Page 27 of Unforgettable
“Be my guest, Doctor. Watch it though. It’s a slippery little sucker.”
He couldn’t contain his amusement and chuckled, smiling broadly as he took it from her hand and picked up her fork. Simple. Basic. Something he’d done a thousand times without thinking.
Except now, he was thinking. He was aware. Too aware ... of her as he stepped even closer. She must have taken a shower, he surmised. Her hair was freshly washed, full, soft waves caressing her cheeks. Her skin was almost void of bruising and blushed … from his presence he hoped, wondering.
He adjusted his grip, stabbed the edge of the filet pressing hard, and completely misjudged the angle.
The piece shot off the plate, sailed clear across the room, and landed with a soft, traitorous thud.
Silence.
Randi stared at him.
Brew stared at the plate.
And then a guffaw escaped her lips. It wasn’t a polite one by any means. Not restrained. She clamped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock, but couldnot restrain the bubbling howl that escaped.
“Oh… my… God,” she managed between gasps of laughter. “You … you have … two perfectly working hands.”
His head lifted slowly.
“I’m aware.”
“And … and that’s the best you’ve got?”
Something shifted. And for the
first time, her contagious laughter drew him in. It started low, surprising, and real, and he couldn’t contain himself any longer, and joined in at his expense
“I may need additional training,” he admitted between gasps of laughter.
“Clearly,” she answered with an amused tone.
The moment lingered—light, easy, unburdened. And in that space, something changed.
For her, it was the first time since her horrific journey began, that she wasn’t just surviving. She felt alive. And the handsome man who had entered her life, saved her, and standing that very moment before her, was no longer a stranger or savior. He was a man slowly capturing her heart.
CHAPTER 7
The room felt different in the quiet. Not empty. Just… temporary.
Randi sat propped against her pillows, her gaze drifting over the unfamiliar space that was already beginning to feel less like a place of recovery and more like something she would soon have to leave behind. Another ending. Another beginning. She wasn’t sure which one this was yet.
There was a soft knock sounded at the door and she answered, looking up.
“Yes?”
Brew stepped inside. And something in her chest shifted. It was an automatic feeling now that happened every time, he was near.
His presence and her awareness of it was like the way theroom seemed to settle when he entered.
“You’re adjusting well,” he said, his tone calm, professional.
Too professional, she noticed right away.
“I’m trying,” she replied.
A pause stretched between them. It was measured. Careful. Different yet not awkward or strange.
