Afterward, she cleared the table. “Thank you, Dr. Beckman.”
“When we’re not at work, call me Beck.”
A smile lit up her whole body since only his friends called him that. “Sure…Beck.”
“Ready for more rides? Or do you need a few minutes to let your food settle?”
She raised a brow at him. “Why? Do you?”
“I might.”
“You look at blood and guts all day but you have a delicate stomach?”
“I do not have a delicate stomach. Just…a more sensitive equilibrium.”
“Maybe I should call you princess.”
“Be careful, little girl.”
“Or?” She raised a brow at him.
“You might find out.”
“I think you’re all bark and no bite.”
His grin told her she was terribly wrong. “You keep thinking that. You’ll find out differently. Now, come with me so I can prove how manly I am by shooting something.”
As they headed toward the shooting gallery, Heavenly couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this happy. But when Beck reached for her hand and tucked it in his own, her euphoria swelled into wide-eyed surprise.
He liked her. As a boy liked a girl. No, as a man liked a woman.
The day couldn’t possibly get more perfect.
She swore she was walking on clouds as they rode the Mark Twain around Tom Sawyer Island, caught Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, then got soaking wet on Splash Mountain. She probably wore him out with the three trips she needed on Haunted Mansion, but it was so clever and full of details. Maybe he didn’t mind too much, because when he slid beside her in their “doom buggy,” he held her close and smiled indulgently.
After that, they stumbled up to Pirates of the Caribbean.
When the ride ended, she was still singing “Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me…” He escorted her to Blue Bayou, which overlooked the ride’s gently lapping waters. They were shown to a table that ringed the perimeter of the swampy darkness, complete with fireflies. It was…romantic.
“What are you hungry for?” He glanced up from the menu, brow raised.
He meant food—maybe—but her heart still skipped a few beats. “I-I don’t need—”
“To eat? Yes, you do. Let me rephrase my question. Is there anything on the menu you’re allergic to or don’t like?”
“I’m not fond of lamb.”
“We’ll avoid that then.”
Beck ordered surf and turf for them both. Heavenly tried not to choke or object. He wouldn’t appreciate it, but it was so expensive… She could feed herself and her father both for weeks on the cost of this one meal.
After delicious gumbo, the waitress delivered filet mignon and lobster with potatoes au gratin, along with a bottle of earthy red wine. Every tasty bite was exquisitely perfect.
“We talk during lunch at the hospital, but there are a lot of things I don’t know about you, Heavenly.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I’m boring.”
His stare chastised her. “I doubt that. Tell me everything…”
What could she tell him without bringing the mood down? “You know I’m from Wisconsin. I grew up loving Rugrats and—”
“What the hell is a rug rat?”
“It’s a cartoon. Well, it was. They don’t make it anymore.”
“I’m sorry?” He looked as if he wasn’t sure whether to apologize or laugh.
“It’s fine. As an adult, I’m no longer entertained by animated shows about kids in diapers.”
He almost choked on his wine. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Oh, come on. You must have liked a cartoon or two as a kid. Fess up.”
Beck hesitated. “I was far more interested in being outdoors. If there was a ball involved, even better.”
“That sounds so incredibly…male.”
“I’m glad you’ve noticed,” he quipped. “Okay, favorite ice cream.”
“What’s yours?” she countered. “I’m going to make fun of you first.”
That had him laughing. “Raine might have corrupted me lately with her love of caramel caribou.”
“I can’t fault you for that, though I prefer mint chip. When I was a kid, there was this place that used to make it with chunks of Andes Creme de Menthe and…oh. It was”—she snickered—“orgasm in a cone.”
“Really? And you’d know that how?”
She closed her eyes, mortification rolling through her. “Figure of speech.”
“So I have to be better than an ice cream cone?”
Did he mean if he ever gave her an orgasm? “What?”
Beck cleared his throat. “Favorite season?”
“Um…when I lived in Wisconsin, it was summer, for sure. But LA is like summer all year round, so… What about you?”
“Fall.”
“You like crisp leaves and autumn breezes?”
He smirked. “And football. That’s way more important.”
“Of course. Definitely a man.”
“You need me to prove it?”
“You really have to stop teasing me…”
“Who says I’m teasing?” He gave her a disreputable grin.
She rolled her eyes at him. “Favorite band?”
“I’m an old-school grunge guy. Give me Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Stone Temple Pilots…that kind of thing. But I listen to all kinds of music. Who do you like?”
“Maroon 5. Adam Levine—”
“Sings like a girl?”
She swatted his arm across the table. “Is incredibly talented and sexy.”
Beck scoffed. “You think?”
“He has some really amazing ink.”
Beck pulled the sleeve of his shirt over his elbow to reveal something tribal around his bulging bicep. “Like this?”
“You…” Heavenly stared, trying to string her words together. Never in a thousand years had she imagined the good doctor would have tattoos. “I’m surprised.”
“A lot of things about me might surprise you.” That grin of his nearly combusted her. Sly, brimming with knowledge, slightly dirty.
“Like what?”
“I’ve shocked you enough for one day.” He leaned closer, over his forgotten dessert. “But let’s just say my arms aren’t the only place I’m inked.”
She opened her mouth, but the waiter came by with a refill of his coffee.
Beck glanced at his watch. “It’s a little before nine. If we don’t leave this joint, we won’t catch the fireworks.”
After he paid the bill, she followed him through the darkness as they finally explored the castle. She squealed with delight when he bought her a pair of princess mouse ears, embroidered with her name. They made it just in time to slide into a VIP
