Instant Gratification (10 page)

“By loosening me up.”

“By teaching you how to smell the roses. I’m a giver that way. Come on, Emma. Unless…you’re too chicken?”

O
h, wasn’t he funny, Emma thought. And somehow…charming. And sharp. And he had a bad boy truck, and hell. Deep down, somewhere she didn’t like to visit too often, she had a fantasy about a guy. Not another uptight doctor guy. Not a white-collared professional of any kind.

But a guy in a bad boy truck.

She wasn’t proud of it, but there it was. “I’m not chicken.” She swiped her damp forehead and looked at her watch. “You have thirty minutes.”

“You can’t put a time limit on relaxing.”

“Try.”

He smiled, promising no such thing, and drove her to Moody’s.

Emma stared at the bar and grill. “You going to get me drunk?”

He shot her a look as he parked. “First of all, I never get a woman drunk on the first date.”

“Why, because she doesn’t remember you the next day?”

“No, because I don’t like to clean up puke. And second, I was going to feed you food, not alcohol. Moody’s has great burgers.”

They got out of the truck and when he took her hand, she looked at him. “This isn’t a first date.”

“What is it?”

Since she wasn’t quite sure, she didn’t answer. They walked into the place, and immediately a handful of people waved at Stone. “You’re popular,” she said.

“Yes, and if you smile, you too can be one of the cool kids.”

Okay, so she
was
holding herself tense, and she definitely wasn’t smiling.

The place wasn’t bad. It was done up Old Western style, with the bar itself a series of refurbished barn doors laid on their sides. The front room was filled with tables for dining, the back room held the pool tables, dart boards, and an area for dancing to the music blaring from the largest juke box she’d ever seen. There were huge antlers hanging on the wall, along with lassoes and brass light fixtures, casting an old-fashioned sort of glow over everyone.

They ordered burgers and fries, and by the time they were done, the place had filled. Stone brought her into the back, to a pool table where Annie, Nick and TJ were playing a rather intense game. Annie came around the table and shoved Stone very affectionately in the shoulder. He stumbled back a step, grinned, and kissed her on the cheek. She softened and hugged him tight.

TJ gave Stone a friendly shove as well, and nodded to Emma. “Hey, Doc. I’m kicking Nick’s ass here. I can kick yours when I’m done if you’d like.”

Stone turned to Emma. “He likes to think he’s the best.”

Emma smiled. “And is he?”

“Hell, no. That would be me.”

“You wish, man.” TJ turned to the bar. Serena was there with another woman, sipping something that looked cool and delicious, the two of them watching the pool game with in
scrutable expressions. “Hey, Serena, Harley,” TJ said. “You know Dr. Emma Sinclair?”

“Aw, look at that.” Serena nudged the woman with her. “You said he didn’t have any manners.”

“No.” Harley pulled off her knit cap, revealing short, spiky blond hair that framed a beautiful face that didn’t quite go with the coveralls she wore. “I said he didn’t have any
feelings
.”

Annie laughed. “Good one,” she said, and rubbed her husband’s back when he looked at her with a raised brow. “Harley and the guys went to school together,” she explained to Emma.

Emma was guessing that they’d more than gone to school together, at least in TJ’s and Harley’s case, and not a good one, as evidenced by the dirty look Harley gave TJ, and the way he pretended to ignore it. He leaned in with his pool cue and took a shot, sending the ball into a middle pocket.

Unimpressed, Harley made a sound that might have been a tire going flat.

TJ straightened and looked at her. “You have something to say?”

Harley’s eyes were cool as ice as the air around them tightened with tension. “Maybe that’s my question to you.”

“Nope.” He lifted a shoulder. “I have a clear conscience.”

“A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.”

“Okay, kids, off to your own corners.” Stone smoothly stepped between them. “I’m thirsty. I’m having a beer, and then I’m going to show the good doctor how to play pool. Who else wants a drink?” He looked around, nodding with a question in his eyes at Emma.

“Whatever you’re having,” she said, and earned herself a warm, slow as molasses smile.

Just like that, the mood around them lightened again. Nick slung an arm around Annie. Annie patted the stool next to her for Emma.

Stone had done that, Emma realized. Gotten right in the middle of the people he cared about and easily, lightly, effortlessly, changed the entire atmosphere. She had little experience with this. At the hospital, which should have been a place ripe for conflict and tension, it never really happened. Mostly because they were all too busy, but if there was a problem, it was dealt with passive aggressive silence. Same with her family. When her mother and stepfather had fought, they’d done so civilly—behind closed doors.

Here, no one felt the need to hide their feelings. They talked, they laughed, they fought. They loved. Loudly, with no shame in any of it.

Annie had told her they had Stone to thank for that, that he was the central force, and he was good at it. He was good at a lot of things.

Unlike Emma, who was good at one thing, and that was work. She’d always been proud of that, but here in Wishful, she was beginning to realize that there was so much more to life than work.

Serena nudged a drink in Harley’s direction, who took a deep breath and a deep sip, and TJ leaned over the table and took anther shot, putting the two ball in the top left pocket and the four in the middle right.

Nicely done.

He then put away the remaining four balls and pumped a fist in the air while both Annie and Nick rolled their eyes. “Four out of five,” he declared, pointing at Nick. “You owe.”

Serena turned to Harley. “Did you know that fifty percent of all statistics are made up on the spot?”

Harley let out a half laugh, tore her gaze off TJ and turned to the bartender. “I don’t suppose you have a Xanax?”

“Finals?” the bartender asked in sympathy.

“Tomorrow.”

The bartender poured her a double Scotch. “Consider me a
pharmacist with a limited inventory. But this should work.” He pushed the shot in her direction.

Stone handed Emma a beer and sank to a seat next to her, smiling at her as she watched Annie take her turn at kicking Nick’s butt at pool. “Want to play?”

Her college apartment had been over a bar, and she and Spencer had spent every single morning playing pool while quizzing each other in chemistry and biology. Like everything she put her mind to, she wasn’t just good, she was great.

“Come on,” he said at her hesitation. “I’ll give you some pointers.”

“If you want pointers,” TJ told Emma, “play me, seeing as I kicked his ass last week. We bet all the paperwork at the lodge for a week, and he’s still at it.”

“I do all the paperwork anyway, you ass.” Stone smiled, quite full of himself. “Besides, I let you win.”

“Then maybe you’d like to make another bet.”

“Sure.”

“Okay, think about this, Stone,” Annie said. “Remember, you’re already zero for ten this week alone.”

Stone shook his head as everyone laughed. “It’s a good thing I’m not trying to impress the girl,” he muttered.

The “girl” was looking at him, looking at the guy who ran the business for his brothers, worked with foster kids, kept his family together. Yeah, she was looking, and thinking there went another layer off the mountain bum image. Even though he looked the part; tall and built with that sun-kissed hair and California surfer good looks, appearances were apparently deceiving because he wasn’t a slacker at all. Inside him beat the fierce, loyal heart that would go to the ends of the earth for those he loved.

“Aw.” Annie patted Stone on the back. “If that’s what you were trying to do, honey, you probably shouldn’t have brought her here.”

“True enough.” He set down his drink, stood up and took Emma’s hand. “A game?”

“Do it, Emma,” Annie said. “Show ‘em who’s boss.”

Everyone hooted and hollered at that, cheering for her. No one was looking at her like she was an alien, or politely but distantly calling her Dr. Sinclair. They were cheering, for her. She turned to look at Stone. “What would we play for?”

He arched a surprised brow. “You want to bet?”

Oh, yeah. She wanted to bet. “Unless you’re afraid.”

“Name it,” he said, eyes lit with promised retribution as everyone let out a collective “oooh…”

“Well,” Emma said. “If you’re so good at paperwork, you could do all mine at the Urgent Care. I’d love to have a secretary.” The crowd went nuts at this. “If I win,” she added demurely. And she was going to win.

Still laughing, Annie started to say something to her but Stone put a hand in front of his aunt’s face. Eyes still on Emma, he let out another slow smile. “And if I win?”

Everyone leaned forward eagerly to hear what he planned on claiming as his spoils.

“Maybe she could do
your
paperwork,” Annie suggested.

Nick snorted and hugged his wife. “I’m pretty sure he could come up with something better than that, babe.” He winked at Stone. “Maybe you ought to ask for free medical care for all your various injuries.”

“Yes,” Serena said slyly. “You can play doctor.”

TJ chuckled and slung an arm over Stone’s shoulders. “I’m not sure the boy knows how to play doctor.”

Stone shoved him off and smiled at the good-natured ribbing. “I can pick my own winnings, thank you very much,” and when everyone looked at him, waiting, he shook his head. “In private.”

“Yes,” Serena said. “Because nothing says romantic like kicking a woman’s ass in pool and then demanding payment.”

Harley took Serena’s drink away. “Honey, your bitch is showing again.”

“Whoops. Hate it when that happens. Especially since you’re the one who has the right to be a bitch right now.” She gave TJ a pointed look.

TJ’s left eye twitched but he said nothing.

Harley said a loaded nothing as well, tossing back another shot, gesturing to the bartender for yet another.

Stone picked out a cue stick and turned to Emma.

Gorgeous.

And just a little cocky.

Bring it
, she thought. “Ready?” she asked.

“Oh, yes.”

Finally, something she could be better at than him.

S
tone racked the balls and gestured for Emma to take the break shot.

She gave him a slight bow and bent over the pool table, and he thought, oh yeah. Right there.
There’s
the best reason on God’s good earth to invite a woman to play pool. Who cared who won or lost when her pants tightened nice and snug across the sweetest ass on this side of the Sierras? Who cared who won or lost when—

She hit, hard and accurately, and three solid balls went in, the one, two and three balls consecutively.

A beautiful combo shot.

All eyes swiveled to him, accompanied by the low chorus of “oooooh.”

Like he didn’t know he was in trouble. He met her amused gaze.

“I’m solids,” she said sweetly.

“You’ve played. A lot.”

“I’ve played,” she agreed. “A lot.”

Oh, Christ, look at her, all cool and confident. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. As was that fitted shirt she wore,
only two buttons undone. Cerebral and hot at the same time, which was blowing the synapses in his mind at the speed of light.

Not good.

She bent over the table again and blew the rest of his brain completely out.

“But it’s been awhile,” she muttered demurely, rocketing the seven ball in the corner pocket before casually aiming at the five. And making it. She got the four ball in before she missed her last, the six, and he knew he should be at least worried, but goddamn if he wasn’t smiling from ear to ear.

“You look like an idiot,” Harley told him ever-so-helpfully. “Stop grinning and get in the game.”

Right. He tore his gaze off Emma with much difficulty and did as Harley demanded. Luckily he really was good.

And lucky.

He hit every single striped ball in, until all he had left was the eight ball.

Emma was standing there, not so smug anymore. In fact, she now wore an “oh shit” expression. Yeah. She wasn’t always the best at everything, which must be new for her. Plus he could practically read her thoughts. She was wondering what he was going to want. Good, let her worry, because he decided he liked her a little off her game, a little uncertain.

He finessed the shot and the eight ball sank right in, winning him the game and hopefully the girl.

Annie sighed. “I thought I taught you to always let the woman win.”

“He can’t,” Nick told her. “He wants his spoils.”

Stone looked at TJ, waiting for his smartass comment. He was certain his brother had one, his brother always had one. But TJ wasn’t paying him the slightest bit of attention. He
was leaning against the bar staring at Harley with a naked, love struck look on his face.

Great. So two out of three Wilder brothers were looking to get their hearts bashed in.

He tugged the cue stick out of Emma’s hand.

She raised a brow.

He raised one back.

“Now?” she asked. “You’re collecting your winnings now?”

Hell, yes, now. Though he had the oddest urge to toss her over his shoulder and take her back to his cave and pound his chest with his fists before sinking into her glorious body, he knew better.

She hadn’t yet decided to sleep with him.

Which made them even. Oh, he
wanted
to sleep with her. Actually, he wanted to pull off her clothes with his teeth, lick every single inch of her soft skin, bury himself deep in her body and take them both straight to heaven.

Multiple times.

It’d been a long time since a woman had gotten stuck in his head and stayed there. Since he’d felt the long, slow, curl of heat deep in his gut that he felt now. A very long time.

But more than anything, he wanted to talk to her. Peel back a few layers, find out what made her tick. What made her so tough and edgy.

So competitive, so remote. So unwilling to connect. He stepped closer and she reacted with a hard swallow and the sudden fluttering of her pulse at the base of her throat.

She hadn’t expected to lose.

He pulled her off the barstool and met her gaze, and in that beat at least, she was just a soft, gorgeous woman, suddenly looking at him as if maybe she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

Oh yeah, that worked for him.

She followed him outside into the tangible heat. It was only six thirty. They still had hours of daylight left.

Perfect for what he had in mind. “Trust me?” he asked her.

“Hell, no.”

He grinned and pulled out his keys. “You reneging then?”

She put a hand on her hip and gave him a long, even look that stirred him up. “On what exactly?”

“It’s a surprise.”

She stared at him, then laughed. “You are unbelievable.”

“So you
are
reneging.”

“My word is my word.” She eyed his truck, sighed heavily, and hopped into the passenger seat.

Unable to believe his luck, he stared at her for a beat, then jogged around to his door before she could change her mind.

Emma swiped her forehead on her arm. Lord, it was hot. Very hot. She looked around the cab of the bad boy truck. It wasn’t for show, the thing had dents and wear and tear, and was clearly well-loved and well-used.

And it had a/c.

Her secret fantasy upped a notch.

Stone started the engine, made her his friend forever when he cranked the air, and within five minutes they were out of Wishful. They made a quick stop at the lodge, where he vanished for a minute, then came back and loaded two bikes in the back.

“I’m not a mountain biker,” she said.

“You will be.”

He took them up a narrow dirt road that she’d never been on before. The going was rough, and she was grateful for her seatbelt as she was knocked side to side. The landscape was thick here, overgrown and wooded, and with the late afternoon sun making shadows, she couldn’t tell much about where they were going except that they were climbing.

And climbing.

“How about a hint about where we’re going?” she asked.

“It’ll take your breath,” was all he said.

Well at sixty-three hundred feet, that she could believe. She looked over at him, driving the nearly nonexistent road with ease in his loose and battered jeans and a t-shirt. His Nike’s looked as old and comfortable as his jeans. Once again, his hair was finger-disheveled and he hadn’t shaved.

Another secret fantasy, a man who wasn’t a slave to his razor. She wanted to know what that stubble felt like rubbing against her skin.

He glanced over at her. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, it was something. You looked…I don’t know. Hot.”

“That’s because it’s a million degrees.” She’d rather work at the Urgent Care for the rest of the year than admit she’d been picturing him running his face all over her body. “You’re not really a ski and bike bum, are you?”

He slid her another glance. “Is that what you were thinking about?”

“Sort of.” Indirectly. “You
run
Wilder Adventures. You lead treks by day, and by night you work on the business end; the reservations, the books, the scheduling. Annie seems to think you’re the glue that keeps your family together.”

He seemed amused by his aunt’s assessment. “That’s because I’m her favorite.”

She slid him a look. “She said Cam was.”

He laughed, and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was at ease, confident.
Happy
.

God, that was attractive. “You’re a close family.”

He slid her another look. “We are.” He pulled into a clearing and turned off the truck. “But we’re not exclusive.”

“What does that mean?”

He got out of the truck and came around for her, opening
her door, waiting until she leaned forward to get out before stepping between the opened door and where she sat.

Her legs bumped his. She liked the feeling.

Slowly he crouched until they were at eye level. “It means I know you’re feeling alone. That you don’t think you fit in here. But you’re wrong about both. You’re not alone, and you can fit in.”

It was a nice thought. A comforting thought. It put others into her head, which meant her brain got a little fuzzy, what with the hot guy hunkered in front of her and his hot truck at her back. Anticipation hummed through her, and more shocking, a hunger.

Not the usual hunger to be busy, or the thrill of a new medical case.

But a hunger for a man.

For him.

Needing some space, she nudged him with a hand to his chest, and for one beat, he nudged back, his broad torso filling her vision, his eyes suddenly somber and filled with a hunger of his own, his heat and strength tantalizingly close. Just when her fingers were beginning to fist into his shirt, he backed off and held out his hand.

She followed him around the back of the truck. He pulled out the two mountain bikes and handed her a helmet, and when she just stared at it, he put it on for her, his fingers brushing her throat as he clicked her in.

“I don’t know about this,” she said. “It’s so damn hot.”

“It’ll cool down soon.”

“Is this the bet then? You want me to ride with you?”

“No.” He eyed her for a moment, scrubbing a hand over his jaw, which made an oddly erotic scraping noise. “You don’t like to do new things.”

She looked at the trailhead. It seemed narrow. Scary. “I do so.”

“No you don’t. And I know why.”

She turned back to him and put her hands on her hips. “Okay, Mr. Know It All, why don’t I like to do new things?”

“Because you only like to do the stuff you’re good at.”

She blinked, and he laughed at her softly. “Have you ever really had to try at something, Emma? Something important? Or does it all come naturally to you in your world?”

Okay, she resented that. “I worked my ass off to get through medical school.”

“Really?”

She stared at him, then deflated. “No. It came…. easy, and I loved it.” He couldn’t be right, could he? “But residency was hard and exhausting,” she came up with triumphantly. It’d been hard and exhausting and…and exhilarating. “Oh, shut up.”

He grinned. “Can you ride a bike?”

“Well now’s a fine time to ask, but yes.”

“Are you better at riding than driving?”

Okay,
that
lit a fire under her competitive nature. “I drive just fine.”

“Well as I’ve seen you, we’re going to have to respectfully agree to disagree there.”

“Funny.”

He waggled a brow. “So how about a little race?”

“Is
that
the bet?”

“Sure.” He smiled. “That’s the bet. Think you can take me?”

She let her gaze slide over his leanly muscled, incredibly fit body. Nice. But
she
was in shape, too. Sure she’d been eating cheese casseroles for weeks now, all in the name of saving her father’s health, but she was the most determined, stubborn person she knew. Plus surely he didn’t plan to kick her butt twice in a row. He was a man on a mission to get laid so she figured he’d let her have this one. “I do think I can take you.”

He sent her a long, slow grin. “Care to make a little wager?”

“Another bet?”

“Uh huh. Unless you’re afraid of losing. Again.”

Oh, that was it. “If I win,” she said, pointing at him. “You’re taking me to find Thai take-out. I don’t care if we have to fly to Thailand to get it.”

“Deal. And if I win…” His smile turned bad boy wicked. “You’ll go swimming with me.”

“I didn’t bring my bathing suit.”

His smile spread, and her belly fluttered. “I am
not
going skinny-dipping with you in some lake or river, Stone.”

“So you think you’ll lose then.”

Oh, he was good. She threw her leg over the bike. “You know what? Bring it on.”

“I’ll even give you a head start.”

She’d take that.

“Start slow,” he told her in an easy, comforting voice that shouldn’t have sparked her competitive nature even more, but it did because he didn’t think she could win.

And she was
so
going to win. She was getting Thai, come hell or high water. “You just want to watch my ass.”

“Well, it is a sweet ass.”

She laughed, then prepared to take off, stopping as something occurred to her. “Okay, maybe you should tell me the difference between street riding and trail riding.”

“Comply with all signs and barriers.”

“That’s just common sense.” Which, not to be egotistical, but she happened to have boatloads of common sense. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Okay, you need to maintain a distance between the bikes.”

“Again,” she said. “Common sense.” The trail was thick with ruts and mud from the previous day’s rain. Distance was a safety issue. “If that’s all there is to this, prepare for your ass kicking.”

He put a hand on her handlebars, stopping her from taking off. “We’re going to try to avoid the trails that are too wet or muddy.”

“Good. I don’t like wet and muddy.”

“I’d like to assure you that wet and muddy have their place, but not with newcomers.” He turned her bike toward another trail that she hadn’t seen, a slightly wider one, that hadn’t been as damaged by the rains. “Ride in the middle and try to avoid side-slipping, which can lead to erosion.”

She stared up at him, her eyes going directly to that face she couldn’t stop looking at. The men in her world might be more refined, more attached to their razors, but she really liked how he looked.

She liked the rugged arrangement of his features, the way his mouth curved so generously—

“Ready?”

“Ready.” She pushed off into the heat and found her sea legs fairly quickly.

“Change gears,” he called out from behind her. “You want comfortable momentum but traction so you don’t slip—”

“I’m fine—oh, shit,” she gasped as she slipped, and quickly changed gears. Not good. If she was going to win this thing, and she planned to, she’d need to concentrate. She wiped her damp brow and did just that.

The trail turned sharply, then went on a decline, and on instinct, she hit her brakes.

“Careful,” he warned. “Don’t lock ’em up.”

“So as not to gouge the trail?” she asked.

“Or die.”

Good to know. She eased off the brakes. The ride wasn’t anything like she’d imagined. For one thing, it was a whole lot harder than she’d expected it to be. They were on a rocky trail and it was bumpy. She had to concentrate on not pitching her
self over the handlebars. For another, as the trail widened and Stone came up alongside, she had to concentrate on not staring at him, at all those lean, hard muscles working, at the way his legs churned, how his hands held the grips as if he’d been born to it.