“Roger that,” Pesh replied. The plane lurched forward and then started taxing down the runaway.

“Hmm, I’m guessing a Cessna 172?”

Pesh smiled. “Yes, it is.”

“It’s nice. I like it.”

“I hope you’ll be saying that again in a minute.”

Megan knew what he meant when the plane started gaining speed down the runaway. Just like when she was on a commercial flight, it was on the ground one minute, and then in the air the next. They soared into the blue sky while zipping through white, fluffy clouds. Once they had gained enough altitude, Pesh eased off on the rudder and glanced over at her. “You okay over there?”

She grinned. “Are you kidding me? This is amazing.”

“I’m glad to hear you like it. I didn’t know if you were going to take after your Uncle Aidan.”

“I hear you gave him drugs to make it.”

Pesh laughed. “Yeah, I did. He slept most of the way there.”

“Total wuss,” she remarked with a smile.

After adjusting one of the controls, Pesh said, “Well, I have to admit that my late wife wasn’t a fan, either. She tolerated flying with me because she knew how much I loved it, but most of the time, she’d take a pill to relax.”

“So she didn’t share your passion?”

“No, she didn’t. She always encouraged me to do what I loved. She never was one to make me choose between her or something else. She was that sacrificing.”

“That was really amazing of her to be that giving.”

When Pesh remained silent, Megan knew it was time for a conversation change. “Now that I know we’re going to Savannah, are you going to tell me where we’re going for dinner?”

He smiled. “It’ll probably be a late lunch when we get there.”

“So, where will our late lunch be?”

“Do you like the Historic District?”

“I love it.”

“Good. I’ve picked a restaurant there for us.”

“Do you come to Savannah often?”

“A couple of times a year, mainly for medical conferences on the Coast.”

“And you always fly?”

“I do,” he replied, with a smile.

The flight took less time than she thought, and with clear weather, it was totally smooth. As they started making their descent, Pesh glanced over at her. “Are you ready for the landing?”

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It can be a little intense for some people. You see a lot more of the ground rushing at you than when you’re in a 747.”

She cocked her head at him. “I went skydiving, remember?”

“Ah, that’s right.” With a wink, he added, “You’re my little adrenaline junkie.”

Megan laughed. “I was. Not anymore.”

“What changed all that?”

“Mason. When you’re responsible for the health, safety, and happiness of someone else, your entire perspective changes.”

“He’s a true gift.”

She jerked her gaze to him. “Yes, he is.”

Pesh gave her a small smile before radioing the tower. Once he had clearance to land, they started rapidly losing altitude. The runway got closer and closer until the plane jolted forward and then began skidding along the pavement. When it finally came to a shuddering stop, Megan exhaled the breath she’d been holding. “Still okay?” Pesh asked.

She grinned. “Never better.”

The sound of the tower came in her headset as Pesh listened to the instructions. The plane started rolling toward one of the hangers. Once he had parked and powered down the plane, he got out to help her. After a quick talk with a member of the grounds crew, Pesh took her hand and led her out of the hanger. A cab waited to take them into the city.

She laughed as she slid across the seat. “What?” Pesh asked.

“I’m surprised by the cab. I thought you might really go upscale by having a limo or chauffeur-driven car pick us up.”

“I like to stay humble,” he replied with a wink.

She shook her head at him before turning to gaze out the window at the scenery. When they began winding through the antebellum homes of the Historic District, Megan felt her stomach growl. She’d been too nervous to eat breakfast, and then she hadn’t dared eat at Chuck E. Cheese’s.

The cab stopped outside a chic looking restaurant. As Pesh paid the driver, Megan hopped out and took in the sights around her. She loved the old world feel of the city with all its history and charm. Pesh offered her his arm, and then they walked inside. The restaurant’s popularity was evident in how crowded it was even at four in the afternoon. They were ushered to a quiet, candlelit table.

“Wine?” Pesh asked.

“Yes please.”

“White okay?”

“Sure.”

After the waiter left with their drink order, Megan surveyed the menu and sighed. “Everything looks so good.”

Glancing over his menu at her, Pesh said, “With the cuisine being Southern, I imagined you would like it.”

“I love all types of food. Trust me, as hungry as I am now, I would have eaten anywhere.”

The waiter returned with their wine, and Megan knew she needed to make a decision. “I’ll have the shrimp and grits, please.”

“Very good, ma’am,” the waiter replied.

“I’ll have the same,” Pesh said, handing the waiter his menu. When Megan grinned at him, his brows rose. “What?”

“I’m just surprised to hear you eating something so Southern as shrimp and grits.”

He tsked at her. “When will you learn that you can never pigeonhole me as one thing or the other?”

She laughed. “Actually, I like that you’re proving me wrong and being unexpected.”

“Really?”

She nodded. “Sometimes I feel like people try to do the same thing to me. People have their own assumptions about girls or women who get knocked up. I hope I constantly prove them wrong.”

“I’m sure you do.” After taking a sip of his wine, he cocked his head at her. “Prove me wrong on this one. Does a Southern girl like you eat Indian food?”

“Oh yes, I love it.”

His dark eyes lit up. “What’s your favorite dish?”

“Hmm, I love Butter Chicken, but I’m also a fan of Pav Bahaji.”

“I’m impressed. Emma had never eaten any Indian food, and I don’t think I made a good impression on her.” Pesh’s chuckle died out, and he immediately grimaced at the mention of Emma’s name.

Knowing that they were dancing around the white elephant in the room, Megan reached across the table and patted his hand. “It’s okay that you’re talking about Emma.”

“Speaking of old girlfriends or women you’ve dated while you’re with another woman is never a good idea.”

“This is different. Emma is my family.” She swirled the wine around in her glass. “I’ve heard her side of the story, but I don’t think I’ve heard yours.”

“You heard a little when you were inebriated the night of Noah’s baptism.”

Now it was Megan’s turn to grimace. “I still would like to know.”

Pesh drew in a ragged breath. When the waiter appeared with their salads, it appeared that he might dodge the question entirely. But once they were alone together, he smiled. “Emma came along at a time when I was facing extreme pressure from family and friends to move on from my grief and date again. There was no escape to it—I faced it at the hospital, as well as when I was at home. People seemed to think that once a year went by on the calendar that meant I was through with my mourning. Then one day, there she was in the ER. She was scared out of her mind about your grandfather. Somehow I just connected with her through her grief and pain.” He dabbed his mouth with his napkin. “She reminded me so much of Jade that it was easy to try to imagine that what I was feeling for her was romantic. I hadn’t been out in so long that I wanted to woo her, just like I wanted to you.”

“And Aidan came between you?”

“In a way, both he and Jade did.”

“What do you mean?”

Pesh laughed. “Let’s just say, during a very heated moment together, she was with Aidan, and I was with Jade.”

Megan was surprised by his candor. “I see.” There was one item in the Pesh and Emma equation she had always wondered about. “You didn’t mind that she was pregnant?”

Shaking his head, Pesh replied, “It just made her even more beautiful to me. I’d been through so much death that I guess I was drawn to her because she had life growing within her.”

“That’s really beautiful,” Megan murmured.

He gave her a mirthless laugh. “One of my worst character faults is having a hero complex. I guess it’s one of the reasons I became a doctor. I saw Emma, and I wanted to save her. When she had to go on bed rest, I wanted to be her knight in shining armor.”

“Being a hero is not exactly a bad character trait.”

“It is when you can’t save someone, and you have to constantly live with the guilt.”

Megan’s heart ached at the pain on his face. Sensing she needed to lighten the mood, she teased, “I’m glad to hear you actually have a bad character trait. I mean, you seemed a little too perfect to me.”

A shadow of a smile played on his lips. “Did I mention I’m a terrible slob?”

“You? Never,” she replied.

“Oh yes. If I didn’t have a housekeeper, I’m pretty sure I might end up on World’s Nastiest Houses.”

Megan laughed. “I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s the truth. I also have no athletic ability whatsoever.”

After chewing thoughtfully on her bite of salad, Megan said, “But you’re built like a football player.”

“I’m built because I go to the gym to work off stress. But if you put me on the field, I’d be a serious disappointment.”

She shook her head. “That doesn’t turn me off at all. I’ve had my fill of jocks.”

“Oh?” he questioned. Although he was trying to be nonchalant about it, she knew he wanted to hear the full story.

“Dating jocks for me is poison, and when I did date one, I made sure to date the ones at the top of their game. My first athlete’s influence caused me to ruin my chances at medical school.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Yes, it is. But what’s worse is I didn’t learn anything from my mistakes because I fell for another one.” With a rueful smile, she added, “At least I got Mason out of that one.”

Pesh laced his fingers together. “Mason’s father is a professional athlete?”

“Yes, he plays football for the Falcons.”

“You know I’m friends with the team’s sports medicine doctor. I could probably arrange something for him. Maybe a little Icy Hot in his cup?”

At the mischievous twinkle in Pesh’s eyes, Megan burst out laughing. “I cannot believe, you of all people, suggested such a thing.”

With a shrug, Pesh replied, “It’s a harmless prank.”

“I realize that. It’s just I can’t imagine someone like you would even think of doing something like that.” When he started to open his mouth to argue, she held up her hand. “I know, I know. Don’t pigeon hole you.”

“Exactly.”

Their main course arrived, and Megan couldn’t help digging into the wonderful aromatic food. As they ate, the conversation came easily. That was one of the things she liked most about Pesh—he was so easy to talk to. Because he was older, refined, and a doctor, she could have felt intimidated by him. But he never made her feel that way. He always seemed fascinated by every single thing she had to say, which was quite a change from most of the guys she dated. They were usually half listening to her while glancing over her shoulder at the TV to get the latest score.

After they finished, the waiter took their plates. “Dessert?” Megan asked, as she downed the last of her wine.

Pesh nodded his head toward the small dance floor. “How about a dance instead?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I’m really not much of a dancer.” He arched his brows at her as if he knew she was lying. “Okay, fine, I used to dance all the time back in high school and college.”

“Then dance with me.”

“I’m not good at slow dancing. You’ll probably regret asking me the moment we get out there.”

Pesh stuffed a wad of bills into the bill envelope. “As Shakespeare would say, the lady do protesth too much. And I think I know the reason.”

“Oh, you do?”

He nodded. “Slow dancing is intimate, and you don’t want to want to let yourself be intimate with me.”

“You went down on me in a supply closet. I think that’s pretty intimate,” she challenged.

“That was not intimacy. Sexual acts are of the mind where our pleasure center is. Intimacy is of the heart.” He held her gaze. “We both know you’ll let me into your body but not your heart.”

Knowing he was right, she crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at him. She didn’t know why she just couldn’t get up and go dance like he had asked. She’d slow danced a thousand times at parties. What was the difference here? Somewhere deep down, she knew the answer to that question.