawn to the most.”

Eyes falling closed, I swallowed around the painful lump that was suddenly prominent at the base of my throat. Throbbing and tormenting.

And I wanted to lay it all out.

Tell her everything.

“You can trust me, Kale,” she whispered.

I blinked at her. “But I’m not sure if I can trust myself.”

She searched me. Gently. In all that belief. “How is that?”

I gathered both of her hands between mine, forcing the tweak of a smile. “I always wanted to be a doctor. My dad was a general practitioner. I basically idolized him my whole life. Couldn’t wait to walk in his shoes.”

A wistful smile pulled at her mouth, her eyes tracing over me like she was trying to imagine what I was like when I was little.

Drawing an image in her mind of a blond-haired boy who wanted to be just like his father.

“He must be so proud of you. You are the best doctor I know. And I’m not just saying that. The second you sat in front of my son, I knew what kind of doctor you were.”

I winced, the words flooding out before I could stop them. “I try to be, Hope. I try to be the best damned doctor I can be. Making sure I never get so wrapped up inside myself, distracted, or focused on things I shouldn’t be that I start missing or neglecting the things that are most important. And what’s most important are my patients.”

Something flickered through her features.

A kind of understanding I wasn’t sure she could possess. A tiny sound fell from her tongue, and she was back to caressing across my lips.


Tags: A.L. Jackson Fight for Me Romance