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She rubbed her arms. “You can’t. I wish you could.”
“Oliver? Your…friend? Was he going to help you?”
“No. He’s a friend from med school, but he’s not a psychiatrist. He’s a pediatric nephrologist.”
“Nephrologist? That’s kidneys, right?”
“Yes. He just came in to town to do some work here on a temporary basis. We ran into each other at the coffee shop downstairs, and he invited me to dinner. It was all very innocent.”
Then why the kissing? The question sat on the edge of my vocal cords, but I refrained from asking it again. She was clearly upset about something, and now that I knew it didn’t have anything to do with this guy, I truly did want to help her. But she was being a closed book, as usual.
“Since you won’t talk to me, how about this? I ruined your dinner date, so can I take you to dinner?”
She smiled. Oh, what a beautiful smile it was. “You know? I’d like that.”
“Where were you going to go?”
“The sushi place a block away.”
Sushi? Really not my thing. I was a rancher, for God’s sake. A meat and potatoes kind of guy. But for Melanie Carmichael, I’d eat raw fish. “Sounds good,” I said, hoping I was pulling it off. “Sushi it is.”
She gave me another smile. And then her phone beeped. “Excuse me, I just need to take care of this.” She walked outside to the reception area to take the call. Within a few minutes, she was back. Her eyes were rimmed again with sadness—or was it fear?
“Melanie? What is it?”
“Nothing. But I’m afraid I can’t—”
“Oh, hell, no,” I said. “We’re having dinner. And then we’re going back to your place, and you’re going to tell me every little thing that you’re keeping from me. In your business, you know it helps to talk to someone.”
I just hoped I could be there to listen and not get so crazy that I had to fuck her brains out first.
Chapter Twenty–Two
Melanie
I could tell that sushi wasn’t Jonah’s favorite meal. But he was a trouper, and he tried everything I ordered. He actually liked the unagi—freshwater eel—quite a bit. I almost felt bad having to tell him it was cooked. We talked mainly about the food. One thing that was great about Jonah—I didn’t feel like I had to keep talking. I hated small talk, and I sucked at it as well. So we finished up, shared a dessert of green tea ice cream, and then walked back to my place.
“Do you want a drink?” I asked. “I can open a bottle of wine.”
“No, I have to drive home later, and I already had that sake at the restaurant. But I’d love a cup of coffee if you have it.”
“Sure. I’ll start a pot. Make yourself at home.” I walked to the kitchen, fiddled with the coffee maker, and ground some beans.
Then I went into the living room. Jonah was leafing through a copy of my book.
He looked up when he saw me. “That first time I met you, when you were at the psychology conference and I was at the agricultural conference, you told me you were working on a book. Is this the one?”
“Yes, although the book was done by then. I just said I was working on it because it hadn’t been published yet. It came out a month ago.”
“You said it was about overcoming childhood trauma. That caught my interest. Obviously, it’s a topic I’m familiar with.”
“Of course. Talon.”
He nodded. “I kept your card. That’s how he came to you.”
“I know. He told me.”
“I told him you came highly recommended. But I have to be honest with you. I really didn’t know much about you, other than that you had written a book and you were presenting at the conference, so I figured you were an expert.”
