14
CATALINA
E arlier tonight, Luke sent me a text, inviting me to come check out the new espresso machine he installed in the first-floor break room during his last shift.
I feel like an eager child as I count the minutes until my thirty-minute break, and I have to tell myself more than once to calm down and rein in my excitement.
It’s just coffee , I silently groan when I catch myself glancing at the clock for the third time in ten minutes.
At three a.m., I head down to the first floor with a lightness in my chest that I haven’t felt all night, and it’s because of Luke. Tonight’s shift has been hard. It isn’t as bad as the time Luke caught me crying, but it has still sucked, especially when I had to talk to Sarah’s parents about her arrangements.
I shelve the thought and focus on happy ones instead…or as happy as I can feel knowing Luke plans on getting started on the maid of honor speech straight away. My feet should be dragging at the idea, but I find myself speed-walking to the break room so I don’t waste any more time.
I enter the small room to find Luke already at the espresso machine, scrolling on his phone while waiting for a ceramic mug to finish filling up, although I’m quickly distracted by the decorations scattered around the room.
What the break room lacks in space it makes up for with holiday decor. Every empty table has a miniature poinsettia placed at the center, and paper snowflakes hang from the ceiling. Gifts for the town’s toy drive are piled high in one corner while a corkboard has stringed lights tacked above a list of events coming up throughout December.
“They did a nice job with the place, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, turning my head to find him already staring at me.
Luke has this effect on me that should be alarming. The way my heartbeat escalates from a single smile—from a damn glimmer in his eyes as his gaze travels over me—is exactly what I would want…while being everything I shouldn’t pursue.
Regardless of how Luke makes me feel, it doesn’t change the fact that I’m leaving at the start of new year for my next job while he will stay here, building a life and career for himself.
You’re just having fun together. That’s all , I tell myself as he pockets his phone and gives me his full, undivided attention.
It’s starting to feel less like fun and more like—well, more.
I lose my train of thought as his dark eyes rake over me, tracing an invisible path from my face to the hem of my scrub pants.
“Reindeer.” His flirtatious smile makes my insides clench.
“Huh?”
He tips his chin in my direction. “Today’s scrubs.”
I stare down at my clothes like I’m seeing them for the first time. “Oh. Right. Reindeer.”
“You’ve got quite the collection going for yourself.”
My cheeks flush. “Meaning?”
“I haven’t seen you repeat a single scrub set yet.”
I press my lips together to stop myself from asking why he’s been keeping track.
“How many scrubs do you have?” he asks when I don’t say anything.
“That’s a personal question.” A hint of defensiveness bleeds into my voice.
“I’ll trade you a cup of coffee for an answer then.” He grabs the full mug from the machine and holds it out for me.
I blink at it. “You made me a cup?”
“Technically, all I did was pop the hazelnut pod inside the machine and let it do the rest, but sure. I made it just for you.”
I try to look past the fact that he really did buy my favorite flavor pods—and fail miserably. Damn him for being sweet and thoughtful. Damn him straight to hell because if he keeps this up, I’ll never survive the next two weeks without catching some kind of feelings.
My heart squeezes at his gesture. “Thank you.”
He acknowledges my comment with a dip of his head. “If you don’t tell me how many scrubs you really have, I’ll assume it’s over three hundred.”
I gawk. “That’s ridiculous!”
“Four hundred?”
“ No .”
“Then how many?”
We stare at each other for a few seconds without blinking before I let out a resigned sigh. “Ballpark number? Probably sixty. Or maybe seventy—” His lips twitch. “I stopped counting after fifty, so technically I don’t know.”
He laughs to himself. “That’s not as bad as I thought.”
I make grabby hands for the cup of coffee, and he passes it to me. His fingers brush across the inside of my wrist, and I bite back a smile as familiar butterflies unleash in my belly.
I’m catching on to Luke’s slick ways of initiating contact, but I pretend to be oblivious because I secretly like him touching me. It makes me feel desired, and I’ll be damned if I ruin it by pretending I don’t like it.
Luke tips his head toward the empty table at one corner of the break room. We walk over to it, and he pulls out my seat and waits for me to sit before taking the one across from me.
We will not swoon. We will not ? —
He interrupts my inner mantra with another question. “How do you travel with all of them?”
“I bring an extra suitcase packed with all my scrubs. Since I come home to my parents’ house twice a year, I switch out the old ones with the others.”
“Smart. So you have different ones for seasons and holidays?”
“Yup. I made a bet with Gabriela last year, though, so I’m only allowed to treat myself to a new one every season.”
“So four a year?”
“Yes.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because we both have addictions we’re trying to overcome.” It’s not my fault that my favorite medical clothing company drops new apparel every few months, right? I’m clearly a victim of consumer culture and capitalism.
He leans forward with a smile, turning my insides to mush. “This sounds serious.”
“Tell me about it. If I break my scrub-buying-ban, then I’m screwed.”
“How so?”
“That’s between me and her.”
He stares at me thoughtfully. “Based on your facial expression, I assume it’s bad.”
“Your assumption isn’t wrong.”
“Have you considered seeking medical attention for this so-called addiction?”
I fight a smile. “No.”
“Good thing you know a couple of doctors then. I’d be more than happy to help.”
I motion between us. “Wouldn’t this be a conflict of interest?”
“Depends on if you want there to be one.” His eyes sparkle like a thousand gems are trapped beneath the surface.
Desire coils in my stomach, my muscles clenching as I take a deep breath. “Let’s get through the wedding first—my addiction can wait.”
His smirk slips. “Speaking of weddings, did you bring a notebook?”
“Yeah.” I pull a small one out of my front pocket and toss it on the table.
He reaches for it and flips to a blank page. “We should start with the basics.”
“Like?”
“What’s your favorite memory of Gabriela and you?”
“That’s the basics?”
“Seems like a good place as any to start.”
“I—” I guess in theory that’s a smart idea, so rather than push back on his request, I think of my answer.
I rifle through my memory bank while sipping my coffee. “Well…we used to dress up like a bride and groom and play house together.”
He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms, drawing my attention toward the muscles straining against the fabric of his scrubs.
“Who was the bride?” he asks for a second time when I don’t answer the first.
“Most of the time it was both of us.”
“And the other times?”
My eyes roll. “Gabriela would beg me to play the groom.”
“And I’m guessing you couldn’t say no.”
“Are you kidding? She would break down crying any time I suggested us switching roles.”
He chuckles under his breath.
“Gabriela and I would invite our parents and stuffed animals to all of our fake weddings. We’d bring out our tea set and have a reception before moving into the karaoke portion of the event. God, we spent hours singing and dancing on the tips of our dad’s toes. My dad always had a special song for both of us, and I’m not sure how he didn’t go crazy listening to the same two over and over again.”
When I look up, I find Luke’s gaze pinned to my face and a small quirk to his lips.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s a good story…”
“But?”
“But nothing.” He glances away.
My mouth falls open. “Luke Darling. Are you lying to me right now?”
“No.” His cheeks turn pink.
“Oh my God.” The idea of Luke being terrible at something like lying makes me laugh. “I’m not sure if anyone has told you this, but you might be the worst liar to exist.”
He grumbles something incoherent under his breath.
“It’s cute,” I say.
My comment seems to gain his attention as he asks, “What is?”
“The fact that you can’t lie to save your life.”
“Shut up.” He scrubs a hand down his face as if that can wipe the pink flush from his cheeks.
“Aw. Look at you getting all shy on me.”
“You know what? You can figure out the speech yourself.” He tosses the notebook on the table and moves to stand.
I grab his arm to stop him from leaving. “No! You promised to help me.”
His eyes narrow. “I didn’t anticipate such a hostile working environment.”
“Hostile?”
“Yes, because you, Catalina Martinez, are a bully.”
My hand tightens around his wrist. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Don’t you dare laugh.
His eyes flicker with awareness, as if he can read my mind. “I’m going to add all this to my HR complaint.”
“This report seems to be getting longer by the day.”
“At this rate, I’ll be able to write a tell-all book about you.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not that interesting.”
He stuns me momentarily with a dazzling smile. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
I suck in a breath.
“Everything about you interests me.” His gaze flickers over my face, and I find my own cheeks warming under his perusal.
His lips part, but whatever he is about to say gets cut off by a male nurse entering the room.
“Doctor Darling! I had hoped to find you here. Eileen has been looking all over for you. The patient in 2B who had a gastric suction needs your help.”
“What’s the status on the patient?” Luke jumps into doctor mode as he reaches for his stethoscope on the table and places it around his neck, and I’ll be the first to admit his quick transition from charming flirt to authoritative medical professional is hot.
He might not wear a white coat, but the energy he exudes screams that he is the man in charge.
The nurse shakes his head. “Oh. They’re fine, but you missed a signature on a patient’s discharge form.”
The muscles in Luke’s shoulders relax. “Why wasn’t I paged?”
“Eileen wanted to, but I thought I could buy you some more time for your break.”
“Thanks.” Luke sighs. “I’ll be right there.”
The nurse says goodbye before leaving.
Luke rubs the back of his neck. “I should go. Eileen is probably losing her mind over incomplete paperwork.”
“Best of luck to you.”
His lips quirk at the corners. “Let’s pick back up on the speech tomorrow?”
“I’m not working.”
“I know.” His smirk turns into a full-blown smile.
Meeting up somewhere outside of work without Gabriela or Aiden feels serious in a way. Like Luke and I are making a conscious effort to spend time together without our friends or my family serving as a buffer.
He just wants to help you.
Yeah, all while simultaneously trying to get closer to me in any way he can.
He rubs the back of his neck again—a nervous tic I’m starting to easily recognize, and one I’m beginning to enjoy drawing out from him. Even the pink flush in his cheeks returns with a vengeance, although this time from nervousness rather than being caught in a little white lie.
Damn him for making me think his self-consciousness is endearing. I, of all people, should be turned off by the idea of someone being vulnerable, but Luke going from confident and flirtatious to nervous and uncertain draws me in, especially when compared to how confident he was only a few moments ago with the nurse.
“Where are you thinking?” I ask.
“We could meet at Nightcap?”
“The new bar in the Historic District?” It was heavily inspired by the roaring twenties and speakeasies, with cocktails they serve in tiny bathtubs and a hidden door in the back leading to a secret bar and menu, and I’ve wanted to go there ever since they opened a few months ago.
“Yeah. You mentioned something about it at dinner the other night.”
My brows rise. All I remember saying was that Gabriela betrayed me by going to the grand opening while I was out of town, so the fact that he is offering to take me makes my head swim with possibilities I can no longer ignore.
If I had a sense of self-preservation, I would come up with a reason to say no. This thing between us can’t go anywhere, but Luke seems intent on trying anyway, so if he ends up getting hurt once I have to leave, that’s on him.
Him? What about you?
There is no way I will get attached to someone in two short weeks. I’ve always been cautious to a fault, and I’m not about to lose myself in some whirlwind romance better suited for a holiday made-for-TV movie than real life.
The thought alone makes me want to snort.
“So?” His question hangs in the air.
“You know what? Sure. I’ve been wanting to go there, and this speech isn’t going to write itself.”
“Perfect. It’s a date.” He winks before turning to leave.
I don’t correct him on the fact that it isn’t a date.
I don’t remind him that we are working on a speech, not spending time getting to know each other.
I don’t do anything but smile and wave as he exits the break room, taking the smallest, thinnest sliver of my heart along with him.