Dimitri

January and Its Uncertainties...

I straightened the last bit of supplies on the desk and collapsed into the office chair with a sigh. This office wasn't too bad. It was nice but it wasn't perfect. I agreed to take the position the hospital was offering me under the conditions that it was on a temporary basis until someone else could be hired. I had spent so long working to become a doctor but now, after the last couple of years working beyond the confines of a hospital, I was finding it hard to settle in and get comfortable. I felt restless and I knew I didn't want to be stuck in one position here for too long. Even sitting in my office now was stifling.

I looked around the office, noting how I was finally finished organizing everything and finished up some paperwork. I still had some paperwork to clear up and some aspects to study up on but it could wait. It was only six o'clock and it was the first time in a week that I got enough done to leave the office early and maybe see Rose.

I hadn't seen her in a little over a week though not from lack of trying. Our schedules just weren't matching up. I started at the hospital that same morning they called me and have pretty much been here since, only driving home for a quick change of clothes once or twice. I texted her to reassure that I wasn't trying to push her away like last time and much to my relief she texted back, letting me know it was fine and to just call when I was free. I wanted to take her out on a real first date.

Well, it had taken a sleepless week of suturing, stitching, bandaging, testing, and paperwork but I finally had some free time. I pulled out my phone I headed toward my car, bidding some of the nurses and my colleagues goodnight as I went. There were voicemails from Ivan and Tasha, just checking in. I hadn't seen Ivan since the club and I had yet to see Tasha since I'd been back but made a mental note to try and reach out in order to avoid another well deserved reprimand. There was even a missed call from my mother's home number but no message. I made a mental note to at least think about reaching out to her when my phone started to ring in my hand - my mother's number.

So much for thinking about it. I couldn't bring myself to swipe and ignore it so I did the bravest thing I'd done in a long time and answered.

I heard her intake of breath on the other end when she realized I had answered.

"Dimka?"

When was the last time I heard my mother call me Dimka? It seemed like so long ago. Her voice is hoarse but otherwise still the same.

"Dimka, are you there?"

Realizing I was taking too long to answer, I worried she'd hang up. A part of me wanted her too. Nonetheless, I finally spoke.

"Olena."

She gasped and sniffled, and I knew right away that she was trying to keep herself from crying over the phone. A toxic concoction of guilt and anger bubbled inside me but I tampered it down.

"How are you?" I asked. A simple question, nothing too provoking.

She cleared her throat and sniffled again.

"I've been...I've been okay. Better now that I'm talking to you. What about you? How have you been?"

As though Tasha and Ivan haven't been giving her sporadic updates when they can.

"I'm good." It was the closest to the truth as I could get without letting everything else out. I was good these days, definitely better than when I left two years ago. I had a steady job for right now - despite how restless I was already feeling being back, I was planning on reaching out to the people in my life like Ivan and Tasha instead of pulling away and there was something I hoped to start with Rose. I wasn't sure what it was yet but in the grand scheme of things in my life right now and everything in comparison to my life before I left to work abroad, I was good. Surviving and good.

"That's good to hear," she said after a beat, likely waiting for me to say more.

I wanted to ask about my sisters and my nephew Paul but I couldn't do it. It was like the words were caught in my throat. If I offered up myself a little or showed too much interest or concern, I feared she'd guilt me into visiting home. I didn't speak and neither did she. The line was quiet and heavy with tension before I broke the ice.

"Was there a reason you called?" I asked, my tone a lot harsher than I intended.

"I just...I heard that you were finally back and I thought that maybe...maybe enough time had passed that we could just talk."

I knew she was right. More than enough time had passed but I still didn't feel ready for that. If I'd ever be ready.

"I could make dinner and it'll be like the way it used to be."

Talking over the phone didn't seem too bad but going over there in person and facing everyone after everything that happened...I couldn't do it.

"Maybe," I answered evasively. "I just don't think it's a good idea for me to go over there so soon-"

"Soon?" she interrupted, laughing incredulously. "You were gone for two years. I think that's been long enough. You should be happy we let you go this long without talking to us when we could have pressed charges," she snapped.

"You're saying I should thank you for not pressing charges?"

"You're making this so hard. Why are you being so difficult and unfair?" she sniffed. The tears were getting ready to fall again. "Why are you still punishing us? Me?"

I leaned my head back against the headrest of my car and closed my eyes. That wasn't my intention but I can't lie and say that the thought hadn't crossed my mind. But it wasn't about them and rehashing the past. This was about me and working out my anger without taking it out on anyone.

"I'm not," I said simply, unable to explain any further than that. "Look, I've had a long week back at work, I need to get some sleep.

"No, wait Dimka, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," she said quickly, worried I'd hang up and never answer one of her calls again. I was already regretting answering this one. "Please, I'm sorry, really I just, we miss you."

"I just have to work through some stuff now that I'm home and sort out everything in my head."

How do I explain that I was still angry and couldn't even think about my mother or even facing her without wanting to hit or drink something?

"I'll call you soon, to talk."

When I'm ready.

I prepared myself for a fight, for more of the shouting and maybe some cursing, but the other end of the line was silent. Maybe I hadn't been the only one to change in the last two years. Maybe Olena had calmed down and changed too, choosing her battles.

"Okay," she finally replied. "Talk to you soon?"

"Yeah, soon."

I hung up before anymore could be said. As far as phone calls home went, that could have gone much worse. I don't know how long I sat in my car before deciding I'd been there too long. Any ideas I had about seeing Rose seemed out of the question now. I couldn't see her when I was like this, simmering and trying to call myself down and forget.

I was getting ready to send her a quick text about maybe meeting up tomorrow when I knew I'd be calmer but my phone died. And of course I left my car charger at home so it'd have to wait until I went home. I made it home relatively quick since it was past rush hour. I pulled into my driveway with the plan to charge my phone, shower, and call Rose to make some sort of plans for tomorrow. I drove down the empty road that led to my house, surprised to find an old Jeep parked haphazardly in my driveway, Rose still buckled in. Her head was down on the wheel and her window was crack, releasing the smoke from the cigarette between her fingers.

She didn't look up at the sound of my truck pulling in and didn't stir as I climbed out of the car, knocking on her window. She swiped at her face and lifted her head, offering me a small smile as she stubbed out her cigarette. She told me she'd been trying to kick the habit and only smoked lately when she stressed. I wondered what triggered her today. She had a little bit of makeup smudged around her eyes, but it didn't do much to hide the exhaustion on her face. She reached for a grocery bag in the passenger seat and climbed out of the car as I opened the door.

"I was just about to call you but my phone died," I told her as I helped her out. I took the bag from her hand and led the way toward the house and out of the cold. She was wearing a thick coat but only had a business skirt and heels on in this winter weather.

"Not gonna lie, I was freaking out a little. I was worried you were starting to think I was too clingy and were avoiding me," she laughed mirthlessly as she stepped into the house, stopping in the doorway looking uncertain. I set our collective stuff down on the counter and walked back toward her.

"No, no, it's not that. Work has been busy. Really I was going to call you," I repeated, holding up the dead screen of my phone for emphasis. She nodded absently, her shoulders sinking in a silent of relief as though the fact that I wasn't blowing her off was one less thing she had to worry about. This girl is twenty-three years old and she looks like she's carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. "You okay?"

She shook her head as though out of a daze. Her fingers caught in her hair as she pushed it back from her face and she sighed again. "Yeah sorry. I'm good. I just...I'm not usually this pathetic or needy. I feel kind of stupid for coming over here without talking to you. I wasn't even sure you'd be here but I didn't know where else to go. I just couldn't to go home."

"Why not?"

A pleading expression came over her face. "Promise you won't think any less of my hardened exterior."

"Cross my heart," I swore, coaxing the barest of smiles out of her.

"My cousin's been staying with her boyfriend all week and Mia decided to stay in phoenix to visit some friends she met up with at the festival. It's been a long time since I've been left at the house on my own and I don't do well being home alone. It's sort of my childhood trauma. Well...one of them anyway," she mumbled so low I wasn't even certain she had intended for me to hear. "I didn't know where to go and before I really thought about it, I ended up here. Crazy right?"

Yeah, a little crazy, emotional baggage a little too heavy. If it had been anyone else, any other woman I'd slept with who spontaneously showed up at my house without invitation I'd be having second thoughts about this whole thing, whatever it was. But I don't know. We hadn't had an official date or anything yet but Rose and I talked a lot the last couple of days. Nothing too serious or anything, just idle conversation, checking in, as though we were both worried we'd lose the connection we'd made the week before. There was something there. I couldn't explain it but I felt it and a part of me knew she felt it too. It didn't seem so crazy because I wanted her here. Despite my plan to avoid her until I collected myself together after talking with my mother, a part of me was glad she was here.

"A little crazy," I told her honestly. "But I'm glad you're here." I walked to her slowly, helping her ease her coat off her shoulders and hanging it up behind her. She had to tilt her face back to look up at me and meet my eyes, making it that much easier for me to try to kiss her.

She pulled back a little, dodging me. "I just had a cigarette," she reminded me, an apologetic tone to her voice.

"It's okay," I assure her, reeling her toward me again, pleased when she didn't resist. "I don't mind. I'm just happy you're here."

Her lips were cold but soft and supple. The taste of nicotine was on her mouth but I used to smoke as a teen. I was familiar with it. I didn't mind it too much right now as long as her underlying sweetness was still there. The kiss stole some of the tension from my body much to my relief.

"I'm glad you're here too. I wasn't even sure you'd be home from the hospital today."

"What would you have done if I hadn't been?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I'd have figured something out. I warned you, didn't I? Not to freak out if you found me chilling outside your house one day?" she joked.

I laughed as I led her further into the house.

"Yes you did and I said I wouldn't panic."

"And you aren't. You're handling this pretty well," she said impressed, leaning against the kitchen counter while I plugged in my phone and turned the heating on low. "Why haven't I scared you off yet? The smoking, drinking, my age, my obvious emotional - maybe even mental - imbalance, my tendency to pathetically sit crying in churches, my willingness to throw caution to the wind and drink and sleep with random guys at bars...none of that is turning you off?"

"Well when you put it that way..."

I turned around to find her brows raised and her eyes confusedly squinted as though she truly couldn't figure out what I was still doing here with her and not freaking out.

"It takes a lot to scare me off," I truthfully answered. "And it helps that you and I have a lot in common. Remember? Similar vices?"

"True," she conceded. "But still pretty impressive that you haven't run for the hills screaming. There was this guy I went on a date with at this club once. Drinks, dancing, and...uh..."

She trailed off, leaving the rest to my imagination.

"'Uh'?" I questioned.

"And uh...a little eccetera that I'll just leave to your imagination but my point is that it wasn't going to go anywhere beyond that night. Neither of us was really into it so we had talked about it being a one time hookup and then that'd be it. We'd go our separate ways. Or so I thought."

"What do you mean?" I asked, toeing my shoes off.

"I mean this guy showed up at my place the next night, waiting for me and it freaked me the fudge out."

"Fudge?"

"I'm trying to cuss less. Another one of my resolutions. I was written up at one of my jobs today for being a potty mouth."

"Ah," I nodded, trying my best not to smile. It was hard though because she was too...adorable I guess would be the word. Huh. Didn't think that word even existed in my vocabulary. I fought the urge to smile while trying to figure out the point she was trying to make.

"But, anyways, I'm just glad I didn't freak you out so much that you didn't tell me to fudge off."

"Which is what I'm guessing you told that guy that showed up at your door?"

"Pretty much," she said proudly, offering me the first genuine smile since I let her in.

I moved around the counter and stood in front of her. She was so much smaller than me, easy to hoist up onto the counter so that I could look her in the eyes when I told her point blank, "I like you." No grand speeches like last time. Simple and straight to the point. "And it's nice knowing that you like me too."

"Who said I like you? Maybe I'm just here for the house?" Her words notwithstanding, she rested her hands on my arms, slowly sliding them up until they wrapped around my neck.

"I think my house would be less appealing if I wasn't here to do this."

I pressed my lips gently against hers. My unease from earlier was no longer boiling beneath my skin. It was a low simmer running through my veins as I pushed all thoughts of my mother and our short conversation from my head. She was the last person I wanted to be thinking about right now. Here, now, kissing Rose made it easier to relax and forget. If she was surprised by my forwardness she didn't say anything. I guess after having sex in my truck on the beach, there's really no that many lines too cross that would be considered too forward by this point. She melted into the kiss that same way I did, sighing when I pulled us apart.

"You're right. The house isn't the only perk here."

"No it isn't," I agreed, wondering if my expression was just as dazed as hers. "But you're welcome to come here when you're looking for somewhere to run," I told her seriously.

My words obviously caught her by surprise as she froze, her swollen lips parted and her eyes grew impossibly wider. She recovered quickly, though, clearing her throat and shaking her head as if maybe she'd misheard what I'd just said, what my words implied. I want this to go somewhere or at the very least see where this thing between us could go. Being someone she could turn to when she had nowhere or no one else was a nice start.

Rose didn't come across as someone who was ever at a loss for words but it seems I stumped her. I tilted her face up, pecking her on the lips.

"Are you hungry?" I asked, offering her a change of subject.

She blinked, still trying to recover. "Um...uh...yeah, of course. Always. There has yet to be a day when someone's asked me that and I've said 'no'."

"Good to know," I laughed. "Just let me shower and we can grab something to eat or maybe order in."

"I actually went to the store and picked some stuff up. I thought maybe I could make you dinner," she says almost shyly, gesturing to the bag I'd carried in for her.

"Really? How presumptuous," I teased. "What would have happened to this food if I had still been at work?"

"I would have pathetically eaten it all on my own. So what do you say?"

"Sounds like a plan. Let me just clean myself up a little and change." Noting the short black skirt she was wearing and the t-shirt proclaiming her a proud employee of Bucky's Busty Burgers, I offered her the chance to clean up a little as well. "You're welcome to wear something of mine if you want to clean up and put on something more comfortable."

"I'll just wash up a little. Thankfully I was on dishes duty today so I don't smell like charbroiled meat...do I?" she asked taking a whiff of her uniform and a her hair.

"You smell great," I dispelled her concern, leaning in to kiss the top of her head to prove my point. "I, however, am certain I smell like bleach and rubbing alcohol." She caught the front of my scrubs before I could pull completely away, reeling me in for slow peck, before letting me lean back.

"You smell good to me but go ahead, go change. I wouldn't mind us having a date one day where you wear those scrubs for me though."

I turned back to find her admiring the view of me still in my hospital scrubs.

I laughed as I headed for the shower. "I'll keep that in mind."

I scrubbed the stress of the last week and smell of the hospital away, letting the pressure of the shower run across my muscles. I thought it'd calm me down and relax me but being alone with my thoughts gave me too much time to think back to my mother and I was heated all over again. The only thing calming me down was knowing that I had Rose here to look forward to. The perfect distraction leaving me less on edge. I climbed out of the shower feeling clean and a little more relaxed at the thought. I could hear her prepping some of the food in the kitchen as she got dinner started while I pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I found her in the kitchen chugging back a tall glass of wine she'd poured for herself. She set the glass down quickly, her cheeks flushed red.

"Sorry. It's either this or a cigarette and the cigarette is the grosser habit."

"How long have you been trying to quit?"

"A couple of weeks now but, like I said, it's my go to when I stress."

"It's a goof first step that you're even trying to quit. I was in my second year of med school before I kicked the habit."

"How ironic is that, a smoking med student," she chuckled, refilling her glass. "Want some?"

"I'm usually a hard liquor kind of guy."

"I know," she smiled, probably remembering that first night we met where I was ready to down that bottle of Vodka all on my own. "But I figured wine would be better for a first official date."

"You want tonight to be our first date?"

"Did you have something better in mind?" she bemusedly asked.

"Yes, anywhere but here. Or Denny's," I added, making her laugh. "We can't seem to escape the confines of my house."

"I think cooking dinner for you is a nice first date," she argued. "Assuming I don't blow up your kitchen."

"Do you often blow up kitchens with your cooking?"

"It's rare that I cook so no, not lately but it would be the ultimate romantic gesture letting me burn your kitchen down."

"How do you figure?"

"It would mean that I like you so much and put so much effort into making you a nice dinner that I set a kitchen on fire for you! Just...not in a good way," she added, both of us laughing as we sorted the small amount of groceries she brought and whatever ingredients I happened to have in my cabinets and fridge.

"How about we cook this dinner together?" I offered.

"You have to be exhausted, Dimitri. Standing on your feet all week being on call at the hospital."

"The thought of sitting idly by, watching you burn my kitchen down when I could have actively prevented it is adrenaline inducing enough to keep me awake. And it's the twenty-first century. I'm all about equality in the kitchen."

"You don't know my secret lasagna recipe," she argued.

"You could always tell it to me," I countered.

"Then it wouldn't be a secret," she pointed out. "It's been handed down from my family for generations, only three people alive today that know it."

I guess I was right in deducing that she didn't have much in the way of family.

"Can you be trusted not to give away a Hathaway family recipe?"

I opened my mouth to respond but froze. Hathaway? I thought back to that morning in this same kitchen a week ago, Rose setting down her forkful of pie and extending her arm out to formally introduce herself.

"Rose Marie."

She had reacted when she said it, wincing, but I had written it off as nerves and the discomfort with the situation of two strangers getting to know one another. But maybe it was a tell, the same type of slight hesitation one gives when they're not being honest. But why lie about something as simple as one's name? Maybe I was putting too much thought into this. Maybe I was remembering wrong. After all, it has been one straight week without a good night's sleep.

I pushed my concern to the back of my head as I dryly answered her. "I'll try my best," I answered dryly as she smiled around her wine glass. She turned to reach for another wine glass, pouring me half a cup. I stared skeptically down into the ruby red liquid. I really didn't care too much for wine's acidic taste. And after the week I had and the call from my mother I had been hoping for something a little stronger but maybe the last thing I needed was to lose myself in a bottle. Maybe I could just lose myself in Rose.

"I promise it's good," she swore as she pushed it toward me but I opted for a sample taste straight from her lips. She gasped into my mouth as I lapped my tongue softly against hers. The sweet, bitter taste overwhelmed all remnants of her earlier cigarette, leaving the perfect flavor of the wine and Rose.

"You're right. It is good," I acknowledged, our lips parting with a soft smack. Her face as flushed almost the same dark red as the wine and she smiled.

The rest of dinner we exchanged stories about each of our work weeks.

I considered my week uneventful but she listened with rapt attention to some of the cases that came in, simple checkups, patching up wounds from idiotic stunts that people were attempting in the new year, often making jokes right along with me. It was interesting talking to someone that shared my dry and sometimes sarcastic sense of humor. She was mostly enthralled by some of my tales from abroad, what it was like to leave home and travel to a far off country.

"It's like something out of a fairy tale."

"Yeah, all the third world country poverty and illness remind me of Grimm's stories too."

"No, no, not that. That's horrible but I mean you just up and deciding to leave one day, leaving everyone you know and everything you own, to work in an unfamiliar land."

It was a spur of the moment decision but there was a lot of history and personal family issues that drove me to the decision. She didn't need to know that now though. We were having a good time, working side by side, chopping the fresh veggies she bought, seasoning the beef, and grating cheese.

"It wasn't as easy as it sounds and I'm dealing with the consequences of leaving town without a second thought but I don't regret it. You could do it too," I pointed out.

She snorted incredulously as she sipped her third glass of wine. "Leave responsibility at the door and hop on a plane to volunteer abroad? Liss would kill me. She already hates me most of the time. The last thing I need is for her to disown me as family or something."

I doubted she would have said any of that if it weren't for the alcohol in her veins spurring her on. Even she seemed a little surprised at herself at the words that just slipped from her lips, revealing a peek into her family life. She set her glass down and pushed it a little ways away from herself as she continued layering the pan of pasta.

"Maybe one day," I said, offering up the possibility.

Several moments passed as she seemed to consider my words. I didn't know enough about Rose to know what was holding her back and keeping her here. I knew she worked to support her cousin through school and take care of their house but maybe there was more to it than that. She said she had a habit of running away. I was intrigued as to why she never ran any farther than the city.

"Maybe," she mumbled, putting the last top layer of shredded cheese as I went to open up the oven, the seasoning and spices wafting off the uncooked dish as she slid it in.

"Smells good already."

"It's the only thing I know how to cook so I've had years of practice perfecting with minimal kitchen damage," she explained as she checked the oven temperature.

"Kitchen doesn't look too bad," I noted. It was messy from all the ingredients spread everywhere but nothing was charred or on fire.

"Yet. There's still hope that it survive in the oven," she said uncertainly. For all her tough bravado that she gave off, she thought very little of her skill that she'd messed it up somehow even though I'd been there to help her.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," I assured her.

We cleaned up the kitchen while the lasagna baked. I prodded Rose for more on what her usual work week was like since she listened to me talk most of the night. She was hesitant at first, trying to worm out of answering by saying her jobs were boring in comparison but I wasn't having any of it. I wondered if it was the confusion about her last name that was driving my interest in getting to know her. It did leave me a little rattled but I also genuinely wanted to hear more about herself.

"I share a little, then you share little."

Again that look of surprise flitted across her face. When was the last time someone asked her something as simple as what her day had been like? She blushed as she pushed her long hair back from her face, fumbling for what to say without the conversation being stilted or awkward. A rapt listener, she didn't hold back any commentary when I was talking and she certainly wasn't shy about talking in bed but now that the tables were turned on just getting to know her, she didn't know what to say.

"I want to get to know you, Rose. Anything you have to share, I want to hear."

She focused on the knives and chopping board she was picking up and putting in the sink. "You don't know what you're asking of me."

I touched her arm to turn her toward me. "The only way this is going to work is if we talk. I want to know you," I repeated.

"I think you know me pretty well," she winked seductively, her voice lowering as she stretch up on her toes to kiss me. A distraction. A good one. I lost myself easily in the kiss, my hands grabbing a firm hold of her waist, pulling her toward me to close the small distance between us. Her breath mixed with my own as our lips separated between the tender nibbling on my lips, smoothly running the tip of her tongue after each soft bite. My body reacted, undoubtedly poking her in the stomach. The moment she noticed she rubbed herself against me, lust darkening her eyes and I shuddered. It was hard. Literally. I wanted this. She want this but there was also something else. As much as I craved her, I wanted more.

I used my hold on her waist to separate us, both of breathless and panting.

"Baby steps," I told myself more than I told her.

"I think we're past that," she said, reaching for me again but I deftly grabbed at her hands, holding them in my own.

"You said you wanted this to be our first date," I reminded her. "It's been a while since I've been on a date but I know I don't usually put out on the first date."

"But I do," she retorted, sending a flurry of images through my head, wondering how many men gave in to her seduction, taking advantage of the fact that she wanted to distance herself. Including me.

"I like to get to know the person first."

She released a puff of air, blowing strands of her hair up as she sighed. "Figures, the first guy I actually like would rather talk than have sex. I'm not used to talking about myself, Dimitri," she told me, squirming where she stood as though there was a spotlight on her. I didn't want her to be uncomfortable here but if this is what it took to get to know her then so be it.

"I talked myself out of drinking the stress of my day way today."

"Yeah but you had some form of liquor, the wine," she pointed out.

"A small improvement for me. Maybe you could relieve some of her stress through talking instead of sex," I suggested. "As a consolation prize we can make-out."

"Instead of sex?" she asked for clarification.

I realized just then how insane I sounded, turning down a beautiful, sexy woman for any reason other than I was certifiable but I truly wanted this. It'd be healthier, better, for the both of us.

After a moment where I relived all of the wonderful things we did to each other the previous times we had sex, I answered "Yes", sealing it with a kiss to the backs of her smooth hands.

"It means that much to you, forgoing an easy opportunity to get me into bed?"

"I'm insane, I know but yes."

After a beat, she nodded, wariness in her eyes, the thought of talking and sharing not nearly as appealing as sex.

"We don't have to learn everything about each other tonight. Just small stuff," I persuaded.

"Okay, like what?"

"Like...how's work been?"

"Boring as usual," she shrugged and then sighed when she realized I wanted more out of her than that. With a roll of her eyes she turned to get back to cleaning up the kitchen while I set out plates and utensils.

"I picked up an office assistant assignment since my mornings were free. It worked out perfectly actually because it's only part time, I'm in by six am and off by one, giving me enough time to get all the across town to the diner in the afternoons without running into too much traffic."

"You must be exhausted by the time you get home, sleep should come easy."

"It probably would if I didn't cater a couple of nights a week. I usually don't get home 'til the wee hours of the morning, just enough time to shower, change and start my routine all over again. See? Not that exciting."

"No, it's not exciting but it tells me a lot about you."

"Yeah? Like what?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Like what kind of person you are. I get the feeling that you don't get along with your cousin very well but, despite that, you work from morning to night to help her out with school; You don't have much time left to socialize which is why it seems so hard for you to just talk to me about yourself a little, you're just out of practice. You're a caring person that's just trying to survive the day to day," I recounted.

She was impressed, or nonplussed. It was hard to tell with her back to me but I could see the pan in her hand slipping, landing with a heavy thud in the water as she suddenly stopped scrubbing. Several moments passed before she cleared her throat well enough to speak.

"You got all that from my work schedule?"

"A little bit of deducing, yes."

"I think you missed your calling as a cop rather than a doctor."

We finished setting up for dinner. The side dishes of veggies and our store bought salad were ready but the lasagna still had a little ways to go. We took our wine glasses to the living room, sitting near the window where I know she loved to look out though there wasn't much to see with very little light shedding on the beach outside. Having kicked off her Keds a while ago, she tucked her feet beneath her on the couch so that we could face each other as we talked.

"So no catering tonight, obviously, since you're here with me?"

"Yup. This is my one night free for the next few days so I figured I'd make the most of it," she said softly. She looked so beautiful to me in that moment. She was undoubtedly always beautiful. The briefest of glances from someone with glaucoma could tell you that. But right then, under the soft glow of the lamps in my living room, the sparse illumination of the moonlight streaming through the window as she leaned on her propped up hand against the couch, her hair cascading down her shoulders in dark chocolate waves, the inviting amber of her eyes rested solely on me...

She was breathtaking.

I opened my mouth to tell her so but realized it could be better said with a kiss. I was forgoing sex tonight, after all. A kiss couldn't hurt. Her supple lips worked in tandem with my own, inviting me in for more than the innocent kiss I had planned. She almost had me, running her hand up my leg to more nefarious places for a man trying to be on his best behavior for a woman he was trying to get to know beyond sex. What Rose lacked in self confidence, she made up for in sensuality and I was damned fool for turning her down. I held her hand i my own, instead, stopping her ministrations as I curled our fingers together.

If she was put out by the fact that I was trying to keep her at bay, she didn't show it as she leaned back, offering me a gentle smile before staring down at our clasped hands resting on her knee. Our hands locked together seemed to placate her enough while I tried to get us back to the safe territory of conversation. It was my fault we were distracted anyway.

"So..." I cleared my throat, not succeeding until the third time as I coughed. "Umm...with all those jobs, when do you sleep?"

"I don't but that's kind of the point," she admitted. "Keeping so busy so that I won't be home alone. I've always had trouble sleeping but our place freaks me out so much it's impossible to sleep."

"Too big? You live in an actual house right? Not an apartment?"

"Yeah, it was Liss's family home. I've lived there on and off since I was a kid but I've never been able to really sleep, there."

"You slept here just fine, so it's just that house?"

"That's because you wore me out," she quipped, making me smile. "But yeah, it's just that house."

I almost asked why but the pleading look in her eyes told me not to. She wasn't ready to share that much quite yet and that was okay. I had yet to do any heavy duty sharing either.

I have her a reprieve and kept the conversation on easy topics, the simple stuff, like what her favorite color was.

"Seriously?"

"Humor me."

With a titter, she answered, "Every color but orange."

"Really?"

"It's the only color I don't look good in."

"Outside of Winnie the Pooh, no one looks good in orange," I agreed.

"What about you? Favorite color?"

Staring into her eyes, I couldn't think of anything to say except, "Brown."

She was shocked by my answer, declaring that brown wasn't the prettiest of colors but, looking at her, I had to disagree.

We went back and forth like this, tossing the most random questions at each other, sharing laughs and stories over some of our answers.

How did Rose come to work at a place call Bucky's Busty Burgers? "Well it wasn't for my personality," she said matter of fact, glancing down at her ample chest. I'd seen them myself. They were certainly a sight to behold. I had trouble even lifting my eyes up higher than her chest after an answer like that. She laughed and nudged my chin up with her hand. I rubbed my eyes and groaned, proclaiming myself a teenage boy again, unable to think beyond anything than the beautiful woman in front of me.

What's the wildest thing I did in college? I recounted a long tale involving me and Ivan in kilts our first week of freshman year, making Rose laugh harder than I had yet to see from her. Through her bronzed complexion, her face colored tomato red, tears streaming down the sides of her eyes.

We laughed until we were double over, both of us holding the other up, until the warm cheesy smell permeating the air told us the lasagna was done. Dinner was much of the same, talked animatedly about the most ridiculous things. Much to Rose's relief the food turned out better than well.

"Just remember this is the only thing I can successfully cook so don't expect any other meals I prepare for us to taste like this," she told me as we finished up.

I promised to keep that in mind but her words that there'd be other meals she'd prepare for us in the future stuck in my head. The thought made me hopeful that this was going as well as I thought it was.

"What?" Rose asked as she dried our plates and slid them into the cabinet, turning to find me just standing there staring at her.

"We did good tonight."

I didn't have to elaborate for her to know what I meant. She dried her hands off and tossed the towel aside as she approached. She stopped right in front of me without actually touching. I reached for her but she leaned back, holding a hand up to keep my at bay as a teasing smile rested on her lips.

"Good enough to forgo your no sex stipulation for tonight?"

I grabbed for her again, holding her tightly against my body so that there was very little movement for escape. I crashed my lips down to hers. She hummed against my mouth before letting me in. I poured all that I had into the kiss; the sexual tension building tonight, the stress of the last week, the days I went without seeing her while I thought about her a couple of times a day...

"I'll take that as a yes," said whispered before returning her mouth to mine.

A/N: I know it's been a while and for that I apologize. It's been rough the last couple of months but I'm trying to get back on track, it's just going to take some time so bear with me. Thanks for being patient and still sending me the occasional love by way of favorite/follows/reviews, hoping for some sort of update to this story.

I know this version of the story is slow going but I'm hoping to pick up the pace next chapter. Hope you enjoyed and I'll do my best to post as soon as real life will allow! :)