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By the time the party moved into the dining room, another place setting had been added. They were served an incredible meal by a small, wiry, white-haired man named Louis, who looked to be in his eighties and who winked at Sara Beth when she’d momentarily been overwhelmed by the situation. She relaxed then and enjoyed the seared salmon with ginger-lime sauce, roasted asparagus and brown rice with scallions. Dessert was carrot cake, an anniversary tradition because it had been Brant and Penny’s groom’s cake.
Conversation happened around her. Questions asked and answered, memories shared. “Remember when?” became Tricia’s catchphrase, grating in Sara Beth’s ears after the third time. And since Sara Beth didn’t know enough about Ted, nor did she have a history with him, she couldn’t counter anything Tricia said with a memory of her own. Ted didn’t seem to notice, just nodded and kept eating.
“Remember the time we sailed to Providence?” Tricia asked Ted as Louis cleared the dessert plates. “We capsized,” she said to Sara Beth. “He saved my life. My hero.”
“You know, I’ve think we’ve bored Sara Beth with history for long enough,” Ted said. He set his hand on the back of Sara Beth’s chair, gave her what seemed like a tender look, almost bringing tears to her eyes, even though she knew he was only putting on a show for his parents.
She stopped being mad at him.
“We should be going,” he said.
“Me, too,” Tricia said, patting her lips with her napkin.
Their farewells were brief. “I’m sorry you didn’t know ahead of time that I was coming,” Sara Beth said to Ted’s parents.
“Please don’t concern yourself,” Penny said. “We were thrilled he brought you. Truly, Sara Beth, your presence was a lovely gift.”
Ted and Sara Beth left the house with Tricia, after Ted helped the woman into her coat. Sara Beth had figured out they must have dated in high school, and had seen each other at some point since, but none of Tricia’s remember-whens seemed recent.
“Maybe if we both get after him,” Tricia said, looking over her shoulder at Sara Beth, “Ted will finally furnish his loft. Penny says it reminds her of a college student. Do you agree?”
Sara Beth debated whether to admit she hadn’t seen his place. “He works a lot.” She felt Ted’s hand cup her shoulder and squeeze.
“I heard. Penny wanted me to volunteer to take on the job of decorating for him. I have a knack for that sort of thing.”
“I’ll get around to it,” Ted said.
“You’ve apparently been saying that for months.”
“And I’ve meant it for months. When things lighten up at work, I’ll take care of it.”
“I already promised to help him,” Sara Beth said, fed up with how the woman kept pushing.
To his credit, Ted didn’t blink an eye at the lie. He just lowered his arm to Sara Beth’s waist. His hand felt hot through her coat, which was an impossibility, she knew. Still …
“Really?” Tricia’s brows arched. She looked Sara Beth over again, as if examining her for some kind of decorator gene—and coming up empty. “Why didn’t you just say so, Ted?”
“He’s a man,” Sara Beth explained. “He doesn’t like to admit he can’t do something, you know?” She felt him laugh beside her and felt warm despite the cold night.
“Well, here we are,” Tricia said, stopping next to a silver BMW. “Maybe we could have lunch?” she asked Ted. “Catch up. For old time’s sake. Just friends, you realize,” she said to Sara Beth.
For old time’s sake? Right. For now. Her interest in Ted was as obvious as the cut of her neckline—low and open for invitation.
“I don’t have much free time,” Ted said, squeezing Sara Beth’s waist a little tighter.
She leaned into him and smiled at Tricia.
“I’m sure we can work something out,” Tricia said. “Mother and Father would love to see you, too.”
“We’ll see.”
“Ted and I met when we were children, too,” she said to Sara Beth. “Just like his parents.”
“Without the same results,” Sara Beth said, fed up.
“Good night, Tricia,” Ted said in a tone meant to shut down the conversation.
He maneuvered Sara Beth past her and headed for his car, his arm still around her waist, even though he no longer needed to put on a show. He’d touched her earlier, twice. First, he’d accidentally touched her breast, catching her off guard—and himself, she could tell. Then later, at his parents’ house, he’d rested his hand lightly against her lower back. It had startled her, because it was deliberate. But looking back now, maybe that wasn’t all. Maybe it was the touch itself, which had revved her up.
“Thanks for the save,” Ted said as they drove off a minute later. “And for realizing I needed saving.”
“You were looking a little desperate.” She smiled. “I’m kidding. What is your home like?”
“It’s the top floor of a converted warehouse with a rooftop garden. That I never use.”
She sighed. “If I had a garden, I’d rarely be indoors.”
“There’s no garden in the backyard of your house?”
“There is, but I’m just the renter. It’s owned by a horticulture researcher at Harvard. I’m not allowed to touch his garden. Everything’s an experiment.”
“How long have you lived there?”
“Three years.”
“I was envying your sofa earlier. Reminded me I should order one myself.”
“So your loft does looks like a college student’s?”
“It’s … minimalist.”
She smiled at that.
“I don’t even know what’s kept me from getting it decorated. I could order furniture online, so it’s not like I’d have to spend time going from store to store. I just haven’t done it. Chance gets after me, too.”
She hesitated a long time before she said, “I take it you don’t entertain much.” How personal was she allowed to get?
“I never entertain. I should be reciprocating invitations. My mother drilled that particular etiquette into my head. Until I furnish the place, I can’t.”
“What’s your style?”
“It would still be minimalist, but also comfortable. I have art—paintings and other pieces that I’ve collected or been given. They’re piled in a corner. I suppose it makes sense to decorate around them.” He pulled up in front of her house. “Do you see parking anywhere?”
“You don’t need to bother.” She gathered her coat around her and opened the door. “I’ll be fine.”
He looked at her directly. “You’ve met my mother.”
She laughed. “Well, she’s not here to see your breach of etiquette. Really, Ted, you could end up driving around for fifteen minutes. I don’t need to be walked to the door.” This wasn’t a real date, anyway, she reminded herself.
“Thank you for going with me tonight. You saved my hide.” He reached over and pressed her shoulder, his fingertips grazing her neck.
Her breath caught. The air around her crackled. Neither of them moved. She wanted to kiss him, saw his gaze drop to her mouth and linger, his fingers twitching at the same time, then digging in a little. Move, she ordered herself. Get out. Don’t look back.
She didn’t budge. “So. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow,” she said.
He pulled away his hand slowly, cold replacing the heat fast—too fast. She shivered.
“Until tomorrow, then,” he said, smiling.
She climbed out of the car, leaning back in for just a moment. “Good night.”
“I’ll wait until you’re inside.”
She nodded, was aware of his gaze on her as she crossed between two parked cars, walked up the sidewalk, then climbed the front stairs. Should she turn around and wave? Of course. He was being a gentleman. She waved, although she couldn’t see if he waved back.
When she got inside she leaned against the door, her legs wobbly. What had just happened? Was she caught up in Penny and Brant’s story of love at first touch? She wanted the same fairy tale. The same happy ending. She’d wanted that for a long time.
But with Ted? A man who turned her on just looking at him? A man she worked with? A doctor?
She climbed the stairs, went into her dark, quiet apartment, then didn’t bother turning on the lights, moonlight casting just enough illumination. She slipped off her shoes, hung up her coat and sat on her sofa, curling her legs under her. Her body felt alive. Needy. Aroused.
How could she work with someone whose smallest touch left her breathless?
Her phone rang. She picked it up from the coffee table, her hello sounding shaky, even to herself.
“It’s Ted.”
She gripped the receiver with both hands. Her heart began to pound, loud and fast. “Oh, hi.”
“Listen, I—”
What? You felt it, too? You want me, too?
“Sorry. A car just cut me off. Um, I left some papers on your kitchen counter. Would you bring them with you tomorrow?”
She closed her eyes, more disappointed than she should let herself be. “Of course.”
“Thanks. See you.”
“Bye.”
She’d seen him around the building for months and been able to control it. So why this reaction today? And then there was the fact he hadn’t seemed to notice her at all until today. Or had he studiously been avoiding her, as she had been avoiding him?
All she knew for sure was that she needed to be very, very careful from here on. First and foremost, she wanted to get into the vault.
And she couldn’t—wouldn’t—let her attraction to Ted get in her way.
Chapter Four
In the lab early the next morning, Ted made room for Chance Demetrios to study his computer screen. Ted had arrived well before dawn, needing to get started on his light bulb moment of the previous evening.
“You came up with this last night?” Chance asked.
“Yeah. A purely random thought.”
“How did we miss it before?”
“Because it’s been a process. We had to go through the previous steps to get to this point.”
“I think you’re onto something, Ted.” Chance stepped back. “This could be the breakthrough.”
“Maybe.”
They’d worked together for so many years that they didn’t need to say a lot, could interpret each other’s expressions. Chance grinned; Ted just nodded, their reactions as opposite as everything else about them. Although they were about the same height, and had similar dark eyes and hair, Chance was powerfully built and social, and the black sheep of his dominant and wealthy family, whereas Ted rarely made waves. Opposite in many ways, but similar where it counted.
Because what they had in common was a need to find a viable treatment for male infertility, although neither had told the other why. And both were stubborn and independent, which made them a good team, each other’s checks and balances.
“Has Derek Armstrong weighed in on having Sara Beth working with us?” Chance asked.
“He hasn’t stopped by today. Maybe he doesn’t know yet.” Ted figured Derek would have an opinion, since he’d had an opinion on everything else that Ted and Chance were doing as they tried to protect the institute’s name.
“Did you spend the night here again?” Chance asked, booting up his own computer.
“No.” But that reminded Ted that he needed to order a bed frame, his box spring and mattress being too low to the ground for comfort getting in and out of bed. “I went to my parents’ house for dinner. It was their anniversary. How about you? You sounded hopeful about your date on the phone yesterday.”
“Here’s a piece of advice, my friend. Never have a first date on Valentine’s Day.”
With a few keystrokes, Ted forwarded the new hypothesis to Chance’s computer. “Okay. Why not?”
“Expectations are too high.” Chance tapped a couple keys, then his screen matched Ted’s.
“For what? Roses? Candy? Sex?”
“All three.”
“Your expectations or hers?”
Chance laughed. “In this case, hers.”
“And you turned her down?” Ted had observed Chance in action for years. He flirted in the same unconscious way that most people breathed. “Got a fever or something?”
“Or something.”
Ted studied Chance, but didn’t continue the conversation. They worked side by side, their shorthand of familiarity being enough to convey their thoughts. Suddenly, Ted smelled sweet lemons and discovered Sara Beth standing beside him, wearing tie-dyed scrubs in blues and greens.
Technically she’d been his Valentine’s Day date, but without roses, candy or sex. Without any expectations at all. She’d been a good sport about it, too.
“Good morning, Doctors,” she said, unobtrusively setting down an envelope with what he assumed were his papers from the night before.
