Page 50 of The Love Operation

Silence lingers between us. I should probably say more. Maybe I owe it to myself to say more.

But it feels wrong.

Talking about Benedict here, in this moment—when I’m searching for love, searching for something new—feels like letting him steal another piece of me.

I clear my throat and push forward. “Anyway. Tell me about your family, Mr. Thompson.”

Isaac studies me for a beat, like he wants to press further. But then he leans back, stretching his arms across the top of the couch. “I’m the second oldest of five. Two brothers, two sisters.”

“You said you’re all close?”

“Yeah. Pretty close. They’ve all started their own families, so maybe not as close as we used to be, but we make it a point to get together whenever we can.” His lips twitch slightly. “I love seeing my nieces and nephews. It’s a highlight of any visit.”

“You want kids of your own?”

“Definitely.”

“And you’re not afraid of a working woman?”

His smirk is immediate. “My family’s kind of traditional. Most of the women stay home, but I understand a woman who’s driven. I’m the same way.”

I let that settle, knowing how much family can influence a relationship, wondering if he really means it.

Then he asks, “Do you want kids?”

“Absolutely.” I straighten, chin lifting. “I want to show them—and the world—that we can do it all.” I don’t say that I’m already at “advanced maternal age” for bearing children.

He cocks his head. “And you think you can be chief and have a family?”

“No question.”

His brows rise slightly.

“Being a woman—a mother—shouldn’t hold me back from anything,” I say firmly. “My mother and grandmother are prime examples. Women can work hard and be good parents too. I want to be a good chief, a good surgeon, and a good mom.”

“You sound like you want to prove it.”

“I do.”

His smile seems real, but it’s lacking vigor. He exhales, then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Cord.” His voice softens. “I don’t doubt you can do it. But you’ve got to be realistic too. Being a surgeon is already a demanding profession. Adding chief on top of that . . .” He hesitates. “Might that be too ambitious?”

“You underestimate me,” I say simply, but his words flip my stomach. I wonder if this will be our relationship deal-breaker.

But then he shakes his head. “I think if anyone could do it, it would be you.”

“Thank you.” Relief washes over me. All I need is someone who believes in me. “Okay, what else is on your list over there?” I ask, pointing to his legal pad.

He glances down at his notes. “What do you do for fun?”

“I like a lot of things. Maybe . . . exploring? The city. The country. Other countries. I love seeing how other people live and trying out new ways of doing things.”

“Ooh, I like that answer.” He nods approvingly. “Traveler. Adventurer. Open minded. Very nice.”

“What about you?”

His smile turns sheepish. “Would you find me incredibly boring if I said staying home and playing board games?”

Without hesitation, I jump to my feet, head to the console beside my TV, and throw open the doors, revealing my neatly stacked stash of games.