Page 6 of Saved By the Surly Medic

"I draw maps."

I blink in surprise. "Interesting. Is that why you were sketching the river?"

"Yes. Sometimes it's tricky to come up with something completely random, so I use real world examples. I feel like it just makes things more authentic."

"Wait – they aren't real maps?"

"Sometimes, yes. I'm what they call an illustrative cartographer. I take a map and customize it for the client, like I get it to match the colors and style of a presentation, or make it look antique for a book jacket, or stylized for a travel memoir."

I swallow another bite of chicken burrito. "Sounds cool."

"But then I also make fantasy maps for novelists and gamers."

I adore that she's artsy. "I've never even heard of this kind of work. How did you end up doing it?"

Brooke instinctively shrugs, then instantly regrets it, judging by the look on her face. "I did some maps in high school for history class projects and realized I had a knack for it. Then I took some online courses, posted my portfolio online, and boom – somehow I have enough freelance work these days to hold down a tiny apartment."

"That's amazing." My hand reaches out to gently squeeze her knee before I can stop myself. "I'm so proud of you for making a job out of thin air."

"Yeah, I kind of did, right?" She laughs lightly. "I'm up here on a mini vacation to do some preliminary sketches for three projects where the authors all want posters designed featuring a map of their fantasy worlds. So I headed for the mountains."

Her face falls. "Except my sketchbook went down the river, with two days' worth of work in it."

"That sucks. I'm sorry – oh, shit, what about your phone?"

"It's in my car. The battery was getting low and I was going to need the map app to get back to the hotel. It would have been too tempting to take photos when I fell into the zone, so I left it behind."

Her lovely eyes roll. "And yet I managed to get distracted anyway, when I thought I heard an animal in the woods. I wasn't watching my footing…and boom, down I went. Such a klutz."

"Do you need your phone tonight to check in with anyone?" I ask. "Will anyone be worried about you?"

My heart nearly stops as I realize that "anyone" might be a boyfriend. I desperately need Brooke to be single. I need some time to figure out how to… I sigh inwardly. To what? Make this perfect angel of a girl fall in love with me? I have no idea if that's possible, but somehow, I need to try.

"No. I told a few friends that I was leaving for a week, but we don't check on each other or anything."

"What about your family?"

Something subtle tightens her expression. "I'm not close with them."

Ouch. I definitely don't need to mention that again. "Okay, last question and then the interrogation is over. Where do you live?"

She finishes her first burrito, then points to the plate. "These are amazing, by the way. I live in a little apartment over the fabric shop in a place called Mackton. That's a small town near?—"

"About half an hour from Oakton, right?"

"Yeah. You know it?"

"Not really know. Been through it a few times. Now, how about you pick a movie?"

Brooke narrows the selection down to a comedy or an action flick, then realizes that laughing too hard would be a bad idea. She settles on something where the British spy protagonist has some kind of super truck and a specialized weapon for every single occasion.

I just wish I had something in my mental arsenal for this occasion.

Perhaps I've been pushing it out of my mind the past several years, but I'm suddenly realizing just how truly lonely I've been. The odds of finding a woman who can handle life up here on the mountain are, as my grandfather used to say, "slim to diddly", but my experience tonight has ignited something deep within me.

Having Brooke in my home adds life to the place. More to the point, she adds life to me. It fills me with inexplicable joy to jump up and fetch her some ice cream. To set up the guest bedroom, and make sure she has everything she needs.

Caring for this incredible girl is what I've craved my entire life. It's not just the way I ache to touch her. The way I'm dying to kiss her. There's something more.

---