KRISTI GOLD - Dr. Destiny

But he liked Cassie a lot. Liked the fact she was a great listener, a compassionate friend. He didn’t intend to mess up a good thing by doing something stupid like kissing her back. Really kissing her.

He didn’t need any complications right now. His job was complicated enough. So was his life.

Brendan dressed in jeans and T-shirt then set out to find Cassie. He came upon her at the front doors impatiently tapping her foot. ‘‘You’re five minutes late,’’ she said.

‘‘The showers were crowded.’’ A blatant lie. Only one other guy was in the shower, and he’d finished long before Brendan had. Cassie’s spontaneous kiss had kept Brendan under the spray longer than planned, but he didn’t intend to make that admission. Best to just ignore it, if he could. Maybe a beer would help. Maybe a sudden bout of blindness might, too.

They walked to the small lounge down the street and took their favorite table in the corner. The place was practically deserted with only a couple of businessmen seated at the bar, nursing their drinks and talking about their latest ventures.

Brendan ordered him and Cassie a beer, a routine that had become as welcome and familiar as her smile. He liked import; she favored domestic. He usually drank two; she rarely finished one. He smiled to himself when he considered how he had memorized her habits—the way she always swept her hair back with one hand, her high-energy aura, the fact that she always toyed with whatever was in reach, be it a straw or paperclip. Tonight was no exception. Right then she was steadily shredding a cocktail napkin.

Brendan began the conversation with a belated apology. ‘‘I’m sorry I came down so hard on the Kinseys.’’

Cassie stopped her shredding and laid a palm on his hand where it rested on the table. ‘‘It’s okay, Brendan. Really.’’

‘‘No, it’s not okay. I don’t have any right to judge anyone.’’ His statement held more truth than Cassie would ever know.

Pulling his hand from beneath hers, he picked up his beer to thumb away a drop of condensation on the mug, wishing he could as easily discard his unexpected reaction to Cassie’s touch. Being so close to her had never bothered him before. But it bothered him now in a very elemental way.

He’d never required more from her than easy conversation. He sure as hell hadn’t needed to touch her, although many times he had wanted to. Right now it was all he could do to keep his hands to himself, resist the urge to trace the contours of her mouth with a fingertip, with his own mouth.

He tried to shake off the sudden urges, but they wouldn’t go away.

She took up the paper-mincing where she’d left off. ‘‘You’re frustrated and concerned about the pitfalls of teen pregnancy, Brendan. No one can fault you for that.’’

No, Cassie wouldn’t fault him now. But if she ever found out that his reaction to the young parents had to do with his own lack of judgment years ago, she might change her mind. ‘‘At least they’re trying, I guess.’’ More than he had ever done.

Cassie sipped at her near full beer and regarded him with concern. ‘‘True. They both seem committed to raising their babies. Heaven knows that’s not always the case.’’

Brendan imagined she had seen it all as a social worker. The good and the ugly. He admired her conviction, her strength. If only he had been so strong, then and now. For a moment he thought about confessing his sins to Cassie but reconsidered. She didn’t need to know about his lousy past mistakes. That could very well lower her opinion of him, and ruin the best friendship he’d ever had.

He glanced at the clock flashing an ad for premium scotch—11:00 p.m. Later than he’d realized. He definitely needed to head home. As bad as he hated to leave Cassie’s company, he had a responsibility to his patients to be at his best come morning. ‘‘Are you done?’’

Cassie seemed to have zoned out, carried off into some realm of consciousness that didn’t include him. Totally out of character for her. Normally she was always attentive. Maybe something was disturbing her, too.

He waved his hands in front of her eyes. ‘‘You in there?’’

Startled, she brought her attention back to him. ‘‘Sorry. Just daydreaming, I guess.’’ She smiled, a shaky one. Her dark eyes looked troubled. ‘‘Are you ready to leave?’’

‘‘Not until you tell me what’s wrong.’’

She gripped her near-full mug with both hands. ‘‘Nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking, that’s all.’’

‘‘About what?’’

‘‘About babies.’’

That definitely threw him mentally off-kilter. ‘‘Is there something you want to tell me?’’

‘‘Like what?’’

‘‘Are you pregnant?’’

Her eyes widened. ‘‘Are you crazy?’’

He shrugged. ‘‘You’re a beautiful woman, Cassie. Anything’s possible.’’

‘‘You’re so wrong, Dr. O’Connor. One would have to be—how should I say it—exposed in order to be expecting. And unless I slept through it, that hasn’t happened in a long time.’’

‘‘No prospects?’’

‘‘No way.’’

‘‘Why is that?’’ he asked, genuinely curious.

‘‘Why is what?’’

‘‘Why haven’t you settled down? As long as I’ve known you, I don’t remember you ever mentioning dating anyone.’’

She shrugged. ‘‘I don’t have time for that right now. My work is too hectic. Besides, I don’t intend to settle down or have children until I have all the time in the world to devote to them.’’

That relieved Brendan, especially the part about her not having any prospects to father her offspring. Although he had no say in what she did, or whom she did it with, he didn’t like the thought of Cassie carrying on with some guy that he knew nothing about. ‘‘Well, heck, Cassie, your lack of exposure is really a shame. Anything I can do about that?’’

She crumpled the napkin’s remains and tossed the wad at him. ‘‘You’re so funny.’’

Truth was, he wasn’t necessarily being funny. He didn’t want any kids, either, but practicing with Cassie wasn’t at all repulsive. In fact, it was a downright pleasant idea. One he had no business entertaining.

He yanked back his chair and stood. ‘‘Time for bed.’’ Man, oh, man, he hadn’t meant to say that.

If Cassie was at all shocked, she didn’t show it. Instead she grinned. ‘‘Brendan, as much as I’d love to go to bed with you, I’m thinking maybe we should pick a time when we’re not quite so tired from work and our tennis game.’’

Was she kidding? Did she really want to go to bed with him? Nah. As usual she was trying to get to him with her sassy sarcasm. Two could definitely play that particular game.

Leaning forward, he braced his hands on the arms of her chair. ‘‘You’re right, Cassie. If I’m going to show you all the O’Connor moves, that’s going to require all night. As it stands, I’ve got a NICU full of preemies that need my attention, and I need to be fully awake in the morning.’’

Cassie slipped her bag over her shoulder and gave a one-handed sweep of her hair. ‘‘All night, huh? It would take me all of ten minutes to bring you to your knees.’’

Blood rushed to Brendan’s ears, along with other places much lower. He took a step back and allowed her to stand. But her sensual challenge echoed in his brain. Ten minutes? No way. Then again, she could be right. At the moment, his knees felt like putty, and it wasn’t from the effects of the tennis game or the lone beer.

Brendan walked Cassie to her car thinking he should see her off and get out of there fast, before he made one huge mistake. Before he suggested that he had a few more minutes to spare. Ten minutes, to be exact. He chalked up his sudden desire to stress, his recent lack of sex. Maybe even the need for escape from life’s realities. The need to forget past mistakes. By virtue of her presence, Cassie happened to be on the receiving end of that need, or she would be if he didn’t get the hell out of there.