Dara had been quiet since they’d left the clinic, and ordinarily Chaerin wouldn’t mind silence. She spent so much time alone, or talking to animals who didn’t talk back, she’d pretty much lost the art of casual conversation, let alone anything more intimate. Dara’s quiet didn’t bother her so much as it concerned her. She couldn’t tell if Dara was in pain, or angry, or sad. She’d sat motionless, looking out the side window, since they got in the car.

“Are you all right?” Chaerin asked.

“I’m fine,” Dara said softly.

“Still hungry?”

“It’s two in the morning.” Dara turned from where she’d been. “I imagine you’d like to get some sleep tonight.”

“I’d say about a third of the month I’m up working all night,” Chaerin said. “This is as usual a time for me to have breakfast as it is to have dinner. I guess I don’t work by a normal clock.”

Dara shifted around on the seat, trying to get comfortable with the unfamiliar and incredibly aggravating knee immobilizer forcing her to keep her leg out straight. Putting her back against the door, she watched Chaerin drive. Chaerin didn’t look as if she ever had to wrestle with fate to keep her life just where she wanted it. Dara found that both admirable and annoying.

“Are you married?” Dara asked.

Chaerin whipped her head around and hit Dara with a hard stare, then just as quickly faced front again. “I’m trying to figure out what my discussion of mealtime has to do with that.”

“Sorry,” Dara said. “I have a tendency to think in chapter breaks. One of the first rules of novel writing is that every chapter should begin very close to the heart of the scene. I guess I’m not much on leading up to a topic.”

Chaerin laughed. “I’m still not getting the segue.”

“Oh. Sorry. I was thinking it must be kind of hard to be in a relationship when your schedule is so erratic. Unless of course, you have a very patient partner.”

“Plenty of doctors have stable long-term relationships.”

“Absolutely. And plenty don’t.” Dara noted Chaerin very often redirected the conversation to avoid answering a question. She recognized the ploy because she used it herself. Chaerin, despite her laid-back demeanor, was very guarded. “Touchy topic, Dr. Lee?”

“Nope.” Chaerin’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Not attached. Never have been.”

“And is that just because you enjoy working all the time, or you’re more of a casual dater?”

“Neither,” Chaerin said, sounding a little as if her answer surprised her. “You’re right—I do like my work, and it doesn’t leave a lot of time for socializing. But I’m not much for socializing anyhow.”

“That’s a shame,” Dara murmured.

“Sorry?”

“Nothing.” Dara wondered why she’d asked Chaerin the question. She rarely gave much thought to the private lives of women she found attractive. The only thing she really cared about was whether they were attached or not.

“You never answered my question about being hungry,” Chaerin said.

“Actually, I’m starved.” Dara was wide-awake with nothing to look forward to except an uncomfortable night in a strange hotel. She wouldn’t mind spending a little more time sparring with Chaerin. Verbally at least. “So if you really don’t mind—”

“I was the one who offered. You can trust me to tell you what I mean. I don’t have time for games.”

Dara heard the word anymore hang in the air, and wondered what game Chaerin had played, and with whom. And if she’d won or lost.

“I’m in then,” Dara said.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Popular place,” Dara said.

“Tiffany’s makes the best homemade sausage in the counties,” Chaerin informed her as they navigated the parking lot. “How’s the leg?”

“It’ll get me where I need to go, as long as I don’t need to be there this week,” Dara muttered.

Chaerin laughed. “I could always carry you again.”

Dara shot her a look. “Oh, and wouldn’t that make a perfect entrance. We’re probably going to be the only women in this place as it is.”

“That’s not true. All the waitresses are female.”

“Some things never change.” Dara rolled her eyes, wondering exa