A Date With Dr Moustakas. Amy Ruttan

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      “Put a shirt on!” Ares teased again, laughing.

      “Where are you off to?” Chris called down, ignoring the teasing.

      “The clinic. Actually, I was going to come see you. There’s a case I’d like your opinion on.”

      “I’m not here to practice medicine. I came back just to lend a hand and deal with my grandmother’s death.”

      “Come on,” Ares begged. “I need your expert opinion. Besides, it’s high time you got your hands dirty at the clinic you helped found.”

      Ares had a point—and he did miss working. He missed neurosurgery.

      Chris nodded. “Okay. I’ll come by when Lisa comes back.”

      Ares raised his eyebrows. “Who’s Lisa?”

      “Evan’s nanny.”

      “Ah, and here I thought the infamous Greek Valentino of Manhattan was up to his old tricks.”

      Chris snorted. “And since when do I have time for that?”

      “Well, you must’ve had some time,” Ares teased. “You’re the only one with a kid.”

      Not for long, since Cailey Nikolaides was four and a half months pregnant now. Cailey was a nurse at the clinic, and Theo’s wife.

      “Look, either come into the house or get to work. You’re going to wake the neighbors with your incessant shouting in the streets!” Chris called.

      Ares winked. “See you in a couple hours.”

      Chris watched him jog away through the narrow alleyways of the old part of the island, where other villas like his grandmother’s clung to the side of a cliff by the sea. The homes were brightly colored and connected by narrow cobblestone streets that eventually wound their way down to a large square dominated by a church, and then there was a small path to the docks and to the clinic.

      The bell at the church rang out the time, waking up this sleepy island that was only an hour’s ride by ferry to Athens, a city much more modern in comparison to the simple way of life that still dominated Mythelios.

      He yawned, stretched and looked down.

       Dammit.

      He wasn’t wearing anything at all. Good thing the balcony was solid, and not an open terrace like they had in the larger cities, because he’d fallen asleep naked.

      He had to get some clothes on fast, before Lisa came back.

      He didn’t want to give her the wrong idea.

      That had been his problem his whole adult life—he seemed to give all the women he met the wrong idea. Even Naomi had gotten the wrong idea about him in the end.

      “I thought I meant more to you,” she’d said, her voice shaking.

       “Look, we both knew this had to end sometime.”

       “I didn’t know that. Or I guess I just didn’t want to believe it.”

      “Well, then, that’s your problem.”

      His stomach clenched as he recalled some of the last words he’d said to her. It cut him to the quick how badly he’d hurt her, but he’d told her from the start he didn’t want anything serious.

      And it still killed him that she’d given up that job at Mayo for him. He’d held her back and that would haunt him forever, but there was no way he was ever going to settle down with one woman for the rest of his life.

      He’d watched his parents.

      Once marriage came into play, everything went south. His mother had left, and no matter what Chris had done, he’d never been able to please his father.

      He shuddered. He was never going to get married.

      Chris reluctantly walked away from the balcony and headed back inside. He pulled on a robe and checked on his son, who was sleeping peacefully in his crib. The only fan in the entire house was in the nursery, but even that just pushed around the hot air.

      You never wanted to be a father either, a little voice reminded him.

      And yet here was Evangelos.

      He smiled at his son, so like him, sleeping peacefully. He was sucking the chubby fist in his mouth in his sleep. His dark curls were plastered to his face from the heat.

      This island was his world now. He’d do right by Evangelos. His son would never want for anything and would never feel like a stranger to his father—a toy that would be played with only when it suited his parents. Chris was going to make sure his son had everything he could possibly need.

       Except he won’t have a mother.

      Chris shook that thought from his mind.

      Evan didn’t need a mother. He’d made do without a mother’s love, and he’d give his son enough love for both parents.

      He closed the door to the nursery and headed back to his room, where he had a quick shower and then pulled out the scrubs and lab coat that Theo had given him when he’d returned to Mythelios a few weeks ago.

      “What are these for?” Chris had asked as he’d stared down at the scrubs that Theo had handed him.

      “They’re scrubs.”

      “I know that,” Chris had said, “but what are they for?”

      “Look, I know that your yia-yia just died, but when you feel the need to come back and work, we could really use you at the clinic.”

      “Thanks. I’ll think about it. If you need me for an emergency, I’ll be there, Theo, but I can’t commit right now.”

      “I know,” Theo had said gently. “But these are yours for when you need them.”

      It might not be the glitzy Manhattan hospital where he’d been working, but at least he’d still be working. He would still be doing what he loved and he would be giving something other than money back to his home. His time and his skills.

      Ever since he’d headed to America, he’d had a financial hand in the clinic that Theo ran, using his trust fund from Mopaxeni Shipping to help fund it year after year the same way his friends did, but he’d never done more than that.

      It was time to do more now, and he’d still be able to devote enough time to Evangelos, and to fixing up his grandmother’s home, and to raising his son in a place that was safe and quiet. A place where he’d always been happy when he was young.

      Chris was mad at himself for staying away for so long, but he’d thought life would be better in America.

      He’d slipped on his clothes and was tying his shoes when the front door opened.

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