Holiday by Candlelight Page 3

  Unless they were going to get really creative, she’d be getting her way. And he’d be getting left out.

  He leaned back in his chair. A wave of homesickness swamped him. Not a longing for Denver, for the sterile condo and sixteen-hour—if he was lucky—days at the hospital.

  He missed his parents’ brownstone. And the trip back to New York he had planned for the end of January seemed a hell of a long way off.

  Rubbing his breastbone, he pulled out his cell and dialed his mom’s number. Three fifteen East Coast time on a Friday? She’d be in the kitchen, no doubt, directing his brothers in preparing the culinary masterpiece she spent every Friday afternoon making. No matter how busy her medical practice got, family came first, and you didn’t get more “family” than sharing Sarah Klein-Matsuda’s Shabbat dinner.

  “Mom, hey.”

  “Caleb!” He heard the hiss and clunk of a tap being shut off. “Didn’t expect to hear from you, sweetheart.”

  “Thought I’d call before my afternoon patients arrive. Don’t think I can pretend the sandwich I’m planning on eating for dinner is even half as good as your rack of lamb, though.”

  “Roast chicken tonight, actually.”

  His mouth watered. His mom had been making the savory, herb-forward dish for as long as he could remember. He’d tried his hand at it, but she put something into her cooking he could never replicate. “Sad to be missing it.”

  She paused. “Sad you don’t have a table to sit at tonight.”

  “I’m not going to expire if I don’t dip bread in salt on Fridays, Mom.”

  A gust of breath filled his ear. “It’s about community, Caleb. The challah’s just a vehicle.”

  Teenage Caleb deserved a slap up the back of the head for all the nights he’d spent wishing he could go out with his friends instead. Now that he could do whatever he wanted on Shabbat, gorging on roast chicken and arguing with his dad and brothers about the Islanders’ chances at making the playoffs sounded just about perfect.

  When he’d realized staying in Denver was holding him back from healing mentally, he’d had options. He could have just as easily moved back to Brooklyn instead of relocating to a town where he had all of two social connections. Maybe he should have.

  But peaks and snow called to him, even if he missed surgery a thousand times more than he missed skiing.

  Hell, he didn’t miss going up mountains at all.

  Or at least he’d keep telling himself that.

  “Caleb, honey? Still there?”

  “Yeah, sorry. Did I miss something you said?”

  “No. But...” She sighed. “Promise me you won’t eat alone tonight?”

  A particularly godawful rendition of “All I Want for Christmas Is You” drifted in from the hallway through the door, open a hand crack. He kicked it shut with his foot and said, “I’ll give Zach a call.”

  “You’ve been there for four months and Zach’s still your only option?”

  “No.” Well, sort of. “Yesterday I had lunch with someone.”

  “A female someone?”

  Damn, he should have known she’d want details. And Caleb had noticed far too many of Garnet James’s details during their meal.

  “Yeah, one of the local health practitioners.”

  “And her name?”

  He nudged his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Mom, stop. It was just a business lunch.”

  Another long breath threatened to burst his eardrum. “You don’t function well without a big social circle.”

  He made a noncommittal noise. She was right, but admitting he was lonely would worry her way too much.

  “You need to meet more people there,” his mom said. “Have you looked into making connections with the search and rescue crew at all? You were so good at—”

  “Mom. No way can my hand manage backcountry skiing.” Just saying the word backcountry made his tongue feel thick in his mouth. And it was easier for Caleb to claim physical impairment than admit to the marrow-deep fear he’d failed to shed, despite his therapists’ concerted efforts since the avalanche.

  “No one’s saying you need to go out in the field, Caleb. There are other ways to help out.” His mom tsked. “You never know what’ll work for you.”

  Yeah, like a pile of loose red curls and gray eyes that snapped like a flash storm. “I’m taking things one step at a time.”

  His mother made an unconvinced noise. “Some of the best things in life come when we take risks. You’ve proved that many times over.”

  Until it almost killed me. Throat muscles tensing, he coughed. “If I promise to go out for drinks when I leave the clinic, can we talk about something else?”

  She agreed with an obvious pause, then filled him in on his niece’s week at school, and his younger twin brothers’ goings-on before signing off to finish her meal prep. By the time he finished up his afternoon appointments and the stack of paperwork he wanted off his desk before he left for the weekend, it was past seven. Knowing his mom was right about him needing to get out and socialize, he texted Zach to check if there was anything happening that night. A message reading Come to the hotel lounge arrived in seconds. Excellent. Should he go home, change out of his dress shirt and slacks? Nah. It wasn’t a quick jaunt out and back to his lakeside house. But walking into the bustling space fifteen minutes later, he felt a little out of place. Despite the upscale decor, his button-down shirt shouted overdressed—most of the occupants were of the thermal-wear, après-ski variety. His glasses steamed up from the quick change from the outside cold to the indoor warmth. Untucking the tails of his shirt, he polished his foggy lenses.

  The place was packed with people happy to swig beer and watch a hockey game on the big screens mounted behind the long tin-topped bar. He spotted Zach and Cadie partway across the room, at the head of a six-person table currently seating a good ten.

  Wading his way through the throng, he breathed slowly, bracing against the cacophony of sound. Loud noises bugged him since getting caught in the slide.

  So sue him.

  Nothing wrong with a few lingering symptoms. He was still going to counseling, even though his progress had stagnated some. Probably would have to learn to live with what was left, the same as learning to live with being a general practitioner instead of a surgeon. And for all that it wasn’t surgery, his new position had its charms.

  Or it will when you finally feel like you’re making a difference.

  With his oncologist father and dermatologist mother well versed in hospital politics, he’d been instructed not to get too big for his medical britches many a time. Surgeons got to walk around hospitals like rock stars. He didn’t need that. Didn’t need to be a star at all. Just needed to know he mattered, that he was still having an impact.

  Skirting around one last table, he sidled up to Zach Cardenas, slapping the ski patrol director on the back and dropping a kiss on the cheek of Zach’s girlfriend, Cadie. Other than Cadie, who wore jeans and a sweater, the rest of the crowded table had come straight from the hill and had stripped off half their layers. The damp-fabric-and-fresh-snow smell coming off their clothes was nostalgic as hell.

  “You haven’t joined us recently—do you still remember everyone?” Zach made cursory introductions of the handful of patrollers, and Lachlan Reid, a local veterinary technician and one of Zach’s search and rescue buddies. Zach waved a hand at a downright stunning woman to the left of Cadie. “And you know my sister.”

  “Hey, there,” Marisol said, standing and leaning over the massive nacho platter to give him a hug. “Been a while.”

  “That it has.” Since two days before the avalanche, actually. Zach’s sister had met up with the film crew for drinks before the fatal trip into the Whistler backcountry. Caleb had been busy arguing on the phone with his girlfriend, Meiko, who hadn’t appreciated him using his limited tim
e off to work on ski documentaries. He hadn’t spent much time with Marisol that night. Now, as he squeezed her back, he did a double take. If he’d ever wanted to know what Zach looked like in female form, there was his answer. Green eyes and light brown skin and a grin that lit up the room.

  A lot like Garnet’s had in the coffee shop.

  Before he’d shot down her plans.

  Guilt panged through his gut. Now that he’d confirmed he’d had no more luck than she at securing a venue in the village, would he have to admit he wouldn’t be able to attend a party up the mountain? He could always claim illness the day of, salvage his pride.

  “Here for a visit?” he asked, heading for the last empty seat and refocusing on Marisol.

  “Yeah, until next Saturday.”

  “Welcome to Sutter Creek,” he said. “Not that I’ve been here much longer than you.”

  “We’ll make a local out of you yet.” A feminine voice came from over his shoulder, stopping him mid-sit.

  Echoes of that voice had been following him around since lunch yesterday. Figured he’d get a repeat of the real thing.

  “And that’s my spot,” the voice continued.

  “Garnet. Hi.” He straightened, shifted around the chair and held it out for her. Sitting, she smiled. A waft of something herbal drifted from her pinned-up hair. The pretty smell went straight through his belly and a tense, hot knot gripped his core. He resisted the urge to lean in and nuzzle. A guy could spend hours playing with that perfect mess of curls...

  No. That was not what he’d meant when he’d been thinking of making social connections. Going out for beers with the ski patrol was one thing. Actually being interested in one of them was another. His relationship with Meiko had been a casualty of the avalanche as much as his hand. He knew to avoid starting something up with someone whose ski-focused lifestyle mirrored that of his ex-girlfriend.

  You were similar enough before the avalanche.

  He gave himself a mental smack. Who he had been didn’t matter. His life was what it was now, and he wasn’t about to apologize for it.

  Zach poured Caleb a beer from the communal pitcher, and Cadie perched on Zach’s lap to make room for Caleb. Envy speared through him, and he covered it with a smile. Somehow, Zach and Cadie had managed to get through their own traumas without needing to turtle. Probably helped that Zach had been back at base camp instead of getting buried like Caleb. Didn’t have to ask why he’d been pulled out and the others hadn’t, or process the feelings that came from that. But still... Zach had dealt with survivor’s guilt, and he and Cadie had mourned Cadie’s husband’s death and had fallen in love in the process. Caleb had done the opposite.

  He settled next to Garnet and listened with half an ear as she, Cadie and Zach peppered Marisol with questions about what she labeled “her never-ending PhD coursework.”

  He took a few long drinks from his pint glass. This is what he’d been going for. Basic beer-on-a-Friday-night shenanigans.

  “Came looking for me?” Garnet murmured, sipping what looked like a Bloody Mary. She wore leggings and a long plaid shirt-thing. A belt cinched her ribs, pulling the fabric tight to her breasts.

  He swallowed, forcing himself to keep his eyes on her face instead of her just-right curves. “Not exactly.”

  “And did you manage to get any calls in?” she said lightly.

  “Yep.”

  She shifted in her seat, and her arm brushed against him.

  There was that knot again, tensing once, twice, just enough to remind him that the pheromones he learned about in premed biology could be a very real thing.

  A smile danced on her lips, but unlike at the coffee shop, caution edged her demeanor. “Any success?”

  “The Loose Moose is available.”

  “No effing way.”

  “It could be great,” he said, hating the desperation in his voice.

  “No. Ef—”

  “Effing way, yeah, heard you the first time,” he muttered. Pain shot up his right wrist and he glanced at it. Ah, damn. He was fisting his hand. Relaxing the muscles, he rubbed at one of the knots.

  “Did you exhaust the list?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You promised me an email.”

  “I’d planned to wait my full forty-eight hours before admitting you were right. Hope for a personal, pre-Hanukkah miracle.”

  A peal of laughter rang bright. “And here I was, doubting you had a sense of humor.”

  His stomach clenched. Hunger. Had to be that. Not disappointment that she clearly found him lacking. With a wordless point to the nachos that garnered a help-yourself wave from Cadie, he snagged a loaded chip and chewed, only catching half the flavor of cheese and salt.

  “Want to meet up tomorrow? Keep planning?” she said.

  He swallowed his bite. A random cramp pulsed along his forearm, and he failed to keep a grimace off his face. “Yeah, sure.”

  “I—Yesterday, you left suddenly. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable by bringing up alternative therapies.” She bit her plump lower lip.

  Well, that looks enjoyable.

  No. It had beyond sucked to let Meiko down in the months following the slide. To not be the man she’d fallen in love with anymore. He’d changed too much, unable to participate in their usual daredevil pastimes. They hadn’t had enough in common to make a relationship work anymore. And he wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

  Resisting the temptation to further contemplate Garnet’s mouth—she didn’t have gloss or lipstick on, which made it doubly hard to refocus, because damn, he loved the unadorned look—he nodded, accepting her excuse. Heat raced into his cheeks. Her suggesting acupressure had been fine. He’d been running away from how much he wanted to cancel his afternoon appointments to keep staring at her face. “I was just in a hurry to get back to work.”

  Her relief came out in a smile. “How much reconstruction did you need?”

  “Too much.” A muscle spasmed in his jaw to match the twinges in his hand, and he fought to keep his teeth from clenching. Apparently, she’d taken his acceptance as carte blanche to talk about the slide. He wasn’t used to that. But something about her made his mouth start flapping again. “I had surgeries off and on for months after.”

  “Must’ve been weird, being the one on the table.”

  “At least I knew what to expect.” Between the pain of having his hand crushed by debris and the terror of being under snow, the only way he’d kept himself from freaking out while buried had been to run through the surgeries he knew he was going to need. It had been calming, reverting to work.

  And he hadn’t effectively held a scalpel since.

  “Such a fun conversation for a Friday night.” He took a long drink from his beer and pretended to listen in on whatever conversation Zach was having with his sister across the table.

  Garnet’s eyes went a little bright, and her chest rose and fell, casting a shadow between her breasts. “Didn’t mean to pry.”

  Stop noticing the neckline of her shirt, jackass. “Yeah, you did. And it’s okay. People get weird about the slide, but it’s easier when they don’t pretend—”

  “I never pretend to be something I’m not.” Her hand tensed around her glass. “Not any—”

  The abrupt halt to her words gave him pause. Everything about her, from her stiff posture to the flashing shards of silver in her eyes, warned him to pay attention.

  “Anymore?” he finished softly.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I was going to say, uh, not in any world.”

  He’d give her that lie. Seemed the truth would cost her.

  She cleared her throat. “I’m surprised that you’ve tried acupressure. A lot of doctors are still on the fence when it comes to energy treatments. Then again, with you being—”

  “Part Japanese?” he said, saying it b
efore she did. Being biracial meant he got a lot of stupid questions. Sometimes it was easier to cut things off at the pass. “Must be into Shiatsu and finding my qi?”

  Her mouth fell open and she reddened. “No. Zach said you were progressive as a surgeon and might be interested in holistic treatments.”

  He winced. Not at the misread, but at the reminder that his reputation had preceded him. Man, he’d hoped to leave reminders of what he’d lost back in Denver. “I was. And I have no problem referring people who are open to alternative therapy, Garnet. Some of the woo-woo stuff is a bit much for me, but I can usually see the science behind it.”

  “Woo-woo?” She leaned in, close enough for him to catch another delicious wave of rosemary off her hair. “I get science, Caleb. Half a master’s in biochem even gives me partial street cred. But some things can’t be explained in a lab.”

  A thrill of challenge skimmed his skin. Goddamn, she pushed his buttons.

  “Is that so?” he said, for her ears only. He wanted to hear more of that purring promise in her voice. Except about non-work-related things. “I’m not easily convinced.”

  “I’d be happy to try.”

  Chapter Four

  Confusion tumbled through Garnet’s stomach. After his skepticism, she was supposed to be annoyed, not flirting with him. But the minute she’d heard his voice crack when he’d mentioned no longer performing surgery, her empathetic side, already on alert after talking with Cadie and Lauren, had roared to full capacity. His monumental recovery had hit her right in her soft parts.

  The way his eyes went vulnerable behind his sexy, geeky glasses...

  I’d be happy to try?

  Where the hell had that come from? Ugh, she was so crappy at nuance. Growing up an only child had done her no favors socially. Nor had being raised by two professors who were more comfortable researching nanotechnology than they were talking about things so basic as flirting.

  Or not flirting. Stop. Flirting. With. Him.