Page 71 of Yours to Keep

“I eat,” he said defensively. “We’re going to eat at it tonight, in fact.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. “Are you still—I don’t know—waiting for your things to be moved over from your place in Philly?”

He shook his head, smirking as he shrugged. “Nah. I have all I need.”

“Why even have a place this big if you don’t need the space?” I asked, frowning as I wondered what on earth had made him buy such a giant home if he wasn’t actually going to live in it. “It just seems wasteful, is all. Especially for someone who’s very concerned with cutting costs.”

His mouth twitched at the corners. “Did you agree to dinner just so you could come here and insult me?”

“I mostly came to eat, but yes,” I joked. “Also that.”

Sullivan gave one last stir of whatever was in the pot, then shut off the heat, turned, and crossed the distance between us in long, fast strides. Without stopping or slowing, he pulled me into his arms like he’d been holding himself back all week, and he kissed the shit out of me before I could even say another word.

His tongue slid against mine in deep, urgent, unapologetic strokes and my heart skipped so hard it actually scared me. I melted into him, my fingers curling into his shirt. The scent him wrapped around me until I forgot where I was.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine. Both us were breathing a little harder. “I promised you dinner, so let’s eat before I forget my manners entirely.”

I laughed, already feeling a bit dazed. “Too late.”

“Come. Sit.” He took my hand and led me to the dining table that stood on its own in the middle of the cavernous space.

He’d set it with bowls, spoons, and forks, and that was it. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the expanse of every room, the front of the building made entirely of glass. It was so, so strange in comparison to the downright frugality of the inside that it was jarring.

When we reached the table, he pulled out a chair and motioned me into it. “Relax for a minute. I’ll be right back.”

I looked at him after I sat down. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Nope. Everything is already done. I just need to bring the food.” He dropped a kiss on top of my head and went back to the kitchen, serving the pasta straight from the pot when he got back.

It was simple, glossy with sauce, and he piled it generously into the bowl in front of me. Then he served himself too. Once that was done, he took the pot back to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses, pouring us each one before he sat down.

We sat together at the too big table, the silence between us companionable. Sullivan watched quietly as I took my first bite, almost like he was nervous I wouldn’t like it, but I was blown away by how tasty it was.

“This is really good,” I said. “I’m impressed.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled, twirling some pasta around his fork before looking up at me again. “I was afraid you might go running to HR if I disappointed you.”

I laughed. “Nah, I’m not really the type that likes to keep them busy. Screw up a good steak and I might think about it, though.”

“If I screw up a good steak, I’d save you the effort and fire myself.” He took a sip of his wine, swallowing it before sending me another smile from across the table. “You know, I realized this week that I don’t even know how you got into nursing.”

The question caught me off guard, but not because it was invasive. He just seemed incredibly genuine. Like he honestly cared about getting to know me better.

“My dad,” I said, shaking off the burst of surprise that had shot through me. “He had a heart attack when I was young. Saint Raphael’s saved his life. After that, I knew I wanted to be the person who did that for someone else, who was there when they were scared and feeling lost. They were so kind to us that night that it changed my entire perspective about life and what I wanted out of it.”

“Is that also why you came to work at Saint Raphael’s, because that’s the hospital that saved your father?”

“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to get there eventually. It just took me some time.” I reached for my glass and picked it up, but I didn’t bring it to my mouth just yet. Part of me wasn’t sure about saying what I wanted to say next, but I knew that telling him might make him understand a little better why I’d been so hesitant to give this a chance. “You should know that working there isn’t just a job to me, Sullivan. It’s personal. It’s a dream come true, which is why it’s been so hard watching you make all the changes you have.”

He exhaled, rubbing his thumb against the edge of his plate. “Yeah, as soon as you told me about your dad, I figured.”

“What about you?” I asked, needing to move on from that topic before I found myself making an impassioned speech begging not to merge those departments or whatever else he was planning. “Why medical tech?”

He leaned back slightly. “It’s personal for me too. My mother had cancer, but unlike your dad, they couldn’t save her. The testing equipment missed it. Multiple times, actually. By the time they finally caught it, it was too late.”

His voice stayed steady, but tight emotion lived underneath it. “I don’t ever want that to happen again. If better tech can save even one person from that, it’s worth it.”

“That’s why you’re cutting so many of our budgets?” I asked softly. “To free up money for technology?”