“Sure. Crab is fine. Guess they won’t mind flip-flops.”
Houston shook his head. “Not at all. It’s mostly deck seating anyway because the back of the place butts up to a private stretch of beach.”
Josie followed him into the dim interior, then out the back door onto the deck, crowded with tables and diners and staff maneuvering in and out with trays. After a quick consultation with the hostess, Houston took her elbow and led her to a table inthe corner next to the railing and featuring a view of the sun setting over the ocean.
Josie sighed as she sat down. “I love watching the water. And it’s nice to get out of the air conditioning.”
She tended to get chilled in excessive AC, and much preferred a balmy breeze and eighty degrees to sixty-eight-degree airtight rooms.
“Are you from this area?” he asked.
“No, not exactly. We moved here from Michigan when I was thirteen.”
“Then I’m surprised you don’t like air conditioning. We get all those tourists here from up north. It hits seventy and they’re sweating, squirting water in their faces with battery-operated misters, and moaning about the humidity.”
“Just like when we go north and a cool breeze blows and we’re pulling on sweaters, and the locals are all running around in shorts.”
Houston smiled. “I guess so.”
Josie fingered the menu in front of her and studied Houston. He puzzled her, with his reserve and his burning eyes, and she felt very inexperienced sitting across from him. She had never drawn the attention of serious men, and had always dated guys who fell squarely under the heading of class clown.
Houston was older than she was, efficient with his words, and she knew absolutely nothing about his personal life. Except that he wanted to have sex with her.
Just once, so damn, she’d better make it count.
Grabbing her menu, she fanned herself and tried to retrieve her thoughts from the bedroom. “So what’s good here?”
“Crab,” he said.
Well, duh.Josie laughed. “Weil, I’ll have that then.” And a big bag to hide her face in.
Chapter Ten
Houston was aware he was making her uncomfortable, that he was staring with no shame whatsoever, and that it bothered her that he didn’t run on at the mouth. But he couldn’t help any of that. She had him burning.
Every inch of him was aware of her and he could only be grateful for the table hiding his hard-on. The wind ruffled her hair, sending the short strands sticking straight up, and her eyes were bright, shiny with nervous amusement, and what he hoped like hell was sexual interest. Her cheeks were dusky pink against her pale chin and neck, and her lips were open a sliver, showing off their wet, plump undersides.
The spot where he wanted his tongue.
“How old are you, Houston? How long have you been a surgeon? I’m twenty-seven, almost twenty-eight, you know.”
Her words tumbled over one another as she waited, twisting the napkin in front of her between rigid fingers, and Houston sat back in his chair, frowning a little at her attempt to chitchat. Something he was never good at.
“I’m thirty-three.” Old enough to know better than to behaving sex with a co-worker, not that it seemed to make a difference.
“I was at a hospital in Daytona for five years before I came here.” He knew she wanted more, and he wanted to tell her more, but he had no idea how to do this, how to open up, how to have a conversation that wasn’t artificial and superficial.
With his buddies, it was different. They just hung out together and surfed and lifted a box when someone needed help moving. With his mother and his sister, well, he loved them beyond anything, but he also protected them. He didn’t tell them his business. Instead, he made a point of talking mostly about their business, or when pressed, discussing medicine, which was a safe topic.
Josie wasn’t like other dates he’d had. She had a guilelessness about her that unnerved him at the same time it struck a raw nerve. He was both attracted to that and repelled.
She scared the crap out of him—or, more accurately, his intense feelings for her scared the crap out of him.
He found himself scratching his jaw, trying hard to think of something to say. “I chose orthopedics because I like working with the older folks. They don’t have the fear of the younger patients, and they’re so damn grateful to you for making their life a bit easier. It’s a good feeling.”
Josie smiled, mouth full of straight teeth, and he could see he had pleased her with that answer. And for some reason, that pleased him.
He shifted in his seat, feeling self-conscious, and was grateful for the waiter asking for their orders.