Fire & Water by Betsy Graziani Fasbinder Read Free Book Online Page A

not. Brought these from Lucca’s. This would be cheesecake, chocolate torte with hazelnuts, and tiramisu. I’m guessing the chocolate is your pleasure.” Though I said nothing, he smiled. “Chocolate it is.”
    It made no difference which I’d chosen because we both sank our forks, at will, into all three of the treats.
    “So, you’re finishing your internship soon. What’s next?” he asked, taking a bite of creamy tiramisu.
    “Yup, two more days. I’m taking a few weeks off for the first time in my life, and then I begin residency.”
    Jake froze with instant, unedited pain on his face. “You’re not moving away to the Amazon or the Mayo Clinic or something? I don’t think I could stand it if you broke my heart so soon.”
    Coming from anybody else, this intensity would have scared me off. But when I looked into Jake’s eyes—or rather his eye—an electric surge coursed through my body. The surge passed between us and hummed distractingly between my legs. I gathered the remnants of my voice. “I’ll be staying put at UCSF, pediatric surgical residency for the next five years of my life.”
    The creases between his brows smoothed, and he wore the face of one who’d just unraveled a mystery. “Right here up the hill from your dad’s tavern?”
    “Corny, huh? I guess I always pictured myself here.”
    Jake quieted my explanation with the touch of his hand on mine. “Pediatric surgery?” He fingered his eye patch. “I’ve been told by more than one person that I needed to grow up. And I needed a surgeon. I guess I lucked into the perfect doc, huh?”
    “As long as there are dopes who don’t wear safety goggles, surgeons will have job security.” I wagged my finger at him.
    He tucked my scolding finger gently back with its siblings, then brought my hand toward his lips. His kiss was tender. “Something you gotta know about me, Kat, before you and I go any further. I always work without a net, whatever I do.”
    I had to look away, afraid my face would say more than I was ready to tell him. I was falling for this guy. Too soon. Too fast. So unlike myself. Something in me sensed that by falling for him, I was opening a part of myself—a tender, vulnerable part that was altogether new.
    Impatient busboys, who’d already turned the chairs upside down onto tables, finally shooed us out. Jake slipped money into their hands as we left. We stood in the frigid night air in front of the restaurant at two in the morning. Our foggy breath hung in front of our faces.
    Suddenly, Jake appeared agitated. “Damn!” he huffed, looking around in a panic. “I don’t want to go, but—it’s kind of weird, I sort of have something urgent I have to do right now.”
    I was glad that darkness hid my face. “Oh, hey. It’s late,” I stammered. “I’ve got work tomorrow—or, today. Thanks for the great food. Hope your eye heals quickly—”
    He looked away from me as if his next words were to be found somewhere in the freezing darkness. In the blue light of the winter moon, Jake’s profile was in contrast to the silver clouds of his breath. He searched the edges of my face and his fingers brushed my hair away. He looked at the night sky. “I really have to go,” he said. Then, without another word, he bounded away like a deer frightened by a gunshot, leaving me to walk up the hill to get my car.
    * * *
    The next day I went through my shift in the ER and then to bed that night with an ache in my belly. I woke berating myself. It was just one stupid date—a diversion. I had my residency to look forward to—a coveted surgical residency at one of the country’s leading hospitals. Everything I’d worked toward. Who needed a guy? Who needed some impetuous, flaky guy?
    The following day I found myself grasping for the focus that usually came easily. Dad and Alice had both left me messages, and I’d returned their calls. But our conversations had a stiffness that had never been there before. While I knew they’d