Page 35 of Where She Belongs
“Andrea...”
And now, here we are. My back pressed against his chest, his arm around my waist, his breath warm against my neck. It feels strangely comfortable, as if our bodies have done this dance before.
His breathing changes slightly—the subtle shift from sleep to wakefulness. I feel him stiffen as awareness returns, as he realizes our position. For a moment, neither of us moves, the only sound in the room our slightly accelerated breathing.
“Morning,” he finally murmurs, his voice rough with sleep, sending an involuntary shiver through me.
“Morning,” I reply, not turning around, not sure I can face him just yet. “Seems we didn’t maintain that practical distance after all.”
His chest vibrates with a quiet laugh. “Apparently not.” There’s a pause, and then, “I should move.”
“You don’t have to,” I say before I can stop myself. “I mean, not unless you’re uncomfortable.”
His arm remains around my waist, neither tightening nor withdrawing. “I’m not uncomfortable,” he admits. “Are you?”
I finally turn in his embrace, needing to see his face, to read whatever might be written there. We’re close—much closer than I anticipated—his dark eyes mere inches from mine, his expression soft and unguarded in the gentle morning light.
“No,” I say truthfully. “Though I probably should be, for the sake of our friendship.”
He smiles, that easy smile that’s charmed half the women in northern New Mexico. “We’re just playing our parts, right? Method acting.”
“Right,” I agree, though something about the explanation feels hollow. “Very committed performances.”
“Oscar-worthy,” he says, making no move to increase the distance between us.
We stay like that, studying each other in the gentle morning light filtering through the curtains, neither advancing nor retreating.
“Is this how you always are in the morning?” I ask, trying to inject some levity into the moment, to slow my racing heart. “This charming with all your overnight guests?”
His expression shifts, a flicker of something almost like hurt crossing his features before his usual smile returns. “First, I don’t typically have ‘overnight guests’ in the traditional sense. Believe it or not, I prefer my own space most nights.” His gaze holds mine, unexpectedly serious. “And second, I don’t wake up holding other women. I’m surprisingly a one-woman man in that regard.”
“Really?” I can’t keep the skepticism from my voice, thinking of his reputation, of the flight attendant, of the myriad women who’ve crossed his path over the years.
“Really,” he affirms. “Whatever you may have heard about my dating habits, I don’t make a practice of sharing my bed. Not for the entire night.”
There’s something in his voice that makes me believe him, despite years of evidence suggesting otherwise. The thought that this might be unusual for him, special even, sends a warm curl of curiosity through me.
“So I’m getting the full Gabe Vasquez experience?” I tease, trying to regain some equilibrium. “Should I feel honored?”
“Yes,” he says without a hint of his usual humor. “Because I’m getting the full Andrea Martin experience, and I consider that an honor.”
His sincerity catches me off guard, stealing the witty retort I was forming. In its absence, something deeper rises to take its place—a curiosity I can no longer ignore.
“I’ve always wondered,” I say, my voice dropping to nearly a whisper, “what all the fuss is about.”
His eyebrow quirks. “The fuss?”
“About you. Half the nurses in the hospital system have stories about Gabe Vasquez. The charming doctor from Taos who leaves broken hearts in his wake.” I watch his expression carefully. “I’ve always wondered what it would be like.”
“What what would be like?” he asks, though I think he knows exactly what I’m referring to.
“What it would be like to kiss Taos’ most eligible bachelor,” I say, the words coming out in a rush before I can second-guess them. “Just out of scientific curiosity, of course.”
Something flashes in his eyes—surprise, followed by interest. “Scientific curiosity,” he repeats, his voice dropping slightly. “Well, I’ve harbored some curiosity myself.”
“About?”
“What it would be like to kiss Albuquerque’s most brilliant doctor,” he says, his gaze dropping briefly to my lips. “The woman who intimidates half the hospital board with her intelligence and dedication. Just for research purposes, naturally.”
